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m0e-ru · 1 year

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why do you use him/her he/she pronouns for mim in that post?? isnt mim strictly they/them???

yeah okay no. 1: sorry that post was literally unreadable no punctuation no context no shit no nothing no life. like literally how my discord message dumps look like I am SO sorry I really am. you can always ask though I talk about shit like it's an already known thing I'm sorry my dear okyakusan

no. 2.1: umm short answer: idc about pronouns really I've been juggling them the whole time. I'm balling 🤾🤾🤾 also I'm a writer and I like to be dramatic but that comes with the fact I make shit too vague and it doesn't make sense in the end but I like the drama. like telanovelas <-doesn't know what they're saying at this point

no. 2.2 and all the other sections under cut because I'll be a lot more talkative this time around while I uh. still have the energy though

I'll just put a really loose chart here for a second

Izy (my idea ,technically OC, of the whole Iznmi and Marie once was) - she/her Marie - she/her Mim - whatever (the situation calls for)

while publically and online I don't talk about my ideas in detail or like, something closer to a finished product, I do like to use pronouns dramatically trying to make use of the English langauge (<- thinks in 2-3 languages at a time). In this case, it'd be towards mim's different aspects. as a diety (she/her), human facade (he/him), or like uh Ame-no-Sagiri (it/its) and other stuff they do while possessing people probably.

imagine there being an omniscient narrator but likes to be dramatic and talking to an audience in the voice of a certain character and from that "perspective" (<- desperately trying to explain their bullshit writing style). If I write from a Teddie perspective then the narrative would use "sensei" for Souji and describe details curiously, or an Adachi perspective where the narrative would use "idiot" and sounds very annoyed and lazy, or Souji using "senpai" and is particular with descriptions and with things that catch his eye, or, very vaguely, mim trying to distinguish their roles and identities as god and as this human they're acting as.

but the narrator is also its own guy and decides to make analogies that could foreshadow something or make things sound interesting or sound embarrassing and cheesy and (gritting teeth, punching the fucking air)

onto a more personal take though, I guess I do leave the impression I use they/them for mim pretty firmly but not really strictly! I am a silly guy I don't really care it's not really firm at all lol

that, or you caught me while I was building this station from the ground up (2020 blog making) and pronoun usage was something really. violent eye twitching. to me. Sure I had some issues with it on a really personal level but it's fine now if that's what you're worried about. I get the feeling I do and if you came back after a while to see me messing around and letting she/he come out of my mouth without choking I'm sorry if that disturbed you. Just remembering I'm in a Community and this guy was a doll thing to be played around with and I can decide my corners and circles with blorbo. and also coming to terms with. myself (self projection revealing things about oneself WHO KNEW!!!!!!!) Or I could be completely mega wrong and I'm the only one in the world who had this experience oh well sorry

reiterating from my last letter (really long post, whichever that one was) "Mim" can be something so personal but at the same time I don't want to alienate people but make them feel comfortable with it instead. like a house name, like I am LITERALLY that friend who has nicknames for everybody and you just know who I'm referring to and you aren't obligated to use the same terms.

mim is like my guy. my boy best friend. my mom. my terrible aunt. my knows too much grandparent. my funny uncle. my cousin from a different city. my brother. my local cryptid freak thing

LIKE use whatever you want for mim, for Nami, for Izanami, whatever. I don't want you to force yourself to use mim because you think referring to them as anything else would make me turn into a hater. I am tottsly fine really its fun seeing what other people use. like a personality indicator. but if you do use mim genuinely then, well that makes me feel a bit soft.

if you want a closer look at my brain I'll try and plot it down /scratches head/

Mim is a general go-to, Mimi if I want to feel sentimental. Hell, I'll switch it up to Iznmi like calling your teacher sir Benny in class but having to say sir De Guzman to call him out from the faculty office (unless this analogy is a bit more specific, sorry, I meant when I'm vomiting ideas in message vs trying to plot it out for a proper discussion or talk to other people who don't know I use mim)

Iznmi is all contracted because of the Horrors but I ended up sticking with it, without the added Horrors, because it got easier to type and my keyboard already learned the word in its autofill, so. I also use it when I try to distance myself from blorbo vision and try to discuss more specifically and with proper details.

Izy is the oc she's her own thing. I got tired of using "izanami-no-mikoto" all the time i mean heres my nickname documentation

Izanami is when I'm referring outside of P4 like the creation myth or other Izanamis in different media (hifumi.........).

like a special code for myself especially when I'm trying to discuss all four in one sentence (IT GETS CRAZYYY) like "Izanami (p4) and Izanami (who marie was as a whole) and Izanami (creation myth) and Izanami (there was this really cool blazblue recolor I saw one time)" I WOULD'VE GONE INSANE !

okay back to pronouns um. having mim as a blorbo put me through very special horrors but at the same time a journey that taught me a lot. figuring myself out and what kind of trans swag I want. pronouns, presentation, etc etc all that junk. and I realized I do not really care? I can do what I want and so can mim and I'm happy for them and by extension happy for me. while I don't really care, I guess I don't like messing with the topic too much publically and I know of some people who have it close to their heart and do take identity and transness very seriously. I don't want to seem apathetic but also non accepting at the same time, it's just, augh, there are reasons I don't want to be popular and the fear of having a knife to my throat to have aggressive questions like this. you can do what you want! it's cool 👍 I don't want to take sides most of the time (unconfrontational, doesnt want to fight) but I'll have opinions when I have opinions (you know. the obvious). this is, auggg it's tiring to be people pleasing in general (it is 2am) THAT'S ENOUGH OF A PEROSNAL SPIEL GOODNJGHT ANON HPE YOU HAD A NICE FKRST TWO WEEKS OF THE NEW YEAR.

#assk #anon #kommento #// yeah okay started losing track of what I wanted to say here but even I can put my brain on a table and figure everything out in one go #// mim is like intimate blorbo name like calling your cat any name but their actual one and iznmi is like introducing them to people #// but also distancing and specific like trying to talk about the concept of prsona 4 iznmi itself #// just like talking about the attendant as a concept and character discussing stuff in game too #// do you get what I mean 'no' oh alright anyway hi guys. the end of the holidays can really get to you huh #// I miss you all. but iam. so busy. hugs and kisses gas station will open again some day

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the--sad--hatter · 3 years

Text

Steam - Chapter 1 (Loki x Reader)

Warnings - Loki, Smut, Violence & Gore, Swearing, Death, Angst, Dark Humour, Crack Humour, Shenanigan’s, Mutual Pining

Pairing - Loki X Reader (Slow Burn Romance), Enemies to Frenemies to Idiots in Love

Reader Description - Female, No physical descriptions, Only referred to by nicknames & Petnames (No use of Y/N)

Description/Blurb -

“So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

It’s a tale as old as time, boy meets girl, boy tries to invade girls mind, girl sets boy on fire, boy turns into angry blue boy, they become sworn enemies.

When you suddenly become imbued with a power you have no idea how to control, Nick Fury picks you up and dumps you on The Avengers doorstep, deciding that they are best people to turn you from a wacky novice into a force to be reckoned with.

The power burning inside you has the potential to make you a hero, or destroy you completely, but your new fire based abilities are more than they appear, and in a stroke of spectacularly bad luck, The God of Mischief is the most qualified teacher to mentor you. With Loki guiding you, will you ever learn to control your power? Will you ever make it as an Avenger? Or will you crash and burn?

Only one thing is absolutely certain, when fire and ice collide, things are bound to get… steamy!

Chapter One - Ice Breaker

It was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined it would be, not that you’d ever imagined seeing it under these circumstances.

“Are you coming?” Fury barked at you, breaking you out of your slack-jawed awe.

You snapped your mouth closed and tore your eyes away from the legendary tower, looking at the doors where Fury was impatiently waiting for you.

“Coming!” You squeaked, scurrying over to him, “It’s just when you said you were taking me somewhere where I could safely learn to control my powers, I was sort of picturing an underground bunker in the desert, not the freaking Avengers Tower!”

“I utilise the assets I have, why would I send you away when I have a team of perfectly capable super-powered individuals?” He asked wryly, leading you across the lobby and straight past the security teams who did nothing to stop you both as you made your way into an elevator.

“I’m just saying, a heads up would have been nice.” You muttered petulantly, crossing your arms over your chest and tucking your hands out of sight.

You felt him look at you and studiously refused to meet his eye, staring instead at the numbers above the door as you were carried all the way to the top of the Tower.

“Heads up, you’re meeting The Avengers.” He shot back.

You could say what you liked about the former director of Shield, he was true to his word, because the elevator doors wooshed open to reveal a waiting crowd of Avengers, all of them staring at the man next to you with varying levels of annoyance and/or distrust. You diligently pattered after Fury as he stepped forward to greet them, looking around the room reverently.

The first person you laid eyes on was Tony Stark, Iron Man; the billionaire who had kicked off the modern age of hero’s, and next to him, Captain America, the first of the first, the OG Superhero. Stood behind the Captain was Sam Wilson, the Falcon and a personal favourite of yours, side by side with Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and poster-child for taking back control of your own fate. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye and the deadliest marksman in the world stood to the side with the Black Widow, deadliest person in the world full stop. In the back of the room two other figures were hanging back, emitting two very different aura’s. Doctor Bruce Banner eyed Fury with trepadition, and well-placed mistrust.

It was the last person in the room that the majority of your attention was reserved for, the tall, imposing god who skulked in the shadows. Contempt and boredom radiated from him, and you couldn’t safely say it was directed purely at Fury. He was also the only one who spared you more than a cursory glance, and you slowed to a stop as you found yourself trapped in his curious gaze. You stared back, trying to reconcile the villain who once tried to subjugate the planet with the one you were locking eyes with. It had been months since he had joined the Avengers, but it never stopped being strange to see him standing with them whenever you watched footage of them taking on whatever bad guy of the week they were battling. However, he had been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the battle of New York, apparently he had been mind-controlled. As to why he was helping the Avengers, nobody really knew.

Someone cleared their throat loudly and you forced yourself to look away from the stupendously tall god, glancing around the room to see that you now had all eyes watching you expectantly. Apparently you’d zoned out for the introductions.

“’Sup?” You offered, waving in Tony Starks general direction.

“So you’re Fury’s fiery friend, what has that got to do with us?” Stark sighed.

“What, you think he bothered to explain his reasoning to me before dragging my ass up here?” You scoffed.

“She’s here because she has abilities, abilities that she is more likely to learn to handle among similarly gifted people.” Fury explained in a tone that brokered no argument.

Naturally, The Avengers argued.

“We don’t have anybody with fire abilities.” You heard Natasha Romanoff point out, just before you took the opportunity to zone out again.

You were absolutely certain that nobody cared very much what your opinion on the matter was, thankfully. You weren’t sure you had an opinion on the matter. It wasn’t like you had a lot of experience with these kinds of issues, and as far as you were away there wasn’t some superhero academy that you could enrol yourself in. Besides, you were much more interested in re-instating your staring competition with the god of Mischief.

In the brief time you’d been distracted, he’d stepped away from the shadows and moved closer to you, staring at you with his arms crossed.

You resisted the urge to inhale deeply, who knew ex-murderous gods would smell so nice? You looked up, and then up again.

“How tall are you?” You asked incredulously.

His gaze flickered down at you impassively, while you stared back and tried to mentally calculate his height.

“I’m a Frost Giant.” He stated coldly.

“Oh in that case, you’re kinda short.” You scoffed.

You were flooded with immediate remorse but it was drowned out by amusement.

“I beg your pardon?” He demanded, uncrossing his arms and stepping into your personal space.

“Down boy.” Iron Man sniggered, stepping between you. “So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

“So you’re a baby.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“If I say yes does that mean I can just sit on the floor and cry until someone picks me up and holds me?” You asked, fully willing to give it a go.

It had been three days since your life had literally gone up in flames, three days of pinning your arms at your sides, afraid to close your eyes, afraid to let your guard down for even a split second, afraid to allow yourself to feel even an iota of emotion.

“So how did it happen?” The Captain asked firmly, getting the conversation back on track before you could find out if anyone would volunteer a hug.

“I, well, I kind of…” You trailed off and looked at Fury for help, but he just stared back at you, the bastard.

All eyes were on you as they waited for you to explain, nobody offering any kind of help. You exhaled forcefully and slumped your shoulders, tucking your chin so you didn’t have to look at them anymore.

“I ate a bomb.” You whispered.

There was a very long beat of silence before it was broken by several voices all at once.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stark demanded.

“What did it taste like?” The archer wondered, looking at you almost giddily.

“She didn’t eat a bomb.” Fury finally stepped in to clarify, “She absorbed the blast, after failing to defuse it.”

“Why was a civilian defusing a bomb in the first place?” Captain Rogers asked sharply, glancing at you in concern before turning back to Fury with a hard expression.

“I’m not a civilian, I’m actually an Agent.” You reasoned.

“She’s an Agent-In-Training.” Fury rebutted. “It was her first mission in the field.”

“Baby.” Stark reiterated, faking a cough and smirking at you when you scowled at him.

That was true, and you still didn’t think it was entirely your fault that the bomb had gone off. Yes you’d failed to diffuse it, but you were supposed to be watching the perimeter when you’d stumbled across the explosive device. It had less than thirty seconds on the clock, and you’d stupidly chosen to spend those seconds trying to stop it detonating instead of running away.

“And you put her on bomb duty? Were you trying to get her blown up?” The Black Widow demanded, and you almost laughed until you saw the serious expression on her face.

“There wasn’t supposed to be a bomb there, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Fury shrugged, like it was inconsequential.

To him it probably was.

“She is still in the room, and I was exactly where you told me to be, when you told me to be there. If your intel was bad, that’s on you Mr Superspy.” You snapped.

“Oh I see it now!” Stark briskly announced, “You’re trying to pawn her off on us because she’s too sassy for you.”

“Precisely.” Fury admitted, surprisingly.

“In the words of shortstack over there,” You hissed, gesturing at Loki “I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t have the temperance to be an Agent.” Fury told you blankly, not bothering to soften the blow by at least telling you this in private instead of in front of the world greatest heroes.

“I’d take that as a compliment.” Stark assured you.

“You’re telling me I’m fired? Literally. Because I got blown up, through no fault of my own?” You huffed, clenching your firsts in an effort to keep your emotions from manifesting in a fiery inferno of rage.

“Because you choose to try and handle a bomb you had no training to handle, instead of pursuing the target.” Fury amended, unphased by your distress.

You bit back your retort because you knew it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest. You couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t explain that you had made the choice not to pursue the target who’d planted the bomb, because you had to try and stop it exploding in a building filled with innocent people. Maybe Fury was right after all. Maybe you weren’t suited to being an Agent, because an Agent would have known that they couldn’t stop the bomb but they could stop the bomber. They would have let a hundred innocent people die and stopped the killer from killing a thousand more the next time. You weren’t an Agent because you’d chosen to die trying to save the hundred, and trusted in Fury and Hill to take down the Bomber.

Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, and in the end nobody had died.

“None of this explains how you ‘ate’ the bomb.” Clint Barton pointed out, and it was a good observation.

“That’s because we don’t have an explanation. She went through the standard medical tests in her training, and all her bloodwork and scans indicated she was fully human. She walked into that building as a human being, and walked back out after absorbing a bomb, as who the hell knows what.”

“So you’ve never done anything like this before?” Dr Banner asked you, speaking directly to you for the first time.

“Not even remotely. I mean my eyes water when I eat chilli.” You shrugged.

“Fascinating.” Banner muttered. “Inhuman?” He asked, turning to Stark.

“Unlikely, she would have probably noticed going through Terragenesis.” Stark responded. “Mutant?” He shot back.

“No, the mutant gene would have shown up in testing.” Dr Banner sighed, looking you over with a scientifically calculating eye. “Can you explain what happened in more detail?”

“Sure, bomb went boom, I went AHHHHHH, and then it was all bright and hot and then the boom went away.” You told them.

“So how do we know that it was you? What if something else contained the blast?” Someone asked, and you looked around before you finally realised it was Sam Wilson who had spoken.

“No, it was… it definitely me.” You sighed.

“How do you know?” Bucky Barnes interjected, backing up the Falcons line of questioning.

That was the million dollar question. How could you be sure that you had anything to do with the bomb, that you had been imbued with fire power?

“During the post-mission de-brief, there was an incident.” You alluded, side-eying Fury and taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

“Please tell me you tried to set him on fire?” Barton asked giddily, looking between you and your former boss.

When Fury levelled you with a glare and you developed a sudden vested in the ceiling, the Archer sniggered joyfully. You chanced a look around the room and saw that Barton wasn’t the only one exhibiting mirth at the idea of Fury being set ablaze by your.. well, your fury.

“He was yelling at me!” You defended, taking yet another step back when his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky you had no aim and only managed to set fire to the table.” He snapped.

“I think you were the lucky one.” Stark sniggered at Fury.

“Do you want her or not?” Fury sighed.

“Do I get a say in this?” You objected.

“No.” Fury, Stark, Romanoff, and Loki said in unison.

“I can run some tests to figure out what happened to you, if it’s reversible.” Banner offered comfortingly. “With your permission of course.”

“I’m gonna go stand over there with him.” You huffed, making a beeline for the doctor and awkwardly hiding behind him.

“Yeah, we’ll take her, should be an interesting riddle to solve.” Stark shrugged.

Captain Rogers and his buddies glanced at you before appearing to have a silent conversation.

“She can stay here while Stark and Banner figure out what happened, and we can go from there.” The Captain finally decided.

“We’ll take good care of her.” Loki added with a charming smile.

His eyes said something completely different, and you had a sick feeling that you were going to be made to pay for your short jokes.

“Glad I meet your approval; I was worried I was going to fall short.” You sarked, immediately resisting the urge to punch yourself in the face.

“Approval has nothing to do with it. Of all The Avengers, who do you think will be responsible for testing your abilities? You would do well to remember that I am more than mischief and lies, I am the god of chaos and fire.” He warned you cockily, visibly delighting in the way your grin faltered.

You shot a pleading look around the room, but nobody was refuting Loki’s claim. In fact, they were nodding thoughtfully, or in Stark’s case; shrugging apologetically at you. You turned back to Loki, ignoring the deep sense of foreboding in your stomach.

“Well Fe-Fi-Fo-Fuck.”

I have been trying to get back into writing for so long, and this is my last attempt. If this doesn’t work then I am out of ideas.

I know this is a boring start but I have been re-working and rewriting it for days and I can’t improve it. If you enjoyed any part of this, please do tell me! If you didn’t, then tell me that as well. Just give me any feedback at all, I’d appreciate it so so so so so much.

For those of you unaware (especially on AO3), I haven’t been writing for a while because my estranged mother passed away and it brought up issues that needed to be dealt with, but all that is over with now. Thank you to everyone who sent supportive messages and was patient with me ❤

Steam Taglist (Open, please send an ask to be added)

Loki Taglist (Open)

@myfandomlife-blog @cateyes315 @ibraggins27 @midgardian-mistress @cinnamonmouse8 @nonsensicalobsessions @sarahs-castle-of-clouds @marvelsangels @queenneso @momobaby227 @lovely-lynns-likes @thelastemzy @aroundnothingsoundsright @bluemoon1066 @iluvsumbucky @astridmargrethe @delicatelygloriousphoenix @lisas-stuff-and-junk

Everything Taglist (Closed)

@helloimanavenger @littleredstarfish @dilaila95 @buckysknifecollection @justellu @spnrvt @deathofmissjackson @sexyvixen7 @fairislesheets @rvgrsbrns @dahkness @jazztherebel @tell-me-a-poem @hiddles-rose @severepienerdturkey @life-wanderer @unlikelygalaxygiver @fangirlwithatrowel @abo4280ooof @destiel-artemis @dilaila95 @tarastudiesalot @toxic-pineapple @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @breezy1415 @chaoticfiretaconerd @marvelfansworld @stareyedplanet @themusingsofmany @zeannastardust @littleredstarfish @sammyissassy @alexakeyloveloki @kaz22992 @inquisitor-selvala @lianadelphius @happybookmuffin @tony-stank3 @amoonagedaydreamer @dropthepizza346 @my-drowning-in-time @lianadelphius @belles-garden @lieswithoutfairytales @rororo06 @lookalivefrosty @stuckupstucky @blackjay04 @thefallenbibliophilequote @solarsystembitch @thefifthmaraud3r @smokeandnailz @marvelsangels @thefridgeismybestie @sigyns-world @demirooijakkers @the-lake-is-calling @the-swedish-fist @thelastemzy @yet-another-fan-girl9 @sassy-potato-yall @legend-o-zelda

#Loki #Loki x Reader #The Avengers #Avengers x Reader #Deadpool

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years

Text

fluff alphabet - spencer reid

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

It would be safe to say you’re strangerly attracted to his genius. Many people find it annoying, how he spits facts completely unwarranted, but not you. His vast knowledge of quite literally anything is what sparked your interest in the young doctor in the first place.

Spencer on the other hand is captivated by your smile. The kindness behind it; how truly genuine it always is. He especially likes when he is the reason that smile spreads across your face, from cheek to cheek, illuminating your perfect features.

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

Definitely yes, and you know Spencer would make a great dad. He has a way with kids and it comes to him so naturally. Frankly you can’t wait for the day you get to tell him you’re expecting.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

One arm wrapped securely around you, pulling you in as close to him as possible. Your head resting on his shoulder landing just below his chin. He smells your hair taking in the scent of your shampoo before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

He likes to take you out to the movies where you share popcorn and a large soda. A lot of coffee dates where he enlightens you on books he read or reread and you fill him in on the latest pop culture gossip. Nothing too adventurous but never boring.

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))

“You’re my home.” Spencer whispered, his hands cupping your face. You blinked a couple of times registering what he just said but before you got a chance to respond he continued. “When I’m with you, I feel so comfortable and at peace. I can truly be myself around you, no judgement or scrutiny.” He took a soft breath. “When I’m with you I feel at home and that doesn't make much sense to me but you’ve told me before that not everything has to make sense. Especially when it comes to love.”

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)

One evening at a bar with your friends you repeated a fact to the group that Spencer had told you earlier in the week. It caught him off guard because no-one really listens to the rambles that come out of his mouth. Yet here you were, the biggest smile on your face as you reiterated: “chewing gum boosts concentration.”. You glanced at the young doctor from across the table. His eyes lit up as they locked with yours. That’s when he knew.

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)

Spencer is one of the gentlest souls you have ever met. He has an incredibly pure and kind heart. He always puts you first and would never dare to do anything that could hurt you. Your happiness is his priority and even though he’s not the most physical person he always does everything in his power to make you see how loved you are.

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)

For many reasons he isn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. But when he does hold your hand, he traces down your fingers gently with his own before intertwining them. He’d then lift your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on your knuckle.

I = Impression (first impression/s)

At first Spencer found you quite hard to read. He’s usually not good at social cues or interactions therefore it took him longer than the rest of the team to really get to know you.

You on the other hand were instantly mesmerised by the young doctor. The wealth of knowledge he possessed was captivating and in a way inspiring.

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)

Definitely; Spencer loves a good practical joke. He also has quite a good sense of humour. Not everyone always understands his jokes but they never fail to make you giggle.

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)

When Spencer kisses you he does so with all his might. Unlike his usual gentle demeanour, when he kisses you it’s always with immense passion. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you in as close as humanly possible.

L = Love (who says I love you first?)

You do - however completely by accident. “Did you know nutmeg can be fatally poisonous?” Spencer asked as the barista handed you a brown paper bag with a pumpkin dessert bar inside. “A little dash of nutmeg in a pumpkin pie or on your eggnog gives it extra flavour Spencer.” You noted flashing him a smile. “Too much nutmeg, however, can be toxic. Two to three teaspoons of raw nutmeg can induce hallucinations, convulsions, pain, nausea, and paranoia that can last for several days.” He stated. You couldn't help but laugh. “I love you Spencer but I’m not going to die because of a sweet indulgence.” It took you a second to register what you just said. Your free hand travelled to your mouth covering it with a soft gasp. “Shit Spencer, I didn-” “You love me?” He interrupted. All you could do was nod in response.

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)

After a particularly hard case Spencer drives you home, like he has done so many times before. He walks you to the door of your apartment and waits until you are safely inside. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and says goodnight - which is when you ask him to come inside, stay the night. Rather than going to sleep however you stay up baking what turned out to be the worst brownies either of you have ever tasted.

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

Spencer is not an overly material person. He prefers to shower you with words of affirmation and subtle compliments. Although when he does give you a gift it is always extremely thoughtful and definitely something that means a lot to the two of you.

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)

If he had to associate a colour with you it would be yellow. Yellow - the colour of optimism. The colour of sunshine and enthusiasm. It stimulates the left side of the brain, helping with clear thinking and quick decision making.

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He shortened your name. It was unintentional when it first happened but you liked the way it sounded so it stuck. You on the other hand, if you’re not using his first name, usually call him ‘honey’ or ‘sugar’ which he used to hate. If you’re feeling giddy you’ll call him by the original nickname you came up before you were dating: ‘suspence’.

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)

“Are you okay?” - you are his priority therefore he likes to make sure nothing is ever wrong. “Do you need anything?” “How are you feeling?”

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the weather outside is far from ideal and the two of you are not out working a case, Spencer likes to curl up on the couch with you. He’ll put on an old back and white movie as you provide the drinks.

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)

If he’s feeling sad you find yourself reaching for a random book on his shelf and reading the first few chapters aloud. His head rests in your lap, eyes closed, as he listens to the sweet sound of your voice.

If you’re feeling down, Spencer will draw you a bath. He’ll light a couple of candles and dot them around the bathroom. He’ll play relaxing music through the speaker of his phone as the two of you enjoy the warm water together.

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)

The short answer, everything. You never run out of topics to discuss and the conversation flow is always pleasantly smooth.

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

Quite simply you. No-one knows Spencer the way you do and even though the two of you haven't been together for very long you know exactly what to say or do to calm him down.

V = Vaunt (what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Spencer is modest which is one of the things you admire about him. The one thing he truly shows off is his knowledge of pretty much everything - even if he does it unintentionally.

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

“Almost fifty percent of all marriages in the United States end in divorce or separation.” Spencer said turning off the documentary you just finished watching. “Researchers estimate that forty-one percent of all first marriages end in divorce.” He continued. “Well, lets hope when we get married we’ll be in the lucky fifty-nine percent that lasts.” You teased, a small smile circling your lips.

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)

Let’s Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire. The song was queued by Penelope at one of Rossi’s famous get togethers - before you and Spencer were dating. She swayed and twirled, soon joined by Morgan, as the rest of the group watched and laughed. You glanced at the young doctor and before he got a chance to protest you dragged him into the middle of the room to dance.

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You’re the Holmes to my Watson.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why am I not Watson?” “Because you’re not that kind of doctor.” You nudged Spencer playfully. He couldn't help but laugh under his breath. “That is a terrible analogy.” “Terrible or not, it’s true.”

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

He wouldn't want a pet for now. The job is too demanding, he’s away for long periods of time and there'd be no-one to take care of it. Perhaps in the future, when you’re married and have kids. Perhaps.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #fluff alphabet

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embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 06

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, music snob!Remus, Author’s notes: song used: Come Together by The Beatles

BTW: I always try to use little to no physical descriptions for the reader insert but I did add that the reader has some sort of hair. I didn't mention hair texture or length (Sorry if ur bald). My taller readers, I only mentioned that you were shorter than Remus (no height was given)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: ABBA vs. The Beatles

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

“Merlin’s beard! Binns is a sadist; torturing students must be his only pastime,” James yawned, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

Nothing could ever compare to the History of Magic. Today, lessons were dreadful and muddy. Professor Binns’ monotone voice filtered throughout the class, rambling on and on about various dates in history. Hardly anyone paid attention before he started calling on students. Annoyed, Binns would continue to reiterate his inquiry until the student(s) got the correct answer, no matter how long it took.

A sadist indeed.

Although Binns wasn’t the sole reason why the class was pathetic, but rather the lack of any practical work was simply a joke. The class only reminded Y/N of her short time in public school. Geometry? Utterly useless for any daily life interactions. To make matters worse, Binns surprised the class with a pop-quiz and two chapters of reading. Luckily, he had an ounce of mercy in his ghostly body and dismissed the class early for lunch.

James continued, “I would rather fight a dragon than — Woah! Your hair! “

She glanced to look at herself through the reflection in James’ glasses. Her hair, which originally was emerald green, was now turning into a golden yellow. The different colours clashed together boldly.

“You look like the banner for the Holyhead Harpies,” Peter said, striding up to James’ side.

“The Holyhead Harpies,” James said dreamily, “They’re probably one of my favourite teams.

Remus, who had been trailing behind Peter jumps in, “You only like them because they’re all women, you wanker.” He turns to Peter, his hand shooting up to the side of his head, massaging small circles into his temples, “Why’d you get him going?”

James became insufferable whenever someone or something mentioned Quidditch. Not only would he boast about his abilities as a Chaser, but he seemingly was a never-ending encyclopedia about Quidditch. It only worsened as November neared, the start of the new Quidditch season was approaching.

One time Y/N found herself stuck listening to him babble about Ireland winning the world cup for about thirty minutes. She didn’t have the heart to stop him, though. Nobody listened to his rants and he could hardly contain his excitement. How could she tell him she wasn’t interested?

A monstrous smirk etched its way onto his face, “Caught me.”

“Be anymore of a predator would ya, Prongs?”

“Hey! That’s not the only reason why I like them. Did you forget their victory in 1953 against the Heidelberg Harriers? Their strategy was blood-fucking-brilliant. They’re legendary! My father was there to see it in person. Lucky bastard. He told me…”

His voice fades into the background as Y/N catches Remus’ eyes. A glint of mischief shined through them before he forced a fake pitiful smile. He mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to her before looping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, discreetly leaving James’ side and out of the classroom.

That sly, slippery bastard.

"— and did I mention that their seeker was one of the most sought out —”

“Wait, James.”

He abruptly pauses, waiting patiently for her to continue. She leads them out into the corridor and towards the great hall. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off like that, but when is my hair going back to normal?”

Y/N instantly regretted mentioning her hair. There was no trace of a smile on James. His shoulders slumped a bit and his walking even staggered. “Godric, I know, I know and I’m sorry. I thought it would have returned back to normal by now. I’ve been creating reversal spells — even started asking Moony to help.”

“Moony?”

“Remus.”

“Another one of your nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname! It’s a brotherhood — a pack!”

“Oh, sorry Prongs,” she drawled, a sarcastic smile on her face, “If I didn’t know you I would assume you were an asshole.”

“What? How?!”

“You go around calling yourself a marauder, the king of Quidditch and now Prongs. Seems pretty assholely.”

James’ mouth opens before closing again, repeating the process several times.

“Plus, you pull silly pranks every day.”

He chuckles, “Oi! You helped us with that itching idea!”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, “Touché.”

To this, James shakes his head, directing the conversation back to the Holyhead Harpies. Inwardly, Y/N wanted to whack him with a broomstick.

They were among the first students to reach the Great Hall, aside from students who had a free or were excused early by Professor Binns. None of the girls were there yet. Unfortunately, Marlene was held back by Binns, so Y/N was left to sit beside James who sat opposite to Remus, Peter and Sirius.

She had been trying her best to avoid Sirius whenever she could. It was clear he didn’t like her. He never laughed whenever she made a joke, he hardly noticed her, he never praised her, even if she tried to compliment him. He was just rude for no apparent reason. The rest of the marauders and girls knew this, although they preferred not to comment about the obvious, strained relationship (which they didn’t even know the reason for. Granted, Y/N wasn't quite sure herself. Was it the rejection, he just didn't like her or is just an ass?).

Although, ignoring and avoiding him proved to be extremely challenging. Y/N was glued to Lily’s hip ever since the Sorting Ceremony. It also didn’t help that if you were with one marauder, another one was sure to follow. She and James started to spend more time with each other, and by extension, she was obligated to be around at least one other marauder. With the addition of study sessions with Remus, it was inevitable.

Surprisingly, Sirius hadn’t made any snarky remarks, excluding dirty looks, he was being… nice — nicer to her. The action was a stark contrast from his previous behaviour and she speculated a few reasons why:

Most likely, James or Lily, she assumed the former, said something to him. Since his little spat with James at breakfast a few weeks ago, Sirius was tight-lipped ever since.

Maybe he was done being a prick, deciding to stop by himself after realizing he was a prick.

Went through something personal, it stopped, and his behaviour improved.

Minutes after the bell rang, students began to trickle in for lunch. The comfortable chatter rose as Y/N finished eating an apple. Everyone seemed pleased when James’ Quidditch lecture was interrupted as hundreds of owls streamed in, packages and letters dropping into the laps of students. She hadn’t expected anything considering her owl, Celeste, didn’t drop anything off since the first week of October. However, today she fluttered down between the bread and fruit bowls, dropping off several letters and a small parcel onto Y/N’s plate, pecking at the bread crumbs on the table. She tore the letter open, inside it said:

Dear Y/N,

Are you still having a hard time with Charms? If so, perhaps I find some textbooks and send them over.

Don’t slack off this year. Send me a letter whenever you have the chance. (Make sure to tell Celeste to be quieter next time. You know I can, and never will get used to the owls.)

Mom

Her mother finally wrote to her. A sense of joy flooded her body as she placed the letter back down on the oak table. A part of her wondered if Celeste was dropping off her letters to the wrong house, the one back in Toronto as her mother never wrote back. She opened the next letter, immediately recognizing the messy scrawl:

October 19, 1975

Y/N! I thought you replaced me with one of your brits, but a false alarm, your letters just take a while to arrive. Must be tiring for Celeste to travel to and from Scotland then America and back. You know, whenever people see her fly in, they still recognize her.

Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re throwing another dance. Going to be alone this year now that I can’t force you to come. I guess I’ll just watch half the school dry hump each other while I smuggle in firewhiskey.

How’s it going over there? I heard from a few students, even read in the papers about the war. It’s getting pretty crazy over here. Teachers have been meeting and trying to prevent students and parents from losing their shit. My mom has been worried too, writing to me like a lunatic and I’m not even in the UK. The MACUSA have been keeping quiet but they were caught having meetings with counsellors from the Ministry of Magic. Even heard that Jenkins is stepping down. If it keeps getting out of hand here, I can’t imagine what it must be like at Hogwarts. I truly thought the war was dying down, I was wrong. Keep your wand close. Surely, you’ll get away with a hex or two.

Until next time

Matthew G.

So engrossed in her new environment, her old life slipped to the back of her mind. There was a detachment from her reality compared to the one at home. A pang of guilt hit her, swallowing her up from the inside out until another pang hit, loneliness. If she easily forgot everyone, would anyone remember her? None of her old friends, apart from Matthew, had made a move to contact her since she left.

Often thinking about writing them first, she had to remind herself if they wanted to, they would. Especially with the knowledge that people still recognized Celeste.

Was she forgettable and if so, was it karma for forgetting too?

It put a mechanical vice grip on her heart, applying just enough pressure to be a constant reminder. With every beat, it tightened more and more.

Looking around the table, she saw her peers huddle in groups, familiar laughter ringing throughout. So noisy, so taunting. She may have been friends with Lily, Dorcas, James or even Marlene, but they had their own friends. Friendships that had years to develop before she came. She had only known them for less than two months.

Forgettable.

How hilarious, she thought.

“Hey,” a gentle voice cooed into her ear, “Are you okay?”

She hummed back absentmindedly.

James wore a concerned expression, his eyes knitted together, one raised higher than the other like it always does when he was worried. The look he shot her suggested he wasn’t convinced, although he didn’t press; instead opting to stir the conversation. “So, who wrote to you?”

“A friend and my mom —”

A snort so loud that it caused the rest of the marauders, random onlookers and even Lily (who had a look of pure disgust on her face) turned towards them. “What did you say?”

“I got a few letters?”

“No!” He bellowed, “Who sent you them?”

“My friend and my mom —”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, James clutched his stomach laughing. Laughing so hard he has to grip the table to prevent falling off the hall bench. "Haha! Mom?! MOM?” He mocked in a poor American accent, “What the fuck is mom? It’s MUM. Bollocks!”

“We say vitamin.”

“It’s VIT-A-MIN! Who says VIGHT-A-MIN?” Without a pause, James presses his entire body onto her shoulder, smushing her before grabbing the letter her mother sent her. His eyes scanned across the pages before hitting a certain word. “Back home? Maple trees? Where did you use to live exactly?”

“Canada.”

“Canada?! You don’t mean those snowy gits?” At this, Peter and Remus snort under their breaths. Even Lily had to force down a smile.

Staring deadpanned at him, in an unamused voice, “Really?”

“You are a bundle of surprises! I thought you lived… I’m not sure. I assumed somewhere like New Hork.”

“York,” Lily corrects.

“Tomato, tomato,” he jokes, playfully batting his eyes at Lily before biting into his sandwich, “You do live in London, right?”

“Right.”

James takes a moment, letting the conversation die down before he quickly glances at Y/N again. An undecipherable expression crosses his face before it’s promptly replaced with elation, “I take back anything negative I’ve said about Canada. They have an amazing Quidditch rooster. Have you gone to any of their games?”

A low grumble of sighs follows at the mention of Quidditch from James. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus shake his head and sighed dejectedly.

“Nah, I’m a New-Maj, remember? My mom — “

“Mum —”

“ — sorry, Mum — hardly understands the wizarding world, let alone what Quidditch is.”

His eyes were wide, whimsical, as a hand flew to his chest dramatically, “Rubbish! Bloody ridiculous! You’ve never seen a real Quidditch game? One day, I swear I’ll bring you to one! Or you can bring me to Canada one day and we can watch a home game!”

As James continued to rant, Y/N’s mind slowly drifted back to the bitterness in her chest. Trying to distract herself, she borrowed Lily’s quill and a few sheets of parchment, scribbling down letters in response.

Mom,

I’m fine with Charms, you don’t need to send anything. And don’t worry, I’ve been studying for my OWLs.

Love you, write soon.

The next letter was addressed to Matthew:

Matty Matt,

Of course, I didn’t replace you… yet.

Another dance? You would think the students’ protest last year would have influenced the professors this time. I guess it’s time for you to get wasted. I didn’t tell you last time but I think I’m going to a party. A friend of mine is throwing it and I know he’s going to force me to come no matter what. He briefly mentioned costumes and drinks. Plus, there’s going to be some kind of prank that I may or may have not been a part of? Sounds cool right?

Yeah, I’d say it’s been bad up here. I don’t know much about what's going on outside of school, though. The professors are hiding it well. I didn’t even hear about Jenkins stepping down. Keep me updated.

Until next time

She sealed the letters before sending Celeste off again, “Be quieter when you drop off the letters, yeah?”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

It must be her lucky day.

The ringing of the bell went off, signalling the end of class. Professor Flitwick asked the students to stay behind so he could hand out quizzes the students completed on Monday in preparation for their upcoming test on Growth and Reductor charms the following Tuesday.

It was never a good sign when a professor flips your test over to prevent other students from seeing their mark. Flipping it over at a downwards angle, Flitwick handed Y/N her quiz.

Turning it over nervously, a tight coil formed in the pit of her stomach. A large P was plastered on the top right corner in bold red ink. She studied hard for this too. Angrily, she shoved her work into her bag and left the class. This was the third poor she'd gotten in a row. She should have told her mother she needed those Charm books.

“I swear I’m going mad! Her brother is a complete cow! He even — are you listening?”

She looks at the girl beside her, Marlene. Her glossed over, doe eyes must have served as an answer before the blonde shook her head.

“Sorry, distracted,” she mumbles, before forcing out a fake-happy tone, “Continue your story! I wanna hear!”

“Hey,” Marlene says in a softer voice, “If something’s bothering you, you can talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she replies instinctively. She felt bad spacing out during Marlene’s story but her mind was running through and under hoops. The last thing any fifth year student needed was to fall behind in their classes, let alone feeling like nobody cared about them.

At that moment, she wished she was wrapped away in red and gold blankets to wallow in her self-pity party, away from prying eyes. She could feel the burning sensations of tears building up.

Dammit.

Y/N looked out the window to her left. The sky was melting with the warm hues of reds and yellows while the other half was being slowly engulfed into a cloak of twilight. Even from here, she could feel the cool air seeping in from the windows making her tug on the sleeves of her robes.

She continued, “I’m just tired — been a long day. I’m going to take a nap before dinner. See you.”

Judging by the look on Marlene and Lily’s face, guilt riddles her body. They both look sympathetic. The pity only made Y/N feel disgusting. In all honesty, Y/N will care later. Right now wasn’t the time and she desperately needed some shut-eye.

Before she left the room, she overheard them talking.

“What’s up with her?”

“Dunno.”

Great.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Sleep did little to ease her thoughts.

The same uneasiness she felt on the train ride to Hogwarts settled deep into her bones again. She thought she was past this. The worrying about friends, missing home, feeling alone, failing class, stressing about her future. The rational part of her brain knew it was just one silly quiz (and old shitty friends), but knowing herself, if she were to continue to have this mindset, she would only fail in the end.

Dinner ended and Y/N belligerently climbed up the stairs towards the library to attend today’s study session. The Charms quiz threw her into a loop and it was better not to dwell on it, opting to rather use her time for something useful.

Her marks improved significantly since she attended her first session two weeks ago. The last couple of assignments and quizzes she handed in that she worked on during the groups were some of her best work, ever. Additionally, her ability to retain information was improving at astonishing rates and she found herself participating in lessons more often. Unfortunately, she started to doubt her abilities again.

There weren’t as many students as usual. Perhaps it was because of the Quidditch meeting for all teams tonight, or because nobody wanted to spend their time in a library Friday night. She assumed it was the latter.

Although, the same student with black hair from Slytherin was there; tucked away in his usual corner. He was always there. Whether it was the study sessions, another OWL or NEWT student or he simply just enjoyed the library, Y/N could always rely on him sitting there in his little nook.

In the far back, surrounded by tall bookshelves sat Remus. Another student, a first or second year, judging by their height, seemed to be asking him a question, rapidly writing down something on a piece of parchment whilst they walked away. Remus leaned back in the brown chair, his right leg was folded over the other as he stretched.

She spent over twelve hours minimum with Remus directly since the first session, minus the time he was around James and the girls. Perhaps she only started to notice afterwards but she swore Remus wasn’t around this much before. Now, he was everywhere.

In the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, she made a mental list in her head of him:

1. Remus loves sweaters. They weren’t flashy, seemingly preferring to wear ones with small designs, stripes or a solid colour. He wore green the most. He also wore cardigans. Two, in particular, he wore the most; one was white and the other was a muted brown. They were big and hung off his loose frame, the pockets were often stuffed with books, rumpled parchment and his wand.

2. He’s a coffee addict. He drank it in the morning, the afternoon, at the study session and sometimes with meals at dinner. He loved to dump pounds of sugar, so if he only drank black coffee, it usually meant he was in a bad mood. James even joked that he became Sirius whenever he drank black coffee, because haha! Get it? It’s BLACK coffee!

3. He frequented the library whenever he wasn’t with the rest of the marauders. He enjoyed poetry, wrote post-it notes after post-it notes to annotate his favourite parts. He even slept there from time to time, not without having to persuade Pince to not give him detention.

As if Remus magically sensed her, he took a large inhale before he stopped stretching, opening his eyes to look at her. A small smile was plastered on each other’s faces. He stuck up a few fingers to wave at her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi Y/N. I thought you didn’t come on Fridays?”

“I don’t but I have a test, Charms, Tuesday.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, Professor Lupin, but just being down here will help me focus.”

A scarlet blush settled on his face at the mention of his tutoring. “Well come sit with me then.”

Pushing the chair out of the way, she sat down beside him, pulling out her cassette player and earbuds along with her notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus staring at the player curiously.

“Do you want to listen?”

“If you don't mind. I didn’t know you could use these here.” Picking it up, he turned the rectangular device.

“If record players work here, why not this?”

She hands him an earbud, alongside a small collection of other tapes she had on hand.

“Choose whatever you want to listen to.”

Without much thought, he pressed the play button. The upbeat tune of Waterloo by ABBA trickled into their ears. Y/N bobbed her head up and down before the song was suddenly stopped.

A sour grimace sat on Remus’ face before their eyes met, his nose upturned slightly.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“I hate ABBA.”

“What!?”

“I just don’t like their cheesy disco-pop-esk sound. They sound generic and random words are thrown in when they don’t add to the song.”

“Jeez— never met anyone who hated them that much.”

A ghost of a smile appeared before he flicked through her collection of tapes. He picked up Abbey Road by The Beatles. Opening the player up, he slid out Waterloo. With a click and the press of a button, Come Together played.

“So you hate ABBA but not The Beatles? Benny and Bjorn said they were influenced by them!”

“Keyword: Influenced; which is just another word for a shitty knock-off version.”

4. Remus Lupin is apparently a music snob.

“Well, I think both are good.”

“Respectfully, I disagree with you.”

“Whatever you say, professor.”

"I've been thinking a bit, why did you come to Hogwarts? Why not just stay at your old school?"

The sudden switch of topics threw her into a loop. “Wasn’t by choice. My mom’s a doctor and got a position here. It was too good to turn down. But it’s not bad. There’s less wizarding laws.”

He nods his head, "I'm assuming you have dual citizenship?"

"Mhm."

About a half an hour passed as she sighed for the umpteenth time before putting down her quill. Her chair scraped back noisily as Y/N’s hand balled up into a tight fist, feeling her fingernails bite into her palm. She’d been flicking through her notes, the words all blended.

At this rate, if History of Magic didn’t exist, Charms would surely be her least favourite class.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She was at a loss, this was the third time Remus had offered to help and he was persistent. She felt horrible that she was taking up his time to help her on a stupid Charms test.

He continued, “If you think bothering me is an issue, it’s not. I run the sessions on Friday. It’s my job.”

“Fine, but there has to be something I can do in return.”

“Hmm,” Remus pondered for a second, “How about this, I tutor you in Charms and in return you give me your Potions notes? I'm dreadful at it.”

“Deal.”

“Great. Before we start, is there anything in particular that you have questions on?”

Silently tapping on the quiz she received today, Remus snatched it and quickly scanned over her answers and Professor Flitwick’s notes.

“I see what happened. You know, the curriculum taught at Ilvermorny is different. That’s probably why you can’t understand some of this shit.” He cleared his throat, “So as we know, the growth charm increases the size of your intended target…”

His voice, like a light switch, changed instantly. Instead of his softer deep, raspier voice, it became commanding and steady. He never stumbled over his words and articulated his points elegantly. She found herself enraptured by him, understanding why he was in charge of the study groups.

Eventually, Remus takes a pause, “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. You know, you’re really good at this. No matter how much I asked Flitwick or even Lily I could never get it.”

A large blush bloomed on the apples of his cheeks before he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I’m not that good.”

“No time for modesty, Professor Lupin!”

“Okay, okay! So here, do you see what went wrong? There would be a reaction with those two spells if —”

A boy, small, most likely a second year, stood at the foot of the shared table holding a large red and gold book. His hair, dark ginger, similar to Lily’s, was cut short. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued to stare at the two.

“... Um, hi. You're Remus — right?”

“Yup. Did you need help with something?”

“Yes! I’m having trouble with the Transfiguration spell, beetle into button.”

A look of understanding passed through his face before Remus turns to look at her, “Duty calls. It’ll be quick.”

“Of course, take your time.”

It was not quick. Understandably, very few were successful at the ginger’s age to perform the spell, but thirty minutes passed and the second year still didn’t understand the basic concepts. No matter how many times Remus had reiterated his point differently, the boy couldn’t retain it.

“I just don’t get it.”

“You learned this last year, it's a quick revision. I’m not sure what part you’re talking about. Look, do not wiggle or twirl your wand left, direct it towards the right. You have to picture the spell in your head before saying the incantation.”

He guided the boy's hand steadily before performing the spell himself.

“I don’t understand!” The boy whined.

He sighed, “Then we keep trying —”

“It’s too hard. Why are they teaching this crap anyway?”

“Could you stop complaining?” He snapped, closing his eyes before he realized what he’d just done. “I’m sorry about that. I’m… just tired. I can’t help you anymore, though. You should ask someone else,” Remus said brusquely, his eyes unnerving as he stared at the child. As a result, he yelped out a ‘thank you,’ rushing off in the opposite direction.

The muscles in his jaw tensed under the soft glow of the table lamps. There was a pale red tint rimming his eyes and he looked visibly paler than normal. Irritated, he bounced his knee rapidly, up and down, before looking out the large window beside them. The sky was mostly cloudy. Only the peak of the silvery moon appeared. A sliver was missing before it was fully complete.

He closed his eyes, before breathing in. His posture once stiffened, completely relaxed before a flimsy smile reappeared on his face, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

“If you’re tired we can stop.”

“No, s’okay. I’m fine — really.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, adding to her list:

5. Remus was always so hard to read.

147 notes · View notes

glitterge1pen · 3 years

Text

Put A Basket On My Bike

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 3,039

Your apartment complex was composed of seven buildings. Each building was made of two towers that went ten floors up. The two towers were connected by big concrete stairs that had green iron railing. A large platform would connect two apartments before the stairs took you to another floor.

Since the only thing that concealed the stairs from the outside was the railing most of the building was exposed. The sun shone endlessly and lots of people kept plants out on the space outside their doors. You had made a good choice moving here. But when you first moved in you had made one crucial mistake.

You were nice to the neighborhood kids.

You had been moving the last of your boxes into the front hall of your new apartment when three kids came bounding up the stairs. Their footsteps echoed in the labyrinth of stairs.

“Hey! Are you the one who just moved in? The new person?”

“It's rude to just say stuff, you to have to introduce us”

“Right!”

The most enthusiastic of the bunch was Flowerpot. The other stated their name was Poprocks and Flowerpot pointed to Sleep, who said nothing.

“Are those your real names?”

You asked with a sly smile.

“No! Of course not, what are you stupid?”

“Thats rude”

“Right, sorry”

Flowerpot explained that their nicknames were two summers old and that they had chosen names based on their absolute favorite things. You laughed.

“Your favorite thing ever is a flowerpot?”

“Not a flower pot, all flower pots!”

“You can't yell it makes you sound mean”

Flowerpot and Poprocks bickered and argued like this some more. They only stopped when the quiet Sleep spoke up.

“Can we play here?”

“Yeah can we?”

Poprocks reiterated.

“The lady that lived here before you was so mean, she never let us play up here! No one lets us play anywhere, Mad Dog is the only person who doesn't care! And he's mean to!”

You figured that Mad Dog was your across the hall neighbor.

“Does everyone who lives here have nicknames?”

“Mad Dog came with the nickname it's different.”

Flowerpot said, his tiny arms flinging up in the air as he ranted.

“If he lets you guys play out here why did you call him mean?”

Poprocks jumped onto Flowerpots shoulders, excited to speak.

“Because he uses bad words, he never says good morning or smiles at anyone and he always plays his music too late at night!”

She seemed pleased with the list of your neighbors' atrocities and once again you could only laugh.

“Okay, if my neighbor over there doesn't care that you guys mess around out here neither do I”

That first spring in your apartment was filled with various elementary school kids shooting nerf guns, fighting with pinecones, petty arguements and a rare homework session. Other kids from different buildings would often flock to your floor as well. You didn't know most of these ones, but occasionally when Flowerpot, Poprocks, and Sleep would speak to you and talk about apartment complex drama. You were able to differentiate with ‘the kid who always wants to be Mikey when you guys play Ninja turtles’ or ‘the kid who brings over water guns’ and so on.

You left out a bowl of candy for the kids and on your way out for the day you usually ran into Sleep’s mom, who would thank you for letting the kids “make a mess in front of your house” before waving you off.

Besides the pleasant atmosphere of your new home, there was also Kyotani.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

The first time you saw Kyotnai was two days after being officially moved in. He was bringing up his groceries and looked tired so you only waved to him before heading inside your own place. You found that Poprocks was right. Sometime around 11:30 Kyotnai started listening to music. Loud. So loud. You were across the hall and could feel the vibrations of the music. The people below him must be pissed. You were pissed actually.

The next morning when you saw him pulling a bike over his shoulders on his way down the stairs you stopped him.

“Hi, I just moved in a couple days ago,”

You trailed off, he was staring so intensely. You turned away, forgetting where you were going with this conversation beyond the simple introduction. After telling him your name you expected him to introduce himself. He just kept looking at you, eyebrows creased, head tilted up to look at you as you were two steps above him. A panic settled in over you. Your mind scrambled for anything to grasp to make this less awkward.

“Those kids who play out here called you Mad Dog-”

“My name is Kyotani.”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　

After the terrible first meeting you had with your neighbor you did your best to avoid him. You didn't want to deal with whatever it was that had transpired between you two. Well actually, nothing had transpired between you. Much to your surprise that was just how Kyotani was.

When he went to pick up his mail from the front office, he would shoulder check anyone who was standing too close to his mailbox. When he left to go somewhere on his bike he rode in the middle of the parking lot, once you had watched him turn onto the street and when a car almost hit him he just flipped them off.

You couldn't decide if he was arrogant, always running late and that's why he came off as rude, or if he just didn't care. Maybe it was all three. For about two weeks you waited for him to leave first in the mornings and put your headphones on when the music from across the hall got too loud.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　

You had gotten home unexpectedly early. When you came up the stairs you stopped and watched the scene before you in slight amazement. Poprocks and some of the girls from another building were all huddled around Kyotani. One of them had brought their bike over.

“I’m sorry, I know you fixed it that one time but it came off again and I tired to do it but I didn't do it right”

The girl was almost crying and Poprocks patted her back soothingly.

“You're like nine its a miracle you even kinda knew how to fix this”

Kyotani said, his voice still had that gruff edge but you thought it wasn't too bad when he wasn't being horridly awkward.

“Look,”

He said pointing down to a part of the bike by the pedals.

“The chain works because it's tight, when you switch gears that changes how tight the chain is. When it fell off you put it on the wrong ring”

Now he moved his hands to the back of the bike and pushed on another part.

“Because the chain isn't tight, you can just pick it up, and put it where it's supposed to go, put it around the ring, then you just let go of this back here, and done”

Kyotani removed his hands from the bike. The girls cheered and spun the back wheel of the bike to test it.

“It's that easy?”

The girl said with a smile.

“That easy. I can break it again and you can try to fix it”

“No!”

All three girls shouted at once before hurrying away past you down the rest of the stairs. It was now that Kyotani saw you. There was a brief moment of eye contact before you pretended to look for your keys and he went inside his apartment.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　

A couple days later you found yourself headed down to the pool. It had been a mostly shitty week and then you remembered the hot tub. There was only about an hour or so until the pool area that stood in the middle of the complex closed. But you were going to make sure it was an hour well spent. You got yourself ready, grabbing head phones, something to look at while you sat in the hot tub.

It had been cloudy all day so you doubted that anyone was down there. It hadn't rained and the sky had thrown no lightning so you felt safe heading down. Covering your swim wear with a t-shirt and grabbing some sandals you headed down.

You were walking along the cement path to the pool when you spotted a familiar blonde head already in the hot tub. Your steps faltered and you almost stopped. But you lived here, this was your home. You didn't want to feel uncomfortable around anyone here.

Opening the gate with your key three people turned to look at you. You ignored the note of your presence and took off your t-shirt, tossed your belongings onto a beach chair, and did your best to feel confident.

“Mind if I get in?”

“Sure!”

It wasn't Kyotani who answered, but one of the guys he was with. He had brown hair that swopped in front of his eyes a bit.

“This is Iwaizumi,”

Kyotani said pointing to the other person in the hot tub with you guys.

“And this is someone who wasn't supposed to come today but wouldn't stop calling me”

Mentioned person ignored Kyotani and focused only on you.

“My name is Oikawa, nice to meet you,”

After saying this Oikawa turned away from you to face Kyotani.

“You know you if you wanted me to leave you could have just asked”

Oikawa’s voice was double dipped in sarcasm and his face was so dramatic.

“I did actually tell you to leave”

Oikawa and Kyotani went back and forth like this. It eased your nerves, made you feel welcomed. You watched the lap of small waves and bubbles in the stream of warm water. You wished you could stay out in the relaxing water longer.

“Are you a friend of his”

Iwaizumi asked motioning his head to Kyotani, he sat across from you but the other two boys were too engrossed in arguing to pay attention to what he was saying. You sure weren't close to Kyotani, you were barely aqutinaces, but it would spoil the mood if you said otherwise. So only responded with a playful,

“Maybe”

Iwaizumi nodded before asking another question.

“You live here too?”

“Yeah, I actually live across from Kyotani”

Oikawa saw an opportunity to jump in here.

“What's that like? Terrible?”

“Shut up Oikawa”

Kyotani said quickly, flicking droplets of water at the other with his fingers.

“Besides the loud music it's not too bad”

You said with a shrug of your shoulders. Kyotani turned to you, a puzzled look adorning him.

“The music is loud?”

“Are you kidding? Has no one ever said anything to you before?”

The words came out as a stifled laugh as you watched Kyotani try to process this information.

“Why didn't you say anything before?”

You were about to answer when a crack of thunder cut you off.

“Shit”

Kyotani said before hosting himself out of the hot tub. The other boys followed suit and you all headed up to the building together.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

Oikawa said, pulling you to him by the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“You should ask someone if it's okay to touch them before you touch them dumbass”

“Oh he's actually right about something, sorry about that”

Oikawa apologized and pulled his arm off you.

“Apology accepted, and I was planning on watching a movie maybe getting some take out, nothing extragevent”

“Let us come over!”

“Really?”

You said, surprised that your rather normal plans excited Oikawa.

“I can use a movie night where I don't have to watch a Godzilla movie. By the way did you know there are a lot of Godzilla movies?”

“It’s not every time, okay? I let you pick movies too!"

Iwaizumi said, suddenly getting defensive. The two were in their own heated conversation now as Kyotnai and you trailed behind them up the stairs.

“Are you sure it's okay if we come over?”

“I’m sure”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"Oh, sorry I can come back another time,"

You said to Kyotani, propping open the swinging door with your foot. Usually you did laundry on a different day but the week had been busier than expected.

"It's okay. I'm leaving-"

He was cut off by the sound of Sleep and Flowerpot jumping down the stairs. There were laundry rooms on every other floor, they sat on platforms in-between the sets of stairs. They only had a washer and dryer, and enough room for one person to come sit watch over their clothes.

"Hey let me help!"

Flowerpot dipped underneath your laundry basket and pushed it up from your grasp. Sleep rushed to help his friend before the basket had chance to fall over. They placed it onto the washing machine with a thunk.

"How come you little shits are so nice to them and not to me?"

"Because they're nice to us!"

Flowerpot said pointing at you.

Kyotani made a sound somewhere between a growl and a gruff laugh.

"What and I'm not?"

Flowerpot crossed their arms, not backing down to Kyotani.

"Just because you fix our bikes and toys and stuff doesn't count"

"I don't know, sounds pretty nice to me"

You said teasingly.

“The parents of the building hanging out!”

“Huh?”

You said as Poprocks bounded into the cramped room and pulled herself up on top of the dryer. Her swinging legs shut the hatch that Kyotani had just opened. The kids laughed at his annoyed expression.

“You guys always do stuff for us, and even though it's not a yard you let us play in your yard”

You were able to laugh but Kyotani said nothing, his head buried too far into the dryer for you to see his face.

“Speaking of parents dont you kids have other adults to go bother?” You asked them.

“Woah, Mad Dog, how hot is it in there?”

Flowerpot asked curiously when Kyotani pulled his head and the last of his clothes from the dryer.

“What?”

Kyotani said.

“Your face is so red it has to be really hot-”

“Hey don't do that!”

Both you and Kyotani said at the same time as Flowerpot attempted to stick his head in the dryer. Kyotani yanked at the kids shirt pulling him out.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! It's not even that hot!”

“It's rude to yell like that”

“I know!”

“Then why are you still yelling?”

With that Flowerpot chased Poprocks out of the room, Sleep and Kyotani following them out. Leaving you alone to do your laundry in quiet.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“That's weird”

You said looking at the banking app on your phone. Your paycheck hadn't deposited yet. Most Fridays the money just showed up in your account. You closed the app and then opened it again only to get an error message. You tried on your laptop. Then you googled your bank's name and found a couple articles talking about how your bank was updating their app, website, and other internal servers. Something hadn't gone correctly though. A lot of people couldn't access their accounts online.

You decided you would deal with this issue tomorrow. You opened up the fridge trying to piece together a meal with what you had when pure fear raced up your spine. It was the first of the month. Rent was due. You ran to your room putting your shoes back on, checking what time the bank closed, grabbing your wallet and then running outside.

You were halfway down the stairs when you saw the bus you were supposed to be getting on pull off down the street. The one time the bus was there when it should be and you weren't there to get on it. The bank was going to close soon, it was about four miles away you wouldn't be able to walk there in time. You turned back up the stairs and knocked on Kyotanis door.

“How fast are you on your bike?”

☽༓･*˚⁺��͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Riding on the pegs of Kyotanis bike was a church like experience. You leaned over him, arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders. At turns and stop lights you closed your eyes, or buried your head into him. Everything was just blurs of sound and color. The two of you left behind whistles of speed as Kyotani continued to pedal faster and faster.

“I have the-”

The person in the car couldn't even finish before Kyotani spat out his own retort.

“I’m on a fucking bike!”

This was true. He was on a bike and somehow both very good and very bad at riding it. When he turned into the parking lot of the bank you two spun as he braked. You felt disoriented and didn't want to let go of him just yet.

“Do you have rent to pay or not?”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!”

You jumped down from the pegs and jogged into the bank. Kyotani had managed to get you there with only ten minutes before the bank closed. You weren't the only one in line to speak to a teller though. Your fingers tapped on your arm, your foot bounced worrying that you wouldn't be able to speak to anyone in time. But another teller opened their station and you were saved.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The ride home was much less stressful. You didn't feel nervous about being flung into oncoming traffic because Kyotani had also seemed to calm down. There was no aggressive speed or sharp turns. The wind felt gracious on your skin, the sun orange and cool in the dusk. It felt like you were gliding over the concrete.

“We should do stuff like this”

You said.

“What? Go to the bank again?”

“No, we should like hang out”

“Hm”

You slapped his shoulder.

“Don't just say hm”

“Fine, I agree we should,”

The words fumbled around in his mouth and it was the closet you'd ever see him stutter.

“Hang out”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: No editing , no planning, just the usual late night word vomit.

#kyotani x reader #kyotani kentaro #Kyōtani Kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

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blindingdutchy · 3 years

Text

lamentation | SIX

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,804

warnings: fluff. lots of fluff. a sprinkle of angst but just a tiny bit.

18+!!! minors stay away!

The following morning at school you relieved to see Peter standing at your locker, appearing unscathed aside from the timid and fearful look in his eye as he watched you approach him. You knew that he was probably expecting you to shut him out again, though you were full of surprises that morning when you breathed a quiet sigh and felt all the remaining anger purge from your system entirely. In reality you had been planning to give him a piece of your mind, telling him just how much of an idiot you thought that he was for his stupid idea, but seeing him sent all those thoughts flying away in an instant.

Instead, all that you could think of was how happy you were to see that he was okay. He was tense as you opened your locker, but seemed to relax slightly when you gave him a fleeting once over and nodded to yourself in approval. Peter was standing and didn't look to be in any pain, and that was all you cared about in that moment.

Apparently Peter was full of surprises too, because the second that you closed your locker he pulled you into a bone crushing hug that quite literally knocked the wind out of you. You gasped quietly, freezing in place at the sudden contact, before you slowly melted into his grip and hugged him back. He somehow managed to squeeze you tighter at the return of the embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair, "I'm so, so, so sorry."

A part of you wondered if Peter even knew what exactly he was apologizing for, if he really understood just why you were upset. Did he know the sorts of things that had crossed your mind last night? Could he really fathom all the crazy emotions you had been feeling?

You didn't think he did. Really, how could he, when even you were still reeling and trying to pinpoint all the different reasons you had been so upset? There were the obvious reasons--like the horrible flashbacks to that fateful day when your sister had been tragically killed--but there were also more complex, subtle reasons that you weren't ready to admit out loud.

Things like the fact that you'd never been so enraged about anything as you had been at the thought of somebody hurting Peter Parker. Not even the animosity you felt toward the Avengers could compare to the fury you had felt while listening to him fight and be attacked by those men. It puzzled you; how could that affect you so much?

You knew why, despite your unwillingness to face the truth. You knew, deep down, that you had been so upset because the thought of Peter being hurt scared you nearly as much as you had been that day. It pained you to think of it, and that was a problem.

It was a problem because being friends with Peter, when he lived the life that he did, meant constantly living in that fear. He was a superhero, constantly putting his life on the line for all the innocent people of Queens and the world alike, and that was absolutely terrifying for you. And yet, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to push him away like you felt you should.

He pulled away from you slowly, though he kept his hands firmly on your shoulders, and studied your face closely as he asked, "Are you okay? Are we okay?"

Hearing Peter say the word we in reference to himself and you gave you a funny feeling, but you ignored it. "Are you okay?" you parroted, instead, raising your eyebrows challengingly.

"Yes." he stated without hesitation, "I had some bruising, but it's mostly gone now. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, I swear."

You hummed quietly, leading the way to Calculus as he finally released his iron-like grip on your arms. "And was there a reason you didn't come to my window?" you questioned further, glancing back at the boy who chewed his lower lip anxiously.

Peter didn't answer until the two of you had sat in your seats, leaning close to speak in a hushed tone that no one else could hear, "I didn't want to scare you."

The sharp remark was instantly at the tip of your tongue, wanting to spit at him that he already had, repeatedly, but you held back at the sight of his big, brown, puppy eyes blinking at you shyly. He was fiddling with his fingers apprehensively, clearly waiting for some sort of remark, and it gave you pause. This was Peter, and Peter wouldn't hurt a fly intentionally.

You had to keep reminding yourself of that. Reminding yourself that he didn't mean to scare you like he had, and that he meant well even if his intentions didn't quite land right. So, you just whispered back, "It scared me when you didn't show up, and you didn't say anything."

"I--I didn't know if you wanted me to."

Catching one of his fretting hands in your own, you gave him a serious look as you replied, "I always want you to."

The teacher called the class to attention immediately after you closed your mouth, and you turned away with burning cheeks at the star-struck look on Peter's face. Perhaps that had been too bold of a statement, but it was the truth; you did always want to hear from Peter. You always wanted to know if he was okay, even if all he had to say to you was a bland text to let you know he'd survived another night of patrol.

Now, after all the things you had heard, you hoped he'd take your words seriously and let you in like you had for him. Could you go to sleep every night without knowing for sure he had made it through the night unscathed? Easily, the answer was no. You couldn't, and you really wanted him to put your mind at ease.

After gym class, which was spent with you panting whilst running sprints with Peter pretending to be just as winded, he held your bag for you beside your locker and waited patiently for you to exchange your books. You could tell that something was on his mind from the way he shifted from foot to foot nervously, and growing tired of having to chase your bag around, you asked, "What's your deal, Pete?"

He blinked at the nickname, but after a moment finally found his voice again, "Sit with me at lunch?"

"Okay?"

"No, like, sit with Ned, MJ, and I." he reiterated, and you wrinkled your nose. "Come on, I promise they'll love you! There's really nothing to be scared of, (Y/N)."

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that there were in fact a million reasons for you to be scared, but he pouted his lips like a child and pleaded with you silently until you caved, "Fine, fuck, just stop making that face!"

And so, you found yourself trailing through the cafeteria awkwardly in Peter's shadow. You could feel the stares on your body even though you refused to look, the stares of all your fellow students watching the resident crazy girl make her way through the cafeteria all year. You usually sat at the table right by the doors and the garbage cans, the one place you could slip in and out without making a spectacle of yourself, but Peter's usual table was all the way in the back of the large room.

There sat Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones, both of whom were watching you curiously as you looked back at them in discomfort. You'd never known them to be mean--well, Michelle could mean in her blunt manner--but that didn't ease your nerves at all. The fear you felt wasn't because you were weary of their judgment.

You were scared of letting more people into your life. More attachments meant more for you to lose, and after all that you had lost, you were rather unwilling to put yourself out there. It was a surprise enough to yourself and probably everyone else that you'd made room in your caged heart for Peter. He was perhaps the most dangerous of all to let in, yet you had.

"Hey, (Y/N), right?" Ned greeted cheerfully, doing a weird handshake with Peter as the two of you sat down across from him and MJ. You just nodded, not trusting your voice to come out should you dare to speak. "How was the Stark Internship, dude?"

Your face pinched in puzzlement, and Peter chuckled at the way you glanced at him curiously. "She knows, Ned." he muttered, nudging your knee with his own as he pulled a smashed sandwich from his bag and unwrapped it. "It was... rough. I handled it, though."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the Stark Internship was a cover story for Peter's secret identity. "She knows? You told her, already?" MJ gaped, "No offense, but I had to figure that shit out for myself."

As Ned and MJ stared at Peter incredulously, the two of you shared a look as you begged him not to say anything and he scrambled to think of any sort of a cover story. "She--she helped me one night when I got hurt pretty bad. Had to take my mask off." he finally blurted, stumbling over his words, and you noticed how his eyes squeezed shut for a moment in frustration at his lame answer.

"Why didn't you call one of us?" Ned interrogated, eyes flickering between your own and Peter's as if he were trying to pick up on any dishonesty.

MJ, blunt as always, just asked, "Is that why you started following her around like a dog?"

You had to chuckle when Peter pouted, sticking his tongue out at Michelle's remark and whining, "I did not follow her around like a dog!"

"You kind of did." you mumbled quietly. All three of them stared at you in stunned silence for a few seconds, shocked by your sudden interjection, and you busied yourself with rearranging your carrot sticks.

Peter's knee bumped yours again, and you nudged his back. He shot you a little smile, pleased with you making an effort even if it was thoughtless, and you found yourself relaxing slightly under his gaze as MJ and Ned continued to joke about how much Peter had embarrassed himself following you around. "Remember when he threw all of his shit on the ground in Calculus?" Ned sputtered through laughter.

The brown-haired boy's cheeks blazed red at the story, and you found yourself laughing along with his two friends as you remembered it. At the time it had only embarrassed you, but now as you looked back on it, you couldn't help but to find it endearing. So, you nudged his knee again and bit back the grin fighting its way onto your face as you kept your eyes on your lunch.

Suddenly, he put his hand on your knee and squeezed it softly, and your entire body seemed to burst into flames. Before you could pull away, scared of the intense feeling it gave you, a voice cut above all the rest, "Penis Parker!"

His hand was gone in an instant, but you remained hot for an entirely different reason. Flash Thompson sauntered up to the table with his typical smug smirk, calling again, "Hey, Penis Parker! Finally find a girl miserable enough to settle for you?"

Peter's face turned red and pinched into a frown, but he just muttered quietly, "Go away, Flash."

"Figures you'd go for (Y/N). The whole dead family thing, right? Does she just get you?"

You tensed, turning your head slowly to glare up at Flash with a ferocity that seemed to even make him falter, though he hid it quickly behind his usual mask. "Go the fuck away, Eugene." you hissed, but he just laughed.

Seeing that he wasn't planning on going anywhere, punctuated by the way he propped his foot up on one of the seats and sneered down at you, you quickly grabbed all of your stuff and stood up. Peter, Ned, and MJ were quick to follow, and all four of you made your way out of the cafeteria as Flash shouted, "Aw, did I hurt your feelings, Penis Parker?"

"Peter?" you called after him, trailing behind as he walked at a brisk pace. Ned and MJ disappeared around a corner, heading off in a different direction, and you were trying to catch up with the boy who seemed eager to shake you off. "Pete?"

He slowed, sighing quietly, and turned to face you with still red cheeks and eyes swimming with anger. "What?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Briefly, you felt hurt at his attitude, but you brushed it off. You knew that he was just frustrated at Flash, and you were no stranger to misplaced anger. It would have been pretty hypocritical of you to be upset with him after how long he'd put up with you lashing out at him when he just wanted to be your friend.

You walked toward him hesitantly, almost reaching out to hug him, but you thought better of it in the end. You didn't want to push things too far, too fast, and one hug was more than enough for one day. Instead, you rocked back on your heels and asked, "Walk me to class?"

Peter blinked at the question, clearly expecting you to say something else, and after a moment nodded. "Yeah, yeah, let's go." He didn't relax at all as he walked beside you through the still empty halls, though his hand kept bumping yours every now and then, and for a fleeting second outside of your classroom he squeezed your hand before dropping it and walking away.

The rest of the day, Peter was stiff and aloof. He barely talked to you during Speech class, though that didn't really matter considering Ms. Lovell actually lectured that day, but you could tell he was upset. It felt a little strange to suddenly switch roles; he was now playing the part of the closed off one, and you were left trying to figure out how to get through to him.

Making people feel better wasn't exactly your strong suit anymore. Once upon a time it had been, but since your sister's death you'd seemingly lost the ability to even make yourself better. Yet, you wanted more than anything to get him back to the smiling, happy boy he'd been earlier that day.

As the two of you packed up your things after class to go home, you watched him anxiously to see if he'd finally say something, but he didn't. So, you cleared your throat and quietly asked, "Do you want to hang out?"

He paused for a moment, staring down at his bag in silence with tensed shoulders and creased brows, before finally looking up at you and giving the tiniest smile. "Come on." was all he said, zipping his bag and waiting expectantly for you to follow him out of the classroom.

You followed him out of the building, to the subway, onto the subway, and off of it again, all without a single clue as to where you were going. It wasn't until the he lead you into an apartment building that you realized he was taking you to his house, and suddenly you were extremely nervous. "Do you live here?" you asked, immediately cringing at the stupid question.

He just laughed, "Yeah. My Aunt May is home, she'll probably offer you food, but just say no. Trust me."

For a moment you wanted to ask why, but then you remembered how he'd told you when he'd first started following you around that his Aunt May was a truly atrocious cook. Except for cherry pie, it seemed, because he'd raved to you about that over the phone for what felt like hours the other day. Nodding affirmatively, you replied, "Right, just say no."

Peter's home life was far different from your own, even before the incident. His aunt was a bright, lively young woman who was very excited to meet you, and just as much of an affectionate person as you were finding Peter to be. She'd been overjoyed to meet you, letting slip that Peter had told her lots about you, but he'd cut her off before she could ramble about the things he'd said.

Part of you wondered if he'd told her how the two of you had met, but you knew better than to think Peter would do such a thing. He wasn't the type of person to spill others' secrets. How could he, when he had such a big secret of his own?

His room was everything you had expected it to be, though. A cramped little room with bunk beds adorning Star Wars sheets, LEGOs everywhere, and a plethora of computer parts littering every possible surface. He blushed a little as you took it all in, stammering when you smirked at the sheets in amusement, but overall he seemed relieved when you didn't mention the clutter.

It was very Peter Parker. Messy, slightly chaotic, and very nerdy. You sat on the bottom bunk, which you deciphered to be his by the rumpled sheets, and watched as he awkwardly tried to sort out the mess a little. "So," you started, "why don't you stand up to Flash at school?"

He sighed, giving up on his tidying and sitting beside you. "I knew you would ask that." he joked, though the humor didn't quite meet his eyes. "It's a long story."

"I have time, Pete." you spoke softly, and a little smile twitched at his lips.

He raked a hand through his messy hair, the combed style starting to curl from a long day, and you wondered what his hair looked like with nothing done to it. "Well, I guess it all goes back to when I first got... my abilities. You know, after the bite, I kinda went crazy for a bit. I was determined to prove myself, or something--I don't know. I just showed off a lot and got myself into a lot of trouble because of it."

Peter continued when you looked at him expectantly, "My Uncle Ben was going crazy too, trying to figure out what was going on with me. We got into a lot of fights before he--before he, um, died. We got into one the night he died."

"He tried to stop me from going out because he just knew I was going to do something I shouldn't, and we just got into this huge argument. It ended with me telling him he wasn't my dad and to stop pretending he was, and I ran off." He was getting choked up, stumbling over his words and gripping his knees with his hands as tears welled up in his eyes at the memories.

Hesitantly, you put your hand on top of his, and he was quick to flip his hand over and grip yours tightly as if he were afraid you'd pull away from him. As he spoke, it was starting to sink in just how much Peter truly could understand your anguish over your sister. He could understand why you blamed yourself, because he too had blamed himself, and your heart broke at the thought of Peter ever being in a position like the one you'd been in that night.

Had he ever tried to do what you had planned to do? Your own eyes burned at the thought, and you squeezed his hand back just as tightly. "He came looking for me, and happened to interrupt a robbery. Uncle Ben, he--he was a really good guy. He couldn't just let the guy get away. So, he uh, he tried to stop him... and the guy stabbed him."

"I'd seen the robbery before that, but I'd been so angry I just kept walking. I could have stopped it before Uncle Ben ever showed up, but I didn't, and he got stabbed because of it." Peter coughed to stop himself from really crying, "The last thing he said to me was that with great power comes great responsibility, and I just can't let him down."

You almost wished that you hadn't asked, because it hurt to see him in so much pain, but you felt good knowing that Peter really did understand you. You felt closer to him, and a little part of you felt a little less distaste for superheroes in that moment too. Did they all know such tragedy? Did they all suffer such pain, too?

Peter looked at you, blinking away tears as his voice steadied, "So, that's why I don't use Spiderman unless I have to. I didn't stand up for myself before, so I shouldn't now. I didn't play sports before, so I shouldn't now. It wouldn't be fair, and it wouldn't be right. I have this gift, and it's my responsibility to use it for good. I can deal with Flash's stupid taunting--I was so upset today because of what he said about you."

The fluttering was back, stronger than ever, and you couldn't shove it aside no matter how hard you tried. The moment was too serious--too heartfelt. It was too close.

Doing what you did best, you created a little more distance to keep your heart safe. You weren't ready to admit that maybe you liked Peter in a not-so-friendly sort of way. You weren't ready to let him into that last little bit of your heart.

So, you joked, "Well, he was right about one thing--I do get you." To your relief, he laughed, though he didn't let go of your hand. You didn't want him to, either.

"Seriously, though, you don't have to worry about me. Flash doesn't bother me, not really anyways." Peter continued, and the pair of you smiled at each other like a couple of love-struck fools for a long moment. Peter, unlike you, wasn't so keen on or capable of hiding his feelings. It was written all over his face for you to see that he liked you, and even if it made you feel good it still made you squirm with discomfort.

You were just thankful that he hadn't tried to take things further, though the subtle touches were probably his timid way of doing just that. The touches you could handle. It was what came after--the truly taking things to that next level part--that scared you. If you told him how you thought you were feeling, and he told you the same, then that just made the possibility of losing him that much worse.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [80]

ix. what you take with you

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, fighting, language.

Summary: Two unexpected people join you in your captivity.

a/n: NUMBER 80??!! HOW DO WE ONLY HAVE 20 LEFT???? LIKE W H A T? also this is one of my favorite chapters so I’m excited to share it with you!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Time passes in the cave slowly as you wait for something to happen. Anything really. But your captivity is largely uneventful after your initial escape. Most of the Children of Gabriel ignore you as they go past, moving in and out of the cave, and only once does one of them interact with you, a few hours into your captivity. She grabs your head and tugs it forward, checking for a mind drive scar, and when she finds none she informs the others and leaves you alone again.

Sometime after dark, something finally starts to happen.

There’s a commotion in the cave, and people rush past you and towards the door, some of them talking about new hostages as they go. You stand, moving as close to the door as you can, eyes trained on it as you await the arrival of whoever else they found. You finally see movement towards the entrance to the cave, and you watch two people being led inside, bags over their heads. You feel your heartbeat quicken, wondering if you know who they are, but you don't have to wonder for long because the taller of the two figures mutters, “I need to see Gabriel.”

You feel a rush of relief, and worry, at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, and you call out, “Bellamy?”

He calls your name back, and then the bag is pulled off his head, the two of you looking at each other in shock. Bellamy’s face drops when he sees the blood smeared on your face, and you shake your head a little trying to let him know that it’s nothing to worry about. You tug against your chains, trying to reach him, and he launches himself towards you, slipping from his captors grip. He rushes across the cave to you, his arms wrapping around you for half a second before he is yanked away and you’re rewarded with a hard slap. You let out a sound of pain, groaning at the familiar metallic taste washing over your tongue, and you turn and spit the blood from your mouth, before looking up with a glare, eyes landing on the person who slapped you.

You almost roll your eyes when you realize it’s Asher, who now has black warpaint smudged around his eyes. He smiles at you, clearly enjoying his torment of you. “What? Do you have something to say?”

You let your anger get the best of you and you search your head for the nickname used in Sanctum that you’re sure will hurt him, coupled with a reminder of the insult he threw your way before knocking you out. “Yeah, how’d a Null get past the radiation shield anyways? Your red blood isn't good for anything.”

The insult hurts him, as intended, but it earns you another smack, this time accompanied by Bellamy’s struggling cry of protest. You keep your sound of pain at bay this time and turn your glare back to the man, who smirks at you. “I slipped out the same time your boyfriend did, he was just too busy to notice.”

You look at Bellamy, who looks like he has a million things he wants to ask you, but you’re cut off by a voice muttering, “Ew, what’s that smell?”

You look over to the second hooded figure, and watch as they tug the bag off Josephine’s head. She looks around in disgust before her eyes find you, taking in your appearance, and she scoffs, “God, you look like shit.”

Josephine’s presence seems to remind Bellamy that there is more at stake here, and he looks at the man standing beside you. “Which one of you is Gabriel? We have information critical to your cause.”

Josephine laughs, “Their cause is a joke.”

“Quiet!”

But Josephine doesn't stop, she just continues her taunting with a smirk. “Do you think that dressing up in scary costumes helps your cause? We laugh at you in Sanctum.”

“Why aren't you laughing now?”

The same woman from the alleyway, a blonde with warpaint, pulls out a sword and points it at Josephine. She doesn't flinch, but you can see Bellamy start to worry, and he calls out, “Just wait. They can make hosts, as many as they want.”

Asher turns to look at you in shock, Bellamy reiterating the same information you initially offered him, verifying it before your 24 hours is up. You smirk at him a little and mutter, “Told you.”

He glares at you before turning to look at Bellamy. “Details, or your rude friend dies.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

The man pulls out your Grounder knife and holds it to your throat, giving Bellamy a sinister smile. “Something tells me we could make you talk.”

“Touch her, and I'll tell you nothing.” You can see Bellamy fighting against his rising anxiety, trying to seem like the one in control, despite the fact that all of you are restrained and you have a knife at your throat for the second time in the last few hours. “You don't have long before the 12 Primes are back. Gabriel gets the details, no one else.”

The man grinds out, “There were 13.” He tosses you to the ground and yells to the others, “Chain them up! If the old man doesn't respond, you die.”

They chain Bellamy to your left and Josephine to your right, and all of you watch as one of the Children of Gabriel grabs a radio and starts to speak into it, walking out the cave as he does. “Jericho to Providence. We have a prisoner that claims Primes can now make hosts. If you're out there…”

You don't hear the rest, the man now out of sight, the rest of the children dispersed, the three of you now alone. You look to the entrance of the cave in confusion, thinking of the failure all of you have had with radios up to this point, a fact that you are well aware of, despite your limited time on this moon. So how come people born and raised here don't know the same fact? You look over at Bellamy, who looks equally confused, and you voice the question you're both thinking. “Radios don't work on this moon, how could they not know that?”

“They work in one place.”

You and Bellamy look over at Josephine, catching onto something in her tone. She leans her head back against the wall, eyes on the ceiling, looking anxious and afraid. “What is it?”

“If they're calling Gabriel, that means he's alive.”

Bellamy, sensing a deeper history, asks, “What's the deal with you two?”

“What? Are we gonna be friends now?”

He lets out a soft snort of laughter, “Doubtful.”

She glances at both of you, taking you in, before she turns away again, focusing her gaze on the wall in front of her. “I've been in love with Gabriel for 236 years, the last 70 of which he's been trying to kill me. You know, relationships.”

You and Bellamy share a look, glad that your relationship hasn't featured any murder attempts. Well, there was an attempt during the eclipse, but that’s not the same thing. You look back to Josephine when you hear a strange tapping sound, your eyes falling to her finger, tapping Morse Code against the cuff. Bellamy and Josephine notice too, and she nods, “Morse code, huh? She's crafty, I'll give her that.”

She focuses on the Morse Code, spelling out the translation as her finger moves. “B-o-o-h-o-o. That's harsh.”

You smile at your twin’s quip, until your brain starts to realize something. You look at Josephine with curiosity, aware that if Clarke is cracking jokes about Josephine’s love life, then she can hear Josephine talking about her love life. “She can hear us?”

“It would seem so, which means the wall separating our minds is almost gone. When that happens, she'll stroke out, I'll download, and you can say goodbye to your genocidal twin.”

“Let me talk to her.”

She gives you a condescending look, “I'd have to give over control for that, so no.”

“But she can hear me?”

“Yes, she can hear you.” She rolls her eyes at you and the hopeful expression on your face. “For God's sake, just say what you want to say.”

You think of all the things you want to say to Clarke, all the things you want to tell her in case you have to say goodbye, but then you realize you don't want to say goodbye. You can’t say goodbye. No matter what it takes, no after what you have to do, you will save your twin's life, the way she has saved yours and countless others on multiple occasions. Which is why you settle on, “I won't let you die.”

You’re serious when you say it, the words a promise to the Universe that you will do what needs to be done. Josephine seems taken aback by your fervor, maybe even a little jealous, but you see her hand absentmindedly rub her wrist, the same wrist that usually holds your twin’s bracelet. You smile for a second, but then the bracelet reminds you of Madi, who is supposed to be here right now. You turn to face Bellamy, fighting back your worry. “Wait, where are the others?”

“Back in Sanctum. Josephine cut Murphy so Emori stayed behind with him, and Echo stayed behind to make sure the others are safe. We never found Madi before we had to leave, and Jackson, Miller, and Jordan were late. We didn't have time to wait because the guards were closing in, so I grabbed Josephine and we escaped.” He moves closer to you, his chains reaching yours, thankfully, allowing the two of you to sit close. His voice drops to a whisper as he lifts his hands to caress your face, finger running across the dried up blood, brows furrowed with worry. “I didn't want to leave you behind, but when you didn't show up and the guards were about to grab us, I thought about what’s best for everyone and decided that saving Clarke is important.”

You smile at him, letting him know you aren’t upset that he left you behind. Because technically you were already out of Sanctum. “You’re right, saving Clarke is important, and it’s exactly what I wanted you to do. Clarke’s trapped in her head and her body is a ticking time bomb. I can take care of myself.”

He smiles at you, eyes falling on the blood again, its presence only further convincing him of what you're saying. “I know you can, because you’re strong. Stronger than any of us.”

The two of you kiss, his touch light and affectionate, but you pull away when someone behind you exclaims, “Oh, barf. Get a room.”

You roll your eyes at Josephine and mutter, “Go float yourself.”

“Funny, your sister said the same thing to me when we first met.”

You ignore her and slide down to the ground, leaning against the wall, and Bellamy does the same, the three of you sitting in silence for a few hours. You see no one in those few hours, and eventually the three of you fall asleep, resting the best you can on the cold hard ground of the cave, with you and Bellamy huddled close to fight off the slight chill in the air.

You wake a few hours later, sometime after sunrise, according to the small amount of light filtering into the cave, and when you open your eyes and look at Bellamy, you find that he’s already looking at you. Despite your circumstances, despite the possibility that you, Clarke, Josephine, and Bellamy could possibly die in a few hours, you feel a rush of peace looking up at his face, and the distinct feeling that everything is right in the world. Bellamy must feel it too, because he leans in to kiss you, soft and sweet, reminding you just how much you love his morning kisses. And his afternoon kisses, and his evening kisses, and his happy kisses, and his sad ones, his comforting ones, his passionate ones. Every kiss from Bellamy is better than the one before it, and you’re sure you could spend your entire life doing nothing but kissing him and you’d still die happy.

Bellamy pulls away and looks down at you with a smile. “To other people, you are the moon. The radiant natshana that lights up even the darkest of nights, but to me, you’re everything. The moon, the sun, the stars. You’re the air I breathe and the love in my heart. You are every leaf, every tree, every moon, planet, and galaxy in this endless Universe. You are everything to me, and you have completely captured my heart from the moment that I met you, though I tried to deny it at first.”

The two of you laugh softly as you remember the animosity that you shared in the beginning. Bellamy starts to sit up, pulling you up with him, both of you turning to face each other as you do. You can tell he has more that he wants to say to you, and though you don't understand why you're getting this declaration of love now, you accept it with a smile. “I have never been loved by someone the way you love me, and I know I’m incredibly lucky that I get to have this. That I get to have you. You have loved me at my best, and you have loved me at my very worst, and even when I am lost and struggling, still you’re there, loving me through it all. You have the biggest heart, one that is so full of love that you are so eager to give, and I love you for that. I love your strength, your vulnerability, your kindness, your beauty. I love everything about you, and I just want to give you the world. I want to protect you, and love you, and make you happy until I draw my last breath. And I’ve been waiting to tell you all of this, waiting for the perfect moment during our new life of peace, but I’m starting to worry that I won’t get that chance. I can't tell you how many times I’ve seen you laying beside me, injured, looking like you’re on the brink of death, and when I couldn't find you yesterday, I nearly lost it. So I’m going to do this while I can, while you’re in front of me, alive and okay.”

He reaches up to push your hair away from your face and you close your eyes and lean into his touch, smiling. When you open your eyes again, his hand is extended between the two of you, a small ring held out in his palm. It’s beautiful; a small round sapphire surrounded by a perimeter of tiny diamonds, all situated on a thin gold band. You look up at Bellamy in shock, his expression one of complete adoration as he whispers, “Will you marry me?”

You look between him and the ring, wondering if he’s joking, but when you meet his eyes again, you can see that he’s completely serious, and still anxiously awaiting your answer. Your face splits into a grin and you practically lunge towards him, pulling him into a hug before peppering kisses all over his face. He laughs, one of those bright pretty ones that you wish you could capture in a bottle and keep forever, and his voice is light with happiness when he says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You kiss him softly on the lips, pulling away just enough to whisper, against them, “Yes.”

His smile gets even wider, and he pulls you in for another hug, before leaning back and holding up the ring again. He takes your hand and slides it onto your left ring finger, both of you marveling at the perfect fit. You admire the ring, and the way it looks on your finger, and he whispers, “It was my mother’s.”

You look up at him, your eyes growing wide. “Oh, Bellamy.”

But he smiles, sadness unable to reach him in this moment. “She gave it to me before she was floated, told me to give it to the girl that captures my heart. I didn’t have it when I hopped on the dropship, but when I went back to the ring with the others, I went looking for it. I’ve had it with me everyday since I left you on Earth, carrying it with me to remind myself of the girl that captured my heart.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you start to lean in for another kiss when a voice behind you stops you in your tracks. “Ugh, again? Are the two of you capable of keeping it in your pants long enough for us to get out of here?”

You and Bellamy both cut back, “Shut up, Josephine.”

She holds her hands up in mock surrender before sitting up from her sleeping position, resting her head against the cave wall again. You see a smirk pass over her features and you give her a questioning look. “What?”

“My father was a fool for letting you people stay. All that time spent building a sanctuary for the human race, and he destroys it because of the most human thing of all...love.” She shakes her head before she smirks again, “I mean, who can blame him? I am awesome. It's just…”

She trails off, looking at you and Bellamy, still pressed close together. “Well, one look at the two of you, and he should have known how this would end. Guess I'm just saying all this because I know so much about both of you now.”

You nod your head, giving her a sarcastic look. “Oh, you do, huh?”

She hums in agreement, looking between you and Bellamy again. “Take the three of you, for instance. Now that's a weird relationship, isn't it? First, the twins hate each other when they land on Earth, and then Bellamy wants to kill both of you just to save his own ass, even though it means the genocide of your own people on the Ark. Then you two shack up, and Bellamy and Clarke become besties, all of you bonding over the actual genocide at Mount Weather.”

She lifts her hand, pretending to push a fake lever, “Together.”

You roll your eyes as she continues on, “Bellamy locks her up, she locks you both up, he leaves you and Clarke on Earth, she leaves you both to die in the fighting pits. I mean, it's exhausting, frankly.”

You snort, “Tell me about it.”

Bellamy leans his head against the wall, turning his gaze away from her. “You're wrong about how this ends, by the way. First, we get you back into your mind drive, and then we'll use it for a peace deal with your father.”

“Your belief in yourself is cute. But unfortunately, putting aside about a thousand variables, chief among them Clarke's newfound evangelical, do better-ism, making it impossible for her to accept a peace deal with those awful body snatchers, all four of us are gonna die in this cave.”

Bellamy nods, convinced that this is not where your story ends. “Yeah, okay. We'll see.”

She turns to glare at him, “Okay, now your confidence is just pissing me off.”

Bellamy looks at her like he’s about to respond, but suddenly the energy in the room changes. Seconds later you can hear the sound of approaching voices, and all three of you stand, looking towards the entrance to the cave. Asher comes in first, leading the rest, and he points his sword at you, commanding, “Gag the prisoners.”

He yells into the cave, for the others hidden deep inside, “Everybody up! The Sanctum riders are coming!”

You and Bellamy exchange a look as a few of the guards walk over to you, ready to gag you. They head to Josephine first, grabbing her harshly to hold her still, but she fights against them, yelling, “Get away from me!”

One of the men hits her hard and she falls to the ground. When they pull her back to her feet, a small line of black blood drips from her mouth, giving her status away. You whisper, “Shit.”

Chaos erupts after that, and the blonde woman starts to yell, “She's got the blood! She's got the blood!”

Asher comes over and looks at Josephine, eyeing the blood dripping from her mouth. “Put her on her knees.”

You know what’s gonna happen next, because they did the same thing to you hours ago. You look at Bellamy in alarm before turning and yelling, “Leave her alone!”

They force her to her knees and lift her hair, revealing the short scar on the back of her neck. Your stomach drops as they announce to the group, “She's a Prime! Unchain her, put her there.”

Asher motions to a flat rock nearby, and they unchain Josephine and drag her over to it, ignoring your begging, “Don't do this, please!”

Bellamy adds, “The drive in her head, it's Josephine!”

The name seems to make things worse, because the guard at Josephine’s back shoves her forcefully down, pressing her face into the rock. She mutters, “Not helping.”

“Think! As long as she's alive, you have leverage over Russell!”

Asher looks at Bellamy, his expression neutral, clearly not swayed by the thought of leverage. “This is not a negotiation, it's a war. The answer is Death to Primes!”

You and Bellamy watch in horror as he lifts his sword, fully intending to bring it down and chop off your twin's head, killing her once and for all. You rack your brain trying to think of anything to save her, and as you watch the sword start to lower, Josephine yells out, “Wait!”

The sword freezes in midair, and she exclaims, “Gabriel loves her. Is this what he would want?”

Her? The word hits you like a freight train, and you look at the blonde on the rock with a smile, hoping that the hunch you have is correct. You watch as she turns and kicks the leg of the man holding her in place, breaking it in half. He cries out in pain and releases her, giving her just enough time to dodge the sword that comes down onto the rock, missing her head by inches. She uses Asher’s surprise to grab him and swing him towards the rock, slamming his head into it and dropping him to the ground. Then she takes his sword and kills the man that is running to meet her, leaving only the blonde woman that you first met in Sanctum. But she makes quick work of her too, slicing her throat with the sword, stepping around the fallen body to look at you and Bellamy.

You look at her with a smile of realization, recognizing your twin anywhere. “Clarke?”

She smiles at you, “La lune.”

She bends down and grabs a set of keys as Bellamy looks at her in shock, “She gave you control?”

“It was either that or get her head cut off.”

She runs towards you, fumbling with the ring of keys, trying to find the one that fits your restraints. Deeper in the cave, the other Children of Gabriel have been alerted to your attempts at freedom, and you all look towards the sound of the approaching voices, watching shadows as they bounce off the wall, running closer. “I heard something! This way.”

You close your hands over Clarke’s, stilling her movements, “We don't have time, you have to run!”

“No!” She shakes her head hard, her expression pulling into one of desperation. “I'm not leaving you.”

“You have to! We’re running out of time. Go find Gabriel, we’ll come find you.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but the approaching voices continue to grow louder, and she knows you're right. She slips the keys into your hand, before wrapping one hand around yours and reaching out to wrap one hand around Bellamy’s. “Congratulations. I love you both.”

You smile at her briefly, the expression dropping when the voices are right around the corner, “Go! Now!”

She nods and gives you one last look before turning and running away, straight out of the cave and into the woods. Seconds later a group of people runs past you, heading outside as Asher yells at them, “It's Josephine Prime. Kill her before she gets to the rise. Do not let them get her back to Sanctum! Go!”

They all file out of the cave, leaving their injured leader behind, and you turn to Bellamy, who is looking at you with worry. “What now?”

“Now,” you open your palm, letting the handcuff keys hang down into view, giving him a mischievous grin as you do, “We get the hell out of here.”

He grins back at you, ready to raise hell with his fiance, ready to escape this cave and make things right.

Ready to show the Primes, and the Children of Gabriel, that they picked the wrong group of people to mess with.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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that-scouse-wizard · 3 years

Text

Hphm profile: Amelia Booth

Just to clarify some things:

-This exists in David’s (Jacob’s brother) AU, so to reiterate: Merula isn’t the mole, the girl version of Rowan is David’s best friend and only Orion from the Quidditch characters is in Hufflepuff.

-Some more things:

-Amelia is two years behind David, starting her first year when David is in third year.

-Her ‘Rowan’ is the boy version and is called Alder in this AU.

Lastly, I hope you guys enjoy!

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General Information

Full name: Amelia Margaret Booth

Nicknames: Amy (usually by friends and family).

Gender: Female

Age: 11-18 (1986 - 1993)

DOB: 22/01/1975

Species: Human

Blood status: Muggleborn

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Neutral Good

Ethnicity: White-British

Nationality: English

Residence: Lancaster (During her Hogwarts years and a brief time afterwards).

Edinburgh (After opening an apothecary there as a side business).

Myers Briggs Personality type: ISFJ, the Defender

Character Summary: Quiet and hardworking, muggleborn Amelia Booth initially finds the wizarding world intimidating. With the right guidance though, she can become a great source of knowledge should one require advice on Potions, Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures. A love of gymnastics and cycling made her the perfect candidate for a keeper on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Personality

Calm: It usually takes a lot to get a rise out of Amelia, there was however one instance when she snapped at Jacob in year 6.

Competitive: David’s competitive streak rubbed off on her once she became a part of the Quidditch scene. Though like him, tries to keep it to a healthy degree.

Hard-working: Despite being intimidated by the wizarding world at first, Amelia persevered in her studies at Hogwarts. Allowing her to become a well-respected member of the Hippogriff club for her expertise in Potions, COMC and Herbology.

Insecure: While she does appear to not care, she’s always worried if people are staring at her scars. She even briefly developed an insecurity around people in her year wanting to get close to her just to hang around with David (who keep in mind was considered a ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ as well as a relatively popular Quidditch player). Other ways her insecurities can manifest are as jealousy and pettiness.

Loyal: Amelia’s family and friends mean the world to her, she’d do anything for them.

Quiet: Amelia tends to keep her head down, preferring to study in silent contemplation.

Witty: Though she normally doesn’t joke about, there are certain occasions where Amelia has an incredible comeback

Appearance

Face claim: Maisie Williams

Voice Claim: Emma Atkins

Game appearance:

Physique: Athletic and lean, trained to be very flexible from a mix of her gymnastics and cycling.

Hair colour: Dark brown

Hair style:

Wears her mid-length and neat (1st-3rd year).

Grows her hair out a bit and keeps it in this wild mane look (4th-post graduation)

Wears it in a pony tail during gymnastics practice, potioneering or when tending to magical creatures.

Usually wears it like this for formal events

Eye colour: Grey (Blue in-game)

Height: 5′2′’

Weight: 75kg

Scarring: A diagonal scar on her left cheek, running from just next to her nose to the middle of the cheek, A vertical scar on the right side of her forehead. One on her right forearm. Finally, one that runs from her left shoulder to her chest.

Body modifications: Both ears have a triple lobe piercing, three simple gold bands in each lobe from third year onwards. Gets three small tattoos on the inside of her left forearm, the leaves of a chestnut (her wand wood), an alder (Alder Khanna) and a willow (David, her step-brother).

Inventory: Her wand, feathers from her hippogriff (Valkyrie), a fragment of crystal from her fire crab (Garnet), and a copy of the books Fantastic Beats and Where to Find them, and Advanced Potion Making.

Fashion: Prior to attending Hogwarts, Amelia used to wear smock dresses. Much like David, has a love of punk fashion when in the muggle world. Although thanks to Andre, grew an appreciation for wizarding world fashion and even Victorian fashion.

Background/History:

Pre-Hogwarts:

-Amelia had a fairly happy life, being quite well-off financially thanks to her mother’s accounting work and her father’s job as a plumber.

-Though she loved her older siblings, Alex and Sarah, the age gap of six and four years respectively meant some obvious differences in the closeness between the Booth siblings.

-Sadly, when Amelia was just five years old, she was involved in a car accident. A driver going too fast rear-ended her father’s car. While her father was killed on impact on account of not having his seatbelt on at the time, Amelia had hers on and was knocked unconscious. This event resulted in her scarring and subsequently, her ability to see Thestrals.

-The accident took a heavy toll on all of the Booths, Lyra though was determined to stay strong for her kids. Getting them involved in various activities in the hopes that it would get their confidence back, for Alex it was muay thai, for Sarah it was shooting and for Amelia, gymnastics.

-While Amelia regained some confidence in herself despite the scars, the accident caused her to develop motorphobia, she can’t stand the thought of being trapped in an automobile. However, she can still ride bicycles and broomsticks, at least then she has control over the vehicle in question.

Year 1 (1986)

-Amelia first comes to Hogwarts when the school is in the grip of the curse of the Vault of Fear.

-This also where she meets Alder Khanna, Rowan’s younger brother, who would become her best friend.

-When she first encounters a boggart, it turns into a Vauxhall Viva (the car her dad used to drive), blaring its headlights and revving its engine. Understandably, this troubles her.

-That event, combined with her insecurity over people wanting to befriend her just to get closer to David causes an argument between the two. This is where she gets closer to Rowan, who even though she’s the older sibling in her relationship, feels somewhat overshadowed by Alder.

-She reconciles with David thanks to the advice from Rowan and even an assurance by Alder he’s not her friend because she’s close to David.

Year 2 (1987)

-Open Quidditch positions are announced, for Hufflepuff’s team, it was keeper. Having expressed an interest in it, she sought out Orion.

-Orion asked her to balance on her broom, expecting her to fail a few times before she got it. However, thanks to her gymnastics training, she stood up on it first time no problem, something that visibly surprised Orion. It almost immediately made him consider her for a position on the team.

-She got the position and was noted for incorporating her gymnastics into her Quidditch manoeuvres, something that greatly helped in defending the goals from the opposing team.

-Because of this, she becomes quite popular in the school Quidditch scene.

-She comforts David when his friends Chauncy and Philip are killed by a Red Cap while under the sleepwalking curse. Hagrid introduces them both to the Thestral herd on the Creature Reserve.

-Admits to David that she doesn’t trust Rakepick.

Year 3 (1988)

-She selects COMC, Divination and Study of Ancient Runes as Electives. Though Divination isn’t what she hoped, she takes to COMC like a fish to water. While she had experience with certain creatures through her first two years on the reserve, she mentioned wanting to take COMC as soon as was feasibly possible.

-Is there to witness David emerge from the Portrait Vault, shocked to learn of Rakepick’s betrayal.

Year 4 (1989)

-Jacob comes back as the DADA teacher, Amelia confronts him about the pain he caused David last year. This culminates in an argument in which Amelia slaps him and screams, “He’s my brother, you selfish bastard!” Before she storms out the room.

-The biggest event for Amelia is when R comes after her, to truly make sure the condition that David must see a loved one die so that he may enter the Sunken Vault.

-However, Alder intercepts the attack meant for her, resulting in his death. The R assassin, Nisus Snyde leaves, believing the distraught reaction from David is enough to determine that Alder was suitable for the condition to be met.

-She’s distraught as well, blaming herself for being too weak to not help David or protect Alder, a fact that isn’t helped by Rowan also blaming her. This results in an argument between David and Rowan which climaxes with shouting “I wish I’d never met you David Willows!”. Amelia feels even worse after, believing herself to be the one who caused the argument.

-She insists on joining David for the expedition into the Sunken Vault and helps in bringing down its guardian.

-She becomes heartbroken when R murders Jacob but even more so when David leaves in the middle of the night, having snapped his wand.

-Moody tracks her down and talks to her as well as a few others, promising to bring David back and keeping them at Grimmauld Place.

-When David is brought back, it’s here that she alongside David and Rowan form the Circle of Khanna in remembrance of Alder.

Year 5 (1990)

-She assists in keeping David hidden in the Room of Requirement, knowing R is going to come after him. Using privileges she obtains as the 5th year prefect to wander the halls mostly unchallenged.

-She joins in the final battle against R, facing of against Nisus alongside Rowan. The battle ends when Valkyrie (Amelia’s hippogriff) grabs Nisus’s skull with enough force to fracture it, killing him.

-She’s able to complete her O.W.Ls and helps in winning the Quidditch cup for Hufflepuff, David appoints her captain seeing as he’ll be graduating.

Year 6 (1991)

-Takes Alchemy as an Elective.

-(Note may not actually happen but I find the thought of Amelia taking the Golden Trio under her wing to be an intriguing idea).

Year 7 (1992)

-Her status as a powerful Muggleborn makes her a prime target for the Basilisk, resulting in her petrification.

-Saved by the efforts of the Golden Trio, though forced to cram and take her N.E.W.Ts in the summer.

Post Hogwarts

-Gets in touch with a contact provided by Professor Kettleburn as a trainee magizoologist. Starting up an apothecary business on the side.

-She attends David and Merula’s wedding in 1994 as one of the bridesmaids.

-She joins the Order of the Phoenix in 1995, using her apothecary as a safe house and providing potions for the Order when they’re needed.

-In 1997, her apothecary is destroyed, luckily she’s able to escape and goes on the run from the death eaters.

-She assists in the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998, once again providing potions and healing magic to those who need it. That being said, she takes down a fair few death eaters herself.

-She continues to work as a magizoologist after the war, even managing to rebuild her apothecary.

Family:

Peter Booth (Father, deceased):

Face Claim: Ben Whishaw

A fun-loving family man, Peter worked as a plumber known for his warm attitude. He taught all of his kids how to ride a bike, one of the last things Amelia really remembers about her father.

Sadly, he was killed in a car accident when Amelia was just five years old.

Matthew Hall (step-father):

Face Claim: Ben Miller

A stern but fair CIMA-qualified accountant, Matthew first came into Amelia’s life when she was just seven. When she was eight, Matthew and Lyra officially got together, something that upset Amelia, thinking her mum was trying to replace her dad.

The two would reconcile, though it would take time with the assurance that he wasn’t there to replace Peter. It was he who recognised Amelia’s magical abilities when they manifested shortly before her eleventh birthday.

Lyra Booth (nee Robinson) (mother):

Face Claim: Ruth Wilson

Another CIMA-qualified accountant, Lyra and Amelia are very close. She was shocked when she learned her daughter had magical abilities. It was her demand to invite David over for Christmas in 1984. Something which ultimately proved comforting knowing there was someone looking out for her.

Alex Booth (brother):

Face Claim: Jody Latham

Her older brother, Alex is very much protective of his little sister. Her going off to a boarding school that was part of a world that he had no idea about was worrying. That being said, he begins to worry about her less when she and David try to explain Quidditch to him.

Sarah Booth (sister):

Face Claim: Emilia Clarke

Amelia’s sister, initially very highly strung about Amelia joining the wizarding world and being far more vocal about it than the other members of her family. Though she becomes endeared to David eventually and is even fascinated by stories told to her by Amelia about her magical creatures.

Jacob Hall (step-brother, deceased):

Face Claim: Tom Holland

Amelia was highly of suspicious of Jacob, largely for causing David pain. To the extent she slapped him when they got into an argument after Jacob said “David is my brother, so-” *SMACK* “HE’S MY BROTHER TOO, YOU SELFISH BASTARD!”

That being said, their relationship becomes more cordial over the course of the year and is one of those who mourns Jacob’s death.

David Willows (step-brother):

Face Claim: Dave Franco

Initially intimidated by her future step-brother, Amelia didn’t know what to make of him. After he gave her a demonstration of a Lumos spell, she started thinking he was cool.

Though there’s been the occasional rough patch, Amelia considers David a blood relative and would gladly protect him with her life knowing he’d do the same for her.

Allegiances:

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Affiliations: The Circle of Khanna, The Order of the Phoenix, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Professions: Trainee magizoologist (1993-95)

Potioneer (on the side) (1993-95 then 1998-present) (Full-time) (1995-1998)

Magizoologist (1998-Present)

Hogwarts Information:

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: P

Charms: A

DADA: A

Herbology: O

History of Magic: P

Potions: O

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Alchemy: E

COMC: O

Divination: A

Study of Ancient Runes: E

Quidditch:

Hufflepuff Keeper (1987-1991)

Hufflepuff Captain (1991)

Extra Curricular:

Hippogriff Club

Hufflepuff Prefect: 1991-93

Favourite Professors

Professor Sprout: Her head of house and the one who suggested she become a Prefect, Sprout was there to comfort her after Alder was killed. Amelia often assists in tending to the greenhouses.

Professor Snape: Despite Snape’s dour and very much intimidating presence, Amelia found potion making a subject she often practised in her free time, using Snape’s instructions of course. Though not quite as enthusiastic about him as Penny Haywood, Amelia will admit Snape can be a good teacher.

Professor Kettleburn: Though considered nuts by most staff and students, Amelia very much respects Kettleburn for still working with creatures even they’ve maimed him so many times. She’s even talked with him about her insecurities around her scars.

Least Favourite Professors:

Professor Binns: Like many Hogwarts students, Amelia would rather sleep through Binns’ lessons than study. Even the most fascinating of magical history go in one ear and out the other when Binns is teaching her.

Best canon friends:

-Barnaby Lee

-Liz Tuttle

-Charlie Weasley

-Penny Haywood

-Orion Amari

Love Interest:

I’ve not decided on a love interest for her or even if I’ll give her one. If you’d like to suggest your MC to be her love interest, let’s chat!

Best MC friends:

David Willows: David is Amelia’s step-brother, being introduced to each other in Christmas 1984. Becoming Quidditch teammates in Amelia’s second year, David would go on to appoint Amelia captain of the Quidditch team

Judith Harris (@judediangelo75): Judith is the beater on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. During a match, Amelia trusts Judith to keep the bludgers off her back. Judith sometimes supervises Amelia on the creature reserve and will even have races between her Swedish Short Snout and Judith's Ukrainian Ironbelly.

Lizzie Jameson (@lifeofkaze): Lizzie is one of the chasers on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and was over the moon when Amelia joined as the keeper. Outside of Quidditch practice, Amelia sometimes spends time at the magical creatures reserve with Lizzie and Charlie.

If you’d like your MC to be friends with her, let me know!

Rivals:

During Qudditch: Andre Egwu, Erika Rath, Skye Parkin, Charlie Weasley, Oliver Wood, Cato Reese (@catohphm) and Katriona Cassiopea (@kc-needs-coffee).

Otherwise she doesn’t really have any.

Enemies:

Death Eaters

Magical creature poachers

Magical Abilities

Wand: Chestnut, phoenix feather core, nine and a half inches, rigid.

Chestnut wands prefer witches and wizards who are skilled tamers of magical beasts, those who possess great gifts in Herbology, and those who are natural fliers.

This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike. Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won.

Animagus Form: N/A

Misc magical abilities:

Occlumency: David teaches her Occlumency when he can to keep her safe from certain threats, especially in relation to R and other magical effects such as the legilimency of the wampus cat.

Boggart form: Her dad’s Vauxhall Viva, blaring its headlights and revving its engine.

Riddikulus form: The car shrinks and turns into a wind-up toy playing a musical horn.

Amortentia (what do they smell like?): Damp earth and straw

Amortentia (What do they smell?): Lavender and mint.

Patronus: Abraxan.

Patronus memory: The feeling of freedom and wind in her hair as her dad let her bicycle go. She knows he would want his little princess to keep going forward.

Mirror of Erised: Her dad is back, telling her how proud he is of all of her accomplishments.

Specialised/ Favourite spells:

Bombarda (and Maxima): Taught to her by Rue, David’s mother, thanks to that teaching she’s learned to concentrate the spell so it’s much more powerful. Especially useful against creatures with magic-resistant hides such as dragons and trolls

Conjunctivitus curse: Not having the luxury of being a legilimens means Amelia has to get a bit crafty in her spellwork, especially when facing highly dangerous creatures. Blinding them is a guaranteed way to distract them.

Incendio: Useful for starting a campfire on her expeditions as a magizoologist, it helps that it can be used as an offensive spell.

Protego: Always useful when blocking projectiles and other spell attacks.

Misc Information:

She has far more creatures on the reserve than David: A niffler (Glimmer), a porlock (Macha), an Abraxan (Emerald), a fairy (Pearl), a Bowtruckle (Twiggy), a hippogriff (Valkyrie), a Thestral (Skull), a Unicorn (Bismuth), a frost salamander (Sapphire), a salamander (Ruby), a Swedish Short Snout (Torak), a fire crab (Garnet), an Imp (Clanger) and a Quintaped (Angus).

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm oc #amelia booth

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lucywritesreid · 4 years

Text

With Heaven Above You - Part 2

Summary: In this chapter, Reid and Y/N are coming closer to uncovering who the unsub is.

Warnings: Just a bit of swearing!

Word Count: 2.6k (I was going to split this into two but ended up changing my mind!)

Notes: Thank you for the feedback on part one! I’m tagging @rexorangecouny @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @liaabsurd @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @101donuts

The next 24 hours or so flew by. You and Spencer had spent hours crafting the profile and accumulating evidence passed on by the rest of their teams whilst they investigated the murders. Hotch had accepted your revised profile and a comment about it being ‘especially good work’ had lifted both your spirits more than you cared to admit. By the evening, there had been no reports of any new missing persons, so you took the time to deliver the profile to various police departments and blue collar workers in the local area. The more people knew what to look out for, you hoped the more vigilant and safe people would be.

There was something powerful about delivering the profile together. On a couple of occasions a few male officers had directed questions specifically to Dr Reid. Spencer had sharply referred them to you and he stood watching you proudly as you answered. Despite his greater intelligence and experience within the FBI, he never took you for granted. He wanted people to see just how smart you were. Had the circumstances been happier, you probably would’ve wanted to go out and celebrate your partnership, or at the very least have a romantic evening indoors. But this case was unrelenting.

There had been a minor breakthrough. Garcia had been given permission from the phone companies each of the victims used to have unlimited access to their phones. Their phones had been brought into the office and she’d found out that each victim received a photograph of themselves from an unknown number in the hours before their disappearance. She was trying to find the source of the number, but it gave you all some hope that should you be taken – the unsub would try and track you down and photograph you first.

By the time you returned to Quantico, it was late, but you needed to work on the press release with Rossi and JJ. Spencer excused himself to go look through some files, and you spent the next few hours working through questions and specific trigger words you were going to use in order to taunt the unsub. “I think you’ve got this kiddo,” Rossi brought you in for a warm hug, “you’re gonna go out there and really wind up the bastard.”

It got to a point when you felt like you couldn’t stand up any longer. Tears stung your eyes as the battle to fight off a yawn was lost. Glancing down at your watch you saw that it was almost midnight. “I’m gonna go find the Dr, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You kissed both your colleagues on the cheek and grabbed your coat from your desk, anxious to get home and try and get some sleep before tomorrow.

It was no surprise how you found Spencer. He was sprawled out across a small office’s burgundy carpet, an array of open files and photographs positioned sporadically around him. You stood for a few seconds and watched him, always fascinated by his approach. He was feverishly reading through files, using his index finger to focus his eyes on the pages as he read through them all at lightning speed. Most people would believe that this workspace was chaotic and messy. But you could see Spencer’s organisation even from your viewpoint. He’d arranged the victims chronologically in his circle and had layered over police and ME reports in between each case file. He truly was brilliant. Had it have been a few hours earlier; you wouldn’t have interrupted. But you knew he needed to go home, probably more than you did. “C’mon Spence. Even someone as handsome as you needs their beauty sleep,” you commented, leaning against the door.

He didn’t look up but he knew you were there. “Five minutes, y/n?”

“M’kay squish,” a nickname you reserved for when there was nobody else around, “I’ll go warm the car up.”

Spencer was five minutes on the dot. He hurried into the passenger seat and clicked on his seatbelt, throwing his messenger bag on the backseat. You looked in the rear-view mirror and saw that the bag was overflowing and stuffed with files, no doubt all the ones he was staring at in the office. It took all your willpower not to mention it. You desperately wanted to tell him to forget it for tonight and have a relax, but that would be futile. Spencer was passionate about his job and that was one of the many reasons why you were in love with him. The radio played classical music all the way home, Spencer’s favourite radio station and certainly not yours. He made a couple of comments about various composers playing and facts about their lives. It made you relax to hear him talk about something that wasn’t the case.

When you arrived home, you were seeing spots from exhaustion. Too tired to cook anything, Spencer warmed up some leftover Chinese food whilst you jumped in the shower. You popped on an old episode of Doctor Who and sat in silence as you both ate. When the episode finished, you glanced across the sofa and saw Spencer with his head propped up by his hand and his empty bowl falling off his lap. As quietly as you could, you turned off the TV, reached out and took the bowl from his lap and set it down on the coffee table, hoping not to disturb him. But he was an awfully light sleeper and the slightest movement caused him to jolt awake. “Oh god sorry y/n I guess I fell asleep.” You scolded him for apologising, took his hand and walked into the bedroom. You were asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

The next morning was spent preparing for your press conference. You dressed quickly but made the effort to put on something slightly more revealing and spent the time straightening your usually messy up-in-a-bun hair. Spencer hovered in the doorway as you finished putting on your make up, hands in your pocket as he watched you. You sighed. “I think it’s the best way to try and bait this guy if I at least look worth kidnapping,” You watched him shudder behind you. “I know, y/n. And you look beautiful. I just don’t like the thought of him thinking that.”

On your way out, you made sure to grab the purple pendant necklace that Spencer had bought you on your birthday two years ago. You fumbled with it between your fingers as you sat in the car as your own little signal that you were going to be thinking about him all day.

The press conference went off without a hitch. Thanks to JJ, there was wide media coverage, with cameras and crew from all various TV and radio news outlets, as well as a few reporters who had vouched to have the story printed on their websites within the hour. If this guy had any sort of access to media, which your profile stated he did, he would most certainly be watching. “And just to reiterate, we’re looking for a man who is awkward with zero social skills. This man is impotent, unattractive and holds a menial job. He takes no pride in his appearance and we believe he is a complete loner. No family, no friends. You’ve probably overlooked this guy a thousand times. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing significant about him at all.” You stared right down into the camera as you delivered your last line. You knew that was the sucker punch. This guy was a total narcissist and completely fame hungry. You hoped that by saying he was a loner with no life he would be outraged enough to try and track you down. “We are also not answering to any nicknames. This man is too irrelevant to be given one. If you have any questions or believe you have seen this man, you can call our 24 hour tip line. You can ask for me personally. My name is Agent Y/N Y/L/N with the BAU. Thank you.”

As soon as you stepped down the phone lines started ringing. Local police and members of your team were all taking it in turns to answer the calls, writing down numbers, disregarding any hoaxes. Morgan cheered you up after ten minutes by claiming that someone was asking if you were free for dinner, but other than that there were no significant leads in the first few hours.

Spencer had asked Hotch if he could continue looking over the files and he had disappeared back into his quiet room. You considered going checking on him a few times, but then it was your turn to man the phones alongside Emily. An hour or so in, you turned to her and asked, “have you had anything worthwhile, Em? Do you think we’re gonna get this guy?”

“I think you did an excellent job before, y/n. I’m sure he’s seething. I was surprised though when he didn’t ring directly after the first few minutes.” You nodded back to her. That was the outcome that you had been hoping for, but it hadn’t materialised. “Say,” she then added, “what’s Reid so fixated on? Do you think he’s got any leads?”

“Honestly Em? I don’t have a clue.”

The day felt rather anti-climactic. You’d set yourself up, hoping for some sort of breakthrough, but as the evening wore on and the numbers of staff on site dwindled, you realised there wasn’t going to be any new developments tonight. Following the same routine from the day before, you found Spencer, and coaxed him out of his little investigation room so that he would come home. The rest of the evening was extremely ordinary. You went to bed together and fell asleep even quicker than the night before. If that was humanly possible.

When you awoke, it was early. A stream of light from the slightly open curtains had interrupted your sleep. “We really should’ve shut the curtains properly,” you yawned and stretched a hand out to where you expected your boyfriends warm chest to be. But his side of the bed was empty. You opened your eyes and turned to his side. It was perfectly made up and his pyjamas were folded nearly on top of the pillow. That was odd. You both were notoriously messy and known for not being particularly proactive in a morning. Perhaps he hadn’t slept. You wondered just how early he’d got out of bed.

When you finally managed to come around you checked your phone to see if he’d sent you anything. Aside from a few late night memes from Garcia, there was nothing. Still, Spencer had gone to work on his own plenty times before. He liked to let you sleep in when his insomnia was bothering him. He’d probably just used his metro card and wanted to make a start on the case. That gave you hope that maybe his incessant thinking had given him a eureka moment.

You rolled out of bed slowly and stretched to stand. It would’ve been nice to go back to sleep for a few hours, but you figured if Spencer was already at work it was likely the others were too. You threw on a plain black shirt and capri trousers and added one of Spencer’s fluffy cardigans to finish it off. You liked the way you could fit your thumbs through the holes in the sleeves, almost like he was holding your hand. As you walked into the kitchen you shot him a quick text ‘see you at work babe.’ You turned on the coffee machine and figured you’d use one of Spencer’s mugs rather than dirtying a new one. He always had a coffee before he left, no matter how much of a rush he was in. And he always left a mug on the counter. It was usually the one with penguins on you’d got him at the Christmas market.

But there was no mug there. That stumped you for a second or two. He always had his coffee before he left, no exceptions. Then again, this case was doing crazy things to all of you. Surely it wasn’t unusual for one day? You poured two coffees into metal flasks to take with you and made your way to the front door. You reached up to grab your key from the right hook but it was empty. Huh. That was weird too. You quickly scanned your eyes and saw your key was on the left. But your key was always on the right and Spencer’s on the left. Had he picked yours up by mistake and swapped them over before leaving? That didn’t really make sense.

You had to shrug this off. It was getting silly, this overthinking. Save your energy for the case you said to yourself. Just as you were about to unlock the door, you looked down at your ‘enter the upside down’ door mat. Normally it sat perfectly on a right angle to the edge of the door. But it was almost completely twisted to the left. How had that happened? Why was Spencer in such a rush that he forgot his coffee, almost took the wrong key and messed up the doormat?

The ride to work seemed long. You were anxious to see Spencer and have the butterflies in your stomach go away. Guilt set in as you realised you were the last one to arrive, even though it was only just after 8am. You went straight for JJ who was stood by your desk. “Morning JJ,” you mustered a smile.

She returned the smile but looked around you, “Did Spence not come in with you this morning?” You shook your head. Shit. Did that mean he wasn’t here yet? By the time you had got ready and drove here the metro would’ve brought him in by now. “Um no, I thought he was already here…” The panic started settling in again and you frantically looked around the bullpen. “Where is he?”

You excused yourself from JJ but she followed, obviously sensing how tense you were. You tried the meeting room, Garcia’s den, the little cubby room he’d been working with, even Hotch’s office. When you asked Derek if he’d go into the bathroom to look for him, he said, “Listen baby girl, if you want to get your kicks off with Reid in working hours, I’d suggest somewhere more romantic than the men’s bathroom…”

JJ gave him a look, “We can’t find Spencer actually, Derek. But I’m sure he’s just on his way, y/n. I wouldn’t worry about it. Have you heard from him yet?” She reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away. This wasn’t right. His oddly made up bed. The coffee cup. The keys. The doormat. It was all pointing to something, but you just didn’t know what.

Without hesitation you ran into Garcia’s room and startled her. “Penelope,” you said trying to choke back tears, “I-I need you to trace Spencer’s phone for me.”

She didn’t question you just from the look on her face. Instead she nodded and set to work. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was becoming shallower by the second. A sharp pain crept up into your chest and you balled your hand into a tight fist. He’s okay. He’s probably just gone somewhere to think. Or he’s late. That happens.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by Garcia. She spun round on her chair and the same worried look you had was staring back at you. “Y/n, h-his phone’s either switched off or died. I-I can’t locate him. I don’t know where he is.”

End of part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #dr reid x y/n

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lady-plantagenet · 3 years

Text

What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 3: GOOD Grief! (we finally have a good episode on our hands)

To all those of you keen enough to have come back for another segment of ‘what hasn’t already been said: TSP’, as opposed to have just been scrolling when you see this - welcome back! (Scrollers you too <3)

Drawing of Thomas More’s Son AKA who Margaret Pole at this point wants to be the step baby momma of ;).

To anyone who’s seeing this for the first time: what this is a list of observations, jokes, reactions and criticism which occur to me upon a rewatch. I wait every week until Saturday to do this so that I have had my fill of scrolling through the tag and aggregating what has already been said. I tried doing a whole spoof (here where I gave up 10% in) but tbh a) I don’t know the history well enough b) it’s more time consuming than I thought and c) this series is just not as funny or as crazy as TWQ, so it’s untenable. Having said that: This is not a hatepost. I’m not hatewatching this series and nitpicking on purpose but expressing my honest views and trying to find the good in it as well as the bad.

Without further ado...

First Scenes:

LMAO the way Wolsey suggests they break their alliance with Spain is freaking hilarious because the actor delivers the lines as if he were a high school girl making a personal attack by suggesting the prom change its theme to 70s disco to the chagrin of the peppy up-and-coming rival.

Also @ Henry VIII looking like the peppy up-and-comer’s bff and shy stan with that pencil bite and small smirk when Catherine loses her cool against Wolsey.

I’m sorry... who is Henry married to again?

Also what is Margaret Pole doing at the council meeting?? I’m not saying I don’t like it.

Margaret Pole warning against certain repetitive thinking creating madness :(((

Attempted Naked Twister:

Oh Catherine, what is with you and all the other STARZ protagonists and that weird politcky bedroom talk? Who actually finds this sexy?

‘Catherine you are unnatural’ ooof that line delivery was somehow haunting.

Was the whole ‘I can’t be rushed you are off-putting with your overpowering’ a callback to Arthur and Catherine? Apparently there’s another writer for this episode so I won’t put all subtly past them.

Scotland:

‘Shitey men’ asdkjashd

Look I’m tired of all this ‘my children won’t be safe’ line getting repeated. Look mate, murder of royal infants and children was not exactly a common occurence, even in cases of deposition. The Princes in the Tower are an exception to this but a very infamous case for that reason. Child murder was extremely taboo. In situations like this with an infant kid, no one is going to bother murdering the babies and taking their thrones, the lords will just vie for power and make themselves de facto rulers and oust the queen. It’s not a question of safety but a question of holding power. Stop giving all women characters perma mummy brains.

Maggie being all caring:

‘Barnaby’ *scoffs* ‘Such an English name’ - OH MAN 0_0 is Catherine mocking them for trying to adapt ? Like I know it’s meant to show her envy for Lina, but it’s coming out all messed up.

Our girl Maggie’s smile screams I’m beating your ass in chess.

Anyhow this is the least histrionic we’ve seen Catherine so far.

Chaplain vs Catherine:

I’m interested how Catherine will feel at Stafford’s execution given that I have noticed this show build up to a friendship between them.

Why is everyone laughing at the whole ‘will you delight us with new schemes’ line was not that funny?

LMAO at Thomas Boleyn’s attempted brown-nosing.

You know what? Ruairi is a decent actor. When he says ‘so you admit it? you lost the child because you tried to be a man?” the actor conveys Henry’s troubled mind, lowkey scare towards Catherine and bewilderment all in one. The way his eyes do not move but just widen emotionlessly also gives this sense that he is being manipulated (which I guess they are going for with Wolsey). Then the whole choir music in the background.. I don’t know.. I’m liking this, it’s creating a vibe of a king of haunted and increasingly paranoid Henry. I’m sure they are going for that, so good.

Ursula Pole and Mama:

Maggie Pole say ‘riches don’t keep you safe’ with tears in her eyes :’(. Please tell me how this is not her thinking on her parents and granddad Warwick and what befell them ;’(.

I find Ursula refreshing actually, don’t get those types of heroines often. But they are making her similar to a gold-digger, an exhalted marriage was first and foremost considered a thing of honour. Noblepeople wouldn’t speak in such mercenary terms regarding their marriages.

Post Mary Defiance:

I love the ‘horse’ nickname from Brandon n’awwww

Also just realised what made TWQ so atmospheric - that wierd ‘oooo’ sound effect in the background when a character was being paranoid or worrying. They are using it during Henry’s ‘How is it that I have no sons?’ and it is just... so effective.

Catherine calling them ordinary children... she just keeps striking me as more and more classist. Like ok, I know every royal was... but still, I thought she was meant to see Lina as a friend and equal despite her race and status. To add the race element, this kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Also it is so clear by the end when Catherine states how the king is upset with her, she expects Maggie to ask her about it.. but she doesn’t lmao.

Back to Scotland until Sexy boy fencing:

I love me this soft boi. Angus <3 <3

I like how they address that some men don’t really like killing and that violence isn’t inherent in a man’s nature.

Oh man, are we supposed to look at Lina’s house and deplore the impoverished conditions? It would go for at least 3,000,000 pounds in today’s property market?

Is Catherine being particularly classist again with ‘Why u not becoming a butcher Wolsey, ey?’.

Though I will admit the ‘but giving meat to the poor is also good’ was one of her only smart comebacks.

Just realised, Catherine’s pink dress pretty as it is, looks straight out of the 1570s... why?

Montage and After:

You guys are right, there is this weird longing between Henry and Wolsey lmao. It is actually insane.

So basically Catherine is officially depressed

OOOFF we have Stafford as regent instead of Catherine. (edit: I suppose it’s cause they go to France which they didn’t historically? Also if Stafford is at home then what is his son later doing in France, why would he be there without his father. This show didn’t think this through)

Meg Singing:

An impassionate speech is not too anachronistic. But despite the title of this post (what hasn’t been said) I will reiterate that 16th century and Medieval people’s problem wasn’t that they were ashamed of their grief and didn’t cry. In fact, crying was somewhat more socially acceptable then than it even is now! Even manly men like Arthur were written as crying in literature such as Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. Obviously you couldn’t go overboard, but in truth crying was indeed often too performative rather than hidden too much behind doors.

Pole and More UWUWU in France and after:

I LIKE THIS INTELLECTUAL FLIRTING

It’s nice to see a depiction of romantic feelings between mature and level-headed subjects.

God Mary Tudor is so beautiful in this scene jesus. and the music when she was being presented was also very beautiful.

Maggie Pole getting given ‘a modest income’ yeah... she was one of the wealthiest peers of her day.

Also Maggie’s lady cousin not lady aunt Frost!

‘shaking of the sheets’ lmaoooo

William Compton cracks the hell out of me. I love this guy. He is just so creepy and twisted yet super keen and friendly. ahaha He looks like a riot, I hope we see him more. lmao tiles.

Also this palace feels very anachronistic almost 18th century-ish.

I like the Louis and Mary sequence, it’s nice seeing him trying to make her feel less scared, but OMFG when he lay on that chair.. for one second I thought they were trying to kill him off already.

Scotland: ‘Love is an open doooooorrrrr’ + Last Scene:

I ship Meg and Douglas ahhhh this soft boi x strong woman match is everything Henry and Catherine could have been.

I wonder... why is Lina speaking in Spanish more than Catherine. hmmm Are they trying to foreshadow Lina’s eventual return home and how Catherine become a true englishwoman?

Conclusion:

7.5/10

I cannot in all fairness believe it. This was actually decent. I’ve given up on historical accuracy long ago so by this point I’m focusing more on how it stands as as drama. I mean, TWQ was also a flop when it came to grasping the complex issues of that era but why do I feel compelled to rewatch it every year? Because it had atmosphere when it came to acting, music, certain aesthetics (though the costumes let me down often). It felt adequately gothic and dark, yet bright and jewel-lish when it had to be, sometimes both at the same time. Some one-liners were also memorable etc...

So far TSP 2 did not have any of this. Everything felt way too off and anachronistic. But not even consistently anachronistic. The music was also often very meh (though I just noted the absence of the spanish stringy theme that kept playing in season 1 - I guess I understand why), the dialogue very clichéd (‘alright lads let’s throw in the words: king, crown, power, fight, battle + other buzzwords and we have ourselves Shakespeare’) and so on... but I saw a change in this episode and I couldn’t initially point out what it was.

Upon rewatch, I identified some of the improvements (noted above) but above all: The producer was different! Boy does it show. Unfortunately, I think she is only for this one episode which really sucks. Come back! There is more chemistry between the couples, less predictable interactions, pervy Compton, cinnamonroll Douglas, better music, more scenic shots (e.g Douglas and Margaret in church) e.t.c. I hope it will match the rest of the STARZ productions in getting better towards the end.

Look it’s no masterpiece. But I’ll give credit where it’s due because at least this time it didn’t leave me feeling wanting and unsatisfied (if that makes sense).

#the spanish princess #the spanish princess 2 #lady plantagenet's series reviews #catherine of aragon #henry viii #mary tudor queen of france #margaret tudor #charles brandon #margaret pole

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years

Text

Quick Thoughts on TRFTP Book 1 Chapter 17

• I'm...not even sure what's happening anymore or whether this team is trolling us for expecting better from them. This chapter was shit. As has been this book.

• If you don't want to see these posts, here are the tags to block: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• I spent three days doing literally anything else but replaying it coz the writing for this one was so poor from the get-go, focuses on anything but the important stuff when we're two chapters away from the finale and uses Maxwell to retcon two moments from last book that they'd already bungled up in the grossest way possible.

• Ngl they also made Maxwell sound like a self-centered jerk this chapter. The one time they actually made him the focus, they make him into a narcissistic individual who thinks that just because he's friends with all these influential people he gets creative liberty over personal stuff that happened to them, without even fucking consulting them on it. I'm sure the book reading was meant to be funny but there was so much cringe going on that I wound up thoroughly disliking him this chapter (sorry Maxwell stans). Like this was me the entire time:

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the HIMEME YouTube channel

Maxwell: The rash rec YouTube channel

• Title: Hot Off the Press

Alternative Title: High on All Existing Levels of Cringe.

• The first few dialogues obviously change slightly if you're married to Maxwell. He's a little more contrite about not telling the MC earlier about the book tour:

• My MC is as surprised as I am that we didn't go to Castelserraillian instead, since that place is a hotbed of art and culture (I'm also noticing that the writers have been avoiding mentioning Kiara's estate by name since this book began. It's always called "Kiara's estate" now). But no apparently it's because the Lythikos people have no taste, as we're soon about to find out.

• The MC can't stay too long, since the Last Apple Ball, which is supposed to be the final appearance a mother of the royal heir makes before they deliver, is coming soon.

• Maxwell promised the bookstore...that his friends - who are actual people he has written about in this book and who haven't read it yet - will do a live-reading alongside him...again, without consulting them. O boy. This is going to be fun.

•

I have three points to make about this one:

1. If this book wouldn't exist without any of us then why the hell is YOUR face on the cover of MY goddamned story?

2. LMAO @ Maxwell acting like Liam's only strength is his title when:

a. He's the only one among you all who has a job (not applicable for Hana since she doesn't have a paying job but still works her butt off more than the other two do)

b. Liam threw an entire human being over his fucking shoulder. Like if that's not "actual strength" I don't know what is.

• It's more fun to make Olivia guess when you reach her estate. She either guesses that you're having your baby, that Liam is declaring Lythikos the capital of Cordonia, Drake fell into a vat of whiskey or Hana wants her to lead a self-defence seminar for the noblewomen. Maxwell for some reason isn't even mentioned.

• In any case, we arrive at Olivia's keep/lodge, where she's busy fussing over us.

• I liked the fact that you could do a callback to our first Lythikos Ball in Book 1, mentioning "cold lobsterless bisque". And Olivia doesn't pretend to forget it either, reiterating that she enjoyed besting the MC at her first visit there.

• First Kiara, now Hana. Both ladies make sure Olivia doesn't go ahead with giving us gifts related to "self-defense" 😅

• She does, however, have a special gift in store, this time for our nursery. Paintings for the walls. The royal options mostly showcase golden crowns and a castle, while the rustic options display forest animals. You don't get a free option here, pretty much like you don't get one for the crib mobiles. I think there's one element left in the nursery - the soft toy (one of which is a lion).

• Maxwell then offers to have Olivia there for the reading as well, considering the book's popularity in Lythikos and the fact that she is their Duchess. Olivia tries to get out of it, telling us that she has "duchess things" to do.

• I love whatever little we get of Liam and Olivia's friendship in this series. When the writing actually bothers to acknowledge them as childhood pals it shines. Like the bit where Olivia tries to get out of the reading by citing "duchess things" and Liam grins and tells her that he "can always tell when [she's] lying". Or this little bit right here:

• The MC gets to ask about Liam's investigation on what happened to his mother, which he cites as 'ongoing'. Yknow, we would have had more time to investigate that if the writers didn't shoehorn so many chapters into the Texas section. I can understand a mystery spilling over to the next book, but the reason for that spillover being the writers spending too much time on irrelevant bullshit? Can't relate.

• Following this, Olivia agrees to come for the reading, tells the group which rooms are allowed to them and leaves, and the LI tells the MC about their plans to take her out on a final-date-before-childbirth to a resort in the mountains. This is supposed to be our last LI scene for this book.

• It's a short and fairly meh scene, mostly rehashing the LI parenting issues they currently have and filled with some of the same imbalances we spotted way back in Chapter 4 (the LI scene where the couple sneaked off from the ball where we were hosting Auvernal and Monterisso). It's on a smaller scale here, but the imbalances still exist.

• The scene has two sections, the helicopter scene and the resort scene. The helicopter sequence deals with (except in Drake's case) the LI and their worries over how good a spouse and parent they will be, and the resort sequence is mostly a sex scene with no lingerie of the MC's in sight because they felt too lazy to code a pregnant MC minus clothes. In Drake's case, the serious issues revolving around family get spoken about at the resort rather than the helicopter.

Liam: Is extremely protective, maybe even obsessively so. Discovering his mother was pregnant when she died plays a huge part in his worries about the MC and his child now, as does the fact that growing up without her was hard on him, and that's an experience he doesn't want their child to go through.

Hana: Comes with a sweet story about her mother. The helicopter sequence begins with their child having a "kick party" in the womb, and Hana singing a lullaby that her mother used to sing while they spent time on the piano. Hana speaks of this as being a bedtime routine that her mother made, and how nighttime was the only time of day when Lorelai would pay any attention to Hana. Hana wants to be more involved, more present for her child, essentially the mother Lorelai never truly was to her - while still maintaining that there were moments she was happy with Lorelai.

Maxwell: I honestly expected this scene to have Maxwell speak about Bartie Sr or his mother in some capacity...but they didn't even bother to go that route. Instead they show Maxwell initially overthinking and fretting in his care for the MC, before the MC calms him down by quizzing him over his childcare knowledge so he can see for himself just how prepared he is. Like the pregnancy announcement before it, this scene seems to have been the perfect place to come up with something poignant for Maxwell, except they didn't even bother.

Drake: The helicopter sequence is shorter, but features Drake suggesting to the MC that they could "camp in the mountains". However, his resort scene post sex is the more detailed one, and tackles two issues: his need to be constantly tough and protective, and his memories of his father. In the first the MC tells him it's okay if he's not tough all the time, and he reiterates that especially with the MC and their child he feels like he needs to be...and he speaks about how his father - amazing though he was - often had to toe a thin line between his job (guarding the royal family) and his family (he mentions Jackson guarding Constantine, Liam and Regina...which means that he was around when Constantine had his third marriage as well??).

It's not AS bad as the Chapter 4 "sneaking away" scene during the ball in Valtoria...but as you can see, the same problem still exists. They're trying not to be too obvious about it, but the problem still exists.

• Okay so now it's time for this book reading...and Bastien is our driver and our security detail today. O boy.

• Maxwell is nervous, but the group (specifically Hana) reassure him that the crowd can't be too large considering the venue is a bookstore. Turns out...they're wrong. There's hundreds.

• Everyone except Olivia got nicknames (Liam the Benevolent, Hana the Just, Maxwell the Glorious, Drake the Bold). We get to choose ours (Unstoppable, Magnificent, Sexy). In addition, Drake has become a meme, considering people are holding up "THINGS ARE GREAT" signs close to 8-9 months after he was quoted on that (the ultimate irony, that this quote gains popularity among the actual commoners who have to face tax problems, so very unlike Drake who lives griping and moaning in a fucking palace).

• (also didn't Drake read the book earlier. I recall he mentioned as much in Chapter 5. Why didn't he warn his other friends or mention how terribly written this story was?)

• The rest of it...is ridiculous. I mean sure this can be read as a joke, as funny, as entertaining, but even that is a bit of a stretch and sounds more like we're making excuses for Maxwell's writing of his own friends.

• So the reading itself is divided into sections where the group takes turns to read the bits they were a part of, and where Maxwell aggressively rewrote what they said and did without once bothering to consult them. This includes very personal stuff, and he had no way of knowing if they would like the revisions he made. Like this is something I would expect of a trashy, money-grabbing biographer, not someone who is supposed to be a close friend of these people.

• Olivia hasn't read this book yet and she has no qualms saying that to people, which is kinda cool. I'm guessing Lythikos people normally don't like reading.

• Maxwell begins with the masquerade ball:

Yeah dude you knew I was in over my head yet didn't bother to guide me properly all of the social season. Hana Lee had to save your ass a couple times. The other LIs were running around doing your goddamn job. That you will not mention in this fancy-schmancy book of yours!

• In this revised version of the Masque, Drake thirsts over the MC immediately (damn, Lady MC cleans up good) and Hana is made to sound like a pompous ass (at last, someone who can match my beauty) and Liam is, well, ridiculous. Revised Liam name-drops House Beaumont and Maxwell when complimenting the MC. None of the LIs are very happy with this book as they proceed reading, and the MC can choose to either agree and they plan to have some words with him later (which will never happen) or pretend it's okay.

I don't mind the revision in this particular scene really. Like the masque itself and Liam's turning down of Madeleine later are not that serious, so exploring it lightheartedly is okay. It's when he gives the same treatment to serious shit that happened to his friends that bothers me.

• The next section to be read is Liam dumping "Madeleine the Mean" (LMAO). Nothing much really.

• The best part is of course the LIs repeating their marriage proposals from memory:

This right here is probably the reason why that book sold at all. Or possibly because Cordonians don't have a lot of good taste in books. Who knows.

• The other best part is the MC refusing to give the assassins proper "assassin noises" during her reading.

• So...up until now you've gotten only tiny glimpses of how self-centered Maxwell's book is. It has his goddamn face on the cover. This guy gave the actual protagonist's origin story nothing more than a page while dedicating an entire chapter to a "playlist" for saving the kingdom. But this...this is on another level. He has Liam name-drop House Beaumont and himself during the Masque. In Drake's playthrough he has Drake worry only about him. During Drake's duel he has both Drake and Liam say this shit:

...did Barthelemy Beaumont ghostwrite this book. Coz he sounds more like Bartie Sr here than he does the old Maxwell. The old Maxwell was often clueless but not really THIS obnoxiously self-centered!

• Like first of all, Drake was doing that duel for himself? He did it because Neville was constantly insulting him? This had very little to do with the MC (unless she was marrying Drake) and definitely nothing to do with Maxwell yet somehow his book is written as if he is the be-all and end-all of this group?

• Also, bringing the MC to Cordonia as a suitor because Liam had feelings for her was perhaps the only thing that indicates Maxwell even considers Liam a good friend? (and even then his House needing to sponsor someone was a big factor too) Liam barely features as a "BFF" otherwise, Maxwell keeps placing Drake in that role more?? I heard Liam speak more about Maxwell (and in terms that acknowledge his unique gifts too, like the hotel room scene in Shanghai and the scene where he talks about his friends before the proposal - both are in Book 2).

Like Maxwell doesn't even once worry or ask after Liam once the MC turns him down for Maxwell in his playthrough (not even when he overhears Madeleine baiting Liam in his playthrough. Even then there's no reaction) and just in this chapter he apparently found no other strength in Liam besides the man's title...and somehow I'm supposed to suddenly believe that Maxwell had trouble choosing between the two of them as BFFs, which got resolved over fake dialogues??

• Then of course comes the worst part of this whole trainwreck:

I'm pretty certain a lot of people will excuse this as Maxwell rewriting these events out of kindness...but the truth is, both of these things are extremely personal, in some ways painful experiences for both Liam and Hana, and Maxwell shouldn't have been assuming what they would be comfortable with without even speaking to them first. He's lucky the two took it as positively as they did, but they shouldn't have been required to.

• What really stings about the use of these two sequences is that these were exactly both things the writers themselves never bothered to explore properly. The Lorelai confrontational was the weakest possible end to her arc...and having Maxwell shoehorn Drake and Liam into this moment in his book doesn't exactly make that any better, PB. And then...to have Maxwell put words in Constantine's mouth when he probably knows jackshit about the man? For something the writers never allowed Liam himself to talk much about? Fuck off.

• Also, I notice that Drake's duel is a default passage for the reading, but you're made to choose between Liam's and Hana's important crisis points. And Maxwell doesn't even have one obviously because TRR Book 3 spent too much time on BertVannah. Plus he doesn't deserve his own passage if he's so busy inserting himself in everyone else's story.

• Olivia's passage about defeating Anton is also a default passage, and perhaps the only thing written accurately in that entire trashfire.

• I will happily never want to hear about this book again, and I would rather Maxwell never wrote another book again either.

• There is a diamond option that features a Q&A, which Maxwell didn't prepare for (obviously). If we convince him, these are the questions the public will ask:

- Is the MC comfortable being Olivia's sidekick. The MC has options ranging from gushing about her, to dubbing them both equals, to calling Olivia her sidekick - and in all three cases she cuts off your mic 😂

- For Olivia, little Valerie asks what she should do to become like our resident Scarlet Duchess. Suffice to say Olivia's answers are...concerning to the girl's mother 😅

- For the MC, Cordonian Woman asks how she got to courage to escape Anton. The MC can either mention she had Olivia with her, mention the LI or take all the credit.

- The next question is to Maxwell, about a possible sequel for the book. This is when the writers of TRH have to admit how full of shit their book is: uh, let's see. There was a honeymoon. We went to a ranch for a long time. Er...baby shower?

- For the MC, if there is anything she would change about her wedding. (they didn't include "I deserved better lingerie earlier" as an option and that's a travesty).

- Peter Graves is now a Cordonian dude who is curious about how Olivia fell for Anton's trap, and she mentions his guard baiting her by mentioning that Liam was in trouble, so the book still wants Olivia to have her lingering feelings towards Liam. I can't imagine why the writers would keep drilling this point in if they're not going to do a damn thing about it.

- All in all, not exactly worth the money.

• Once we finish signing a few books, we're on our way back when we're nearly-trampled by the paparazzi.

• Samir of Them Magazine esp outs himself as an asshole and so does the dude in sunglasses.

• Ana de Luca is nowhere to be found here, and Donnie seems to be the only respectable journalist, asking the rest to give the MC some space. I'm guessing they're mostly making the distinction between "respectable, trustworthy press" (CBC and Trend), and tabloid press like Them and the other paps.

• Dude in sunglasses mentions that his source is paying triple rates for any photos of the MC...which is another in a huuuge pile of really suspicious paparazzi stuff that's been happening this chapter that EVERYONE has been too stupid to explore further so far.

• I can see why the ensuing car chase reminds people so much of Diana. The paparazzi don't give up chasing the MC, there's an overall sense of panic about this sequence and the crash does hark back a little to that devastating news. Except in this case, it's going to be a temporary scare, seeing as we are still in our pregnant sprite for the finale Apple Ball gown which I think means we won't be going into labour until that is over.

• @thefirstcourtesan also mentioned to me that the crash reminded her of an episode from Gossip Girl.

• What I think might happen is that the baby, MC and LIs may make it out of this fairly okay, but there will be widespread condemnation of the tabloid press and possibly laws implemented to limit this scale and level of access. Orrr everyone will simply glower and do nothing since the writers don't allow any of these people to possess any common sense anymore 🙄

• So possibly, there may be some focus on the safety of the mother and child, and on the fallout the press has to face as a result of this incident. We still have one last item (the toy) to feature in our nursery so I think that might happen this chapter too.

• 2 chapters until the finale, and Hana still hasn't gotten her own scenes. Neither flashback nor individual. Somehow they deemed it appropriate to give Olivia those by midpoint!

• Also, interesting how the one time Maxwell gets much attention in this book, they decide to do him badly. First they don't put any effort into his diamond scene, then they write him so. damn. badly. Does Maxwell have his flaws? Sure he does. But they did him so dirty this chapter and made him so ridiculously self-centered that it stopped becoming funny after a point, at least for me.

• This book has been such a load of nothing I can't even tell you. Like at least in the previous books threads would either begin to be tied up or they would give you a clear idea of what would be up next. TRH 1 is getting over in two weeks and the most important thing was dealt with only once and spoken of in an offhand manner only twice. At this rate there are all these threads that haven't even begun to be tied up. And sure, this stuff could get more in the forefront in Book 2...but it's been poorly written and poorly paced so far. That's what you get for forcing us all to play some version or other of the Drake route, unfortunately.

• I'll be off to Kerala until November, guys, so the last two chapters may not get a QT anytime soon (range is pretty awful there), and the same goes for TRM, unfortunately. If I'm able to, I'll try doing chapter reviews for TRM, but I'm not sure how that will pan out, or if I'll be able to catch up enough. I'll try.

• As for TRH...I honestly don't know. Writing for this one hasn't been a very pleasant experience, and I don't have high hopes at all for the next book in the series.

Perhaps by the time the second book or the holiday feature is out I might change my mind but for now...I don't know.

• Until November (or hopefully before that, if a miracle happens and I get good range in my parents' place) then, guys!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #king liam #hana lee #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis

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xanadontit · 4 years

Text

The full run down, for those so inclined.

MIL: Let’s just start here because sure. About .5 seconds after we walked in the door, she asked if Santa was bringing me a new car. Apparently E told her mine is kind of dying and I’ve been looking (Side note: I have asked him not to share stuff like this with her because then she fixates and will have opinions on how I’m spending MY money. Also plz don’t @ me, yes I own a car and will trade it in and get another one. Everyone hates car people until they need a ride!). By Santa she means if E is surprising me and I joked that Santa isn’t bringing me one, but I plan to test drive a few in January and hopefully pull the trigger soon; I also said something about it being my money because I’m a jerk and I hate that I make almost as much as E and she assumes everything I have is because he’s my benefactor. Then she launched into a story about how my FIL somehow led her to believe he was getting her a car for Christmas and then didn’t and then she cried when she realized he was messing with her and he thought it was funny. No idea why those crazy kids couldn’t make it work. Like, how do you even respond to something like this that happened well over 25 years ago?

While playing game and just kind of making polite conversation, MIL turns to me and says, “You didn’t have to stay at a hotel.” I was thrown because this came out of nowhere and said, “Well, we are and it’s fine!” cheerfully as she then launched into why it wasn’t OK and the plan she had laid out (which involved Niece 1 staying 30 minutes away at her boyfriend’s house - her plan was to kick her granddaughter out of her room/home so she could take her room and have E and me sleep in MIL’s room). I looked at E to jump in and he said, “We’re staying at a hotel. No one is giving up a room. It’s done.” No setting his mom straight that this wasn’t my evil plot or scheme. That’s when I got a “You hurt my feelings.”

MIL is very critical of her only sister who is an absolute train wreck, sure, but not terribly different from MIL - just more husbands. MIL said something about her sister always needing a man and declared that she has no desire to date and all she needs now are her children. I pointed out to E that means she’s relying on him and SIL to provide her emotional support because she’s alienated all of her friends when she was with her garbage ex. Have fun with that, guys!

While opening gifts she reiterated she doesn’t care what I think or if I am hurt, and she’ll do whatever she likes when it comes to her kids, even if that means I’m left out. I lost it and looked at my nieces and said, “Well, if I ever die mysteriously we know who did it.” MIL laughed. She also told me if I don’t want the perfume she gave me then SIL will take it. Uh, ok?

She likes the cop and thinks Niece 1 seems really happy. Ugh. Get better taste in men.

SIL: The stress of living with her mom is real and while I feel for her, I’m pissed that she just lets her walk around saying awful shit to her and her daughters and that her attitude toward me is “Suck it up.” There’s just zero desire to have an honest conversation and say “This is hurtful” and give MIL a chance to apologize or think about how her words affect people. It’s super fucked up. And E told me last night that when he called her to let her know we’d stay at a hotel her response was a “What did I do wrong?” So she’s turning into her mom. Good work.

Niece 1: Wasn’t quite as sulky as our last visit but Jesus she and Mashed Potatoes (my nickname for the cop) are so fucking loud. It’s just constant hollering and there’s never a sincere conversation. The best way I can describe it is like a Disney kids’ tv show where everyone is constantly speaking in sarcastic tones and trying to be funny but it isn’t. At all. It’s exhausting.

Mashed Potatoes: He shaved the mustache so he looks slightly less creepy but he’s a cop so I don’t care if he’s Chris Evans’ doppelganger: not a fan!

Niece 2: Jesus Christ with this one. I texted @amaraaaaaaaaaaa about the sin I committed of showing interest in her life which resulted in her storming off during Christmas Eve dinner. Apparently any talk of the future is stressing her out and I wasn’t supposed to ask about graduation, her thoughts on a credential program and/or master’s program, or mention the idea of her eventually moving out. MIL is visibly distressed Niece 2 isn’t seriously dating anyone and has encouraged her to settle with any guy who owns a house. This is her standard for a quality man: owns a house. Sure.

E: Swears up and down that he told his mom about the hotel and explained it was for everyone’s comfort. I told him I need him to explicitly tell his mom that he wants to stay at a hotel, too, and not leave room for her to speak to me in a shitty way. It’s unfair that I am painted as a villain because one of her children dared to grow up and doesn’t want to pretend he’s 8 and stay with mommy. He agrees she’s completely out of line and was feeling pretty done but that doesn’t help. I expect us to be a united front and a team. Sitting there while she’s obnoxious, then agreeing with me privately isn’t helpful.

Thanks to all of you for the support and snark - it’s nice to know someone somewhere out there likes me!

#marry an orphaned only child or stay single #families

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bluepulsebluepulse · 4 years

Note

For the "Give me a character and I will answer" thing. Bart Allen/Impulse/Kid Flash!

PLEASE NOTE: Everything said below is purely of my opinion. Please do not take offence to any of it. Don’t waste your time commenting on this to tell me that you disagree and think I should change my mind about x, y or z (it won’t work). Again, this is just my opinion, it shouldn’t have any affect on yours. I’m not asking or trying to change you opinions or perceptions of the character in question! You continue seeing/ perceiving this character however you like! After all, if we all see the character the same way (that is kind of boring). And you know what, I’ll just say it now. If the character in question is one you care about deeply, don’t read below the line! Simple as that! I don’t want any hate for my honesty.

CHARACTER: Bart Allen

Why I like them

LITERALLY EVERYTHING! BART ALLEN IS JUST AMAZING! HE IS SO COOL! Gosh I just, I could honestly write over a million good things about this amazing speedster.

Why I don’t

THERE AIN’T A SINGLE REASON I DON’T LIKE BART ALLEN. The closest thing I have ever come to feel that represented any unpleasant feelings in relation to Bart Allen, is the way some of the comic book artist’s draw him. He is a straight up babe and some of the artists get it so wrong. But that literally has NOTHING to do with Bart himself. Actually I thought of one more thing, but again, this has nothing to do with Bart. I kinda think Meloni should have just named him Bart, not Bartholomew. Speaking of crappy naming conventions, I hate that YJ gave him the title Kid Flash, he is Impulse! It takes away from his identity! Sorry, but he deserves to continue building on his Impulse identity.

Favourite episode

That’s a tough one since he is just the pure essence of all things good in this world… Probably the one where Bart and Jaime are in the El Paso desert. They are blowing up rocks and having the best of times. I’m terribly ashamed I can’t remember the name of the episode. I can literally remember every line of Bart Allen’s dialogue but I couldn’t tell you which episode any of it belonged to?

Favourite season

DEFINITELY Season 2 (not even a contest) - I hate Season 3 of Young Justice *sobs*. I’m legit worried Season 4 will also be a disappointment. I’m such an optimist y’all.

Favourite line

“Stick with me Blue, I’ll keep you from feeling the mode.” - Picking one physically hurt me, but this one…

Favourite outfit

I actually love both YJ versions. I feel like his Season 2 costume is MORE iconic though. It is much closer to the comic versions of Bart I have seen and loved. There are a few comic versions though which make me cringe.

OTP

LOL - just in case my blog doesn’t SCREAM it, BluePulse…

Brotp

I mean… Can Jaime be my answer for this too? Can’t they be bros and lovers (once they are both of age)? I mean look… If I have to pick one (that isn’t Jaime), it would likely be Cassie. I headcanon Bart being Cassie’s gbf tbh.

Headcanon

He is gay and I’m pretty sure this is basically canon in all our hearts anyway (the only time I’ve seen people say otherwise was in this BRUTAL reddit chat which I think she should be wiped from the internet personally). And YJ appears to be delivering on making Bart gay canonically anyway… just with the wrong people. GRANDON… OH HOW YOU HURT ME. I should stop watching the show lol, but I won’t, I need Bart Allen content in my life.

Unpopular opinion

OOF gonna receive some ALOT of hate for this one… I don’t believe Bart has ADHD or autism tbh. I don’t think ANY of the speedsters do. Of course it would SEEM that way to non-speedsters, and I totally get why people stan for it. I just think that the trait of being impulsive or having a seemingly infinite amount of energy to burn, doesn’t mean he has it. I do see why it makes him a candidate for representation though. I do think Bart however has PTSD from his time with the Reach and suffers nightmares because of it (sorry Bart). And I know in my heart he is gay lol. And I defs stan for him being VERY extra, and talking too much and loving to be loud (and he’s just so adorable like that). So I’m not saying I don’t think any representation should be attached to him, but there are certain ones I prefer for him and my perception of his character (based on the materials I have consumed). Another thing that bothers me - and you will see this across ALL characters I ever talk about; is when people try to attach too many representations to a single character. I think it’s kind of derivative and takes away from the individual elements when you cluster a character with ten different kinds of representation. But that’s just me. I don’t have a problem with representation (I belong to several different communities myself), and am fortunate enough to have a lot of unique and AMAZING friends who belong to some of the same categories as me, AS WELL AS different ones too. I hate shows that refuse to acknowledge anything other than the “standards”. I think the world is more colorful place because of these communities, no that was not an pride pun. And I will reiterate, this is just my opinion, it shouldn’t have any affect on yours. You continue seeing perceiving Bart however you like!

A wish

BLUEPULSE NEEDS TO BE MADE CANON! SOMEWHERE! I DON’T CARE IF IT’S IN YOUNG JUSTICE (ALTHO SH!T I’D STRAIGHT UP DIE IF JASON MARSDEN VOICED BART CONFESSING HIS LOVE TO JAIME IN HIS DREAMY VOICE AND ERIC LOPEZ RECIPROCATED IN HIS YUMMY VOICE) (oops did I just say that out aloud? should probs delete this later). I DON’T CARE IF IT’S IN THE COMICS. IT JUST NEEDS TO BE CANON SOMEWHERE. I AM FLEXIBLE DC.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Please do not harm Bart in anyway DC (i.e. getting shot in the kneecap by Deadshot or dying early from hyper-accelerated metabolism!!! LIKE WTF DC LEAVE HIM ALONE!). Also don’t make him straight, ugh! But most of all, DON’T LET HIM BE WITH ANYONE OTHER THAN JAIME REYES. NOT EDUARDO DORADO JR, NOT VALERIE PEREZ, NOT ROSE WILSON, NOT CASSIE SANDSMARK AND NOT ANYONE ELSE. All of those options make me so very sad.

5 words to best describe them

Impulsive, fast, funny, caring, Jaime-obsessed.

My nickname for them

I mean I don’t really have one and that gives me actual depression… Should I make one? Idk. I love Bart too much to risk picking something lame. I defs know Jaime would have some super cute nickname for him in Spanish. I really want to know what it is.

That is all folks! Thanks for the ask! :)

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