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#idk I haven't even watched the episode yet because
sonicprim3d · 6 months
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Thinking about the blogs I'm working on
Thinking about what's left to do with them...
Collect icons, create bios, and make tags for @theotherprim3d
Work on the solo Jax blog
Actually, decide on the muses, and subsequently create bios and collect icons, for the multimuse Hazbin-Helluva blog which will also be where I move my Alastor muse
And possibly make a FNaF mutlimuse too
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oh-meow-swirls · 1 year
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the one problem with yo-kai watch coming back is shadowside n forever friends needing to be dubbed for 4 to really make sense. maybe they'll announce 4 n then get to dubbing forever friends n dubbing + releasing shadowside? idk-
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tenpintsofsundrop · 8 months
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The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes
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Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
Summary:
While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can't live without each other.
Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.
Word Count: 8,200
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
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Full list of warnings and author's notes below.
Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven't watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there's no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it's not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to 'appeal' to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife' to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name'); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader's true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader's body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer's fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.
A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don't really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it's good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn't 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!
...
You thought it would be an easy day. 
Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 
There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 
“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 
He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 
“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 
“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 
“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 
“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 
“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 
“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 
Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 
She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.
“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 
He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 
“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 
You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 
Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 
“Rings?” She questioned. 
“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 
“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 
“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 
Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 
“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 
You nodded at this. 
You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 
But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 
Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 
Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 
When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 
“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 
“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 
Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 
… 
“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 
“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 
He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 
You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 
“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 
“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 
“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 
“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 
That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 
Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 
“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 
Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 
“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 
You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 
“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 
Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 
“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 
Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 
Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 
You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 
You were just playing the part. 
Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 
He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 
“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 
“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 
“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 
“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 
“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 
“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 
Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 
“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 
He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 
“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 
He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 
Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 
“Has it been a godly union?” 
He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 
“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 
“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 
Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 
It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 
But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 
“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 
“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 
“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 
He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 
… 
A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 
Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 
You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 
When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 
Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 
Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 
And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.
Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 
You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 
There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 
When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 
“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 
Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 
You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 
“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 
Which ‘one’? 
So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 
“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 
You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 
“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 
“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 
Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 
“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 
There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 
Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 
“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 
He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 
Spencer didn’t take the bait. 
“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 
Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 
This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 
“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 
“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 
You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 
“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 
Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 
“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 
“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 
“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 
You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.
“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 
You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.
Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 
“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 
He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 
“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 
Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 
“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 
Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 
The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 
Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 
He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 
“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 
“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 
When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 
You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 
Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 
“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 
He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 
You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 
You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 
He would protect you because you belonged to him. 
In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 
This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 
When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 
“Thank you.” You said quietly. 
It was twofold:
Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 
Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 
… 
After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 
You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 
“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 
“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 
“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 
You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 
You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 
(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 
“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 
“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 
Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 
“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 
“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 
Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 
“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 
You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 
His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 
And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 
“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 
You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 
This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 
But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 
Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)
“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 
You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 
Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 
And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 
When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 
“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 
“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 
His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 
Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 
Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 
“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 
“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 
“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 
There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 
“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 
You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 
“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 
Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 
“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 
Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 
“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 
He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 
“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 
Of course. 
You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.
“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 
Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 
You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 
Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 
You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 
… 
Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 
The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 
Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 
“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 
It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 
“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 
Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 
“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 
Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 
He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 
“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 
You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 
Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 
“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 
You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 
“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 
You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 
“Come on.” Christopher grunted. 
Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 
… 
Your plan worked flawlessly. 
Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 
“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 
“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 
“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 
“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 
“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 
You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 
Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 
Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 
When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 
You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 
It was the church. 
“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 
You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 
“L/N!” 
Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 
“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 
He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 
“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 
“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 
You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 
“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 
Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 
“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 
He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 
“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 
You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 
He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 
Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 
“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 
His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 
“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 
You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 
It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 
And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 
You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 
Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 
“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 
Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 
On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 
When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 
Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 
A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.
...
A/N: okay, I do have to admit, the ending kind of sucks imo (like the last few paragraphs) because I highly resisted the urge to end this with 'baby making' smut where y/n is like if 'you want kids for real, then we can have kids', and then Spencer just goes nuts. because I did like the more cheesy/romantic love confession ending, and I was getting way too tired to write smut for this. idk if I should do that 'x amount of reblogs for part 2' thing or if I'm just happy with this being a standalone oneshot?? idk. if people ask for a part 2, then I will set a reblog goal for it. and I will work on a part 2 for it after Lesson Two is posted.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months
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Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson
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Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader
Summary:
The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.
You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.
Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.
Word Count: 2,900
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.
A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!
...
Stress. 
There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them. 
Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason. 
(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.) 
Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality. 
And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary. 
All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability. 
And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill. 
You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh. 
You always kept him sane. 
And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you. 
Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice. 
He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older. 
So he waited. 
And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way. 
He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease? 
It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight. 
He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too. 
When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that. 
That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time. 
He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help. 
He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing. 
But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father. 
Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life. 
As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you. 
Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility. 
When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time. 
Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time. 
You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time. 
It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you. 
Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time. 
He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed. 
When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care. 
He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs. 
The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them. 
Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state. 
The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him. 
Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending. 
“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw. 
You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead. 
“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.” 
You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect. 
Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway. 
“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued. 
At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie. 
Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to. 
“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh. 
Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes. 
“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you. 
Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart. 
You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone. 
“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.” 
Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale. 
“Have we?” You argued gently. 
Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you. 
You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you. 
Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words. 
“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.” 
This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence. 
“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility. 
Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire. 
He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all. 
The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind. 
But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of. 
And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others. 
Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos. 
And so, he gently planted his lips on yours. 
It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom. 
His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it. 
It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life. 
When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin. 
Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson? 
Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak. 
“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.” 
“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse. 
But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. 
Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching. 
“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it. 
“Yeah?” Dick replied. 
“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news. 
“What?” Dick gaped. 
There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind. 
...
If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.
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vulto-cor-de-rosa · 22 days
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All the Doctors that I've watched and if I would feel safe traveling with them or not
Nine
Absolutely he's my favorite
Doctor Doc Martins and I would get along extremely well
We would travel and have a blast
He would look out for me and be concerned for my safety
Treats well all of his companions (Rose, Mickey (yes he's a companion to me) and Jack) so would tread me well too
The only doctor that has a 0% companion mortality rate
9/10 would probably still die but wouldn't be his fault
Ten
Fuck no
I love him but I don't feel safe with that man
Series 2 he only cares for one person and that is Rose Tyler
Would immediately die because he's too preoccupied making heart eyes at her to even learn my name
Series 3 he's too heart broken
You've seen how he treated Martha and Jack I would be dead in my first episode and he would still not know my name
Series 4 maybe but I wouldn't put my money on making out of it alive
Would learn my name before my death tho
None of his companions ended up dead but one of them is in another dimension, three of them are soldiers (one was studying to become a doctor (bla bla he turned someone who was meant to save lives to someone that takes them bla bla)) and another has no memories
4/10 but only because he's pretty
Eleven
Absolutely not
The amount of times this guy let Rory die or almost die? Too many to count
My boy Rory almost dies in every episode the only thing keeping him going is his wife's love for him
And unfortunately I don't have a wife
Left Amy to wait for 12 years asshole move
Do you feel safe? I don't feel safe
Admittedly, until now, he's the doctor with the smallest body count but knowing what I heard around that's going to change
Makes too many bad decisions and is very absentminded
Haven't finished his run yet so idk what happens to Amy and Rory but I hope they both make it out live with the smallest amount of trauma possible
3/10 I feel like he would forget me and end up with me dead I'm too Rory coded and, as stated before, I don't have an Amy to keep me alive
All of this is in good fun I don't mean to offend anyone. At the end of they day they're all my babygirls and I like them very much. I'll probably make a new one when I finish eleven's run :}
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jewishcissiekj · 3 months
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hi let's talk about her
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Honestly I have so much to say about her. so much. so here's some of it
-Asajj (NOT VENTRESS THAT'S HER LAST NAME ISTG PEOPLE JUST HATE USING HER ACTUAL NAME AND IDK WHY I GUESS IT'S A COOL NAME BUT ASAJJ IS ALSO A COOL NAME AND)
-Asajj was last seen in canon in the Dark Disciple novel. Where she died. I would never recommend that book to anyone so if you haven't read it yet please don't. In short, after becoming a Bounty Hunter in The Clone Wars she grew out her hair, got a cool yellow Lightsaber and for some reason teamed up with Quinlan Vos to try and kill Dooku. They didn't manage to do it. And Asajj died (was fridged) trying to protect Quinlan. The Bad Batch will not contradict that, as was said by the creators. So this is just a summary for anyone who hasn't read it because I wholeheartedly believe that book is bad
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-I have not watched a single Bad Batch episode in my life. As a disclaimer. I started the first one, watched their TCW arc and saw memes screenshots clips and spoilers but I do not know this show. I will watch it now that Asajj's there tho
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-She does not have the same outfit anymore! It's a change, and we haven't gotten a clear look at her new design so idk how to judge it yet. Might be to look less recognizable, but it has a very different vibe than any of her prior outfits. There's a leftover shoulder pad and probably some other stuff from her last design but I feel like they kinda clash with the new one and tbb's design language in general. The Bounty Hunter look has a very TCWish feel to it and this one is a sharp turn in another, much more casual direction. I'm not inherently against it but I guess we'll see how it looks in action soon
-In my opinion the hair looks like shit. I don't think she should have hair ever. I don't understand why she can't be bald. Why is she bald when she's evil and has hair when she's a padawan (good) and when she is "redeemed"? guess we'll never know. It's a leftover from the cancelled Dark Disciple TCW arc design (and the Dark Disciple cover and promotional material ofc) and it's bad if you ask me but to each their own and if you like it good for you
-Her Lightsaber!!!!! Same case as the hair in terms of irl development but I like it so much better. The yellow just fits her character and it's pretty. Would love for her to find another one and get back to dual-wielding (I know that won't happen)
-The bag and pouches make me so happy as a design element do you think she carries a (tooka) cat in there
-Now, visually she looks great and the animation style is smoother and nicer than TCW (as is the quality), but what about the direction the character's going in? I didn't like her being dead before, but I felt like it was somewhat better than her being shoved into being a cameo character in new content. If you can't touch her after a certain point, you also can't mess her up. But I do wonder where they're going with her. A few questions:
-Asajj in canon is a directionless character. Also, a partially nonsensical and inconsistent character in her choices and storylines. I've talked about it a lot but in short she just feels messy. What's her purpose in life? Her motive? Her origin story doesn't really make sense, even. She's a Bounty Hunter, sure, but why? If all she wants is revenge on Dooku and maybe money (which was pretty much the case in Dark Disciple), what's she doing after the Empire? And more importantly, why?
-Obviously, the question I haven't asked yet because I don't like it: How the fuck is she alive? Nightsisters have a weird relationship with death but seriously, how?
-She's a Force User after the Rise of the Empire now, so what does he do about that? Is she founding The Path? Fucking around and finding out? Making a not-Jedi-not-Sith order with other force users she finds? Is the Empire after her? Do they know she's live?
-What about her girlfriend? Is Latts Razzi safe? Is she alright?
-Why is she in The Bad Batch show? Are we making her into a cameo character or is there a purpose? Why'd they bring her back? For fun? What is she doing after the show? Floating in dead space? Cameo-ing? Will we have a book?
-OK enough for tonight but if we see Quinlan Vos in the show I'll become violent (/neg). We probably will (he might just get mentioned idk).
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smuglilsomethin · 4 months
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Something I noticed while rewatching Assassination Classroom (analysis overthinking symbolism / headcanon thingy)
So I was rewatching the show because I'm taking notes for an animatic idea and I found a random detail
Karma still dresses like his old teacher.
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The teacher who we see in the episode 3 flashbacks acts all supportive (he said something like "No matter what, you were in the right" or "I'll stand by you no matter what" despite his "trouble with authority" or smth). And it made him look like Karma's trusted adult figure who would be on his side even when he got into trouble.
So idk, the matching clothes could have been a visual representation of Karma trusting the teacher and/or wanting to be like him?
But then he ends up sending Karma to E Class and we see the same teacher in a completely different light/turning on Karma, and there's the whole "this is the moment the teacher died to me" spiel (the visual with the teacher disintegrating into a skeleton still gets me every time asdfjkl) and now the audience understands why Karma's so excited to ice Koro Sensei (the whole "I've always wanted to kill a teacher" scene).
But he still dresses like this when we see him in his debut episode (I think the entire series but I haven't rewatched all of it yet) even after time has passed (the suspension) instead of him being given a different outfit.
So maybe it represents Karma still wanting an adult figure to look up to? Symbolism man, idk
It would make the "students don't die on my watch" scene after Koro Sensei successfully rescues Karma after his final assassination attempt even cooler, especially with how the lighting changes during that interaction to show Karma's change in mindset. He has a new teacher to look up to, one that he can actually rely on, seeing as he managed to save Karma's life while avoiding letting Karma assassinate him in the process...albeit this new trusted adult figure comes in the form of an assassination target.
I just really like this episode lol
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03/28/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; David Jenkins; Leslie Jones; Taika Waititi; Vico Ortiz; Samba Schutte; Kristian Nairn; Watch Parties; Trans Day of Visibility: Cool Pirates; Fan spotlight; LoveNotes; DailyDarby/Today's Taika
Hey lovelies! I'm taking your advice and not stressing too much if I can't get the recap out by end of day due to life stuff. So! That means if you don't see one from me, it doesn't mean it's not gonna happen, it means I probably fell asleep and I'll finish it up the next morning :)
=Cast & Crew Sightings =
== David Jenkins ==
Chaos dad popped into to show @bainecessitiesco some love for their amazing affirmation cards we've all seen circulating :) If you haven't seen them yet, feel free to check out Mik's Instagram
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== Samba Schutte ==
Samba's been a busy man today! Roaches Rascal's over on the Cameo discord server got another cameo from Samba! This one features some great impressions from Samba, but also a "legend" of how Rhys as Merstede got out of the water with that costume on.
= Cameo =
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"How Merstede Got Out of the Water"
Full Cameo
== BTS ==
On top of his cameos, Samba gave us yet another pile of BTS Videos! This time shouting out the background and stand in actors! As usual, Tumblr only allows me to upload 1 video per post, so here's the videos on various tumblr posts below:
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Video 1 - Spanish Jackie's
Video 2 - "How you hanging there?" feat Alex Sherman
Video 3 - Spanish Jackie's 2 - "Hey How you doin?"
Video 4 - Con O'Neill and His Middle Finger
Video 5 - Cursed Ship Background Actors
Video 6 - Republic of Pirates In The Evening
Video 7 - Goldie The Cow
Video 8 - Hot and Bothered Practice
Video 9 - Truck Full of Actors
Video 10 - The Red Flag Crew == Leslie Jones ==
Leslie's back at The Daily Show rocking it!
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== Taika Waititi ==
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New video on Rita's IG, see it here on tumblr on @fuckyeahworldoftaika's post
== Vico Ortiz ==
There's another episode of Date My Abuelita, First! Season 2, Episode 5 is out!
Source: Date My Abuelita, First Instagram / Website
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== Kristian Nairn ==
Kristian Nairn is joining the list of the crew going to the San Jose Galaxy Con August 16-18, 2024! For tickets and info visit: Galaxy Con Tickets
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= Dominic Burgess =
Jeffery Fettering is poking his head out again!! Can Dominic get any cooler, truly? Thank you JessieB for giving Dominic the inspiration to hit the high seas! Source: @edteachseawitch's Twitter
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= Event Calendar =
For Friday It's #PhoneInFriday in the UK!
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== Watch Parties ==
=== Boy ===
Sunday 31st, @tillychmo and @regg_official on Twitter will be hosing a 'Boy' Watch Party
Hashtags: #OurBoyMeansEgg
2 pm GMT
10 am EDT
7 am PDT
== Cool Pirates ==
First #CoolPirates for the celebration was Vico Ortiz! Feel free to visit the @saveofmdcrewmates tumblr to see the new ones each day!
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== Fan Spotlight ==
Tonight's cast card is Mama Teach! Thank you @melvisik for giving our lovely Simone Kessell some love!
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== Dead But Delicious ==
If you're near Alameda CA, there wil lbe a WWDITS Themed Variety Show going on at the Alameda Comedy Club on June 20th! 8 PM! Feel free to check them out! Learn more on their IG!
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== Kudoboards Reminder! =
REMINDER! KUDOBOARDS close on the 31st. 
Go send the cast and crew some love folks!
David Jenkins
Nathan Foad
Con O'Neill
Ruibo Qian
Leslie F*cking Jones!
Matthew Maher
Vico Ortiz
Samson Kayo
Alex "Ass Tonight" Sherman!
David Fane
Gypsy Taylor
Kristian "Wee John Wondays" Nairn!
Samba "BTS and Baking King" Schutte!
Fellow OFMD Fan Crew!
== Love Notes ==
Hey Lovelies! This is a bit of a silly love note today because I'm behind on everything, but I just wanted to give you some silly permissions (I dont have any real authority to give permission but this is a reminding you YOU have the authority!) to go out and do something out of the norm today.
I decided that I was going to have some ice cream after breakfast today. Why? Idk cause this weeks been crazy and ice cream sounded good.
Give yourself a treat today, whatever that happens to be for you-- going for a walk, eating ice cream, going to see that movie you have been holding off doing. Do something that makes you smile, you deserve it!
== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==
I think some of these may be repeats but they make me smile every time I see them so tonight's dance time!
Darby courtesy of @thunderwingdoomslayer
Taika courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset
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ge0rg1ewaa · 1 year
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"They set it up!" - Neymar jr
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A/n : this is so confusing and idk if it makes sense. I just wanted to post something, anything. hope u still enjoy it :)
[Third person pov]
The smell of freshly prepared pasta wafted through the corridors of the apartment. The atmosphere was soothing with a blanket on the couch & a favorite movie on the TV. The setting sun and its last rays were the only thing that could be seen through the window.
Today was Y/n's day off and she decided not to bother going out, to be honest, she wasn't in the mood either. Yesterday, she broke up with her boyfriend of a year and a half because she found out he was cheating on her. She didn't do anything all day. In the morning she went out to do the shopping, but since then she has been at her place, reading the unfinished book and finishing watching the last few episodes of the series she has been bingeing on lately.
After pouring herself a portion of the pasta, she headed to the sofa, taking her phone from the charger. The girl had not yet checked her social media, her phone flooded with messages from Instagram, Twitter and Messenger. There was nothing interesting in the internet world. There were no dramas at the moment, or at least Y/n hadn't run into them. One of the messages was from her boyfriend well ex now, Neymar jr, and read 'I'm really sorry. I promise you, I haven't done anything. You know I would never touch anyone else expect you. I love you. Baby please answer me. ' and stuff like that, but Y/n just blocked him. Less than a minute later, her phone rang. As soon as she saw that it was Neymar, she let him ring, but as soon as she realized that he was not going to give up so easily, she picked up the phone, but remained silent, letting him speak.
"Hi meu amor. I know you are there, but you are silent because you want me to speak, so I will speak and tell you everything. The other night after we won the game we went out for a treat but we got drunk and I don't even know how I got home. I swear to god I don't know the girl who was next to me. They set it up! We haven't done anything, I promise you. I know the pictures you saw don't do justice to my words, but I have a video where she is paid to lie next to me half naked. I'll send it to you so you can make sure too. Eu te amo muito. Eu nunca faria algo assim para te machucar. Você significa muito para mim. [ I love you so much. I would never do anything like that to hurt you. You mean so much to me.]" After he explained everything to her in one breath, Y/n unblocked him to send her the video. And he was right. The girl could be clearly seen haggling for the amount of money and eventually getting it, before taking off her dress and laying down next to the sleeping Neymar. But how did she get into his room?
"You can see for yourself what it's all about. I still don't know how she managed to get into my room and who helped her and why they took pictures, but at least I can rest assured that you know the truth." Neymar sighed, his red eyes filled with tears once again. He doesn't know how he let things get here. Only a day since the love of his life left him, but he doesn't know what is happening around him. At least now that Y/n had let him explain the ugly situation, he hoped she would return to his arms. He missed her, her touch, her kisses, her voice, her laugh, her presence in general. He was so deeply madly in love with her that he was ready to leave his family and end his career for her, and we all know how important family & football are to him.
He was just about to hang up the phone when her soft breaking voice called. "Ney, im so sorry. I should have let you explain earlier, but because of my stubborn head, I didn't and hurt both of us. I wish I could hug and kiss you. I miss you." Y/n said, her voice quiet but understandable. She knows that's not possible because of the miles that separate them every day.
" Se você descer e sair, seu desejo pode se tornar realidade. Se você descer e sair, seu desejo pode se tornar realidade. " [If you go downstairs and go outside, your wish may come true.]" Neymar replied with a small smile that could be heard in his voice.
He was here. He was finally here. Her smile shot across her face. Y/n would finally see him. She was so excited that she didn't even bother to get a jacket and flew down the stairs, opening the front door as quickly as possible. And here in front of her stood Neymar. With his classic smile and different hairstyle. He opened his arms and Y/n ran up and jumped on top of him. Her legs wrapped around his hips, his arms around her back and under her thigh to keep her from dropping to the ground. She nuzzled her face into his neck, smelling his fresh scent & he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her shampoo, which smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.
They pulled back and smashed their lips into each other's. Their lips seemed to be made for each other and fit together like a puzzle. Ney couldn't seem to enjoy Y/n's cherry lip balm & her hands were tangled in his curls.
"I missed you and I'm so sorry I didn't believe you at first." Y/n whispered, forehead pressed against Neymar's.
" Tudo está bem agora. Eu te amo." [ Everything is good now. I love you.]
" Te amo mais." [I love you more.]
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danielfosseyart · 3 months
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Daniel Watches She-Ra & The Princesses Of Power
-S1E2- 'The Sword Part 2'
Today's She-Ra Watchthrough Art: Another Messy Glimmer Sketch
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Okay so, it's safe to say as of episode 2:
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Glimmer is my favorite by a wide fuckin' mile she's so real.
I don't know if it's been made obvious to anyone, but in case you haven't noticed yet. I have a huge soft spot for characters that fit under a very specific aesthetic. Glimmer most certainly fits it.
"But Daniel, what kind of aesthetic is it that you speak of?" I hear you ask?
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The Best Kind.
(I don't even like MHA but I do love Mina, wish the show was good)
I find it really funny that when Adora turns into She-Ra she just is like, bigger. Like one of She-Ra's superpowers is being fucking tall.
Like being tall is one of her magical abilities.
I really liked the moment Glimmer actually started sounding like she was about to cry. Phenomenal voice acting right there, that alone says so much.
Just hearing Glimmers' voice breaking & hearing her struggling to hold back crying in the middle of her rant.
It just makes everything she's been saying feel a lot more impactful now. Seeing that it had this much of an affect on her.
She doesn't even specify how many people were lost. Like, fuck she might mean it's not just a few, it's not a thousand it's probably like millions.
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Like, they didn't have to flashback or explain it, just that one moment made me go "Oh shit." It tells you more than enough to understand what kind of horrible shit she's been through. Amazing voice acting right there. I love it.
Shadow Weaver is still a cunt. Fuck you shadow weaver.
Hope your pillow is warm on both sides you wizard bitch.
Also Bow was literally the best this episode he was just like so endearing & every time he spoke I had a big goofy smile on my face. He's so fucking joyful. His optimism is infectious.
What else happened uhhhhh.....
Cat-Ra is angry because idk she's lesbian or something & she's decided to make it everyone elses' problem.
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Like geez, Cat-Ra was throwing a real HISSY fit at the end there.
(please laugh i'm fucking desperate here)
Also I see they kept Swiftwind in this reboot.
Please.....
PLEASE TELL ME THEY KEPT HIS FUCKING WEIRD POPEYE GRUFF CHAINSMOKER VOICE.
LIKE IN THE ORIGINAL SHOW HE JUST SOUNDS LIKE THE NARRATOR FROM DOOM 2016. IT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY.
WHY DOES THE MAGIC SPARKLE PEGASUS SOUND LIKE HE'S ABOUT TO TURN TO ADORA & THEN JUST:
"IN THE FIRST AGE, IN THE FIRST BATTLE..."
I really fucking hope he still sounds like that because it's the funniest thing ever & I adore it.
So anyways, new ship dropped.
I ship these two & they are canon & nobody can fucking stop me.
If they don't kiss I'm going to burn down a church.
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Don't be surprised if most of the she-ra watchalong art is just them.
Also Hordak showed up. He seems like he's a better villain in this one but he's still not even close to Skeletor levels yet.
YAWN.
You're gonna have to wow me a lot more than that, Mr. Whore-Dak.
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dg-outlaw · 1 month
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X-Men '97 and the Gambit Ford F-150 Trailer Hitch Clutching
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So I haven't watched all the episodes yet, but I wanted to address the stuff I've seen/heard about certain dudes in the "fandom" getting all upset about Gambit's crop top and how it made him seem gay or bi coded, even though in the entire episode he's classic Remy LeBeau from the original 90s series--not too interesting in helping out or doing anything other than what he wants to do, shamelessly flirting with Rogue, and busting everyone else's balls/possibly flirting with them too, but will still jump into the fight when it's time.
Oh, and Gambit was my favorite X-Men character growing up and I'm a cishet male, if that matters. Spoiler alert: It shouldn't.
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"Holy Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition, Batman! It's his belly button."
If that's you, you clearly were too young in the 90s to remember the fashion of the day. The top photo and the ending basketball scene (a references to the comics as well), was soooo 80s/90s. Bishop's got a lime green tank top on and Cyclops' tank top is tucked into his shorts. The animators understood the assignment.
If anything, Remy (above) is rock-n-roll coded more than anything else. Just Google most 80s era rock bands that had songs about partying, sex, hot babes, etc. and you'll see big hair, eyeliner, bright colors, leather pants, jewelry, fishnets, fingerless gloves, and yes... crop tops. Maybe the 80s and 90s were "gay", IDK, but I remember most of my childhood clothes in the 80s and early 90s were some variation of a neon color as was every other kid's regardless of gender.
As mentioned above, he soooo badly wants in Rogue's pants, which possibly eliminates any gay coding, which only leave bi coding if a 90s crop top = being bisexual.
Who. Freakin'. Cares. Say this out loud with me. You can like, love, and enjoy a character without identifying with that character in any way, shape, or form (and that's probably a good thing for some characters). This can mean their sexuality, gender, ethnicity, religion, morality, or anything else about them. Yes, we can bring in the Punisher debate and how military and law enforcement appropriated the Punisher logo as their badge of honor and intimidation, and how they cherry-picked traits from that character to signal their toxic masculinity when Frank Castle is not meant to be a patron saint of law enforcement or the military. But it is also possible to just enjoy a character without making that character your identity. You can enjoy their characterization, storylines, or even something as simple as their costume, superpowers, or where they're from because you were born or grew up there too.
As mentioned above, Gambit was my favorite character growing up when I first got into X-Men, mostly thanks to this series, and he and I are very different. To me, Gambit was the cool, confident guy that I wasn't. He also wasn't Cyclops or Wolverine.
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As a kid, most kids wanted to be Wolverine when playing X-Men on the playground because he had the claws and the healing factor. To us, he was OP which fit in with the whole childish argument of big, bigger, biggest, and finally infinity whatever... until someone busted out with the infinity times infinity argument. Also, there was no real internet and comics weren't readily accessible, so most of the knowledge at that time was from the show and limited comics one might've had. Plus, I think the whole Magneto pulls the adamantium from Wolverine's body storyline hadn't happened yet so yeah, that would've been a good game changer on the playground.
Anyway, outside of Batman, I was never a fan of the "popular" thing growing up and often preferred more underdog characters, teams, and things. Also, due to self-esteem issues I always felt less than, so while I liked Wolverine it was hard for him to be my favorite since he was everyone else's and I felt like I wasn't cool enough to like him. Cyclops on the other hand was the clean cut boy scout, which also didn't appeal to me because that was also something I didn't relate to. Outside of Beast and Morph, who got sidelined earlier in the series, that then left Gambit. (Note: Bishop wasn't a part of the main group and came later on.) But Gambit also seemed cool to me. He had a cool looking outfit, was agile and knew how to fight (I was into martial arts at the time as well), and could throw explosive cards. He definitely fit the "Rule of cool" in my child brain.
Lastly, and this goes back to point #4 above, it shouldn't matter what a character is like or how they identify. They're fictional and enjoying them as a medium should be fun. They are not you and you are not them, even if you have things in common. That said, I do think it's great when there's representation as well. I don't recall if this was in the OG series, though I seriously doubt it was, and I don't know about main Marvel canon, but I also think it's cool that Morph now has they/them pronouns as seen in the profile credits and Marvel wiki. I'm sure some people have missed this and I'm sure that'll be the next hot-button issue, but whether Gambit is gay, bi, straight, or whatever, he's still one of my favorites and it's why I grabbed this guy when it first came out.
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I have more things to say about this first episode and my experience with the X-Men growing up, but I'll save that for other posts as this has gotten long enough already.
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utilitycaster · 6 months
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I'm so kdhdkdjdkd jazzed about the fjorester proposal !!!! But something that popped up pretty immediately that baffled me was these like... cope posts i guess? Of how "beau and jester should cheat leaving their partners for eachother and how dw guys marriage is just going to spice up the inevitable affair" and it's not even treated as a joke and Im just confused? Like i got into cr2 by the time it was over with so idk what it was like waiting for releases, but why after all this time do people hold on as much as they do? Do they like the story or not?
So I will be totally honest: I am not above checking the blogs of those I know hold terrible opinions, for a number of reasons both reasonable (keeping an eye out for potential harassment; inspiration for meta; my genuine enjoyment of analyzing fandom trends) and less so (schadenfreude and sending DMs that say Can You Believe This Idiot) but I actually have not seen this! To be clear, I would not be surprised it was out there - heaven knows this was a refrain during late Campaign 2 and in the leadup to the two-shot - but I thought that most people finally gave up in late 2022 after the two-shot made it clear the existing relationships are still very much in place. Granted I, as always, rarely go on Twitter.
Anyway. I think some of it is just that people whose enjoyment of works hinges on their ships becoming canon, rather than that being one of many facets to their fandom, also tend to not know when to give up just generally (you can look around this website and still find people hopping mad and/or pining for resolution regarding shows that ended before Campaign 2 even started). I think most of them did finally give up and leave, which is probably healthier for both them and the fandom, but there will probably be a dwindling number of holdouts who will gasp out on their deathbed fifty years hence "Beau and Jester should have been together" to a politely confused hospice nurse.
To actually answer your question, no, they do not like the story. I know I've been very hard on people who seem to only be able to enjoy fiction through a lens of either shipping or intense projection of the self onto existing characters, but in my defense, I'm right. This is a whole separate post, which to be honest I've kind of already made several times, but the usual complaint about the Campaign 2 noncanon ships (echoed in the complaints about Campaign 3 primarily by those who do like the canon ships thereof) was that they would have happened and been flawless and perfect but for that Pesky Plot, ie, the story. Unless the entire point of a story is a romance (eg: the genre that is cleverly titled "Romance") romance is always optional.
I also think, to be honest, Campaign 2 attracted people who were patient. This is a good thing! I think that, for example, people who are not entirely feeling Campaign 2 13 episodes in are valid, because I was similarly enjoying myself but not entirely won over by the plot yet, and it was only a combination of that patience and the burgeoning character dynamics that kept me going (plus the fact that watching week to week is a lower commitment than a binge). Granted I think if you fully give up at that point you are weak and will not survive the winter and should probably go watch Michael Bay movies or Bluey, but that's a separate point. Anyway. Some people are patient beyond a point where it is rewarding or even neutral and pass into a realm of showing up to the Story That Has Fjorester and Beauyasha In It muttering "I hope this doesn't have any fucking Fjorester and Beauyasha". I don't know how to help them, nor do I particularly want to, but I do know that not going on Twitter has been super helpful.
One final note: again, haven't seen the thing you mention in your ask yet in relation to this one-shot and not for lack of poking around Tumblr at least; but I have seen people who were deeply bitter about Campaign 2 but are still around for Campaign 3, though not a ton, and this was also frankly true of people who loved Campaign 1 and have not really cared since but still stick around. There's a weird zombie problem in the fandom; you get people who are very invested in being a fan of Critical Role and can't seem to leave, but haven't actually been happy for literal years, either because they were ultimately only fans of Vox Machina, or the Mighty Nein, or a specific ship within that. It is actually something I try to be cognizant of because I was very cautious about becoming that during the stretch when I was more frustrated by Campaign 3 than I am now. I think, ultimately, it's a conflation of one's fandom with one's external identity and I don't know how that happens or how to fix it but that might also be a factor: people who really don't like the show and haven't for years and are grasping at a thing they think would fix that and make them happy again, and refuse to admit it might be time to move on because that would mean they need to change their conception of themselves.
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urfavnegronerd · 4 months
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percy jackson brain-rot as i begin the books again
as someone whos hopelessly devoted to the workings of rick riordon i absolutely never understood percabeth
like,
they're literally 12, children, CANNOT LEGALLY DRIVE OR CONSENT TO SEX at the end of the og series (chalice of the gods) and niggas really out here shipping the fuck outta them
shit dig hard enough on a03 and there's prolly smut of the two of em
never understood it, like i get a cute lil mutual pining thing where they both like each other but a whole ass ship never made sense. like no, the two don't make babies. why? CUZ THEYRE BABIES THEMSELVES
edit:
okay to clear things up cs people are in the comments saying i don't know what a ship is (i'm literally a fanfic writer on here but okay)
i'm just saying that these are literally little kids in middle school. i'm not saying that middle school kids don't have relationships, but it's still weird. and from, i'm boutta geek out about this incredibly obscure topic i'm sorry, a developmental standpoint middle grade children are nowhere near psychologically ready to be in a relationship which is why it's extremely rare to see couples who have been together since middle school (that one episode of abbott elementary). if you go on tiktok and look for people who broke up with someone they were in a relationship with from middle school- high school, those breakups are traumatic
all breakups are traumatic in some way, but there have been several people who have developed traits of borderline personality disorder because they broke up with someone they had been romantically involved with since middle school.
also let's not forget how warped your view on intimate relationships go (fucking. imma say it the way you think about fucking is skewed). the people i've spoken to who broke up with their middle school partner in their older parts of high school have recounted just how awful their view on sex was, some have even pondered if they were asexual because they couldn't picture themselves up under anyone else.
like i get it, it's cute to see little kids who like each other, but most of this fandom are of age to drive, to study for the SATS/gsces, some are able to legally drink in the united states, or applying to college. these are little baby children that high school students and young adults should not be playing match maker for. ALSO WALKER SCOBELL IS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL/ HIS FIRST YEAR IN HS HE WAS BORN IN 2009.
anyway,
i get it, we all have head canons, but shipping two middle schoolers who a) may or may not have started puberty b) did not stay at one school for too long c) don't know trig formulas d) may or may not have had their first period/ voice dropped/ you get the picture.
SO
i don't understand percabeth as a whole romantic ship, but mostly as a fluffy little middle school flirty thing (prolonged eye contact, stealing hats, asking if they can hug/kiss at a certain time, etc.)
i love love love the concept of seaweed brain and wise girl, smartwater, percabeth, whatever, I THINK THEY'RE ADORABLE but i don't understand the draw of why people feel the incessant need to make it extremely romantic. like why why whyyyyyyy. can we js let them be kids, because lets be real a lot of the newer additions to this fandom only know about the show (and its okay we love you guys anyway its just that some of us have read the books too, its not required for you to love the show that you need to read the books) and are already talking about 'annabeth and percy need to just kiss already' no they don't. cs percy just lost his mom (i know something you dooonttttttt) and our cutie patootie annabeth is still lowkey a mystery (i'm guessing?? idk i haven't watched the show yet i think im gonna pirate it soon or smth, im js assuming because idk what point the show is at in relation to the first book), etc. can we maybe not make them a whole ass ship until the show is in relation to the last few books of the series. lets js let them be kids for now.
AND THIS IS NOT TO SAY THAT I DIDN'T LIKE WHEN THEY WERE AN ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP IN THE LATER BOOKS OKAY ITS NOT TO SAY THAT im just saying that i didn't understand the concept of percabeth within the first few books because it was a little wonky to really really want two twelve year olds to be in a relationship. they're cute when its in the last few books but come on yall. lets not ship them yet. also report any smut you see of them that's not cool or rick riordon approved.
theyre still babies, even if some of the fandom has read all of the books and others didn't.
does this make sense?
xoxo,
rae <3
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teetle-time · 3 months
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Time Is All We Have
A Doctor Who x Rise of the TMNT Xover interest check/story prologue because i'm losing all control of my life lmao
Quick mini-primer for where in both timelines we are:
Non-teetle fixaters, you can just watch the first few minutes of the Rise movie. Bad future timeline shenanigans wahoo! You should probably also get a feel for the regular present timeline from the show if you can, though we won't be directly interacting with it for a quite a bit. Because Reasons. :)
Non-Who fixaters, we're rolling with David Tennant Doctor The First and the companion named Martha Jones. The name similarity to the Casey Joneses makes me giggle, especially now that I've watched through the (REDACTED) episodes where she ends up with some more Caseys parallels. Those haven't happened yet for her though lmao. Frankly, she's only had a few episodes'-worth of adventures with the Doctor by this point. :)
anyway. shoutout to my brother purpletango for having this idea. i believe what i hurriedly jotted down in my notepad app went like this:
the rise movie begins, mikey gets ready to send junior back in time- -and something goes wrong. welp, the gateway's there now. may as well use it. junior gets yeeted through (and my brain is now adding the idea of leo realizing something's up and going with him) and junior (and maybe leo) land…in the TARDIS. now they gotta get back to earth (hoping they're at least in the right dimension) to find the key and stop the krang. NO PRESSURE LMFAO
with a lil tweaking to the premise that just sorta happened as i was writing, i'm now at 26k words of combined fic and notes. it has been 2.5 weeks. i am nowhere near done. help lmao
gonna be doing something a bit funky with the tardis here just to get the ball rolling. idk if it's a canon thing that can happen but if it's not then shshshshshshsh just pretend with me. take my hand
Almost exactly twelve hours prior to the moment he died, when the rest of what remained of the Resistance had been asleep and it had only been the turtles awake to keep watch, Michelangelo had looked to his big brother and said, "We can't beat them, can we?"
Last night, Leonardo had swallowed and given a slight shake of his head. "We can't."
"They've even stolen the night sky from us somehow," Michelangelo had said, lifting his gaze to the cloudless, crimson sky. "Look, there's no stars anymore."
"When did that happen?" Leonardo had asked under his breath. "We still had at least a handful last I checked…"
"Sometime since the last time we had enough peace and quiet at night to actually look up. I'd say…in the past few weeks?" Michelangelo had suggested.
There had been silence for a long moment after that, broken only by the quiet, deep breathing of the few who were left, as well as the shifting of Michelangelo's cloak as he scooted a bit closer to his brother.
Between the two of them, Leonardo and Michelangelo had enough organic fingers and toes to count everyone else who'd survived the past twenty-odd years. Then again, with only two toes on each foot, three fingers on each hand, and three organic hands left to use…well. Less than twenty wasn't exactly an army.
Casey had shifted in his sleep, eventually, mumbling something incoherent the way his mother always had.
Leonardo had swallowed.
Michelangelo had pulled his gaze back down to Earth and looked at him.
"The Krang won't give us the mercy of dying," Leonardo had said grimly. "Not if they can help it."
"They won't," Michelangelo had agreed.
"The others chose to fight with us. Humans, yokai, and mutants. Even Todd. Never would've expected him of all yokai to be so kickass, back in the day. But…this is all Casey's ever known," Leonardo had continued.
"It is."
There had been a shifting in the shadows off in the distance, then, and while it had turned out to be easily taken care of, it had still put a pause on the brothers' conversation for a bit.
When they'd gotten back, but before they'd woken the others and gotten moving again, Leonardo had nailed Michelangelo with a solemn look. "We can't avoid this forever, but Casey…"
"I know you're not talking about that thing we talked about never talking about," Michelangelo had said, raising the ridges of his brows for a deadpan look and a wry smile.
Leonardo had jabbed an elbow into his plastron with a thick snicker…but he hadn't denied it.
Michelangelo had sobered up, then. "Oh."
"Do you think you can do it?" Leonardo had asked as he'd knelt to shake April awake, pausing before he did to meet Michelangelo's eyes.
"I know I can," Michelangelo had said, remaining quiet about how 'it' would very likely be the end of him.
They'd both already known as much.
"When?"
"I-I don't know. When things look bleakest," Leonardo had tried. "If it comes down to us. If it's just you and somebody else. If…if it's just you."
Michelangelo had nodded, then put a hand on his brother's carapace. "The Krang'll get front-row seats to Earth's very own home-grown sun. And that's a Doctor Delicate Touch guarantee."
"Wouldn't expect anything less, little man," Leonardo had chuckled. "Give 'em a light show that'll have 'em running scared."
"I can fly, Leo. And 'little man' was always Raph's thing," Michelangelo had snickered, reaching down to wake Casey. "Hey, Casey, we gotta get moving. Mind waking up and reminding your sensei that I win all height contests forever, no take-backs?"
The noise had begun rousing the others, and Leonardo had scoffed. "Turning my own student against me, Mikey? Low blow."
"Nah," April had said from where she lay. "This is a low blow."
She had snapped an arm out to smack Leonardo's shin, and the rest of the survivors had woken to quiet laughter.
It had been nice.
The last moment of calm within the storm.
In the present, Michelangelo winced as the mystic energies swirling through him reached a crescendo, but still pushed further, digging his fingers into the fabric of reality and wrenching it apart.
With Leonardo wounded, everyone else outnumbered, and Krang closing in on all sides, it was definitely pretty bleak.
There was no better time to make a time gateway than when there was no time left, after all.
His heart pounded in his tympana, loudly enough he almost could have sworn it echoed, a thud-thud-thud-thud that wanted to shake him to the core.
For a moment, with the Krang bearing down on him, his brother, and his nephew, it felt like he was losing his grip.
Casey's voice managed to overpower the thud-thud-thud-thud: "Master Michelangelo, no! You're gonna-!"
He knew.
How could he not, with light cracking his skin and his scales into little flakes of dust on the wind?
But Casey…he was the future.
The best of all of them.
As long as Casey would be okay, Michelangelo could do anything. Would do anything.
He turned his head back over his shoulder for one last look.
Casey looked horrified.
Leonardo looked resigned.
There was no one else left.
(He didn't want to go.)
Michelangelo smiled and gave his family a cheeky little wink, then turned his attention to the time gateway in front of him, threw his arms out to his sides with one last heave-!
-and like Earth's very own home-grown supernova, like the very last star in the universe, he imploded into golden light.
Leonardo felt himself shatter inside as Mikey disintegrated and the time gate stabilized, but the Krang were still closing in.
"Casey, when you're done saving the world, do me a favor," he said, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder.
Casey looked up at him with wide eyes. "Sensei, don't-!"
Leonardo just smiled sadly and shifted his grip from comforting to more of a ready to throw.
He ignored the fire in his side and the trickle of blood down his plastron as he hurled Casey into the gateway. "Grab a slice-!"
"NO!"
Casey's scream was the only warning Leonardo had before the wrist-strapped grapple (standard issue, at least before Donnie had gone out with a bang) streaked back out of the portal, latched onto Leonardo's good shoulder, and yanked him off his feet.
"Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa-!"
The deafening thrum of a Krang laser and a flash of heat at his back told Leonardo exactly how he should have died, but the sensations vanished just as quickly as they'd appeared, leaving only the golden light of Michelangelo's ninpo and the silhouette a few yards away that told Leonardo where Casey was.
Leo almost let himself go limp in the rushing mass of energy as it faded from golden-orange to something more bluish-gray.
Almost.
Instead, however, he grit his teeth against the way his wound flared up and started swimming for Casey.
The light around them grew brighter with no signs of stopping.
By the time Leo reached the kid, he had to screw his eyes shut to avoid going blind.
He managed to grab Casey's hand, then wrap himself protectively around him-
-and then some kind of metal grating slammed against his carapace, his head snapped back, and he knew only darkness.
The Doctor blinked at the sudden sound of beeping. "Oh? That doesn't sound right."
"Doctor? What is it?" asked Martha.
"I'm getting an alert," said he, darting over to one of the TARDIS' monitors for a look. "An alert that there's a lifeform catapulting through the timestream almost completely unprotected- two! Two lifeforms!"
Martha blinked. "What? How did that happen?"
"I don't know, but if we want to find out, we'd best get them onboard before whatever shielding they do have is eroded away." The Doctor studied the monitor for a moment more, then slid around the console and started throwing the appropriate levers and flicking the appropriate switches. "I need to focus on getting close- would you mind peeking out the doors to make sure my aim isn't off?"
"On it!"
The Doctor grinned, then turned his focus back to steering. "Aaalright then! They ought to be coming up just ahead, maybe a smidge to our left-!"
"I see them!" Martha called. "One of them- one looks human!"
The Doctor blinked, then looked up. "Only the one?"
Martha nodded, not tearing her eyes from the window. "The other looks almost like a turtle! Except, well, it's person-sized!"
"Curiouser and curiouser," the Doctor mused. Then, looking back down at the console, "Well, I think the simplest course of action would be to just…scoop them up!"
Martha glanced his way in confusion. "What, just open the door and grab 'em?"
"Exactly. You'll want to be quick and precise," the Doctor recommended. "Good to know we're on the same page."
After a moment to process what he'd said, Martha nodded slowly. "…right."
The Doctor carefully piloted the TARDIS close, and as he watched the energy readings of the two lifeforms get close enough, he heard Martha open the door, then yelp in surprise as something hard hit the metal flooring with a clang.
"Sensei?!" squawked the thick and emotional voice of a pubescent human boy.
"Oh, my," said the Doctor, skirting the edge of the console as he jogged over for a look.
Immediately, he could tell that whatever the circumstances were that had led to the two strangers being catapulted into the timestream, they had not been pretty. Between the apocalyptic fashion and weaponry, the fact that the turtle had seemingly been curled around the boy until losing consciousness, and the sight of tear tracks on the boy's face…well, a billboard would have been less obvious.
The boy glanced between the Doctor and Martha, wide eyes quickly shifting into suspicion as he slid off "Sensei's" plastron and placed himself between the turtle and the Doctor. "Who are you? What do you want with us? Are you with the Krang?"
Huh. He sounded American.
"Krang?" asked Martha, turning to him. "Doctor, what's a Krang?"
The Doctor frowned, mulling the word over. "Krang? Krang, Krang, KrangKrangKrang… Can't say I recognize the name. Bit of a shocker, really, and somewhat worrisome."
The boy's face spasmed, confusion clearly welling up, but the door chose to remind them all that it was still open by letting a tannish cloak drift through and land next to the two newcomers.
The sight of the cloak made the boy's eyes moisten further.
Oh, dear.
"Martha, could you get the door?" asked the Doctor, shifting his voice into something a little softer as he knelt next to the two strangers.
"Oh, uh- you got it."
As Martha did exactly that, the Doctor met the boy's eyes. "I'm the Doctor. Behind you is Martha, and this is the TARDIS. I don't know what it is you're running from, whatever this 'Krang' business is, but I promise you, you're safe here."
The boy's suspicion slowly lessened, the tension in his shoulders loosening some- though, notably, nowhere near completely. "And…what's a tardis?"
"My spaceship," said the Doctor modestly. "'S how I get around. What I want to know is, how did a humanoid teenager and a turtleman with a robotic arm end up hurtling through the timestream all on their lonesome?"
At that, the boy's gaze flickered to the cloak on the ground, and his jaw hardened in that way jaws tended to do when the only other option was to sob.
"…I see," said the Doctor quietly. "While I'd like to know the specifics, pushing this sort of thing never really seems to work out well. So I won't."
"You-" The boy's voice cracked, and he tried again. "You said you were a doctor?"
"The Doctor," corrected he.
"Though I've been training as one for quite some time, myself!" Martha reminded.
The boy visibly warred with himself for a moment, then grit his teeth and pulled slightly away from the turtle's side, revealing a nasty gash that had gone clean through his shell. "Help him. Please."
Martha gasped. "Oh, God-!"
The Doctor's eyes flew wide, but then he nodded firmly. "We'll do everything we can."
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avelera · 1 year
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My head's kind of brimming with a bunch of writing advice thoughts so IDK instead of trying to make a nice formal post thought I'd just word vomit for a bit:
Hurt/Comfort: As a subgenre is attractive because it has a plot arc built into it. We start with hurt (inciting incident) and move to comfort (resolution). Many fic writers who don't think of themselves as being "good at plot" should realize that hurt/comfort describes a plot. A plot doesn't need to be saving the world. It can simply be "what problem (the hurt) is solved by the end of the story (with comfort)?"
On Emotional Character Beats: Some character introductions are more emotional on the re-watch. The one I'm thinking of is Dream's reunion with Lucienne in 1.01 of The Sandman. When they embrace, it's Dream's first physical contact with someone who cares about him in 106 years. It's powerful, but at this point, if one isn't already a Sandman fan, the moment doesn't land as heavily as it will on the re-watch because we haven't been given much reason to care about Dream yet. In part, because he's kind of an asshole for much of the beginning of the story. In part because he spends most of the first episode before that reunion either not speaking or speaking in a very cold, reserved way.
This speaks to a larger question (one I lack a solution to but which haunts me daily) of how to make characters likable as quickly as possible. The movie "Up" has an incredible intro where we learn to love Carl and know his entire tragic backstory in about 3-5 minutes. It's a feat of efficient storytelling. Yet with Sandman, I didn't feel that I very much liked Dream until episode 6, when we're introduced to people who like him, people like Death and Hob who were sad when he was missing and worry about his health, and we see Dream unbend enough to show he likes them in return. That is... quite a long time to ask an audience to engage with a piece of media before we're shown a reason to like the person who is, ostensibly, the main character. But after 1.06, 1.01 hits a lot harder.
Sometimes, there's no way around this. If the inciting incident for your story is something bad happened in the past and we open with the after-effects of it and then the plot is about unwinding what happened then, yeah, that opening of the character stumbling away from some horrible situation, bloody and in pain, isn't really going to land until the creator has earned the emotional connection of the audience to the character, and that might take a while.
But I can't help but feel that while liking the character from the start isn't always required (for example, Dream is meant to be an emotionally distant character who is hard to like, and it adds texture to the story that we take a while to like him, even if that might also lose some audience members before we reach that point) I can't help but think it is possible to earn the initial affection of the audience efficiently enough that we do feel bad, or are at least emotionally intrigued by learning how the hurt happened and eager to see the comfort happen for a character we just met.
One way to make an instant connection with a character is to make the character love something or someone. Not just love like dutifully love certain family members, but I mean adore another person, or a cause, or an idea. We love characters who love things/people. Having a character who loves the plot-relevant thing or the plot-central person, makes the audience see that thing or person through the eyes of someone who loves them. We learn to love Dream when we see people like Death and Hob love him. We learn to care about the plot-relevant cause (Enjolras and his obsession with the Revolution in Les Mis) or the plot-relevant thing (Newt Geiszler and Kaiju in Pacific Rim) when characters are obsessed with those things.
This is why, in theory, were I the one rebuilding Sandman from scratch (disclaimer: I am dirty shipper trash for Dream/Hob) I would want to see either before the fishbowl or immediately after it the people who missed Dream while he was gone. The people who saw him as a person and were worried about his absence. The people who love him and the people he loves such that 106 years of confinement was not just an inciting incident for the plot (ie, everything Dream needs to fix now that he's back) but an actual tragedy because of the amount of time that was stolen from him and the people in his life who were hurt and scared and worried while he was gone, so we can learn to like him.
(Edit: It should be noted, though, the reunion with Lucienne is the first moment we get of someone who loves Dream and missed him and suffered without him reacting to his return, which is an effective tool at making us like a character. We love Dream more through Lucienne's eyes and vice versa. I personally think we needed more moments like that before we, say, saw him dissolve Gregory in what was effectively our main character sacrificing someone's beloved pet in Ep. 2, but your mileage may vary. Different stories are making different points and Sandman doesn't require us to like Dream. That said, it's a risky move to have an unlikable main character and not one I'd suggest for anyone other than an expert at the craft of writing.)
And finally, last craft point that's in my head, this sort of relates to:
Don't open a scene with dialogue. Now, this is one I'm skeptical of, my teacher instructed me in this and I think it's not always correct. However, it was tied to a larger point, which was that dialogue unmoored from setup, character, setting, etc doesn't really earn the emotions that we're asking of the audience. It mostly confuses them. Setting the scene with even a single paragraph before the dialogue tells us who/what/where/why/when/how so that the dialogue actually lands as needed.
Similarly, to tie it to the above, we the author are often emotionally engaged in our characters, especially our OCs. By the time we finally introduce them, stumbling away covered in blood from the inciting incident that kicks off our plot, we are emotionally connected to them. The hardest thing sometimes can be to step back and realize the audience doesn't give a fuck yet about our super duper special OC. We have to earn that love, otherwise who cares about the fact this character has suffered? This requires setup, breathing space, time and an inherent arc of some sort (think: the intro to Up). It doesn't have to be before the character stumbles away covered in blood and kicks off our story, because that can mess up pacing, but it should be placed at such a time that when we think back to that moment, our hearts clench because we now have context to feel what the author wanted us to feel about the suffering of their special blorbo OC. And if you can manage to make our hearts clench at that opening scene of their suffering while it's happening, so that we don't need to backtrack and see the scene with new eyes, then you are IMO effectively a storytelling god. It's not easy. But it is possible!
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boiboiperson · 4 months
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Binge watching the 2017 Ducktales atm and I've recently watched the episode that introduces Faris Djinn. I haven't seen any other episodes with him but so far he was surprisingly good representation (??) At least imo as a half brownie.
At first I was expecting him to be some other Middle Eastern/Persian stereotype but I ended up being very surprised when that didn't happen. I think it's because he embodies so much of this "fOr HoNoUr AnD mY pEoPlE" thing that is seen in stereotypes, but it's not in a way that's violent. Idk I'm bad at explaining, but basically things like honour, strong ties to family/roots/tradition, stubbornness and extra-seriousnes are often used in a stereotypical way to show a Middle Eastern/Persian character as incredibly violent and insane, veerrrrrryyy similar to a terrorist.
BUT with Djinn, it's never shown in a negative way. He marks each monster in the fake trials, his determination allows him to finish his quest and he does it all in the first place for his family. It was kinda odd but also refreshing seeing aspects of my culture I never really think about represented in a regular way instead of as OOOO TERRORISTT. Idk how to describe or explain it maybe some other fellow brownies know what I'm talking about. Please comment!!
Also, I like how it didnt really end up in an orientalist route when they decided not to give him a specific culture. Definitely feels more like ATLA than Aladin. It didn't feel like they were trying to represent a bunch of cultures as one culture but instead were like here's a character whose culture is based off these cultures.
I also just like how he has a fucking character. He has motivations and dimension.
Writing this I'm realising maybe I feel this way about him because a lot of the time we either get shit or no representation. I would love to hear what other people think of him since I'm still a little conflicted and am probably overthinking. I haven't even finished the show yet or have watched any other episodes with him, so there definitely is more to his character I have not seen yet.
Edit: have just done a wee bit of research of the 1987 version of him. Thank god they changed him
Edit numero dos: turns out I love him a lot and want to draw him as a hooman now :D
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