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smuttysabina · 4 months

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"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

#smut #kpop smut #ive smut #rei smut

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where-dreams-dwell · 3 months

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*spoilers for One Day*

For people saying ‘it’s tragic, Dex and Em only got 3 years together’ no. They got 15 years together.

Glossing over the span of their life together to sum it up as ‘only 3 years together’ misses all the love and time they had together that wasn’t solely romantic.

Why is their relationship only ‘important’ or ‘counts’ when it’s a romantic one? Maybe there was always romantic love buried in there or growing steadily but there was a whole lot of platonic love there too.

For 15 years they were the most important person in the world to one another, they described each other as their ‘best friend’ and the person they reached out to at every high and low moment. And for the last 3 of those years they were also a couple.

There are loads of examples of Dex reaching out to Em when he’s at his lowest: the last birthday with his mum, then he’s reeling from his divorce, when he’s scared people will hate him on TV. And you *could* read that as pathetic and Em being his emotional crutch, with Dex latching into her. But you could *also* see that as when you’re struggling and low, you just want your best friend. Because they *get* you. And part of being a best friend is being there in those low moments.

And Em has done the same with Dex, just in different ways. That first year out of uni Em had no idea what she was doing; in a job she couldn’t wait to leave, a relationship that didn’t make her happy, not sure where she was going in life or what she was doing. Em writes to Dex often, and doesn’t need him to reply to her, just to read her letters and be *her* emotional crutch and person to vent to.

Even at that breakup-dinner, Em has things she ‘needs to talk about’ and she’s reached out to Dex to do it. We don’t see her discussing it with Tilly, we see her trying to talk about it with Dex. She’s at arguably her lowest moment (hates her job, hates her partner, hates her home) and she wants her best friend to listen to her. Just like he did when she was 24 and thinking about giving up and leaving London, and Dex convinced her to stay and keep going.

So they are emotional crutches *to one another*. That’s also part of being someone’s best friend.

And for all the low moments Dex also wanted to share his best moments with her too: when he’s excited about the TV pilot he calls Em to say ‘the only person I want to share this with is you’, and begs Em to find a way to be there. Yes this is also him dismissing and ignoring her achievements, yes this is self absorbed and rude and at the height of his egomania, but in that moment of triumph he only wants his best friend there with him.

When they see one another again at Tilly’s wedding Em is brave and self assured when she reveals she’s ‘thought of you every day, missed you every day’, and that even though they are friends again now the fact that Dex will have a wife and child ‘feels a bit like loosing you all over again. Because people with families have different priorities…’ That’s how close they were before.

The sentiment that ‘we grew up together’ is really true, for the both of them. They were very different people throughout their lives, and if they had tried to be a romantic couple earlier there is no guarantee that version of them would have lasted the course.

Would Emma have stayed with a peak-of-his-tv-fame Dex, partying and living life ‘to the full’? Or would they have explosively ended and decided they were too different for one another for it to ever work?

Would Dex have even tried for a career in TV or a full year of travelling if he’d become a couple with Emma after Uni? Or would he have done something else but grown resentful of what-could-have-been?

If they had sorted out their issues and apologised after their fight and Em had left Ian, would Em have found the strength to turn rock bottom into a spring board and finally write her book? Would she have even hit that bottom at all? Or would the hook have remained a pipe dream while she continued as a teacher, happy with Dex but professionally unfulfilled?

We will never know what could have been, and that doesn’t necessarily make those alternatives the ‘better’ option that they ‘missed out on’.

Maybe they would only ever have had 3 years together as a couple and getting it in their mid 30’s the way they did was their most mature and peaceful version.

So yes at times their relationship feels like it’s moving toward the inevitable conclusion of a romantic partnership. But the time before they get there wasn’t wasted or unimportant or unnecessary. And they were always together.

#one day netflix #one day #emma morley #dexter mayhew #friendship #platonic love #romantic love #star crossed lovers #I just get frustrated when people boil ‘they always loved one another’ down to ‘oh so it was romantic from the start and never changed’#like bitch the power of friendship??#the bonds of brother/sisterhood and all that jazz #to say nothing of platonic soulmates #or love that changes and grows #spoilers

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appocalipse · 2 years

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prompt idea! dramatic confession of love in the rain with friends to lovers reader & eddie. maybe like arguing outside about the fact that somethings been off with one of them & demanding an answer, love confessing ensues then BAM! rain kiss 🫢

i love this request so much, i adore writing love confessions! ♥ | 1.7k words (got a little carried away lol)

It started with a simple question.

"Do you mind getting another ride home today?" Eddie had said.

You didn't mind, not really. Of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with him, but you could understand that he had his own life and sometimes his plans didn't line up with yours. It was okay.

When he explained the reason behind the question, however, you felt yourself wither and dwindle like a dying flower.

"I'm going to take Aubrey home, so...you know."

You did know. Aubrey lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and Eddie took to get home every day. He wasn't just giving her a ride; it was something. Something else. Maybe some kind of date, even.

Date.

You felt your heart three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, almost capable of hearing the tiny pieces of it tinkling inside your own chest, "Oh, sure. It's okay."

And then, before you could stop yourself, you did the stupidest thing one could possibly do; you had asked.

"So…did she ask you out on a date or something?"

You'd poked him in the ribs playfully then, trying to look more relaxed than you really felt as the words left your mouth.

If Eddie noticed it, he didn't let it show. He actually laughed, looking a little embarrassed, and replied, "Actually, I kind of asked her."

Wonderful.

You couldn't stop your eyebrows from rising then, whatever's left of your heart from breaking. You tried to avoid looking like the kicked puppy you felt. Probably didn't succeed as much as you'd like to say.

In general, you were good at doing this — you'd been doing it ever since you realized your feelings for Eddie Munson went far beyond a mere affection between two good friends. It was almost second nature — both being in love with him and hiding it.

Eddie hadn't noticed anything wrong when you smiled that day, just as he doesn't notice anything wrong with the smile you're giving him now, in the school hallway, a week later.

He's so blind when it comes to you.

"I'm not going home with you today," you tell him, closing your locker and packing your backpack carefully.

It's been no less than torture letting Eddie drive you around in his van for the past few days; his van, where everything smells like him, where he strikes up conversations and tells jokes and makes you laugh like everything is fine.

Because everything is fine to him. You're the one who couldn't help but fall in love. Like an idiot.

You didn't want to risk him finding out that whatever he had going on with Aubrey made you jealous, though, so you'd forced yourself to let him pick you up and drive you home from school every day while he remained blissfully unaware.

He seems surprised when your words sink in.

"No?"

"I have to go somewhere else first," you lie. It comes off easily when you're not looking at him.

"It's all right, I'll go with you."

"No, it's fine. I think it'll take a little while."

"I don't mind."

Smile, just smile. "Eddie, really, it's okay."

"It's raining a lot," he argues, looking awfully worried. "You can't just walk home. Do you even have an umbrella with you?"

"Yes," another lie. It's downhill from here, you can tell. "Don't worry."

You feel like you're going to get burned any moment now if you don't get away from Eddie.

Most people have already gone home — you've been studying in the library and Eddie's been at Hellfire with the boys, so you two had stuck behind. The empty hallway makes everything seem worse somehow, his worried gaze on you heavier.

He lets you take three steps before grabbing your arm.

"Wait," he says, brows furrowed, eyes searching for something in your expression. Whatever it is, he finds it. "Something's wrong. What's wrong, Y/N?"

Eddie never had much of a sense of personal space — he's invading yours now, very much, and everything just got a lot more complicated; his fingers around your elbow are warm, the eyes that stare back at you are kind. He smells the same as always: leather, spearmint, cigarette smoke masked by cheap cologne.

You look at your arm and wonder what are the odds you'll be able to break free and walk out the front door without him following you. Not good.

"Nothing," you manage to say. "Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about?"

Perhaps the fake smile is losing its power, you think, because Eddie doesn't look like he'd be giving up anytime soon.

"Something is off with you these days," he insists.

"Eddie, look, I need to go-"

"Have I done something wrong?"

"What?" you sound horrified, because you are horrified; as if Eddie would ever be able to intentionally hurt you. It would have been funny if you weren't so sad. "No, of course not!"

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not, I-" It's hard to get the words out with him so close, with his hand on your arm, with his eyes on yours-

Oh, how you'd like to disappear right now.

“Did I forget something?” Eddie looks terribly guilty, even though there's nothing to blame himself for. "Your birthday is still pretty far, so-"

You hate this.

"Eddie-" you try, but he's too far inside his own head to hear. He's probably going over a list of things he could have done to make you mad right now.

“-did we make any plans that I forgot?”

"No, I-"

“Did I say something wrong? Shit, I did, didn’t I?”

“Eddie-”

"-I'm sorry if I said- I don't know what I said, but I am sorry, I-"

“I love you.”

It's a mistake. You instantly know that, you know that the very moment the words leave your mouth without permission, a confession you never meant to make. One look at the way Eddie's entire body seems to tense up, at how his lips freeze mid-sentence, parted but not uttering any words, any sound... it's more than enough to tell you it was a fucking mistake.

Time seems to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. The only sound that can be heard is the rain. Heavy, rhythmic, coming down without pause.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You pull your arm back and pretty much run towards the door as if you might distance yourself from the stupid words you just blurted out by doing so.

You think you hear a mumble of "shit" behind you, but you don't stop to look, don't turn around to be sure. Your eyes are prickling and you can taste the tears that ain't coming.

Rain. You're still running anyways. You're soaked and still running, stumbling because it's hard to see through the storm now, hair sticking to your neck, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

The rain...almost as cruel as whoever was responsible for making you fall in love with a friend like Eddie.

A friend who's now calling your name — a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. You ignore it. You can't look at him. Not now.

He insists.

“Shit! You- you can't just tell me you love me and walk away! HEY!”

You avoid the hand that tries to grab your arm this time and keep walking across the parking lot as fast as you can.

But did luck ever stay on your side?

No.

Your head bumps right into Eddie's chest.

He holds you by the shoulders, palms gentle on your now cold skin, eyes gentler when you lift your chin up to look at him. You try to back away, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.

Not this time, though. Eddie holds you tight this time.

"Are you out of your mind?" he says, shouting to be heard over the storm...or maybe just because he's angry. "You can't just storm off like that with weather like this!"

Eddie's hands slide along your arms and then drop from your fingers.

He's taking his leather jacket off.

You take a step to the right to try and go around him, seizing the opportunity; he, however, steps to the left and holds the jacket over your head — as if you weren't already soaked from head to toe. As if he wasn't soaked from head to toe, too.

Eddie looks angry.

And too close.

Of course he looks angry, you think, I blew it.

“Eddie-”

“You're an idiot,” he says. “How could you just take off running like that? You could get fucking pneumonia out here!”

“I didn't mean to-” he's close, very close, and you feel silly, high, dizzy. Everything and nothing at the same time. The words you want to say are lost inside your mind like a paper boat drifting at the sea.

Eddie is still holding his damn jacket over your head like the goddamned gentleman he is.

Despite the closeness, you feel like you need to yell in order to be heard, your voice high and hoarse. “Just let me go!”

You try again and again, but he skillfully foils every one of your plans to walk away from him.

"No!"

"I am sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that, I just…I just need some time! Just give me time and I'll get over you, Eddie, I swear, and everything will get back to normal and you and I can just pretend it never happened-"

In a heartbeat, he's tossing the jacket to the floor and his lips are on yours.

You gasp, too surprised, too tense, and Edde slides a hand to the small of your back, pressing you against his body with something akin to desperation — both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

When the kiss ends, it's because both of you are out of breath; Eddie doesn't let the space between the two of you grow any further, though.

“Don't get over me,” he pleads, pretty much breathing into your mouth, forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t ever get over me.”

It seems like your heart is about to jump out of your mouth. He leans in again and you don't have it in you to do anything other than the same.

Letting yourself be kissed is easy. Too easy. It also makes it easier to forget everything that brought the two of you here — the confession, the feelings you believed were unrequited until now… Aubrey.

Aubrey.

You realize you broke the kiss and whispered her name when Eddie opens his eyes to look at you.

“I mean, you and Aubrey…the date…”

He squeezes your waist and laughs, "The date lasted 10 minutes before she told me the obvious."

“Obvious?”

His smile grows.

“That I love you.”

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #edward munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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sardonic-the-writer · 7 days

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.

#xmen #xmen x reader #xmen x you #xmen x y/n #wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #peter maximoff #mystique #charles xavier #x reader #one shot

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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would you do basically reader's universe collapsed and she's in shock and horrified back at the spider society hq and miguel's basically grudgingly comforting this teenage spider version who says she failed?

I know I say this about pretty much everything I write but this might be a lil -or a lot- like ass. My brain took a holiday and left this behind 😂

‘Miguel, you’ve got to go to them.’ Lyla said, looking at you.

‘No.’

She huffed and looked at him. ‘Why not?! If anyone here can relate to how they’re feeling right now it’s you.’

‘That’s different.’ Miguel replied, keeping his back to her. The reason why he was being so hesitant to comfort you was because of that familiar look of primal fear in your eyes; You were painfully reminded him of the things and the people that he’s lost, their bodies were warped and distorted until they vanished into nothingness before his very eyes as he was then left unable to prevent it from consuming everything-including his daughter, Gabriella- in their entirety until nothing remained but the memories.

‘How is it?’ Lyla asked, only understanding Miguel’s attitude towards your situation as heartless and unnecessary cruel, you had just been displaced from your home that starting as of now, quite literally does not exist, in what could be considered the worse way imaginable and were in dire need of a shoulder to lean; Lyla thought that due to shared experience, Miguel would be that comforting figure but to hear him downright refuse to check in on you made her put him under intense questioning.

‘Because it is.’ Miguel responded vaguely. Lyla huffs again but said under her breath, ‘what kind of leader are you if you’re not going to be there when it counts.’ Before disappearing, leaving Miguel to press his head into his hands, breathing in deeply and holding it for a couple of seconds before exhaling; On most occasions he hated to admit it but in this instances, Lyla was undeniably right in the fact that you were in need of support but for that support to come from him was where he hesitates. For Miguel was still very much hung up on what happened to Gabriella that he was trying to process what happened under a logistical viewpoint that he had yet to emotionally recover from his losses.

So when he looked back at you to see you staring off at a wall opposite, blankly, mentally having checked out the moment you were brought back to hq by the scruff of your neck. Your friends, Hobie, Miles, Pavitr and Gwen came to check on you regularly but even they couldn’t put your broken pieces together; so one of all of them would just keep you company by making sure you were that you weren’t neglecting your basic needs. While nice as that all was, it doesn’t get rid of the fact that you had no home anymore to return to, no family, no friends; and worst off you had nothing to remember them by but the memories that would forever haunt you to the point where even sleep felt like a method of torture.

‘Mr o’hara.’ Your voice reached out to him. ‘Did…did I fail?’ Miguel, forever a father at heart, felt pained by your words, he knew that he was partially to blame for putting it in everyone’s head that to have your home reality collapse was a fault upon the Spider charged with guarding it, but he thought by doing so everyone would work better at keeping their wits about them and keep their realities stable; unlike him who was more taken by the fact that he had a family elsewhere and wanted to indulge in a life that wasn’t his to experience.

‘No.’ Miguel finally said as he joined at your side. ‘You didn’t fail, you fought valiantly in protecting your reality.’ This didn’t seem to reassure you of anything as you responded with, ‘if I fought so valiantly as you say, then why does it feel like I single handedly destroyed everything I swore to defend as Spider-Man?’ Miguel thought the very same on a daily basis that he didn’t wake up or go to sleep without reminding himself as a way to keep him within that moment; and in doing so he had driven himself to the point where he didn’t recognise the person staring back at him in the mirror. He grew angry, he grew hateful, he grew spiteful and had grown to be condition himself into finding comfort in his isolation and solitude to the point he couldn’t remember who he was outside all of it.

He didn’t want you going down a similar route as he did, for it wasn’t a life he thought best suited you.

‘I was exactly where you are right now, to be honest I still am,’ Miguel admits, ‘I blamed and blamed myself to the point I lost sight of who I once was but you.’ He placed a hand on your shoulder awkwardly, it was obvious that he wasn’t use to having to comfort someone and you couldn’t help but appreciate his attempt. ‘Despite everything that has happened to you thus far, you are still you and that’s far more admirable then any feet of physical strength and you wanna know why?’ Miguel asked rhetorically as he moved to kneel in front of you so that you would be forced to look into his eyes. ‘It takes an extraordinary person to to come out of hell the same person they entered as.’ He tells you, smiling to himself when he saw a small flicker of light return to your eyes, even if it was minuscule and brief, it was a start.

‘You’re not alone, even if you may feel it more so then ever, you’re not and you never will be alone, especially with friends like yours.’ Miguel continues as his eyes lifted over your shoulder, causing you to look also as Gwen, Miles, Pavitr and Hobie could be seen poking their heads into the room; Upon realising that they’ve been caught, the quartet attempted to act as casual as they could with Hobie leaning cooly against the doorframe, tuning his guitar, whilst Pavitr began to talking to Miles and Gwen about something. You couldn’t help but smile a little wider upon seeing your friends, you were so lost amidst what you lost that you didn’t see what was right in front of you, and Miguel could tell that they mean more to you then anything and you wanted nothing more then to show them that you were on the mend of being okay again.

‘I just want to make them proud.’ You said but Miguel knew you weren’t talking about your friends in that moment as a melancholic look crossed over your face when you looked back at him. ‘I can’t speak on their behalf but I’d like to think you already have, they know you tried and they couldn’t be prouder of you. There’s no reason to hold unjustified resentment towards yourself over something that you couldn’t have possibly known was coming.’ He says softly. ‘The hardest part of healing is knowing when it isn’t your fault because we’ve conditioned ourselves to bear the brunt of the blame, to the point where it’s hard for us to understand that when something catastrophic happens, we have no real control nor dictation over it or how it happens. We can be doing our best and it’ll still come whether or not we spend our whole lives preparing for it.’

You reached over to hug Miguel, burying your face into his shoulder, clinging onto him for dear life as he goes stiff as a board at the contact. ‘Thank you.’ You said, voice muffled but it was still coherent enough for him to hear it. Miguel’s body relaxed once realising he wasn’t in any trouble and he brought his arms to cage you against him. ‘No problem kid, just don’t go thinking you have to be be responsible for everything in life because that’s not a healthy way to live and realise that you’re not alone in this for you will always have us to fall back on.’

#atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman : across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv fic #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagine

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rotyoursoul · 1 year

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The Zoldyck’s hire an in-home therapist as Illumi’s wife isn’t having an easy time adjusting to her new lifestyle. Supposedly, she’s allowed to open up as much as she desires. Let’s see where this journey goes.

TW: Yandere themes / (18+ Minors DNI)

————————————

“What brings you both here today?”

“Please help me…” You croak to your only savior who’s seated just a coffee table across from you.

“Y/N.” Illumi warns placing a threatening hand laced with false adornment ontop of yours. His dead eyes move from the side of your face back to the therapists “My wife has been having a hard time adjusting to her new home.”

“Why do you think that is Y/N?”

Your mind quickly weaves from thought to thought, finally deducing that being truthful couldn’t get you in any worse of a situation than you already are.

“I just feel…. trapped.”

“You’ve been granted free reign of the entire estate.” Illumi flatly reminds.

“Mr. Zoldyck please allow your wife to finish her thought.”

“Alright.” They both look at you expectantly. You decide to try and ignore your husbands unblinking gaze and focus on the professional before you.

“I want to go beyond the estate. I miss the mall, flower shops, the market, other people….” You sigh “But Illumi believes I’ll try to escape while I’m out which makes absolutely no sense. Even if I did he’d be able to find me. I’d never really be free.”

She nods at you then turns her attention to your husband

“Illumi do you trust your wife’s word after hearing her thoughts?”

“No.” He sounds bored having already calculated these options long ago. “And as she’s stated, I’d quickly find her. Disciplinary action would ensue. Sleep deprivation, mild starvation, perhaps a needle etc….It’s just bothersome. I have missions to attend.”

Your mouth fell open. How could he admit that so easily?? Surely this went against some health workers code of ethics. The Zoldyck’s had to have been paying her SO well, that his confession didn’t matter.

The therapists expression remained solemn

“Mr. Zoldyck is it safe to say that you’re possessive over the ones you care about?”

“I suppose.”

“You care about me?!” You scoff

“Has that not been made clear?” Illumi questions earnestly

“Mrs. Zoldyck please consider the fact that he’s the one who requested I come here.”

“Oh God, you’re on his side!!” Tears begin to make themselves known as you slump down into the couch and lower into your sorrows.

“I’m not on one side or the other. I am simply here to unite you two.”

A moment of silence falls over the room. After a while, you shake your head in disbelief.

“Whatever just- how many more minutes do we have left?”

—————————————-

A/N: HEY! This is my first time writing for Illumi and publishing so I’m not sure if I captured him correctly. Please let me know! There’s a lot of places this story can go as well. Feel free to give me suggestions. Thank you for reading 🖤

#hxh illumi #yandere #illumi x you #illumi x reader #illumi fanart #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi x y/n #yandere illumi #hunter x hunter fanfic #illumi zoldyck #silva zoldyck #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter hunter #hxh zoldyck #illumi headcanons

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molsno · 4 months

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I have such complex feelings about danganronpa but the treatment of chihiro fujisaki still remains a major sticking point to me.

I've had several different interpretations of the character over the years as my relationship with my gender has evolved but after all these years I feel like I can finally mourn the way she was treated as a trans girl.

it's just... heinous. kazutaka kodaka is so transmisogynistic in his writing that it's sickening to even think about. how am I supposed to feel about the fact that his work has touched my life in such a major way? I'm still talking about danganronpa over 10 years after I first got into it. but an unskippable, major, and early part of the story of the first game makes it clear how he thinks about people like me.

the text of the game is vile. along with the other students, she's threatened with her deepest secret being revealed if nobody murders one of their classmates. she has to face the fact that she's going to be forcibly outed to her classmates in the worst way possible. after she's killed out of jealousy for her bravery by mondo owada, who at the very least has the decency to move her body from the boys' locker room to the girls' to protect her secret, her body is groped to "confirm" that she's a "boy", she's immediately misgendered by all her classmates, and monokuma tells everyone her backstory in a way that totally disregards her actual feelings.

chihiro is not a boy. she doesn't ever claim to be one, except in school mode, which crucially, is explicitly not canon and wasn't even present in the original release. the only reason why anyone, in-game and in the fandom, believes that she's a boy is because of transmisogyny and because of monokuma's explanation. is he the type of character that you should trust, though? not only is he willing to forcibly out a trans girl, this is a pattern of behavior; the mastermind controlling monokuma later threatens to out juzo sakakura as gay as blackmail in the dr3 anime.

when I view the actions of chihiro fujisaki, I can't see anything but a trans girl. she has a severe inferiority complex, cries easily, lacks confidence in herself, hesitates to spend time with cis girls due to a fear of being ostracized for who she is, and heavily latches onto anyone who treats her respectfully (as seen if you do her free time events). and then she's thrust into a horrible situation where she could be killed at any moment, and then given 24 hours to try and come out on her own terms before monokuma does it for her in a way that explicitly misgenders her. she wants to become someone strong, someone who can stand up for herself and fight back against bullies like monokuma who don't respect her gender, but she doesn't get to do that on her own time. she still tries, though, and for it, she's killed.

it's just... tragic. what else can I say? she's yet another example of transmisogynistic tropes in media, but she feels personal to me in a way that few other such characters do. I've always loved chihiro a lot, even when I was younger and couldn't quite put my finger on why.

I don't think I would terribly mind her death if kodaka was a better writer. if danganronpa actually made use of all of its seemingly largely unintentional anticapitalist potential, if it touched on systemic issues such as transmisogyny with tact and respect (for example, if the other students respected her identity and opposed monokuma for repeatedly misgendering her), her death would still be upsetting, but I could accept that.

she just... deserves so much better.

#txt #danganronpa #transmisogyny

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 1 year

Text

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader)

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) Word Count: 14,842 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, guns, near-death experiences, slow-burn romance, drug addiction, death, and some MAJOR FLUFF! Spoilers: none, as Criminal Minds has been out for literal decades so don't get mad.

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer, and one time he says it back in the same fashion.

This man has been eating my brain alive for the past few weeks and I know I'm late but damn he deserves all the appreciation he gets. This was just a silly little idea I had because I'm the kind of person to get obsessed quickly and can't move on until I write it out of my system. Seeing how long this turned out, I have split each moment into six smaller, digestible chapters as linked below. Enjoy xx

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring.

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way.

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words.

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that.

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips.

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.'

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins.

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky.

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it.

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

It became a casual thing, for you to comment on how wonderful Dr. Spencer Reid was. Every day in the office, whenever you travelled to cases, even out in the field, sometimes in not-so-great situations.

It was only ever once, but you always managed to find something to say, 'You are a wonder, Dr Reid,' to him. Sometimes it was his full name, sometimes just doctor. Sometimes, he was just Spencer. Apart from JJ, you were the only one who ever really called him by his first name. Oddly enough for him, he liked it when he was just Spencer, not the Boy Genius or freak or computer.

But the next time you told him that and it meant something to him was ten months after he ended his drug addiction.

He sat at his desk in the bullpen finishing some paperwork, or at least attempting to. They'd just gotten back from a long and exhausting case and his brain (the very thing he knew he could always rely on) refused to coordinate with his hands and eyes. The information he wished to write out felt jammed at his fingers tips, appeared blurry in his vision.

'Gosh,' he breathed out, leaning back in his seat defeated as he rubbed at his tired eyes. No doubt black bags sagged beneath them.

It had been a long, exhausting case. The team had gone to Dallas to find a serial killer who'd been leaving a trail of dead doctors and pharmacists over the span of months which had suddenly turned into weeks, then days once the team joined the case.

The unsub had spiralled, devolved so to say, alluding to a psychotic break. But when they'd found him, he was not the malicious, sadistic person they'd first expected. Spencer was the first on the scene and had instead found a young man in his early twenties, not much younger than himself. All he'd wanted was some off-market narcotic that took away the pain from the physical abuse he received from his father.

And while Spencer's trauma was not the same, he couldn't help but see the parallels. When he'd looked the young man in the eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. All he saw was himself, drowning in his own trauma, his own fear, his own pain.

Spencer scoped the bullpen, suddenly noticing the silence. Not a single person was left. He then looked at his watch - half past ten. He hadn't noticed people leaving whatsoever. Not surprising considering his current state, his current condition.

Spencer slowly reached down to the bottom drawer of his desk, a sudden urge coursing through him to do so. Slowly again, almost hesitantly, he pulled it open and leafed through the many spare manilla folders that sat oddly in there until he reached the bottom.

It was just one vial, but just the mere sight of it sent relief rushing through Spencer. Dilaudid. He gently cradled it up to his eyes, admiring how the glass doors of the entrance became obscured as he looked through the transparent but murky liquid. After this case, what he wouldn't give to have a needle right now. Just one hit-

'Well, if it isn't Dr. Spencer Reid burning the midnight oil.'

Spencer almost dropped the vial as he scrambled to shove it deep into his pant pocket just as you appeared out of nowhere from the conference room.

'Sorry,' you said, an apologetic smile already on your lips. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's okay,' he replied as casually as possible. It was one thing to nearly be caught out by your colleague that you had an illegal narcotic you used to have an addiction for in your hand, but another when that colleague is one you've admired since the day you met. 'I was lost in thought, anyways.'

'Well just as well then. I can only imagine how depthless your brain must go with all that knowledge crammed in there.' You walked down the stairs to the floor of the bullpen and walked to him. You were still in your clothes from the past twenty-four hours, and your light makeup looked like it was lifting off your face like a second skin. Even your unrelenting smile seemed to sag with exhaustion.

Spencer straightened up in his seat, suddenly concerned. 'You okay, (Y/N)? You look-'

'Like trash?' you finished as you pulled up a chair of your own and sat in front of him. 'I have no doubt.'

Spencer looked behind your back into the conference room, his eyebrows furrowing when he spotted stacks of folders and loose paperwork spread across the table. 'That all yours?'

You looked back to the mess of words and paper you'd just escaped and sighed dramatically. 'Oh, yeah. Seems like the longer the case, the more paperwork you have to do. Poor trees.'

'Yeah...' Spencer found it odd how much paperwork you had to get through. Even he didn't have that much to get through. But before he could question you about it, your soft voice filled the damning void that surrounded him.

'How are you feeling, you know, after this case?'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Don't give me that,' you say, your smile now replaced by a seriousness Spencer only saw on you when you were making an arrest or in really dire situations. You've worked together for almost three years now, he knew all the faces you pulled, all of your likes and dislikes, how you liked your coffee only after you've completed one task for the day to prove you can survive without it but choose not to.

He knows you, so it should not be surprising that you know him just as well.

'The moment we found out the unsub's objective, you've been a little... off.'

'Well, it shouldn't be surprising considering that was me just ten months ago,' he said matter-of-factly, pulling back into his shell, putting up his guard. 'I mean, if Hotch hadn't have found out about it, that could've been me-'

'No it wouldn't have.'

Spencer scoffed, but not in a demeaning manner. He just didn't believe you for a moment because he could see the facts, the statistics, in his head. 'Over 45% percent of addicts relapse at least twice. This is without the intervention or support by health care clinics and families and friends, and this case just proved that. So, yes, it could've been-'

'But it wasn't,' you intervened again, your voice echoing like soft thunder through the empty office. It gave you presence, forcing Spencer to look at you, like really look at you, and face what you were about to say.

'You had help and support from people that care about you, Spence,' you continued, sitting forward in your seat. 'And I don't care about the statistics, you're not one of them. You're your own person and you can determine where you add value in life, not by some... statistically-informed percentage prediction... thing.'

That drew a laugh out him, the quiet but sudden sound surprising him slightly. 'Stastically-informed percentage prediction, huh?'

'Shut up,' you grumbled and playfully punched his shoulder. When you both calmed down, you continued. 'When I realised who we were looking for, for a moment I kind of got scared.'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow 'Scared?'

You nodded. 'The truth is that... when you were kidnapped and... you had to endure all that pain alone... I was terrified. We all were. Even when we found you, I was terrified. Because I knew you would never be the same, and not that it's your problem, but I knew in that moment that I would never forgive myself for not finding you sooner. For not going with you and JJ to the farm.'

Tears welled up in your eyes and Spencer immediately leant forward. To do what, he didn't know, he just needed you to know he was there for you, like you always were for him.

'I'm sorry,' you mutter, blinking the tears away before they could fall. 'Your trauma is not my own. I have no right to express my guilt.'

'There's nothing to feel guilty for,' he said, reaching out slowly with his hands, the ones that slightly shook as he laid them on your own.

To his relief, you smiled. It wasn't full, but it was there. 'You're a horrible liar, Spencer Reid.' That brought some laughter out of you both, lightening the suffocating air of the office.

'But even when we found out about you and the dilaudid,' you continued, pulling yourself together, if only to let Spencer know your true thoughts. 'I wasn't even mad.'

A large lump formed in Spencer's throat, and he had a hard time swallowing it along with the threat of tears that burned behind his amber eyes. 'You... You weren't?'

It was the mixture of surprise and hope that pulled at your heart, that made you feel obligated to keep speaking. 'Why should I have been? I was not the one who was tortured mentally and physically by a split-personality murderer; and who also witnesses the darkest, most ugliest aspects of humanity every single day of his life. It was not my place to judge how you hold onto your own humanity.'

Your eyes until then had never left his, but they flickered downwards then, and Spencer froze at where your gaze landed.

It only lasted a moment before your eyes returned to his, and it startled him the lack of sympathy he finds there, but instead warmth. 'It is still not my place to judge,' you said, twisting your hands so they could clasp his fully. 'All I know is that... you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. So much stronger than me, JJ, Pen, Emily - heck, I'd say you're even stronger than Derek. But not Hotch, Gideon, and Rossi, though. Then again, no one is.'

You both chuckled at that, and all the tension in his body seemed to dissipate at the sound. So light and airy, it was what he imagined heaven sounded like.

'The point is,' you continued, giving his hands a squeeze, 'you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded and conflicted within himself. He felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. And a great urge to suddenly engulf you in a hug started itching his limbs, which was weird because he didn't care much physical affection, or affection in general. But before he could decide what he wanted to do, you decided for him.

You gave his hands one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. The absence of your touch left him cold as he followed you as you went back into the conference room to pack up. Surprisingly it didn't take you long until you came back out, your coat and bag in hand.

'Don't stay up too long, now,' you said as you passed him by, your smile so radiant it was almost as if you weren't crying just a few minutes before. 'We've got a long day ahead.'

As soon as the elevator door closed on you, he pulled out the vial of dilaudid and stared it down. It was like it was taunting him, sitting idly, innocently, in his palm, as if it knew he desperately wanted it, needed it.

'...you are stronger than you give yourself credit for... you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

For some reason, though, he suddenly didn't need it. The fire, the urge, the want and reliance for it - he was suddenly weightless with clarity, if only for a moment.

Spencer chucked the vial in the dumpster outside the office when he left. It was hard, but he did it. He knew he wasn't cured, that there was still a long road ahead. But it was a start.

The next day when he came into the office, Derek was the first to comment on his haggard appearance.

'Seriously man,' he said, trailing Spencer out of the break room, 'you look like a ghoul. Did you sleep at all last night.'

'I was here late last night doing paperwork,' he explained, sitting himself and his coffee down at his desk. 'You should go see (y/n), she probably looks a little worse for wear herself from staying late last night, too.'

'Oh, she stayed late too, did she?'

'It's not like that,' Spencer insisted, swatting at Derek pathetically. 'She had a mountain of paperwork to finish of her own.'

'Y/N?' Emily said as she walked by with JJ, identical coffees in their hands. 'She finished her paperwork at about the same time I did.'

'Yeah, we were walking out together before she turned back into the office. Said she had to talk with Hotch,' JJ said.

'I remember that,' Spencer added. 'You guys said goodnight to me on your way out.' Not that he had responded, he suddenly recalled, a pang of guilt punching his gut.

'Who had to talk with me?' The man himself suddenly walked by, stopping at the congregated group upon hearing his name.

'Y/n,' Emily answered. 'Last night.'

'Oh, yes. She, uh, asked if there was anymore paperwork to do.'

'Why would she do that when she was done?' JJ asked.

'I don't know,' Hotch said, making his way towards his office, 'but who am I to turn away someone who wants to do paperwork for free? Now, briefing in ten minutes.'

As the others dispersed back to their desks, Spencer didn't know how to feel about this new information. It didn't help the matter when you finally dragged yourself into the office, dark circles peaking out from under your thin layer of foundation. But as you sat at your desk, eyes drooping as you logged onto your laptop, he knew just what to do.

It took you a second to register the cup of coffee being held in front of your dazed eyes, and another to realise who was holding it.

'Late night?' Spencer asked, a coy smile on his lips.

Despite your exhaustion, you managed to grab the cup without spilling any of the precious caffeine that would help you through the day. 'Yeah,' you decided to play dumb, answering as enthusiastically as possible. 'Paperwork, you know. Never-ending.'

Spencer hummed, contemplating his next words carefully. 'Well, I hope giving up your sleep was worth it, then.'

'I'd like to think it was.'

The way you didn't hesitate to answer struck a chord of truth in him that left him dumbfounded once more. Twice in under twenty-four hours? That had to be a new record for him.

But instead of freezing up, he managed an honest smile as he clanked his coffee cup with your own. 'Well... it is certainly most appreciated.'

The next time you dumbfounded him, he almost kissed you.

Ever since you had joined the BAU, you and Spencer had alway had a sweet partnership. But after that night in the office, you had become inseparable. Best friends, to put simply. You stayed late at the office to keep each other company, brought each other coffee and treats, spent free days checking out the new films playing in the cinema.

You had inside jokes, and fought like an old, married couple - a fact the team loved to bring up whenever possible. But you liked it like that. Spencer was your person, and you were his.

And as much as he wowed you everyday, you managed to surprise him on occasions, too.

You were both paired up to interrogate a suspect. You personally didn't believe she was the killer, but Spencer didn't like to base anything from solely his gut. In other words, he was skeptical.

'I didn't kill those women,' your suspect said. 'And even if wanted to kill them, it would be for something more worthwhile than a stupid role.'

'Jealously isn't as far-fetched a reason to kill as you may believe,' Spencer stated to her. 'Particularly in women, the feeling of being threatened or in danger of losing something important to them brings out almost a maternal instinct to protect what they believe to be is theirs.'

'You think all actresses are that low? That shallow?' The young woman was pretty, but her face scrunched up in an ugly manner at the insinuation.

'He doesn't think that at all,' you interjected. 'In fact, he quite likes actresses, don't you buddy?'

Spencer gave you a side eye to which you smiled sickly-sweetly at in return. You were never going to let the Lila fling down any time soon.

You looked back at the young woman, your face returning to empathetic, concerned. She had a wall up, she was wearing a mask. If you wanted answers out of her, you needed to connect with her.

You leaned forward on the table, positioning yourself in front of Spencer so all her focus was on you.

'Anna,' you said softly, like you were speaking to a friend. 'I know you didn't do it. You're different than all those other girls right? You've worked hard to get where you are. Small town girl wanting to make a name for herself in an industry that can be ruthless and heartless as the killer that's still out there. You are classically trained, by-the-book, no shortcuts. I bet you started on the stage of your elementary school, landing the lead role.'

The young woman looked at you with skepticism for a moment, then you saw a crack in her mask as she nodded. 'I was Mary in the Christmas production. But it wasn't until high school when we preformed Shakespeare's The Tempest that I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.'

Spencer noticed your smile now, how it lifted in a manner that sung of melancholy and fondness.

'"We are such stuff as dreams are made on.",' you said whimsically, and Spencer noted a familiarity that had the words rolling off your tongue with ease. Like it was muscle memory.

'Such a beautiful line, right?' the young woman asked.

'Yes, but, when translated into our modern English, it is quite sad really.' You make eye contact with the young woman and hoped she saw the understanding and slight desperation in your eyes. 'It means that life is an illusion, and a fleeting one at that. I don't necessarily believe in the first part of that, but it is true that life is fleeting. So before you end up the next aspiring actress in our morgue, you've got to tell us everything you know.'

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly. Honestly, it was the easiest one Spencer had ever sat in before. And all the while he had just sat there in awe of you.

'I didn't know you read Shakespeare,' he said randomly as they drove together in a local police SUV to meet with the rest of the team at the new suspect's house.

You scoffed. 'See that's the biggest misconception of Shakespeare. That it can only be read. In fact, it actually shouldn't be just read. It needs to be performed.'

Amusement danced upon Spencer's lips. 'Are you saying you were in a Shakespearean play? Which one? Actually, let me guess. Romeo and Juliet.'

'That's a cliche.'

'Twelfth Night? How about Taming of the Shrew?'

'Why do you want to know so badly?'

'Because I...' It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't quite know why he wanted to know. Only that he knows everything and you were his best friend and he didn't know something about you.

You spared him a sympathetic smile from the driver's seat before returning your eyes to the road. 'If you must know... it was actually The Tempest. It was my high school's production, too. And as much as he irritates me, I grew fascinated with Shakespeare's work after that. It even prompted me to do a unit or two in Shakespearean literature and performance during my uni days.'

You allowed yourself to slip back in time a little to those days, that melancholy and fondness finding its way back into your smile, Spencer noticed.

'Outside of Shakespeare though, I'll admit... I was a theatre kid.'

'No way!' Spencer exclaimed. 'You?'

'Why is it so unbelievable that I used to dress up and spout lines that no one really understood?' you asked, but you weren't offended. Simply amused that you seemed to have stunned the (until now) un-stunnable Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Because... it's just so left of field from anyone else in the team.'

'And is that a bad thing?'

'...not at all,' he said after a moment, and then proceeded to drop the matter entirely. Spencer Reid never forgets anything, he couldn't forget, not with his eidetic memory. But he made extra special care to file that little fact about you away for now.

A few days after returning home from wrapping that case up, you came into work to find your coffee already made on your desk, and beside it was an envelope. Curious, you swiftly opened the envelope and gasped with pure surprise at what you found.

'I thought you might like them,' Spencer said as he approached you, his own coffee in hand. 'The ticket vendor said they were the best seats in the house.'

'Oh my God, Spencer!' You couldn't help yourself, you leapt onto the gangly man like a frog and held him tighter than you'd ever hugged someone before, avoiding spilling Spencer's coffee. You were so excited you even smacked a fat, grateful kiss on his unsuspecting cheek before letting him go. 'Tickets to ASC's production of The Tempest?! How did you even get these, I was told they were all gone.'

'Believe it or not, I have connections everywhere,' Spencer answered a bit too vaguely but you didn't care. 'Even in areas that aren't of my particular expertise. I figured you and a friend could go enjoy it before it finishes up.'

'You mean you're not coming?'

Spencer tried not to read into it too much, but he swore he heard a little hiccup in your question, like you were upset. 'W-Well, I, I, uh, didn't want to assume anything. I mean, y-you might want to take JJ, or Emily-

'Spencer.' It was ridiculous how easy he listened when you said his name, how he dropped everything to listen to what you had to say whenever you did. And his heart faltered when he made eye contact with you and saw joy and hope lighting up your eyes. 'Would you like to come to the show with me?'

And it wasn't any wonder, then, that he replied without hesitation, 'Y-Yeah! All right, s-sure. Would love to.'

'Amazing!' Spencer once again had to juggle his coffee and you as you squeezed all the air out of him in another bone-crushing hug. 'Spencer Reid, you have just made my day.'

It was a week later and the night of the performance. You drove yourself and Spencer two and a half hours straight from Quantico down to Staunton to the American Shakespeare Centre, reciting and recalling your favourite Shakespearean moments the whole trip.

Spencer made the extreme effort to look presentable, pulling out a nice suit set, even replacing his usual casual sneakers with some shiny boots. His hair was slicked back out of his face, with only the slightest stubble on his chin and upper lip.

When you picked him up, you said he looked handsome. He never cared much for his appearance, but that comment warmed his heart slightly, made him sit more upright in his seat.

Once you pulled up and got out of the car, he finally saw you in all your glory. A navy blue dress clung to your frame beautifully; kitten heels cradled your feet as you walked up the stairs to the theatre's entrance; your jewellery brought out the (e/c) in your eyes, even further accentuated by your simple makeup and hair.

Spencer has met Nobel price winners, attorney generals, even spoken with the most psychotic people humanity has to offer. And yet there you stood - ethereal, angelic, striking him silent with just your presence.

'You coming, Boy Wonder?'

You'd reached the top the stairs without him moving a muscle. Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up with a cough as he scrambled to catch up with you. 'Boy Wonder? Where did that come from?'

You shrugged playfully as you hooked your arm through his. 'Just seemed appropriate.'

'I'm twenty-seven, (y/n). I'm hardly a boy.'

'Oh, so would you prefer I call you Batman?'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I didn't know you liked DC comics.'

'There's a lot you still don't know about me, Spencer Reid,' you answered, handing over your tickets to the ticket vendor at the door. 'Like how I've always preferred Robin over Batman, anyway.'

You quickly found your seats, and Spencer tried not to acknowledge how tight-knit the seats were pressed together. His thigh pressed lightly against your own, and he couldn't tell if he hated or liked the feeling that suddenly sprouted in his gut.

It distracted him so much that instead of watching the performance, he looked at you. How you reacted to each sonnet, to the entrance of new characters, to the costuming and the music and emotion that filled the room with every word spoken. He watched it all, your joy, your love. Your heart was on your face, and it struck something new and unexplored inside him.

You cried at one point, and physical touch wasn't his forte, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze that he was there. You'd turned to him briefly and nodded, showing that you understood and that you were grateful.

You didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

'Wow,' you breathed out as you exited the theatre, the performance finally done. 'That was...'

'Yeah. I feel the same,' Spencer finished, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked down the stairs towards the carpark. His hand still burned from your touch, and that unsure feeling in his gut still remained.

'It was just so... magical.'

'I would say impressive, but magical works too, I guess.'

'Says the guy who still goes trick-or-treating on Halloween and believes in ghosts. Don't tell me you don't believe in the supernatural now.'

'I'm not saying I don't believe. I'm just saying that it's impressive that they were able to make fantastical magic seem slightly realistic.'

You playfully shove him, causing you both to fall into laughter. The two different melodies mixing together made Spencer feel lighter than he'd felt in a while. This was different to when you usually hung out. This time, there was no case, no team, nothing but yourselves to worry about.

'It doesn't matter, anyways,' you said, stopping on the steps suddenly. Spencer went down one more before stopping too. You smiled gratefully at him. It was a cool, autumn night, cool enough that your breath danced like ghosts in front of you as you spoke. 'Thank you, Spence. This was a wonderful night. You didn't have to do this.'

'I know,' he said, and it startled him how quiet and soft his voice was. 'I just... I just wanted you to enjoy the stuff you love. You deserve to enjoy the stuff you love.'

His acute eyes fell to your shoulders and noticed the slight shake in them. 'Here.' He wasted no time pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling it tight to capture the warmth.

You gratefully held onto the jacket, the warmth it captured seeping into your eyes. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer,' you said, your words dancing in between you two.

He was only the step down now, making you two eye level with one another. He was so close he could see himself in your eyes. He wondered if you could see yourself in his.

'Am I?' he asked, his breath mixing with yours.

'Yeah...'

He felt your warmth, and he suddenly decided that he liked the feeling in his gut. The one that had been driving him crazy all night. The one that had an iron grip on his mind, his heart. The one that pulled him closer to you, to your lips.

His eyes were almost closed and his lips almost on yours. You didn't back away - you didn't want to back away you realised. No matter how hard your heart pounded in your chest. No matter if he was your best friend.

So you leaned in too, and you could just feel the stars and planets align as you tasted his breath-

The front of your heel slipped on the edge of the step, sending you flying forwards into Spencer's chest. His reflexes had improved immensely since joining the BAU, and so he managed to grab hold of you and hold himself up before your momentum could send you both tumbling down the remaining stairs.

You both breathed in heavy gulps of air, steadying both your hearts from what could've happened.

'Nice catch,' you said after a moment, loosening your grip on Spencer only a little.

'Thanks.' He didn't know where to look. You, the ground, his surroundings. It all just felt muddled, as if his whole world had been tilted on its axis.

In a sense, it had.

But he felt your gaze, and he couldn't deny your eyes so he looked at you also. You eyes were blown wide, and the slight catch in your breath had him second guessing himself. Maybe he'd read you wrong after all. He'd never been wrong before, but there was always a first time for everything, he figured.

'(Y/n), look, I-'

Before he could attempt to salvage himself, the irritating ring of his phone went off, breaking the glass dome of solitude you'd' forged together with nothing but words and air.

This forced you apart, awkwardly so, as Spencer readjusted you on his step before letting you go completely and fishing his phone out of his pant pocket. He checked the ID caller: Hotch.

He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. 'Hotch, what's up?'

'New case,' the unit chief answered without pleasantries. 'I know we're all meant to be off for the weekend but this one is important.'

'Where is it and we'll be there.'

'You're with (Y/n), right? In Staunton?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Head to the local police. We'll meet you there. That's where the case is.'

'Okay. Gotcha.'

Hotch ended the call and then it was just him and you once more. Although instead of the air feeling freeing and warming, Spencer couldn't seem to get enough in his lungs. It was like he was suffocating, having to face you again.

So he slipped into work mode, keeping Hotch's urgency and the new case in the forefront of his mind. 'New case. Here in Staunton. Hotch wants us to head down to the police and meet them there.'

'Right.' You seemed to think the same as him - it's probably why you were best friends to begin with - as the ethereal light in your eyes dimmed with the severity of the new situation. Without another word, you both bee-lined for the car, jumped in, and made your way to the local police station.

But for the rest of the case, Spencer couldn't help but think about that moment with you on the steps. He'd kissed before, of course, even dabbled in flirting despite how little he knew about the craft. He'd never imagined he'd attempt it all on you, however. Not even in his wildest dreams.

He didn't hear your heart-stopping compliment again until it was almost too late.

After the Staunton case, you and Spencer had been... odd. Well, mainly Spencer, as he spoke as little as possible to you during cases, and always offered to go with anyone else but you on certain tasks. He even stopped coming over to yours for movie night each Saturday, claiming each time to be busy or unwell. It was Spencer's only way of ensuring nothing like that night ever happened again.

He convinced himself the moment was fleeting, just a mixture of chemicals in his brain combined with the adrenaline of being with a beautiful women he very much admired that made him read the signs wrong. You were friends, that was all you were, and all he would ever allow you to be.

This went on for three months.

And you were miserable.

Emily, JJ and Penelope recognised the change in your demeanour at work first, and when they found out the reason behind it, they slapped Spencer upside the head on their way out of the office one Friday afternoon and took you with them, promising a wonderful night out on the town.

That night, to Spencer's eventual annoyance, you'd met someone. A charming young firefighter named Riley who lived in Washington DC and was just in town to see family.

That night, you hooked up. And the next morning, he asked you on a date. That date led to another, then more. You were on your way to another one tonight when you got a phone call from JJ saying they found the latest unsub's house and were planning a raid on it.

Spencer knew you were on a date when he also got the phone call to come along. Despite his distance (by his own choice, he always had to remind himself), he kept tabs on you, checked in on you via others. And while the girls of the team were awfully mad at him, they always answered him when he asked how you were doing.

'You know, for a genius, you really are quite stupid,' JJ told him when he asked about you.

He quirked his eyebrow, genuinely confused. 'I'm sorry?'

'She's heartbroken,' Penelope added. 'Her best friend just gives her the silent treatment out of nowhere after what sounded like a magical night at the theatre. Who wouldn't be upset by that, Reid?'

'I just,' he paused, rallying his thoughts into words that couldn't quite describe how he felt. 'It's complicated.'

'Love shouldn't be complicated, Reid,' Emily interjected, a soft but sad smile gracing her painted lips.

Spencer swallowed thickly at that. 'W-What do you mean?'

Derek finished making his coffee and took a sip of it before answering. 'We all see it, Reid. You don't have to deny anymore how you feel.'

'I'm not denying anything, Morgan.'

'Maybe not to us,' Derek continued. 'But you are definitely denying it to yourself. All I can say is don't wait until it's too late. She's already slipping away.'

That's when Spencer found out about your dates with Riley, and an ugly, selfish, hurt part of him wanted to scream with anger. Mainly at himself, but the damage was done and he had to get over you.

But when you showed up to the unsub's home, your FBI bullet-proof vest on and mascara slightly smeared under your eyes, he was beyond confused. And concerned.

'You're here,' he stated matter-of-factly.

'You sound surprised,' you answered stiffly, loading your gun without even glancing at him.

'To be honest, yeah. JJ and the rest all said you were out tonight. I figured you-'

'What? That I would ignore the call because I had something personal planned?' You finally looked up at him, and man did your cold stare pierce him like an arrow. 'This is my job, Spence. I knew, same as you and everyone else, that I would have to make some sacrifices to do it. So please, don't think so little of me just because I attempted to have a life outside of it.'

He grew more concerned at your choice of words. 'Attempted?' he asked, but then he looked closely at your smeared mascara, at the redness circling your eyes. Like you'd been crying-

'Don't worry about it,' you muttered, brushing past him to meet up with the team. 'You haven't for about four months now.'

Spencer tried to ignore the sting your words brought with them as he followed you to the rest of the team, forcing himself to put the case in front of you. But he'd done that for the past four months as you had so brightly pointed out, and look where it had landed him.

'Now remember,' Hotch started, bringing the team and some other officers in to brief, 'this unsub may use this place as his base to build his bombs, but don't discredit the idea that he wouldn't blow it up to save himself. Tread carefully but be vigilant, he is in the house somewhere. Now move.'

Spencer followed you into the house through the front door, gun and flashlight at the ready. All that could be heard were the soft but swift patter of footsteps as the FBI and local police ran in. The lights were on, but no unsub.

You were silently directed by Hotch to investigate the back end of the house, to which Spencer and Derek followed. You focussed on maintaining your breathing as you tried not to think about your date, Spencer, your heart thrashing in your ribcage. Only the unsub mattered.

The three of you broke into the last room of the house, the laundry. Upon entry, you spotted him, the unsub, running out the back door into the backyard.

'Hey!' you called out, immediately breaking into a sprint after him. You broke out of the laundry onto a cemented path towards a clothes line, chasing after him towards the fence line. But as you stepped off the path and onto the grass, something gave way beneath your feet, followed by a resounding click that had your freezing with fear.

'(L/n), keep going!' Derek shouted from somewhere behind you.

'Hold up!' you cried, throwing an arm back behind you. 'I think the yard is full of bombs.'

'Well, let's go around the front and get him in the back streets, come on!'

'I can't,' you replied back, slightly breathless from running, but also from the fear constricting now your airways.

'Why?' You didn't have to see him to know it was Spencer, concern dripping from just one word.

'Because I'm standing on one.'

Spencer knew it was physically impossible, but he was sure his stomach just dropped out of him and onto the bomb-littered grass around them. This was bad. Like very very bad.

'Shit,' Derek breathed out before bringing his wrist up to his mouth. 'Hotch, the unsub got away over the back fence, send some men to intercept him two blocks north from here.'

'Got it,' Hotch answered efficiently.

'And send the bomb squad out here. Yard is like a mine field and (L/n) is standing on one.'

After that, it didn't take long for the rest of the team to run outside, making extra careful to stand only on the pavements as they got as close to you as they could. Spencer stood the closest, standing directly in front of you as the bomb squad swept the yard for the rest of them.

'I've got some good news and some bad news,' one member of the bomb squad said as she came up to the team. 'Good news is it's the only bomb in the yard.'

'And I just managed to find it. Super,' you muttered, your tone shaky although the intention was to lighten the mood.

'Bad news is it's a pressure-triggered bomb, meaning that if you move even a fraction it'll go off. Also, by stepping on it, you've set of a timer until it explodes. The only way to disarm it seems to be a code of some kind.'

'How long do we have?' Spencer asked, not bothering to mask his desperation. This couldn't be happening. Of all the people, it had to be you.

'Six hours now,' she said grimly. 'My team and I will do everything we can to dismantle it and shut it off manually, but it's built quite strong so it'll be tough to crack open without setting it off. Your best bet will be to get an answer from your bomber.'

'Uniforms just called in,' Rossi said. 'They're bringing him in now.'

'Good,' Hotch said with a ferocity that would send most people running for the hills. 'He's gonna give us that code one way or another.' He turned to you, determination blazing in his eyes. 'Hang tight, (Y/n). We're gonna get you off that thing.'

'I'll hold you to that,' you joked, and you were grateful to receive a soft smile in return from Hotch and the rest of the team. Except for Spencer, he couldn't find it in himself to smile. He could barely think no thanks to your dangerous position.

'I'll stay with (Y/n),' Spencer said, his voice strained compared to his usual calmness.

'Reid,' Derek started, 'you're our best bet to crack open this guy. If we find something-'

'Then I'll have my phone ready to pick up. I'm not leaving her.'

It surprised you the strength you heard hidden underneath his fear. It was there in his eyes too, blazing like Hotch's, except with more warmth, more determination.

Derek looked to Hotch, and Hotch just nodded. 'Okay fine, but you better pick up on the first ring.'

'Promise.'

'I'll stay to help with the bomb squad,' Emily said while also looking at you.

'No,' you said as Hotch, Derek and JJ left. 'You all should go. In case he somehow remotely sets it off himself.'

'We're not leaving,' Reid said firmly, making eye contact with you. 'Not until you're off that bomb, you hear me?'

You wanted to argue, trying to be selfless and strong. But the truth was you were terrified, and to hear Spencer's strength where you lacked helped you push your pride aside and nod in agreement.

Time had flown by and it was now the last ten minutes. Spencer had received phone call after phone call but nothing had been helpful. They'd tried two potential codes already but they didn't work. The bomb squad quickly realised that they only had three chances to get the code right and so they were down to the last chance.

'You guys should really leave,' you said amidst your chattering teeth. It was now just after midnight and your thin button up and the bulletproof vest were not cutting it anymore. Spencer wished he could give you a blanket, a jacket, his own shirt for God's sake if it would keep you warm slightly.

'That's not going to happen,' he answered without hesitation.

You yawned, eyes threatening to droop close. Your legs had gone numb long ago. You were unsure how you were holding yourself up. It certainly wasn't by adrenaline. Perhaps you were frozen in place.

'I mean it, Spence,' you said, bracing yourself as another shiver threatened to spasm your entire body. 'It's the last ten minutes. You should be clear in case it goes off.'

'I'm not going to do that.'

'Damnit, Spencer. Of all the times to be stubborn, you choose now?'

'I'm not being stubborn,' Spencer argued. Were you purposefully trying to tick him off now? 'I'm trying to save your life!'

'You're right, you're not being stubborn. You're being plain stupid,' you retorted. You weren't sure why you were suddenly so angry, you just didn't like him playing the hero when he didn't have to.

'Yes! I am stupid, I admit that. I'll announce that to the entire neighbourhood right now if you want me to! Because if it weren't for me being an idiot, you wouldn't have had those dates, you wouldn't have had a date tonight, and maybe you wouldn't be stuck standing on a bomb right now!'

You stared incredulously at Spencer. He blamed himself for your situation? For Riley?

Despite the bustling of people around them, everything grew silent as youO stared at one another, Spencer's chest heaving as he sucked in air hard.

'Spence,' you said softly, your anger suddenly dissipating. 'I don't blame you for any of this. I would've ended up on this bomb one way or another. Or even worse, it could've been you standing on it. And as for Riley...' You thought the tears would come up again like before, but your eyes remained dry, and your heart didn't pull harshly.

Not for Riley, anyways.

'Did something happen between you two?' Spencer tentatively asked. His tone bordered on concerned and hopeful, demonstrating his torn mindset to whatever you were about to say.

You nodded. 'I told him I had to go to work, which wasn't unusual, but he just flipped. Said he was sick of me choosing you guys over him and that he was finished.'

He hated himself for feeling the slightest bit happy at the news, but his best friend instincts kicked in, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you. 'I'm sorry. You could've said no. We would've understood-'

'Spencer, I will always choose you guys over anyone,' you interjected, and the complete seriousness on your face reflected your sincerity brighter than the full moon above. 'I will always choose you, Spence.'

It was then Spencer saw it: the same feeling he'd had swirling in his stomach for months reflected in your eyes. It scared him, but what scared him more was that it would all be gone soon if he didn't do anything about it.

He would be too late, just like Derek said.

The bomb squad lady and Emily walked up to them both, and Spencer did not like the grim expressions on their faces.

'I'm sorry,' the bomb squad lady said. 'It's the last five minutes. There's nothing else we can do but clear out of the blast zone.'

'What about the code?' Spencer pressed, but Emily shook her head.

'Reid, they've gotten nothing out of him. We've got to go.'

'But we can't just leave her here-'

'Trust me, Spencer, I don't want to either!' Emily cried, tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of you dying. 'But we can't do anything for her here. I've got the remote to input the code if they get another one, but until then, we've got to clear from the blast zone.'

'No.' Spencer shook his head vigourously. He couldn't accept this. He wouldn't accept this.

'Spencer,' you tried gently. 'It's okay. I can do the rest alone. I want you to be safe.'

'Well, too bad, because I'm staying.'

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears rushed down your cheeks. 'Damnit, Spencer. Please, just go. Don't make this harder than it already is.'

Spencer took a daring step towards you, the tops of his shoes dangling just over the edge of the pavement. 'I won't abandon you. Not again.'

You were most likely a blubbering mess, your heart hurting so much at the thought that he would get caught up in your mess. 'God, why don't you just leave-'

'Because I love you, (Y/n)!'

The four of you stood dumbfounded as his proclamation echoed through the yard, the house, the street back out the front. Hell, Spencer hoped the whole world heard what he said, because he felt free for the first time in months, weightless, powerful.

And it was all because of you.

'I love you,' he repeated again, softer this time. As the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, tears of his own sprouted in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He'd finally built up the courage to tell you, and you were minutes away from being blown up.

Through your tears, you find it in yourself to chuckle a little. It's watery and gross-sounding, but Spencer likes it none the less because it's yours, and you haven't lost complete hope. 'Talk about great timing, you big idiot.' And then there it is, that bright smile he saw day one in the office. You wore it with such pride, such strength it pulled at Spencer's heart strings painfully. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer Reid.'

'One minute,' the bomb squad lady said, her tone frantic now. 'We've got to move! Now!'

'Reid, come on!' Emily cried, backing up with the bomb squad.

'I won't abandon her,' he replied, never taking his eyes off you.

'Reid please!'

Before he could reply, though, his phone buzzed, and he immediately answered the call. 'Please tell me you go it.'

'HOME! The code word is HOME!'

'Punch in HOME!' Reid called out to Emily, keeping Derek on the line as he stared at you. If you were to die, he was gonna make damn sure the last thing you saw wasn't an unfamiliar face.

'Are you sure?'

'We're out of time! Do it!'

'Spence...' you muttered. But you never finished your sentence, as your breath got caught while watching Emily punch in the code into the device. You closed your eyes. Soon you would be in eternal darkness. You would not fear it, but embrace it.

But when nothing happened, you dared to sneak a peek at what was going on. You saw Spencer first, who looked at Emily, who looked at the device in her hands. The deathly silence was finally broken at the sound of a green light on the device switching on. You then heard a hundred tiny clicks somewhere underfoot and felt yourself being pushed up back onto level ground.

Spencer finally looked back to you, eyes blown wide with hope he dared not realise. That same hope fuelled your frozen, tired legs, to take the tiniest of steps forward, and when nothing happened, you took your other foot off the bomb and collapsed forward into Spencer's arms.

His heart pounded faster than the jet that flew them all over the country every week as he cradled you simultaneously gently and tightly. You sobbed into his chest, your arms circling around his back and pulling him as tight as possible.

Oh, how he had missed your touch, your affection, your love, you.

'It's okay, you're okay,' he soothed, patting your hair down with one hand while he cradled you with the other. 'I'm here. We're all here.' He realised suddenly he'd dropped his phone, and so with one hand, he reached down and picked it up, bringing it to his ear. 'She's off.'

He barely heard the cheers of excitement and relief on Derek's end before he was hanging up and helping you to your feet. After that, it was a whirlwind of the bomb squad excavating the bomb, paramedics arriving, and CSU investigating the house.

After giving his statement of events to the local police and finishing speaking to other officials, he found you wrapped in a trauma blanket in the open back of an ambulance.

'How are you feeling?' he said as he approached you.

You broke free of your own world to look at Spencer, and a soft smile managed its way onto your lips. 'Well, I can feel my legs again so that's a start. And you?'

'All the better now that you're not standing on a bomb.'

You chuckled, though a red tinge dusted your cheeks out of embarrassment. 'I must admit, it's true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes the moment before you die.'

'Really? What did you see?' Spencer had read articles about this kind of stuff before, but had never spoken with a person who'd experience it themselves.

You didn't answer straight away, instead standing up to face him fully. Your legs felt like jelly a little but you stood strong. 'I saw you,' you replied easily, as if breathing air. 'Only you.'

Spencer couldn't hold it back, his fear, his relief. It all came bubbling out in an ugly sob as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, pressing his face into your hair, using your scent to calm himself. He felt you sobbing too, how your body shook with your own anxieties.

'I missed you,' you said, your words muffled into his chest.

'I know, I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'I missed you, too.' He pulled you back slightly so that he could see your face. He wiped at your tears and forced his best smile just for you. 'But I'm back now. And I'm not going anywhere. That is... if you want me around.'

You heard his silent question, and it made you smile how confident and shy he could be simultaneously.

'Spencer Reid,' you murmured, like what you were about to say next was your biggest secret, 'of course I want you around. I love you.'

He chuckled with relief, tears still pricking at his eyes. But your words sealed your fate, as he used his small amount of confidence to grab the back of your neck gently and pull your lips to his.

You were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, and dare he compare you the most addictive drug he could ever hope to get high on. He couldn't get enough of you, and it was such a relief to finally let it out how much he needed you to breathe.

You were equally breathless, simultaneously feeling all consumed by Spencer's love without also having enough of it. Your fingers danced in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, threading yourself into him as much as possible. The truth was, the past four months were torturous.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

As you both finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together, nervous giggles of teenagers bubbling up in you both. This was fresh and new, but the love you had for one another had been there all along. No one was going anywhere.

'Finally!'

You and Spencer looked up to see the rest of the team watching from afar, with Emily and JJ smiling giddily, Derek and Rossi trying to suppress laughter, and Hotch having the simplest of grins on his lips.

'Oh, babygirl is going to have a field day when she hears about this,' Derek said, walking up to clap Spencer on the back and give him a hug. 'Well done, man.'

'It's about time,' Rossi said as the rest of the team joined you both. 'I thought I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.'

'Thank God you didn't,' Emily said, both her and JJ giving you a hug. 'As much as this has been traumatic for all of us, I'm so glad it brought you back together.'

'Say that to my poor legs,' you whined, but you hugged them just as tight. Truthfully, you felt the same. And as Reid held you in his arms that night, having refused to let you out of his sight after your brush with death, you couldn't be more grateful for it, too.

Your wedding was the next major point in his life that your words had impact.

The past five years leading up to your engagement had been some of the best and challenging in your life. There'd been many more close calls on both your lives since then - kidnappings, hostage situations, deadly viruses, the works. Even some romantic challenges that came in the form of other men and women.

But your bond ran deeper than superficial, petty spiffs. You always found your way back to one another, no matter how dark the road got. It was even on such a dark case that saw both you and Spencer on death row that he asked you. You'd both been captured and locked in a shipping container filled with no gaps for air and no way out. Before that, you'd copped a beating from your capture, forcing Spencer to watch all the while. Truthfully, it hadn't looked good, and that's why Spencer did it.

'What?' you asked deliriously, barely able to see straight no thanks to the lack of oxygen.

'I was planning on asking you... after this case,' Spencer admitted, his face mere centimetres from yours as he held you in a tight hug. He was breathless, running out of air and time it seemed. He had to do it now. 'Had it all planned out... We would go to that place on the hill we go to... a picnic all set out... and just as the sun would set, I'd ask you... and give you this.'

You would've gasped if you'd had enough air to do so, in utter shock to see Spencer pull out a simple gold band with a diamond embedded in it from in his pant pocket.

'I've had this for months... waiting for the... right time,' he managed to get out. 'It's my mothers. When I told her I wanted to marry you... she didn't even hesitate to give it to me.'

You were both weak, but he softly picked your left hand up and looked you dead in the eye. 'This might be it for us, but it also might not. Either way, I want to be yours for whatever time we have left. So, (Y/n) (L/n)... will you marry me?'

The tears that trekked down your face actually cleared your vision enough to see Spencer's smile clearly as you answered, 'Yes. I will marry you.'

Either some higher being was looking out for you that day, or your team was just really good at their job (Spencer never doubted them for a moment), but the team found you both in time, both unconscious and barely breathing, but hand in hand, with yours suddenly bejewelled.

Since then it had been a flurry of work and wedding arrangements and stress over the next seven months. Many speculated you were pregnant and that's why you and Spencer rushed the wedding. The truth was you just didn't want to wait any longer than you had to, not being in your line of work. Any day could be your last, so why waste it.

Spencer messed with the tie of his navy blue suit for the hundredth time as he stood waiting under the arch of flowers in the backyard of Rossi's mansion for you. He wasn't nervous, just... ansty, like he had ants in his pants and wanted to get out of them as soon as possible. But he couldn't deny he was just as excited for this day as you were. All of your friends and family dressed up, no case, no killer, nothing but what dessert they were going to have at the reception to worry about.

'Hey pretty boy,' Derek said, coming up behind him and clapping a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. 'Stop messing with it. You look fine.'

'I know, I just...' Spencer couldn't put into words what he was feeling, not as he stared at his good friend - his best man. Even though Derek had left the BAU, Spencer and him still spoke regularly, and he was more than happy to be there for his best bud at arguably the most important day of his life.

Derek smiled knowingly, straightening Spencer's tie because that's what the best man did for the groom. 'She loves you, Spencer. You've got nothing to worry about.'

'I'm not worried. I just...' He felt the tears already coming on and he hadn't even seen you yet. You were probably even more gorgeous than you already were. God he couldn't wait to marry you.

'I get it, man,' Derek said, and then the piano started playing a soft, whimsical tune that was so you and he stepped back into place. 'Show time, pretty boy.'

Spencer straightened himself up, told himself to hold the tears back. This was not a sad day, but a joyous one. But his breath was stolen the moment the doors of Rossi's mansion opened, after Emily, JJ and Penelope walked through, and you walked out into the backyard on your father's arm.

Your gown was simple, accentuating your body like the goddess you were. Your (h/c) locks were styled to perfection, hidden barely by the thin veil that fell like morning mist over your face. You held your favourite flowers in your hands, the glint of your engagement ring shining as bright as the sun that shone upon the whole ceremony.

By the time you reached him, Spencer was about ready to rip your veil off, kiss the living daylights out of you and runaway. But he resisted, instead waiting patiently for your dad to flip your veil up, and for you to hand over your bouquet to JJ, your maid of honour. When you finally turned to face him, he could've cried. You were so beautiful. And we was marrying you today.

You reached out to him, and he was more than glad to clasp your hands at last.

'Hi,' you whispered, a nervous but excited smile twitching your lips.

'Hi,' he whispered back, the threat of tears burning the back of his eyes again. 'You are gorgeous.'

'Thanks. You look handsome.'

'It's a wonder what a whole eight hours sleep and showering more than once a week can do.'

He was so glad to hear your laugh. It calmed his nerves, and apparently yours calmed too, as your hands no longer shook in his.

'All right, everyone,' Rossi started, stepping up to minister the ceremony. 'Let's get this started.'

The boring, ceremonious stuff went by quickly and soon you were reciting your vows. You'd both wanted to write your own vows for each other - agreeing that the usual script was not enough to express your love for one another, and what you would do to protect that love.

Reid went first.

'(Y/n),' he began, staring you straight in your eyes. He'd written his speech over and over again, but once he found the right words, it only took him a matter of seconds to memorise them. Forever. 'I've always been told I was different. Gifted, special. Being different helped me get this job, this family-' he turned to his friends, who watched them with bright smiles and teary eyes. 'But it also got me in trouble, held me back from experiencing... normal things like friendship, even love. So much so, that I started to believe... I was unworthy of love.'

You squeezed his hands, hearing the stutter in his words, the built up emotion that threatened to consume him. He gratefully squeezed back, grateful to know he was not alone, that he would never be alone from this day forth.

'But from the day I met you, you've shown me that I can be myself and be worthy of love. Theoretically, we shouldn't work. Despite popular opinion, studies have shown that people from different backgrounds, with different interests and completely different personality traits are less likely to feel attracted to one another than people with similar backgrounds, interests and personalities.'

'Come on, Reid. You really want people to sleep through your wedding?' Derek asked, prompting you and the rest of the guests to burst into laughter.

'I have a point,' he countered, and waited for the laughter to die down before resuming his vows. 'And while I usually rely on statistics and facts to make informed decisions about my life, from the day that I met you, you turned my entire world upside, inside out... and I didn't care. Because despite knowing almost everything there is to know about, well, everything, you are the one thing that has and always will make sense to me.'

He saw you trying to hold back tears, so he let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek where some tears rolled down. He swiped them away gently with his thumb without ruining your makeup, the most handsome, beautiful smile you'd ever seen on his lips.

'I love you, (Y/n) (L/n). I have loved you since we first met, at every case, at every movie night, every time you made me coffee. I love how you find the light amidst the darkness, how you give yourself completely to everyone you meet. I love the crinkle in your forehead every time you get mad at me. I love all of you, and I don't have to promise you that I will stay by your side through it all for the rest of our lives. You have had me since day one, and that will never change, even in death. But before that final day comes, I look forward to making the most of what time we have left loving you.'

The guests clapped so loudly that he almost didn't hear your soft sobs. But he did, and he pulled you into a quick hug before you pulled yourself away.

'Oh my goodness, I just want to kiss you,' you admitted quietly to him, bringing laughter out of him. But you quickly pulled your self away, using your free hand to grab an A4-sized piece of paper from JJ and return to face Spencer.

'Unfortunately, I don't have an eidetic memory so I will be using some assistance for this next bit,' you joked, stopping your flow of tears briefly as everyone chuckled, appreciative for the break in overwhelming emotions. Spencer breathed in deeply, steadying his heartbeat as much as possible. His part was done, but he knew this next part would be the hardest to retain composure.

'Spencer,' you began, one hand shakily holding your vows, while the other gripped onto Spencer like your life depended on it. In a sense, after today, it would. 'From the moment I first met you, I knew you were special. That you would leave a mark on my life in one form or another. Some sad part of me sometimes thought it would be when you inevitably shot yourself because you couldn't pass your marksman test after three goes-' Cue Spencer looking to Hotch apologetically while the rest of the guests laughed. '-or because, in our line of work, any day could be our last, and I wouldn't rule out any psychopaths intervening with that. However, despite it all, you're still here, and I couldn't be more thankful that you are. You amaze me everyday, Spencer - with your knowledge of the world, your intellectual insight, how you are almost incapable of growing any substantial amount of facial hair.'

You were glad people were laughing now, because what you were about to say next was going to take all your composure not to fall apart.

'But it is your heart and your ability to connect with people that has captured me completely. Our story has been... unconventional, to put it plainly. We were colleagues first, then friends, then you became my best friend, and I thought I couldn't be happier than that. But maybe it has something to do with some chemicals in the brain that are stimulated when you hang around someone you admire and adore long enough - you know, science stuff - or fate. I don't necessarily believe in either, but I do believe in us, Spencer. I believe that we are two souls choosing to become one for the rest of our lives; I believe you are my person, and the one I choose to face each and everyday with; I believe we haven't overcome all that we have for nothing; and I am not the least bit surprised it took nearly getting blown up to admit how I truly feel about you.'

Spencer couldn't care that what you said about brain chemicals was technically incorrect, it was so you, and there was not a dry eye in the backyard as you looked up at him finally, sheet long forgotten, and (e/c) eyes shining bright with tears and love.

'I love you, Spencer Reid,' you said breathlessly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 'You have experienced the worst of humanity over and over again, and yet here you stand with me, smiling, happy, choosing to believe in happy endings. You are a wonder - my wonder - and I can't wait to spend everyday from now loving you, and being wowed by you. From now... until I cannot breathe, and even then beyond.'

You gave the paper back to JJ, then returned your full attention to Spencer. It was like it was only you two, the clapping from your guests dulled as well as Rossi's final words. But Spencer didn't miss a beat when he heard him say, 'By the power vested in me and my online-approved minister credentials, I pronounce you husband and wife. Go on kids, you've earned it.'

Spencer swooped you into the sweetest, loving kiss he could muster, gently cradling your neck and cheeks as your lips met in a soft collision. It wasn't lustful (that would certainly come later), but it was consuming, like two forces being pulled together by a magnet. You were separate entities choosing to become one, and it made you smile through your kiss and for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.

You both partied with your family and friends, but you always managed to find your way back to one another despite the chaos. He now cradled you gently as you swayed together on the dance floor, fatigue settling in. You held each other up as you did, content to just be with each other in the final moments of your special day. Emily, your new section chief, had ordered you both take two weeks off to celebrate your honey moon. Because God knew when the next time you'd be able to relax would be when you both came back to work.

You shifted in his arms, manoeuvring yourself to look up at him, a delirious, tired and happy smile adorning your pretty lips. 'I love you, Spencer Reid.'

He leaned in for a brief but loving kiss before saying, 'I love you, (Y/n) Reid.'

Something about how his last named paired with your first name sounded that warmed him inside. The same feeling lit up in your eyes, but maybe that was just the happy tears that formed there, too.

'We're the Reids now,' you whispered in disbelief, probably due to the amount of alcohol you had consumed throughout the day. 'You're my husband!'

'Yes I am,' he murmured, pulling you back to his chest to lay your head. 'Forever and always.'

The last time he heard you say those special words was the day you said goodbye.

It wasn't until you fell pregnant with your first child that you found a proper house to live in. You'd been content with the studio apartment you'd found and moved into one year into your relationship, but when you fell pregnant, Spencer knew you would need a bigger space. One that you could call your own and make a home out of.

Your forever home.

Surprisingly, it hadn't taken long to find something: a nice rustic, two-storey house on the outskirts of DC. It was in a nice neighbourhood , far enough out of the city to be quiet, but close enough you could both get to work quick enough in case of an emergency. The moment you'd laid eyes on it, you fell in love with it, and Spencer knew without question this would be where you brought your family up.

He traipsed through the house with two cups of tea. Coffee had started to disagree with him after he quit the BAU, as if that were the only place he needed it. Teaching and guest lecturing at all the local universities was nowhere near the stress level of the BAU, and so he'd switched to tea. Somehow, in his (as he called it) pre-retirement, it tasted sweeter.

You had stepped down from being a profiler at the BAU after your third child was born, realising that with a four and two year old waiting outside the birth suite to meet their baby brother, you couldn't risk leaving your three babies without a mother. And while leaving the BAU, your home of close to twenty years, wrought a grief out of you that was close to unbearable, you knew it was the right decision and right time.

And you soon found a love for writing - fiction, non-fiction, poetry, it didn't matter. What you'd experienced in your career as a profiler had changed you, and sometimes writing it out made it less haunting, it gave you closure. You went on book tours, consulted on scholarly and literary journals, you even were brought into Spencer's classrooms to guest lecture from time to time.

All the while building and loving the family both of you had always dreamed of.

Spencer smiled at the dusty pictures that lined the walls, of the faces of his children and grandchildren smiling back him. Of the faces of friends old and new, of ghosts he used to know from a time long gone. Sometimes he hardly recognised himself in those pictures. He wasn't the vain type, but when he looked at himself in his 20's and 30's, he couldn't help the yearning that pulled at his heart when he did.

He compared those youthful pictures against his present day, laughing at the barely existent grey stubble he now sported, of the white hair that curled and stood up in any and all directions, of the glasses he now permanently had to wear. You always said he looked sexier with glasses, anyways, so he didn't mind.

Those pictures were his memory, his legacy, his life. When he felt his brain burning, when his memory became a bit too fuzzy, he could always look at the pictures and find solace in how those moments would live on in the people he loved.

'Spence?'

Your voice prompted him to keep moving, to let go of the past and remain in the present. He wandered through the rest of the house to the backyard, where two garden chairs sat either side of a coffee table, looking over the yard. The gardens were filled with flowers of all shapes and colours. He wasn't a nature guy by any means, but Spencer wanted you to have something to look after other than him or the children, something you could be proud of when you were much older. So he'd planted it himself (okay, he needed help from Derek), filling it with flowers that expressed all the wonderful qualities he loved about you.

There was a small gardening shed in the back, a quaint barbecue/entertainment area to one side, and a build-your-own playground just sitting on the lawn. He found you sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, staring out at the yard contently. He placed both cups of tea on the table before taking his own seat in the other chair.

'Do you remember how Jason used to carry Diana on his back up the slide?' you asked gently, a fond smile cracking your dry lips at the memory of your children playing on the very same playground their children now played on when they visited. 'You always got so scared they would fall and hurt themselves.'

'Isn't that our job?' he asked, taking a sip of his tea. 'To worry for our children?'

'You didn't have to be a helicopter parent, though,' you jibed playfully. 'You got better when Aaron was old enough to climb himself, so I can't berate you for that.'

'Speaking of which, Aaron just called, said him, Rachel and the kids want to invites us to dinner on Friday.'

You turned and smiled at him, but he saw how tired you were. It was in the slight droop in your lips when you smiled, it was in the slouch of your shoulders, it was the way you held out your hand for him to grasp and you could barely squeeze him back. You'd been like this for days, and it broke Spencer's heart to see the love of his life slowly fade away right beside him. He knew it was a natural way of life - considering their previous occupations, he was grateful to be even given the chance to grow old with you.

But despite natural law and despite his many blessings, it didn't dull the ache that grew more painful everyday.

'You don't have to be here, Spence,' you said, voice barely above a whisper, like it was just a secret only you two shared. 'You've seen enough death already.'

Spencer placed his cup on the table before getting out of his chair (a feat he struggled withe everyday now, his BAU days finally catching up to him) and walking around to your side, bringing both his hands to clasp yours as he knelt beside you.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he said, willing every ounce of sincerity and love into his words, into his hands as he held your frail ones. 'Forever and always, remember?'

Spencer almost broke down when your eyes locked with his, those shining (e/c) orbs sparkling with life and mischief and wonder. Despite what time had done to you, you were still his (Y/n), his best friend, his partner, his lover and saviour.

You nodded as if to say yes, I do remember. I always will. You pull one hand free of his grip, and use it to cradle his wrinkled cheeks. 'We've lived a good life, haven't we, Spence?'

He pulled one hand away to caress your hand on his cheek, holding it there for as long as he could. 'Yes. Yes we have.'

Your eyes scanned over him, suddenly seeing your life in rewind.

You saw him as he was now, white, Einstein hair, wrinkled skin and glasses. Then with only little streaks of white in his hair, more sleek. That's how he was with the kids. You kept going back, to your wedding, to your engagement, to the first time you kissed. Every movie night, every case, every late night in the office. Until you were seeing him as if for the first time. Kind of dorky, kind of sweet, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to explain to you how his "physics magic" worked that very first day in the office.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time as well, as you smiled your bright smile like you did on that first day. The smile you had smiled for him every day since. The smile he saw in your children, and then your grandchildren.

'You are a true wonder, Spence,' you whispered softly, using what little strength you had left to squeeze the hand that still clasped yours as if to say thank you. 'My wonder.'

He waited for the lump in his throat to form, for the words to get stuck in his throat like they always did before. But the lump never formed, and so the words flowed like water out of him, finally feeling right.

'And you are mine,' he whispered back, smiling as bright as he could for you as he held you. 'You always have been my wonder.'

You bring his lips to yours one last time before dropping your hand from his face and sitting back in your seat, looking more tired than you'd ever been. But your other hand still held his, and he certainly wasn't going to let you go. Not yet.

'Spence,' you wheezed, eyes struggling to stay open on him.

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, using his now free hand to stroke your grey hair in soothing motions. 'It's okay. You can rest now. I'll join you soon enough.'

The slight dip of your chin let him know you understood, and soon after you closed your eyes, your hand grew slack in his hold and your chest ceased rising.

You were gone.

And he was still here.

It was only then did Spencer allow the tears to fall, to acknowledge that despite both of your acceptances, he was sad. You'd lived good, long lives, and even then Spencer believed it was not enough time to love all of you. He knew it was selfish, but he figured after all he'd been through he would be allowed this one wish.

He held you for another hour before he called your children to notify them of your passing.

He held on for another year before he joined you. Cause of death: a broken heart.

He was buried beside you in the family lot, and on your joint headstone, it wrote:

Here lies Dr. Spencer Reid and Mrs. (Y/n) Reid. Loving Husband and Wife and Parents. "You truly are a wonder."

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genericpuff · 6 months

Text

The Extended Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Finale Premiere

Alright, so I had mentioned leading up to the release of the newest LO episode that my feelings regarding LO returning were pretty "meh". Not hyped, but not completely back of mind either. Just sort of a weird calm before the storm type feeling that could go either way.

I'm glad I got to have that moment of calmness because good god, this episode was an absolute shitshow. And honestly, I'm not surprised, for several reasons:

Rachel has never been good at maintaining a buffer, even back at the start of the series she only ever had 2-3 episodes ready ahead of her schedule which is NOT an ideal buffer for an originals series.

Rachel has never been good at writing, she's very "draw first write later" and has stated as such in interviews that when she gets 'stuck' on what she's writing, she'll just start drawing and fit the pieces in later.

Four months is NOT enough time to both rest, attend massive conventions, and work on improving a project while also getting buffer episodes ready.

Because of the FP episodes remaining locked over the hiatus, technically Rachel only needed to have ONE episode ready upon return for the newest FP release, not multiple like she'd usually need like in the past during the S2 midseason hiatus or the season finale episodes which would unlock those FP releases like normal - so for all we know, she could have drawn this episode literally last week, especially when the promo material was so last minute. Frankly I think it was REALLY stupid for whoever it was who decided to keep these FP episodes locked (whether it was her or WT, it was more likely WT) but you can read all I have to say about that in my review of the midseason finale episodes.

All that's to say, no, there was never any guarantee Rachel was going to somehow "turn around" the ride we're currently on. I know that many of the critics were hoping for that to happen, but with the circumstances of the hiatus mixed with Rachel's bad habits of putting her best efforts into the procrastination projects that aren't her actual comic (ex. the few original pieces and LO sketches she put out during the hiatus) it just wasn't in the cards. This is where the comic is at and this is where it will remain until it's over.

I want to also point something out about this episode that was... really glaring to me.

As with all of these hiatus returns, LO got priority advertising in the first two banner slots and push notifications AND a popup ad within the app. This is unsurprising, Webtoons is still trying to milk this thing for what it's worth.

I know a lot of people are gonna focus on the art, or the fact that WT is continuing to shill LO, but I wanna point out the part that WT implemented specifically - "NEW SEASON".

This is literally just false. At best I'd like to think some intern just messed up and thought this was a new season, but it's literally not, the episode designation still says "S3". Note that the creators only design the banner art, the actual labels on top are put there by Webtoons.

But at worst, this feels like blatant lying to continue to hide the fact that LO is ending. Mind you, Rachel and Webtoons have still not put out official posts stating that this is the final arc. There is NOTHING from either of them to communicate to the audience that the comic is ending next year. It feels like they're trying to avoid the topic altogether out of fear of losing the fanbase they still have, rather than hyping up the comic's end for those who have stuck around to see how it all wraps up. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, considering they're now trying to funnel the fanbase into Penguin/Inklore with new marketing deals and the whole Rachel Smythe Presents thing. They're trying to make this seem like the beginning of something "new" when it's really just a quiet shifting of management (Penguin House).

But all that aside, let's actually get into the episode. It's one episode after 4 months, which is not standard for LO's hiatuses, typically FP episodes release on schedule (meaning free readers start hiatuses 3 weeks after FP readers do), the only time this has been an exception has been with the 2 week breaks because the whole point of those was to build a buffer (which you can't do if you're going ahead and releasing the FP episodes anyways). For extended hiatuses like these, usually free readers still get their FP episodes, but that wasn't the case here. That means Rachel technically only needed one episode ready for the comic's return, and it shows. It really fucking shows.

FROM HERE ON OUT THERE WILL BE FASTPASS SPOILERS REGARDING EPISODE 254. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED !!!

As per tradition, we get a title that means nothing at all. It just says what we already know.

Our collective husband Zeus is dying, no thanks to the poison cupcake fed to him by Apollo. For those who don't remember, Apollo had tricked Zeus into eating the cupcake by making him believe it was from Hebe. We are fully aware that it was Apollo who poisoned him. Remember that for later in this review.

Right off the bat we're off to a hilarious start, both with a cryptid appearance from Apollo in the background (lmao) who is, for some reason, ALREADY returning to the scene of the crime he just committed because... who knows at this point. Apollo and Psyche know it was Apollo at this point, I might add, but I have no clue why Apollo is actually returning to the scene of the crime when he has no idea Eros and Psyche know.

Moving on from that, can we talk about this hilarious dialogue?

"We have to call a doctor! Let's call Asclepius!"

"No, we can't trust him! Gosh darn it, why are we only bothering to think of ONE doctor in this universe where we've seen more than one doctor?? Guess Zeus is just gonna die! What a horribly contrived situation this is!"

And that's literally how I can best describe most of this episode. Contrived. There is a LOT of manufactured drama in this that makes ZERO sense even on a surface level.

And what do you mean exactly, Eros? "What a terrible system!" Is this supposed to be a joke? Lampshading? We've seen Persephone go to the gynecologist. There are non-god doctors who tend to gods all the time here.

Eros just doesn't seem to be that pressed over this, he sounds like Ned Flanders and that's NOT a good way to open up a scene like this... let alone an episode people have been waiting four months for.

Anyways, after a few pointless reaction panels (again remember I have to cut a lot of what I show here for Tumblr image limitations but I promise you, I'm keeping as much important stuff as I can in this, there's just THAT MUCH filler at this point), Eros and Psyche confront Apollo and he is... good god.

There is... so much to unpack here.

First of all, remember those theories about how Rachel was clearly trying to write Apollo as this "secret twist villain" the whole time but it doesn't work because Apollo is simultaneously written as both a 'conniving villain' and a massive dumbass at the same time?

Well, I finally have a more appropriate term for him. He's your average red pill redditor - someone who thinks he's smarter than everyone else when really all he does is sit on reddit all day using big words incorrectly in arguments he gets himself into with a bunch of equally-air-headed dumbasses.

"You can't possibly understand the nuances of the Olympian political system," Apollo said proudly, a man who had, ironically and obliviously, run for president in a monarchy. The union of kettle and pot is eternal.

He's the Slappable Jerk but instead of it being a painfully hilarious impression, it's just painful and hilarious for all the wrong reasons.

this is so stupid because it's 1.) Eros pointing out how obvious Apollo's plan was, despite Apollo acting smart two seconds ago with a goddess who, mind you, has been a goddess for ten years, and 2.) patricide isn't even intrinsically linked to politics, there's nothing 'political' about a guy trying to kill his dad except in, idk, a monarchy, which again, Apollo has spent ten years trying to rise to power in as a president which is a completely different form of government.

If I wanted to be really granular with this, I'd like to think Apollo is making some kind of point about the critics who call out LO's whack as fuck political system (especially in the trial arc) - as if he's saying "well you're just a stupid reader and this is fantasy where you don't understand exactly what political system we're using, so shut the fuck up you stupid twig" - but I don't think it's meant to be that deep. I think it's just Rachel trying to write a smart character and then failing at it because she, herself, is not a smart writer. And I'm really inclined to believe that more than the theory about this being some kind of meta-narrative about the critics because this entire plotline is contrived and stupid down to its core.

I did not cut anything out here, that's the pacing. Leto literally just appears out of nowhere and uh oh spaghettio's, she has Kassandra! Remember Leto? The character we were led to believe was truly "pulling the strings" until she disappeared from the story completely after she realized that Apollo and Persephone weren't a thing, even going so far as to call out her own son for being a fucking dumbass? Well, she's back and once again she's being involved as some kind of "double agent" in this whole thing, even though we literally haven't seen her since halfway through S2.

"Mm yes, you're so stupid, falling into my trap! Even though you had no reason to remember Kassandra anyways because she's literally a mortal woman you just met and you yourself have committed acts of violence against mortals without a shred of care! I'm so smart! My plan is all coming together!"

We've never seen Apollo do anything except cry and poop his pants, the closest he got to being "powerful" was his attempts to murder Daphne (who he seems to have forgotten about in this "master plan" of his) but ultimately he's literally just a piss ant baby and there's no reason to believe that he could somehow outmatch the God of Love who can literally manipulate people's emotions and states of mind with his arrows. But yeah sure go off, you're so powerful and smart.

The worst part is, I can't even buy this as the narrative trying to be like "see how manipulative and conniving he is?" because it's just silly. We've SEEN this man cry with his victim complex, we've seen him say and do the DUMBEST things that don't lend to any amount of "intelligence" he may have, it comes across less as him being "smart the whole time" and more as him trying to sound smart but ultimately sounding incredibly stupid. And I can't even immerse myself into it and buy that maybe that's the point, because it doesn't feel like the point, it just feels like inconsistent writing, he doesn't feel like a 'threat', he's just monologuing.

Bad art and Apollo literally just repeating what Leto already implied so this is a waste of the audience's time.

This is the funniest panel in the whole episode because I can't tell if Apollo is supposed to be in the background (for some reason, despite him literally being in front of Eros and Psyche two seconds ago) or if he's in the foreground and just REALLY small for some reason. This is so off-putting. And of course, it's just Apollo explaining what we're ALREADY SEEING ONSCREEN.

You see, in addition to this episode being contrived, it also talks down to its audience a LOT by explaining exactly what we're seeing onscreen. It's like Rachel saw the criticisms about her not including enough to depict what's actually going on in her head and so she thought the solution was to spoon feed information over pictures that are already doing the job of explaining what's going on. Rachel really doesn't know how to write and even when she tries to implement changes that reflect criticisms that have been made of her writing, she somehow makes things worse because she completely misses the point of what those criticisms are trying to get across.

Anyways, without even trying to resist (for some reason) Eros and Psyche get sentenced to horny jail.

They're now trapped in a basement that Leto somehow has in her home. How do we know that?

HAHAHA FUNNY LAMPSHADING SO FUNNNYYYYYYY

Leto claims that they shouldn't try to escape because the dungeon is "enchanted", but she doesn't even bother to explain what that means. So they literally don't bother trying. They don't try to call her bluff, they don't try to teleport out of there, they literally just go "well shoot", shrug their shoulders, and accept their fate. Just like with the whole "we can't trust the only doctor we bothered to think of" situation, Eros and Psyche are turning out to be some of the stupidest, lowest-effort characters in this comic who literally can't be bothered to try because that would require too much brain power.

Notice how much time we've spent on this and we haven't gotten back to where the cliffhanger of the last episode left off? Well buckle up because there's still more to cover.

So it turns out Hebe was still inside with her dad, in FULL VIEW of what was going on through glass which is somehow COMPLETELY soundproof, and when Apollo steps inside, she just has no idea what happened. She never bothered to even look outside to see what was going on with Eros and Psyche, she's just been sitting on the floor staring at Zeus' dead face for what was likely several minutes, unless Rachel is seriously trying to convince us that conversation and hostage negotiation from earlier only took 2 seconds. The timeline is such a mess at this point that characters basically freeze in place as soon as they're not the focus of the scene.

Apollo rushes inside, acting shocked over the situation, and when Hebe asks where Eros and Psyche are (again, she could have just looked out the window at any time), he's just like "dur idk they just left lol" which Hebe just... buys, I guess.

That's just Persephone but yellow. She's even missing her beauty mark.

See how Apollo put his hand on Zeus' chest/shoulder by the way?

Apparently, despite Mr. Smarter Than Everyone Else trying to pretend it wasn't him, he's able to discern that Zeus is dying from a toxic and rare poison just from touching him. He doesn't even really seem to use his powers, he just touches him and goes "welp he's dead i guess lol don't bother asking me how I know that".

But oh nooo remember that note from before? Well gasp Apollo's gonna use it to frame Hebe! In front of no one else at all!

Hebe of course says she didn't write it, but Apollo continues to try and frame her anyways, even though, again, there's no one else present here, and so it effectively just becomes the most absurd form of gaslighting I've ever seen.

Again, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE IN THE SCENE. He's just trying to claim she did it to absolutely no one at all, in the hopes of... what exactly? That she'll just take the fall for something she knows she didn't do? That she'll somehow be convinced? It's not like Hebe has the same thing going on as Persephone where she has a 'wrathful dark side' he could pin it on, this is just a criminal who just robbed a building pointing at the first person they see and yelling "YOU DID IT!"

All I'm saying is that Apollo would be really bad at Among Us. He'd be the type of player to kill someone, hit the report button, then claim yellow did it which, even if he DID convince the rest of the team, would still get kicked anyways as soon as yellow was proven through the eject to not be the imp and everyone would go "okay cool so yellow wasn't the imp, that means obviously it's purple self-reporting." It's a trick that doesn't even work anymore because of how old it is. Hebe isn't a child here, she's an 18 year old woman who should be fully capable of raising an eyebrow and wondering why Apollo is this quick to accuse her - almost like he's trying to hide the fact that he did it.

But Hebe can't catch onto this, just like Eros and Psyche, she has to act stupid for the sake of the plot.

At first I thought maybe Rachel was trying to do some "whodunit" scenario, but that doesn't work here because we already know who did it. And while there are stories that exist like that that pull it off (ex. Knives Out) the problem with trying to do this the way Rachel did is that the person being framed has to have this thing called motive. The reason why Knives Out and Glass Onion work so well is because the person who was murdered (or conspired against) is someone who is being targeted by multiple people who could all be the murderer. It's quite literally called out in Glass Onion as a form of smart lampshading. "It's like putting a loaded gun on the table, and turning off the lights."

But it doesn't work here because Hebe does not have motive. If you're going to attempt to frame a murder on someone, it has to be someone who would have reasonable motive to commit that murder, even if they didn't actually commit it.

And who among Zeus' children has motive?

What about the war-mongering bloodthirsty god of war who has been regularly sentenced to time in the Mortal Realm to fight in wars in which he's been regularly injured?

What about the chaos-seeking wrathful goddess who would do it to get revenge on the parental figure who cast her aside, or even just for the fun of saying she did it?

Why try and pin it on Hebe, the doting daughter of Zeus who's only had a collective of maybe 20 panels in the entire comic?

But then I realized... it's not Knives Out, it's the fucking Lion King.

Which is just as contrived - if not more - than the assumption this was gonna be some attempt to frame Hebe. It's not. He's literally just trying to keep her from assuming it was him. He could have just as easily played dumb without calling attention to the note but he intentionally went out of his way to try and be Scar from The Lion King , while completely missing the point of why that scene worked in the original movie.

Scar wasn't trying to 'frame' Simba for Mufasa's murder. He was trying to hide the murder, while also attempting to get the only heir to the throne out of the picture, so he passed the guilt of the death onto Simba - a child who, unlike Hebe, wouldn't have the ability to rationalize or realize his uncle his a scumbag - who then ran away from home because he was too terrified to face his family for what happened, assuming that it was all his fault when it wasn't.

That's not how this is panning out here. Hebe is the now 18 year old daughter of Zeus, and not one of his only children. She doesn't even fit into the whole "sons overthrowing their fathers" prophecy like Aries would. Apollo is literally just being a big idiot here by saying "well I'm gonna give you a headstart to run away, because if you stay, I might hurt you" (which btw, should be MORE of a smoking gun that Apollo did it??)

And again, it's all so contrived so that the plot can move forward. "Well I'm going to frame you for this murder, but y'know, you should just leave, I'm not gonna try and press it further lmao"

Again, Apollo is a fucking idiot here, because he just attempted to frame someone who has NO MOTIVE to harm Zeus, to absolutely NO ONE at all who would side with him, only to let her go which would leave her to question why Apollo would try to accuse and harm her in the first place before considering other options. And through ALL this he claims he's the smart one, which I can't even be bothered to "love to hate" because it's written so poorly.

And really it all comes down to how everyone else behaves in relation to Apollo that makes it so stupid and unbelievable. Apollo, you're not smart just because all the characters around you are intentionally being written to be as stupid and non-confrontation as possible. If you can only write a smart villain by making everyone else stupid, you haven't written a smart villain, you've written a dumbass whose victory only happens due to contrived plot convenience. It's not even done well like in Glass Onion, it's just bad writing, full stop.

And who does he call to report this emergency? The satyr police? His son the doctor?

No.

The media. Literally just "hello, the media?? I need your best journalist here stat!"

I need you to understand, even if he were calling a tabloid magazine like The Weekly Nark, you don't just... call a journalist to report a murder. These are not the actions of someone who's trying to absolve himself of guilt, these are the actions of a complete dumbass trying to get news coverage of his trophy kill who would be better off just playing dumb instead of trying to play smart. Even Walter White wasn't this fucking stupid despite all the times he fell on his own sword, Apollo is literally just instigating suspicion towards himself for no reason at all. He's self-reporting so hard and worst of all, you can't even take any of this seriously because of how corny it is. There's no dramatic tension, no stakes, it's just a bunch of characters performing in a really bad stage play and reducing every conflict to "well I guess Zeus is just dead now because no one's bothering to make an effort to stop Apollo or ask questions lmao"

It's truly the epitome of "this plot wouldn't exist if characters would just talk to each other."

But finally, FINALLY we mention the thing this episode is named after, the transition point to Persephone.

Just like with the midseason finale episode, there's a lot to cover here, so I'm gonna get more into it in a part two post.

That said, you can see already this is the messiest, most contrived bullshit to ever wind up in LO. It's trying so hard to be smart and it just comes across as a bunch of toddlers in the world's worst stage play rendition of Clue. None of what was done here was in any way dramatic or tense, it's just a bunch of characters infodumping shit we already know, trying to set up new plot threads that don't make any sense, and allowing one another to get away with what they're doing because they don't bother to even try.

It's completely manufactured, contrived nonsense. It's not "smart", it's not "so dumb it's brilliant", it's just dumb.

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#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #this is the comic that bought two eisners #uh i mean *won* two eisners #... no wait i had it right the first time lmao

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insomniac-101 · 1 year

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So something that I often don't see people discuss is the manner in which the 9th and the 10th doctor's seasons are so intrinsically connected that it is almost impossible to understand a lot of key character arcs if you choose to skip it upon rewatch. The reason why I say this is because the moment you reach season 2, 10 is essentially the product of the development 9 achieves at the end of his season. To skip him, would mean that you also miss context as to the reason why Rose is so important and in turn, not understand the reason why their bond in particular is such a big part of the plot during the 10th's era.

Now bare with me, because I'm about to go off a bit lmao.

The first season of nuwho not only serves as an introduction to many of the key characters we see later on, such as: the Doctor, Rose, Jackie, Jack, Mickey, Harriet jones, etc. but it also serves as an introduction for the concept of the series as a whole. Prior to this, doctor who as a franchise had a reputation of being a geeky sci-fi show with no real wide spread appeal. Remaining as a niche interest to many, up until the reboot returned and reintroduced the show to a newer audience.

This is important to note because this is one of the main reasons why we see such a huge emphasis placed on the companions' lives in the reboot. Because RTD meant to expand the world of Doctor who and its audience, and by doing so, he strived to try a multitude of new plots that were otherwise never explored previously. This is why the romantic plotline of his season is so crucial to the story itself because he means to explore a facet of humanity not previously seen with the Doctor as a character. RTD essentially built this plot line from scratch, as the only other attempt at exploring such an angle was received negatively (The 8th Doctor's movie). So there's a degree of leniency that I give his writing In particular because like I said prior, he had no prior reference for exploring humanity to the degree in which the new series does.

The ninth doctor, when we meet him, is essentially a recluse. He is in a state of stagnation, implied to have been alone for some time after the war and it gives off the impression that he's no longer accustomed to being around people. He's often direct, rudely so and very standoffish to anyone that isn't immediately measuring up to his standards. This isn't to say that he isn't charming in his own way. He's sarcastic and when he tries, he can actually be very good with people. But the war still weighs heavily on his conscious and so, he views the world through the eyes of a soldier. Prioritizing the act of surviving rather than slowing down and actually taking the time to live life.

I mean, the man essentially meets Rose while blowing up her workplace and if that isn't concerning on its own merit than I don't know what is lmao.

A scene that sticks out to me the most about him in particular is when he looks at himself in the mirror for the first time. He notes that he has big ears, and from the manner in which he says it the implication that he perhaps has not seen himself in a long time is not lost to us. This coupled with the knowledge that he had indeed been seen traveling prior to meeting Rose, gives the phrase a more dark connotation that makes sense for his character.

I like to think that this indicates that the guilt of what he did to stop the war weighs so heavily on him that he could never bring himself to face his reflection. Because truly, to have gone so long without seeing yourself, not even in the reflection of a window or other surface is not something that is easy to do. Rather, it is something you have to go out of your way to do. Also it's important to note that his appearance is in fact a reflection of that weariness he feels. With his body, being older outwardly (appearing 40ish ) and his features being very sharp and serious. Even his hair is pretty short, much like how a soldier would keep it as a means of not wasting any time on worrying on something so inconvenient. His preference for darker colors and his constant outfit is also very noticably practical, not at all decorative like his prior bodies. This is purposeful, because it is what sets him apart from prior versions of the character and an easy way to visually see his most prominent traits.

Now with that out of the way, now I can discuss how 9 changes and what his relationship to Rose is like, so that one can better understand why Rose is such an important part of the Doctor's character.

From the moment the two meet, you can see he harbors an immediate curiosity towards her. Here they are, trapped in an elevator being attacked by a group of living mannequins and yet, Rose is almost unaffected.

That isn't to say she isn't afraid, she is, but her fear doesn't stop her from asking questions and demanding explanations. She doesn't shy away from him, rather she confronts him head on and even shows a level of concern for other people while she is actively the one in danger. It is enough to prompt him to ask her name, but not enough to involve her. Preferring to instead keep his distance.

It is not until another chance meeting that he gradually lets her in, allowing her to humor him with her curiosity and we see once more that he is in fact very good at socializing, but only with certain people. The reason why I stress this is because he often outwardly puts this front of coldness towards those that don't interest him. Rose was able to look past this front, and seems to look past his rather cold attitude towards other humans. He often stresses how inept they are, going on tangents about how they're nothing more than apes but she ignores it and tries to get at the core of the issue. That's why they mesh so well, because she is able to separate the fluff he inserts into his answers and take it for what it is. That isn't to say she's a doormat, she just knows when to pick her battles.

"do you know like we were saying? About the world revolving. It's like you're a kid, the first time they tell you that the world is turning and you just can't quite believe it cause everything looks like it's standing still. I can feel it. The turn of the earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning 1,000 miles an hour and the entire planet is hurtling round the sun at 67,00 miles an hour. And I can feel it, we're falling through space you and me. Clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, and if we let go.. that's who I am. Now forget me, Rose Tyler"

He is describing the manner in which he views the world. Unlike how a kid is unable to comprehend the vast truths of how the world functions and remains naive of it for a period of time, he is a man that was never given that chance to be unaware of how it functions to an infuriating degree. He sees the world for how it is, dark, unforgiving and so direct. Everything is calculated so precisely and he can't even begin to comprehend why anyone would see the good in it as it's just that, a planet.

But that's why he finds humans so interesting. There's a part of him that holds onto that hope that it is something more, that perhaps he is missing out on a purpose behind all the darkness. That's why he is running amongst them, to find a reason behind their way of thinking. To experience the world through the eyes of the hypothetical child, rather than the adult who breaks the illusion.

Not only that, but this conversation also let's us in on how touch-deprived he is.

For it is in a moment of vulnerability that he allows himself to reach out and touch Rose physically. Grabbing her hand for emphasis on how heavy this revelation burdens him. It's a cry for help in a sense, because he has reached the point where he has metaphorically "let go". Dropping her hand, to show that he is losing that last part of him that clings to that hope of finding something that will allow him to question his view of the world. He is miserable and lonely, because when you view the world through such a cynical lens it becomes all the more apparent that life is so lonely. If everything is doomed, then why go out of your way to care?

You see this in the way he remains unaffected by the reveal of Mickey's "death." Having grown so used to it, that he finds it off-putting to see that Rose is freaking out as a result. It happens everyday to people far more important so why give it any real weight if it's inevitable? Why ascribe a meaning to something that just is?

Remember when I mentioned it is implied that he was traveling on his own for a while? What places did he visit? The Titanic, the Kennedy assassination, the explosion of Karakota. These are all fixed points of time that are associated with absolute tragedies. But all the same, they're key points in life where the world remained cruel without reason. Thus fueling his very uncharitable view of the world and how it functions.

That's where Rose becomes key to his overall development. As a human, she inevitably views the world through the lens of that child. She doesn't know the ins and outs of the universe's processes, yet she continues living without ever really seeking to understand it better. It doesn't matter to her that the people around her aren't necessarily important in the grand scheme of things, they matter because they just do. She is capable of loving others and affording care to others simply because she wants to, not because she has to. She is confronted with alien threats the moment he walks into her life, and yet her view of the world and her existence doesn't really change. She does not harden rather, she curiously grows from it. Growing wiser and more aware rather than crippling under the discovery of another threat in the universe.

She is clinging to the understanding of the tiny little world she lives in, yet her hold doesn't relent. For she is not falling, to imply so would mean that he was right in his assertion that our existence is doomed. No, instead in the place of any real meaningful explanation about the world's existence is something so innately human: hope. An illogical thing to always maintain, yet she always seems to have it.

After all, it is such a confusing notion when you think about it. We have no reason to believe that things will improve, and that we'll be met with good outcomes. It's so metaphorical, not at all tethered to something practical like numbers and data and yet, even when the odds are against us, somehow we hope things will improve.

It's that aspect that he wishes he understood.

(i would love to dedicate a whole analysis on Rose in a separate post so for now, I will only focus on the Doctor and her role in his life)

This is why he takes her to the ends of the universe on their first trip. He's testing her, seeing if this will be enough to prompt a reaction out of her that fits his narrative. He also seeks companionship, to have someone understand what it's like to see your planet burn and to have yourself remain as the sole survivor. In a way, to justify the validity of his misery and guilt. She's affected of course. It's in that moment that she realizes, the scope of the universe and is faced with the undeniable truth that everything does end. It shakes her and you can see her sort of doubt her view of the world. No longer able to remain blissfully unaware of the big picture when it is quite literally in your face.

But something she has, and he lacks is a foundation. Rose still has her mother, someone to return to at the end of the day. She can be comforted by the people in her life while his inability to let anyone in, essentially stunts him.

When given the choice to spare Cassandra, he refuses. He lacks the capability of seeing past the evil, and assumes that there is no good in her. No second chances. An act that catches Rose off guard, who in spite of personally recieving the brunt of Cassandra's cruelty, she asks the Doctor to save her.

Eventually he takes her back to her time. He entrusts her with more information regarding the war and the death of his people. People pass them by, oblivious to his presence as he is wallowing in the sorrow of remembering. It's a metaphor, of sorts. While our two protagonists are brutally aware of the doom that awaits them in the future and they remain stuck in place reminiscing, the world around them continues moving on.

He is giving her every reason to run, to leave him behind and save the very last shreds of naivety she has.

But when he asks her if she wants to leave, to no longer accompany him on his adventures, she refuses. Because his confession puts it all into perspective.

He is hurting.

He desperately craves company: to have a hand to hold onto and keep him grounded as the world falls apart. Yet more than ever is she aware of her limitations; that she cannot undo what has been done to him.

And so, she does what she knows she can do to help ease the pain even if it is very miniscule. Tells him that he has her, and that his pain is one she can now share and understand. She offers him chips, not because it will magically make it all disappear but because it will distract him from the pain of remembering. It's also her favorite food, so no doubt she is trying to share that sense of comfort it brings her with him.

Such a human thing to not focus on fixing the bigger problem and instead focus on what can be changed in the current moment. They still have time until the end of the earth, so why spend more time dwelling on it?

That is her response to his question.

I believe the episode the unquiet dead is where he realizes the extent of his feelings for her. There they are about to be pulled apart by a horde of zombies yet Rose doesn't regret coming along. She tells him so and in the end all she asks of him is that they fight for their lives. Still clinging on to that bit of hope that they could get out of this, even if it is misplaced. To stay together in spite of their inevitable deaths is all she asks for, and he in turn tells her how glad he is to have met her. Assuring her that he is glad it's her that is there by his side as he clings to her hand like a life line. Somehow, having someone there to hold made the inevitable more bearable.

For a single moment, he remembers what it is like to not regret something.

But no, they live! Again and again, even if logically it makes no sense given how the world works. All the while, he meets more and more extraordinary people. With Rose, always reaching out to others as they embark on every new adventure. Thus indirectly providing him insight on the manner in which normal people are capable of doing brave and incredible acts even if it is at the cost of their own life. Their hope in a future for the people they hold dear, motivating them to put everything on the line if it meant that there was even a slight chance everything would be alright.

There's good in people, even those that outwardly appear to not be worth the trouble. And it's that potential he latches on to, and why he tries so hard to lend a hand when he can.

This is actually where the trend of the importance of knowing people's names starts, because the companions often serve as his connection to the humans around them. They ground his perspective, reminding him to not focus so much on the grand scheme of things that he forgets to look at the smaller details. This is why in the episode Midnight it is so tragic that no one asked for the stewardes' name. For up until that point, he knew better than to not at the very least humanize her (by asking for something as basic as her name, her story, etc.) rather than see her as pawn in the midst of the problem. That is the principal that Rose instilled in him and yet when left alone, he finds himself forgetting to do so. Thus, why he takes the revelation to heart.

But I'm getting ahead of myself lol

It is when he is confronting the last of the daleks that he has to reconsider his beliefs of how the world had up till now functioned. He has been proven time and time again that the world is not always such a negative place, and that there is at times tranquility that could be found in the midst of the chaos. That the universe and it's inhabitants are capable of doing both good and evil.

So why is he so quick to want to kill the last of the daleks and cling to that cynicism he was beginning to reconsider? Here he is faced with a being who understands his pain, but in the form of his biggest enemy. It is not innocent, having been at one time capable of monstrous acts that caused mass suffering but...neither is he. There it stands defenseless and unarmed and yet he is the one threatening it with a weapon, just like Rose reasons. She is alive and unharmed, standing next to a dalek yet the active threat is not the dalek, it's him. He is tempted to kill it because his first instinct is to resort back to that hatred that gave him purpose for so long. The same poison the daleks used to eradicate the rest of his people. But is it truly incapable of being good, if not, then why is he any different? To give into the temptation would mean to validate that goodness could not be found everywhere. That if he followed the same mindset that once drove him to pull the trigger on everyone involved in the whole war, than he was doomed to become one of them. To repeat the endless cycle of violence and prove once and for all that he is a monster that cannot change.

Again the answer to the question is up to us to decide. But for him, there's only one clear answer.

No one else has to die. By choosing to not do anything he can live another day, without carrying the guilt of another being dying at his hands. Not because it has to be done, but because he has the option to refuse.

He can no longer assert that its existence as the final survivor of his race isn't important. That just because he hates it, doesn't mean it doesn't deserve a second chance like he got.

Really who is he to pass judgement, when there was a point in his life where he too was blinded by rage and the very narrow view he held of the world?

There is always a choice, and sometimes, the choice is to not take part in that decision.

And so that's what he does.

Rose takes on the burden for him, reaching out to the dalek in the same compassionate way he once did for him. Ordering the dalek to die not out of spite, but out of mercy because that is what the dalek wanted. A being born with the ultimate goal of surviving at all costs with hatred running through its blood, yet it's last moments are spent anguishing over all the death it caused. But unlike the Doctor, who strived to change as a result, he used up his second chance to end the pain. All it asked in return, was comfort or in other words...a hand to hold.

Or..so we think.

It's this ability to look past his biases that allows him to see the good in individuals like Mickey, Jack, and even Rose, when she inevitably screws up. He is able to grant them a second chance to prove themselves and keep them grounded, just like they did for him. His bonds to said people strengthen as a result and now he travels with a group of individuals he can trust with his life. People that can ease the burden and see the good in him.

Now the final episodes of his run is where the final test to his resolve to change is put into question. In a cruel twist of faith, history repeats itself.

Once again, he is given a choice: to let humanity die at the hand of the daleks, or end it all himself.

But alas he chooses not to give in. To not let himself become like the very thing he despises, because the alternative would mean witnessing the mass death of humanity at his hands. A group of beings he personally saw was capable of so much good, and was directly responsible for his change of heart. They reminded him that he was not above changing and that he could find meaning in simply continuing to find the good in others. He refuses, and so he seals his fate.

Yes he would die as a result, but at least he'll die knowing that he did all that he could. That he did not repeat the same cycle of violence that drove him to make the decision to eradicate all that he knew in an act of desperation.

He was free at last of the hatred that poisoned him for so long and it's due in part to the emotion that now stood in its place. Something he slowly cultivated throughout the span of his episodes: Love.

Love for humanity.

Love for Rose.

Love for himself. Because he finally did something he would not live to regret

" Before I go, i just want to tell you that you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And you know what? So was I!"

When he finally regenerates, it is done with the intention that his final act is not one of destruction, but love. This man, with the blood of so many on his hands, was able to forgive himself through the compassion extended to him when he was at his lowest. Rose a mere human, through sheer kindness, was able to motivate the doctor to keep going. To not hang up on the inevitabilities of life, and to find beauty in what was fleeting.

To have faith in the good of the people around him, even when it wasn't easy.

Most importantly, she reminded him that his journey was not one that had to be solitary. He could share the burden with others, and in turn, build genuine friendships that would help ease that loneliness he felt.

What makes Rose special to the doctor is not that she is inherently special. She is not someone of high status nor this faultless god that is capable of doing no wrong. No what makes her important to him is the fact that she was perceptive enough to realize that he needed help, and selflessly gave it at a time where he was at his lowest. She extended the best of humanity towards him during a time where he desperately needed a reminder that life was more than just pain. She never gave up on him, always assuring him that he was capable of doing good even when he himself didn't believe it.

This was not a bond forged on shallow appearances or attraction, no, it was a deep friendship in which both people involved grew to become better versions of themselves by the end. They just so happened to fall in love in the process.

Something I want to point out is that the reason why he has the courage to kiss Rose is because his love for her, he feels, is unrequited. He thinks this will be the last chance to show her how much she means to him in this body, and perhaps ever. He is insecure, you see that in the way he practically sneers at any man that looks at her yet he never makes a move himself. That is why he is deeply confused as to why it takes her so long to warm up to his 10th incarnation in the Christmas invasion. Going as far as to claim that she had given up on him. A behavior that to him, makes no sense as he was essentially tailored to her tastes. A pretty boy, just like the ones she showed interest in previously.

This is why he asks her upon regenerating what she thinks of his appearance and once again when he wakes up from his coma. He wants her to fawn over him but doesn't take into account that maybe, bursting into flames isn't exactly a normal human occurrence lol

But we see that that is not true. His looks were never something that bothered her. Because whenever she is made to make a choice between the doctor and someone else, it's always him. Even at the expense of what he would consider to be the safer options.

Rose loved him since his 9th incarnation. This is made evident in the manner in which she immediately asks him to change back once he regenerates into 10 (Doctor Who Born Again, Children In Need Special 2005).

"Can you change back?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah"

"Oh."

"Can you?"

"No"

(note: if you haven't seen this clip, I strongly recommend doing so as it adds so much context to the conflict explored in the Christmas special)

If she had solely loved him when he was 10, then she would have accepted him easily but she didn't. It took her the entirety of the Christmas invasion to understand that he was still the same man. This is why the episode focuses so much on 10 sort of dancing around her, trying to earn her approval by showing off how he's still the same man. Going as far as to pan on his face numerous times as he wistfully looks at her direction, all while he fights the sycorax as if to make sure that she is watching him be impressive. (it's something I realized upon rewatch, just how desperately he is trying to earn back her approval lol)

So with all of this in mind, nine essentially transforms into a new man. Figuratively and literally lol. A man that finds the joy in living again and meets each challenge with a curiosity akin to that of a child. He's fun, far less burdened (outwardly) by the death of his people and more open to meeting new people. He becomes what 9 physically believes to be the ideal image of a partner Rose would want, down to the wispy hair and handsome features. Not to mention younger, as if, physically representing the the burden being lifted from his body, thus de-aging him.

But with this new man that was born out of his love for humanity and Rose, there's a conflict that is more apparent than ever. Will he be able to overcome the implications that come with falling in love with a human?

This is where the conflict shifts, because with confronting this question he is left to actually take into consideration what it means to fall deeper in love with her. A scenario he previously only humored in fantasies because he was unaware that she returned them.

Had she simply loved him as a friend, it would have been easy to ignore it but no she had fallen for him too. So now he can no longer skirt around it. To fall for a human would mean to expose her to what a Time lord's life and perspective entails. How alien he truly is and how that especially affects the manner in which they communicate. This is explicitly said in the Christmas invasion, when her whole world shifts at the reminder that he is in fact not human.

"The thing is, I thought I knew him, Mum. I thought me and him were...and then he goes on and does this. I keep forgetting he is not human"

This is what series 2's main conflict is.

But it is far from one sided.

She in return, has to confront the inevitability of her death. Can she ask that of him, to put aside the pain and let her live out the rest of her days by his side? Once she outlives those she loves, would she become someone unlike herself?

Because now it's not a question of will they won't they, they know how they feel about one another. No, it's a matter of when.

This is why series two appears to have very little conflict between the two at first glance, but that's because the conflict is within themselves. Since ten was made with her in mind, they tend to operate very similarly and so they don't get in as many arguments as they did previously. Because again, ten exists from the changes made in nine. You cannot have one without the other,as they are the two sides of the same coin.

Another tid bit that must be mentioned is that 10's desire to be human can actually be traced back to 9's era. This is because the 9th doctor always made it a point to separate himself from Rose's family life. This is what causes him to have such a strained relationship with Jackie in the first place, because his refusal to take part in Rose's personal life directly interfered with Jackie's relationship to her daughter. Jackie does care for the Doctor. He is important to Rose and so she makes an effort to welcome him, even when he refuses.

But really from a few comments he makes off handedly in father's day, one can infer that the reason why he stays far away from their home life is more of a reflection of how he views himself. Like an outsider who cannot afford to get too close to the people around him.

After all he had this to say about the importance of living a life that is ordinary.

"i don't what this is all about, and I know we're not important -"

"who said you're not important? I've traveled to all sorts of places, done things you couldn't even imagine, but you two. Street corner, 2:00 in the morning, getting a taxi home. I've never had a life like that.."

You can't always trust the Doctor's words because he often puts on this unbothered front. But in this specific instance, he says this not as a means of diminishing it but rather being rather fond of the idea. To live the one adventure he could never have, sound familiar?

It's because of this that the 10th doctor makes an effort to be more involved in Rose's personal life. Extending his care towards her mother, and even spending the holidays with them. He even goes as far as to imply they were the closest thing to family when he tells Donna about it.

This long ass essay is all to essentially say that the idea of pitting ninerose, tenrose, and tentoorose against one another is rather pointless lol because they're all essentially the same ship but at different stages of their relationship. You cannot have the existence of one without the other because they all occupy the same man. All are equally valid according to the narrative and canon so please can we lay this useless competition to rest?

There's enough Rose to go around!

#10th doctor #doctor x rose #rtd era #tenrose #ninth doctor #nine x rose #rose x ten #ninerose #doctorrose #tentoo x rose #rambles #character analysis #retrospective #doctor who #someone should really take my phone away #cant stop thinking about them #this hyperfixation has me in a chokehold #timepetals #rose tyler

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