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phantom-0-writer · 8 months

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*standing menacingly at the door* i made u something

anyways lol. i had a lot of school work and was really busy freaking out and stress studying for a singular test that was 4 questions and would be over in like an hour and then i proceeded to cry about it in my car for various reasons.

but yk what that means!

time for our irregular and unscheduled update of

Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

this episode featuring a fan favorite: Duke Thomas (aka The Signal - but thats kind of irrelevant for this)

you were supposed to read that like it was from a '90s sitcom and the off screen crowd cheers rly loudly.

some house keeping updates: this scene happens in the beginning of the school year (going by the american system should be september) danny meets damian (and upsurges tim on the same day) around midterm which is around october and then the stuff with jason and damian's drawing happens around december. i kinda accidentally burned the irl timeline for anything dc first scene so now im just gonna do whatever i want.

anyways with out further ado:

table of contents

scene 04: after school activities for normal kids

Duke stood around the corner of the classroom awkwardly, wondering if he had made the right call. Sure the bats and the birds had a plethora of hands on deck any time, but most of them specialized as night time heros. Not to say that they were incompetent or anything, they were some of the most skilled and innovative people Duke had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Sure if anything happened, they could handle it, at least until Duke could slip away and show up as the Signal- Alfred and Bruce had assured him so much. But Duke couldn’t slip the guilt of busying away more of his time to after school activities when he could be patrolling or studying instead,

But Duke had wanted to do something outside of those things, which was specifically why he had made the difficult decision to join a few clubs and after school activities. He could use a break from being surrounded by people who worked the vigilante life-style just to remember how to be a normal civilian. Let himself take a break from constantly be consumed by one case or another, one disaster or another, not being able to do enough no matter how much he tried or how much time he spent patrolling.

Duke needed to feel grounded, like his feet were on the ground and he could press the brakes and smell the fragrance of life. Even if the fragrance was a forgotten pile of dog s-

“Alright,” The instructor for their culinary club started with a weird German accent that sounded really fake. “I am Herman. You can call me Chef or Chef Herman or just Chef. I will not bore you all with the boring introductions, and let's head right into the cooking, yes. On this paper here I made the partners for all of you to cook with for the rest of the year. If you have problem with it then quit.”

This Herman guy seemed like quite the character, and was definitely not helping any of Duke’s previous anxieties. Many of Duke’s clubmates seem to think so too, sending their friends various looks. But no one spoke out, and instead shuffled to the front to look at the singular sheet of paper that would assign them their partners. Duke finally made it to the front and saw that he was paired with a Daniel Fenton at Station 7.

Crossing his fingers that Daniel had at least only a half-rotten personality, Duke made his way over to station 7. The station was already prepped with an assortment of ingredients and cooking equipment. Duke had already set his stuff down claiming the seat closer to the exit (in case) when a lanky kid comes over, “Uh, your Duke Thomas?” He asks hesitantly looking back at the front counter the partner assignment sheet was.

It took Duke an awkward second longer to realize that this kid was probably his partner. “Oh yeah I am.” He laughed apologetically, “You must be Daniel.”

“Danny’s fine.” The boy smiled, absentmindedly brushing his messy black hair out of his face, his glacier blue looking at the equipment. Duke couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about Danny. Not in Gotham’s usual psycho-maniac-out-to-terrorizer-the-city-and-kill-innocent-people kind of off, more in a he’s not in sync with the rest of the world off. While Chef Herman explained the general structure of various types of kitchen and kitchen hierarchy that Duke was already familiar with, Duke tried to get a read on him.

Weird did not mean threat, after all many of the Justice League- heck even the local Wayne/Batclan were pretty weird- and they (usually) didn’t mean any harm. It wouldn’t be fair of Duke to jump the horse like that.

Deciding he should try to be friendly with him, Duke leaned over, “Is it just me or is Chef Herman’s accent totally fake?” he whispered.

“Oh, Ancients,” Anciets? “I thought I was just going insane.” Danny sighed in relief with a small chuckle. There was a moment of silence between the two of them where no one said anything for longer than socially acceptable and Duke debated using his powers to see if he could find a clue or something. That seemed kinda invasive, though.

When the Chef had started instructions on making today's recipe, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Danny helped Duke measure out the ingredients. “So,” Danny tried again, “What are you in for?”

“What am I…” Duke repeated confused,

Danny chuckled awkwardly, “Like why you joined the club.”

Duke seriously needed to get his head in the present; this was getting embarrassing. “Oh.” He nodded in understanding, “I’ve always liked cooking,” Duke shrugged, “When I was little my parents and I would always cook together, and it was always one of my favorite things to do. And I’ve kinda always liked it, but I fell off of it for a while with school and stuff,” emphasis on the stuff “I thought joining a club could help me get back into it and get away from… everything.” That was a little more candid than Duke had planned on being with someone he had met quite literally a few minutes ago, but it felt good to have that out of his chest. The pleasant memories of his parents swimming in his mind. Mixing the dry ingredients, “Sorry that was kind of a lot.” Duke laughed genuinely this time.

“Dude, no it’s actually so cool that you like to cook.” Danny said admiration was easy on his face, and Duke couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed.

“What about you, then?”

“Ugh,” He groaned jokingly, “You can’t seriously be asking for my lame ass reason after you pulled out the flashbacks.” Danny whined, letting the oven preheat like Chef told them to.

“C’mon, it’s only fair.” Duke played along, already ahead of the other groups.

Danny sighed, “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Okay, it can’t be that bad.” Duke could already feel the smile cracking on his face.

“It is.” Danny drawlled, “So I live in the dorms right, and I got to pull some strings and room with one of my friends from back home this year. And well, let’s just say my family has a bit of a reputation for causing problems, and the kitchen definitely wasn’t an exception. One time my dad tried to make some soup for my mom because she got sick.” Duke nodded approvingly, that was a sweet gesture, “It was all fun and games until the bomb squad had to show up and long story short we had to move.”

“You’re joking.” Duke gaped at the bizarre story, but at Danny’s solemn expression, Duke couldn’t help but be appalled, “A bomb squad over soup.”

“My parents were never really heavy on lab safety,” Danny added, as if that explained everything, “But I burn one pot of water and maybe make a few extra-crispy eggs, and suddenly its all ‘Danny you’re not allowed in the kitchen unless you start taking actual classes’ and ‘Danny that's a biohazard’.”

“You burned a pot of water.” Duke echoed, Danny nodded innocently, “Water doesn’t burn.”

“Well, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.” Danny sneered, trying to crack an egg on the corner of the bowl only for all the shell to fall in the bowl and the yolk on the counter.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true.” Duke said, taking the bowl from him and expertly cracking an egg single handedly. Danny looked on in awe. “You said you live in the dorms?” Duke asked easily.

“Oh yeah, all of the non-local scholarship kids have to.”

Before Duke could respond, a girl from the station in front of them whips her head around, “You said you’re here on a scholarship?” She asked almost oppressively.

Danny just as taken aback as Duke felt, “Uh, yeah.”

“Me, too. Have you heard anything about the Mentorship Program here? Apparently we all have to join.” The girl’s partner was looking between Duke and Danny confused, but returned to their cooking uninterested.

“Oh, yeah. They make us all join.” Danny nodded.

“I heard from some of the older kids, that no one actually gets picked for that. It’s just like a weird formality thing.” The girl spoke animatedly, “What department are you in?”

“Applied physics and engineering design.” The oven beeps that it was ready but no one moved.

The girl seemed to deflate that answer, “Oh, I’m doing culinary science.” And with that solid conclusionary statement, she turned around and got back to her work station.

Danny blinked, processing what just happened and slowly turning to look at Duke for proof that just happened. But the second the both of them met each other’s eyes, they burst into a fit of silent laughter.

Bent vunuralably over the table, trying to catch their breath, they were accosted by Chef Hermon. “The two of you are having a comedy club, not a cooking club.” Chef crossed his arms at the edge of the table. Duke was pretty sure he was trying to sold them, but the fake accent was making it hard to tell.

Danny cleared his throat and striated up, “Sorry, Sir.” He apologized quickly.

“Chef.” Hermon peered at them, his hat looking comically large and lopsided on his head now that Duke was getting a closer look.

“Sorry, Chef.” Duke amended, trying to keep his cool.

“Yes, finish cooking your cookies.” He nodded satisfied, leaving their station.

“Okay so,” Duke tried to recount what the last thing they did was, but one look at Danny trying desperately to hold in his laugh had ruined all of Duke’s efforts as well. Barely managing to get their cookies in the oven, over Chef’s fake german accent and floppy oversized chef’s hat.

“So scholarship for applied physics and engineering design, huh.” Duke recounted from earlier, impressed.

“Yeah…” Danny trailed off embarrassed, “It sounds kinda snotty.”

“Dude. That’s literally one of the hardest departments to get into, and the scholarship is no sneeze either. There’s no doubt you worked your butt off to get that.” Duke assured Danny as they sat in their stools waiting for the cookies to finish.

“Thanks,” Danny smiled sheepishly. They sat in a much more comfortable silence now before Danny spoke again, “What grade are you in by the way?”

“I’m in 10th. General studies for now, but I was thinking of doing medicine. You?”

“I could totally see you as a hot-shot doctor.” Danny nodded approvingly, “11th. Technically, I’m your upperclassman then.”

“Technically?” Duke asked.

“I mean, how old are you?”

“15.” Duke supplied confused.

“Me too. I skipped a grade in elementary school, so we’re actually the same age.” Danny explained, sheepishly.

“Dude, you're actually way smart.” Duke gaped in awe.

“Hey medicine isn’t a day walk either.” Danny nudged his arm playfully, “I’m glad the mentorship thing is just for show, though. Now that we’re upperclassmen, y’know. I would not want my hands full with some random rich kid.”

Duke laughed, “Yeah, that definitely sounds like a lot of work.”

Easily unfolding the conversation into various topics and interests Duke found that he didn’t mind that the cookies were burnt. Or that Danny was definitely weird. But in a good way. Duke was glad they met and would get to hang out and cook with their weird not-German Chef every week. And if Danny and Duke exchanged numbers and planned to hangout outside of club activities, then well who was going to stop them.

#a little fluff to make our day better #duke and danny #the world definitely needs more of them #they start off a little shaky but their bffs at the end #danny heard the chef's weird accent and thought it was bc of time travel shenanigans and decided it was just best not to comment on that #duke will def be rubbing his friendship with danny in the other bat's faces once he gets indoctrinated #jack blew up his house over chicken noodle soup and no one lets him live it down #Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program #dpxdc #dp x dc au #batpham #danny phantom #duke thomas #signal #phantom

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iliketangerines · 3 months

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Can I request oneshot of Mk1 Liu Kang x Fem s/o Jinx (Dc comics) whose power is to give bad luck because of this power she always isolates herself in fear of hurting others when she tells Liu about her power he doesn't care and still loves her anyway; she is gentle and soft spoken please?

jinx, jinx again!

a/n: i changed the personality of the reader around, but i think it makes more sense

pairing: liu kang x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Liu Kang wonders where you are

you were a powerful champion, one with the power to turn the tides of luck and turn the war towards any one side

he had created you in this timeline with the intent to protect Earthrealm, and yet, you’re nowhere to be found on any speck of the planet

and so Liu Kang set out on a journey to find you, going through the sands of time to try and locate you with Geras to bring you to his side before Shang Tsung or anyone else could use your powers for evil

Liu Kang sighs and rubs at the headache forming in his head, it had been days since he had started looking

and yet, you were nowhere to be found, finding the other champions had not nearly been this difficult and yet here you were, unfindable

Geras calls over Liu Kang and points to something in the hourglass, a piece of sand stuck to the side, stubbornly refusing to fall in with the rest of them

Liu Kang raises his eyebrow and picks out the sand and opens its threads to show its life, and there you were

he scrolls through your life memories, searching for where you are, but now he sees why you were so hard to find

your power to change the tides had manifested as bad luck, and it had driven you away from society and only heightened your anxiety

and that heightened your powers, which turned into a never ending cycle of you falling deeper and deeper into your powers

and your powers had kept you away from Liu Kang, from forming connections with the right people to harness your powers

and so you lived in isolation in fear of harming others

Liu Kang rubs his chin as he tries to find your exact location, and he hums as he finds you, isolated high in the mountains, somehow surviving on your own despite everything

he summons a portal and tells Geras that hopefully he will be back soon with you in hand, and Liu Kang disappears

it’s snowing, trees covered in the soft powder, and the birds chirp quietly into the air as Liu Kang makes his way through the forest

he finds your house in the distance, a humble cabin barely holding itself together, and he knocks upon your door

he hears some crashing from within a house and a loud thud before the door unlatches, and you peek out from behind the door, eyes wide as you stare at him

your fingers twitch as you notice his glowing eyes and his lack of winter clothing, and he asks to enter

you shut the door in his face, and he can hear yourself mumbling to yourself, before you open the door again and ask who he is

Liu Kang tells you who he is, god of fire and protector of earthrealm, and he tells you he is here to recruit you in the defense of earthrealm

you raise your eyebrows and then laugh, cackling and howling even as Liu Kang stands in front of you with a stern face

you raise your hand up into the air, and the top of the doorway falls down right into your awaiting hands, as if you knew it was going to happen

you shove it back in place before telling him that that was a funny joke, but he shouldn’t have been able to find you in the woods

you open the rest of the door to reveal the sharp blade you carry, and Liu Kang raises his hands in surrender, trying not to provoke you any further

but he can see the way your hands slightly tremble and how your breath comes out a bit stuttered as you hold the knife towards him

Liu Kang says he truly is a god and he summons flames into his hand to show you

you look at him in surprise and nearly drop the knife into the snow, and you fumble with it, managing to cut yourself in the process

you hiss out in pain and press your thumb into your mouth, trying to clean the wound as Liu Kang looks upon you

he tells you he has the answer to your plight, that he can cure your bad luck if you come with him to train and defend earthrealm

you look up at him with quirked eyebrows, surprised that he even knew of your terrible luck

he summons a portal behind him, one that led to his academy, and he gestures that you can take his offer, to control your powers and make friends and to build connection

your eyes dart between the portal and your rickety home, unsure if you should leave everything behind

you always had bad luck, and it drew everyone away from you

you bounced from home to home, from school to school as your bad luck harmed everyone else and you

now, you have a chance to get rid of your bad luck, to make the human connection you so desperately craved after years in isolation

you spin in a circle and step out from under the doorway as the top of it falls down again

you don’t catch it and let it fall into the snow as you take a deep breath and take Liu Kang’s hands

he’s warm, warmer than anyone you’ve ever experienced, and he gives you a small smile before leading you through the portal to your new life

#tangerine answers #tangerine writes #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fluff #mortal kombat x reader #mk x you #mk x reader #mk x y/n #liu kang #liu kang mk1 #mk1 liu kang #liu kang x reader #liu kang x you #liu kang x y/n

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phantompoguefangirl · 3 months

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GREEN LIGHT-SPENCER REID

'Love compels cruelty To those who do not understand love.'

'I learn a great deal by merely observing you, and letting you talk as long as you please, and taking note of what you do not say.'

'In my end is my beginning.'

T.S. Eliot

A/N: Based on the episodes Green Light and Red light and basically that whole section of Season 12. Fluff and ANGST. This is also on my wattpad SerpentBeauty1710 and will be on my AO3, MayaGillespieReid

**********************************

Y/N POV:

Nothing could have prepared me for any of this.

Not for the way my soul left my body when the words "Spencer is in jail in Mexico" came out of Emily's horrified mouth.

Not for the anxiety being stuck home waiting for answers when half the team went down to get him.

Not for the relief and yet underlying tornado of emotions when the beautiful, kind and innocent boy wonder, the love of my life, my sweet Spencer...walked into the BAU in handcuffs.

The frustration when my short legs and rapidly expanding belly wouldn't let me get to him faster. The pain when he couldn't hug me back, then the love and desperation I felt him return by nuzzling his face into my neck as best he could while his bound hands caressed my bump. The soft but urgent warmth of his lips as I reached up to kiss him. The brief touch of his forehead to mine and the whispered reassurances right before Emily led him back to the elevator.

The way I broke down sobbing when the judge denied bail.

And the agony of waiting, of knowing he was so close to home and not being able to hold him or keep him safe. And on top of that, the stress of not knowing if he would get out in time, if at all...

The team did their best to support me through it and took turns helping with Diana when they could, along with the caregiver Spencer and I had hired for her. We had decided to move into a house with a mother in law suite for Diana when Spencer brought her to live with us in DC. We'd agreed Diana would do better with her own space and it ended up being a really good thing we moved. The team helped me finish settling in. Garcia was all over decorating, Emily JJ and Tara helped me organize everything, Derek and our new agent Luke handled any repairs and/or replacements that needed done and Rossi brought his delicious food regularly. Hotch had very recently gone into in witsec with Jack, but I knew he'd be here helping too if he could.

I smiled appreciatively at the thought of our friends as I struggled to roll out of bed and padded to the kitchen for breakfast. I was grabbing a croissant from the container when I felt a small pinch in my neck and everything went dark.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in what seemed to be a trunk. I was going to kick a tail light out or or scream or something but my hands and feet were tied up and there was duct tape over my mouth. It was cold, much more so probably due to the fact that I was only in a tank top and pajama shorts.

I didn't recognize my captors' voices but I tried to listen to the youngish girl and older man when they spoke. They mostly talked in low tones so it was difficult, but I heard them whisper Diana's name and something about the caregiver which caused my heart and stomach to constrict in terror. I wanted to scream at them to tell me where my mother in law was, but I knew it would probably do no good and I still had the tape on my mouth anyway.

What felt like days(but was probably only hours) passed and the only respite I had was when the man moved me to a different trunk and removed the tape before holding the phone to my ear. I recognized the phone number on the screen.

"Spencer?" I whimpered, shifting umcomfortably as the man held on to the ropes around me.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" He cried out desperately.

"Yeah we're okay, I think," I answered softly. "But Spencer, they have Mom. I don't know where, she's not with me but-"

The man shoved the tape back over my mouth and closed the trunk. I thought I heard Diana's scared voice right before he took the phone away, which was odd. I did hear a gunshot right outside a second later though, followed by a loud explosion, before the vehicle I was in roared to life and was suddenly in motion.

I tried to mentally document all of my surroundings, while simultaneously looking around for something to cut my bindings with, in order to keep myself from panicking. However, every so often the tightening feeling would return and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Spencer's soft voice in my mind reassured me and reminded me how amazing our team is, which helped to soothe me a little. That led me to distract myself with thoughts of my wonderful husband. Of every little thing about him that I was so in love with. Things like his ridiculously cute laugh, our shared fascination with books and learning, the way he loved so deeply with his entire heart, his gentle kindness, his relentless determination, etc. One of my favorite things was the expression on his face whenever he concentrated hard on anything or whenever he was deep in thought. The way his brow furrowed while he rested his chin on his folded hand, every so often running his thumb or knuckle across his bottom lip or sometimes against his chin. I'd never seen him do this so intensely until the day he figured out this special puzzle box I'd had made for him.

*FLASHBACK*

It took me a bit to think of a good way to tell him the news. I didn't want to just say the words or show him the test or something simple. I wanted it to be as special as he was to me. It was a conversation we'd had about Sherlock Holmes that finally gave me the idea. I created a little scavenger hunt for him, the last clue of which was a puzzle box for him to solve. He loved puzzles and riddles. The answer to open the box was a phrase that he would have to guess.

He figured out the clues to the hunt much faster than expected, but the puzzle box actually took him quite a while to figure out. He got so determined to crack it that he brought it to work, unbeknownst to me. I was shocked when I walked into the round table room(I'd stopped in the break room for some tea which we were sadly out of) and found him studying it, eyebrows furrowed very deeply, head on hand and thumb brushing against his lip while Garcia and Hotch were briefing us on a case. I tried not to stare at him, because let's be honest it was unbelievably hot when he looked like that, and silently hoped he would not crack the code till later. Of course I had no such luck. He was a genius after all.

"I'm pregnant? What? I'm not-" Spencer suddenly said out loud, causing us all to stop and look at him. He was silenced by the box unlocking as he finished turning the small knobs to the correct letters. He saw what was inside and his eyes grew to the size of bowling balls as he picked it up. His face snapped up to look at me and he jumped out of his seat at the same time. "YOU'RE PREGNANT?!"

Everyone gaped at us. I froze, having not even made it into a chair yet.

"I...um...yeah," I managed to get out after a moment.

Spencer's mouth dropped open and his eyes somehow softened while staying wide. His floppy brown curls made him look even more like a puppy as he reached for me and squeaked out the word "Really?"

My heart melted, every emotion flooding to the surface, as I stepped closer to him.

"Yeah really. We're gonna have a baby, Spence," I said softly, smiling tentatively.

A gasp escaped Spencer's lips as he pulled me into his arms and spun me around while everyone cheered. He set me down and kissed me passionately through happy tears before the team engulfed us in hugs.

"Congratulations, you two," Hotch said, revealing a rare, genuine smile.

"Tanta Felicità!" Rossi exclaimed in Italian as he kissed our cheeks.

"You guys! This is amazing!" JJ said, "You're gonna be great parents!"

Tara echoed this enthusiastically, affectionately wrapping her arms around us for a brief moment before backing up.

"Wow, I was totally kidding when I asked if you wanted little baby geniuses some day. I'm so glad I was right though. This is wonderful news!" Emily quipped, grinning.

"BABY GENIUS THERE IS GOING TO BE A BABY GENIUS OH MY GOD I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD!" Penelope all but screeched as she embraced us tightly, continuing to ramble. "Auntie Penelope is gonna spoil the heck out of this little one just like I do with Henry and Michael! I hope it's a girl but as long as he or she is healthy that's all that really matters."

"Way to go, Pretty Boy. I didn't know you had it in you!" Morgan joked once Garcia was done, clapping Spencer on the shoulder as we all giggled. "But I couldn't be happier for you both."

"Thanks man," Spencer chuckled, as he looked down at the object in his hands and teared up some more.

"What is it?" Morgan asked. Nobody had seemed to notice the object before but now they all zeroed in on it.

"A onesie?" JJ asked.

"It says 'Daddy's little Genius'...Daddy... I'm gonna be a dad...," Spencer murmured, smiling in that adorable way he does when he's emotional.

A chorus of awwwws filled the room followed by them scruffing Spencer's hair or clapping him on the shoulders again. I also received more hugs and a couple kisses on the head from Morgan and Rossi.

Hotch let us celebrate for a second, and celebrated with us, before drawing our attention back to the case at hand. Of course, Penelope told us we were having a real celebration when we got back and would not take no for an answer. And that's exactly what we did.

I hadn't meant for everyone to find out like that, but it ended up being the happiest moment in my life so far.

The memory faded as the tightening intensified. It felt like a weight pressing on me, like I wasn't going to be able to relax until I knew that Diana was safe. If anything happened to her, I wasn't sure what the hell I would do. She'd been doing so much better and she'd been absolutely over the moon upon learning she was going to be a grandmother. She'd nearly screamed out joyfully when we told her the news. She'd insisted that Spencer and I take turns reading to the baby every day and when Spencer was away, she took his place, picking up wherever he left off while I rested. Diana was genuinely wonderful and I was not violent by nature but I would go absolutely feral on anyone who hurt her, even in my current condition.

I tried to keep distracting myself with thoughts of Spencer and eventually began to doze off.

SPENCER POV:

I realized who the girl was as soon as she left the visiting room with my mother. I contacted the team as soon as possible to let them know, unable to keep from panicking.

Convincing them to believe me and the wait for news was excruciating but that was nothing compared to what I felt when Emily visited to update me on everything.

As soon as she walked in the room, I could see that something was very wrong, aside from Lindsey taking my mom. I think subconsciously I already knew what it was when I first saw Lindsey, but I couldn't bear to let myself even consider it.

"We found your caregiver dead in a house just a few houses down from yours. Ballistics came back and turns out Lindsey used her father's gun. We don't know whether it was to prove a point or something else, but the reasons are unimportant." Emily began, urging me to sit. I politely refused and she continued, "The point is that you were right, Reid. You were right and I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry."

"She's a daddy's girl. She can't help but use his gun," I mused out loud, going over the memories of her case in my mind.

"Good. That's good. That helps," Emily said, but there was something about her voice that alerted me.

I sat there across the table, shaking at this point, but I made myself look at her. "There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Emily looked down, hesitating for a second before answering.

"It's Y/N," she finally said, holding back tears,"Lindsey took her too."

My heart stopped. I heard Emily shout my name but couldn't focus on her at all. I couldn't think. I couldn't even pull oxygen into my lungs.

This was not happening.

This could not be happening.

Not my wife... not our baby...

I felt a hand on my arm. I shoved it off of me.

"You have to find them, Emily. Promise me you'll find my mom and Y/N." I begged, desperately.

"I promise you, Reid. We will find them," Emily assured me. "Right now you just have to find a way to isolate yourself."

I stormed toward the door and had the guard take me back to my cell.

I ended up having to make it look like Shaw stabbed me with a shiv to get put in solitary confinement. I couldn't handle anything else happening and I had to least try and stay safe on the off chance I got to get out and search for my wife and mom. Not that I had any hope that I would get out at this point in time, but I trusted my team with everything and I knew they would not rest till they found my family.

Sometime later, I found myself being brought out of isolation without any warning and I was terrified that Shaw had conjured up his own way to get to me. The guard left me in a room alone and I tried to remain calm, bracing myself for what was to come.

I was not prepared for my best friend to walk through the door.

"We're taking you home," JJ choked out as her eyes watered.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding as I pulled her into a tight hug. After a minute, she led me out the door and took me back to the BAU.

The sense of ease at seeing my work family again, especially the radiant embodiment of sunshine that was Penelope Garcia, was brief. It was soon overshadowed by unbridled rage when we discovered that Cat Adams was the true mastermind behind all of this.

She had Lindsey frame me for murder.

She had me put in prison.

She risked my sobriety by drugging me.

She had Lindsey kidnap my family.

Now, she was demanding to speak to me by using them as leverage.

Of course she wanted to play a game just like we did before when I arrested her, using my watch as the timer. She was angry that I'd outsmarted her so she wanted to break me. I was not about to let her have even a sliver of satisfaction.

She almost succeeded, however, when she revealed she was pregnant with my child.

Almost.

Apparently she'd told Lindsey to pretend to be Y/N after she dosed me with drugs so she could collect a sample from me down in Mexico. I knew it should not be possible, but I had been drugged and my memories of that day were still very hazy so I couldn't be sure.

"That's right, Y/N's not the only one carrying a baby protegé," Cat said in almost a sing song voice as I rushed out of the room. "I was thinking, if it's a boy, Spencie Junior. Or if it's a girl, Y/N. You know, since she played a part in her own conception."

JJ was waiting outside with Cat's file, hesitantly holding it up. I barely heard the words she said as I read it, then threw it against the wall once I saw the confirmation of pregnancy.

"Sorry," I said gently, upon noticing I had scared JJ. I ran my fingers through my hair. "I just...just need a minute."

JJ just nodded in understanding.

Some time later, the team discovered that Cat was lying about the child being mine and we eventually got her to call her cohort for proof of life.

My heart swelled when I heard the love of my life's voice on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah we're okay, I think," she answered softly. Dread filled me at her next words. "But Spencer they have Mom. I don't know where, she's not with me but-

She'd conferenced in the call for my mom too and their voices made me hopeful for a second before both calls were cut off with explosions.

I forced the metal table out of my way before shoving Cat against the wall by her throat.

"I'm gonna kill you," I hissed, enraged once more. "I'm gonna kill you."

I kept repeating that until JJ pried me off of Cat, reminding me over and over that she was pregnant.

I stormed out again with JJ hot on my heels. I didn't have time to break down before the team told us that there was a call in about an amber alert Emily put out for Lindsey. Two vehicles at the scene were blown up but the only victim inside was male.

I felt bad for the man who was killed, but this meant there was hope again.

JJ and I talked some things through and pieced together what Cat really wanted me to say. While I told Cat what she wanted to hear, the team discovered the prison guard who had actually been the one to impregnate Cat and found two properties he owned.

I won the game by telling Cat that I could have done several different things to get out of the situation with Shaw and his men but I chose the one that would cause the most pain. In the process, Lindsey overheard us on Emily's tablet which had been connected to the visiting room cameras, realizing Cat betrayed her and therefore giving up.

As I was heading out, Cat piped up again. "How are you going to be a father now that you've proven you enjoyed hurting those men in prison? I mean, because once you've crossed that line, you can never go back."

In a split second I was on my knees in front of her, yanking my watch off of her wrist.

"Watch me," I retorted before walking out.

The team found my mom first and they let me see her briefly, then they took her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. We went to a secondary location we'd discovered which was where they were holding Y/N. I wasn't technically supposed to go because I was not reinstated yet but I couldn't think clearly enough to obey that rule when my girl and my unborn child were in danger.

Luckily, JJ was a parent and knew me too well so she had my back. Rossi also understood and had a helicopter standing by. We managed to make it there in time for the team to breech the house and I rushed in along side them without thinking.

That's when my whole life changed.

Y/N P.O.V.

My captors brought me to a house and left me in a room on the floor. I was alone for awhile and attempted to move to relieve the tight cramping sensation, which had gotten so much worse. I tried to conceal my pain from the man who was walking around the house setting stuff up and attaching rectangle shaped objects to the walls.

I was horrified when I saw that they were C4 charges. The resulting panic ran concurrent with another very intense tightening sensation, followed by what felt like a toilet flushing inside me and then a few minutes later, warm liquid spilled out between my legs.

All at once, the realization hit. The pains I'd been feeling all day were contractions and the liquid was my water breaking.

I was in labor. I had been kidnapped, was about to be blown up and I was in fucking labor.

I wasn't even due for another few weeks so this shouldn't be happening yet. I mean, I knew from the books Spencer and I read that babies rarely came on their actual due dates, but I was still incredibly frightened.

I wept quietly. Three or four more excruciating contractions ripped through me much more quickly before I was distracted by the doors being busted open.

I almost didn't even notice Tara knocking out the unsub or the others disarming the bombs because all I could focus on was the beautiful face of my sweet Spencer as he rushed over to me.

He hijacked Luke's pocket knife from his belt, swiftly slicing through the ropes before wrapping his arms around me.

"Spence," I sobbed hysterically into his shoulder.

"I'm here, love. It's okay," he murmured into my hair, kissing the side of my head.

"How are you here?" I asked, almost unable to conceive that he was really in front of me.

"I'll explain later. Right now we have to get you out of here," He answered, reaching to help me up.

"Wait, is Mom-" I started to say, but he was way ahead of me.

"Mom is fine, Emily and Luke got her back." he responded, relief in his voice.

"Oh, thank God. I-oh!" I grimaced, grabbing my belly.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked, his face instantly distressed.

"The baby is coming," I managed to say through gritted teeth. "Like, right now."

"What?!"He nearly shouted. He located and motioned to the paramedics that had followed him in. "She's in labor. We need to get her to the hospital immediately!"

The EMTs rushed over to us.

"Ma'am how far apart are your contractions?" one of the paramedics asked as he opened his bag, applied a blood pressure cuff to my arm and took my vitals. Another EMT started setting up a stretcher for me.

I gripped my husband's bicep for dear life as I felt another contraction after a little bit. He winced in pain but he supported me through it.

"I don't know, but close enough to know we ain't making it to the hospital," I groaned, leaning against him once it passed.

"Damn it, you're right. That last one was 2 minutes and 48 seconds from the one you had when I got here. How are you in active labor so quickly? The books said the first child usually takes the longest and it could be hours if not days before the baby is born," Spencer rambled anxiously.

"Um, pretty sure I've been having contractions since they took us," I told him,"How long has it been since then?"

He gaped at me,"It's about 1:30am. It's been approximately 17 hours. God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. This is not how this was supposed to happen. It's 3 weeks early and you're under too much stress-"

"It's okay, Spence. We're okay," I reassured him, grabbing my belly as another pain shot through me. "Oohh nope we're not!"

Spencer looked so freaked out which was sort of scaring me.

The EMT seemed to notice and stopped what he was doing,"Hey, it's going to be okay, guys. Her vitals and everything look good and babies are delivered a few weeks premature all the time and are in perfect health. We'll take good care of you all, I promise."

It seemed to work. Spencer relaxed a little bit and switched into doctor mode, holding my hands.

"You're alright, just remember the birthing classes. Breathe with me like this, okay?" He instructed in a gentle voice, demonstrating what the lamaze teacher taught us. I did what he said as best as I could.

The team, who was still standing there awkwardly, left when Spencer and the paramedic started to remove my short bottoms and slid a large pad thing underneath me. JJ said they would meet us at the hospital since they needed to check on Diana anyway. At some point in the process Spencer slipped behind me, sitting with his legs on either side of me and his arms under mine, probably without thinking about it. We sat like this a lot in the classes and also at home because he'd read that sitting like this while carefully lifting my belly provided some much needed relief from it weighing down on me.

"Looks like you're fully dialated. It's time for you to push," the paramedic said, after he checked me. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"I need," I grunted, shifting back against Spencer, who as quick to assist,"I need to be up..."

"What?" the medic asked, confused.

"Statistically, it's much more beneficial and effective to give birth in an upright position such as squatting or kneeling on all fours," Spencer prattled off facts as he lifted me so I was sitting up against his chest. He kept his arms underneath mine and entwined our fingers so I could squeeze his hands whenever I needed to."In fact, up until the 1700's, women were even known to give birth standing up. It allows the pelvic bones to open up for the child to pass through more easily and gravity helps the process move faster."

The medic gave him the look everyone gives him when he spouts facts and I supressed a giggle.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked my husband, incredulously.

"I have 3 phD's so technically yes-oh owww,"Spencer's sentence was interrupted by me squeezing the life out of his hands as another one hit.

The medic gave him a 'wow' look and then focused on me again,"Okay, anyway I'm gonna have you push through this contraction. Are you ready?"

I nodded and inhaled deeply, pushing on his cue. He counted down and told me to stop. I exhaled harshly and rested for a second before I was told to do it again. We repeated this a few times, Spencer lovingly encouraging me through it. The medic also reassured me that I was doing great, even though I was exhausted and didn't feel like I was doing well.

Sooner than expected, a tiny wail filled the room, changing everything and stirring an indescribable feeling inside me.

"It's a girl!" The paramedic announced, cleaning her, wrapping her in the blue towel things they use and placing her in my arms.

"Oh my gosh" I gasped as I stroked her small head, in hysterical tears at this point. "Hello my little love...oh Spence, look at her..."

Spencer, gaping at her in awe, managed to speak, "H-hi princess, I'm your dad...wow you're so beautiful...you look just like your mommy."

He wasn't wrong. She had his round, hazel eyes, but most of her facial features and her hair color were the same as mine. I smiled warmly down at her through my tears.

I was going to throw back a smart remark but it was forgotten as more tightening and the need to push again overtook me. "Something else is coming out what the-?"

"It's probably the placenta needing to be delivered," Spencer said, without taking his eyes off of our daughter.

"I don't think so," The medic said, reaching his hands out as I instinctively pushed some more.

Just when I thought I could not exert myself anymore, whatever it was came out and the medic grinned, holding it up. "Does that look like a placenta to you, Doctor?"

Our eyes just about popped out of our heads at the sight of the tiny wriggling form.

Another baby??!!

"I-No but- that's impossible," Spencer stuttered, in shock. I mirrored his expression completely.

"You didn't know?" The medic looked confused as he grabbed another towel thing.

"No, the ultrasounds only showed one baby," I said, in disbelief.

"This is a surprise then!" the medic chuckled. "Well congratulations Mom and Dad, it's a boy!"

He placed the baby in my other arm and reminded Spencer, who was still completely astounded, to cut the umbilical cords.

"We have twins?" Spencer whispered increduously, staring at the two small bundles wiggling against my chest.

"We have twins," I repeated, gazing back and forth between my babies and my husband, dumbfounded, "I can't believe it."

The second baby looked exactly like his father. The same brown curls, the same nose, lips, eyes, everything. He was perfect. Both our children were. I'd never felt so much love and joy in my life and I could tell Spencer hadn't either.

"Hi, sweet boy, we were not expecting you, but we are so happy that you're here," I cooed at my son.

"Yes we are. We love you so much, little buddy," Spencer agreed, resting his head on my shoulder as he brushed the boy's cheek lightly with his thumb.

I turned my head to face him and he pressed his lips to mine, murmuring. "I love you and I'm so proud of you."

"I love you too," I murmured back, feeling the warm wetness on my cheeks return as I pressed my forehead to his.

"Congratulations, again. They're adorable," The medic said, warmly as he cleaned everything up.

"Thank you," We answered simultaneously, smiling widely.

When the EMT was done, Spencer moved out from behind me and took the babies so the medics could lift me onto the stretcher. They put a warm blanket over me and then Spencer handed me one of the babies, still wanting to hold one.

Once we got to the hospital, Spencer went with the nurses who took the babies to get checked out. I was taken by other nurses who set me up in a room and made sure I was okay. While he was gone I asked one of my nurses to bring Diana and our friends up to my room.

Diana was a little confused for a minute when she saw me, but luckily her son walked in with a rolling bassinet at just the right moment, parking it next to my bed.

"Spencer's here," I told her softly.

She looked up at him and after a second she rushed into his arms and he embraced her happily, crying.

"Hi, Mom," he murmured.

She pulled back and took his face into her hands. "Don't you ever leave me again."

"I won't," He told her, pulling her back in for a hug. "I love you."

She said it back and after a bit, he was the one to pull back.

"Mom, I have a surprise for you. For all of you, actually," He said, looking at our friends. He smiled as he handed me one baby and then picked up the other and turned to face the group.

Everyone gasped or looked at us wide eyed.

There was a chorus of attempted quiet reactions from the team while Diana moed closer to us, some recognition beginning to spark in her eyes. I could see Garcia using every ounce of her strength not to freak out and accidentally scare her.

"Am I a grandma?" She asked, tentativel.

"Yeah, you are," Spencer answered, warmly.

Diana looked back and forth between us, confused. "But I thought there was only one?"

Spencer chuckled, gesturing to the blue bundle in his arms. "Yeah, we thought so too, until this little guy showed up unannounced."

"He's shocking people just like his father already," She grinned, earning a light laugh from all of us. "Well, do they have names yet?"

"Well, we have a girl name since we knew we were having a daughter, but we are still trying to figure out a boy name since he was a surprise," I answered.

"What's the girl's name?" she asked, sitting on the bed next to me. Spencer sat on my other side.

"Say hello to Amelia Diana Reid," We told her happily as I shifted the pink blanket away from our daughter's face so she could see better.

She gasped again and looked back and forth between Spencer and I in shock once more before smiling and gently hugging us. Awwww's filled the room at the scene.

"The middle name obviously needs no explanation, but the meaning behind the first name is something we want to share. Neither of us had good fathers and I don't have a good mother. So Amelia is the closest thing we could think of as a kind of combination of Aaron and Emily, our work mom and dad,"I explained, smiling adoringly at Emily.

She came over and embraced us carefully. "Thank you. I wish Hotch were here. I think you two are the only ones beside Jack that can get him to smile, and this would definitely turn that stoic frown upside down."

We giggled and so did several of our team members.

I helped Diana hold Amelia for a little bit, and then our son in turn until she started to be less lucid and wanted to rest. Emily had arranged for her to sleep and be cared for in a room close by ours so she could be near us. JJ took her to that room with a nurse and the others left our room for a little while so I could feed the twins. We were burping and changing them when everyone came back.

As soon as she was able to, Penelope pretty much exploded, accidentally interrupting Spencer as he was trying to tell me something. "Oh my gosh TWINS? Two baby geniuses for the price of one! This is the best news ever and I am going to buy tons of stuff for baby boy since you're gonna need double the baby supplies and you only have girl stuff right now and I am going to love them and hug them and be there for them and teach them lots of cool things and-"

"Garcia, breathe," Rossi said, patting her on the back as we all giggled. He turned to us, "Congratulations, both of you."

"Oh they're so precious, guys!"JJ cooed, coming over for a closer look. She was very careful as she hugged us,"You know, anything you need, I'm here for you. Okay?"

"Yeah same, we got you," Luke agreed.

"Well done, Dr. and Mrs, Reid," Tara said in admiration.

"Thanks everyone," we responded happily.

"You did good, mama. The babies are beautiful," Morgan said, leaning down and kissing me on the head as he touched Amelia's hand with his pinky finger. He smiled over at Spencer, "You too, kid. Gideon would be proud of you, you know."

The look on Spencer's face brought me to tears. I'd only been on the team a short time before Gideon left, but I did get to briefly experience the kind, caring, brilliant man he was, who loved Spencer like his own son and knew him better than he knew himself. He even knew the second Spencer and I met that we were falling for each other because he would pair us up a lot and whenever we were together or he caught us looking at one another, he got a look on his face like he was seeing something we were not. He later told Spencer this in his letter and told him to hold on to me and to not let the job get in the way of us. He said to find solace in each other and remind each other of the good things in the world when we were bogged down by all the bad things we saw at work.

This was what finally gave Spencer the courage to ask me out and thank God for that because I was going out of my mind over him by that point and I was so close to just giving up entirely.

Suffice it to say, that man meant the whole world to Spencer and by extention, to me as well. His loss had been beyond devastating for us and I had since been looking for a way to honor his memory....

I looked at my husband, "Hey love, what were you saying before Garcia's outburst?"

"Hmm?" He mumbled, having been pulled out of whatever thought process he was in, "Oh, I was saying I have an idea for our son's name..."

"Oh? What is it?" I asked, curiously.

"I noticed that the medic who delivered the twins had a nametag that said Elliot and I really liked it because it makes me think of the author T.S. Eliot, but also because it reminds me of my friend Elle who used to work with us and who I miss very much. So I was thinking we could name him Elliot, if you're okay with it, of course," He whispered, rambling a bit excitedly.

I knew who Elle was. He and some of the others had talked about her a lot and she seemed like a good person who had just been through a lot. She was like an older sister to Spencer and the name was really cute and meaningful so I was sold.

"I love it...and I have a suggestion for his middle name," I told him, eagerly.

"What?" he asked.

"Gideon," I whispered back, tentatively.

He stared at me for a second with his huge puppy eyes, looking like he was about to cry. He nodded fervently, his eyes moving to his tiny carbon copy sleeping in his arms. He'd barely taken his eyes off the twins since they'd been born and watching him become so enamored by them made me fall even more in love with him.

"Hey guys, we came up with a name for our son," He said out loud, grabbing everyone's attention as he lifted one of the baby's hands, waving it. "I'd like you all to meet Elliot Gideon Reid."

Tara and Luke only partially connected the dots, since they only knew stories of Gideon and Morgan had just mentioned him.

The rest of the team, however, got both names immediately and there was not a dry eye amongst them. More hugs happened and then everyone took their turns holding the twins and talking with us for awhile until they saw us having trouble staying awake. They handed the babies back and quietly made their way out, one by one.

We put the twins in their bassinet and Spencer curled up next to me while we stared at them.

"Welcome to the world, Amelia and Elliot," we whispered. "We love you."

***********************************

EPILOGUE(Spencer POV):

I was reinstated to the FBI, after some substantial time off to be with my wife and new babies, with mandatory sabbaticals every so often. I did my best to balance work and home, actually electing to stay behind with Garcia sometimes so I could be close to home. A few years later, we had another set of twins, this time both showing up on the sonograms. They were a boy and girl again, and we named them Lilliana Jennifer Reid and Theodore Morgan Reid(Lilly and Theo for short).

Then, another year and a half later, we got pregnant with our last child, a complete surprise since we were told we could not have any more. We named her Davina Penelope Reid, Davina being the closest female name to David(for Rossi).

After that, we were done and our family was complete. Of course, the team adored them and spoiled them rotten. We also realized not long after Amelia and Elliot were born that my mom would be much better cared for in a facility, which was very difficult for me to come to terms with. Fortunately, we found an amazing facility nearby. She's actually thriving there and she loves her grandbabies so much. We bring them to visit her or bring her home sometimes. She often reads to them or teaches them about literature and history the way she taught me.

Life is good. And I am thankful for every day with my gorgeous wife, my five wonderful children, my awesome friends and of course, my mother.

***********************************************

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lady-raziel · 1 month

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Cna i... Can I ask what the beef is with M Night Shyamalan?

fair warning, this is a self-indulgently long post. but if you endure the page break, you may find the story entertaining.

a long time ago...in a small indie comic book shop in downtown Philadelphia...

picture this. it's circa 2016. my hyperfixation at the time is DC Comics-- the Flash specifically. I like the Flash, but I really like his nemesis, the Reverse Flash. This guy's gimmick is that he has the same powers as the Flash, but he's also evil because he used to be a Flash stan and his idol didn't validate their parasocial relationship when they actually met in person, and now he just wants to kill the Flash instead. It's a long story. Reverse Flash has died many times. He's also from the future, but that's not the important bit right now.

Anyway, despite being one of the Flash's main enemies, there are not that many comic book issues that feature the Reverse Flash for some reason. My main hobby at the time of this whole ordeal is to go to the local comic book shops and search through the bins of back issues to find anything with the Reverse Flash in it (bonus points if he's on the cover, but at a certain point you can't be picky). I'd been fairly successful at this, and had even been able to avoid buying too much off Ebay as I really didn't care too much about the condition or grade of the comics. The comic book shop in downtown Philly I was in on the day of the Incident was one I'd been to before, but not in a while as I went to school out in the suburbs and didn't leave that general area too much.

So. I enter this shop, and it's not too busy. That's a good thing as it's not a large space and if there were too many people it would have been very difficult to navigate around the displays of Funko Pops and tables of back issues. However, as I was soon about to find out, it doesn't matter if there's only one other person shopping at the same time as you if that person is the wrong person.

I make my way to the back where all the big boxes of old comics are, and scan the rows alphabetically to find the 'Fs.' I see 'Firestorm,' and 'Fantastic Four,' and all the others...but there, right there, where the Flash comics should be...there's a guy. Standing there. In the way.

Now, that's alright. He just seemed to be perusing randomly and wasn't actually looking at the Flash comics specifically (my Flash comics), and I can just go look at the action figures or something until he moves to another section of the shop. No problem. I mean, it's one box of comics, Harold. How long does it take to look through it? 5 minutes? No, all I have to do is wait a little bit and then I can examine those 1980s Flash comics with my own grubby little paws.

So I do a loop of the store. I examine the Funko Pops (they all look the same), the t-shirts (only Hot Topic quality), the new comics (Superman #1? How many times are they going to reboot this thing?), and even the super expensive vintage comics up on the wall (no Reverse Flash here, and it would still be beyond my price point anyway). But when I finally make my way back to the back issues, the guy...is still there. He hasn't moved. And now he's not even pretending to look at the comics anymore.

Now, to my horror, he seems to be having a full-on conversation with one of the store employees right on top of my box of comics, and neither of them seem like they plan to end this discussion anytime soon. You may be asking at this point, "well Raz, if you wanted to look at the comics where they were standing, why didn't you just ask them to move out of the way?" You're right. I could have done that.

But problem. I have social anxiety. And sometimes it gets very bad about very small things. So while it would have been entirely reasonable to ask these two men to move their conversation elsewhere, the crippling social anxiety made it so that asking for that very small and reasonable thing would have been akin to asking these guys if they would set me on fire right here right now, please and thank you. It wasn't gonna happen. My only option was to hover uncomfortably 6 feet away, pretending to go through the back issues systematically and hope they picked up on what I was doing and moved out of the way when I got back to the 'Fs,' or give up and suffer an hour and a half on the SEPTA train back home with nothing to show for it.

now, i've never had a conversation with famous filmmaker and director M Night Shyamalan. I didn't even know what he looked like at the time, so when all this happened I thought he was just Some Guy who in his unawareness was keeping me from completing my mission. Maybe he's a really engaging conversationalist and talking with him causes you to not notice anything going on around you. That may even be the case-- as neither the Twistmaster himself or the besotted store employee seemed to notice I was there. But I WAS there. And my frantic silent social cues were being "returned to sender," unread.

Meanwhile I was enduring a level of internal turmoil on the level of a character in a Greek tragedy. This was my crucible. Surrender, or do something I was honor-bound not to do. Was this the meaning of an impossible choice?

It was only after almost 15 long, agonizing minutes and two more laps of the store on my part that finally, finally there was a breakthrough. Unaware Man (for this would be Shyamalan's superhero code name) and Employee-Bro had moved to the cash register, as the former had found something he wanted to buy. With speed rivaling the Flash himself, I descended on the fated box of comics like a plague. It seemed that the day had not been lost after all.

However, like any film from the man himself, there was to be a final twist to this tale. One last turn of the knife. You might be thinking-- "And it turned out that there weren't any comics in the box you wanted to buy after all, rendering this whole ordeal meaningless, right? Like any tragic hero you endured the terrible trials only to discover that the treasure you sought was a hollow fantasy of your own creation, and this all could have been avoided if you had not fallen prey to the follies of man?"

No. The problem was-- I did find several comics in that box that I wanted to buy. I even found one with the Reverse Flash on the cover. But now that I had found my prize, I faced a new, even greater challenge, which was somewhat an extension of the old challenge, but to the extreme.

I now had to get Employee-Bro to ring me up so I could leave this cursed place, but here's the kicker: I had to do this while he was still utterly engaged in discussion with Unaware Man and thus blind to the outside world. I had come out of the frying pan and into the fire, because now it wasn't like I could just go home and take only a feeling of defeat with me. My precious comic book finds were on the line, and what was I going to do? Just put them back in the box and leave?

Unfortunately, I was committed. I would have to stand reasonably out of the way of Unaware Man's personal space yet close enough to indicate that I was, yes, in line to check out my purchases. And goddamnit, I was going to do this until all of us died of old age or the world ended.

I kind of lost all sense of time at that point. It could have been only a few minutes. It could have been five hours. All I know is that it was long enough that I wished for the sweet release of death, because then at least I'd be able to lie down. How it eventually went down was that Employee-Bro rung up Unaware Man (because really, processing a credit card transaction and signing the receipt only can take so long), and the two continued to talk as Employee-Bro gradually gained awareness that I Was There Too, and multitasked to check out my items while remaining totally focused on his other conversation and not speaking a word to me.

And that was it. I was free, from the physical prison of the comic book store at least. But again, like a Shyamalan film, this was in reality only the end of the second act. Because as I walked through the streets of Center City Philadelphia and rested my head against the smudged window of the SEPTA train on the way home, I started to descend into the mental turmoil of the question, "wait, who was that guy? Was he like...famous, or something?"

If you've ever been to a comic con or spent enough time in a hobby shop, you know that sometimes Nerd Bros can get really deep into conversation about these sorts of things. Many of them even have lots of opinions on films, and will be happy to share them in detail unprompted. So it wasn't entirely unreasonable for me not to realize in the moment that what was happening wasn't just "Nerd Bros Being Dudes."

But the more I thought about it, the one-sided adoring dynamic between Employee Bro and Unaware Man did seem unusual. And in the bits of their conversation that I had been forced to endure, hadn't one of them mentioned something about...filming locations? What was that about? Nobody in their right mind films stuff in Philly unless they're making the 86th Rocky film or the like.

It was a Google search of "movies filming in Philadelphia" that returned several results of articles talking about how location scouting was going on in the area as part of the production of a long-awaited sequel to the 2000 film Unbreakable, a undercover superhero sleeper hit. Unbreakable, a film set in Philadelphia, written and directed by famous filmmaker M Night Shyamalan.

Shyamalan. SHYAMALAN. the man responsible for 2010's The Last Airbender. it was HIM. he was not only the man who originated the (still unbroken!) curse on the Avatar franchise, but also the man who had ruined my day. Thoughtlessly. Carelessly. Not by massacring a beloved children's television franchise, but by being unaware. Inconceivable.

This was horrific. It wasn't even like I was the Reverse Flash or any other famous superhero nemesis, who had a compelling backstory causing their undying hatred of the hero. Instead, I now had a narrative foil who barely even fit that description, because chances are he hadn't even taken notice of my existence the whole time! This was my supervillain origin story, and it was his normal day!

It was at this moment I swore an oath. I would not forget this terrible day of inconvenience that was partially caused by my own social failings. I would dedicate my life from this point forward to slightly narrowing my eyes and shaking my head disapprovingly when I saw mentions of Shyamalan or his works online. I would color any opinions I had of his films with the thought, "but remember that one time he was kind of a dick to you without even meaning it? what was up with that?"

and that is the tale of my tragic encounter with M Night Shyamalan. To this day, my only solace is that my epic origin story turned out more narratively coherent and with deeper substance than any other film made in the Unbreakable saga, including the one he was location scouting for at the time this happened. Shyamalan can write twists all he wants, but no one is better at that game than karma itself.

-END-

#not included in this narrative retelling: me raising a fist into the air and shouting 'SHYAMALAN!!!' like i'm in star trek wrath of khan #if you read all that you deserve a medal #if there's ever a cinematic adaptation of this event it can only be made by shyamalan himself

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squash1 · 8 months

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An essay on what makes Gansey, Gansey.

Go.

okay. strap in.

in this essay i will examine how, ultimately, what makes gansey, gansey is his experience with death at an early age and how that is fundamentally about a loss of childhood.

to understand what makes gansey, gansey you have to look at gansey’s two lives. gansey was born into a wealthy family — the kind of family that passes down names father to son and has buildings then built in that name. until gansey was 10, we can assume he fit into this affluent world without issue. little gansey was most likely a spoiled little rich kid — not a bad person but inherently out of touch because of the reality he was born into. when gansey dies the first time, it changes his perception of reality — he has an understanding of time and mortality that most adults don’t have never mind ten year olds. this first death is a representation of an early end to gansey’s childhood. he no longer easily fits into the wealthy, laid back world he was born into. we have to assume that until gansey went to stay with mallory, he was in DC with his parents trying to fit into their world but instead feeling intensely isolated and lonely. because even though gansey changed, his parents didn’t.

mallory is an important figure because of the time he represents in gansey’s life. we know from mallory that at 14 gansey struggled intensely with anxiety, that he hadn’t yet learned to present only his shiny gansey mask to the world. but instead of being dismissive, mallory showed gansey kindness and empathy — he was perhaps gansey’s first friend because sometimes delightfully weird old british men are exactly what a teenager needs. mallory helped gansey in his quest, but he also helped him to discover this new version of himself by making him feel not only safe but like there were other people beyond his parent’s world that would understand this pull and fascination he had.

understanding this backstory is key to understanding what makes gansey, gansey, because an intimate knowledge of death is what has produced this gansey that we meet in the raven boys. the gansey we meet is silly and strange and charming. he uses phrases like “hey, tiger” and drinks organic apple juice from the bottle, he has a favorite yellow sweater and is vocal about his love for it. and that’s just gansey, those are ganseyisms as i like to say. gansey has chosen to live his life with childlike wonder and whimsy because he lost that at an early age but doesn’t want to loose it forever. he has decided to embrace the weird, unknown parts of life. he is essentially reclaiming his time. he’s saying yes i know that there is death and darkness in the world, yes i have seen it first hand, yes i still feel it sometimes but i am going to live my life hopefully. gansey has carved out a life for himself in henrietta — a town that in and of itself makes him feel known, but also contains a piece of his old world in aglionby — and has slowly found people who fit, who feel right, who are 1,000 years old just like him. gansey has been lonely for a lot of his life but he found people who were lonely like he was lonely, that were looking for the something more just like he was looking for the something more. he is a compelling leader not because of money or status, but because his hope and quest and belief are real and made real because of gansey’s relationship to mortality. he has made it his mission to build a life he wants, even if it’s short, even if he’s scared. what makes gansey, gansey is his ability to choose hope anyway, to choose to live anyway.

if you made it this far, i love u

#this is exactly the kind of ask i live for thank you anon <3 #I LOVE GANSEY SM GODDDDDD #richard campbell gansey iii #trc #the raven boys #the dream thieves #blue lily lily blue #the raven cycle #the raven king #the gangsey #gangsey #ronan lynch #adam parrish #blue sargent #pynch #adam and ronan #bluesey #mine #ask

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dairy-farmer · 2 months

Note

Did you know~? Dreams are how the mind subconsciously processes information and our emotions ABOUT the information for us while we are asleep?

:Dc

Gotham Sure Does Have Cults! Don't it? Bet some of them get the bright idea to Capture God(tm). Which ALWAYS ends well, and TOTALLY doesn't lend to them fighting back! Getting the attention of Local Bats!

What with the Lethal, Diving People Too Insanity Nightmares going around.

They're gonna go out on a limb and guess Dream God. Sleep Deity, perhaps. The track the Cult down. Burst in and kick ass. As a Family~

And? The God can admit... they were kinda losing. Humans cheat and these fuckers were VERY prepared. They were gonna Curse this city to unending torment with their dying breathe... BUT! They don't need to do that now! Good for you!

They should probably...reward you or something.

Protocol, you know.

Uuuuuuh, hold on. *look around* Got it! Here. Take these handfull of shiny rocks. Yes, I'm stealing them from the Cultists. They were decorating anyway. Anyway! HERE. I give you A Blessing(tm).

THESE will give you Good Sleep.

One for each of you.

To make up for, you know, tormenting you into intense sleep deprivation, when that is the opposite of my Job. And then you saved me and all. Thanks~☆ *poof!*

It's? A fuckin weird day in Gotham. So basically, just Tuesday. They each take a rock and split, dispite Bruce's paranoid "wait, no! We should lock these up and stare at them suspiciously! Unknown magic! I have anxiety!" Twitching. They're gonna go pass out know. Someone call the commissioner and tell him it's safe now.

They get home, crawl out of their uniforms, into their various beds (even Bruce, as bullied and enforced by Alfred) and give no real thought to their new, divinely gifted, Dream Rock. Probably should have. The magic users would have Lost Their SHIT over those rocks. But, Bats? Telling people things? Voluntarily???

LOL.

And? Of too the first genuinely peaceful, guilt free, nightmare free, night of sleep they've had in A WHILE. As the Rocks get a feel for them. What they WANT out of a Good Sleep experience. Is it walking on the beach? Beating up bad guys and saving the day? A night at home? The Dream Stones shuffling through Pleasant Memories and Happy Thoughts looking for material to work off of.

And... huh. They wake up feeling FANTASTIC.

Turns out? When you actually DO get a good night's rest? No tossing or turning, no night terrors or full body clenching of muscles? Your body heals up. You feel better.

Wild.

These rocks are fantastic.

The give it now more thought. Oh sure, they discuss it. Trial period etc. But? It's all just peaceful meadows and seeing loved ones happy. The classics. Expected, really. So they move on. All while the stones are still finishing their Refining.

Eventually? Ding! They're done! They've gotten a full read of their owner! Know EXACTLY what they want. What would make them happy. So, when the Bat's finally hit the hay? They run their REFINED Dream sequence. Dreaming PLUS, if you will.

It's a school night. So Damian, unfairly in his mind, must go to bed first. Though sleep is not the unpleasant thing it once was. Usually filled with fluffy animals. This time? It's different.

He dreams of entering the Batcave. Taller, stronger. The height and frame he is destined to inherit from his father, finally his. The black armor of The Bat adorning him. Timothy is there. Captured, arms bound behind his back, gagged and on his knees, face pressed to the floor. His armor almost artfully destroyed by battle.

He has cat ears and a tail.

Yet this, like every other jarring detail, seems so perfectly natural. Of course he does. Of course Damian is. Nothing is strange to Damian, as he observes the ears pressed back. The whipping, furious defiance of that tail. The low growl that goes with it. Timothy's eyes catching the light. Beautiful and unbreakable.

Damian strides forward.

They back and forth. Word play sharp and cutting. But Damian has WON and they both know it. Timothy fights now only to save face. Enough is enough. Timothy is haughty. Every bit, beautiful and feline.

Damian has his mouth and DARES him to bite him.

Tear apart the ruins of his armor and claims him on the floor. Is he little NOW, Timothy? Can you ignore him still? The game is over. Admit you've lost! Admit it! The pleasure is too much. His Rival thrashing, biting his lip. Trying to hold back. Unable too in the end. Damian wins. Timothy begs. More, more. Please, it is good. More!

Damian...was NOT aware of the root of his need to fight with Tim. Will not know how to face him come morning.

In his Apartment, Dick drags his aching body into bed. It was a shit day. At least his dreams will be nice. He falls asleep. Blinks "awake" with an OOF! As Tim lands on him with a laugh. Is confused but pleased to see him.

Tim clings. Dotes on him. Bringing breakfast, activities just for them, initiating more casual touch then he has in YEARS. Then? When they get back from what feels like the perfect day out? Dick finds himself doing something he would never DARE. Coming up behind that trusting, warm, cute little body. As Tim chatters and puts things away. And slipping his arms around him. Holding him.

Kissing his neck. Slipping his hand down the front of those cute shorts, to start rubbing him through his panties. Get him wet.

Picking him up and bending him over the back of a couch, so he can tug those bottoms down. Eat him out. Make filthy promises to treat his virgin hole just right. Keep him forever. Listen to him whine and feel him squirm, having never been touched like this before.

Dick wouldn't... wouldn't...

But the dream feels so good. Carrying his Timmy to his room, like a lover. Promising to take such good care of him. Fucking him open on his fingers, then his cock. Kissing his face and neck and perfect little tits. Grinding his clit with his thumb as he finds that perfect angle and pounds til Tim has nothing left to give.

Just the two of them against the world. As pretty little family.

Which will make things awkward with Babs, if she wasn't having her own dreams.

Sitting at her computer. Watching Tim writhing and coming apart at the touch of her keystrokes. Making him wear remote controlled toys. Matching them on herself. Lazy days at the Clockwork, with Tim beneath her desk, a fucking machine in him, his desperate mouth on her.

Flashes and scenarios of what she and Dick could DO to him. Watching Dick fuck her boy sloppy. Not letting EITHER of her boys stop until she was satisfied.

Jason getting a classic. Boyfriend shirt and pizza. Railed on his shitty couch as the movie plays. Like lovers. Newlyweds. Coming home and trying to put a baby in Timmers on his fancy ass mattress in a cheap ass frame. Full on mating press, legs basicly to his ears. Timbers begging for it, needy. Taking it like a champion.

And Bruce? Oh he gets silks and his mothers pearls. The suits he wishes he could get Tim to wear, with stockings hidden underneath. Dinner and dancing. Gotham at peace. Tim looking at him with adoration.

Like a Classy Romance from the movies of his youth. Everything rose petals and candle light. Tim TAKING it, dispite how difficult it is for partners to handle him. Everything being tight and slick and hot. Bruce being ruinous in how good he is. No one will ever be able to compare. Tim is his. Just his.

Waking up and nearly yeeting the Dram Stone through the nearest wall.

Tim of course... dream fucks several teammates, a couple Hot Celebrities, and that one GORGEOUS Alien Prince from that one mission when he was like 14. *siiiiiips morning coffee* was an interesting night. Given everyone's thousand yard stare, good to see it wasn't just him who Learned Some Stuff About Themselves last night.

He'll agree not to ask if they don't?

DEAL.

-🐼🐼🐼

everyone but tim grappling with their own existence, morality, and guilt at the breakfast table 😭😭😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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froggibus · 11 months

Note

Jason Todd (any version) x reader (preferably female) where Jason helps reader through an anxiety attack? Or a panic attack, if that's easier for you. And with as much fluff as possible, please?

Chilling Out - Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: during a party at Wayne manor, you have a panic attack, but Jason knows just how to help you

CW: panic/anxiety attacks, tight spaces (but no claustrophobia), crying, general anxiety (O7), hurt/comfort, mentions of past trauma & triggers, soft!Jason, they get ice cream, i promise it ends very wholesome. lmk if i missed anything

i haven't wrote DC in a hot minute but this request was too cute not to write. im so soft for soft Jason!! also shoutout to my trog for helping me come up w a title bcs i am dumb today. anyways hope you enjoy <3

————

Jason knows very little about your past. Or at least, the bad parts of your past. You were always hesitant to share that part of your life with anyone, and Jason was never one to pry.

Even if he didn’t recognize the trigger, he recognizes what comes next.

That vacant, scared look on your face. The rapid, shallow rise and fall of your chest. He notices the way you’re almost shaking, the way your eyes dart around the room looking for an escape.

You lose more and more air with every breath. The manor is absolutely packed with guests for Bruce’s most recent gala, and having so many people in so little space is overwhelming. You dig your nails into your palms. I have to get out.

Jason is frozen across the room from you. He’s torn—stuck between running to you and wrapping you in his arms and never letting go, or letting you be and giving you the space you need to calm down. He knows if the roles were reversed, he’d want to be left alone. He’d go and hide in a comforting space and try to regain control of his thoughts. But you’re not him.

He blinks and you’re gone, tearing away from the main foyer and escaping into the safety of the house.

You collapse in the closet of a random room. The darkness accepts you into his arms, surrounding you like a blanket. You squeeze your eyes shut and contract all of your muscles, trying to force air back into your system.

Jason doesn’t realize he’s following you until the cold air of the grand entrance hits him. You’re completely out of his sight now, having disappeared into one of the many rooms of Wayne manor. He pinches the bridge of his nose—where could you possibly be?

He starts searching the rooms on the ground floor, careful not to be too loud and accidentally startle you. After none of the rooms on the ground floor turn up anything, he starts to climb the stairs. He only makes it two steps before he hears a sob that sounds a little too familiar.

He backs up, eyes locked on the closet that Bruce keeps winter coats in. It’s tucked just out of the way of any prying eyes, at the end of a hallway near Bruce’s study. It’s quiet, enclosed and of course, dark. The perfect spot to hide in.

“Y/n?” He keeps his voice soft and even, kneeling just outside of the closet.

You sniffle in response, strained gasps echoing off the walls of the closet. How did he find you? How did he know?

He slowly pulls open the door, giving you enough time to hide your face or protest if you need to. A sliver of light from the hallway breaks through the darkness of the closet and illuminates your face. Jason’s heart breaks at the sight.

Poor thing. All teary eyed and wet cheeked, shaking like a leaf at the bottom of an old closet. He shakes his head. This won’t do.

“Hey, hey,” he says, “it’s safe here. It’s just us. Just you and I.”

You hear his words but it’s hard to register anything in your panicked state. Your breathing stays erratic, your heart beats so hard you’re scared it will burst. You can see Jason through the black spots and tears, but just barely. He looks more like a broken mirror than a person right now, but it’s Jason.

“Are you okay if I touch you?”

As soon as you nod, Jason is pulling you into his lap and shutting the closet door to return you to darkness. Strong arms hold you close to his chest and his scent surrounds you.

“Close your eyes, okay? Focus on your breathing, focus on what you feel, not what you think.”

You try to follow his instructions, managing to relax enough to shut your eyes. You can feel the warmth radiating off of him, the steady bump of his heartbeat, his hands resting above your belly button. You can smell his cologne, the familiar scent filling your nostrils and reminding you that he’s really there.

Jason keeps himself sturdy. He keeps his breathing steady and his hands still. You need stability right now, and Jason is going to be the one to give it to you. He doesn’t care if he has to hold you for an hour, or even the entire night. All he cares about is you.

Your breathing starts to steady and the burning in your chest fades. You try not to push yourself—taking slow, gentle breaths.

“Feeling better?” He asks, and suddenly you’re painfully aware that you’re sitting in his lap, in his arms, in a dark closet.

“Y-yeah,” you say, “I think so.”

He nods. “Great to hear.”

Jason awkwardly adjusts so that he can stand, opening the closet door. He reaches a hand out to you. “How about we ditch this thing? We get rid of these stuffy clothes, take a ride on my bike and get some ice cream?”

Jason almost bursts at the genuine smile that fills your face. It’s like clouds parting to let the sun rays through—a reward after seeing you break down in his arms.

“That sounds great,” you accept his hand and let him tug you to your feet. “I’ll go get changed.”

Ten minutes later and Jason is waiting at your door, having traded his suit for jeans and a t-shirt. “Ready to go?”

He takes your hand in his and leads you downstairs, out of the backdoor and to the garage where he parked his motorcycle. He helps you do up your chin strap, calloused hands gently rubbing the sensitive skin of your neck.

You mount the back of the bike, your feet barely scraping the ground. Jason puts on his own helmet and climbs in front of you. He revs the bike, “you should hold on.”

You lean forwards awkwardly and wrap your arms loosely around his waist. Jason seems satisfied with this and takes off. As soon as the bike lurches into motion, your grip tightens around him. You swear you hear him laugh.

The cool night air feels nice on your once clammy skin, the familiar smell of the city surrounding you. Jason drives carefully, or at least, more carefully than he usually does. You can tell he’s making a great effort to keep you comfortable.

You relax into him, feeling the curves of the bike as you make your way into the city. The streets of Gotham fly by, amber streetlights casting the whole street in a soft glow.

You feel almost disoriented when he brings the bike to a stop in a parking stall next to the ice cream parlor. The sudden cease of motion leaves you feeling like you’re still moving, and you have to wait a minute to get your bearings.

Jason puts down the kickstand and climbs off of the bike, hanging his shiny black helmet from the handlebars. “Here,” he offers you a hand and helps you down.

Your knees shake slightly but you find your balance. You take off the helmet and set it on the seat of the bike where you just were.

“So, what’s your go-to flavor?”

You smile. Jason has never been one for small talk, and he’s definitely never been as gentle as he’s being now. You melt at the idea of him being extra careful with you.

“It’s so hard to decide, honestly,” you admit. “I usually get the same thing every time, but sometimes I want to switch it up, you know?”

He nods, “I’m usually a mint chocolate chip or rocky road guy myself, but I like to mix it up sometimes.”

You spend almost five minutes discussing ice cream flavors with Jason. It doesn’t help that this particular place boasts over 100 flavors, and all of them sound equally delicious. Finally, you manage to decide and step up to the counter to order.

You order your ice cream, but before you can pay, Jason steps up behind you and places his order with yours. You go to protest, but the man is already tapping his card.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly.

“Hey, if I invite you out for ice cream, don’t expect to pay.”

You get your ice cream and settle down at one of the picnic benches in the parking lot. It’s a nice, warm night, and there’s not very many people around. Usually you’d be afraid to be out this late in Gotham but having Jason around just settles your nerves.

“Thank you for tonight, Jay. It—it really means a lot to me that you helped me.”

You swear his cheeks tinge red. He looks at you seriously, “anytime. Seriously, if you ever need me, no matter what, just call me, okay? I’ll be there for you in a heartbeat.”

His words almost have you tearing up again. Seeing Jason so soft, so kind and caring—it just makes your heart flutter. He reaches across the table and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

A peaceful silence falls over the table as you finish your ice cream. Jason never takes his hand away from yours, and you’re not quite sure you want him to. If you could live like this, with him, in this moment forever, you’re sure you’d never have another panic attack again.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood fluff #jason todd fluff #Jason Todd hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #dc #batfam #arkham knight

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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months

Text

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 9 | S.R

Not my gif. Does not depict appearance of reader.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - a night spent at Rossi’s leads to some incredibly hot sex and some difficult conversations about your future together.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - drinking, swearing, tipsy and horny reader, fingering, handjobs, public sex, car sex, slight cock warming, penetrative sex, protected sex, angst.

WC - 7.1k

Chapter 9 - As it Seems

Well in this life you must find something to live for,

'Cause when the darkness comes a callin',

You'll go back to where you were before.

'Cause this life is as,

Fragile as a dream, and,

Nothing's ever really,

As it seems.

Rossi had happily agreed to let Spencer and you use his cabin for a weekend away, but he wouldn’t be Rossi if it didn’t come with a stipulation.

He was fine with the two of you using his cabin, if he met you first.

Luke and Garcia had agreed to sit the girls for the evening and had taken Roxy with them over to Spencer’s that Friday night.

The girls adored their Aunty Penelope and Uncle Luke and were ecstatic to spend the evening with them.

So that was how you ended up on the doorstep of an extremely grand house in DC, wearing your best black satin dress and heels, hand sweating in Spencer’s.

“My entire apartment building could fit inside the house.” You swallowed a lump in your throat as Spencer rang the doorbell.

“Yeah it’s pretty daunting the first time you see it. But I guess I’ve gotten used to it.” He chuckled breezily, giving your hand a squeeze.

You looked him up and down out of the corner of your eye.

He looked positively fuckable in his deep burgundy shirt, black tie and slacks. You felt a heat flood between your legs and you wondered why the two of you hadn’t skipped dinner in lieu of other activities.

Sensing you looking at him he turned, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Mind out of the gutter, angel.” He winked at you. “At least for now anyway.”

You opened your mouth to reply but suddenly the door was opening and an older man with completely silver hair and beard and the kindest eyes you’d ever seen, was smiling at you both.

“Spencer!” He practically cheered and Spencer let go of your hand so he could embrace Rossi.

Rossi gave him a kiss on each cheek, looking pleased to see his old friend.

“It’s good to see you kid.”

“And you Dave.” Spencer stepped back and placed his hand on your lower back, edging you forward. “This is Y/N.”

“Benvenuta!” He exclaimed, placing his hands on your shoulders and kissing both of your cheeks too. “It’s very nice to meet you Y/N.”

“Likewise sir.” You chewed on your lip nervously.

“Oh come on now, sir makes me feel old. Call me Dave. Come inside.” He stepped away from the door and motioned you both in. “Krystall sends her apologies but she’s gone to visit Portia for the weekend.”

“Ah that’s a shame.” Spencer guided you with a hand on your back towards the door.

He felt your body tense as you moved closer to the house. He thought it was adorable how nervous you got around his friends.

You were usually so confident so seeing this side of you allowed Spencer a glimpse into another facet of your personality, another thing that made you who you are.

You weren’t normally uneasy around new people, you’d spoken to him just fine when you’d met.

So the only logical explanation for your anxiety around his friends was because you were scared they wouldn’t like you.

And you wanted them to like you because you liked Spencer.

Rossi ushered you in and closed the door and your wide eyes and slack jaw as you took in the entrance way wasn’t lost on either man.

The floor your heels clacked on as you walked was a stunning cream marbled with grey swirls. An expansive staircase with large dark oak bannisters rose to the second floor.

Intricate and what you could only assume was very expensive pieces of art hung from the walls. The ceilings were high and vaulted.

Rossi took your coats and hung them on a large, ornate silver coat rack.

He motioned you through to the kitchen where you were met the delectable smell of frying bacon and garlic.

The kitchen was just as grand as the entrance way, with every possible kind of appliance dotted around the large marble countertops.

But it was clear they all went to good use.

Rossi quickly moved to the stove to stir the pasta sauce before turning back and giving you both a large smile.

“Carbonara alla Rossi, I didn’t think to ask Spencer if you ate meat.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“I do.” You nodded. “I eat pretty much anything.”

“Favoloso!” He clapped his hands together before slinging a dish cloth over his shoulder. “Can I get either of you a glass of wine?”

“I’ll have one with dinner but I’m driving.” Spencer replied, wrapping his arm around you again, his palm resting on your lower back.

His warm touch allowed you to relax a little.

“Y/N, please tell me you will join me for a pre-dinner glass of vino?” Rossi looked at you expectedly.

You glanced up at Spencer as though you needed permission to drink and Spencer chuckled.

“Do let me stop you, angel.” He rubbed your back a little.

You nodded and turned back to Rossi with a smile.

“Merlot please, if you have it.”

“If I have it?” He chuckled heartily. “My dear, I have a wine cellar full to the brim with wines from before you were even born. I’ll be right back. Make sure my pancetta doesn’t burn!”

Rossi hurried off and Spencer turned you so you were facing him.

He stroked your hair back from your face and looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

It was a new look, one you couldn’t place. Usually when he looked at you his eyes were full of lust but this was different.

“He’s eccentric.” You whispered, having to tiptoe to kiss him even in your heels.

“That’s certainly one way to describe him.” Spencer laughed against your lips. “I like this. You meeting my friends.”

Your heart swelled at the happiness emanating from him as he kissed you again.

“I like it too.”

He certainly wasn’t ready for you to meet his kids but this was a nice start.

He kissed you once more, a little deeper than before and you both didn’t notice Rossi reentering the room until you heard a cry.

“Aye! My pancetta!”

***

Lily was half asleep on the living room floor, lazily stroking Taco’s belly. Daisy sat cross legged on the couch trying to listen into her Aunty Penelope and Uncle Luke’s chatter in the kitchen over the sound of the TV.

Roxy was on the couch with her, her head resting in Daisy’s lap while Daisy absent-mindedly scratched behind her ear.

Eventually she pushed herself up, gently moving the large dog aside and padding towards the kitchen.

Penelope and Luke had their backs to the door, fussing over how to make the best hot cocoa.

Penelope was insisting they boil the milk in the pan but Luke was adamant it was just the same in the microwave.

“It’s just lazy!” Penelope grumbled.

“It doesn’t taste any different.” Luke argued.

“We’ll see shall we? You make your heathen cocoa and I’ll make my delicately light and fluffy cocoa and we’ll see which the girls prefer.” She gave him a challenging look through her thick pink frames.

“Oh you are so on woman. Just you wait. You’re about to be a very sore-”

“Does my dad have a girlfriend?” Daisy suddenly spoke up causing Luke and Penelope’s backs to go rigid.

She saw them exchange a look before turning to face her.

“Uh…sorry?” Penelope squeaked a little.

Daisy cradled her cast and gave them a look that said, I’m not an idiot.

Their expressions, no matter how hard they tried to hide them, told her the answer.

“That’s a yes then.” She smiled a little.

“Uh…” Luke looked at Garcia before looking back at Daisy.

He had a lot of nieces and he knew to find out the facts before he admitted to anything. He felt a little like an unsub being interrogated.

If he found out why Daisy thought that, he might be able to counter her points.

“What makes you think that?” He moved across the room towards her.

“I grew up around profilers, Uncle Luke, I know what you’re trying to do.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I saw a lady leaving the house last week and dad kissed her.”

Luke looked at Garcia over his shoulder and she just shrugged.

He exhaled before looking back at the teenager.

“Right. I don’t suppose I can spin that another way, can I?”

“Nope.” Daisy giggled. “So it’s true? He has a girlfriend?”

“It’s…he’s dating.” Garcia scurried over on her too high heels. “He met someone. She’s lovely.”

“She’s very pretty.” Daisy nodded. “Is he happy?”

Luke and Garcia both melted at her question. It was too adorable that all Daisy cared about was her fathers happiness.

“I think so, kid.” Luke smiled at her.

“I want him to be happy.” Daisy nodded. “Why hasn’t he told us?”

Again Luke and Garica looked at each other, subconsciously trying to work out the best way to answer that.

She was so much like her dad and there was no lying to Spencer. He always saw right through them and no doubt his daughter would too.

“They’ve just met. It’s still early days. But I’m sure at some point he will tell you. But after your mom…he’s scared.” Luke tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I just want him to be happy.” She repeated.

“He is, sweet pea.” Garcia wrapped her arm around Daisy and bowed her head to kiss her hair. “Just give him time, ok?”

“And maybe don’t tell Lily yet.” Luke added.

“Ok.” Daisy agreed with a small smile. “Lily’s terrible at keeping secrets.”

Garcia ruffled her hair a little with a laugh.

“You still want cocoa?”

“Yes please!” Daisy cheered.

“Go in the living room with your sister.” Luke patted her back.

“Ok!” She turned towards the door but as she reached it, she turned back to look at the grown-up’s. “Oh Uncle Luke?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re bonkers if you think microwave milk is going to taste the same as boiled milk.” She shot him a cheeky grin before hurrying back into the living room.

“Son of a bitch.” Luke laughed.

“Told you.” Garcia grinned smugly. “Saucepan please.”

***

“You got shot in the leg?” You glared wide eyed at Spencer over your wine glass, a slightly amused smile on your lips.

“It wasn’t as bad as he’s making it out to be.” Spencer rolled his eyes.

“You used a cane for months, kid.” Rossi laughed.

“Ok so it was kind of bad. But it was a long time ago. And it only hurts every so often.” Spencer tried to downplay it.

Dinner was incredible and after a few glasses of wine your nerves had eased up. Rossi had made you feel so welcome which also helped you relax.

You were now in his impressive study, sinking down into a large leather armchair with Spencer on his own next to you.

He’d reached across the space between you and had been holding your hand the whole time.

You finished the remains of your wine while Rossi swirled his scotch around his glass.

“I tell ya, the stories I could tell you about Reid-”

“Let’s save that for another time, shall we?” Spencer cut him off. “I’d rather it we didn’t scare Y/N off.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all the good doctors' gory secrets one day.” Rossi winked at you.

Spencer patted your hand and you nodded, leaning forward to put your empty glass on the coffee table.

“I should get back and relieve Luke and Garcia of babysitting duty.” Spencer let go of your hand and pushed himself up from the chair.

You followed suit, as did Rossi.

“How they think the team doesn’t know they’re dating is beyond me.” Rossi chuckled.

He led you out into the entrance way and handed you both your coats.

“Thank you so much Dave, dinner was wonderful and it was so nice to meet you.” You smiled a little dreamily, Spencer could see the alcohol had gone to your head a little.

“The pleasure, my dear, is all mine.” He gripped your face and kissed both of your cheeks with gusto.

As you slipped on your coat he gave the same treatment to Spencer.

“She’s great, kid. Don’t let her go.” He whispered into Spencer’s ear.

“Duly noted.” Spencer smiled warmly.

He opened the door and placed his hand on your lower back to guide you towards it.

“Buona notte.” Rossi waved the two of you off.

You waved back and started down the stairs ahead of Spencer.

“Reid?” Rossi called him before he got too far.

“Yeah?”

“The two of you are welcome to my cabin anytime.”

“Thanks Dave. Goodnight.”

“G’night kid.”

Spencer hurried down the stairs after you, taking hold of your hand and bringing it to his lips before he brushed them over your knuckles.

You swayed a little in your heels as you looked up at him.

The moon was peaking between the clouds and caught your eye as you looked at him.

It caused your eyes to sparkle in such a magical way Spencer almost lost his footing. That paired with the smile tugging at the corners of your lips, the one you seemed to reserve just for him, lit a fire in Spencer.

And at that moment on Rossi’s driveway, he found himself handing over all the remains of the shattered fragments of his heart to you and praying to a god he didn’t believe in that you were the one who could help piece them back together.

***

You rambled on on the drive home, your tipsy words making Spencer laugh as he drove.

You were animatedly gesticulating with your hands as you spoke, almost hitting him a few times.

He tried to remain focused on the road but your wild arm movements kept garnering his attention.

“I’m going to get in an accident if you don’t calm down.” He chuckled, easily grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and placing them in your lap.

“Sorry.” You chewed your lip. “I’m a little tipsy.”

“I can tell.” He returned his hand to the wheel with an amused smile.

“A little tipsy.” You repeated, turning your body in the chair so you could look at him. “And a lot horny.”

Spencer almost swerved the car off the road and gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles instantly turned white.

“Fuck, Y/N.” His cock was immediately awake. “Don’t say things like that. My girls are home.”

“Didn’t say we needed to go home.” You reached over the centre console and palmed his already hardening cock through his slacks.

His toes curled in his shoes and he hissed.

“Fuck.” He swallowed, tightening his hold on the steering wheel. “W-what are you suggesting?”

“A dark alley and a bad idea.” You pressed your palm against his erection and he jolted a little in his seat.

“You will be the death of me.” He growled. “Thank fuck I put those condoms in my bag.”

He was quick to locate a dark and desolate side street, barely able to see through the lust clouding his vision.

It was a narrow alley, barely bigger than Spencer’s car and the only light was from the moon still creeping between the clouds.

He practically slammed on the brakes and shut off the engine, unbuckling his belt in a flash and turning to you with dark eyes.

“Come here then angel,” he patted his lap. “Or are you all talk?”

You fumbled undoing your belt in excitement and Spencer had to help you out of it before he was pulling you towards him and having you straddle his lap.

The seat was already back as far as it would go due to his long legs and a car that wasn’t strictly made for a man of his stature.

Your dress rode up your thighs and you instantly started grinding his lap while he roughly gripped the back of your neck and crashed your lips together.

You moaned into his mouth as his free hand wandered your thigh, wasting no time in moving your panties aside.

He hissed into your mouth when he felt how wet the fabric was already and the heat that emanated from you made him dizzy.

The two of you didn’t get to be alone often and he was too eager to wait. He dove two fingers inside your waiting cunt and you bucked against his hand, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He returned the favour by roughly thrusting them upwards and curling them against your bundle of nerves.

Your tongue hungrily explored his mouth, navigating every inch of his mouth. Your hands swatted at his belt, desperately trying to free him from his slacks. It took a few failed attempts before you got it undone and popped open the button on his pants.

Your hand sunk inside his boxers, moving the fabric enough to let his throbbing member escape. You stroked his length as he continued fucking his fingers inside of you with force and desperation.

You tore your lips apart so you could look at him. His lips were swollen and red and his pupils were blown out wide. His messy hair fell onto his forehead and he smiled wildly as you pumped him harder.

“Fuck angel, you are too good at that.” He panted, his chest heaving up and down. “And you feel so good around my fingers.”

He dove deeper, causing you to jump a little and throw your head back in pleasure.

The windows were already steamed up from your heavy breathing, obscuring any previous vision of the dark street.

Precome leaked from Spencer’s head and you swiped your thumb over it and spread it down his shaft.

The sounds of your wet slicked cunt as Spencer plunged his fingers in and out of you filled the car.

His free hand started fumbling behind his chair, trying to locate his satchel.

He gripped the handle and tossed it to the front seat. Still keeping up your strokes on his cock, you leaned over slightly and rummaged inside for a condom.

The ripples of pleasure crashing through your body meant it took longer than you would have liked before your fingers brushed against what you were looking for.

You sat back with it and after a few more thrusts of his fingers Spencer cautiously withdrew them.

You watched in absolute awe as he drew those same fingers to his lips and sucked your arousal clean of them.

“Fuck you taste good.” He hummed around his own digits.

Your thighs clamped together at the sight.

“God-fucking-damn Doctor.” You whined, squeezing the base of his shaft a little.

He smirked before pulling you in for another kiss, the taste of yourself on his tongue was electric.

As he kissed you, you ripped open the condom and held his shaft as you rolled it down his length. You pulled back from his lips and knelt over his head.

You moved your panties aside again for him while his own hand went to the base of his cock as he lined himself up. Slowly you lowered yourself, keeping your eyes firmly on his.

Just moments ago he’d been driving and now here you were. It had all happened so fast it made him a little dizzy. But this was the first time he’d had you alone in what felt like forever. He didn’t want to waste a second.

There would be other times for you to go slow, maybe at Rossi’s cabin. But now the need for speed was prevalent.

His head pressed against your desperate hole briefly before you steadily sunk down onto him, feeling your walls stretch around his heavy length.

Spencer’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gripped hold of your hips, blunt nails digging into your flesh.

Your pussy fluttered around him, tightening as though you might come already. He bottomed out inside of you, taking a few moments just to revel in the way you felt sheathed around his cock.

“I could stay like this forever.” He moaned, head falling forward onto your shoulder. “I could just fucking live in this glorious pussy.”

He sucked on the flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave behind marks whilst the two of you sat perfectly still.

Your hands found their way to his hair and entwined in the unruly locks, burying deeply into them.

He stopped sucking your shoulder and rested his forehead against it instead.

A wave of emotions washed over him as if out of nowhere. He snaked his arms around your body and held you as he felt tears prick the corners of his eyes.

This was how it was supposed to feel. This was what was missing in his marriage.

He felt as though in you, he’d found the other half of himself. He’d found what he’d been searching for all these years, what he’d never found in Maeve.

You were hope. You were a freedom he’d never felt before. You were the air his lungs had been gasping for his entire life.

He was inconceivably and deliriously in love with you. And that both elated him and terrified him at the same time.

But he knew now, as he held you, whilst he was buried deep inside of you that you were the one his heart beat for.

He didn’t even know he was capable of this kind of feeling. But it smacked him in the face like a ton of bricks at that moment.

You pulled back a little and he blinked away the tears threatening to fall before you noticed them.

You kept your hands in his hair as you smiled at him and started grinding down on him.

“Need you.” You mumbled.

“Need you more.” He quickly grabbed your face and slammed your lips together as you started moving up and down on his length.

He held your face firmly, kissing you a little sloppily and moaning into your mouth.

He started rocking in his seat to meet your movements and his belt jingled slightly with the motion.

His hips bucked back and forth, thrusting deep inside of you and crashing against your g-spot again and again.

You released his hair and gripped his shoulder for leverage and your other hand slammed against the car window, leaving a near perfect handprint in the condensation you’d both created.

He pulled back from your lips and moved his hands back to your hips, using them to move you up and down around him.

Your mouth fell open as wanton moans left your lips and you let him guide your body how he wanted you. Your knees clamped around his thighs and your eyes fluttered closed.

“No,” he panted, manoeuvring you up and down. “Look at me while I fuck you.”

Slamming hard against your cervix your eyes darted back open, wide and practically black.

You could feel your arousal leaking down your legs and a combination of the wine and lust caused you to feel light headed.

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m close.” You whined, gripping the collars of his shirt.

“Fuck, so am I.” He looked conflicted by this.

He wanted to come while he was inside of you, more so than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He was wearing a condom but he was still scared by the thought.

Needing to get you to your peak before he reached his, he moved his hand under your dress and rubbed your clit with his thumb.

Your whole body jerked, clenching around him and it was almost enough to send Spencer spiralling.

“Come for me angel, please come for me.” He held his breath, hoping that might stave off his orgasm.

You hummed and moaned as he continued thrusting inside of you and the added pleasure of his thumb pressing against your clit caused your orgasm to bubble in your chest.

A moan wracked your whole body as you came, squeezing so tightly around Spencer’s cock that it was impossible for him to hold back.

With your orgasm still washing through you, Spencer’s hips jut up hard and his head fell to your shoulder again as he came inside the condom.

“Fuck,” he panted. “Fuck.”

His cock twitched inside of you as you rocked back and forth on him lazily while you both rode out your highs.

Spencer felt partially relieved yet suddenly flooded with remorse.

He helped you off of him and over to the passengers seat where your arousal leaked into the fabric of the chair.

He didn’t look at you, he stared down into his lap at his slowly softening dick as though it had betrayed him.

“Spence?” You whispered, squeezing your thighs together to try and stop the mess on Spencer’s chair.

He didn’t respond, he just kept staring at his crotch.

You sighed and reached over the console and removed the condom from his limp dick before tying a knot in the end.

“Condoms are really safe.” You whispered again.

“Are you on any kind of birth control?” He croaked, still not looking up at you.

“No.” You shook your head. “But condoms are really safe.”

“Ninety eight percent.” He mumbled.

“What?”

“They are ninety eight percent effective. But taking into account human error it brings that down to about eighty five in reality. Which means fifteen out of a hundred people who use condoms as their only form of birth control are likely to get pregnant.” His voice was so emotionless it scared you a little.

“Spence, it’ll be ok.” You gently placed your hand on his arm and he suddenly looked up at you.

Even in the dark you could see the tears behind his eyes.

“I can’t have another kid.”

“Of course. I’m not ready for kids either.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t mean I can’t have another kid right now. I mean I don’t ever want another child.”

His words hit you like a wave. That once sentence sobered you up like an IV filled with caffeine.

“Ever.” You croaked, slumping back into your chair. “As in…”

“Ever.” He sighed. “Daisy’s a teenager and Lily will be one too before I know it. And running around after toddlers in my thirties was one thing but it’s another entirely to be doing it in my forties. I don’t want any more kids.”

You cleared your throat and turned to stare out of the window so he wouldn’t see the tears in your eyes.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married again?” Your voice betrayed your sadness.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I've not thought about it. My divorce has only been finalised a few months. Until I met you I never thought I’d ever date again.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth.

This wasn’t a conversation that needed to happen now. You’d just started dating, it wasn’t important now, right?

You didn’t want to ruin what you and Spencer had right now for the sake of some phantom future.

“Ok.” You nodded, belting yourself in the car.

“Ok?” He frowned at you.

“Ok, let’s go.” You turned back to him and he suddenly became aware his dick was still hanging out of his pants.

He quickly tucked himself away and buckled his belt.

“Are we ok?” He asked softly before doing up his seat belt.

“Yeah.” You forced yourself to smile. “We don’t need to worry about stuff like that now.”

“Right. Sure.” He nodded with a slight frown as he started the engine.

The two of you were silent the whole drive back to your apartment and it was a stifled kind of silence. The tension was palpable, making the air around you thick and heavy, almost choking you on it.

You watched the passing cars outside the window. You stared intently until DC became nothing more than a blur behind your eyes.

Eventually after what felt like a lifetime trapped inside the car, he pulled up outside your building. You practically flung yourself from the vehicle, trying to ignore your sticky inner thighs.

Spencer quickly shut off the engine and joined you in the street outside your building. He was tentative as he moved closer to you, cupping your face tenderly in his large hands.

“We have an expiration date, don’t we?” You croaked, tears instantly pooling behind your eyes.

“I don’t know.” He confessed. “Maybe.”

“You really never want more kids?” A tear escaped your eye and you cursed yourself for it.

He sighed loudly, moving his hands down your face and onto the sides of your neck. His touch was featherlight, barely ghosting over your skin.

“I really don’t know Y/N.” His bottom lip quivered a little. “I never imagined having anymore, especially with my girls getting older now. I’m not going to stand here and lie to you and say I might change my mind one day because I don’t know if I will. Maybe I will, but I don’t know. And I don’t want to get your hopes up and say I will when I just don’t know.

But I don’t want to lose you, not like this. And I know it’s probably really selfish of me to ask but can we just like, put a pin in it for now? Deal with it another day? I’m not ready for whatever this is between us to be over. I’m already in over my head here, I can’t lose you.”

A few more tears escaped your eyes and you could tell Spencer was close to losing it himself.

He wished you were the mother of his children. He wished you were the one he married. His wished time and circumstance had been on his side but he couldn’t change any of that.

But he could potentially stop you from walking away.

“It’s a pretty big pin.” You replied with a sniff.

“I know.” He nodded sadly.

“But I’m not ready for whatever this is to be over either.” You confessed.

You might live to regret that decision. You might only end up prolonging the pain. But any minute spent with Spencer Reid was worth any hurt it might cause in the long run.

Spencer’s body seemed to relax at your words and he threaded his hands around the back of your neck, edging his face closer to yours.

“Y/N?” He whispered, leaning his forehead against yours and his breath fanned across your face.

“Yes, Spence?”

“You know I adore you right?” It was the closest he could bring himself to say what he really wanted to say.

Adore was the most he could allow himself to admit out loud although he was fairly certain you knew what he really meant.

Your lip tugged at the corner and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I know.” You murmured, lips almost ghosting over his. “I adore you too, Spencer.”

He closed the small gap between your lips and kissed you with everything he had.

He spoke silent love songs and sonnets that died in your mouth. But he told himself that you knew. He was sure that you knew.

When the kiss broke he stroked an errant hair back off your face and watched the way the moonlight danced in your eyes.

It should have been you, he thought regretfully. It should have been you I got to have a life with.

But he didn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t speak those words because they seemed far too cruel.

Instead he stepped back from you and stuffed his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

“I promise you I am going to get Daisy to her mom’s next weekend whatever it takes. And you and I are going to Rossi’s cabin.”

“I can’t wait.” Your smile was full of melancholy and he was sure his own reflected it back.

He took a step backwards, closer to his car.

“See you Monday.” He nodded, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“See you Monday.” You repeated, watching him retreat back to his car and slide in the driver’s seat with a heavy heart.

***

Spencer was exhausted by the time he arrived home, both physically and mentally.

He knew the right thing to do was to let you go. It wasn’t fair on either of you for him to string you along when chances were he couldn’t give you what you wanted.

He was being selfish, he knew that. He knew it was unfair for him to keep this up. But his heart wouldn’t allow him to let go.

You’d gotten in. You’d snuck past the defences he’d carefully crafted in the wake of Maeve’s affair. You’d bombarded his fortress, snuck in without him even realising his strongholds had been breached.

You’d taken up roots and they grew like vines around the shards of his thread bear heart. For now they were holding him together, but your clutches would only grow stronger, squeezing and squeezing until his heart all but turned to dust.

You were a part of him, embedded deep in his soul. So even if it was selfish, he couldn’t let you go.

He knew he should. But he couldn’t.

He sat in his car on the drive, silent tears streaming down his face unwilling to go inside just yet.

Time passed by slowly. He didn’t know how long he sat there in the dark before he wiped his eyes, put on a practiced fake smile and exited the car.

His footsteps trailed heavily up the porch steps and he nudged open the door as quietly as possible, hoping at this late hour his daughter’s would be asleep.

The light was on the living room and he didn’t have to go far to find his children or their sitters.

Luke was sprawled on the couch, feet resting over the arm. Lily was curled up on top of him, head resting on his chest and he had a lazy arm slung around her while they both snored peacefully.

Roxy and Taco were curled up together at the foot of the couch.

Garica was asleep in the armchair, head lolled back against the headrest and Daisy lay soundly sleeping in her lap, head buried into the crook of the bubbly blonde's neck.

His heart soared in his chest at the sight of them like this. His kids were masters of distraction and very rarely did anyone sitting them get them to bed.

He hadn’t expected Luke and Garcia to be any different.

The girls had tactics that stopped working on Spencer long ago. They knew how to wear adults down until they were too tired to convince his errant daughters to go to bed.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile in pride at how Lily and Daisy could outsmart two FBI agents.

He crept further into the room towards the couch and crouched down next to Luke and Lily. He reached out and stroked Lily’s curly hair off her face, her lips were drawn into a small smile that made Spencer feel warm inside.

Luke stirred a little, Spencer could see his eyes moving beneath his lids and then they slowly opened.

When they landed on Spencer he frowned a little, looking down at Lily before looking back at him.

“Don’t feel bad, they’re too smart for their own good.” Spencer whispered.

“Wonder where they get that from.” Luke croaked. “They wore us down.”

“It’s ok, really.” Spencer smiled.

Lily made a little humming sound before her eyes fluttered and opened. She looked at Spencer, blinking a few times before she lifted her head from Luke’s chest.

“Daddy!” She instantly beamed, shuffling to sit up on Luke’s stomach, no doubt winding him in the process.

She got to her feet and collapsed into Spencer’s open arms.

“Did you have a nice time with Uncle Luke and Aunty Penelope?” He kept his voice low to not disturb Garica and Daisy although he’d have to wake them up eventually.

“Yes! We had lots of fun and Taco and Roxy are the best of friends.” She giggled, pulling herself from his arms and pointing at the two dogs who were now awake but still stayed close to each other.

“I don’t know if he’s neutered and they would have some very strange babies so let’s keep an eye on them.” Spencer told Luke.

“It’s all good, Roxy’s been done.” Luke chuckled as he sat up on the couch.

“What’s neutered?” Lily frowned.

“Nothing, pumpkin.” Spencer ruffled her unruly hair before getting back up and moving over to the armchair.

Daisy was a much heavier sleeper than her sister so he was able to cradle her legs and head and scoop her up into his arms without waking her.

“I’m going to put them to bed.” Spencer whispered, motioning for Lily to follow him.

“I’ll wake Penelope.” Luke nodded.

Spencer headed for the stairs with Daisy in his arms and Lily gripping the back of his shirt. He was an expert at manoeuvring with two children attached to him and made quick work of the stairs.

“Go get into bed and I’ll be in in a second ok?” He instructed Lily.

“But I’m not tired!” She whined.

“Yes, pumpkin, you are.” He smirked. “Go get into bed.”

“Fine.” She huffed, turning on her heels and scampering to her room.

At least Luke and Garcia had managed to talk to the girls into their pajamas, it was more than most could do.

Nudging Daisy’s door open with his hip, he carried his daughter into her room, pulled back the sheets with one hand and laid her down on the mattress.

She stirred a little but didn’t wake.

He covered her up with the sheet and bowed his head to kiss her forehead.

“I love you baby girl.” He whispered as he slowly backed out of the room.

Lily was a little harder to get down, proclaiming she wasn’t tired when she could barely keep her eyes open.

It took twenty minutes and two stories before she finally gave over to sleep and Spencer was able to leave her.

He found Luke and Garcia slightly bleary eyed in the kitchen, three cups of coffee on the island.

He slid into one of the free chairs and took a grateful sip.

“How was your dinner at Rossi’s, boy wonder?” Garcia grinned suggestively at him, eyeing him up and down.

Spencer looked down at his attire and it was only then he noticed his tie was off to the side, his shirt was still untucked from his pants and his belt was twisted where he’d done it up in a hurry.

His cheeks burnt instantly as he looked back at Garcia sheepishly.

“Cut me some slack, I never have time for sex.” He grumbled, lifting the mug to his lips and letting the warmth comfort him.

“I mean we kind of figured what you were doing. You texted us almost two hours ago that you were leaving Rossi’s.” Luke snickered. “So you had a good night?”

“For the most part.” He couldn’t help the sigh that left his lips, causing his shoulders to slump. “It got a bit tense at the end.”

“Tense how?” Garcia raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

“We got onto the conversation of the future. I don’t know, I think we want different things.” He swallowed thickly.

“Because you’ve already done the marriage and kids thing.” Luke nodded.

“Yeah and it didn’t work out so well for me. So I’m not exactly in a hurry to repeat it.” He shook his head. “It’s fine, we’re fine…what?”

Luke and Garcia were exchanging slightly guilty looks that cut Spencer off his trail of thought.

They looked at him sheepishly, trying to decide who would be the one to speak.

“Uh…” Garcia toyed with her necklace. “Daisy knows about Y/N.”

Spencer almost dropped his mug from his hands but just managed to steady it and placed it loudly on the counter.

“Excuse me? You told my thirteen year old daughter I’m dating?”

“No, no, we didn’t.” Luke was quick to speak up. “She saw Y/N leaving the house. Said she saw you kiss her. She drew the conclusions.”

“And she talked to you about it and not me?” Spencer felt a little saddened by that.

“She’s happy for you.” Garica tried to cheer him up. “She was super grown-up about the whole thing. I sometimes forget she’s not an adult.”

“S-she is?” Spencer stuttered.

“She just wants you to be happy. And we told her you are.” Luke smiled softly at him.

“I was really not ready for my kids to know I’m dating.” He leant his elbows on the counter and put his head in his hands.

“If it helps, she did agree not to tell Lily.” Garcia shrugged.

“Until the next time Lily steals her favourite sweater or annoys her in any way and it will be the first thing she blurts out.” Spencer exhaled, lifting his head back out of his hands. “Thanks for handling it. There was a lot I didn’t think through before I dove head first into this dating thing.”

“Tell us about it. We did not think through how hard it would be hiding our relationship from the team.” Luke chuckled.

“Yeah about that,” Spencer offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’m pretty sure they all know. Rossi mentioned it.”

Luke and Garcia looked at each other wide eyed.

“We shouldn’t be so surprised. They are profilers.” Garcia shrugged in defeat, slipping out of the chair. “I’m going to use the ladies room and then I need to go home. It’s late and I’m exhausted.”

With Garcia gone, Luke helped Spencer clear up the coffee cups before they went through to the living room where Luke got his coat on.

“I don’t know how you do it, man.” Luke smiled wistfully at his friend as he fished his car keys out of his pocket. He grabbed Roxy’s leash from the coat rack and whistled to garner her attention.

“Do what?”

“Any of it.” Luke laughed as Roxy padded over and allowed Luke to clip her leash to her collar. “Dating’s hard enough without corralling those two girls. You’re doing great, you know that right?”

Spencer smiled but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. Sometimes it felt like he was being torn in two directions, between his family and his personal life and he was sure at some point he would rip down the middle.

“Thanks,” he said rather than launch into a self-pity rant.

Garcia rejoined them and Luke helped her into her pink denim jacket before she hugged Spencer tightly. He waved at Luke as he opened the door and they stepped out on the porch with Roxy in tow.

“Thanks again guys, I really appreciate you sitting the girls.” he leant on the door.

“Any time! I just adore those little angels!” Garcia beamed as brightly as she could considering how tired she was.

“See ya soon, super dad.” Luke winked at him as they turned and headed down the front steps.

Spencer shut the door, chuckling to himself.

He had no idea what would happen between the two of you, if there were even still a two of you. But as long as he had his daughters, he knew everything would be ok.

Spencer could conquer anything life had to throw at him as long as his two girls were happy and healthy.

But why did the thought of losing you make him feel like he could crumble into a million pieces and never be able to put himself back together?

@andiebeaword @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @its-yagirl-raelynn @loonalockley

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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cryptocism · 1 month

Note

I love the comic book writing sensibility that Frequency has, like how Three and Five's ending is great for the story being told but if it were a published comic it would still leave them on the table for if a future writer wanted to use them.

whats funny is that despite doing my best to keep in line with dc comics/comic writing sensibilities throughout the fic (staying as comics-accurate as possible in terms of continuity/tone/characterization/story elements etc) that particular comic writing reality was one that was like. kind of a genuine anxiety that i didn't know i had until i started writing this thing.

ive said before that in the original concept for Frequency all of the clones (besides Thad) were going to end up dead. whether it was via killing each other or unintentionally being the instrument of their own demise (disney villain style). obviously it changed because creating an entire narrative about this one character's redemption arc and then not allowing any of the other villains to have a shot at redemption felt hypocritical and like. mean. not to mention antithetical to the whole ethos of the story.

but the reason why killing off all the other clones was my first instinct is partially because i had this kinda subconscious recoil to the idea that any of them would actually continue on after the story was over.

like, because i was trying to stick to canon so much, while figuring out the story a thought came up a couple times that basically went like, "okay, well, if this was a real comic, then...". and inevitably i had a realization that if this WAS a real comic, my original clone characters would be canonized, and therefore available to any future writer who wanted to yank them out of their respective endgames and inject them into other stories. which i Did Not Like the Idea Of.

classic "making up a guy to get mad at" except it was more "making up a reality to get anxious about". because obviously no matter how much it sticks to canon, Frequency still exists in a fan-created space.

but! i'd never made up original characters to put in my own fanmade stuff before and was definitely feeling protective. because all those original clones i made had yknow: a story purpose and narrative function to facilitate the actual key characters, Thad and Bart. the idea of them being removed from that context in any capacity, even if it was in the hands of a good writer, made me have this gut "no STOP you're ruining it!!!!" reaction.

they were all made for Frequency, and to foil Thad as a character, i didnt like the idea of Three being brought back as a one-note villain or Jude and Nathaniel getting folded into the wider Flash cast of allies. and none of them were made to be main character material. plus the character roster at DC is already uhh Extremely Stacked i genuinely did not want the takeaway to be "and here's the nEW ADDITIONS TO THE FLASH FAMILY!" because that wasnt the intention

anyway i got over it lol. i still did my best not to leave any loose ends, and have each ending be wholly satisfying on its own, and ideally the oc clones basically continue on offscreen while the true adventures are based around Thad and Bart. but yeah it felt right to leave off on that note (and served the story much better than killing everybody off)

#duke-nitro #asks #realizing that i felt kinda defensive about Literally The Hypothetical Nonexistent Possibility of other ppl writing my characters... wild #like genuinely very surprising i did not think i was that precious about original characters #especially OCs created for an existing universe that i did not also make up #what probably helped was all the cool fanart i kept seeing of frequency #and seeing other people make their own AUs either based directly off of Frequency “lore” or based on the Multiple Clone AU #u gotta realize when you're taking your fun machine too seriously #like chill its fun dude we're just playing in the space #otherwise u end up committing to stuff that would ruin the story ie killing all your original characters #to safeguard against the hypothetical nonexistent possibility of other people writing those characters #''oh you'd rather smother your baby than see it raised by someone else?#well my name is solomon and i have a sword with an innovative solution to your paternity problem''#anyway thank you yeah i think it worked out

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suzukiblu · 2 months

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Hi hello! Do u have any songs that reminds you of the core four (individually)? U don’t have to answer if you don’t want to ofc have a nice day

Hello, friend! ❤️ And hmmm, okay, mostly I have pairing songs in my head (or Match songs, don't ask me why), so lemme just hit "shuffle" on my likes and pick one for each of them as they come up. Except for Bart's; Bart's I knew instantly, lol.

Tim is "Ghost", yes I do mean the Justin Beiber song. LOOK THIS MAN HAS ISSUES WITH GRIEF AND LETTING GO OF IT AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL. And also, like, an immature approach to it, for sure. Sure, shutting the fuck down and making a fake Kon and kissing his dead bestie's girlfriend will make him feel better. Why wouldn't it?!??

Cassie is "Burning", by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Just the viiiibes, and also like, the harder-edged and more mature version of her that I prefer, while still maintaining a sense of that underlying anxiety and urgency that took up so much of her YJ-era character development. Why isn't she running their entire generation of heroes again, please and thank you, DC?

Kon is "I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE", by Maneskin. Just the back-and-forth nature of the song and its bravado vs self-consciousness as a thing, basically, and DEFINITELY the certainty of being something fucked-up and bad at your core, whether you actually are or not.

And I realize Jim's Big Ego's "The Ballad of Barry Allen" is specifically about BARRY and I did not actually wait for shuffle to give me this one, but it sure does give me Bart feels anyway, okay?? It is just slathered in speedster feels in general. SPEEDSTER ANTHEM, FULL STOP.

#anonymous #rintalk

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ghosts-and-entropy · 10 months

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Things Don't Stay Forever

DC x DP prompt. Or story? Story, I think, cause I plan to add more chapters. Idk, I'm building this world as we go along. It's my side project to keep writing. But you can take it and roll with it too :D.

But for a prompt: Lex Luthor created a virus to "combat and destroy other viruses and diseases in the human body." This is in quotes because he placed it under this description himself. In truth, the virus is supposed to destroy metahuman abilities. (This actually happened in the comics) But the virus didn't work as he wanted it. Something happens, still working on this part, where the virus is leaked into the air and causes a global pandemic.

That's right people, this is an Apocalypse AU!

It is eventually going to be Dead on Main or JasonxDanny cause I love that ship. But it's going to be very slow going.

Anyway, enjoy the first chapter!

Chapter 1: And that’s when I realize that, in the end, we’d all wish for the same thing. Just a little more time.

Danny remembered when it started.

The minuscule, barely noticeable at the time, change in the world that jumpstarted the end.

A news report on the WGN9 station at ten at night.

He remembers it was January. He had been out hours before, keeping an eye on Amity and her dead, and her living. It had been snowing that night. Cold and windy, the cool air had felt good on his skin and in his core. He had flown for two long hours around Amity relishing in the dark and quiet before making his way home.

He remembers sitting on the living room couch, dozing and alone after a long day of schoolwork, ghostly activities, and dealing with the imminent problem of his future.

He remembers closing his eyes, his arms resting against his stomach, rising with his breaths. He hardly listened to the words of the newscaster talking. Her words had been so distant and muted, his thoughts the complete opposite, almost blaring and intrusive.

He remembers wondering, through the anxiety-ridden whispers in his head, where his mom and dad were. If they were in the house or if they were out again, hunting. It was late. It was snowing. But they always stood up late through any type of weather. Catching ghosts at night was easier than during the day. He made sure before heading home the ghosts kept their heads down for the night in case his parents were out.

He hadn’t seen them when he was flying though. They had probably been in the basement then.

He remembers the throw blanket under his head, resting on the back of the couch. How it still smelled like Jazz’s perfume even when she hadn’t been home for months, away at college. His eyes had stung and watered under his eyelids and he fought to keep the tears where they were.

He remembers it was cold in the house. It was always hard to tell if it was because his dad ran hot so the temperature had been lowered, the ghost portal opened in the basement, all the ambient ectoplasm in the house, or if it was him, or maybe all four options.

But what he remembers the most about that night was the moon. Bright and full, shining in through the living room window, helping to illuminate the space and him alongside the TV screen. Offering a kind of silent comfort he never took for granted.

He remembers that the most because it was the first thing he saw after snapping open his bleary eyes when he heard it. The thing that set off a warning in his head. The name of the man who would later help realize the end. His gaze quickly shifted to the screen to see the newscaster, Tiffany Snow, begin her news report.

“Billionaire and CEO of LexCorp, Lex Luthor, has recently announced a scientific breakthrough his company has been working on for years. Sources say Luthor has hired some of the greatest scientific minds in the 21st century onto this project that will, quote, “change the world.”

A project that would change the world. One they have spent years working on.

And suddenly, everything went silent.

A recorded scene of Lex Luthor shaking hands with delegates from multiple countries played out on screen. Luthor looked pleased. Behind him, a line of scientists in lab coats stood, looking blank or grim. The delegates standing next to Luthor grinned and clasped hands with one another, and flashes of camera light flooded the conference room they stood in.

Danny remembers slowly sitting up, his eyes, red-rimmed and tired, staring at Lex Luthor, right into his eyes. His face was instantly frozen on the screen staring right back with dark eyes. His hands still clasped in another’s, a small smirk rested on his face but he didn’t move. Time had simply stopped.

Still. So very still. Danny hardly moved or breathed. Just stared into the billionaire’s eyes like he could foresee the future and all its mistakes. Silence had reigned around him. Only the frantic whispers of a warning rushed into his head like static. He couldn’t understand them, there was too much, too many voices talking at once. Building and building louder and louder until—

And then it was over.

Tiffany Snow was gone. Lex Luthor and all his scientists behind him were gone too. A commercial for life insurance played on, the narrator’s voice booming after long seconds of utter silence and static. Danny remembered flinching and rubbing his eyes, taking deep breaths because what the hell had that been?

What was that?

He’d never felt anything like that before. It felt like…an omen. A premonition? He’s never had premonitions before. So what…?

He remembers thinking maybe he had been tired. Danny had been running himself ragged for days, for months. Maybe it was time for him to go to bed. Finally, rest after a long couple of months.

It had to just be sleep deprivation, that was all. It didn’t feel that way.

He remembers turning off the TV. He stood up, draping the blanket that had been resting on the couch over his head and shoulders, wrapped and held in one hand like a childish comfort in front of his nose. Remembers walking up the stairs to his bedroom in the dark, the only light in the whole house coming from the moon.

He remembers lying down and staring at his glow-in-the-dark star-covered ceiling. Small and colorful blob ghosts darted up and down through them. They were quiet and playful with one another. He counted them like sheep, over and over.

He fell asleep later that night, hours later because he couldn’t get what had happened out of his head. Remembers the sinking feeling following him the next day and the next. Watching out for the news every night after for more reports on Lex Luthor or LexCorp or this thing that was going to change the world. He had asked Tucker to put an alert on his Blackberry for those two keywords for any articles that popped up online.

Because something was wrong or was going to be wrong. That eerie feeling on the back of his neck down to his queasy stomach had left him sick and paranoid for months after. It was the reason he had been so overprotective of his family, his friends, and his hometown both as Fenton and Phantom for months.

That deep knowledge of Death being near. The End of all things. Not the afterlife. Not all the ghosts, spirits, shades, and other indefinite things that walked the Earth but actual Death. As if the shadow of it eclipsed the planet and the sun couldn’t shine through.

He remembers being seventeen and not worried, not concerned, but absolutely terrified and sure that something was coming.

And then it was July. A day after his eighteenth birthday. One month after his high school graduation. One month before college, although, that was never in the plan to begin with if he was being honest.

But it was July. One day in and the world was dying. Just like he felt it would.

Because Danny remembered when it started.

But long before the outbreak ever occurred. When there were just small hints of something to come—nothing damning, nothing for sure—Lex Luthor was working on something groundbreaking. But no news of it ever hit the media after that first initial report. The one that made him anxious.

Although, now that he has some time to reflect on it, he realizes maybe he hadn’t been the only one either. There may have been others who caught those signs too.

He ponders this as he watches clips of Wonder Woman, usually tall and confident, grim face and small, as she helped care for the dying in India. The Flash sped toward hospitals all across Europe carrying supplies of medicine and food.

Superman, powerful and usually bigger than life, hovering over a burning village in Vietnam, his face dazed and shocked at the destruction below him. Like it was his first time seeing such a thing.

And then there was Batman’s Knights. Small snippets of gloved and cape-covered Bats ran and jumped through Lady Gotham’s large skyscrapers and high-rises, carrying items that shaky cameras couldn’t capture.

Gotham had been in quarantine days before the outbreak. Metropolis too. Countries were warned three days in advance. Every country around the world began to plan and lock down before the first wave could hit. They weren’t given enough time.

Israel built fences and walls around itself. So did China and Egypt. Canada had cut off their roads and airspace, as did many countries after them, including the U.S. Europe closed down its borders. Mexico refused to let anyone into the country. Africa’s CDC convened to plan their next steps for lockdown amongst all African nations.

Chicago shut down both their airports. Jazz hadn’t been able to get a flight back to Illinois. Then all the airports started shutting down, quicker and quicker, one by one, before she could even look for a ticket out of California.

And the other cities, the other countries—not all of them closed down in time. Not all of them had superheroes living in their cities to help them. The superheroes that were on Earth were stretched thin around the globe helping out.

Not all of them had the means to control the masses through a global pandemic.

Amity Park, on the other hand, was quick to close down their roads weeks before Gotham and Metropolis did. Phantom made sure of that.

And the fact Vlad didn’t argue with him spoke volumes about the information he was hoarding too.

Yeah, there had been others who knew.

Did they even try to stop it?

Was there anything he could have done?

Clockwork comes to mind and Danny has to suddenly stop himself from running down the basement stairs toward the portal below just to ask him if he knew. He hasn’t spoken to him in weeks. Not since their last conversation when he confided in Clockwork about his fears.

His hands clench and Danny lets out a soft growl. Of course, he knows. He always knows.

Ancients, he’s always known.

But he hadn’t said anything. Not when Danny asked. Not when Danny told him something was wrong. He hadn’t uttered a word. And he had looked fine. His usual self, nothing seemed out of place. So why hadn’t he said anything to Danny?

Well, he couldn’t, could he? The future has to continue, no matter what happens. That’s what Clockwork once told him.

But it can be changed. It’s been changed before. Danny’s seen it. Danny’s done it. So why—

—And if Clockwork sees this, has seen it—how could he not—then it means this is something that was always meant to be. Always growing in the back of this planet’s history.

Impending and dooming. But things can change. He knows that. He does because he’s helped change things in the past before and maybe he shouldn’t have. He’s privileged to have done that but Clockwork must know something else. He just needs to ask. He needs to—

The landline phone rings suddenly and Danny rushes quickly to pick it up before the first ring even finishes. He knows who it is.

“Jazz? Jazz, hello? You there?”

Static fills his ears for a second before he hears her ask, “Danny?”

Relief floods his system. He sighs gratefully. “Jazz. Hey, I can hear you. Can you hear me?”

“You’re kind of breaking up but I can hear you.” Static fills the line again before she says, “Are you okay? Is everyone okay?”

She sounds worried and tired. He rushes to reassure her.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine here. We’re all okay. Are you okay? Where are you now?”

A rustle of paper. “Nebraska, near the border of Colorado, I think. I’m in Big Springs. I just got out of Wyoming.”

Nebraska. She’s in Nebraska. It’s been two days. She’s just reached Nebraska and it’s been two days. It shouldn’t be taking this long. She’s still too—. Danny rubs the side of his face with his hand and holds back the panic.

“Okay. That’s good.” He lies, “You’re good, you’re okay. You just got to get through Nebraska and you’ll be golden.”

She lets out a small humorless chuckle. “Not just Nebraska, Danny. Iowa and a quarter of Illinois too.”

“Hey, that’s gonna be so easy! Okay, you’re back in the Midwest. You’re already halfway there, you know?”

“Yeah.”

He turns around to face the living room from the kitchen. The TV behind him, muted, shows more scenes of destruction and human desperation he doesn’t want to look at right now while talking to his sister.

“How are you? Really?”

Static for another moment, mere seconds before he hears her again. “I’m…scared and—and worried. This car trip home was not how I expected it to go.” She chuckles.

“No, yeah I know.” He turns to take a brief glimpse back at the TV before looking down again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! Really, I’m fine. I should have—I should have planned this better.”

Danny shakes his head. “You didn’t know this was going to happen. You had plans in motion. You—you have goals. How were you supposed to-to—”

“No, yeah, I know. I—” Jazz sighs, exhausted. “I know.” She’s silent and Danny’s heart drops. A rustling sound fills the phone and she says optimistically, “I made it through the worst of it and I’m almost home.”

“How—” Danny clears his throat. “How has the trip been so far?”

Trip. Can he even call it that? It’s more like an escape. She’s running away. She’s trying to get home before—before—

He can hear a puff of air hit the receiver. “It’s been…eventful. There’s a lot happening around the States. I’ve done my best to avoid it all but...”

“Like what?” he asks, curious, worried, panicked.

“I…there’s something I have to tell you. But I don’t want you to worry.”

Too late. Because that statement was ominous. “Tell me. Please. I want to know. I need to make sure you’re okay. Jazz—”

“I’m okay! I think, yeah, it’s, there’s been—”

“Jazz.”

She’s quiet again. Ancients, he hates when she’s quiet.

“Jazz, what’s going on?”

“It’s-it’s bad, Danny. It’s really bad. Everywhere. I’ve had to—” She sniffles. God, is she—? “I’ve had to do a lot to get out and I’m almost home, okay? I’m almost home and then it’s all going to be okay. But you gotta trust me that I’m going to be home soon, okay? Just know that.”

She’s frantic and panicked. He knows she pulled her phone away from her face because her sniffling is distant but he can still hear her. He needs to keep hearing her.

“Jazz? Jazz, hey, talk to me. Don’t stop talking.”

“Okay, no, it’s okay. I’m fine. I’m sorry.” She sobs.

She’s been through a lot. She’s stressed as hell. Who wouldn’t be in her situation? She’s had to do things to get out.

What did she do? What’s happening in the other states?

Without thinking, Danny grabs the remote and flips quickly through the channels but all everyone is showing are either clips of the Justice League or damn commercial ads for fucking prescription drugs and why the hell is that important right now? Right now when his sister is afraid and alone during a fucking pandemic?

He throws the remote down on the table and makes a decision.

“Jazz? Jazz, it’s okay. Listen. I’m gonna come and get you.” Danny rushes through the kitchen, rips open cabinet doors and drawers, and rustles through them searching. He knows it’s around here somewhere.

“What? What, no! Danny—”

“I’ve been so fucking stupid! Why didn’t I think about this before? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you like this. But I can get to you. I can. I know how.” He holds the phone between his shoulder and ear. The coil phone cord wraps around his torso as he rips open a junk drawer and immediately locates the map he was looking for.

“Here it is! Okay, you said you were where? Big Springs?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I can meet you there. It usually takes, what? Eleven hours to get to Nebraska from here? Twelve? I can fly. I can be there in sev—no! Three. I can be there in three hours. Just hold on for me, okay?”

“Danny, no, stop. This is absurd.”

Danny freezes and thinks for a moment. She’s right. This whole thing is stupid. He can get to her much quicker.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m so dumb!” He smacks his forehead. “I can take the Infi-Map.”

“Wh…what?”

“The Infi-Map. I can borrow it from Frostbite and use it to find a portal closer to you. How much ambient ectoplasm is in that area? You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll just ask the map to bring me to you.”

“Danny—”

“I can take the Speeder. We’re gonna have to leave your car but at this point, what does it matter?”

“Danny. Wait, stop for a second!”

Danny stops and waits for her to speak again.

“What?”

“Danny…that can be extremely dangerous. I’m not risking your life to come and get me.”

Danny holds down his scoff and rubs his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She lets out a large sigh, her breath creating a distorted noise on his end. “I’ve been around people. A lot of people. Not on purpose and not because I wanted to be. I just—it’s been a long trip so far. I’ve had to get out of the car. I’ve… had to help some people.”

Danny slumps down in the kitchen chair closes to him and stares at the TV screen. Dragonson is in North Korea. He’s in talks with the leader to help protect his people. Apparently, it’s not going well.

“Of course you did.”

“Well, I do learn from the best.”

“That’s not even remotely funny.”

She laughs anyway. It’s not funny, it’s—this whole situation is awful and it’s not funny but she’s laughing on the other line anyway.

“I’m coming to get you. I don’t care what y—”

“I may be infected.”

His breathing stops. He blinks at the TV and watches Cyborg pull up multiple maps of different countries. Areas of Europe and Asia are pulsing red and growing bigger.

“Are you—” he chokes, “Are you showing symptoms?”

“No. Nothing. But I was around people who may have been sick. I—” She takes a breath in. “I wasn’t sure if coming home was safe. I may infect other people. I may bring this to Amity.” Her voice wobbles on the last word. “And you worked so hard to keep our town safe. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

“I don’t care about—”

“But I’m still coming home. I have a plan. I can wear a suit, one of mom’s old jumpsuits with the-the helmet. She has a hazmat suit still, right? I don’t have to enter Amity. I can stay outside the border. Wait it out to see if I’m inf-”

“No. You’re coming home. End of discussion.” Danny stands up and tosses the map, useless, onto the table and walks towards the wall cradle, ready to hang up.

“Danny, no. I’m not risking anyone’s health because I was being stupid.”

“You had a mask on right? You said you were able to get a hold of one before you left.”

“Yes, of course, I had one on.”

“And how many hours has it been?”

“It’s been five since exposure.” She’s been counting down. She’s been preparing herself.

“CDC says it takes less than twenty minutes for symptoms to show.”

“I could be asymptomatic. There have been reports of people suddenly dying without any symp—”

“YOU’RE NOT DYING!” Danny shouts. His grip on the phone is tight, almost crushing. He can see his eyes glowing in the metal reflection of the fridge.

She doesn’t say anything. She stays silent and listens to him taking deep breaths to calm himself. She isn’t dying. She isn’t going anywhere. This isn’t her time. He knows that. He knows it isn’t her time. He would feel it, right? He would feel her fading.

Would she stay here, on this plain? Would she accept her afterlife in The Zone? Would she leave him?

He’s not ready to face that yet.

“You’re not dying. Okay? I would know. I know I would know.”

“I…” she hesitates.

“You wore your mask. It’s been more than twenty minutes. You’re sure?”

“Yes, yes I’m sure.” She replies calmly.

“Then you’re fine. I’m coming soon. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Danny! Listen to me! I could infect you! I could be dangerous to everyone back home. Just because I wore a mask doesn’t mean I didn’t inhale it somehow.”

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Wh—yes! Right after and I used hand sanitizer.” Of course, she would. She was always prepared for anything. Why would she falter now?

“Great!” Danny shrugs. “Be there in twenty.”

“Danny—!”

“I love you, Jazz. I’ll see you soon.”

“DANNY!”

Danny hangs up the phone and rushes down to the basement of his house. He ignores the insistent ringing coming from the kitchen phone and races to pack supplies in a backpack he stored away in an unused locker his parents never checked.

They’re out in town, helping Vlad set up tents and other necessities for the denizens during the lockdown. They won’t miss him, not for twenty minutes. Maybe less if he speeds quickly to Frostbite.

He’s going to get Jazz. He’s going to bring her home.

#dc x dp #dc x dp fanfiction #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp #fanfic #fanfiction #Things Don't Stay Forever #dcxdp

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