#“actually in canon it states that-” canon is mine now. i do what i want. woof bark. say another word and youre gonna get bited

[watatsumiis]

i think if I have enough confidence to outright lie or have an incorrect detail in a longform fic with enough conviction and/or explanation to go with it. you guys should just not say anything and give me that ok? ok

#glad we got this out of the way /silly #general barks #listen i dont feel like looking up mondstadt history or tiny character lore details for this fic. i just dont care that much #“these characters didnt have their visions/werent friends/didnt live here/whatever at this time” #“actually the lore/history states that xyz is like this because blah blah blah” #“umm did you know that-” #hush. no. shh. #im literally just a dog at a computer its a miracle im getting pieces out with paws like this #what do you expect me to do. #like yeah ill research tiny details for things that interest me sure but i just. #sometimes i take things in canon and i squash them into an empty juice box so theyre not my problem anymore #“actually in canon it states that-” canon is mine now. i do what i want. woof bark. say another word and youre gonna get bited #youre going to take this fic and youre going to ENJOY IT

[sundrop-writes]

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven’t watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there’s no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it’s not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to ‘appeal’ to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife’ to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name’); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader’s true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader’s body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer’s fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don’t really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it’s good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn’t 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day. 

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 

“Rings?” She questioned. 

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 

You nodded at this. 

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 

… 

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 

You were just playing the part. 

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 

“Has it been a godly union?” 

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 

… 

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 

Which ‘one’? 

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 

Spencer didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 

He would protect you because you belonged to him. 

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 

… 

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 

“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 

Of course. 

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 

… 

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 

“Come on.” Christopher grunted. 

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 

… 

Your plan worked flawlessly. 

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 

It was the church. 

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 

“L/N!” 

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that I have written, rather than asking me to write 'more'. If you want to see more things that I have written about Spencer, feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist.

#sundrop writes #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

[winterarmyy]

Must Be Fate

Prequel to And You're Mine. This is the story of how Y/N first met her cute, chubby alpha!bucky.

Summary: Y/N has been crossing paths with this particularly sweet alpha all day long; this must be fate right?

Note: There was a mention of this event in 《 And You're Mine 》 so, it's only canon for me to write it.

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Words: 4.2k++

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. fluffy stuff. sort of fated mate themed because... love at first scent(?). instant love. the reader was just smitten without even knowing bucky's name, alpine making her appearance, 99.9% reader's pov because she's the one who fell in love and remembers him. Dialogue? almost little to none (I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT). And I little shout out to one of my favourite book.

P/S: Been busy these few days, i just graduated my bachelor's degree, then went through the whole job hunting process and somehow managed to land an offer (in another state btw), then went on a stressful house hunting journey and managed to get decent place. Yknow, all those "adulting" stuff (that i am not ready to face). But yeah, here's a little something from my wip that I managed to finish. Happy reading! 🤍

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N herself might not notice it, but she had been stealing glances through the pretense of the book she was supposed to be reading for quite some time now. Not that she wanted to be distracted anyway; she was rather enjoying her current read, especially the banter between main characters, Liesel and Rudy.

Yet for some reason, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the particular alpha sitting on the park bench, right across from her.

It seemed that the man was also distracted with his own personal dilemma as his thoughts were lost within the arrangement of peonies in his hand. There was this deep frown decorating his features yet his eyes translates a different type of emotion. More gloomy, more somber. And Y/N knew exactly why.

She never meant to follow Bucky around, in fact, she didn’t. It just happened that his paths were fated to intertwined with hers; and it all started that afternoon.

The bus was packed full, albeit it was Saturday, but thankfully she managed to find herself a seat.

Since Y/N was getting closer to her heat, in about a week or so, and her scent blockers were nearly out. She just got back from a nearby clinic to restock and now she had a full day for herself.

The thing about her pre-heat condition is that she was fortunate to not experience the normally unpleasant symptoms like any omega would; she doesn't get irritated easily and she didn't have to go through those random aches and fever.

However, she had a particular symptom that differs from the other omega; which involve the irregular increase of her scent.

During pre-heat and all throughout the actual heat, Y/N’s scent tripled the amount of a normal omega in heat. And since, she refused to take suppressants, the doctor prescribed her with a high dosage of scent blockers instead; to mask her scent completely during pre-heat.

Besides her own scent thickens and heighten, her sense of smell was also affected. It will become so senstive that she can smell everything and everyone, all at the same time.

Unfortunately for her, there weren’t any medication to combat that issue and the only solution she could do was wearing a mask to lessen affect of other people’s scents. But of course, the mask can only do so much especially when she was in a tight confinement of a bus with – what feels like – 2000 people crammed into it.

Too many potent scents coming from every direction, that her head spun into nausea.

Sure, she might be a little bit exaggerating about the amount of people in the bus, but it felt awfully like it when the bus stopped in every bus stop in its route; she can physically feel the inertia of the force pushing her to lean forward.

Thank god, she was sitting down; she managed to hold on the seat in front of her for support. Often times she would whisper her apologies to the man sitting in front for the sudden push of her hand, And most times he only nodded without looking back.

But at one of those stops, unfortunately, the teenager standing next to her bumped his head right onto the metal pole. Poor thing quickly scurried out of the bus in pain and embarrassment.

The density of people became lesser at that stop, but not enough to empty any seat in the bus. Though it worked well for her that most of the strong scents were fading into a much more bearable capacity for her to endure.

While streams of people exited the bus, only one came aboard; a sweet old lady. The moment Y/N saw her, she was already thinking of giving up her seat, but the man sitting in front of her beat her to it as he swiftly stood on his feet and help the old lady to his seat.

The old lady gushed and thanked the man, dearly patted his cheeks like any grandmother would do to their grandchildren.

And in that brief moment of time, when he moved, Y/N picked up a particularly sweet scent trailing behind him and when he came back, it hits her like a train. At first, she can sense some sort of floral; roses and jasmine but with time the smoky sandalwood and spicy cinnamon seeped through. The combination of sweet and woody notes made such a warm and captivating scent.

She never knew an alpha can smell this good.

Her eyes fluttered close as the alluring scent flooded her brain, letting his scent creates the dreamy images of his fingers lacing between hers as they walk in the rain, or him cuddling her in the heat of the fireplace during the winter, or his body trapping her by the back as she takes his huge delicious kno—whoa.

That was way too vivid and a tad too far.

She was so enthralled by his scent that she forgot to even look at the man’s face. And a mistake it was for her to take a peek because he is absolutely gorgeous. The brown locks on his head was neat and clean that she just wanted to make a mess out of it. His eyes were pretty in steel-blue and his plush lips was simply a sin to look at.

Though some would argue about the lack of shape in his jawline, the same one that was hidden between his chin; she didn’t care at all, rather she was particularly fond of the softness on his chubby cheeks. Shaved so clean and smooth that she couldn't find a single razor cut on his skin.

They look so cute and kissable. She want to kiss his cheeks, his lips, and every part of his ridiculously handsome face. She wanted kiss him so badly.

And those intrusive thoughts made her almost missed her stop.

Y/N panicked when she scurried out of the bus that she didn't even thought to ask him for his name or number; anything.

But then again, she wasn't the type to be so bold in the first place; she knew wouldn't have the courage to even speak a word to him. His scent alone almost pushed her into a frenzy, so imagine if he would look at her with those beautiful eyes of his, smile at her, talk to her?

She'd simply die. She was sure of it.

So, with regrets Y/N walked towards the familiar road right into the local bookstore that she often visits. Thinking that this encounter would probably be forgotten by the end of the day.

Then she spent hours in that shop trying to find the perfect book to put her out of the miserable reading slump she was currently in. While her eyes skim over the covers of the book in display, in the back of her head, Y/N was almost certain of how unlikely it was for her to see the alpha ever again.

Couple of turns later, her footsteps trailed back to the space in between the bookshelves next to the huge glass window of the store. Still glancing absentmindedly at the book covers particular on the historical fiction isle. She halted when she saw it, the book that people had been recommending to her, 'The Book Thief'.

After reading the summary behind the book, she felt drawn to it almost instantly. Thinking that maybe this would be the book that will replenish her interest of reading back to its utmost glory.

But when she lifted her head up, she froze yet again. This time, not because the sight of a book. But it was the silhouette of the alpha she saw in the bus. Instinctively, her feet step closer to the glass window, to have a better look at the man across the road.

The alpha had just exited the flower shop opposite from where she was standing, with a gorgeous bouquet of peonies in his hands. Now that she looked closely, his hands were covered with black leather gloves; it intrigued her and she wondered about the story behind it.

Y/N wasn't that dense; she could see it right away from the way he dressed, to the choice of gift he went for. She knew instantly that the alpha was probably going out on a date.

And that stung her a little bit. How nice it must be to be his date, his girl, his omega.

Funny of her to think so when she never really talked to the guy. Let alone know him well enough to decided whether he's a good alpha or not. But something about him felt right to her.

But, sometimes it'll be like that. Falling in love so strongly, so instantly. And there's nothing wrong with it, as long as you know how to protect yourself; your body, your heart.

When her gaze moved upwards to his face; and her heart almost escaped her body. It was so quick, so faint. But, she saw his smile. It wasn't for her but it was so pretty. Y/N felt like a bow just struck her chest and the cupid was trying to pull it back out.

She knew full well how she probably need to move on from this delusional crush of hers yet her eyes still longingly lingered at his moving figure, walking farther away from her sight.

When she thought that would be the last time she saw him, she was utterly wrong. Now, it felt like devilish cupid was toying with her heart as their path crossed yet again, this time at a nearby cafe.

She didn't notice him at first, at least until she placed her orders and saw him sitting alone at the far corner of the cafe. He seemed to be waiting for his date; the flowers laid perfectly on the seat next to him.

In contrast of the few looks of his that she had witness before, the alpha's demeanour indicates anxiousness.

His heel keeps tapping the floor, causing his knees to jump up and down, as he fiddled with his phone. Occasionally, he would look at the time and put it down. Just to do the same thing over again only seconds later.

And that made her wondered if this was his first date with whomever the person he was supposed to be seeing. She knew those feelings all too well. It was only canon that he felt the jitters on his first date, she'd been there too.

When her drink was served, Y/N decided to stay awhile longer. She didn't know what she was expecting from this but she wanted to make sure he was okay. Or maybe she just wanted to see who was the lucky girl. So she found herself a seat, a little bit discrete yet enough to see him from where she sat.

Pulling out her new purchase, she decided to pass the time with some light reading, maybe getting herself comfortable with the world building in the book and get to know the main characters in the process. In between those moments, Y/N would peek above the book, particularly at the sight of that beautiful stranger from across the room.

Pages upon pages she drowned herself to the words of the author that she didn't notice how time flies passing the half an hour mark; and the cafe started to get more crowded and rowdier. Certainly, the amount of potent scents had were floating around her were slowly getting to her.

Y/N knew if she stayed a longer, she'd surely throw up whatever drink she just had. So, she decided to leave. But not before glancing at the alpha – who was still waiting for his date – for one last time, then she pulled the door open and walked away.

Certainly, that was supposed to be the last time she see him right? Nope. The universe proved her wrong when the man found a seat on the bench opposite her. With the same bouquet of flowers in his hands.

And at this point, she thought that this must be fate. There's no other explanation than this.

When she lowered her book again, she saw a white feline rubbing its head on Bucky's legs. It was too far to hear its voice but considering the amount of time its mouth open, Y/N figured it was meowing at him.

Probably to get his attention, or just wanted to comfort the alpha because just from the look of it, she knew he was stood up by his date. And Y/N was unexpectedly mad about it; maybe it was from personal experience or maybe it was just because she couldn't accept the fact that this fine, gorgeous, sweet alpha was being stood up.

Y/N watched how Bucky put away the flowers and scooped the cat onto his lap. He squinted his eyes at the ball of fur and spoke something. She hadn't had a clue what he said but it was probably along the lines, "Are you lost, little one?" He scratched its chin and neck while trying to see if it has a collar.

After so long of seeing that deep grumpy-looking frown on his face, Bucky finally graced her with another smile when the cat tried to rub its nose on his cheeks. Its whiskers tickled his nose and had trigger a laugh out of him.

God, Y/N had never been so desperate to be a cat in her life. She wanted to be that cat; sitting on his lap like she owns that place, making him smile and laugh like that. She wanted nothing more that to do so; to please him in a way that would make her own heart full.

Her daydream was cut short though, when a heavy scent of cigarettes and rum invaded her space. In fact it was so thick and potent, but considering the lanky alpha was sitting right next to her it was inevitable.

Y/N didn't want to be rude; because if she just walk away to find a different spot to sit at, then it would seem rude to the man. Her heighten sense of smell was to be blamed, not the man who was simply sitting next to her, enjoying the park as much as everybody else does.

So, she stayed.

But in those few minutes that she stayed, she might have re-adjust her mask a few times, as if it would help to lessen the scent. But, she did it anyway. And that was all she did. Yet somehow, it managed to rub the alpha in a wrong way.

"Ya got a problem with my scent, beta?" He snarled, clearly he was drunk. And a drunk alpha in the middle of the day was never a good sign.

Though she was relieved to know that the scent blockers worked just fine. Otherwise, she might push the alpha into a rut if he got even a single whiff of her scent.

The alpha growled as she put some space between them instead of answering his question. "Are you even listening to me?! Answer me, you dumb bitch!" His aggressiveness went from zero to hundred real quick when he yanked her by the hand, pulling her closer towards him.

Y/N's book fell from the force of his strength and she yelped in pain and fear. Though she usually know how to put up a brave face and fight back, but the sudden change of his action and emotion didn't gave her time to prepare her; mentally, physically.

With her omega tendencies on default, her body coward to his force and her voice tremble, "L-let me go!" She tried to twist her hand to escape but his grasp only grew stronger.

He pulled her to stand up, "You think a beta like you can look down on me? You and that omega are the same! Bunch of good for thing bitches. Gonna teach you a good lesson for disrespecting an alpha like me!" He roared with words of his drunken concerns, truth of his wounded ego.

Her blood pumped faster through her veins and her breaths increases behind her mask. When she saw his hand rose, Y/N shut her eyes, whimpering in fear as she turned her head away, waiting for the pain strike her but it never happened.

It between those short heavy breaths, she caught a whiff of Bucky's scent. And surely, it gave her the comfort she needed to calm down, guiding her to open her eyes and witness her saviour stopping the unhinged alpha's strike.

Then what happend next was so fast; the way Bucky forced him to release her, and the way the left of his gloved hand wrapped around the alpha's neck, choking the air out of his wind pipe.

Bucky growled something in the alpha's ear, but Y/N couldn't hear it over her own beating heart. She didn't need to, not when the pale look of the man's face says it all. As soon as Bucky loosen his grip, the other alpha stumbled backwards and made a run for his life.

That does tend to happened when Bucky was literally threatened to tear his limbs apart if he touch the woman ever again.

When the panic didn't die like Y/N hoped for, Bucky quickly came to her side; respectfully close while avoiding any sort of skinship. He whispered words of comfort and sweet nothings, "It's okay, you're okay. You're safe now."

His voice was like magic, especially when it managed to calm her so easily. Y/N can feel herself melting, like a marshmallow hovering over the flames; like an ice cream under the summer sun. She took a deep breath of his sweet scent and exhaled a long sigh, "Thank you. Thank you for that." she said.

Bucky bent down to pick up her book and patted the dust off, "It's no big deal, here." He handed the book. She gladly took it from his hand, gripping it tight to her chest.

Her head was still fuzzy from the rush of adrenaline, she couldn't think of a single coherent thought other than gratitude towards her saviour, "Yeah, thank you." She probably didn't even notice that she was talking to the alpha she was crushing on the whole day.

Looking at her shaken state, Bucky was worried of her, "Are you going to be okay?" He asked.

Y/N's mind didn't process his question fast enough to for a confident reply to form, "Huh? Yeah, of course. I'll be fine. Couple of deep breaths should do the trick."

"Are you sure?" Bucky was sceptical but she quickly assured him, "Absolutely!"

He nodded slowly as if she failed to convince him, yet he didn't want to push her too much, "If you say so..."

She let out a another long sigh and said, "Thank you again, really. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bucky simply chuckled at her words, "You know, you've said 'thank you' way too many times now, doll. Plus, it is an utmost honor of an alpha to save a damsel in distress." He jest.

Which was quickly agreed by a mewl coming from his chest, "Meow!" Y/N didn't even notice the white cat nestling comfortably in his leather jacket, albeit it was zipped up until only its' head peeking out of the dark fabric.

"See? She agrees." Bucky shrugged as if the cat's opinion was the only valid opinion in this situation.

"I did say it a lot, did I?" Y/N cooed as she pet the cat on its' head, smiling at the softness of its' fur against her skin before looking back at the blue eyes of his, "Sorry." She instinctively apologized. 

Bucky shook his head and reminded her, "Don't be."

That was when Bucky's phone rang, a call from Steve, "Hey, you're here? Where are you? Oh there. Yeah, I can see you, punk. You don't need wave at me like that. Yeah, I'll be right there. Please don't let Sam join you. God stop that is fucking embarrassing." He muttered as he looked over how his friends were literally halfway out of the car window, waving at him like a bunch of kids.

Bucky snuck his phone back into his pocket and said, "I'd offer you a ride but the car's full with dumbasses and I wouldn't recommend a sweet thing like you to associate with them in any way."

He managed to pull a short laugh out of her, "Oh, no need to do so. I live close by. Don't need to worry about me just..." her trails stopped mid way.

Only for Bucky to continue with a question, "...Just??"

"Do you mind giving those to me?" Y/N pointed at the flowers in his hand. She knew he was contemplating to throw it away because he had been glancing at the trash way too many times at the first couple of minutes when he sat on that bench across from her.

Y/N noticed how his expression changed, he looked confused but didn't frown upon the idea. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she waited patiently for his respond. But he just continued to stare at her, almost blankly but not quite lost. It was as if he was mesmerized by something.

The silence was getting louder than the crowds surrounding them so she decided to explain, "You see, I've never received flowers from anybody before. So, I'm curious how it feels like to receive one." She tried to come up with excuses, though she was still telling the truth. No one she dated had ever gave her flower before, probably deeming it as old-fashioned.

But, she loves those old fashioned gesture the most.

Y/N saw how he hesitated when he stared at the bouquet, his face getting tense by the seconds. She recognize that expression, she knew right away he was holding back his feelings.

But it quickly shifted into a gentle smile, "Pretty flowers for the pretty lady." He whispered under his breath. Bucky didn't waste his time hesitating this time and handed the bouquet to her.

Though she was asking for it but she didn't expect him to really give it to her. This was the first time she ever got flowers from a man. An alpha that she was pretty much head over heels for nonetheless.

Letting her emotions unfiltered, "Thank you!" she squealed as she reach out her hand. As she brought the bouquet closer to her face, she pulled down her mask, inhaling the sweet fragrant of the soft pastel peonies.

Even if her lower face hidden behind the flowers, Bucky swore he saw a burst of sparkles beamed from her upon receiving those flowers. It fascinated him because he never knew that someone could be this happy just from getting such small gift, from a complete stranger he might add.

For a second there, he thought that he would've give her a whole garden of flowers just to see her shine like that again. It felt so good and somehow fulfilling to see her happy like this.

Y/N unknowingly smiled as she let herself lost in the intoxicating scent. And when her eyes fluttered open, a deep chuckle distracted her from the trance. Looking up, as he eyes peeking through the blooming flowers, she finally saw that endearing smile that she wanted to see.

But that wonderful fleeting moment didn't last long as she was hoping for when she heard a group of man shouting for the alpha, "Hey, loverboy! We have a birthday party to get to. Natasha would be pissed if we're late. Again!"

As Bucky shouted back his own sassy counter, Y/N's head was filled with thoughts of kissing him. She didn't particularly know why but she had the need to do it.

Why would she ever do this to a man – who probably currently thinking that she was a creep – that she barely knew?

Even with those unconscious questions, she found her body moved on its own.

When he turned around, Y/N was already on her tip toe, her face was so close to his, while her hand softly cupped his chubby cheeks. She pressed a tender kiss on one of the side soft sides and prayed to God that he couldn't hear how her heart was desprete to escape the confinement of her ribcage.

Y/N placed her mask back before pulling away, only to preen at how she managed to stun him into a red mess of shock, "Thank you for saving me, alpha." Her eyes curved as a sign of a smile before she turn around, almost running away.

She certainly didn't give him a chance to at least know her name, let alone get to know her.

Midway through her path, Y/N abruptly stopped and turned around, her eyes met his curious ones and her heart fluttered, "Thank you for the flowers! I love them!" she shouted with a wide smile on her lips and brightest expression of her face, even if it was blocked by the mask.

Though Bucky could probably translate her eagerness and sincerity from how animatedly joyful she was waving at him. He smiled as he watched the girl ran away with her small steps, almost resembling a hopping bunny.

As Y/N skipped her way home, her lips aches for more of the alpha's softness, her heart yearned for his comforting presense and her glands certainly burned for his mark. And even though she went home not knowing his name, or his contact number. She believed that if he was truly her fated mate, then they will surely meet again someday.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for loving this couple as much as I do, guys. I noticed a lot of you have been requesting chubby alpha!bucky ever since I first published the first one. So I hope you enjoyed this one. More to come from them. But meanwhile, drop your thoughts?

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #alpha!bucky #chubby!bucky

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not changing my OCs backstory?

Saw some recent posts about people fighting over RP characters so I thought I'd throw mine in.

I (F25) am in a RP server for peoples OCs. It's a small server for friends or friends-of-friends so everyone is either a friend or an aquaintence.

There's a channel specifically for people to post their OCs to see if anyone wants to RP with them. The posts are basically references with the characters name, appearance, backstory, etc. and a list of things the person wants to RP with them (smut, angst, medieval, coffee shop, roomates, etc.)

Anyways, I started RPing with two other people, Amy (F23) and Jenny (F25) recently and things were going good. We were doing a modern with magic type RP and all of our OCs met each other at a bar.

Eventually as the RP progressed my OC revealed that she thought she was a lesbian and then realized she was bi (they were all sitting at a table together commenting on other people in the bar and who they thought was cute).

Amy suddenly stopped responding to the RP so it was just me and Jenny, and I just figured that Amy was busy with college stuff so I didn't want to bug her about responding.

A few days later I get a DM from Jenny saying that Amy is REALLY uncomfortable with my OCs backstory. I'm of course confused and ask her why Amy didn't just message me. She told me Amy was really upset and didn't want to talk about it. I say "If she doesn't want to talk about it why is she telling you to tell me? If she has a problem she needs to tell me so I can fix it."

About 20 minutes later I get a message from Amy with a list of problems she has with my OC. The list said:

My OC is lesbophobic.

Your OC is saying that being lesbian is a phase (not at all what my OC's dialogue said during the scene, the word "phase" was never once used).

There's not enough lesbian rep in things and you're taking away even more.

You're replacing actual lesbian rep with an inferior straight character (yes, she used the word inferior).

She basically demanded that I change her backstory and make her a lesbian again, or AT LEAST make sure she ends up in a relationship with another woman.

I was pissed.

I replied back and said:

"Please go back and highlight the dialogue line where my OC stated that being a lesbian was a phase, because I searched the word "phase" in our channel and I couldn't find it. That word wasn't even used once during our RP, by any of us.

Also, there's nothing wrong with something being a "phase". People don't get one chance to pick a sexuality or gender and then get stuck with it for the rest of their life. Sometimes it takes people a while to figure themselves out. Sometimes things change.

My OCs sexuality is literally based on my own personal experiences. I thought I was straight, and then I thought I was a lesbian, and now I realize that I'm actually bi. I'm not lesbophobic for changing my mind, that's not what that word means.

If you want more lesbien rep then go make more lesbian characters. I'm not "taking away rep" because it was never there in the first place, and again, my OC is based on my OWN EXPERIENCES, and I as a person do not exist to provide representation. Why is lesbian rep more important than bi rep? I can name multiple, canon lesbian characters but I can only think of one character that canonically likes men and women.

I'm not replacing lesbian relationships with a straight relationship because even if she dated a man she would still be bi, not straight. It's fucking disgusting that you think a relationship or person is "inferior" because they're not the sexuality you want them to be. She's based on me, do you think I'm inferior for something completely out of my control?

I'm not changing shit about her backstory, especially not to coddle the feelings of biphobes."

She responded with a huge rant that I'm not going to post here but the TLDR is "You're lesbophobic and you hate lesbians and you're awful and dangerous and you don't care about good rep fuck you." and then blocked me.

I told Jenny what Amy had said and she said "Idk, it's not really a big deal to change it? It was a small part of her story and it made Amy uncomfortable :/"

So AITA for not changing it?

It IS a small, insignificant part of her story that wouldn't change anything if I removed it but for me it's the principle: I'm tired of bisexual characters (and people!) being treated as lesser or not as good as "real" LGBT+ people/relationships.

Also I'm planning on making comics with my OCs and I make sure that there's at least a few lesbian, gay, trans, etc. characters in each story so that EVERYONE gets rep. Which matters way more to me than "rep" that only like 15 people in a discord server will see.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[kagooleo]

so with confidence I present my rarepair...fluffyriceshipping!

they were originally a joke ship (which was my last chance to get out) but they grew on me more and more throughout last year, and months later they've become my favorite pair to draw! their name was the funniest thing to make of them because i got to joke around with their jpn names

the tl:dr of them is that there's a lot of good drama to make of thirty-somethings with the weight of responsibility of their respective cultures on their shoulders, as well as their personal thoughts of the trainers of their respective regions, all this culminating together to be really compelling for me to develop, so I'll ramble a Whole lot more under the cut about them :D!!

~

ok now that the people that wanted to see more about what i'm crazy about when i'm not online are here you guys better prepare for the worddump lmao

before they meet its postgame and they’re both in their thirties (early to mid), lance post gsc/hgss still upholds his champion position and managing the dragon's den alongside any g-man/undercover rocket work on the side (in workaholic mode), riley post dppt is occasionally battling at the battleground but also holing himself up with patrols on iron island and doing egg research and training his aura (Also in workaholic mode)

i'd say all the work makes byron and roark try to get him a break from all that, convincing him at some point to take a vacation! see the sights my guy you've been workin yourself to the bone

it's canonically shown in hgss that riley does appear as a partner for the battle tower, so at some point he is in johto! the region resonates with his cultural sensibilities so maybe he revisits it again to instead actually relax there.

lance would probably catch his hat flying away when he's visiting elm's lab (a fellow egg researcher) in new bark and riley would have absolutely fell first for him (and i'm a sucker for meet-cutes,,,)

and from there they hit it off! being both skilled trainers in their own right they battle and go out to eat after and talk about their family (clair and the elders, for riley's case his family friends byron and roark), their culture (dragon clans and aura guardians), and then when they talk about their respective trainer kiddos (silver and dawn) something clicks between them (it’s a Really rough snippet but hopefully it’s decent)-

"Do you have any kids? I know the news loves to make up some kind of story about secret love affairs with a random person." the guardian says, awkwardly.

Lance smiles, "Oh, yeah! I have one but he's technically not mine." Riley chokes on his iced tea.

"I'm sorry?" A million thoughts roll through his mind as he processes his words said so matter-of-factly.

"Haha, sorry, sorry, I'm only partly joking."

"E-Elaborate..."

The champion explains the general gist of things as he's met him, Silver, his kid-by-odd-circumstance, was homeless for a while, but was training alongside some other up and coming trainers. Uncovering some Rocket related files, he learns he's the son of the boss of the entire organization, and after some on and off meetings he eventually got him a place to stay at the Dragon's Den, and soon after began living with him at his place when he warmed up to the idea of adoption.

There are times he gets overwhelmed with all that he's been through, and some nights its all too much. But Lance was there with him, stayed with him every step of the way, unlike the one who gave him that abandonment anxiety in the first place.

"He's my kid, not by blood, and maybe not by his family, either. But instead, by his own decision he chose to stay with me. I'd want him to keep the freedom he has now." Lance states, firmly. "And now he's grown up as strong as I believed he could. I'm proud of him, as much as he tends to deny that." Riley senses his draconic aura swell with pride, mixed with a humbling sincerity in his words.

"What about you? Any kids of your own?" the sudden flip of the question surprises the guardian briefly.

"N-Nothing adoptive but…I suppose it's similar, in a way to meeting them as you have."

The guardian's turn, now. Dawn was someone he met when he was training on Iron Island, and also served as a guide to get her through the caverns. When he felt something off in the aura surrounding the area, he eventually learned of Galactic causing the pokemon on the island to feel restless and agitated. With her, they were able to clear the island of their antics and even gifted her a Riolu egg on her journey. From there, he was impressed with how strong she was, and did hear from Cynthia that she raised his present up to evolving her into a Lucario. He couldn't have been happier.

That was the case, until he caught the aftermath of the events of Mt. Coronet.

What Cyrus did, the lengths he'd go to, and dragging the both of them into a mess that could have torn the world apart.

After that, Dawn stayed home for a while. Cynthia put him as a contact for her mom, who was really worried for her. With his aura and her friends, Lucas and Barry, they were a big help for her recovery. And eventually, after a lot of time and work, she became the region's champion. She messages every now and then to him, as processing any trauma is never an easy road, but he realized how lucky she was to have the people she'd met to keep her steady, and knew she'll be alright.

"I...still wish I could've done more for her," Riley says, quieter. "Cynthia told me about what happened in that other world, and it...it was a lot for Dawn, a lot of emotions to help her figure out." he finishes, sheepish.

"…I don't blame you for feeling that way, I wouldn't know what to do in a scenario like that, either." the champion says, unsure too.

"It's amazing, in a way. All these kids going through so much on their own. I'd be proud were it not so scary, realizing how young they are to go through what they have been through."

"There's only so much you really can do, as an adult. I've realized that fact a long time ago." Lance's aura felt oddly melancholic, as bright and pretty as it may appear. "It's either immediate or slow when things change for them, and sometimes you'll have to make a choice on the spot when the time comes for them to decide what they want to do." It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, but the melancholy makes it appear that he's had some regrets.

“I trust in them to find their own path, eventually. When they’re together, those kids are gonna be alright on their own.”

His reassurance helped, even if only by a small amount.

-

I should make some kind of master post about them at some point but WAH god I’m so happy I can actually put them together in pokemon masters, they’ve really grown on me and I’ve developed a lot for the both of them in my free time, but yeah this is the rarepair that’s been on my brain for ages now, a gaze into my goo brain 🤪

#kagarts #pokemon gsc #pokemon hgss #pokemon dppt #trainer riley #stat trainer riley #champion lance #lance pokemon #fluffyriceshipping #🌊🍚🐉 #yeah I’m establishing the tag for em in emojis. free reign bitches!!!!! #long post #writing a fic is hard but i could write millions of words about these two. the character analysis is compelling #catch me being annoying about them in the coming months #being able to talk about them is so nice bc I was pretty scared before because of some people I used to know #but now I get to be free and awesome without worry and it’s been great! I’ve got a friend who’s encouraged me to talk about them here #and so I shall! to my friend I want to kiss you on your forehead for hearing me out about these two #new year new yaoi new me >:]

[yuzuna123]

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEORY TIME!!!

Reina/Nina/Miguel/ and perhaps Eddy but i am not so sure about him - Mishima Zaibatsu after Reina takes control of it, possibly in the story DLC's that are coming.

And of course when i mention Miguel this is only a theory and speculation of mine if he is DLC, if he is, i see him joining Reina's Mishima Zaibatsu after Reina gives him a good offer to get revenge on Jin for killing his sister.

Now why i said Eddy? it was because when he was announced, he has a special intro with Nina, and according to a non canon book @acequeenking gave to me, there's ship tease between them ( they pretended to be a couple to Heihachi for awhile ) so my guess is Eddy would join the Zaibatsu for Nina, and also because he would never join a company Kazuya's in charge of.

Kazuya/Anna/Jun/Bruce - G Corp. in Jun's ending, there's a G Corp blanket, that Kazuya gave to Jun according to wiki. Well, one of the theories and interpetations i have is that after Nina deserted Kazuya, and although she was retired, Anna took over a branch of G-corp and went to find Kaz and help her friend in Yakushima. Where she found Jun and a knocked out Kaz. She then and the soldiers she had helped them set up a camp.

Seeing that some of his soldiers and friends were still loyal to him and thanks to Jun, Kazuya found the solution and power to stand up to himself after Reina took over the Mishima Zaibatsu.

Bruce is also there as he is one of Kazuya's best friend along with Anna.

Again, Bruce and Anna are only speculations IF they are DLC!

Perhaps Kazuya will live in the Mishima Estate in Nara ( as Harada stated that their clan originally resided there ) and open a Dojo too to train his second son and his students Jinpachi's style of Mishima Ryu, and how the Mishima clan was always meant to be.

Lars/Alisa/Lee - Violet Systems, this one is actually more obvious to me because we see Lars here with Alisa and Lee in the end credits.

I see them..well, becoming more accepting of G-corp after Reina takes control of the Mishima Zaibatsu and Kazuya's redeemption/recovery thanks to Jun.

Now for Jin?, I believe the poor boy would just want to live in peace lol. I see him living in Yakushima, or perhaps, if something happens to somone he deeply cares about thanks to Miguel or Reina, he goes on a Journey and becomes a shadow hero like Luke or Sasuke became in their respective franchises. Or still being that even nothing bad happens to the people he loves. To be honest, although his arc is done, I don't think Bandai will give this boy a break lol and they will continue to give him more trauma. Jin would just want peace to be honest, and nothing to do with any huge companies, considering what happened to him over the years.

#tekken #kazuya mishima #jun kazama #jin kazama #nina williams #anna williams #bruce irwin #miguel rojo #reina mishima #eddy gordo #lars alexandersson #alisa bosconovich #lee chaolan #tekken theories #headcanons #tekken headcanons

[darlingseraa]

GUYS I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE TO HAVE NOTICED, RIGHT ???

Ok so, I had this epiphany the other day and wanted to share it, but like, I forgor because if I don't do something I think of immediately in the moment, then I forget to do it. BUT, here we are.

I'm just gonna mark this down as a huge spoiler for The Legend of Zelda : Tears of the Kingdom, so if y'all don't want to be spoiled on some (albeit small) details from the game's canon, please do move on lol.

Okay so, as I was rewatching the cutscenes in Tears of the Kingdom the other day, I noticed that both Rauru and Mineru have this tear-shaped white mark on the bridge of their nose. Quite innocent, right? Maybe just a Zonai trait?

But then– then I realized they also have a third eye. On their foreheads.

Now, what really baffles me is, if you look closely at these screenshots (I believe Rauru's is taken from the official Collector's Edition Artbook, and Mineru's is straight from the game itself), then you'll also realize that both Rauru and Mineru's third eye have exactly three lashes.

Okay, now that that's out of the way, hear me out.

You know what other "race" in Hyrule displays these traits or make use of that sort of symbolism?

Yeah.

The Sheikah.

They're also the only "race" in Hyrule that doesn't appear in the flashbacks where we see all the Sages.

Now, it can and will certainly be argued that the Sheikah are not a seperate race from the Hylians and yeah, I completely agree with that (it's even stated in game in the profiles of the Sheikah characters, like Paya or Impa, that they are "Hylian (Sheikah)"). In a sense, even if they are the same race, they still belong to a different people or culture than the rest of the Hylian characters, and can therefore be considered "seperate". It was the case in Ocarina of Time where the Six Sages included both a Hylian (Zelda herself) and a Sheikah (Impa, as the Sage of Shadows, I believe).

So why not include a Sage who was part of the Sheikah tribe, like Nintendo did in Ocarina of Time?

Sure, I'm going off a super subtle detail here, but I have a theory and I will die on this hill if I must : I think the Zonai were actually the ancestors of the Sheikah tribe (and of the Royal Family of Hyrule, as Sonia mentions a "blood connection" between her and Zelda, as well as the fact that she sensed both her power over Time and Rauru's power over Light within Zelda).

Now, as I said, this theory of mine is based off a few small details, as well as off of the absence of the Sheikah in the distant past of Tears of the Kingdom. However, even if Nintendo haven't done this on purpose and the marks on Rauru and Mineru's noses are only meant to be decorative, I still think there's something there that we're just not seeing.

Either the Zonai are meant to be part of the Sheikah tribe's ancestry (which would, in turn, explain why the tribe has always been close to the Royal Family as they share common ancestors in both Hylians and Zonai), or the Sheikah were just like "Oh hey, that's a really cool idea for a logo. Wanna make that our tribe's symbol??" and their leader at the time was like "Yeah, let's go boooiiiiis" and that's that.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Sorry for the long post! I just absolutely had to share. I can't be the only one to have seen this detail, right???

#zonai #tloz totk #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #theory #tloz theory #rauru #rauru totk #tears of the kingdom rauru #tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom spoilers #tears of the kingdom theory #sheikah #sheikah tribe #mineru #mineru totk #mineru tears of the kingdom

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I hope I'm not being rude, this ask also isn't intended as a call out for anyone. As much as I'll be happy if you'd willing to answer, if my ask somehow make you uncomfortable, please feel free to ignore it.

Here's my question :

I've been seeing many post saying that Adrien end up being Marinette' trophy boyfriend instead of proper boyfriend and at the end of the final, Marinette's fight against Gabriel isn't just simply good vs evil rather it's a fight of Adrien's "ownership" so to speak.

I want to ask your opinion about it, especially about the former. I'm personally conflicted about the trophy boyfriend thing because the urban dictionary define it as "A boyfriend that a girl is proud of being with." Which more like what Chloe did at s1, but at the same time it does feel fitting in a way since Marinette do get Adrrien as a trophy for "winning" against Gabriel. Either way it just feels like an objectification and it doesn't seems like something good to show in a show with kids as the target audience, yet I do feels like Marinette's love for Adrien is so shallow that her objectified him like that just make senses for her character.

So, what do you think?

You're not being rude at all! As long as an ask doesn't use names or otherwise make it easy to find the source of the question, I'm cool with it. I don't even mind if it's something uncomfortable, though I will do my best to state my expertise (or lack there of) on those. I think it's really important to be willing to acknowledge your ignorance. No one can know or even be informed on everything.

On to the question.

To start, let's actually define "trophy boyfriend" because the definition you gave - a boyfriend that a girl is proud of being with - is not the one that I would use. It's way too kind!

"Trophy boyfriend" is just a male variant of the term "trophy wife" or "trophy girlfriend." I'm gonna be a little lazy here and just have wikipedia define that one for me as their definition accurately reflects the way this terms is generally used:

A trophy wife is a wife who is regarded as a status symbol for the husband. The term is often used in a derogatory or disparaging way, implying that the wife in question has little personal merit besides her physical attractiveness, requires substantial expense for maintaining her appearance, is often unintelligent or unsophisticated, does very little of substance beyond remaining attractive, and is in some ways synonymous with the term gold digger.

When someone calls Adrien a "trophy boyfriend," they're saying that he's just there to be Marinette's pretty arm candy who supports her unconditionally while requiring nothing from her. A fully one way relationship that's all take and no give.

Unfortunately, canon does seem to be going this way.

Season five was the season which saw Gabriel's slow, agonizing death and final... defeat is too strong a word, so let's just go with reveal. It also saw the end of any hope for Emilie to be revived, assuming that wasn't her at the end, which does seem to be the case. We also saw Nathalie slowly wasting away, triggering all of Adrien's trauma from losing his mother. In other words, this season was all about Adrien losing or fearing the loss of every adult that he has ever loved, none of whom he even got to say "goodbye" to even though they all knew that they were dying.

So it makes perfect sense that Adrienette's big couple conflict was Marinette getting over her trauma and being able to tell Adrien that she loved him! She was absolutely the one who needed unconditional love and support this season and it was so nice to see Adrien giving that to her by laying his own needs to the side since he knew that she needed more support right now.

To be clear, that was sarcasm.

Marinette was an awful, selfish girlfriend this season. Yes, she doesn't know the full extent of what's going on until we get to the final, but in Passion (S5E6) we get this:

Adrien: Marinette? Marinette: Adri-mine! I mean, Adri-fine! No! I mean, you're not mine and you're not fine, I mean, you are fine. (gasps) Adrien, is something wrong? Adrien: No, no, everything's fine... no, everything's not fine. Not fine at all. Somebody I care about is sick and... there's nothing I can do. I feel completely hopeless.

Gabriel then akumatizes Nathalie, leading to a fight that ends with Marinette seeing just how sick Nathalie is. All this means that, by the end of Passion, Marinette is fully aware that Adrien is really struggling with Nathalie's condition and just how bad Nathalie's condition, so it makes perfect sense that the episode ends with Marinette and Alya talking about... how thirsty Marinette is for Chat Noir.

Marinette: You should've seen him! He was so... (growls like a cat) in his cute red suit with black spots. Can you believe it? I asked him out to the movies and I didn't even stammer! True, the timing was bad, but still, everything is so easy with Cat Noir, I can tell him everything I never had the courage to tell Adrien.

Marinette, sweetie, I know that you're going through some stuff, but you're better than this! You've always been shown to care about others! I just don't believe that you wouldn't at least comment on how sick Nathalie is, which really is all that this scene needs because I don't expect Marinette to have no wants or needs outside of supporting Adrien anymore than I expect the opposite.

Marinette can thirst all she wants, especially since she's not dating Adrien yet. Just let her acknowledge that this is who Adrien must have been talking about earlier! Instead, she says nothing, forgetting about Adrien's struggles and not informing his other friends of what's going on, leaving Adrien to basically suffer alone as the Nathalie issue will continue to come up on his end, but he never again reaches out for support from others.

Remember how the NYC special saw Marinette and co protesting Adrien not being allowed to go on a school field trip? And how The Bubbler saw Nino trying to organize a birthday party for his best bro? And how Reverser saw Marinette pairing up Marc and Nathaniel into the dream comic book team? You ever look back on all that and wonder what happened to these characters wanting to love and support each other, even if their attempts where sometimes a little misguided?

Ever since the start of season four, loving and supporting each other has gone out the window. If it's not about shipping Adrienette, then no one cares even though Adrienette was totally one sided for most of the show. First it was only on Marinette, then it was only on Adrien, and it only became mutual in the episode where they... got together? Kind of? Seriously, when did they actually start dating? The second half of Kwami's choice sees Marinette say this:

Alya: Then, how did we go from “I’m pathetic and I’ll never love again” to “Yay! I’m going out with Adrien”? Marinette: I’m not going out with Adrien…

But then the very next episode starts with Chat Noir talking about his girlfriend! When did that transition occur? For a season that's all about Adrienette getting together, it's kinda funny that we never technically see them get together. It's also kinda sad that them getting together was the result of Adrien once again not taking Marinette's "no" at face value... I know it's a romcom trope, but writers, please, can we not use it in stuff aimed at little kids? Plus haven't we mostly agreed that it's a bad, lazy, overused trope? Does anyone actually like it?

This is getting long, so I'll just give some final thoughts and call it a day.

A relationship starting off of shallow feelings is totally fine and normal. Outside of your family, that's how most relationships start. You meet someone with similar interest or whose vibes you like or who is taking the same class as you. You start talking and get to know each other, which can lead to a deeper relationship in the form of a friendship or a romance, which is basically a friendship with bonus features.

The issue with the love square is that the writers are absolutely botching the "deepening relationship" part of the equation. They're not letting Marinette support Adrien or learn about his struggles or even acknowledge the struggles that she does know about, which makes her come across as ridiculously selfish, a terrible lead in to a final where she now has knowledge that could destroy him. Most of the audience doesn't trust her to tell him about this knowledge because of course they don't!

As always, I lay the blame for this at the feet of the writers because so much of Marinette's bad behavior and issues make no sense when we look at her previous writing. She's never been the best at emotional intelligence, but she has always tried to help others, a thing that the show somehow acknowledges during her fight with Gabriel, leading to his win, but doesn't in acknowledge in Marinette's own romantic relationship. Of course, that would require the writers to see Marinette's season five behavior as a flaw and I don't think that they do, which is why I blame them and not her. I have no issue writing her - or reading things that write her - as better than this.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better

[nikki-kitty]

I want to say this and get this off my chest. Sakura fans, Hinata fans, Sasusaku fans, and Naruhina fans, this post is not for you so if you’re going to say anything rude don’t read this post.

I wanted to pointed out some things about Sakura and Hinata especially their fandom

Here we got this(not mine btw) What? Did this person ever watched the anime or read the manga at all? I don’t think we never had a canon reason why Sakura became a kunoichi/Ninja nor it was stated why she became one. Hinata had a canon reason I believe, She was a force to become a ninja or something like that but I guess some Sakura fans think Hinata became a ninja to get Naruto to notice her.

Apparently Hinata can’t cry because her husband is never home? Kushina and Minato died for their child and I don’t know how Mito died because I haven’t watched Naruto in a long time but I do have the manga but not the whole collection yet. I mean wouldn’t you be sad and crying that your husband is never home with you and your kids.

Sarada was being rude because she asked a question about her mom marriage?.. Never knew it was rude to ask your mom or dad about their marriage/relationship. Sarada does have a right to ask Sakura about her marriage with Sasuke, Sarada hasn’t seen her dad for years.

Now we’re fighting who’s the best mother now? My personal opinion who are the best mothers are kushina and Mikoto. They actually care for their kids and died for them.

The parents in boruto:

I might get hate for this but Hinata, Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke are all terrible parents. Sasuke and Naruto are both absent for their kids and Sakura and Hinata are literally ok with them being absent for their kids. Whenever their kids say about how they feel and wish their dads were their for them, Hinata and Sakura are like “He has a lot of work or “He has been oh his mission”. It’s also fucking funny how people call naruto a terrible dad for missing out boruto birthday and tried to attend his himawari birthday but failed but Sasuke has missed tons of sarada birthdays and people are like he’s hot or a better dad then naruto? I guess a dad who misses tons of his daughter birthdays is better than a dad who misses one his kids birthday and tried to attend his other one.

Naruto the last: I fucking hate this movie and wish to burn it. SP turned Naruto into a complete dumbass, sure naruto was dumb but not completely actually dumb like goku who doesn’t know what a kiss is. It’s funny how SP took naruto and sasuke bonds and give it ti naruto and hinata. Also why is hinata Charka Is purple in the movie? Oh yeah SP took it from sasuke and gave it hinata. It’s funny how they made this movie just for naruto to fall in love with hinata because they were no evidence of him falling in love with hinata. “But Naruto saved her” yes he did but does that mean he loves her, just because a male character saves a female character doesn’t mean he’s in love with her. Sorry to say this but if you get jealous of your crush wearing a scarf from his dead mother which is a memory to them, then you’re nothing but an asshole for that. I hate fucking SP for changing the personality on some of the characters on this fanfic movie.

Sakura: look I seen some people claim that Sakura can madara, obito, naruto, Konan, itachi, sasuke, karin, and others characters and I want to know give me a explanation of how can she defeat this characters? Yes she is strong but does that mean she can beat everyone, no. Madara can easily beat Sakura probably in like a second or minute, Madara is more stronger than Sakura. Also explain to me how can she defeat Karin who was long ass uzumaki chains and Konan who has millions or thousands of paper bombs, so how the fuck can she handle those. Also some Sakura fans are sensitive if you criticize her, if you say something about her then the Sakura fans will attack them, same for hinata fans they do the same thing of what Sakura fans do. It’s funny whenever someone calls hinata pretty or another female character pretty then some Sakura fans are like “nO sAkUrA iS OnLy pReTTy!!” I guess we can’t call other female pretty other than Sakura.

Sasusaku and Naruhina: I sometimes see on twitter about who’s the better ship sasusaku or naruhina and I will say this, they are both terrible ships/couples. They shouldn’t all have been single because sasuke has never shown any love interest in Sakura and girls. Yes they did have moments together but does that mean he loves her? No. He did care for Sakura in og Naruto but did sasuke love her? No he cares her because she’s their teammate so why are some ss fans acting sasuke loves her because he cares for her as a teammate. Almost the same for Naruhina. Naruto ignores her for years but out of nowhere they married? I mean sasuke and Naruto doesn’t even look happy with their wives. Naruto with sasuke he has a big smile but Naruto with hinata it looks like he has a polite smile where he’s forced to take a picture with his family. Sasuke doesn’t look happy around sakura, he just looks annoyed around her. Also what fucking annoys me that I sometimes see some sasusaku fans compare Sasuke and Sakura to Obamitsu(Obanai x Mitsuri) relationship. Really, you’re really comparing a toxic relationship to a healthy relationship? Let me tell you how sasusaku is nothing like Obamitsu

Sakura: was obsessed with sasuke for years and chases after him.

Misturi: wasn’t obsessed with obanai and didn’t chase him and cares for his feelings and wishes.

Sasuke: doesn’t have a shit about Sakura, tried to kill 3 times, abandoned his family for 13 years, doesn’t know he had a daughter, doesn’t visit his family, looks uncomfortable and annoyed with Sakura.

Obanai: cares for misturi, didn’t try to kill her, didn’t abandon her, looks comfortable and happy around mitsuri.

So explain to me how is sasusaku is like Obamitsu. I bet Sasusaku fans compare them to obamitsu is because

Sakura and Mitsuri: Both have pink hair, strong, both has green eyes, both has a crush on black hair guys.

Sasuke and Obanai: Both has black hair, strong, both has snakes.

Also mitsuri goal didn’t revolve around obanai. But Sakura goal lead to revolve Sasuke.

It’s also hilarious how people will shit on hinata for stalking Naruto and losing fights while Sakura did the same thing as hinata.

That’s all for today. You can always correct me

#anti sakura fandom #anti ss fandom #anti naruto novels #manga #anti sasuke retsuden #anti naruto ending #anti sasusaku fandom #anti sasusaku #anti naruto the last #anti hinata #anti naruhina #anti nh #anti naruhina fandom #anti nh fandom #anti hinata fandom #anti sakura #anti sakura haruno #anti hinata hyuga #anti Sakura haruno fandom #anti hinata hyuga fandom

[nephilimeq]

Hey, I was just wondering what age you thought Derek was in season one? Cause it’s a heavily debated and unknown piece of information. Me personally I always thought he was 19 in the pilot, and this was before I had read anything about the writers wanting him to be that age in the pilot. It was just the way he acted, to me, it doesn’t seem like a mid-20s man. Also stiles says the fire happened “ like ten years ago” but then a few episodes later Peter says he’s been in a coma for 6 years. So I was just curious what you thought. Also stiles saying that is always made out to be taken as it literally happened exactly ten years ago, and people always bring it up but they never talk about how long Peter said it had been.

Sorry if this is long I just enjoy your blog and your thoughts. I wanted to share mine while also hearing it from your perspective. Hope you have a wonderful day, you deserve it!

This is a very tricky subject to handle, because the writers made mistakes in their own timeline so they switched things around.

But in the very first episode Stiles says that Derek is only a few years older than them. I always figured that Derek was around 19 in Season 1, while Stiles was 16.

The reason why they messed everything up so horribly is because they hadn't actually created a timeline for all the events when they started writing, and to me, it made the show feel like a fan fiction writer who was just making it up as they went and then all the reviewers were saying, "Hey, you have a few continuity errors," and instead of trying to make it work, they just made something up and didn't really try to go back and adjust anything.

There's a scene that happens when Stiles is asking Peter and Cora about Derek's past (Season 3, Episode 8 "Visionary"), and he is trying to find out how old they are, and this train wreck section of dialogue occurs:

Stiles: Okay, if Derek was a sophomore back then, how old was he? How old were you? ...How old are you now? Peter: Not as young as we could have been, but not as old as you might think. Stiles: Okay, that was frustratingly vague. How old are you? Cora: I'm seventeen. Stiles: See, that's an answer. That's how we answer people. Cora: Well, seventeen how you'd measure in years. Stiles: Alright, I'm just gonna drop it.

This dialogue made me so pissy when I heard it the first time because I knew that this was the writers' response to the viewers and fans. The fans are Stiles in this conversation, and the writers are Peter and Cora being purposely "frustratingly vague" in the hopes that we'll just "drop it", which a lot of us did because they wouldn't give us any straight answers.

They messed up and they know it.

In my head canon -- because it makes the most sense to me -- Derek is three years older than them. Canonically, Derek is actually only ten days older than me, as seen in this enhanced screencap right here (from Season 1, Episode 11, where Kate has him kidnapped and held up in chains):

So according to this he would have been around 22, about to turn 23 in the first season...but here's something to take into consideration. This driver's license isn't for California -- it's for New York. I have a theory that he got a professional fake I.D. so that he could do more jobs (such as bartending) while he was out of state.

Now, when Stiles mentions the fire was "like, ten years ago," I genuinely think that he was just generalizing. Derek was sixteen when Kate took advantage of him raped him, which means that the fire happened when Stiles was around twelve/thirteen (as he has a canonically April 8th birthday, so it all depends on the months).

Regarding anything Peter might have said...please remember that it has been firmly established in the show that Peter is an unreliable narrator. Stiles openly admits that to Cora in the previously mentioned Season 3, Episode 8, "Visionary".

A lot of these issues are because of the lack of consistency from the writers.

I think the biggest problem was when they cast a younger Peter and totally threw the timelines off, trying to make him only a few years older than Derek -- which he wasn't. Peter is Derek's uncle, for crying out loud! The man would have been in his late twenties, early thirties when Derek was a teen, barely looking any different than he does in the show...and yet the writers and producers thought that making him look almost like a teenager was the right call.

I do think it was a last ditch attempt to try and make Derek waaay older than Stiles because they didn't like the shipping -- but they had already established too much of their timeline at that point and simply messed up and didn't have the guts to admit it.

Simply put, I genuinely think Derek was nineteen and turned twenty during season one.

Hope that answers your questions, anon!

#teen wolf #teen wolf meta #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #npheq ask and answer #teen wolf ages #derek hale age #age difference #the teen wolf writers just suck at continuity #continuity #teen wolf continuity #continuity errors

[exhausted-archivist]

Concept Art Moments and Ideas: What I Wish Was Kept

Pretty sure we've all been there. Seen some of the concept art and thought how cool it was and how much you wish it had made it in the final game. These are some of mine, I won't go too much into why they're not in the game, the answer is usually either one of the following or a combination of: they needed to narrow the scope of the project, frostbite was a new engine they were struggling to make do what they needed, time, they didn't feel it had enough narrative weight or purpose, or it would make the world states branch out far too much.

I'm not really wanting to discuss whether or not I agree with cutting them either. I just really think these are neat concept, ones I've thought out how they would fold in, possible ways they could have played out, and some that personally I have worked into my fic just to fully explore the ideas.

Most of the images that don't have a source link came from either the art book or the BioWare Stories and Secrets From 25 Years of Game Development (B25) book.

Now lets start with the most common one:

[Source]

I'm know others have said this, but I really wish that it had been feasible for you to become Divine. Though, honestly this only would have really worked as decision at the end of the series. While personally in my canon world state I don't have anyone I would want to put in that role. I do have an OC who I did design for that and would have been nice to see it play out. Especially come Trespasser.

These are story boards from the art book of the prologue walk through Haven. The voice lines for this are still in the game files even though they're cut. Something I always wanted in the prologue was something to actually motivate me. There is no real sense of danger, and the walk through Haven hold no real weight. It's mostly telling and no showing, it feels hollow after your first play-through where you aren't curious and uncertain. It honestly would have been interesting to me if this was in there and if there were non-standard ending option outside of combat. Provoking the scared survivors to where they mob you, a timer on the mark instead of just the one check point. If it started draining your health the longer you took to get to the Breach. Things that could easily be removed if you decreased the difficulty level and wouldn't impact the game overly much.

[Left Dragon Age Art Book, Right World of Thedas vol. 2 p. 245]

To continue on with my desire for the steaks in Inquisition to be more intense, for you to actually feel some type of risk or hostility from the world. These two are more of an expansion on the attack on Haven. I wish Corypheus was given a more dramatic entrance than being seen on the hill with his Commander. That when he arrived to scoop you up, that it was more ominous and threatening. Something to illustrate as him having this overwhelming presence and force.

In Hushed Whispers had the concept art of King Alistair going with you and honestly, I feel like it is a missed opportunity. Not only would it make sense but there is a sort of thematic element with Alistair once again having to save Redcliffe from a mage. I think this also could have worked if he was king or warden. If he was a warden, it would have been a very nice way to tie in the Warden plot for Alistair and even Loghain. Would have really given the Inquisitor a reason to care about choosing between them or Hawke in the Fade.

[Source]

Matt Rhodes labeled this as Anders in the tags, and I am really intrigued by this prospect. We know by the end of DA2 if he's alive he doesn't have many friends with the displaced mages of Kirkwall after awhile. It would have been nice for him to come back in that Warden role they were considering for the cancelled Exalted March DLC. But what really makes me curious, is why he's out in what we might think is the Western Approach/Hissing Wastes and what happened to his missing right arm.

Alternatively, another scenario I would have liked to see with Anders comes from the B25 book. We see they explored the idea of Anders, as a Grey Warden in the cancelled Exalted March DLC. Honestly, I feel as if he would return regardless of if you killed him or not because we know that Justice can and has prevented fatal injuries from killing Anders before. This could have been an interesting thread to not only pull his story to an end in dai, but also introduce the Warden contact instead of the ones we had. Because he was on the run and the Wardens would offer a degree of protection so he would be unwillingly forced to return, couple that with him knowing of Corypheus - which would likely be the thing that forced the Wardens to keep him alive once they found his prison empty.

[Source]

This is Western Approach concept art, specifically this was suppose to be Adamant. Matt Rhodes describes that it was suppose to be a monastery, self-sustaining, and a place where they could cultivate their own food, weave their own fabrics. It would have been interesting to be able to see it like this, to see the game use this to not only explore how the Wardens survived out here but also how they recovered the fortress after it was wrecked in Asunder. It would have tied in nicely with exploring the fact that the reversal of Tranquility was found here, a fact known to everyone in game at this point (they just didn't know the Seekers hid it from the Chantry and mages). It would have been an excellent way to fold in Rhys, Evangeline, flesh out Cole's backstory and personal quest, and even show another side of the mages - the ones who didn't want to be involved in the war and fled to the Wardens.

Two Words: Giant. Scorpion.

Look how massive that is. I love mega fauna so much. I want something massive to be living in the Hissing Wastes and I want this to be fighting dragons. It would have been amazing. Look at the boards they put out.

[Source]

I want to believe this is for the Western Approach given the ground type and the smoke in the background. If this thing was guarding the sulfur fields by Griffon Keep? It would have been epic. Or even if we saw it fighting the Abyssal dragon. Honestly, I think more areas should have had a competing predator for the dragons to be fighting. It would have been cooler if they kept great bears (previously known as Dragon Bears) at their massive size to fight a dragon in the Emerald Graves too.

[Source]

That said, this scorpion concept gets even better when you see the concept art for smaller versions being Venatori mounts.

How do you not get stabbed bud? How do you domesticate/train this? What is the intelligence of this little critter? I can just picture a play on the scorpion and the frog happening here. This would have been really cool as mini-bosses or something of that nature. Particularly around the ruins, Venatori operations, or raids against the keeps.

Another piece from B25, we see new concept art of the Inquisitor leaving Skyhold with the Inquisition as Skyhold is destroyed in the background. We learned from David Gaider that at one point Skyhold was actually suppose to be attacked by Corypheus, but it ended up being cut due to time/scope. This is something I wish they kept, having your second base attack, you home at the point where you felt the strongest and potentially after a recent victory.

It would have reminded the player that Corypheus and his commander, Calpernia or Samson, were a real and active threat. Something missing from Inquisition honestly. It would have been interesting to see if we had to find a new base of operations or if we had to rebuild. When first settling in Skyhold everyone mentions being able to see the enemy coming, about not retreating from Skyhold. They really built up an expectation that at the very least a scare of an attack would happen.

There would have been a sort of poetic sense to Skyhold being leveled. Considering it is of Fereldan make, built on top of a leveled elven site. To have the site once again leveled, the history brought back to its foundations. It would have been a thematic foreshadowing to what Solas plans to do as well.

These are clearly just things I found interesting, things I feel would have really added to the game, and some others might not agree with. There are other things I wish they hadn't cut, but I didn't want to include anything that has been post-humorously mentioned by the devs because I wanted to focus more on the concept art aspect. A lot of decisions were shaped by circumstances we'll never really know the full scope of, and sometimes I wonder if they had gotten more than the 3-4 years they had for Inquisition and maybe on an engine that wasn't so fickle and worked better for the style of game how different it would have been.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #dragon age concept art #cw insect #cw scorpion #cw blood #wishlist of my heart #what could have been #long post #archi is yelling into the void

[blade-that-was-broken]

HC for the soldier au, you know how kids in the US write those letters to soldiers overseas that the schools never like check before sending out so they say the most unhinged shit. Anyway a lot of the time they try to send those letters to squads of soldiers from the same state or area that the soldiers from the squad are from (this is not always the case but sometimes it is). Anyway basically one time one of branches letters made it to the front of a war that JD was fighting in and JD went feral trading and bribing people to get that letter cause branch actually signed that thing with his first and last name and it’s now one of jds prized possessions that he laminated and took with him everywhere.

Branch is touched but also super embarrassed when he finds this out because 3rd grader Branch was going through it and was a weird ass kinda emo 9 year old due to the family drama going down at the time so the letter says something like “thank you for being a soldier so smart kids like me don’t have to die in war” (this is a quote taken from a real unhinged soldier letter that a real soldier in Afghanistan actually received) with a crayon drawing of like a guy getting shot.

Headcanon no more! It's canon now. I love this so much

In the end, it was Dickory who got it.

John was pretty sure he stole it but he didn't care.

All of the guys - even that sheep's face, Chaz - knew about John's strange situation and the forced estrangement from the brothers he could not find. It was the one thing that John didn't really shut up about and most of them let it go, passing it off as sadness or grief or whatever, since he hadn't seen or heard from them in years. It was entirely possible he never would. And considering how John normally was - fairly quiet, kind of eerily still sometimes - they let it pass. Except for Chaz but well, no one cared what Chaz wanted.

Not every soldier in their platoon received a letter from a kid that day but a few did. And the moment John heard the name, he practically went feral.

Which, in hindsight, they all probably should have seen coming. He was practically raised in the woods. And if how John spoke about it was any indication, it was far in there.

"Yeah dude," someone said at another table. "Our squad got them too. Those kids are insane."

John, Dickory and Growly Pete were in a mess hall lunch room. Although John tended to avoid it, especially when Chaz was there, as fights were prone to break out for some reason, Dickory pretty much twisted his arm for it. Not that it was hard. JD and Dickory were pretty close, surprisingly so. It probably didn't help that John was a softie when it came to people he cared about. Which was most of his squad.

"What happened to normal names like Steve or Bethany? Parents are comin' up with crazy weird names these days!"

"I got a Dawn," another guy replied. "That's not too bad."

"Better than mine."

"What name was on yours?"

"Get this. Kid's name was Branch. Who does that?"

John went rigid within the moment and both Dickory and Pete noticed right away, glancing up from their food. "Nein," Dick grumbled with his nose wrinkling. "What is this? Why are you like this?"

He didn't respond, just stood up and whipped around to the other table. The others jumped, a little surprised at the sudden and slightly menacing presence. "Can we help you...?"

"Do you still have it?"

"Have what?"

"The letter."

"From the weirdo named kid?"

"Hmmmm."

The other soldiers glanced at one another. "Nw. One of the other squad guys found it hilarious and wanted it."

"Who?"

"What is your problem?"

"WHO?"

And that was how it started. John spent every spare minute tracking down that letter, which kept switching hands constantly. It was like John was chasing a butterfly in the wind. The squad quickly learned not to say anything about it or how John was acting. Of course Chaz decided not to listen.

He got pain for his troubles.

The rest of the platoon heard rumors and liked playing around. Suddenly it was kind of a game to keep it out of John's hands. It wasn't out of malice. If anyone knew who it was or what it meant, they wouldn't dare. Keeping a soldier from a loved one's communication was shameful and an unspoken rule.

Then one night Dickory hopped on John's bed, almost crushing his legs and shoved the paper in John's face. "Di-" John jumped and then sputtered. "What is this?"

"What do you think, you fool?" Dickory huffed. "I got it for you."

John stared at it. "Is this..."

"Ja," Dick nodded.

"Did you... dude, did you steal this?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter? You have it now and this foolish game can cease. I understand what it is even if these other idiots do not."

"Thanks man... this, this means..."

"A lot. I know. Are ya going to open it?"

John did so carefully and barked out a short laugh. "He's funny."

"Is it your brother?"

"Yeah," he sighed, wistfully. "He signed his full name. Do you want to read it?"

"I don't have to. I got it for you not for... what do they say? Giggles?"

John laughed lightly. "I think you'll like this."

"Dear Soldier,

Would you like to trade places with me? I think you could handle my stupid family better and I'd be okay with marching around and learning how to hold a gun.

My brothers are dumb, eat all the food in the house and always want to go out watching music. You listen to music, not watch it.

My teacher says I need to thank you so thanks for doing your marching and shooting so smart people like me don't have to. But really, if you want a break and like watching music - call me. I could use a break.

But I guess do the shooting. Don't get shot. I'm pretty sure that is your job anyway.

If there are any girls there marry her, get it over with before you get old and ugly when your done. Best to do it now. Unless you are already old and ugly well then sorry.

Have you ever fought a shark? Some soldiers are on boats so I thought maybe you have. Punch the nose. unless you are one of those in the woods. Don't run from a bear. It'll catch you. Good luck.

Branch

"Your brother is... random," Dickory noted, curiously. "Where did the wife and shark come in?"

"He's like, nine, Dick," John smiled. "He's just a kind."

"One day, John Dory, you're going to meet him again and I am entirely sure you will be best friends."

"One can only hope."

#soldier on au #ask #John Dory #Dickory #literally any pictures or things John has #he keeps them as prized possessions #this would be one of them #also he has written letters to his brothers over the years #obviously never sent them because he didn't know where they are #so this dude just has this random stack of letters he has written over the years that were never sent #sad thought of the day

[foressfaction]

Im gonna ramble

Or well its more of a vent cause i love yall and feem comfortable being able to just randomly vent yet ramble about thoughts like this.

NOTE: i am Not attacking or hating on other's takes or head canons if anything im just expressing a thought ive had that ive had personal mixed feelings with.

Trans Toby is such a comfort yet scary to me at the same time. Its obvious i use him as a sense od escape and project myself heavily onto him since I've pretty much identified as him for a whilw now due to my silly brain. The idea of putting what pains me so much onto him makes me so fuckin sad. I use him as a way to present CIS and like..be a biological male ofc.

Me, being pre T and pre surgeries coming summer time it gets worse every year and that ive actually thought of having alternate realities where i could make him trans but like me, before the medical transitions. But as someone who uses a CIS character to escape being trans its super hard to think that.

When i see other's takes on it its so fuckinh cute and almost comfortable but when i thought about it...It made me really sad?? Obviously i hc him as just a cis dude.

The thought of him like doing his own top surgery is like, relatable? Im about there myself tbh. Maybe he's already years on T but realistically idk

How that would be possible giving he lives in thw woods and how would he have medical access to that ect ect..

With others its easy to project their actual lives onto characters in the form of head canons but its like i almost wanna stray as far as i can away from mine so i dont have to also live it through whats suppose to be my escape, my relief.

Although its painful for me personally and a sensitive topic, its been on my mind alot lately. Especially thinking about senarios thay couod happen with Jack about it, him being quite knowledgeable in the medical field and finding out that type of stuff and loving no matter what because maybe i just

i dunno maybe i crave something like that myself..

Sometimes i just wanna draw him with the scars, or with a binder, but i don't personally headcanon that. That sucks cause i almost want to? My mind won't let me, as that would just be me thinking in headspace like...Im trans in both worlds, and theres nothing wrong with being trans obviously. Its just the huge source of mu depression and it holds me back from so much, why would i want that for something that i escape to, and sometimes i want to cry cause of the writing senarios and ideas that would hurt me to write but could also stim as a vent of some sort.

Though the idea of it all being pre operation and HRT hurts me as that's my current issue, maybe having it all be already done and in the past..So i can live through someone that has achieved what i desire. Sometimes i think of that..

Being trans is a big part of me but i don't let it define me like the stupid state i live in. Why do i find it so hard to project it? It's not a bad thing. Its a beautiful thing, plus i love representation.

I can always just live through the other's takes on it. It is vert cute and would honestly make sense giving he is actually most appearance goals for MOST trans mascs.. I. Feel like we all just kinda gathered towards him as a character due to his lore sorta being able to have multiple meanings.

And that's why i just think he's neat and that the trans hcs are amazing. And my struggle to ever personally think that :((

#creepypasta #slenderverse #foressfaction #ticci toby #toby rogers #ticci toby headcanons #headcanons #creepypasta headcanon

[proosh]

what was that about gil having dreams about the future? (no pressure!)

Oh anon my beloved thank you so much; I dropped that little tidbit into that post hoping someone would ask about it

The truth is that while it is a strongly held headcanon of mine, it’s something of half a historical in-joke, and half a metanarrative indulgence. I’ll cover both of these respectively, in case you want just the historical reasoning and not so much my deranged meta-analysis on nations, narrative, and metanarrative. With this in mind;

Prussia as Cassandra, A Meta

A brief historical overview

The Old Prussians practiced omen-reading and regarded seers with high regard, which was acknowledged as valid by the Teutonic Knights (when the omens predicted victory in battle, at least) and was practised by both men and women

White Ladies are supposedly ghosts of women who haunt the Hohenzollern family as omens of misfortune and especially as messengers of coming death. Notably, Queen Sophia Louise was once afflicted by a bout of madness in 1709 and dressed only in her white nightgown and having cut herself on some broken glass and screamed at King Frederick I (grandfather of Fritz) that "the plague would devour the king of Babylon". In part due to the White Lady folklore, he took this with serious regard and proceeded to prepare Berlin against the upcoming plague (which very much devastated wide swathes of both Prussia and the rest of Northern Europe)

Bismarck very probably never actually said the famous "damned foolish thing in the Balkans" quote that people like to trot out about the inevitability of World War 1 so I hesitate to include it here as historical fact, but for the purposes of elaborating on the "historical in-joke" half of this meta I will gesture to it as a vague suggestion of an ironic future-vision that, as I will discuss shortly, I think makes a certain degree of narrative sense.

Now, moving on to the narrative background and arguably the meat of this meta:

Narrative analysis

Entire books could and have been written about the depiction of history, and the fictionalisation of history for the purposes of narrative storytelling, especially in regards to the personification of abstract concepts like nation-states and their associated concepts. Unfortunately I cannot afford to go to university so you are getting this post instead.

For the purposes of this discussion strict literal academic historicity is not our goal, but rather HWS Prussia as a narrative construct within the sandbox of Hetalia as a story that involves and adapts history but is not necessarily directly representative of it.

Within this frame of analysis, Prussia as a character is a distinctly weird choice for Himaruya to make: To establish him as an ongoing, extant entity in the modern day is definitely A Narrative Choice to make, and honestly not really one I could personally imagine making. Perhaps it's a lingering result of questionable initial research, perhaps there's some meat to chew on in regards to this.

Prussia's design is one that stands out, compared to the rest of the mostly-naturalistic cast. We have the initial design concept for him depicting him as an older, rugged man, and we also have his very early canon design that depicts him with blond hair and blue eyes. However, the decision was made at some point relatively early on to change his design to be distinctly and notably Not Natural: Some debate has been made about to what degree is he actually albino, but the design is still notable for being distinctly 'set apart' from the other nations.

From there, we have to start asking questions about why this decision was made. My personal first thought was perhaps it was inherently tied to his creation as an "unnatural" state in the form of the Teutonic Knights. Voltaire's popular quote about Prussia not being a nation with an army, but rather an army with a nation might come to mind. However, we have been provided with the designs of the other Orders and they don't share his design traits in favour of their own design language, meaning that line of question falls short.

From there, I think it's not unreasonable to suggest that Prussia was designed - in his final, canon form - with his dissolution in mind. It sets him apart visibly from the rest of the established nations, and fundamentally Others him from the rest of the cast - a similar design concept used with Russia, who is within the canon framework of Hetalia, heavily associated with the sinister supernatural as signaled by his unnaturally coloured eyes.

Therefore, on a narrative level, Prussia's appearance foreshadows his own death, and his death was inevitable from the very beginning.

(Turns out the Calvinists were right, huh?)

With all that in mind, I don't find it unreasonable to take that dramatic narrative irony and apply that inherent 'friction' to the rest of Prussia's story: His narrative is haunted by his own death.

By virtue of his creation and his design (and within the framework of the text, his existence) he is doomed to die, and that singular event ripples back through his narrative almost like a psychic shockwave. Everything he Is points towards The End.

When that End comes, it 'releases' a good deal of that narrative tension. Himaruya has said that he designed Prussia to be something of a villainous character and the dissolution provides the suitable narrative endpoint in that regard. However.

The narrative framework of Hetalia continues, as the history it adapts tends to do, which begins to create a new form of narrative tension due to The Decision to have Prussia continue existing into the 'modern' setting. Himaruya has been incredibly cagey about this and besides the ongoing mystery of The HRE Situation the topic of Prussia's ongoing existence is something he's been noticeably coy about in his discussions and implications of East Germany and the following Reunification, but that's an entirely separate essay from what this one is about.

Fundamentally, I think that Prussia - as a narrative construct - is inherently and on a foundational level tied to his own eventual nonexistence, and the dramatic tension of What Comes After. I think he knows, on some primal, unfathomable level, and rages against it right up until it comes for him and he has to learn how to pick up the pieces of himself, his legacy, and his own narrative.

With that intrinsic narrative irony in mind, I don’t think it is too out there to suggest that he possibly (unintentionally, unconsciously) channels the future-sight that keeps cropping up in Prussian history, as noted above. At least in some form, I think he resonates with the coming End in a way that he cannot fully comprehend or articulate and like the Cassandra of myth there is nothing he can do to warn about or avert the doom that he sees and senses.

Troy could not be saved, and neither can he.

But that's just a theory. A game theor—

If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This really got away from me and I really do hope that it's at least somewhat comprehensible.

#hws prussia #hetalia meta #mine #my writing #from the askbox

[uldren-sov]

The new normal

A look into the band and a start of what real fame may start to look like as always it GOT AWAY FROM ME and initially it was just going to be the ending bit but if I don't give context I will explode ~3k words lil @infamous-if ficlet Camy Rose is mine! Everyone else (but those fans) are canon

✩

Camy should not be alive right now. Or at least, she should not be awake right now, not after the party that happened last night. It’s day two of a two day music fest and even though they had two-day passes, they were only scheduled to perform on day one. Which meant the after-party for all the other bands also only playing on the first day had every right going as hard as it did, but had no right leaving her in the state that it did. 

She remembers doing her due diligence: rubbing elbows, laughing, networking, and making fast friends with the right people. She remembers the flashes of recognition, the compliments on her band’s performance and their newest album, the excitement of the connection was happening with other bands, mutual comments of admiration, and all of the selfies and pics and tags to show off brand new friends. She also remembers the tight smiles, the sympathy in some words, the condolences that still haven’t gone away, because despite their new album – Gambit – finally coming out (more like getting ripped out of her like a bullet would in an action movie), despite it doing better numbers than she would have ever expected, despite it getting better reception than she anticipated, despite it being over a year later, despite Soft Violence’s debut; the breakup, the breakdown was still on everyone’s tongue. She remembers the drinks, the drugs, the laughter, the dancing, and hands gripping her clothes. She doesn’t remember much after that. 

But at least she woke up in her hotel room, not only with all her clothes on, but on the correct way, without any kind of signs that there was anyone else here besides Jazzy. Small victories and she’ll take them where she can get them. Wait, Jazzy? She doesn’t remember falling back asleep but the next time she opens her eyes – it’s raining? The rain is warm and it’s soaked her through, her clothes feeling like a weird, warm, weighted blanket. No, that’s stupid. It’s not raining inside. She’s in a white tub, in a white tiled bathroom, and Jazzy has her chin propped up on her hand at the edge of the tub smiling as their eyes meet. 

“I’m not going to recreate that Vine-” the headache bursts behind Camy’s eyes and she’s scrambling to hunch over the tub’s drain in the next second. Hands drag her long navy hair away from her face as she dry heaves with her whole back curling with the effort. A gulp of air wracks her before she rests her head against the cool tile, even as her headache pounds with every beat of her heart. “I’m good.” She gasps, sagging down and curling into a more comfortable position, nausea sharp in her stomach even if the soft patter of water alleviates some of the tension across her body. 

The familiar snapping of a top twisting open reverberates in the small bathroom as a plastic bottle is pressed into her grip.  

“You’re amazing,” Camy groans, blindly sipping the electrolyte filled drink. She knows immediately she needs to stop after just a couple of sips.

“You know it,” Jazzy says gently. “I’m kinda feeling nostalgic, actually. It’s been a hot second since we’ve done these, like, frat party recovery sleepovers,” she teases gently, placing the bottle on the corner of the tub so it won’t have too much water in it from the shower.  

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she replies around the pounding in her head. “Though look at you, being the responsible one and not being here in the tub with me. Guess I owe Chris something for stealing you last night.” Peeking an eye open she dares a shaky smile as she draws herself up straight with even shakier arms. Jazzy watches her closely, just in case she might slip or collapse or something. Even if she wants to tell her she’s worrying over nothing, they’ve both been fucked up with each other during college. So she’ll hold onto her conclusions and be thankful for the safety net. 

“Designated driver, Camy-baby. I got you and don’t worry about him.” And Camy feels some hair getting drawn out of her face. “By the way, no need for any damage control. Or, well, at least from you. Not sure who Rowan went off with. But! Your phone’s been blowing up, and we got a ton of good feedback on our Insta after yesterday. You were on fire, girl, and I’m glad you got to let loose.” 

Is that what I was doing? Sure, partying now is part of her work, and Jazzy’s summary does put some part of her mind that isn’t screaming at her, at ease. But she can admit to herself she might have gone a bit overboard… 

“‘Kay, good,” she groans. Reaching out, Jazzy puts the bottle back in her hand before she gets it herself. As she sips from her bottle and lets the warm shower rain over her face, she thinks she’s slowly feeling better. “And maybe once I get over this hangover I’ll agree that partying as hard as I did was a good idea.” She dares a smile because she doesn’t dare trying to laugh along with Jazzy, yet. “I’m better. I’m good. Go check on the others.”

“All right. Love ya,” Jazzy says as she gets to her feet as Camy hums affirmatively in response. “Want help putting your face on later?” 

“No. We’re not performing and I did enough work last night. I’m just a civilian today,” she smiles a little more pointedly and Jazzy backs off. 

Camy manages to hold on until the hotel door closes before she turns and barfs her guts out. 

-

An hour later and she’s found herself in the full length mirror, showered and dried, in clean, dry clothes, glaring at what she sees. 

When Seven ripped the rug out from under her with his move – showing up after a month of radio silence to being caught with boxes of his things stacked near the front door – he left three things behind: his favorite, red, “7” guitar pick because it was under the cushion of a chair he didn’t take; the hoodie he’s had since he was 16 because it got lost between drawers, and; his leather jacket she was wearing as she walked through the door and fought for what would be their last time. She brought the hoodie with her on this trip because it was still the most comfortable thing she owned. Once three, now two, sizes bigger on Seven, she used to be able to curl her legs into her chest and drag it over her whole body to nap on the bus with it. Now it hangs off her, covering her fingertips and nearly covering up the rips and embroidery on the thighs and knees of her jeans. Pair it with her old, trashed, sneakers and completely fresh face, and she looks exactly like she did when she was 17. 

Her hair is longer now, and, well, blue, instead of brown, but can she even say she changed that much? Seven years later and it still feels like she’s waiting to grow up, to work off the shine of adolescence and be beautiful, to find some sign of being different from who she used to be. Maybe she’s even looking for a scar, a sign in her eyes that would tell people she’s different, she’s more mature, she’s irrevocably broken, she’s hanging on by digging her nails and teeth into the things that used to come so easy to her.

What does survivor’s guilt look like on a person?  

Whatever it is, she doesn’t find it. There’s nothing there. Just miserable Little Camila staring back at her. 

She ducks away from her reflection before it has time to judge her, putting on a cap and the hood over the top of it. 

…Maybe her cheekbones are a little more pronounced. 

-

It’s not long until she’s back at the music festival. The whole event is set up as a couple of stages at the back of a massive grass lot, to get to it the fans have to pass through a lane full of tents with merch from bands and food. At the mouth of it is a decorated arch with ticket booths and security and it is still so cool that she can flash her badge saying Talent and just – get into places like this now. Looking back at the lines and, even with her hazy mind, she can manage to appreciate how her band is slowly going from being the people in the lines, to the ones they’re paying to see. 

She tucks her badge back underneath her hoodie and sips from the sports drink she bought from a vending machine as she shuffles further in. Dressed down like she is people just pass by her like she’s invisible, which she gets. She’s dressed like she’s in high school, it makes sense that people treat her like she’s back in high school too. At least she’s free to catch up on social media and the hot mess of a group chat with her band trying to coordinate a meet up. Collecting the clues of what happened last night through photos and messages, following up on some texts, and reaching out to others, she makes her way to where they’re all meeting up as music starts filtering through the air. 

“I’m telling you guys, I think I’m in love,” she catches Rowan’s voice first as she finds them standing around, looking way more the part of musicians, or at least attending a show than she is; especially Rowan who’s still in last night’s clothes. “He was just so- oh, shit, Camy. It’s that kind of morning, huh?” His laugh rattles in her brain as the rest of the band regards her with a spectrum of wary surprise to clear amusement. Flicking her arms out to get her hands out of the sleeves, she grins brightly as she flips them the double birds. 

“Fuck off, I did my time. I’ve earned the right to be comfy today and chill.” She says lightly as she gives him a side-hug to a chorus of light laughter and smiles. She goes around to the others, murmuring ‘morning’ and giving half-hugs and casual greeting kisses to the air beside their cheeks. 

“Aw, I’m going to miss my mosh-pit buddy today,” Jazzy chirps in. Chris emerges behind his girlfriend and hands Camy the final coffee in a four-cup cup holder. She exchanges it for a cheek kiss with a quick thanks, and she gestures to him. 

“Isn’t that what he’s for?” She smiles with a wink as Chris settles a strong hand on Jazzy’s shoulder. 

“It’d be an honor to be in the crowd with you, babe,” he vows down to Jazzy, managing to keep a straight face even as Camy and Rowan snort and Iris shakes her head a little. 

“I wouldn’t have anyone else be my back-up.” She purses her lips together and makes kissy noises at him as she leans in, and of course he plays into it, pursing his lips too and humming until they lean in for just a quick pop of a kiss and a mwah! The rest of them roll their eyes and groans at the display. 

“You guys are ridiculous,” Iris teases around her smile. 

“But still very cute,” Devyn supplies as they look to Iris expectedly. “Maybe we should be more -”

“Absolutely not,” Iris cuts them off as Devyn just laughs gently, snaking her arm around Iris’ as they lean against her affectionately. 

“Gross. We’re honestly so strong dealing with these couples, am I right?” Rowan shoots to Camy with a grin but then stalls out. There’s a flash of alarm and panic as he scans over just what she’s wearing again and all the implication that comes of it. His grin turns brittle and, just for a moment, she lets him stew in it, staring at him flatly. 

“For real.” She smiles back brilliantly after a beat. “If I didn’t think I was sick before, I might be now.” She shrugs her shoulders dramatically, marking the motion of heaving before they all dissolve into a lighter mood and she drinks from the lukewarm coffee. “But, might not be the case anymore because you’re in love? Again?” She narrows her eyes at her prompting.

“Oh! Phew, yeah! Listen, it was magic, okay? Like, he was so cool and when he-” Rowan started again. 

“Oh my god!” A stranger’s voice cuts him off as he groans. All of them turn to regard a group of three people. A young man in a mesh shirt, black shorts and spiked platform boots, the source of the interruption, leads his other two friends who are also decked out in black, studs, and belts over to them. “You’re Chaos Anthem!” 

Camy squeezes her eyes closed as she subtly steps back. Dammit, that’s right. No such thing as downtime anymore, is there? Not when they are actually getting recognized more and more often. They all glance to her quickly before Iris steps forward with a confident smile. 

“That’s right,” and even though she’s opening her mouth to say more, Boots cuts her off with a gasp. 

“I saw your set yesterday-”

“We saw your set yesterday!” One of his friends cuts in, a girl in a short, tight dress that looks like it could double as lingerie. “So awesome.”

“I love the new album!” The third cuts in, the three of them getting closer and slowly crowding Camy out. The band all look between the fans and Camy with alarm as she just smiles wider and wider, trying and failing to hide her amusement. What the fuck is happening?

“Yeah! We all bought it and love the new, harder, sound.” Boots says straight to the others as Camy’s attention flits between the praise of these simultaneously very kind and very dense fans, and Devyn staring at her with alarm as they continue. “Rosa sounds so good-” and she nearly chokes on her spit, “-and you guys are killing it!” Her eyes widen as she stares openly at the back of these fans heads now that they have effectively separated her off. Her thanks is on the tip of her tongue before she bites back a laugh at how they continue. Devyn is about to say something but she quickly shakes her head. This is just too good.

“It’s so awesome and so impressive that you all have that ability to just nail it across genres!” Dress says once more before Boots whips out his cell. The band barely has time to get their thanks across before they continue with their praise and Boots shoves his phone at her. 

“Can you take a picture of us and Chaos Anthem?” As Chris pulls away to get out of the shot he’s the one who breaks first and laughs aloud. She stares openly for a moment, first at the phone then at Boots, before she manages to get the phone into a better grip. 

Turning her back she tries to at least set up the selfie to include her. They wanted the whole band, right? It’d be a dick move to not include herself even if they don’t know. Rowan nods along with the silent decision, throwing his arms around Boots and Dress, as she somehow manages a smile. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dress cuts in and Camy whips around to the remark, wide-eyed. “Just us! Did I say you, too? Be fucking normal, rando.” And Camy almost loses it, Iris has to duck to the side with the effort to hide her laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Sorry,” Camy manages, lowering her voice as her band all have to hold themselves back now. She set up the shot properly and takes a picture of just them and the band. “Got a few, here.” She hands the phone back and it’s snatched from her hand, the three of them turning their backs on her once again.

“Thanks,” Boots says at least. “It was so great to see you guys! Can’t wait until your next shows! And maybe we’ll be able to catch Rosa - I mean, Camy - then.” With a timber of pride in his tone because he knows her real name. “She’s such an inspiration.” From her place behind them she mimes dramatically ‘such an inspiration.’ Jazzy grins as she tries to signal her to reveal herself but she just shakes her head.

“Yeah, maybe,”  Rowan grins at her over their shoulders. “Appreciate the support! You guys are great.” The three of them turn over their shoulder to glance at Camy one more time as she takes a long drink from her coffee. With the cup obscuring even more of her face and her hoodie hiding any kind of shape of her, she doesn’t even blame them as the fans say their goodbyes without another thought. Though she does catch a weird look from them after they leave, most likely as to why some rando is still hanging around the band. 

They all wait until their gone before bursting out laughing. It makes her wince, the added effort of laughing aggravates what remains of her hangover as she recovers the quickest. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Devyn giggles still. Jazzy tapers off her laughter breathlessly, touching up her eyeliner so her tears won’t mess it up. 

“I feel like a fucking superhero with a secret identity,” Camy grins wickedly even though she clutches onto what remains of her coffee for dear life. Hangovers suck so bad. 

“How did they not know?” Rowan gapes as he shakes his head. “Like, who else could you be?”

“Just another fan trying to get your guys’ attention obviously. If they’re only used to seeing me perform,” she shrugs a shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I could not look more opposite right now to that if I tried.”

“Don’t they know that makeup makes you shapeshift?” Iris rolls her eyes with a smirk. 

“You’re joking but-” Rowan starts.

“Quit while you’re behind,” Iris is quick on it as Rowan throws up his hands to another round of chuckles. 

“We should post something like, posing with our number one fan,” Jazzy says with a grin though Camy just shakes her head. 

“Maybe some other time. It does have me thinking that we can start posting less like, official stuff, and more us hanging out? Makes us seem more approachable, maybe doing some QnA streams? Adding what we do in our downtime together, rather than just keeping that to our personals,” she suggests as the rest of her band give various noises or gestures of agreement. 

As they begin to wander toward a performance and Rowan finally continues his story about the newest love of his life, Camy removes the hat and hood to fix her very distinct hair. There’s an immediate no fucking WAY! from somewhere behind them and everyone shares a laugh before she fixes her “disguise” back in place. She gets ready for a rare day off, listening to their peers and colleagues, and soaking in any inspiration she can squeeze from the event. It’s been a while since she felt hopeful, but hopefully this is a sign of better things to come. 

#Infamous if #Infamous OC #My writing #OC: Camy Rose #lil snapshot of the band!! just inspired mostly by this one vid but lmaooo #had a great time exploring the dynamic a bit more and MAN is it hard juggling so many characters in a scene sheeeesh lolol

[autumnmobile12]

Ghost Hunt x My Hero Academia Crossover

So I've wanted to explore the concept of Mai Taniyama's abilities in Ghost Hunt as as Quirk in My Hero Academia for awhile now because, frankly, she has the groundwork for an interesting one: Through clairvoyant dreams, Mai has the ability to witness past events, communicate with the dreams of other people, and even pass along small objects in dreams. She's also incredibly intuitive and has been able to rely on gut feelings in past investigations. (This last one may or may not be a Quirk thing.)

There's a few applications here. Firstly, the retrocognition would be a useful Quirk since it's primary function in Ghost Hunt's canon is showing Mai exactly how a person died. In the My Hero 'verse, this would allow her to determine if an unnatural death was accidental or a homicide, and in a missing person case, the astral projection side of her abilities can allow her to locate victims and determine what condition they're in and maybe find where they are.

The major drawback to this ability, though, is it would be a hellish Quirk to cope with as the way her dreams work, she is often compelled to relive the death as though it were hers. Not exactly the key to a healthy state of mind experiencing the last thoughts and feelings of a person who's died, and possibly violently at that.

...

Realistically, not the flashiest of powers, so she would definitely be on the more obscure side of the Pro-Hero popularity spectrum, probably somebody only Deku has heard about with any real know-how on who she is and what she can do. For comparative purposes, her career path would align closer with Aizawa's in that she can't rely on her Quirk to fight and therefore has to resort to alternative methods to handle a crisis. Abilities speaking, she's definitely geared more toward reconnaissance, stealth, and investigation, which is how she operates in Ghost Hunt anyway and why I went with a darker color scheme for her costume.

I want to incorporate her Nine Cuts somehow, but I haven't settled on a way to do that quite yet.

The name Epimetheia comes from the Greek Titan Epimetheus. I could have gone with some feminine form of Morpheus, the god of dreams, but I really think Mai's retrocognition is the core trait the of her power. Epimetheus is the titan god of hindsight. He 'knew all that came before.'

...

As always for Ghost Hunt, I tend to write Mai as a young adult, so she is not a student in this. Actually, for this crossover, she is much older than the main cast. She's in her twenties in the fanart shown here, but this is decades before the actual timeline.

And with that, here's a brief, un-edited snippet of something I've been playing with:

...

“We’ve actually met once before,”  Hawks said abruptly.

“Have we?”  Taniyama turned to him, confused.  Her expression brightened somehow and the tired, hollowness of her eyes was gone.

“Yep.  I was just a little kid then, so I don’t blame you for not remembering.”  It was so long ago that he barely remembered it.  “It was at the zoo.  I’d heard they were letting kids in for free that day, so I found a chance to get away from my mom and headed out.  I always wanted to see a real elephant.”

Her lips curled into a warm smile. “And did you?”

“Sure did.”  He bobbed his head in brief nod.  “I was standing in front of their enclosure and someone knocked into me with a stroller or something and I dropped my plushie.  As I was trying to get it back, all these people kept kicking it out of the way or stepping on it.  And then it landed by your feet and you picked it up.”

Taniyama was silent.

“I remember you crouched down to give it back to me and you had the biggest smile on your face.  You asked if it was mine.  Thing is, though…I think you noticed how dirty I was.  You asked if I was okay and where my mom was.  You even asked if you could buy me a pair of shoes.”  He hadn’t let her.  If he’d returned home with a brand new pair of shoes instead of the secondhand ones that were falling apart, his dad would have beaten him and demanded to know where he’d gotten them.  Or he would have taken and pawned them for cash the first chance he got.  Or both.  But the hero Epimetheia must’ve suspected that much when he kept refusing her offers to help him with his silence and his nervous shaking head.  “And then your smile became sad and you asked me…

“Do you need help?”

“You were so warm and kind, and I'm sad to say I think that scared me a bit. I wasn't used to that from adults and so I ran away. But even after the Commission took me in, I hoped I would see you again.”  He turned to face her and was horrified to see her eyes running with tears.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!  What’s wrong?  Why are you crying?” Shit, I made an old woman cry!  She’s not that old, but I made her cry!

Taniyama placed a scarred hand over her mouth.  “All these years, I wondered what happened to that little boy I saw at the zoo.”

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