#spoilers for fandoms below
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himi-wiz · 2 years ago
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If I have a nickel for how many pathetically toxic, practically irredeemable unless it's an au adult men I ended up enjoying, I'll have 3 nickels.
It's not a lot but it sure as hell weird. Also all three are involved in the stem field in some way who are determined to stick to their committed evil paths even if it sucks for them and two of them are retired military personnel that are pretty shitty dads or dad-figures in their 40s.
Guessing game:
First is a sorry excuse of a doctor running a Mafia whose greatest joy seems to be shipping his apprentices, acting delusional enough so people would underestimate him but also he likes being delusional anyways, game theory and bugging his ex-husband. Way too obsessed with finding optimal solution, please stop logick for once and have a heart, you managed that in a canonical au before why are you doing this.
Second is a conman who helped the current government overthrow the system by creating the setting's famed mind control musical device, may have helped created a bunch of pink clone children and is happily avoiding child support (for both his bio and clone ones) and spends his life on various schemes cheating people out of money. At least he's got drip and a very good voice. 100/10 will get cheated and wouldn't even realise it.
Third one is a sad mop of a failing med student pressured by his parents who gets obsessed with hunting down his current target because of jealousy when this walking inferiority complex can't cope with his daddy/mommy issues. Talking about why he is heinous is a serious spoiler but when your best friend is a little girl who understands you because you both have antisocial tendencies is not a good sign.
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sewerpalette · 1 day ago
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If somebody hosted a Subnautica MAP, would you join?
I mean I would; but then again it’s a pretty small fandom we’re in here, so even if somebody had an idea for a MAP and managed to properly host it I don’t even know if we’d be able to get enough people involved to finish it.
Disclaimer that I am not going to host a MAP myself because I am not in the slightest experienced in hosting or even participating in one, I just wanted to put the idea out there and see if it would even be a plausible idea for a fandom project to work on.
If you do not know what a MAP is, it stands for Multiple Animator Project and I suggest reading up on it or watching a video about the topic before participating in this poll.
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luckyartdrawer · 8 days ago
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(Warning: Body horror, Dead bugs, Blorbo in bad shape, Sap that looks like blood)
Putting the art below since I think a good chunk of people may not wanna see their blorbo be stuck in a tree covered in bugs. :)
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(Apologies for the 10 seconds of dead air, Tumblr won't upload music without it!)
I am the honeybee
Drink the blood of the tree
I can't breathe, I can't see
Evil wind comforts me
Buried deep inside of me
Acarine
Buried deep inside of me
Acarine
vvv Alts and Yapping below! vvv
(Wish we could do more than one break rip)
No Bees, No Post Processing
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Goofy ahh starting sketch
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HEHEHE BE SUBJECTED TO THE MIND OF A CYCLE PATH
But actually you are being subjected to my music tastes, literally this whole idea comes from my interpretation of lyrics from the hit band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. ✨✨✨
Like imagine this: You wake up one day after years of being offline, only to find that you've been abandoned for so long that a full on tree grew through you. (Like how some do with stop signs or other posts.) The sap is all mucked up in your gears and all over your body, and then you notice all the little bees eating the sap. But oh- they aren't moving. With a quick scroll through the ceaseless database in your mind, the answer finds itself. You, the tree, and these bees are infested with Acarine.
Hope y'all enjoyed the art and the little snippet of the song I added in! :3
It just didn't feel right to not add the song I mean C'MON THE MOOD OF THIS MAN- THE SONG IS SO MOODY
AND ITS ONLY A TRANSITION SONG UAGHHH- I love this band <3
Anyways, combining both of my hyperfixations has proven to have done magic for me, so follow your heart lovelies. lololol
(Definitely not the last time Imma do that either oop-)
I have multiple art projects I already started but I cranked this one out in 5 hours because I needed it out of my head. I also thought it would be an amazing lighting practice and a good excuse to try new brushes and techniques. :333
It seems like with how busy I was in both October and November, I didn't get all the spookiness out of me yet. I've been thinking of horror stuff so much lately. o3o Hopefully this lets me embrace the holly jolly now lol
Man I'm so glad fall semester is over, I needed this-
I also need to go to bed 2:30 already uagh-
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I haven't read the book of bill but I'm thinking this sums it up based on all of the posts I've seen:
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ponds-of-ink · 5 months ago
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Quick Audio “Analysis” of One Into The Pit Easter Egg
More Into The Pit spoilers below. Still minor, but it’s a wild Easter egg that’s related to the character tag.
Nonetheless, small ramble incoming.
I cannot believe we got audio of William’s Springlock Incident from FNAF 3. On FNAF’s 10th anniversary.
I don’t care if it was probably sound effects from an audio library and not PJ Heywood going all out on William writhing in pain (and trying to muffle it?). Legit the fact that it’s most likely canon that William had the most pathetic whimpering/screaming is just.
Stunning, really?
I thought for sure they’d go the more movie-type route where he tries to go “this is fine :’}” and suffers in silence, but no.
For a split second, the pathetic mess of a man from the Silver Eyes came back and horrified everybody. Maybe even going beyond that, but that’s up to y’all.
TL;DR: FNAF Spring-locks hurt, dude. They can even make the worst villains feel like crying. ..Or maybe even actually cry, if I’m hearing the audio correctly.
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ninjacreature · 8 months ago
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recently ive been rewatching voltron and i decided to go through the tag for keith’s mom and
oh my god it’s misako all over again is this just something that happens everywhere
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peachybuggames · 1 year ago
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sooo ive finally gotten around to (binge) playing bug fables after years of knowing of/having it and ive made it very far in!!! like 32+ hours im (minimal/very vauge spoiler ahead) just past the giants lair, actually! speaking of the giants lair, i just have ooone statement when it comes to it:
what the FUCK what the actual FUCK!!!!!
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butcharyastark · 6 months ago
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idk at the end of the day im here for louis, so louis getting to go murdercrazy on the people who killed his daughter? telling his abuser to fuck off in loneliness for the next 70 years? getting to kick his new abuser out of their apartment and then go HOME after all this time? getting the recognition and acknowledgement of the decades worth of guilt and horror over their daughter's death? telling every other vampire in the world who dont know shit about his experiences to make a move or shut up bc this is HIS life now???? good as fuck content.
but i trusted these writers to do better than "mutual abuse is real and love makes it okay" as a final note. i dont come here for the implication that louis was somehow equally toxic or that decades of weaponized and racist domestic abuse can be pushed aside bc the abuser felt rightfully guilty and its been a century. i dont come here for the implication that armand is somehow overtly worse than lestat when theyve done the exact same things in different ways. gothic horror is always abt complex emotions but til now its felt like all that was correctly attributed to unreliable narrators. im glad louis got his catharsis but why does it feel like louis was the one comforting lestat? why was he the one apologizing AGAIN with no confrontation on that by the narrative? lmao.
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crokitheloki · 6 months ago
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Bridgerton community stop being homophobic challenge
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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 8 months ago
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TADC: Thoughts on Jax in Episode 2
Thoughts on Jax after Amazing Digital Circus Episode 2 Dropped.
Massive spoilers below the cut. Just watch the ep before you read.
Amazing Digital Circus had an amazing second episode as we're introduced more to what the adventures are like, and what NPCs are like and ofc the existential horror of being a living AI only created for a source of entertainment.
Also, I love the dream sequence at the beginning, because we actually get some deeper insight into Pomni's thoughts on Ragatha. Feeling like her helpfulness is the guise of like "man, you're not cut out for this like the rest of us" which is typically something a lot of people who have been bullied in highschool perceive genuine acts of kindness and engagement. (which I kind of suspect Pomni might have been, or at least, been a shut-in and didn't have a lot of friends in her human life. )
Jax wasn't really the main focus of the episode, but it wasn't really until the end of the episode I understood his behavior and what this episode is foreshadowing overall.
Since while Jax isn't the focus emotionally, he is definitely the plot device to push things forward. And I mean, a plot device in a very active and quite literal way. He's the one that causes Pomni to clip out of the map, takes advantage of everyone and is just... genuinely an unpleasant person.
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I actually really like this.
As, I know the first episode in the digital circus, many people (me included) could perceive or analyze Jax's actions as someone who is "helping" in a roundabout asshole way. Episode Two has none of that here. He just wants Bloodshed, And I love that we're getting additional context on his character.
It's hard to tell how much fan reception Gooseworx saw of episode one before episode two hit production, so I don't know how much of the fandom perception of Jax had an influence on the writing process, but I can't deny that might have been a factor in assuring us "no he's not secretly helpful, he's just an asshole" But I'm just going to assume that this has been part of his characterization from the start and it becomes way more clear as the episode goes on.
But there was something in his behavior throughout this whole episode that seemed off to me. Like Jax was taking up a majority of the B-plot, while Pomni had the A-plot. So I was wondering why Jax seemed to be the protagonist with the B-plot when Pomni was the A-plot when they seemed to be so disconnected with eachother in motivations and telling us things about the characters.
But then it hit me when the episode ended and the two plots merged together.
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"who... knows... what could happen..."
And then it hit me.
Pomni finds comfort in an NPC who is going through a similar experience to her and can emphasize, despite their being other humans who have gone through the same thing, due to her self-admitting to being a loner in her human life. Well, she didn't admit it outright, but from how she perceives Ragatha's kindness as an act, or patronizing, it seems like she doesn't have a lot of friends...
Meanwhile... Jax... He treats the adventure like a videogame. Why shouldn't he? He's trapped in a videogame, right? But it really goes beyond that.
The fellow humans that Jax is trapped with, he treats THEM like they're NPCs, while Pomni treats the NPC like they're human.
Jax says to Gangle "Aren't you supposed to be the suggestible one?" Which you wouldn't typically wouldn't say to a person, right? That's something you would say more about a character that you maxed out the dialogue trees in.
He calls Pomni "His Bridge" even.
They're his objects. His tools, his own npcs he's exhausted the dialogue options on.
Jax dehumanizes the players in a way that Pomni humanizes the NPCS.
These are two opposite ends of the spectrum but what really sold it for me was Jax's reaction to the funeral.
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And Jax is the one member out of the cast who doesn't even show up to the funeral. (aside from Caine and Bubble but they are AI.)
He does NOT want to think about the Players as real people. And showing that opposite perspective compared to Pomni I think is much as important going forward.
Jax was the plot catalyst of this entire episode, and served the thematic theme of the episode quite well, even if it didn't look like it on first glance.
I absolutely loved this episode and I can't wait for more.
Also... Poor Pomni can't have shit in Detroit
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nuria-schnee · 4 months ago
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Hi, everyone! ❤️
When I said I might write this, I didn't think I'd be going so insane over it, but here we are. The brainrot is strong, and I'm determined to create as much as I can. I love the series with all my heart, and I love this beautiful fandom, and what happened won't stop us, dammit.
I was so angry and sad yesterday that ideas didn't stop coming, and before I knew I had most of the fic outlined and was already working on the screencaps for it.
Anyway, this is my attempt to write the season we deserved. I wanted to bring a bit of content in this hard time for all of us. I hope it works, even if only for a bit. This is just a preview, but I wanted to share even so.
A bit of information
Publication date of the 1st chapter: September 14th
I'll update every two weeks (hopefully)
Every chapter will be an "episode"
Every Wednesday I'll be sharing a "sneak peek" of the next chapter here on Tumblr, so you don't have to wait so long
Every chapter will have a playlist.
I'll be sharing the screencaps of the chapters as the story goes. No spoilers in them, don't worry.
The work on AO3 is already posted, in case someone wants to subscribe already and get the notification when I post the first chapter. Now, there's only an index with what I'm sharing on Tumblr, and I'll update it regularly.
Don't forget to take care of yourselves ❤️ See you very soon!
Transcriptions of the summary and chapters below the cut!
Summary
Ghosts are going missing all around London. The disappearances lead Edwin and Charles directly to a mysterious entity, known as The Summoner, that is about to make their afterlives very complicated.
Chapters
The Case of the Flashing Light: Months after returning from Port Townsend, the Dead Boy Detectives find themselves overloaded with cases of ghosts disappearing all around London. As they investigate this mystery, someone seems to be trying to catch Edwin's attention through the agency's mirror.
The Case of the White Realm:
The Case of the Explosive Garden: Things are tense in the agency after the last case, but none of them wants to address it. They are too busy for that. The cases of missing ghosts are piling up on their desk and the Summoner is still out there, hidden in the shadows of the city, causing trouble. The boys manage to track him down and end up in an enchanted mansion, where nothing is what it seems.
 The Case of the Ghostly Masquerade
 The Case of the Blurred Painting
 The Case of the 80s Deathday Party
 The Case of the Star-Crossed Lovers
 The Case of the Dark Void
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sundrop-writes · 1 year ago
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The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes
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Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
Summary:
While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other.
Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.
Word Count: 8,200
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
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.
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death---dealer · 7 months ago
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Girl when I tell you I absolutely NEED part 3 to Customary or I might die!! Omggg that yearning shit had me covering the smile on my mouth and licking my feet. 🤭 It’s too good! It’s too cute! You might actually be a wizard. I’m bowing down to you, slow-burn queen 🙌
My fingers.... They are burning.... with dESIRE.
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Title: Wounded Pride. Fandom: ( Kindgom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, blood, injury and mating. ) Words: 6K ( Someone stop me jk don't. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: You were ignoring each other, that much was clear. How long was it going to last? Noa felt like he was bursting at the seams and you felt like you had lost all sense of reasoning. ** Does Contain Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. **
READ THE SERIES HERE. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ “Noa!” That was a frantic tone and lured the Chimp to raise his head in question. His ears moved to focus on where it was coming from. Off to his left, maybe 10 or so meters away. Not too far if he needed to run. He made a barking sound in response. Hearing his name was not enough.  His vision caught a few things. Leaves tangling against the ruins of a past structure. Echo in nature, through and through and hideously ugly. Nothing like what Apes built he beamed with decent pride at that. His body swung at the sound of his name vibrating along the walls encapsulating him like a barren playground. His set of feet and hands were pressed into the ground now. He was braced, ready to take off. Respond, Noa’s mind felt like it was melting, waiting for his fellow friends to communicate. He traced his gaze right along the trees that were bursting through the sturdy concrete, determined to grow in such ludacris circumstances. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than he had felt in quite some time, at least since his encounter with Proximus Caesar.  “Noa! You need to come quick!” The fur along his spine pricked at that, standing on edge. A sensation not often felt with him. It screamed ‘danger ahead!’ His nerves yelled at him, muscles feeling tense. The voice was very much Soona’s, tangling with Anaya’s as they began yelling over each other. Well, it couldn’t have been that serious if they were both taking time to yell, some tanglement of arguing with each other hitting Noa’s ears as he finally picked his pace up to a gallop. Coming to what could only be described as a skirting stop, Noa’s hands and feet dug into the earth below him to stop him from tumbling over, making quite crazed eye contact with Soona and Anaya as his mind caught up with his body. Both unharmed, he sighed from relief at that. Anaya was breathing heavily - Nervous? Noa questioned silently and looked at Soona again, shoulders fraught. He stared at her, expecting an explanation without having to ask for one. She was quick to oblige but didn't bother with words. Merely stepping aside, her entire self bumped into Anaya’s and they both shuffled to the side on all fours looking between Noa and what was behind them in the long grass that grew without care. Noa came forward, keeping his senses on guard in case there was danger with what Soona and Anaya had found. His friends were fast to follow right behind him. Noa never had it in him to advise that he was just as scared as they were at times like this. He swallowed it down and did what he needed. Soona and Anaya needed him to be brave and that was often his gift to them. Their gift back? Their unwavering friendship and support through the years. Green eyes scaled the grassy area in front of him to observe before he got too close. Some blades were painted red. Noa hesitated briefly. It had to be blood, Noa roughly vocalized to Soona and Anaya to stand back, stay back. They did just that, stopping their movements as Noa bridged the gap of two feet between himself and the patch. 
“Still… Alive?” Soona asked quietly. Noa glanced back at her, watching as she dipped her head precariously. Anaya was standing close to her, holding onto her arm out of fear. Noa looked back at the grass, or rather, what was in it. Between the long entanglements of weeds and vines he could make out the striking notions of blood splatter. Fresh, it still looked wet. Swallowing back something that was resting in his throat, Noa stood. If there was danger, he needed to appear as large as he could. One of the many tactics a Chimpanzee had when faced with the unknown. The extra height he got going from all fours to bi-pedal was all he needed to see clearly what was in that busted patch of grass. ‘Echo!’ He signed at Anaya and Soona. 
‘Has to still be alive!’ Anaya was fast to respond to his best friend, his hands finding it a bit difficult to move so quickly. The next set of words were jumbled but Noa understood. It had made a sound when Soona and Anaya probed it, which prompted them to call Noa in return. 
‘What…’ Soona’s signing was slow compared to Anaya’s. She was always more thoughtful and Noa savored that in this moment, trying so hard to keep himself from going straight into panic. ‘What… do.. We do?’
‘Put out of misery.’ Anaya wasn’t joking. 
Noa held his hand up, fingers twisted into a hard fist. Soona and Anaya both fell deathly quiet. He was not about to mercy kill. What was in front of him would die on its own once the cold of the night came around. There was evident damage to their legs, close to the ankles, blood pooling there and trickling down the smooth nature of the skin into the dirt below. He made a fast sign to his friends telling them. He heard them both gasp under their breath as Noa made a move closer, crouching to get more detail, his hands and feet tangling in on themselves with the spaced movement of Noa’s broad body. Cut around the temple, hit by rock maybe, or fell on face, burns around wrists, most likely from being bound. Noa was making quick notes of what he was seeing. He looked right. Nothing. He looked to the left and noticed blood droplets and traced their trajectory mindfully. It was coming from the direction of the cave that kept the Eagle Clan secluded from other Apes in the area. That was all Noa needed to know. The Echo in front of him must have been hunted, nearly to the brink of death.  ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
‘How?’ Anaya signed at Noa, huffing deeply at his friend who was pacing, very distraught. The sounds from the Ape in front of him told Noa to stop moving and to focus, pay attention to the conversation at hand but it was apparent with the shoulder movements of aggravation that that was not going to happen. Noa was an obsessive creature, and Anaya knew that. Once he was locked and entranced by something, by any force of nature, Noa would tear it open and figure it out to satisfy his need to fix, his need to deduce. That’s what made him so good at tinkering, at resolving. It must have been a secretive thing Noa wanted to talk about this time around, eager to get Anaya alone. Stalking and biding his time almost all day to get his friend pinned for a conversation. Without Soona, without his mother. ‘Echo got offended?’ The signing of those words were accompanied by a funny face, Anaya very obviously curious how Noa had managed that one. Neither had heard of an Echo being offended, though, from the Elders of the Clan, they had always made the assumption that they were quick to anger. Maybe the same thing, Anaya bargained with Noa, but Noa felt this was different than simple anger and told his friend that sternly.
Noa had put everything incredibly broad, unsure of how to approach his closest confidant with what had happened between himself and you. Too many details would give away Noa’s primal intent. He gave the gist of it with words a few minutes ago, Anaya intently listening to Noa’s voice waver. Up and down, the placement of his tone unsure and full of self-loathing. He continued, explaining in part the conversation about the human custom of kissing, only the important details, followed by a very cliff-noted version of the hunting endeavor. Anaya must have sensed the urgency, choosing to sign rather than put more effort into it by speaking. Anyway, he justified it further by thinking that signing was more private. Less likely for someone to overhear, or well…. Oversee. Tilting his head to the side, Anaya felt a sigh roll from him as Noa finally stopped pacing, now choosing to sit rather defensively on his hands and feet. ‘How?’ Anaya repeated. 
‘I do not know.’ Shamefully, Noa dropped his hands after admitting that, his jaw clenching tightly for a moment as he grinded his teeth together. They clattered, his canines distracting his train of thought for a split second as he moved his tongue over them. ‘Echo just…’ Signs were not coming to him. Thoughts were not coming to him. Throwing his hands up in vivid frustration, Noa gave up and let a growl fall from his lips, snarling his lips for a second as it became a bit louder before tapering into a hum of sorts. Anaya blinked, hunching forward on all fours and drifted his way very slowly to sit by Noa. 
‘Why… you bothered?’
‘I do not know.’ He repeated this time. 
Anaya nodded, only looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. ‘Maybe… Apology?’ That was definitely an avenue that Noa had considered, in fact it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Chimps were good at apologies. Never with words, often they reached their hands out, palms up and waited for the party getting the concession to accept. It had a great acceptance rate, but Noa doubted you’d want that. Just throw an apology your way and see how it sticks! What could go wrong? You’d never talk to him again…  He grunted out a denial to Anaya at that prospect and turned his shoulders away. Defensive in nature. 
‘You… need tell Anaya…’ He tilted his head in hesitation, knowing what he was about to suggest would be a dangerous path, even though they were friends. “What Noa actually said.” There was confidence in his verbalization, stressing and driving home to Noa that it was a necessity to spill his guts for Anaya to properly gauge the situation and help. “Asked.. about mating.” Noa was fast to speak, hoping that maybe his voice was too weak for Anaya to understand. He underestimated it though and it came out sounding like a sour grape. “Asked if pleasured.” Noa turned his face towards Anaya, giving him a certain look that told him all he needed to know. He got his needed information and now he needed to process. And… It surely brought to light a lot of things. 
A lot. 
Anaya sat back on his butt, displaying a rather surprised expression. Noa didn't bother looking at him, already able to see the emotions on his friend's face just in his mind. That’s what they got for years of being around each other. Each minute move either face or body was known and read right away. 
“Stupid.” He told Noa honestly which resulted in a chortle from the Eagle Clan’s leader. It was the sound of agreement. “Echo like privacy. Stupid to ask. Not like us! Keep many secrets away from Noa, from all Apes.” There was intense scrutiny in Anaya’s voice. There was a reason why the Elders told stories, wary ones, about the Echo’s. About how they were and how they disregarded things that weren’t important to them. Selfish! Anaya chuffed, wanting to pull Noa in physically and beat him into submitting, giving Anaya all the answers he needed to deduce what Noa was already enthralled in. Instead though, he urged, “Why ask?”
Noa dropped his shoulders at the mild scolding and dipped his chin towards his body. He knew what Anaya was saying was right and there was no logical excuse anymore why he asked what he did or why he felt somehow entitled to an answer from you. ‘Curious.’ He didn't have it in him to speak.
Anaya wasn’t seething perse, instead, he was statically quiet which was even worse to Noa. Anaya was a chatterbox, even if it was about nothing of consequence. This… Was out of the norm and it made Noa incredibly uncomfortable. He began shifting his weight from one side to another, swaying out of mere anticipation of being scolded again. And if Anaya got too into it, Noa could just choose to gallop away. He didn't have to take it! He was the leader. He was… He was the Eagle Clan. 
“Stupid.” Anaya muttered again, picking himself up and moving. He couldn’t be next to Noa as he processed. 
“Told me they only mate out of survival, hardly… the other reasons..” Anaya’s mouth popped open. Noa got further into the conversation than he led his friend to believe. Previously, the assumption was made that you didn't respond and merely began ignoring him out of offense. 
Anaya exploded. “Echo not stupid, Noa is. Should have left it to die in the woods when found. Then, Noa wouldn’t be here telling Anaya stupid things!”
Noa lurched at that. Not at Anaya, but unquestionably at the implications of his words. At least, that was what Noa was going to tell himself later when the guilt set in that he drew his aggression at his best friend. The animalistic movement was taken the wrong way, made evident as Anaya billowed as Noa approached him, drawing into himself to appear smaller, more weak, more favorable. Raising his hand up, Noa was chaste to brush his fingertips against Anaya’s open palm. Apology. Simple and clean. Anaya submitted to his friend and watched as he turned, leaving the Chimp still as dumbfounded as before. Though, with a bit more insight. 
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You could smell dried blood but you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your heavy eyelids. Warmth was collapsing over you, wave after wave. Each one brought another one of your senses with it. There was a mild tingling in your right ear, prickling at your hearing as you tried to adjust it enough to figure out your surroundings. Last thing you remembered was stumbling… Hands pacing over a bricked wall in the dark, trying too hard to find a place where you didn't need to run for your life. Your hand pressing to your forehead, bloodied from a cut on the side near your temple, vision blurring in and out of focus. Your knees buckled from exhaustion, crashing onto grass that definitely appeared softer than it felt… It was hot for a second but then it was awfully cold, your body taking a plunge into an invisible ocean of sheer ice. Then, it all went black. Maybe, if you were lucky, you were dead. Whirling endlessly in limbo somewhere between the Earth and the Heavens, searching for the next place to go. Maybe you were asleep, dreaming up violent situations from your subconscious. After all, it did what it wanted to in your dreams; you had no control over that. Would you be aware if you were dreaming though? That idea spurred you to cross it off the list of possibilities. Hm… Or maybe you were dead, you repeated. Your eyes did not want to open. You were so warm… Another wave hit you all of a sudden and you became aware of the smothering sensation of animal fur against your back. Against your arms. Against your legs. Against your entire body. Voices without bodies were floating around you. They sounded human enough and that put you at some ease. You jumped the gun there. Thinking you had been caught by a bunch of ravenous Apes. Ha. Ha. Ha…
Jolting, you were abruptly conscious. 
Not conscious enough, you decided. Drawing a deep breath into your lungs to accommodate for the lack of air you got while passed out, you found your eyes peering into green ones directly above you. Not just regular green, you tilted your head and tried desperately to ignore the throb coming from your temple. Entrancing, grappling for dominance with flecks of outstanding gold against a canvas of darkened pupils. Oh yeah, you were dead. You were definitely looking into the eyes of God, you said sarcastically in your wounded trance and shut your eyes again. “Awake! Echo is awake!” You heard that clear as day and it did nothing to help the already soundless nature of the drumming in your head. It was followed up but a few soft hoots of acknowledgement which caused the hair on your arms to stick up in defense and your eyes to fly open without reserve. Ape. Ape. Ape. You counted them with wide eyes. Three. Maybe? Maybe more? You had a hard time telling as your eyes were adjusting back to some sort of normalcy after being drenched and flooded with blood. Wherever you were was not very bright save for a fire in the corner that drifted up what appeared to be wooden planks that were tilted inwards. No natural light came in and it beckoned your internal clock to assume that it was night time. You were in a structure of some type; that was easy to figure out regardless of lighting. With Apes. Not just Apes, you squinted and raised yourself on your forearms. Chimpanzees. Three sets of eyes, similarly colored to the ones you woke up peering into. You had no idea nor interest in knowing which one was observing you so closely. If you weren’t dead before, you may as well have been at that moment as you sprinted backwards, almost face first and staggered to your feet. Automatically, you were in a defensive position, trying to ignore the feeling of twisted pain in your ankles. Racing your hands everywhere, you tried to find something to grab. Something to defend yourself with. You needed to! There was nothing in the vicinity. You couldn’t even tell where the door was and your eyes were frantic to find some sort of escape. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, you turned and looked at the Apes again. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Your head was pounding and you felt like if you moved your feet anywhere, you were going to tumble. What did they want?
Your mind was flying at a faster speed than you were able to process any cognitive thought. Words were blaring in your ears without anyone yelling. Your group of fellow Humans were all hunted, their chanting still wild in your head. Apes were dangerous. Apes showed no compassion. They liked the kill, they liked the satisfaction. The deeply ingrained instinct to be afraid of them because you didn't understand them, the wild weaned fear of what they could do to you. What they were planning to do! Were they… Oh god, they were going to kill you and then skin you and then eat your insides--- you scrambled again, no regard for how you must have looked as you dropped to your knees, muttering under your breath as you flew around on all fours. You needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out. They were going to attack, they were moving!
Wait.
You paused, hunching on your hands and knees, feeble attempts made to catch your breath but you still found yourself panting like a wild animal. Mouth agape, you looked at the Apes in the room with you before letting your gaze fall down to their hands. Were they… Using sign language?Your back came into crushing contact with the wooden wall behind you, earning a tiny flinch from you as your right shoulder blade radiated. You must have been bruised there, you thought. Despite the grinding pain you were in, you tried to push further back as one of them, only slightly bigger in stature compared to the other two dropped to all fours, now eye level with you, and languidly moved towards you. First a hand, followed by a foot and then repeated until they were right in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat as they leaned in, deathly close to your face that you were able to smell them in your nostrils, mixing now with that previously noted taste of dried blood. Oh, they were going to rip your face off.
“Alive.” They said to you, taking a brash step back when you moved. No shit, you wanted to say but you couldn’t find your voice. Your eyes widened at the movement of them and the sound of their voice. Not aggressive or mean, but it was pensive and quiet. Observant, and you wondered if they were even talking to you or just verbally acknowledging to the other two Apes that you were, well… Alive. Whoever this Ape was… Was courageous enough to face you, to be near you but obviously held some reservations. There was absolutely no way they were just as afraid as you were. 
“Injured.” That was directed towards you, eye contact frantically being made when the smell of fresh blood became more abundantly noticed. Almost afraid to look down, you felt a small gush coming from your right calf. It slipped down the curve of your muscle, mixed with something… A paste of some sort that in itself, in your cloudy disposition, was rather fragrant if you focused on it. Something like a root, pulled and crushed from deep in the Earth. How did that… Get there? You looked at your injury, nothing more than a gash, deeper than it appeared though and it ached if you moved your foot in any awkward positions. “Wh…” Your voice came out ridiculously hoarse, hand reaching up to touch the outside of your throat. The Ape in front of you was watching it all. The inquest on your face, your fingers holding along your throat and focusing on your heart beat. How long have you been out? A day? Two? A week? Swallowing hard, you lubricated your vocal cords just enough to force out a question, “Wh-- What did you… do..t’me?” That was definitely slurred.
“Did nothing!” Another Ape finally spoke, their voice frantic and distraught.Not from nerves…. Right? You looked at them, then at the one adjacent, who was just a touch smaller than the other two, before your gaze fell on the one closest to you, wrought breathing causing your lungs to feel rather tight. Shifting, you tried to relax but found that it only brought discomfort. 
“Injured.” The one in front of you said again, this time with a bit more confidence. Whether it was true or faux, you had no idea but it was difficult to sort anything through your thought process at the moment. You were barely processing the fact that there was quite literally a hole in your calf let alone that an Ape was communicating with you so… Civilly. “Found in… ruins. Dying.” Your lips parted, suddenly becoming aware that you were thirsty. The severity of the words spoken hit you like a feathered ton of bricks. Softly at first, it was initially hazed by the idea that they were capable of saving you instead of killing you. Then, it sank in and it felt like your body was tied to a chair, someone banging on your chest over and over again to just drive the point home that all your preconceptions about these Apes might have been wrong. No! It couldn’t have been wrong! You lived your entire life afraid of them, being told from your childhood to be afraid and to always run away. It was only solidified when each of those Humans you were around were hunted, killed and their bodies dragged around in a triumphant show-boat by a group of Apes on the back of their horses. Squeezing your eyes shut at that visual, often the cause of nightmares for you, you shook your head vehemently. There was no way. 
“We…” They continued on, “saved.” There was a gesture towards the two Apes across the room. “Brought Echo back here… Spear head in leg,” Huh, that explained that, you bargained for some sort of reality. “Took out, stopped bleeding then…” They came to a slow stop and signed something over at the other two. You had no idea what they were saying now. Sign language was not your forte. Maybe, if you could push aside the vibration in your head, you’d be able to read them from body language but that was thrown out the window when you opened your eyes, tears forming at the edges and ultimately blurring your vision. 
“Echo then wake up.”
You snapped, “Wha… What the hell is an Echo?”One of the two behind lurched ever so slightly at the apparent aggression you put into your words, but the one crouched in front of you put a hand up to tell them to stop. 
It gestured at you. 
You rolled your eyes. That must have been their name for Humans. Each clan called them something different, you had figured that out over the years. Instead of having individual names, the human race was deduced down to a word such as ‘Echo’ or ‘Nova’, which you had heard in passing, speckled usually in more secluded clans and only talked about in detail when you were around the fire late at night with other humans. It was lore, it was ghost stories. It was reality now. “I--- Have a name…” You whispered. “(Name).” Hm… With a tilted head to the side, a response came. “Noa.” Finally giving you a bit more clarity. He pointed at the two Apes behind him accordingly, “That Soona,” She looked at you, terrified obviously, but seemingly confident in her friend's ability to talk to you. “Anaya.” Even more terrified, and not as obviously convinced in this Noa Ape to be as outrageously courageous as he was appearing.
“Are…” You quivered in on yourself and looked at him. A string of tears hit your cheeks, hurting at your temple even more than before and profusely lit the flame that caused the beating in your head to intensify rapidly. “Are you going to kill me?” Noa looked at you, draping you in some sort of melancholic state as you realized just how… human his eyes were. How they observed every morsel of your face, taking in the details and probably thinking just how hideous you were compared to Apes. How he’d scrutinize your scent, your well being, your entire self. But, he said nothing, gaze flickering between your eyes before he moved attention to your calf again. You followed suit. It looked worse than it felt, at least you had that. If he were going to kill you, wouldn’t he have already done it? There was a fleeing moment where he felt offended at your accusation, feeling the same coming from Soona and Anaya - primarily the latter. But, he had to remind himself, you were Echo. You did not know any other ways.
“Not all Apes are that way. We do not kill… Echo’s here.” You stiffened watching as he drew himself onto his hands and feet again from his default crouching stance. That was a complete and full sentence. You tried to not bark at him with confusion, not impressed by any means… Well… No! Not impressed. You knew they could talk. It was well---You knew… they could… Your eyes blurred and you felt your head fall to the side before you urged yourself into a more aware state. It lasted only moments before you lulled into an awkward dance with unconsciousness and invested fear. Coldness rocketed right through your leg at the application of more of the root smelling paste to your wound. It didn't sting perse, instead, it felt numbing. Were you so out of it that you didn't see Noa grabbing what appeared to be a clay jar of sorts? Fingers pushing into it and then smearing its contents on your body? You so desperately wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, putting on you but you were shot with another wave of black. You passed out. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
Almost sickly aware of the pair of green eyes on you at all times, intricately staring at your movements down to the minute shift of your shoulders as you breathed, you did everything you could to ignore them. Your hands were busy; helping Soona untangle some twine that had gotten itself into a mess of very intricate knots. She had praised you for your help, explaining that ‘Echo hand… smaller than Ape..’ It was a simple and gentle compliment from her, you being grateful to be of some use to someone else in the Clan and not just Noa. With your hands working, your mind fell into a leisurely state as you tried so desperately to convince yourself that Noa wasn’t foolish enough to pull you away from a social situation with Soona. It would seem suspicious and ultimately, Soona would tell Anaya who would then in turn absolutely panic and tell Noa to back off, leave you be and that the only purpose you served here was to please Noa’s curiosity about the Teachings of Caesar. Thinking those things did nothing to help you feel calm. In fact, it was very much the opposite. Your mind did not stop at that though, enticing you to look up. You swept the entire village with your gaze. He had to be there somewhere, he rarely chose to drift off by himself without either of his friends, or even you on occasions but that was only when you served a purpose to him, you convinced yourself that at the moment the agreement was made that you would help Noa understand about human culture. You were still actively trying to convince yourself of that after the last two conversations that abhorrently played in your head in excruciating detail. The absolute devastation on his face when he realized that he had asked you the wrong thing and your petty response was the top of the list for your mental replays. It was your pettiness and inability to say anything positive in response to him that got you the most worked up despite your answer to him being that of pure truth. Humans didn't mate, in Noa’s words, for pleasure. They mated for survival. Setting your twine down now that it was a straight line, you looked over your shoulder once more before glancing down to pick up another knotted piece to work on. Well… What were you supposed to tell him? Looking at it now in a less offended state, you should have just told him that you didn't want to answer. There were a few times in the past that Noa attempted to push a question on you, soon coming to embrace acceptance that you weren’t willing to give him any response and he’d drop it. The two of you never fought about it, never went days upon days without talking or seeing each about them. Were you even fighting? Tilting your head, you shuffled on the ground and spread your legs out instead of sitting cross-legged like you had been for at least the last half hour. Then you began bargaining. He had asked you before if you had mated. If you had someone before you found your way to the Eagle Clan. You never answered him, even then. It was left alone for a long time, Noa not wanting to pry into obviously human privacy. So he was consciously aware of the status of the question he begged you to answer only a few days ago.  You fixated on the way he had signed that word. Pleasure. It was a slow signing, his two hands in front of his chest with a perpendicular circular motion. It was a flurry of intensity. The question. Your chaste answer. Noa falling silent next to you, no doubt self-reflecting at the idiocy of the question. And then… Oh… You had the absolute torture of being silent for the rest of the hunting trip. Noa ignored you, you could sense the coldness coming off of him in waves due to his inner thoughts taking over. You wanted nothing more than to ask him when he inquired about pleasure. How he even knew that it was a pleasurable experience for a human. Was it for Apes? Chimpanzees? You had no idea, choosing to linger in your ignorance and figure that it was not an element to their mating standards.
Huffing, you sat your twine back down and told Soona in a soft tone of voice as to not alarm her, “I need to go pee.” She let you go with silence, figuring your rather fast pace was due to really needing to relieve yourself.
A quick excuse to get you on your legs, pacing towards the right and through the entire embankment of the village to the very edge. Kicking a rock under your foot as you approached the small creek, the very sight of the first incident with Noa, you felt like doing nothing more than grabbing your hair and screaming to the high heavens. What was wrong with you!? Now you were the foolish one, asking questions that shouldn’t need to be asked, that didn't need an answer because what fruit would come from knowing if Apes mated at all for pleasure?
Coming around the small creek embankment, your fast feet came to an almost stumbling stop. Your mind didn't process as quickly as you halted harder than anticipated and almost felt yourself go face first into the shallow water in front of you from the sheer momentum you had. A set of broad shoulders, lined delicately with thinning fur in preparation for the summer, were facing you. Sun peeked across the west as it began its gentle descent into night, flushing the sky now with a light hue of pink and orange. Ah yes… That oh so familiar body in front of you, hand dipped in water in quite solace was none other than the Chimp you were ignored by for days. Well, not just ignored by. You did your fair share of skipping around the stone to not run into him.
Tightly wrapping your fingers into fists at your side, you contemplated going back. It appeared he hadn’t heard you, hadn’t sensed you coming or at the very least, you weren’t worth turning around or acknowledging. Your heart sank at that thought. You were just another tool he used to get his way into fixing a problem that wasn’t his to fix. He… Looked so small… You brought your bottom lip in and chewed it out of deliberation, eyes scaping up his back, broad by nature, but from his posture now, it was brought in on itself and he looked reminiscent of a little kid who had just gotten into big trouble. Maybe, you muttered inside of your own head and trailed your way towards him. You were still contemplating if you wanted to talk to him, but the very least you could do was to appear next to him and give the chance.
‘Know you are there.’ There went your element of surprise as Noa brought his hand back in and rested it against his chest in a coiled position. He wasn’t just crouching, he was holding himself.
“I---” You stumbled backwards, feet shifting to move your weight but your mind was telling you not to run. To confront. You didn't want to! You wanted to leave it alone, you didn't want to… To… Have to see his face. “I’m sorry, I didn't know you’d be up here, I just needed to---”
“Think.”
Swallowing softly, you planted yourself behind him, only a few feet and looked at the water that was so enviously caressing his hand. Looking down at your own palm, you felt it tingle with want… You wanted to be that water and freely float yourself against him in some bid to calm, ease… Love… “Yeah…” That was spit from your mouth so softly, almost afraid that Noa wouldn’t be able to hear. He didn't turn to face you so you figured that he did in fact hear and was either waiting for silence to fall over the two of you again or for you to say something else. He waited.
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( Sorry if tumblr is a jerk and doesn't tag properly. It does that sometimes I've noticed. )
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kai7kh · 2 months ago
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Some more nine sols doodles
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(spoilers & body horror tw below)
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This game is so new i couldn't find a reference for drawing mutants ,, cant wait until nine sols fandom grow more in Tumblr..
If hollow knight & rain world are your favorite games, there's a high chance you might like nine sols as well
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tales-from-elysivm · 9 months ago
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Can you do some headcanons or stories on arcane? Specifically Vi or Sevika if your comfortable. I was just wondering but if you don't want to then you don't have to, you have free will.
Know that you're loved!
★。/ !bark like you want it! \。★
pairing: vi x f!reader, sevika x f!reader (separate)
fandom: arcane
word count: 1,470
tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, and MDNI content, mainly because we know these are some dominant ass women ;) 
THIS IS NSFW CONTENT! BE WARNED!
song title: bark like you want it by sir mix-a-lot
notes: i love my girl vi so this request was a given, thank you anon! Hope you enjoy! :D I normally didn't like Sevika as much, but I will admit, writing her head canons for this post definitely made me reconsider
! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !
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↳˗ˏviˎ˗ ↴
Vi is (without a doubt) very rough around the edges
She’s street-smart but she doesn’t really know what to do when it comes to actual romantic relationships, sex is easy, feelings are hard 
Her time in Stillwater makes her distrustful of people, along with her generally traumatic and difficult childhood, so it will probably take a while for her to begin to see you in a less-than-threat way
After that things are pretty smooth
You don’t really know where the split between ‘friendship’ and ‘relationship’ is, because they both include her joking, flirtatious personality ranging from skirting touches on your thighs and up your back, or teasing pet names like ‘sweetheart’, ‘cupcake’ and ‘love’
Other than that she’s very protective of you, especially if you live in Zaun
If you go out on errands she’ll always make sure she’s conveniently there at the times you like to go, able to loop an arm around your waist and guide you through the crowds
If someone is stupid enough to try and pull something on either one of you, Vi is not above beating the shit out of someone to keep them from laying a hand on you
I have a feeling that she’d confess to you accidentally in the middle of a fight
Perhaps she had been disappearing for long periods of time, and coming back bloodied and injured, refusing to tell you anything of her adventures (mainly because she doesn’t want to worry you). And eventually you pester her for a bit too long and begin a full verbal fight, where she suddenly blurts that she loves you
Now as a lover?
The teasing banter still remains, her little playful nicknames too, if anything they get worse. But she gets more confident with her touches, more deliberate. A hand in your backpocket while you’re walking, an arm around your shoulder, pinching your ass when you’re waiting outside a store, this girl has no shame
! mdni content below !
Now, i have a feeling that Vi isn’t really uneducated when it comes to sex
If anything i feel like she’s a fast learner-
The first time you actually lie together, Vi is sure to take it at your own pace, eager to please beneath a taunting smile, even if you don’t know what you like at first, she’s likely to find it quickly 
I personally don’t see Vi as owning too many sex toys - if any at all - but i think she would 100% favour using her fingers to anything else
Just the way you clench down on them, how she can use the rough calluses on the pad of her thumb on your clit to her advantage, and how deep she can pry, anything to make you scream for her
To be honest? I also 10000% expect her to try and flip you over and put you in a chokehold with her forearm tight against your throat, just adding enough delicious pressure to hitch your breath, but never enough to hurt too much
9/10
Her oral game would be fucking good too, i can tell. But she’d probably prefer to finger you or use a strap-on so she can continue to tease you with all these sinful little things she can come up with while she fucks into you
I’d say more of a biter, but she can still eat you out like a starving woman
Oral game 7/10
Aftercare is important to her, always making sure that she wasn’t too rough with you, cleaning you up, running you a bath or just lying with you to cuddle. Wants to make sure you know that you’re more important to her than some casual fling, and that she wants to ensure your happiness above anything
(Also gives you some balm for the definite bruises on your thighs and throat :D)
↳˗ˏsevikaˎ˗ ↴
Sevika is… intense
In all honesty, probably started as enemies
She probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you unless you already worked with Silco, so we could say you started in the shimmer warehouses, helping to distribute it throughout Zaun
You get your work done effectively, so Sevika overall sees you as a valuable position in the business, and keeps you around without much complaint
At some point Silco requested you deliver a hefty batch of shimmer to a more dangerous part of the Undercity, and sent Sevika with you to ensure no messes were left behind
Safe to say, you were ambushed
Despite Sevika being there to ‘protect’ you, you’re still able to hold your own, displaying proficient skill with your weapons against bandits who thought they could steal some of the shimmer vials. In the carnage, Sevika decides begrudgingly that she has respect for you
From there, it’s less of a ‘friendship’ and more of a drinking buddy situation
She doesn’t often tolerate the presence of others in her private time, so you label it as a friendship initially
She’s slightly more soft-spoken when she’s alone with you, and shares her cigars with you while she’s gambling, which often earns a strange look from her opponents as you hover over her mechanical shoulder with her cigar hanging from between your lips to see her hand, a bit too close
But Sevika lets you be without anything more than a bit of a grumble
I don’t think she’d even particularly say outright that she loves you
What happens is - instead - that you both have a drinking binge at the pub one night, after a successful night of gambling, and you both get absolutely shit-faced
While drunk she drags you back to her house and the night is filled with hazy sex, enthusiastic makeouts and early-morning cigarette smoke
You try to sneak out the next morning, expecting it to only be a one-night thing
She catches you (i headcanon that she’s a pretty light sleeper, but i suppose that could be said for most Zaunites). I don’t think she’d even say it then, just drag your ass back to bed for a (consensual) round two
After that you go to the bar together as normal, go about your business, now with the added bonus of Sevika protectively snarling at a drunk guy hitting on you by saying ‘that’s my spouse, fuck off’
(And of course, with plenty of sneaky sex between your deliveries and hurried makeouts :D)
! mdni content below !
BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS MFS, THIS SHIT IS KINKY
I would like to clarify, you will never top in this situation, Sevika would rather die than bottom to anyone, no matter how much she loves you
Spanking, spanking, spanking, spanking–
Hickeys, bruises, bite marks, the red tracks of her nails over your back, just anything that would leave even the most fleeting mark on your skin
That being said, would also 100% leave hickeys on places she knows you can’t hide easily
Definitely into sex toys (ball gags, bondage, strap ons and vibrators with little remotes she can keep in her pocket just in case, she especially likes to plant down one of those dildos with the suction cups and get you to ride it, all the while begging for her to just touch you, but she refuses, smoking as she watches you cry out for her)
She also likes crying-
I think she’d prefer to have you from behind, your back against her chest, ramming into you with one of her favourite straps, one hand pinching at your nipples, tweaking them between her fingers, and the other rolling tight circles on your clit, sometimes switching one out to wrap around the column of your throat
Definitely into edging on most days, and will resort to overstim if she’s happy with the work you’ve done in the day
Risky sex is definitely her thing, in her office in Silco’s base, in the warehouse on the crates of shimmer, under her desk, you on your knees to service her
She’s especially rough, and absolutely loves some degradation, and the way it makes you clench around her strap or her fingers, your eyes rolling back into your head while you scream for her
Aftercare is rarely over-the-top
She’ll cuddle you if you ask her explicitly but she prefers to share a cigar with you, or blowing smoke into your open mouth while you breathe against her bare chest
If she’s been unable to fuck you for some time, she’ll clean you up after about four or five rounds, mainly by eating you out until you end up giving her another two, but she’ll make sure you’re clean before you pass out anyway
Despite everything, Sevika will always make sure she doesn’t go to far
If anyone asks though, she will absolutely deny how she always makes sure you remember your safeword before you have sex after a makeout
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thanks for the request anon!
if you have any more requests don't hesitate to ask :)
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ponds-of-ink · 5 months ago
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Potential Into The Pit spoilers below, as this is unconfirmed atm,
but
uh
(Clearing throat in order to prepare for the onslaught of caps lock)
WHAT DO Y’ALL MEAN WILLIAM AND HENRY CAMEO IN THIS GAME??
WHAT DI
HOW—
HOW DO YOU GET A PHOTO OF THE CAMERA-SHY VILLAIN CLOWN AND THE MOST LONER ENGINEER IN THE ANIMATRONIC WORLD??
IS IT EVEN A PHOTO??
CALL ME J. JAMERSON POND, ‘CAUSE I WANT PICTURES OF PROOF.
..OK, I’m gonna go to bed now.
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