#lurker in light

[dailycharacteroption]

Junk Technomancy Technomancer (Technomancer Alternate Class Feature)

(art by David Bonilla on Artstation)

Perhaps one of my very, very favorite things about the Starfinder technomancer class and their spells is how well they integrated technology and magic together, (in the spells at least, the magical hacks are kinda hit and miss for me) and nowhere else is this clearer than in the “junk” spells. Junk spells include those that either transmute nearby junk into a form usable by the mage, conjure junk usable for the former as their primary function or as a side effect, or that utilize already transmuted junk in a new way.

It began in the core book with the various junkbot spells, which were a stand-in for summoning until they perfected that with Alien Archive, but as more books came out, we got junk armor, junk swords, barricades, grenades, extradimensional shelters, and even the ability to detonate junk or transmuted creations!

It only makes sense, then, that there would be technomancers that specialize in these sorts of spells. They might be self-taught mystical tinkerers using the most readily available resource they know of in low-income neighborhoods, or they might be enthusiasts that see the ruined beauty and functionality in what others deem worthless.

Regardless of where they come from or how they feel about these things, only a fool would underestimate a junk technomancer just because their arsenal is all secondhand. It may not look pretty or be as sturdy, but they can squeeze surprising amounts of power out of what others cast off.

In exchange for having a cache and cache capacitor, these techno-mages specialize in junk spells, learning junk armor and junksword immediately in addition to their normal spell allotment, as well as upgrading to higher level versions of junksword as they gain levels (the text suggests that junk armor upgrades as well, but that spell doesn’t have variable level. It’s just a first level spell. A mistake on the author’s part?) Additionally, they can cast either one of these spells once a day without expending any energy.

Their junk spells also prove just a little bit better, their armor becoming tougher, and their transmuted creations lasting longer.

Given their focus on cobbling together contraptions than programming, they also focus on engineering rather than computers.

Finally, they improve their junksword and junk armor to allow for upgrades, their armor gaining an armor slot which they can install an upgrade into, and their junkswords able to incorporate a fusion seal the technomancer has on hand into their design.

The junk spells of a technomancer are versatile, ranging from defense to attack to utility, but they all require scrap electronics to work, which is why spells that conjure junk, be it the junk shards attack spell or the fabricate junk cantrip are very important for when you venture beyond junkyards, broken-down slums, or easily-smashable tech labs. That being said, you also still have all your other spell slots to diversify for those times when junk is not available and conjuring some would waste precious seconds. In any case, the focus on junksword and junk armor does mean the build expects you to be at least partially a melee build, so your spell and feat selection could probably do with options that tilt melee combat in your favor, such as debuffs and battlefield control options, to say nothing of enhancing your own combat prowess.

The versatility of junk spells cannot be denied, but one must also remember that no only are these creations temporary, but they render the junk used in them inert to any more castings of the spell, valuable only for their use as scrap. As such, I imagine that many of these technomancers also enjoy making longer-lasting creations as well, possibly from the junk they’ve spent on previous castings of their magic, incorporating components harmlessly into the whole of a project.

Strange attacks have been happening in the upper city, with people being slain by beams of light from invisible foes. The culprits are a group of lurkers-in-light, led by a lightweaver. However, confronting the fey in the upper city will be nearly impossible without first causing a blackout. The simpler option would be to track them to their dark undercity lair, home to junkers of all descriptions.

Most would consider Visak’s Folly, a debris field of derelict ships left over from the last great war, to be a poor place to forge a community, but for the xulgaths that dwell there, it is a golden opportunity. So much salvage to recover and sell. Many of them take up technomancy as well, turning the scrap that surrounds them into tools and weapons, the latter especially one those that attempt to muscle in on their claim.

It wasn’t the plentiful resources or the verdant wildlife that attracted Polgan to the colony world of Pillar, it was the ancient superstructure that gave the planet its name. Attempts to explore or survey it have been met with disaster before, but the young technomancer is certain that with his junk magic and know-how he can make the attempt alone and self-sufficiently. Such is the foolishness of youth.

[just-a-gl1tch]

I drew Moon for the first time for my lil cousin since he is a BIG moon fan & honestly I am one too, so why not! I hope it looks okay :>

[falllenstarr]

first day of my fast and god tested me. my mother woke up and decided to make my favorite breakfast and dinner. proud of myself for saying no tho, keeping my cals in the negative <3

[bendwill]

✎ 'do ur worst old man' - asgeirr

𝙳𝙾𝚅𝙰𝙷𝚉𝚄𝙻 𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂.

“Lokiin. Skaam. Yunkliin. Sot serk. Skoboviik. Pahdul. Malfil. Sos-zeymah. Kostim. Nahkropiik. Med-zeymah. Kliifkozvrii. Kun vokun. Hefhah. Klovhod. Silliin, vogluuskei.”

[pandoratelenor]

You can SWITCH the lightning in da:v character creator

Praised be the maker!

[0turnthelightsout0]

group chats are like a game of group jump rope

.....and I don't know how to jump in

[13eyond13]

Sometimes I think about the time somebody sent me an anon saying they checked out Death Note because they were following my blog and because I liked it so much, and I was like hey that's amazing and I'm so glad, but also I was flabbergasted somebody would be following this blog without having ever seen or read Death Note before? This blog has always been a Death Note blog, so there was never any big switching over of fandoms here. Are there other followers like that anon out there? If so can you tell me how you found this blog in the first place, and why you would follow a blog for a series you didn't watch or read? Not because I'm judging, but because I'm legitimately curious!

[davnittbraes]

Chapter 29 has been up for an hour let’s goooooo

[doomduck]

I can't hear 'blinding lights' with out thinking about yuzuru skating to it...

[brandwhorestarscream]

Wow, the xenomorph looks amazing!

Shame we never actually get to SEE IT 😩

ALIEN: ROMULUS behind the scenes •

[anonloveshim]

intro hi im maxx! he/him + 17 bi nd trans stats gw: 110lbs/50kg ugw: 105lbs/47kg cw: 131 lw: 116 hey, im maxx! im a furry and i love way too many things. i listen to kpop, metal, rnb, breakcore, i js listen to too much music lolz. i have mdd (major depressive disorder) and im getting help for bpd and psychotic traits :) im also ana-b/p and ive been $H free for about 6-7 months (definately changing soon) :D i like to sm0k3 nic nd carts and i have a pet cat named romeo.

[candlemouse]

Questions for Heir to Light! Since you're done with the writing/over half way done posting, I'm curious to know: What's been your favorite chapter/scene of the fic? Is there anything major about the plot that you've changed over the course of planning the story out? I love hearing about the writing process and what people decide to edit out, so it'd be cool to see your take.

Oh my god! Yes! This will be super long. Thank you for asking!

My favorite chapter is hard to pick but I really love the two chapters where Kendra and Garreth first go on a date. (It was first written as one chapter and split for posting) It was the first time we really got to see Garreth’s character and how they worked off each other which was really exciting.

I also like the two chapters of from Seth’s POV of the battle in the Terrabellian courtroom. Seth is so fun because he loves adventure and is more flippant about things, whereas Kendra is waxing poetic about descriptions and stuff like that so the contrast is fun.

The chapter with Kendra's magic reveal is also a favorite because the fic was quite literally born from the thought of that moment.

I also love this most recent chapter where Kendra and Ronodin meet because that was so fun to write. I also really like this Kendra chapter that will post soon that further develops her relationship with Garreth…and I have also really enjoyed writing the second-to-last chapter but no spoilers!

Now, did anything change? 100% yes! So much! I have a document that just holds cut scenes (usually cut because it changes). Sometimes, though it works back in in a different chapter at a different point in the plot. As for major things…

This was literally a Merlin AU when I had first written the first two chapters. I literally forgot that was the original idea until I thought about your question. I think there's a few fossils that might show that, because I think I mentioned the old religion a few times.

Eve and Seth originally were going to have a romantic relationship. But, that changed pretty early on as I just didn’t see it anymore and I only wanted to focus on one romance.

Originally, Eve had Calvin hidden instead of Raxtus. But, when I was like, how are we going to get out of Terrabelle? It made much more sense to have Raxtus.

The whole battle getting out of Terrabelle was supposed to be the climax and everything end. This changed once I sat down with each of my conflicts and realized that wasn’t going to cut it. Also, Ronodin was going to be there!

Originally, Garreth was going to suffer a fatal injury and Kendra would heal him, thus revealing her magic for the first time. (This was super hard to cut but arcs just shifted by that point!)

Also, it was just going to be Seth and Kendra POV alternating. But, then, I really felt we needed to see it from Garreth and Eve. Also sometimes it helps for the narrator to be unfamiliar with what’s happening…so there’s actually one more Garreth chapter coming!

Another major thing is that Garreth and Kendra’s romance also completely just died. Like, 20,000 words of we are never ever ever getting back together. And it had a much darker tone than usual. This was of course affected by my own break up and I could finally write correctly again after I got over that. Big LOL!

Originally, Lena and Tanu also accompanied the group to Terrabelle. But, it was too big of a cast so I cut them out.

Major things changed a lot because the outline I originally made three years ago had only the most, most important things (which generally stayed the same). The beginning of every major arc so like chapter 1, 9, or 16, was when I usually figured out the nitty-gritty for the eight or so chapters. But, that meant that sometimes stuff I had already written didn’t line up with the trajectory anymore so it had to be cut…because I write out of order a lot.

Thank you so much for your questions! I know this was super long lol, but I had a lot fun thinking about the answers. <3333

[hunnieknight]

Light Lurkers (Art)

Moths and lepidopterist reader stuff, random arts.

A/N: These characters has no coorelation to one another, i just draw JY then just decided to draw random cgaracters as moth

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Art that started this:

[reidrum]

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face. 

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit. 

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.” 

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection. 

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks.  He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact. 

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain. 

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?” 

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other. 

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.” 

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side. 

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it. 

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

[mesanthropi]

SIREN JEONGHAN ENJOYERS WHERE ARE YOU??? I HAVE A FUCKING DEFENSE AND YOU SHOULD JOIN US BECAUSE OF THE FOLLOWING REASONS:

(but wait! there's more! i just couldn't physically bring myself to write it!)

iii. PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAASE

let's have jeonghan be happy here. he can see the rest of the sea, and maybe he and [name] could go see past the waters. see the surface. there are so many possibilities that could be seen for this fic! we'll never know if they like him back! how exactly they first met besides him just. seeing them out of nowhere, what lead them to doing this whole thing? how often has shua had to cover for han? what if they get caught, and they have to separate? or what if they allow the freedom because god damn, we need better fucking father figures in fanfiction?

don't you wanna see what happens ???? and i love the other fics i PROMISE i do, i'm just. so down horrendous for siren!hannie. especially prince siren yoon jeonghan who absolutely must see the rest of the he world and its beauty, no matter what restricts him. because he's yoon jeonghan, he can get himself out of there, he just needs the right motivation! and that motivation is YOU. AS A READER AND AS A SELKIE WHO INFODUMPS TO HIM ABOUT MARINE LIFE. YOUR VOTE = HIS HAPPY ENDING. NO DAMSELS IN DISTRESS HERE, JUST SIREN PRINCE. NEBER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT 🗣️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

for reference:

mingyu fic | jeonghan fic (1) | jeonghan fic (2) | junhui fic

++ pls reblog for greater visibility!

[inkcurlsandknives]

Hi Tumblr I'm an Asian fantasy author fleeing the sudden death of all my other social media sites 👋 I've used Tumblr for years as a fandom lurker and rarely posted but in light of all my other communities imploding I guess I'll have to figure out how to be actually active on Tumblr and find bookish and writerly folks here 💜 say hi if that's you 🥺

If you love diverse filipino fantasy with bipoc leads, angry bi women clawing for space in a world that's always rejected them and soft boys who'd do anything for them, awesome elemental magic based on early Filipino shaman/ babaylan/katalonan mythologies and the Tagalog creation story, and the Bakunawa/Laho the 🇵🇭 sea dragon 🐉 and drowning colonizers then I hope you'll keep an eye out for SAINTS OF STORM AND SORROW coming in June 2024 from Titan Books