#might make this multi-chaptered

[lukiechino]

Cardinal Broach

Spencer Reid x Reader

An unfinished wip I might continue if I get the inspiration back. Kinda based on the S13 E19, Ex Parte.

“Which color tells my mom I’m super-uber excited and not dreading having lunch with her?” I asked Spencer, showing him two outfits; one was a floral shirt paired with dark green pants and the other was a yellow and orange stripped pants with a white blouse. “Or should I go with my formal suit that I got for my friend’s wedding?”

Spencer locked up from his book on Edgar Allen Poe to examine the outfits with squinted eyes. “Well, if you want to appear excited, it’d be better to wear saturated, bright colors, since the brain’s pituitary and pineal glands are stimulated by light and that regulates more serotonin,” he said, knocking out the floral outfit. “But yellow can cause anxiety and shorts the temper of those looking at it.” So the other outfit was a no-go too.

“So the wedding suit?” I asked, tossing the outfits on a chair while I sat sown beside him with a sigh. “Getting ready to have lunch with my mom shouldn’t be this hard.”

“The wedding suit might make it appear you’re not being open or comfortable with your mom,” Spencer said. I groaned, before grabbing his arm and tugging him to the bedroom.

“C’mon, help me pick an outfit, Mr. Profiler.” Spencer put his book aside with a chuckle and let me pull him to my closet—stuffed full of bright patterned shirts and dresses.

“To start; what color should I wear?” I asked, sitting him down on the edge of the bed, in front of the closet.

“Orange or a bright teal would be good since Orange is the middle ground between yellow—which is a cheerful color—and red—which is an attentive color,” Spencer said. I grabbed a sleek button-up with orange flowers, a loose pastel orange top, a striped orange shirt, then a striking orange blazer.

“But it shouldn’t be overly formal or else you might be perceived as arrogant or dispassionate.” I threw out the floral shirt. “But it shouldn’t be too casual or she might think you didn’t put any thought into the outfit.” Then I threw out the pastel top.

“And,” I said before he could say anything else. “The resteurant we’re going is super duper fancy, and fancy places always have the air conditioning cranked to the max.” I said, tossing the thin striped shirt—I wasn’t about to bother finding the perfect coat for the shirt.

I hung the blazer on my doorknob, turning to my dresser. “Now I just gotta find a shirt and pants—do you think a white button-up and some brown pants will be okay?” I didn’t wait for Spencer’s response as I dug through my drawers.

“I think your mom will just be satisfied with you showing up,” Spencer said, taking the white shirt from me and pulling it over the ironing board.

“Thank you,” I said as pulled my legs through the tight brown pants on the edge of the bed. Spencer hummed as he ironed the shirt—leaving it as smooth as if it just came from the dry cleaners. “What jewelry should I go with?” I asked as I buttoned up my shirt.

Spencer, who sat on the edge with his book, pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Didn’t your mom give you a gold cardinal brooch?”

“That’s perfect!” I gasped, hurrying to one of my jewelry boxes stuffed into my nightstand. “Then I can wear my gold hanging earrings…” I hurriedly clipped on all my jewelry and grabbed my purse.

“Love you,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to Spencer’s cheek. “And thank you so much.”

“Be careful,” Spencer said, a small smile on his face as I left the room. I looked back at him smile. Even though he never said it, I liked to assume “be careful” was just his way of saying “I love you”.

“Stay safe at work, and call me if you got an away case, please,” I said, not wanting a repeat last week, where I came back to an empty home only to find out Spencer was all the way in California.

“I will,” he assured, sparing me one last smile before I left the apartment.

The resturant, as I predicted, felt as cold as a Alaskan winter night. I pulled my blazer closer to me as I wove through cloth table scattered about the dimly lit dining room until I found my mom sitting at a booth against the wall.

She was squinting at the drinks menu when she saw me and gasped. Mom stood up and hurriedly brought me into a bone crushing hug. “I missed you so so much, sweetie,” my mom whispered in my ear while her arms wrapped around me tightly. “Oh how have you been?”

“Good,” I said, awkwardly scooting into the booth. “Um, how’re you? And dad? And…” I wanted to avoid bringing up the topic of my brother so soon. “…everyone else?”

“Me and your dad are doing great. He’s still thriving in retirement, even picked up growing his own tomatoes,” Mom said. I scrunched up my face at the mention of the disgusting fruit. “Oh trust me, I know,” she chuckled.

A waiter strode over, smiling politely at me and Mom. “Hello, my name is Issac. Can I get you two lovely ladies started off with something to drink?” He asked, his attention immediately turning to me. My mom threw me a look that I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at.

“I’ll have water with lemon,” my mom said.

“Diet Dr. Pepper for me.” The waiter nodded curtly as he scribbled down our orders, gracefully walking off. My mom grinned at me and I sighed. “What?” I whispered.

“He’s cute,” my mom said, wiggling her eye brows. I rolled my eyes, leaning back. In her defense, she didn’t know I was dating anyone. But still, her desperation for me to find someone to get married to would always be uncomfortable.

“He is,” I said, trying to change the subject quickly. “What are you planning on getting?” I looked over the menu stuffed full of expensive Italian dishes, going down a list of pastas.

“Oh I don’t know, I might just go the basic route of spaghetti and meatballs,” Mom hummed. “What about you?”

“I might get this tortellini plate,” I said. “But switch the cheese ones with mushroom ones.” Mom pursed her lips, squinting at the menu.

“Now I don’t know what to get…it all sounds so good…”

I smiled, before Issac came over and slid our drinks in front of us alongside a small basket of lightly salted breadsticks. I took a deep breath, savoring the warmth and the fresh salty smell of the bread.

“You two ready to order?” Issac asked, pulling his miniature notepad out his apron. I looked at my mom, who just gestured for me to go first while she continued to look over the menu.

“Well, I’ll have the Tortellini plate,” I said, smiling up at Issac. “But can you swap out the cheese Tortellini with the mushroom ones?”

“Of course,” he answered, turning to my mom. “And you, ma’am?” My mom gave the menu one last look over before nodding.

“I’ll have the…Bombolotti all’Amatriciana,” my mom said slowly, trying her best to pronounce the dish.

“Two wonderful choices,” Issac said as he took up the menus. “Especially the Tortellini. The mushroom one is my favorite,” he chuckled, slipping some curly blond hair behind his ear.

As Issac walked off, my mom swatted my arm with a grin. “He’s into you.”

“Or he’s just being polite,” I said, taking a drink of my soda. “And besides, he’s not my type.”

“Oh and what would that type be?” My mom asked, leaning forward on her elbow.

I sighed. “I’m just not gonna date right now.”

“Why?” My mom asked, pursing her lips as she sipped on her water. “I was already married and had a kid at your age.”

“Mom, that was you, I’m not ready for that type of…stuff. I may not ever be ready.”

“Oh please, I need a grandkid,” my mom sighed. I pursed my lips and looked to the side, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Why don’t you pressure Jacob into having a kid this much?” I muttered, leaning back against the cushioned seat.

“This isn’t about Jacob, it’s about you,” Mom said, making me scoff. “Way to avoid the question,” I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth shut. “And at least he’s in a relationship—“

“I’m in a relationship,” I finally said.

“What—since when?” My mom asked.

I sighed. “Almost a year.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to. Can’t you accept the fact not everything in my life is your business?” I questioned, leaning onto my elbows as I stared at her.

“I’m your mother—you should at least tell me when you’re dating someone,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you want to?” She was talking like I was crazy and that only made me angrier.

Thankfully, Issac came by with two large plates in hand. He glanced between us and could tell we were in the middle of a quiet argument, so he didn’t linger, and just slid the food in front of us.

As soon as he walked away I leaned over my plate and whispered, “because I didn’t want you to pressure him like you do to me.”

“Don’t be so sensitive,” my mom said, unwrapping the napkin around her utensils. She plunged her fork into the pasta and ate her food as she glared at her plate. “I want to meet him,” she finally said after a moment of silence.

“When he wants to meet you, he will.” I just focused on my food, savoring the mushroom-stuffed pasta. It was better than focusing on my fuming mother, who gripped her fork until her knuckles turned white.

“And here I thought you could at least give me a peaceful lunch—guess I was wrong,” Mom huffed.

“I’m tryin—“

I couldn’t finished before screaming erupted from all around of us—followed by the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I have made a first pass at a flowchart for my fics! This one only has multi-chapter fics on it (because I don't want to put 100 fics on there, fifteen took long enough). It'll be more legible if you open it in a new tab and zoom in!

Thanks to @blakbonnet for suggesting the flowchart idea, I had a lot of fun making it. Give it a look and find the fic you should read on my ao3 here!

[mechazushi]

Kafka Hibino

Kafka Hibino.... with visible salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka HIbino.... in that black turtleneck and a dark brown leather jacket and also wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing that outfit and is an Animal Biology Professor in an College Au.

Kafka Hibino..... asking out Hoshina who is an Advanced Mathematics Professor working at the same college, to have an after-work drink with him.

Slightly DRUNK Kafka Hibino... becoming very forward with an also slightly drunk Hoshina

Slightly Drunk Hoshina... immediately matching Kafka's freak tenfold and Kafka is very much fine with this.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Remember um. Remember that kinky Comic Goldenheart fic I've been teasing for like a stupid long time that like goes into emotional kink dynamics and shit?

It's finished

[reddamselette]

valgrace except leo accidentally told his mother that he’s dating someone and simultaneously came out to her in the same breath one night during dinner. she was teasing him, pinching his cheek and giving him looks as to why he’s spending so much time out of the house—she wasn’t complaining of course but she was very curious as any other mother is when her son is suddenly out and about.

and it would be a little something like:

Leo crossed his arms over his chest with a frown, his chest tight with the urge to laugh but the embarrassment was weighing him down. The tips of his ears burned and he huffed. “No, yeah, sure, guys. Just don’t even— don’t even, like, help or anything. It’s cool. I’m chilling.”

Piper wiped tears from her eyes, her cheeks ached and her stomach was sore as she was the first to come down from the high of laughter. She blew a deep breath, pressing her hand to her chest before she cleared her throat. She was desperately trying to bite back a giggle as she asked, “So— So what do you want us to do?”

“Help maybe.”

“That’s not— good gracious, I can’t breathe, wow—um, that’s not a valid answer and you know it,” Hazel said with a leveled look, a grin threatening to break out onto her lips and etch her features with smile lines.

“Why don’t you, I don’t know, ask someone to fake date you? I mean, it’s not ideal and there’s a lot to unpack with fake dating but I think as long as there’s no prior feelings, it should be fine.”

“Who would he ask? We’re not available and this ruse might have to go on for longer than a night.”

Leo groaned, throwing his arms up before he fell on his side and over Piper’s lap. His head rested on her thighs as he looked up at her and Hazel with big brown eyes regretting every decision he had made since learning how to make a choice. “I don’t even know why I said that! And I— you should’ve seen the look on her face when I corrected her by saying boyfriend. I’m dying, this is horrible. I hate everything. Tell Nico to prepare my funeral.”

“You said boyfriend? Why don’t you ask—“ Hazel began to say but Leo shook his head, waving his finger back and forth.

“Oh no, no, no. ¿Pienses que estoy loco? Annie would turn my nerves and veins into a tapestry and William would actually kill me and get away with it.”

Piper snorted, covering it up with a cough, pressing the back of her hand to her lips as she glanced away to compose and collect herself before she inhaled deeply. “What about Jason?”

Leo had sat up with such great speed, he almost toppled off the couch. He had the urge to offer Piper the biggest kiss known to mankind and he did. He pressed his lips to her cheek, cradling her head in his palms and pulled away with an audible smack. He winked at Hazel, picked up his belongings and nearly tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled out of Piper’s house and left the girls giggling behind.

He spent the rest of the day looking for the blond. Asking around and when he would come by, where he was or when was the last time they spoke to him almost frantically.

“Did he lose his head or something?” Nico asked, gesturing in Leo’s direction with an eyebrow raised and met the eyes of Frank and Reyna. But he only received shrugs in response and Nico dropped it, focusing on the cards in his hands and the poker faces of his opponents.

Leo only managed to catch Jason exiting a record store, walking side by side Thalia pulling on her leather jacket and Percy gliding along the sidewalk balancing on his skateboard.

He bent over panting, his hands on his knees as he stood in front of the trio breathless. He held up a finger, asking for a moment to catch his breath and push away the lingering spots of black in his vision and the dizziness swirling in his head like dying flames in the wind.

He swallowed and stood upright, his chest rising and falling slowly as his breathing regulated and he hadn’t spared a single look at the other two; his eyes were set on Jason and Jason alone.

Thalia and Percy’s gaze flickered between the two, shared a look with each other and had muttered obvious and poor excuses along the lines of: “I need to walk my fish,” and “My lamp needs to be charged,” before they parted ways with the blond and walked off in the same direction.

“Jacey, I need to ask you something and you would really save my life and possibly me from anymore embarrassment and if you disagree, I’m actually so positive I’ll, like, toss myself into a furnace or something.“

Jason chuckled and the sound of it carried in the atmosphere like a song Leo would play on repeat. “What do you need?”

In that moment, Leo realized and it caused his chest to tighten, his heart to stutter and skip a beat as jolts of electricity surged through his body listening to the words spill from Jason’s lips and tongue like it was honey.

He had prior feelings; so much of them, he almost exploded in a pitiful display of fireworks but he hid it easily.

Leo cleared his throat and tore his gaze away, glancing over to the streetlights and passing cars. The weight of Jason’s eyes on him was overwhelming. “I so obviously, uh, did something stupid. You know how it is and I was just, uh, you know, wondering if you can, um— pretend to be my boyfriend and meet my mother?”

“Okay.”

[cockasinthebird]

Wrote something real quick, and I'm actually super happy with it!

[daddyplasmius]

i love taking the ghosts out of Danny Phantom. like obviously the ghosts are great but also you can replace them with literally anything & it still works perfectly. Danny got bitten by a werewolf. Danny got bitten by a vampire. Danny was cursed to be a selkie or merperson or dragon. Danny can use forbidden magic. Danny's a demon with a human soul. Danny's gay. & he can't tell his parents because of their views. it doesn't even matter you can put that guy in situations completely unrelated to the original concept & it's still exactly the same because it envelopes the entire idea of "my parents hate what I am" that so many of us have personal experience with & i think it's beautiful to have a show that so easily lets us scream into the void & imagine our favourite little guy also surviving what we did/are

[cerealmonster15]

rereading my fics is like a constant cycle of being like "teehee that was funny. oh god that line was cringe. hehe that was funny. wait why did i say that 😑. hehe. wait i forgot about that part. hang on didnt i plan to write xyz into this why did i never get to that. teehee that was funny-"

[leadandblood]

edit: im honored by the results. i promise to deliver soon

[galacticlamps]

I'm going to uno reverse card you and say: for the fic guessing game, 'light'?

lol that's fair

apparently I talk about light a lot (go figure) so have this one that happens to be in the middle of its story's 'Oh' moment:

But perhaps, somewhere along the line, Jamie had slipped, and now . . . well now, standing on the balcony of a palace on another planet, with the Doctor dipping his head nearer just to hide his eyes from the light - nearer, and not farther, which would've been just as easy - no, now he had to admit something was different. When it had changed or whether it hadn't at all and he'd simply been too fool to realize it before he couldn't say, and it didn't matter anyway - he knew it now, and that scared him.

-

And just for kicks, under the cut I'm gonna put a longer excerpt from a totally different fic that came up while I was ctrl+f-ing 'light' in my wips - mainly because it happens to be part of a scene from a longish 'the Doctor & Jamie reunite with Zoe in 6b' story which is nowhere near completion, but feels relevant given the boxset Big Finish released last week (not that I've gotten a chance to listen to it yet, but still).

Zoe sat across from Jamie, her elbows on the table, her chin resting atop her hands - but she wasn't relaxed. She stared at him intently, and actually narrowed her eyes as he watched.

"What?" he asked, already defensive, and following through on an old self-conscious instinct, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With no mirror in sight, he looked to the Doctor to check if he'd somehow gotten something on his face already, but he looked just as baffled. Zoe hadn't broken her concentration yet.

"I'm trying to figure out if I'm older than you," she announced, still deep in thought.

"Ah--" the Doctor began, grinning wickedly, but whether he was going to answer her or merely tease they never found out, because Jamie shot an arm out lightning quick, as if to hold him back.

"No' so fast, you. Let the girl work it out."

He finished chewing and settled himself squarely in front of her for inspection. She continued to stare. "Y'know, I'm surprised you're having such trouble telling," he taunted. "After all, how old are you now?"

She opened her mouth at first to protest that she was under no obligation to announce her own age while he continued to keep his secret, but she still thought she might figure it out - and if she couldn't, she at least had the Doctor to rely on to make Jamie tell the truth.

So she shrugged. "I'm 41. But everyone here thinks I'm 39. I was born 39 years ago, of course, but counting chronologically from the time I left the Wheel with you in the Tardis, I aged two years before the Time Lords returned me to my own time. That was twenty-one years ago, now," she added, unable to judge if the faint waver of wistfulness in her voice was truly audible, or if it was just her own imagination. Thankfully, neither of them pressed her on it.

"Well, y'see, Zoe," Jamie began slowly, still chewing his last mouthful after she finished her explanation and sat waiting calmly for his reply. The Doctor leaned forward too, seemingly intrigued, though it must only have been to see what answer Jamie would try. "I was born in 1724," he paused and washed down his food with a swig from his glass, and for a moment Zoe had the grace to assume he was just working through his calculations, as she had done. "So I'm pretty sure I'm older than you," he finished, setting the glass back down on the table triumphantly.

All at once she felt a young girl again, a devilish light in her eyes. She wanted to jump across the table and tackle him - but that wasn't what Madam Presidents did. "Why, you--"

"They don't traditionally swear at their guests either, Ms. Heriot."

She turned on the Doctor, shocked. "You read my mind," she began, more impressed than accusatory, but he did at least have the decency to look sheepish.

He coughed politely. "Only to, ah, verify your math. And I'm sure you could feel my presence there, if you think about it."

"I could but I didn't know that's what it was. You've gotten so much better at it."

"Had to," he said simply, and shrugged, his eyes downcast.

Well, there was more to that, clearly, she thought, filing his deliberately nonchalant expression away for closer inspection later - but for now she was not about to be deterred. She snapped her eyes and her attention both back to Jamie.

"Still, we both know the Doctor obviously continues to value honesty and accuracy, so surely he'll tell me how old you are, even if you won't."

"Not if I ask him not to - right, Doctor?"

"Well . . . " he began, noncommittally drawing the word out so long that Zoe actually had time to wonder what his plan was for once he ran out of vowel. Jamie looked so genuinely horrified it was downright comical, and she had to force herself not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"We're married, Doctor," he reminded him, indignant.

"Oh, but it's Zoe," he complained, sounding every bit the petulant child she remembered he could be, all those years ago. "And as far as I can remember, none of the ceremonies we ever partook in had anything in the vows about obeying. Although I might be wrong . . ." he added under his breath, scratching his head.

"Charming," Jamie grumbled.

"Well, when we've had as many weddings as we have it can be quite a lot to keep straight in your head. You know, I sometimes wonder if we might qualify for some kind of an all-time record. If we hadn't the need to be covert about so many of them, of course."

"Stop that!" she snapped, and the Doctor turned back to her, the picture of confused innocence.

"Stop what?"

"You're trying to help him without helping him, just by distracting me. Naturally, I want to hear everything about all these weddings of yours, and I will see to it that you'll be having another one while you're here, like it or not--"

"Yes ma'am," Jamie quipped, mock-serious.

"--But first, I am going to find out how old you are, James Robert McCrimmon, and if you force me to use your husband to do it, then that decision is on you."

Jamie mopped his face with his napkin and came out of it smiling. He stretched and dropped an arm around the Doctor's shoulders, perfectly relaxed. Already, Zoe felt her heart sink, but she was careful to keep her composure.

"I'm only pullin' your leg. I'm 44."

"What, really? And you expect me to just believe that?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge but then glanced at the Doctor to confirm, and when he nodded she allowed her facade to crumble, rolling her eyes. Of course she had known when she'd first laid eyes on them that they'd be cutting it close, but Jamie still had quite a bit of that boyishness about him that had made it frustrating enough being his junior the first time around, and she really thought she might genuinely have enjoyed being just a hair older than him, for a change. After all, if you had to be ripped apart from your family and sent to separate timezones to live out your lives forever wishing for an improbable reunion, it might as well be good for something. But Jamie was far too smug looking now to be pretending, and Zoe knew it. "Oh, some people have all the luck," she groaned, dropping her arms and collapsing back dejectedly against her seat.

"Aye," Jamie said, leaning in over the table to follow her, "and some people live 22 years on Earth before they meet a time traveler, then spend 5 years with him before his people erase their memory and send them home to live another 5 before he's allowed to come pick them up again, and then force the pair of 'em to've spent 12 years so far working for them. Some people, eh?" he finished hotly, swiping his glass off the table again and raising it to his mouth in one fluid motion to take a long drink. But even so, his face was not so totally obscured from view that Zoe couldn't make out the amused curl at the corner of his lips, and when she caught his gaze again the glimmer in his eye was all fondness, just as it was with Doctor's and, she knew, her own.

Yes, no matter the circumstances, it was certainly good to see them again.

[whatshehassaid]

Here have a lil somethin’ I wrote. YEET https://archiveofourown.org/works/57285976

[lukiechino]

A Dream Within A Dream

| Spencer Reid x Reader |

“O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save,

One from the pitiless wave?”

— “A Dream Within A Dream”, Edgar Allen Poe

Y/n laid awake in bed, staring at the slip of paper in her hand. She tried to let her roommate’s earth-shaking snoring lure her into a merciful sleep, but with the paper and the thought of the delightful stranger she had met that night fresh in her mind, it was impossible.

Her mind overflowed with thoughts of the date she asked him on and what she would wear. But even more so, the thought that she held the coupon that he had quickly scribbled his number onto in her hand filled her mind with thoughts of late night talks and good morning calls that she always dreamt of having.

Y/n looked at the cardigan that was draped over the chair in front of her desk, remembering the moment he gave it too her. They were standing at the door of his apartment building, and Y/n awkwardly held the coupon he gave to her. She a short, sleeveless, sequence dress that her friend lent her had left her wrapping her arms around her for warmth. She awkwardly waved at him, but he hesitated at the entrance of the building. He quickly tugged off his cardigan and awkwardly slipped it over Y/n’s shoulder.

Neither of them knew what to say or do next, but Y/n managed to ask him out to coffee. Then, just before he entered his building, Y/n remembered neither of them had introduced themselves, even though they talked at the bar for what felt like an hour.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” Y/n whispered, staring at the paper. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand, turning it on. She quickly made the number into a new contact and stuffed the coupon into her nightstand’s drawer.

In a decision fueled by the confidence from lack of sleep, Y/n clicked call. She shot up as her phone rang loudly, and she hurried to turn it down.

Y/n hurried out of her and her roommates shared room, and into the living room. She placed the phone against her ear, listening as her phone rang. There was the click of the other end picking up, and Y/n broke out into a smile as she heard Spencer’s hesitant voice.

“Y/n?” He said. Then she realized that she just called this guy she barely knew at midnight, for no reason.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I called,” she rambled out quickly, pacing the length of her dining room table. “I…sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Y/n said, prepared to hang up.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he said, making Y/n’s finger pause on the hang-up button. She sat on the couch staring up at the ceiling as she held the phone to her ear. “Remember what we were talking about at the bar?” He asked. Of course she remembered, how could she forget?

The night turned sour for Y/n after her group of friends ditched her at a bar, with plans to go to a party nearby. But as she settled in at the bar, she found the guy next to her was reading a compilation of Edgar Allen Poe writings. Y/n excitedly struck up a conversation, which continued until a group of rowdy college kids infiltrated the bar.

“I finished reading Annabelle Lee,” he said.

“Ooo, how was it?” Y/n asked. It was one of her favorites—and it was actually the first poem of Poe’s she ever read.

“Still like the Raven more,” he said with a chuckle, and Y/n groaned dramatically.

“C’mon, the longing, the romance, the despair…” Y/n sighed. “Y’know what, the angels did not send a cold gust of wind to chill and kill Annabelle Lee for you to compare them to a talking Raven,” she said, getting Spencer to chuckle on the other end. “How about A Dream within a Dream, read that one yet?”

“I did, and it might actually be my favorite.”

“Phew, I don’t think I could handle any more disrespect to far superior stories,” Y/n said with a grin. Y/n closed her eyes to take in a breath. “The ending, it’s too beautifully written. The despair in every word reminds me of the empty feeling I get when I finish some eye-opening movie.” The doorbell rang as she finished talking. Y/n stared at the door upside down, praying it wasn’t family. But just in case she ended the call with, “Let me call you right back.”

The next morning, Gabby, Y/n’s roommate, woke up to an empty house. She looked around for Y/n, but found no signs she had been there at all since the night before. Nothing, except, for a crumbled up coupon with a phone number, and thin red cardigan that was thrown over her chair.

[down-with-the-mafia]

Mu knew how people viewed werewolves. She was prey for hunters. All people wanted from her was her pelt. No one cared about her. No one ever would.

Right?

[aqua-ginger]

Me thinks the next fic should be a bit angsty >:3

[anthosaidsmth]

House obsession is getting out of hand, had a dream about reading a Hilson fanfic where Wilson is abusive for some reason, it was a multi chapter coherent fic too. I need a lobotomy

[flecks-of-stardust]

Avengeance: Chapter One

Chapter one of a multi-chapter Rain World short story about Artificer.

No specific content warnings. Contains spoilers for Artificer's campaign; read at your own discretion.

Read this chapter on AO3.

A spear thuds into the wall next to her. Instinctively, she parries; a second spear clinks against the ground behind her as she grabs her pup in her mouth and leaps. A bomb whistles past her ear, past the mewling pup latched onto her back; she tries not to flinch as it explodes a few tail lengths away from her. Ignoring how her ears ring from the noise, she hits the ground running, bounding away with her pups as she weaves through a rainstorm of spears and explosives. 

Coming here was a mistake, but did they really have another choice? Food is getting scarce around their den, and rarely does the food they bring back to the pups stay fresh until they return. It had seemed simpler to just bring their pups along, but—

Her mate screams, the sound a drawn out, agonized howl. Every muscle in her body tenses, and it takes all her willpower not to turn around and dive back into the fray. They should not have come here. Their pups will be safe; she will ensure that, but with them in tow she cannot lend her strength. Her mate is strong, but… she’s never seen this many of them before. Not over a small centipede nest.

A scavenger, an ugly, gangly brown thing, shoves its way out of the ground next to her. Its eyes widen, but little more than a peep of terror escapes it before she jams a spear into its throat, snarling. She’s running again before it even hits the ground, swerving around a corner and leaping up onto the blocky path that leads to their den. The pup in her mouth mewls, squirming as she continues running. She dares not let them down with the sounds of explosions still ringing behind her. She’s so close now. Her chest burns from the exertion, her paws ache from the rough ground scraping against her toes, but on she runs regardless, ducking around another scavenger that waves its spear at her. She’s almost there. Almost home. Almost safe. They can’t follow her there.

Leap, crawl up two steps, kick off the wall, bomb jump, and she’s up to their den. She ducks in, releasing the pup in her mouth and sliding the other off her back, and she ushers both deeper into the little hollow in the stone they made their home. Tottering on their little paws, they stumble into the soft bedding, blinking up at her with huge, terrified eyes; she croons to them as she curls around them, briskly grooming the explosive powder off their tiny bodies. They’re unharmed, thank the stars, but they’re shaking. That was not a good first introduction to the outside world. 

She grooms them and rubs her face against theirs until they settle into her, breaths soft against her side as the tension bleeds out of them. Distantly, the explosions continue to ring, interspersed with the clanging of spears; her mate’s keeping them busy. She tucks her tail around their pups as she watches the entrance of the den, ears pricked for any sound of her mate returning. They… had not gotten any food. The scavengers arrived before any centipedes emerged. She can’t leave their pups here to try and hunt someplace else; they’re too young to be left unattended. 

So she waits. She counts the spots on her pup’s back; there are five, the dark blotches splayed unevenly against the gentle blue of their fur, and they ripple as they paddle at her, nuzzling against her belly for the long dried up milk that was once there. She traces the outline of her pup’s ears, watches the way they flick at every explosion, how they flatten against their head as they tuck their face under their little tail. Their fur, as green as the acid that pools along the ground, as soft as the plants that she and her mate painstakingly harvested before they arrived in this world, as sleek as the surfaces of the pearls that she chances upon sometimes. 

They are beautiful. Precious. Both look more like her mate than her, but that’s alright. She starts grooming them again, rasping her tongue across her pups even as they squirm and wriggle away from her, chirping in protest. She corals them back into her embrace, wrapping her tail tightly around them. They are everything to her. 

A soft drumming of rain above their den begins. She looks back towards the mouth of the den, ears twitching worriedly. The explosions have stopped, but there’s no sign of her mate. Out hunting for food, perhaps? The two of them can go without food for a while, but their pups need to eat. Though most things would have gone back into hiding by now…

The rain crescendos to a persistent, impatient drumming, then to a thudding downpour, and then to a screaming crash that makes her pups whine; she tucks her tail over their ears. Still no sign of her mate. This area is more shielded from the rain, but sometimes the caverns flood. Neither of them can swim well. 

She waits, eyes searching through the dimness for a flash of bright teal. She can’t hear anything but rain. Their pups start dozing off, unaware of the pounding fear that twists inside her chest as she waits, and waits, and waits. 

There are other dens. This is not the only safe area to ride out the rain. There are places that don’t flood, that are warm, that can shelter her mate until the end of this rain cycle. There is a world beyond this. Her mate will be fine. 

Her vigil stretches on with no end in sight. Her eyes start fluttering shut, but she yanks them open again, shaking her head to clear it. She’s exhausted, and hungry, and afraid. The nest is conspicuously colder without the warmth of her mate pressed around her. She can’t tell if it’s flooding. Can’t tell if her mate found food. Can’t tell if her mate is warm. Is safe. 

She can’t keep her eyes open anymore. She lets them drift shut, lets herself sink into an uneasy, fitful sleep filled with nightmares that she can’t pull herself out of. 

Over and over, she dreams of her mate never returning. When morning comes, the ache in her body rivals that in her belly, a dull, throbbing soreness that does not go away when she stretches. The cold bites into her, sinking its fangs deep into her bones as she limps around the den, and then out to the exit, peering around outside.

Her mate is nowhere to be found. No cheerful yowl to greet her, no centipede being carried up to their den, no gentle grooming of her ears amid a storm of purring. Gone. Dead. Her mate is dead.

The last bushel of hope in her chest shrivels up into nothing. 

Chapter one | two | three | four