#insp: last man standing

[incorrectcharmingfamilyquotes]

David: *standing at the door, watching Emma and Neal say goodnight after their date*

Emma: Well, I enjoyed our dinner.

Neal: Yes, it was a wonderful date.

Emma: Yes. *shakes his hand and walks inside* He's a lovely young man.

David: Why is your shirt inside out?

Emma: ...Goodnight, Dad.

[occamstfs]

Ain't No Place For A City Boy

Well this one was quite a bit longer than I intended it to be, Here's a ranch hand TF! Hope y'all enjoy and Happy Eclipse Day! -Occam

Day One

Buckley would never deign to visit a ranch of his own volition. Apparently once he left for college his dad visited this place quite frequently, but a habitual indoor kid Buckley never sought to join him. His father recently passed and his last request for Buckley was to give this place a chance. Homebody he may be Buckley was not going to ignore a deathbed request to just try some manual labor so here he is, luggage packed standing outside Stockman August’s Ranch. 

He fights back a grimace as he reminds himself to keep an open mind, eyes going slightly wide as a massive man starts approaching him from the homestead. He repeats various mantras under his breath; I can do anything for a week yeah? It’s for dad, it’s not like they’ll have me do something I don’t want to do.

Buckley throws up a performative smile as August approaches close enough to see it, he stands there frozen waiting for the man to offer some pleasantry. He throws out a hand to shake and asks, “You Austin’s son?” steely eyes under a furrowed brow observing and assessing the weak man before him. Buckley quickly goes to shake August’s hand, doing his best to manifest the strong handshake his dad had always endeavored to teach him but his hand simply cannot near the strength this man expects of his ranch hands. August makes no attempt to hide his own grimace looking at the sorry state of Buckley.

He turns to go back to the ranch, hands in his pockets expecting Buckley to get his own luggage as he shouts back, “gotta room for ya upstairs. Ya missed dinner, but we’ll get a plate for made. Work starts tomorrow.” Buckley just stares blankly as the cowboy wanders off, biting his tongue as he forces a smile onto his face one more. If he keeps it up maybe he’ll trick himself to not be stewing in irritation. He struggles behind August with his heavy luggage trailing behind, taking great care not to disparage this whole experience as he feels his open mind already being tested. 

Finally stumbling into the doors, Buckley finds a friendlier face in a younger ranch-hand Beau. All smiles, Beau welcomes him to the Ranch “Yew must be August yeah? August said yew’d be around, did’ya need some help with yer bags?” Buckley firmly latches onto the helping hand wordlessly taking all the help Beau is willing to offer, blushing as the man easily hauls all of his bags up the stairs and into his room.

Finding his accommodations, Buckley is less than pleased that there are three beds in the room. The light drops from his eyes as he realizes what a scam this whole mess is. He’s paying to share a room with two men? Seeing disdain painted across Buckley’s expression he quickly goes to assure him, “Hey now, ‘s not so bad Buck! I know there’re three beds but it’ll just be you and me in here and cross my heart I’m a terrific roommate! Or I was, uh, in university?” Buckley squints his eyes at the man before him, seeing his eyes go blank as if he’s adrift in his own mind and scratching at his chin. Rather than addressing his clear state of confusion, Buckley instead goes to correct his new roommate, “It’s Buckley actually, if you don’t mind.”

This snaps Beau out of it as he returns to assuaging Buckley without missing a step, “Sorry partner! I’ll try to remember that. How ‘bout I go on and get yew something to eat. Think there’s still some chili left. ‘ll that work for yew?” Buckley nods and Beau quickly makes to grab him a bowl from downstairs, repeating Buckley’s name to himself under his breath to avoid calling him Buck. In his absence Buckley begins to less than sneakily snoop around the room for anything he can learn about this horrible camp or his theoretically not abhorrent roommate. It is shockingly hard to find any personal effects of Beau, he thought he saw a degree on the wall but upon a double-take and closer inspection it just turned out to be a list of chores for the upcoming week.

As he inches over to Beau’s part of the room he smells something horrible from his closet, sure he can quickly sneak a peak before his roommate returns he opens the door to see pair after pair of dirty overalls filling the floor of the closet. As he opens the door a few spill out into the room proper as Beau returns with supper for Buckley. He looks away out of embarrassment and exhales out of his nose, before chewing out Buckley, “now why’d yew hafta go and do that there Buck- Buckley. Coulda just asked ‘S plain rude.” He stands tall over Buckley as he walks over with food. Buckley sees genuine anger appear in the eyes of the man towering over him before it fades to a smile and he pats Buckley on the back, “Not that yew’ll mind soon,” laughing, “I’m sure after a week here there’ll be at least this much laundry!” He rolls his eyes at this and begins to ask Beau about the ranch.

“How long have you been visiting here Beau?” Beau smiles and answers as he puts the bowl down, “I've been here for years bud! Originally was just a visitor but I loved it so much August went ‘n hired me and I’ve loved it ever since.”

Buckley’s eyes narrow in suspicion as he starts to eat, “I see, so you worked here while doing your studies?” Beau just briefly looks in confusion before bursting out in laughter, “my studies? As if kid, I ain’t a city boy like you ha! Anythin’ I need to know I learned from August! I’m sure you’ll learn a thing or two from him as well, certainly already eatin’ like a country boy haha!”

Buckley looks down to find he’s already nearly done with this bowl that had enough meat to stuff him two times over and burps in embarrassment. How could he possibly have scarfed it down so quickly without even noticing. Beau laughs once more seeing how embarrassed the newbie is and goes on to explain exactly how things work around the ranch. “It’ll be a long day tomorrow but I’m sure you won’t do nuthin’ too hard. Probably gardenin’ s’where he usually throws weaklings like you. Oh, uh sorry ‘bout that Buck- ah! Buckley.” 

Buckley smiles kindly at his roommate as he stumbles through this attempt at helping. It’s not like he minds being called a weakling, and if all he has to do tomorrow is garden he certainly won’t mind. He yawns as he continues to listen to Beau, slightly tilting over as he starts to fall asleep. Surely there wasn’t something in that chili, he thinks as he tries to stay conscious. Seeing him begin to drift asleep Beau goes to catch him and carry him to a bed, “boy all that eatin’ sure tired yew out huh. Dontcha worry kid, I’ll wake yew in time for chores tomorrow.”

In his presumably chili-based stupor Buckley dreams only briefly. He’s back in the office watching as papers and contracts pile up on the desk. Phones ring incessantly and a crowd of people demanding things of him as they walk towards him shouting. He turns over in bed uncomfortably as in the dream he turns to look out the window and sees an open field with horses running free. He sees Beau riding a stallion and motioning for him to join. Or it looks like Beau? He looks larger, his beard has filled out.  Before Buckley can even think to react he’s awakened by his roommate, blushing as he realized he dreamed of him beckoning. There must have been something weird in that chili.

Day Two

Hearing August downstairs Beau sprints out the door to hear the day's orders. Not having the awareness, or at the moment desire, to rush to attention Buckley takes his time getting ready. As he changes into an outfit to garden he finds himself thinking of his roommate. Didn’t Beau seem taller standing over his bead to wake him up today. He sure didn’t have that beard yesterday, though he did in the dream. God, did that shirt really flatter his pecs as well. Buckley finishes getting ready and struggles to shift his attention from the warmth growing in his crotch. Maybe there’s something to be gained from visiting this ratty camp after all. 

Stepping out the door he bumps directly into August who just grunts in response. Buckley falls backwards to the floor and the Stockman just glares down at him as a command issues from deep in his chest, “Be ready tomorrow morning. Don’t care who yer daddy is, I ain't gonna let some city pansy sit around and distract my boys. Today yer gardenin’ do good and maybe you’ll get to try some real man’s work tomorrow.” Buckley recoils as August spits on the floor next to him, sneering down and grumbling about how much he hates city tourists. Buckley grits his teeth as a strange new feeling begins to grow in his chest. 

Rather than the persistent voice in his head demanding he just back out of this hellhole, after bumping into the Stockman he finds himself wanting to prove the old man wrong. He rolls up his sleeves and rushes to the vegetable garden and gets to work. He doesn’t question how he knows the way or how proficient he seems at harvesting and tending to the vegetable garden. His mind grows pleasurably numb as he roots out weeds and plucks out food enough for tomorrow's dinner. He feels his mouth water in excitement at the upcoming meal as he wipes sweat from his brow, getting dirt all over his face and jarring him out of his apparent trance state. 

Buckley looks out in shock at the garden that he has somehow expertly cared for. There’s a large basket full of greens ready to be washed and a pile of trimmings as proving h that he’s even pruned the garden. He stumbles back knowing he couldn’t possibly have done that to any degree of success, with any amount of self-interrogation he would find that even greater than shock was a fear of disappointing August. His mind recovers both from the numbness and the shock as he goes to check whatever damage he’s done. Looking closely however he is filled with a degree of pride in his work, he’s really done a superb job here! He grins to himself seeing what adept work his hands have worked, consciously or not. No real surprise though, after all he’s been doing this for- Uh, well this can’t be the first time he’s gardened right? Did his dad teach him how to do this? He must have. Buckley wipes dust from his hands as he looks out to see whatever work the other ranch hands have gotten done. 

His gaze turns strangely wistful as he sees them herding the animals through the pasture. Just like in his dream he sees Beau atop a stallion controlling the beast like the paragon of a ranch hand, sweat dripping from his brow as he pulls down a bandana to smile and wave at Buckley. He starts to shout “Hey Buck-” before being interrupted by a sharp whistle from August standing at the edge of the field. Every man, Buckley included, knows that must mean dinner’s ready. He rushes to change into something not covered in dirt and finds an outfit on his bed, he didn’t remember packing this ratty tshirt or hat, maybe it’s Beau doing a favor. Regardless he throws it on so he can try to make it on time to dinner.

Arriving just in time the Stockman gives him a curt nod and gestures to the empty seat next to Beau. He happily sits and meets the other ranch men. He can’t feel deep inside that something about these boisterous men should put him off but the thought slides off his mind as their energy only riles him up more. The oldest ranch hand shouts over the rest to chat with Buckley, “Now Buck, you shoulda seen Beau when he first started workin’ here. Was a beanpole of a kid he was and look at him now!” Beau looks away from Buckley as he tries to hide his embarrassment, this however only highlights the power of his traps and neck that only entices Buckley more. Staring at his roommate he doesn’t even think to correct the old man for calling him Buck.

One of the other ranch hands tosses Buckley a beer, normally he would never stoop to drink the swill but if there’s nothing else handy he might as well. He finds himself thinking that he could use the calories, as if that’s something he’s ever been concerned about. Buckley starts to down the bottle before Beau puts his arm over him and shakes him shouting, “Look attcha Buck, er Buckley, already one of the guys! And what’d I say yer already less prissy, got some dirt right on yer face.” Beau goes to do Buckley a favor and wipe it off when he finds it's not dirt but sideburns growing on a face that was unmissably clean-shaven this morning. Buckley feels it too and quickly goes to rub his cheek in shock.

At the head of the table August sits silently and takes in all the chaos happening in front of him. His small horde of ranch hands all scarfing down their meals and chugging their beer so they may get back out there and finish their chores. He rubs his gray stubble as he appraises the spirit and physicality of the men before him. His eyes shift to Beau, pleased at how well he’s already filling out his clothes, clearly ready to move up a size or two. 

He then looks towards the freshest meat sitting next to Beau. He was impressed with the work the kid got done, not of his own accord of course, August’s eyes sparkle imperceptibly as he feels proud of his own work spurring the man to be better. This ain’t no place for some city boy, but Buckley’s already starting to carry his own weight. August wanted to see just how fast he might go beyond that. He’s Austin’s kid after all August thinks before grumbling to demand the table's attention as he walks to stand behind Buckley. “Tomorrow. Buck’ll join the rest of ya in the fields. Ya’ll go on and show him the ropes then. Needs to get rest so he can start real work. He’ll go on and turn in now.”

Buckley starts to speak and protest, not of the opportunity but of being told to turn in early. He opens his mouth to speak but turning to look at his Stockman he feels the weight of sleep overcome his mind. His eyes grow heavy and his stomach grumbles. Bickley turns to find that he has well finished his dinner. All the other ranch hands have vacated as he sits in front of a few discarded cans of beer and multiple servings of the meal, August pats his shoulder and dismisses him, “see ya tomorrow youngin don’t let me down. Don’t let your old man down. Become the man you ought to be.”

Buckley stumbles up the stairs drunkenly and bloated before collapsing into his bed once more. Immediately drifting to sleep he feels his body lie there dead as a rock as a pervasive soreness and itch fills his subconscious. This easily shifts to a primal lust-filled hunger. The feeling of his chest itching against his bedsheets becomes grinding against Beau’s body in his mind. His stubble pushing out into a scruffy beard in the waking world goes unnoticed as dreams of his tongue forcing itself into his roommate's mouth, knocking the hat off his head as he throws all his weight against him. The musk of many hard-days work and that of a lustful slumber merge as a copious amount of sweat swiftly stains Buckley’s sheets. 

The ache in his stomach begins to dissipate as his body forces itself to grow. He humps his bed as he does Beau in his dream, each time his arms press larger. His scrawny chest begins to grow real weight, each grind into his bed straining his new t-shirt as it too begins to change, revealing the growing pecs as well as hair pushing out all over his chest, and a forest that is never to smell fresh again growing in his pits. His cock was already filling his jeans when he collapsed into the bed, as his jeans grow to accommodate his growing waistline they struggle to keep up with the constant surges of growth in his crotch. He moans loud enough to wake his sleeping roommate as he loses control in his dream. Beau smirks to himself as he knows what it’s like to get so riled up and palms his own cock wondering what Buckley’s dreaming of.

Day Three

Buckley awakens at the first light of day, his hand shoved in his pants covered in still drying cum. He hops out of bed wiping his hand on his sheets and he tosses on a hat before racing down the stairs, excited for another- No. his first day on the ranch outright. He passes some new luggage in the living room, just like that he had brought all that time ago. He briefly tries to remember why he didn’t think to grab clothes from it this morning before remembering instead he wasted time watching Beau stretch and get ready. He meets August on the porch who hands him a mug of coffee and sending him off towards a stable. 

Just as the day before Buckley’s eyes glaze over and his mind is overcome with a comforting thoughtless buzz as he starts going about acting with an unconscious precision. He pulls all the levers and gates to release the cows to graze. He wanders around checking for any peculiarities of the stable, confident he would notice anything out of place, his foggy mind obscuring his personality growing brasher and more self-assured by the second. He meanders alongside the cows, petting them all in the right spots as if he reared them himself. He feels his lips move without his input, calling specific cows by name, recognizing them as soon as their names leave his mouth.

While his mind remains adrift he finds himself thinking once more of his dream and Beau, his Beau? He tries to maintain focus on inspecting the cows, but as his pulse quickens as the thought of disappointing August hits him like a shot of adrenaline, he is no longer able to move unknowingly as his thoughts race and his hands shake as he remembers. He stares at his shaking hands as they are unquestionably too large, dark hair crawls up from his wrists making way to soon grow onto his upper arms. He sees the muscle filling his biceps quiver and flex as he ambulates at all. He puts his face in his hands, feeling the beard scratch against them, as he tries to recall further. His shirt suddenly itches beyond imagination and it tosses it to the floor, baring his chest as it expands even more powerfully with each heaving breath. Hair thickening in dark waves down the whole of his torso.

His ears ring as if there was an explosion as he struggles to stay standing, this isn’t who he is. Right? He’s been here for like a week? His mind blaring as it contradicts itself saying he has been here even less than that but also so much longer. Buckley stamps his feet down in rage as he tries to remember any truth at all. He, he was supposed to train to be a rancher today, right? But it can’t be his first day, he did his part like he’s a professional. He is a professional no? He’s been doing this for- He can’t remember, he was gardening just yesterday wasn’t he?

Buckley scans the farm looking for Beau, or August, anyone who can offer some immediate answer. Instead the only figure he can see is one he can’t recognize, some kid that’s doing the gardening. Buckley sees him grimace as he makes his way through the garden, harvesting quickly but efficiently. He rolls his eyes, sure that he could do a better job than whoever that little bitch is. The thought that he is a spitting image for the man that Buckley was not but twenty-four hours ago does not even begin to occur to him. For Buckley is not that man anymore. He looks down to see veins trailing across his arms, pumped from the effort of moving hay bales and readying all the dairy cow equipment. 

August whistles once more calling everyone inside for dinner, this time Buckley can’t bring himself to care enough to change or even throw some deodorant on. Beau’s prediction of it being one week before the man would put work before hygiene has been blown out of the water, but neither could begin to recall. For this is who Buckley is, this is who he has always been. At dinner he is sitting directly across from the new gardener, Colton.

He stares daggers into him as the crew begins to dig in. He isn’t quite sure why he feels such rage at the weak man across from him, but it only grows worse as he starts to scarf his dinner. Words that August never even said to him echo in his head as he stares at the young man eating, this ain’t no place for a city boy. Seeing his roommates eyes darken under his thickening eyebrows Beau hits him in the shoulder, “Hey now play nice, Colton’ll be staying in our room so y’all two need to get along, right Buckley?” Averting his rage at the anxious twink across from him Buckley takes sudden umbridge at being called Buckley.

“Y’know, I think you may have had a point yesterday, Beau. Think it’s fittin’ if I just go by Buck.” Beau smiles at his roommate, playfully punching his arm before pulling him into a side hug. Neither man notices as an accent has suddenly imposed itself onto Buck’s voice. Across though Colton rolls his eyes as he sees the cowboys staring at each other so intently, more focused on them than the haste at which he is cleaning his plate.

Tonight, rather than sending one ranch hand to get some rest, August decides to treat his crew and give everyone the rest of the day off. To celebrate, all indulge in even heavier drinking than usual, Colton as the newbie is required to prove himself to the other ranch hands as Beau grabs a couple six packs and motions for Buck to follow him. The two head off towards a quiet corner of the ranch, where August would not be able to watch and the two just sit together and talk. There is a palpable gravity between their bodies as they sit and watch the sunset. Buck wants nothing more than to give in but his mind is suddenly murky once more. He struggles to ask Beau, “Beau, what, or how long have I been here at the ranch?”

Beau tossing back the last of a bottle just looks coily at his partner, “Now yew know as well as I do hon-” 

“No! I just want you to tell me.”

Taken aback Beau opens a bottle and offers it to Buck before continuing, “Well, y’see it’s just a little foggy ain’t it?” Buck’s eyes widen as if he’s cracked a case before saying as much though his mind is thrown into disarray as Beau goes on, “I remember you being new, but also, you’ve done worked here for years Buck?” The words hit Buck’s mind like a hammer on the anvil, the idea of him working at this ranch searing red hot into his mind as he coughs up the beer he was drinking. His eyes glaze over immediately as he drops the beer bottle, he doesn’t remember anything else of the night, at least not in the conscious world.

The last words of reality he remembers; Haven’t you worked here for years Buck. what is his mind to do besides stew on them, now given total creative liberty. He remembers first coming to the camp, he was the weak scrawny dweeb, but that was a time so far removed from the present that it may as well not be him at all, he was surely a teen at the time anwyay yeah? In his dream he remembers meeting Beau very soon after, the two hit it off immediately and become the exemplar ranch hands they clearly are today. Bizarrely he remembers seeing his father with August, but this is, it’s a dream? Surely his subconscious is just throwing spaghetti at the wall. He sees himself caring for the cows, feeding chickens, showing Colton how to garden. He sees Beau tending to the stallions, helping out in the kitchen, repairing the stables as is often needed.

He sees wrinkles start to appear in the corners of their eyes, white hairs start to speckle his beard as the years fly by in his mind. He watches as both he and Beau grow and maintain their bodies, every day working hard for the ranch, for August and Austin, and becoming the ideal that any cowboy, that any man should be. He remembers playfully mocking Beau as he went in to get another tattoo. He remembers Beau teasing him for the pride he takes in sculpting his body, and for plucking out his gray hairs. He is taken back to the first time they had sex, taking an uncharacteristic break from working in the stables to fuck behind the pens. His mind is filled with encounter after encounter, day after day of working hard together and retiring each night to the same room. He sees himself now, body still, lying in a bed next to a man he has clearly loved for longer than the entire life he lived before the ranch.

Day Four

Thus is how awakens. Nude in his thankfully private bedroom with his partner, his lover, Beau. He brushes Beau to help him awaken as he throws on some comfortable clothes for another day of work. Scratching his beard and offering a large dad yawn he makes his way to the common area where he sees Colton already dozing once more, lazy freeloader. Inspecting the new kid though he is pleasantly surprised to see that he must be going through a growth spurt, his midriff is exposed and he seems to be scratching his chest in his sleep. August must really know what he’s doin’ hm.

Speaking of the devil August rounds the corner and looks to Buck with a twinkle of pride in his eye. Both for the work he has done and will continue to do, and at the vitality and virility of the man before him. His father would be proud. Beau soon follows after, squeezing Buck’s shoulder and tossing his forgotten cowboy hat on the couch next to him, his scent in the air as he stomps by is more than enough to get Buck to think with his balls. Before he’s too far gone though August clears his throat and goes over the plans with the two clearly seasoned ranchers. 

Buck squeezes Beau’s ass as he heads out to the pastures, excited to prevail through another day at the ranch. He feels an outpouring of gratitude towards his dad for bringing him to this place. It made him who he is and he is more than eager to show other men exactly what they can be. No, what they should be.

[haddonfieldwhore]

surprise - ethan landry

🔪❗️SPOILERS FOR SCREAM 6 ❗️🔪

🔪❗️SPOILERS FOR SCREAM 6 ❗️🔪

heavily insp. @gothicknightz

warnings: blood, violence, death, language, last warning- major spoilers for the movie, although some of the plot is changed/not exact, i don’t like how this turned out so let me know what you think

blood dripped down your arm from a knife wound you’d failed to avoid as you ran from the pair of killers. the two of them wiped the blood from their knives in sync as you and sam tried to pull tara away from chad who lay bleeding out on the floor at their feet.

“go!” you yelled, pushing the sisters in front of you back towards the main room of the theatre. the three of you were in the center of the room as kirby, bleeding from her forehead stumbled into the room holding a gun. through the locked gate behind you, detective bailey entered the theatre, his gun pointed toward kirby as she returned the gesture. it was all a blur as detective bailey shot kirby, and one of the ghostfaces entered the room to stand next to him. same and tara muttered words of disbelief.

not noticing the other one sneak up behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and you felt the cold sensation of a knife being held against your throat. you screamed as you were held tight by the killer, unable to move without the blade digging into your neck. sam and tara stared at you, moving to help but stopping when faced with a gun and two knife wielding killers.

still holding you with one arm, the ghostface who had you reached up and removed their mask, and your heart dropped.

“e..ethan?” you stuttered, as you slid down to sit at the floor at his feet, the knife still held to your throat. your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you realized you had a knife wound on your leg that you hadn’t noticed until now; the adrenaline having blocked out the pain. but it all came crashing down on you now as you looked up at your boyfriend in shock.

“surprise- my names not ethan landry!” ethan explained. “it really wasn’t that hard to juke the roommate lottery. and to think, all i had to do was room with a condescending alpha, literally names chad; fuck it felt good to kill him!” than yelled, smiling.

“so that means…..” sam looked at the other masked killer. “…mindy?” she asked in disbelief; by process of elimination, she was the only one of the friend group left. the killer removed their mask to reveal the identity of the final ghostface.

“quinn? but - you died,” tara said in shock, as the ginger girl shook her hair out from under the costume.

“kinda didn’t,” she shrugged. “easy way to get off the suspect list though.” quinn laughed.

detective bailey taunted sam, the older carpenter sister putting the pieces together that the three killers were richie’s family, richie having been the killer in the last ghostface killing spree back in woodsboro, as well as having pretended to be sams boyfriend to get close to her. now they wanted revenge for sam killing richie. sam began to shit talk richie to his father, calling him pathetic and a man baby, before quinn and detective bailey attacked sam and tara.

“ethan…” you groaned, feeling the effects of the few knife wounds you had. he crouched down behind you, positioning you between his knees as hi stroked your hair with the hand that held the knife; his other arm still holding you tight so you could run away.

“shhhh,” he cooed next to your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “i never wanted you to get hurt -“ he whispered, placing the knife back to your throat as he watched sam come back towards the two of you. “stay there, sam!” ethan threatened. neither you or ethan noticed tara creeping behind ethan, a brick in her hand ready to swing at his head. the hit never came though, because as sam stepped closer to grab you from ethan, your hand wrapped around ethan’s on the handle of the knife and drove it into her stomach.

“no!” tara yelled from behind you, before being tackled by quinn, who you noticed was bleeding from her mouth and missing a few teeth. sam looked up at you and ethan in shock, before you kicked her backwards, a spray of blood coming out of her stomach with the knife as she fell onto the ground. detective bailey joined the chaos in the room, looking proudly at you and ethan as your boyfriend extended a hand to help you up off the ground. his arms wrapped around you to hold you up on your injured leg, and he pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

“you too?” sam asked as ethan handed you a spare knife.

“not exactly,” you started to explain, but detective bailey took over.

“think of this as an initiation; sure ethan trusted them, even told them it was him, back at your apartment.” he laughed. “i mean it was kinda obvious though- them being the only one who didn’t wind up with any major injuries and all.” detective bailey gave ethan a look as if to criticize the fact that he left you relatively unharmed. “i will say though; they’re quite a convincing actor.” he gestured to you.

“you knew- after anika? after we thought quinn..” tara yelled. “why?”

“what can i say, tara.” you laughed.

“the things we do for love.”

[tokkias]

you can just fall into me ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: Lucy had always known that big changed would come into her life as she stepped into her new role at Heartfilia Konzern she just hadn't expected one of those changes to be the result of a threat to her safety. The feeling of dread through her veins is no longer an uncommon one, but at least the feeling is eased when Natsu is by her side. ao3

insp

The quiet bloop of an incoming email pulled Lucy out of her moment of concentration as she tapped away on her keyboard. Any other time, it would have been an inconspicuous sound that she paid no mind to, just a regular part of her business day, but things at the Heartfilia Konzern had been... complicated as of late.

Stepping into the position as C.E.O. and owner of Heartfilia Konzern, she had kept a low profile. Sure, she had expected massive changes in her life—that there would be more attention on her than she was once used to—but what she hadn’t expected was the intense attention of one individual in particular.

It had started innocuous at first—a few social media posts expressing their infatuation with the pretty new girl in charge of the railway conglomerate—but it had slowly devolved into something much deeper and sinister. A few social media posts had turned into a few emails, turned into a few phone calls, turned into showing up outside one of the office branches one morning in a bid to catch her on her way in or out. Thankfully, it had not been one of the buildings she frequented, but it had sent her anxiety over the edge. This man was obsessed with her and was quickly becoming a threat to her safety.

She didn’t read through the incoming email for the sake of her own sanity, but from the brief glance she had captured, she got the gist of it. They’d gone from pleading to threatening, an attempt to scare her into giving him the attention he craved. Her team had told her not to respond, and though she had heeded their advice, it had made her feel so helpless.

She was scared.

Even with her security team around, there was always the lingering thought about how there was someone out there who quite possibly wanted to hurt her, and based on his actions so far, he very much had the means to do so. For the most part, she could push it to the back of her mind to get through the work day, but reminders like this did her no good.

If she thought she had successfully masked her anxiety, she was quickly humbled by Natsu’s worried expression from across the room.

Just as she was about to speak her reassurances, a knock came at the door, causing Lucy to jump and undoing all the work she had put into convincing Natsu that she was fine. Peering out the glass wall of her office, she saw her secretary, Aries, standing outside, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. If someone were here to kill her, they probably wouldn’t knock, after all. 

“Um, Miss Lucy?” She meekly said. “Mr. Beaufort’s assistant just called to say he’s cancelling his meeting with you next Wednesday. He said something about… um… security concerns.”

Lucy didn’t bother to hide the frustrated groan she let out, her head falling into her hands, elbows thunking against the table.

It was easy to pretend the problem didn’t exist when the problem wasn’t making itself at home in her work emails. Admittedly, she was picking up a bad habit from her father before her of throwing herself into her work to avoid thinking about the problems in her personal life, but suddenly her personal problems were beginning to affect her work life too. This was not the first time someone had cancelled a meeting for safety concerns, and for as long as this issue was prevalent, she was certain it would not be the last.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“No, it’s not your fault,” she assured with a weak smile. “Thank you, Aries.”

With her dismissal, Aries rushed out of her office, leaving just the two of them alone once again.

“Dunno what he’s talking about worrying about security concerns,” Natsu said, air quotes around the last two words. “You got the best security around,” he added with a grin.

Lucy offered him a smile at his fighting words, but it didn’t quite go up to her eyes, and she knew he could tell. Any other time, she would have wholeheartedly agreed. Natsu and his team were great; they had never let her down before now, but they had also never faced a threat like this until now.

She tried not to frame it like that. He wasn’t a "threat," he was just some random with too much time on their hands, chasing after her like all the boys had in high school, but then again, those boys hadn’t shown up outside of her place of work. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t a big deal, that she would be safe, but she still couldn’t help but worry.

The only time she ever truly felt safe these days was when Natsu was in the room with her. If she was a little jumpy in the office, that didn’t compare to how she got when she was at home. Given the current circumstances, Lucy had a member of her team with her at all hours of the day, but realistically, it couldn’t always be Natsu. He was her employee who still had to go home at the end of the day. He had friends he drinks with on Saturdays, he had a cat at home to feed. There was no amount of money she could pay him that would take away the fact that he still had a life to live outside of her.

Natsu protects her during her work hours, while Erza and Gray take the night shifts at her apartment. They were both scary and more than qualified for their jobs, but she just seemed to feel at ease with Natsu in a way she couldn’t with them. That wasn’t a knock to them; there was just something about Natsu that she could never find in anyone else. She always felt calm around him, entirely at ease.

The rest of the afternoon came and went without incident, much to Lucy’s relief, and before long she found herself being escorted into her apartment by Natsu behind her. That wasn’t originally part of his job description—he would meet her at the office in the mornings and leave in the evenings, but now that there was the concern about her being jumped on her commute, it was better safe than sorry.

Gray was taking the evening shift tonight, and while it would have been reasonable for him to be the one to escort her home, these days it was always Natsu taking her to and from work. Even though he was technically off the clock, even though he wasn’t paid for the extra twenty minutes before and after, he never complained about it, and Lucy couldn’t be more thankful. Maybe having someone on her tail at all times could have been overbearing to some, but she didn’t mind it so much when it was Natsu.

Gray was already standing outside her building by the time they arrived, and the pair escorted her to her apartment with only little fuss.

Though a little unnerving at first, Lucy had grown used to having someone with her at all times. It was better than the alternative, given her current situation. Gray mostly minded his own business, and Plue had gotten used to the company quickly, so it wasn’t all that bad. Tonight, though, the company just didn’t seem like enough to keep her from getting antsy through the evening.

She tried her best to busy herself to keep her mind off today’s events. She cooked her and Gray dinner rather than ordering out; she finally got a start on that new podcast that she had been meaning to listen to, but even as she tried to focus on other things, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander. It was bearable for a while—she could rationalise with herself when the lights were on and Gray was in the room, but as the sun dipped below the horizon and Plue yapped at her to get into bed, things quickly went downhill. Every time she closed her eyes, her brain would be washed over by a series of what-ifs.

What if the security wasn’t enough?

What if when she opened her eyes, he was standing, looming over her?

What if he intended to make good on his threats?

Even with Plue snuggled up in bed with her, ready to go on the offensive and do whatever his little body could do to protect her should the need arise, she just couldn’t seem to shut her mind up.

She wished Natsu were here.

He was the only one who could truly make all the voices in her head simmer down, if even for just a few moments. Natsu had proven himself time and time again as her protector, shown his willingness to go above and beyond for her to keep her safe. She knew that all of her team would do that—it was their job after all—but with Natsu, it felt like something more than that. It wasn’t just the physical safety he provided her; it was emotional too.

Harm couldn’t come to her when Natsu was around; he would never let it. That was even true when it came to the anxious thoughts plaguing her head.

She tried not to talk about these problems with anyone, to not let anyone in on the fact that she was struggling. She already had so much pressure put on her as the new head of a massive conglomerate. The media made sure everyone knew she was unqualified for her position, and they were right—she was just a nepo-baby stepping in to uphold what little of her family legacy was left behind for her. Still, she couldn’t let the media, the public, or her peers think of her like that. She was a hard worker; she was well-spoken, smart, and kind. Given the time she knew she would flourish into something great.

She couldn’t let them see that behind that confidence and composure, she was just a scared little girl, lost and confused.

With Natsu, she didn’t need to maintain that image. Due to the nature of his position, he was the person she spent the most time with these days, and there wasn’t anything she could hide from him. He was the only one who really knew the inner workings of her brain, the real fear and confusion she felt from everything that was happening around her. He was the only person she really felt she could confide in.

A soft sigh passed through her lips as she gazed at the dark ceiling. Yearning would not make Natsu magically appear, nor would it make all her woes and worries disappear. Figuring she wasn’t about to get to sleep soon, Lucy crawled out of bed and made her way into the kitchen in hopes that a warm drink might ease her woes.

The lights were still on in the living room when she passed by, and the television was playing softly as Gray kept himself occupied. Though she tried to pass by unnoticed, Gray was still on the job and wasn’t about to let anything slip past him.

“You alright?” He asked.

His voice stopped her in her tracks, leaving her standing static in the doorframe.

“Yeah, I just…” She trailed off, realising that Gray was no fool. There was no stepping around it, no pretending that she was fine. “I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he sympathetically replied. “I’m sorry.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to search for some words of comfort, but he was her guard, not her therapist. Though they were friendly, he wasn’t close to her like Natsu was.

“You’ll be alright,” he settled on.

Lucy offered him a soft smile.

“I know.”

She bit at her lower lip, hesitating for a moment before she made her way to the kitchen.

“What time does Natsu start?” She asked.

“He’ll be here at six,” Gray replied.

Lucy glanced at her phone, finding that it wouldn’t be another four hours until Natsu would arrive. She’d usually be long asleep by now, but today’s events had been weighing heavy on her mind, leaving her more anxious than usual.

“Okay,” she said, trying her best to hide the disappointment lingering in her voice. “Thank you.”

☆♡

The taste of lavender overcame her senses as she sipped on her mug of tea, hoping that the warmth that spread through her body as it went down would soothe her.

Plue let out a soft whine as she crawled back into her sheets, roused from his slumber upon her return. She murmured a soft apology as she stroked his fur in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. She would rather at least one of them get a good night's sleep tonight.

She didn’t have a television in her room, knowing that one would just keep her up on nights she just needed to know what happened in the next episode of her soaps, but she had never regretted that more than right now. A distraction was more than welcome right now—a trashy reality programme to keep her mind off her own problems. Unfortunately, tonight it was just her and the flitter of moonlight that made it through the curtains.

She closed her eyes and tried to simply will herself to sleep, counting sheep until her consciousness faded into dreams, but as had become routine for this evening, that just wasn’t the case.

And so she lingered awake, accompanied by nothing but the shadows on her walls and Plue’s dreamy whimpers.

After what felt like hours of sleep evading her, a soft knock came on her door, and assuming it was Gray, Lucy let out an affirmative murmur to let him know he could come in. When she looked up, however, it was not Gray’s gaze that she was met with. In her doorframe stood her day guard, Natsu, with messy hair, a dark grey hoodie, and a pair of pyjama pants covered in little cats.

“Natsu?” She croaked out. “What are you doing here?”

She wondered for a moment if she really had fallen asleep, if she was simply dreaming this moment up. What he said next proved that she was very much awake.

“Gray called me and said ya couldn’t sleep, so I came over to make sure you were okay.”

Lucy was quiet as Natsu made his way to her side, sitting down on her bed next to her.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “Your shift doesn’t start until six; I’m not paying you to be here.”

“I’m off the clock, which means I get to make my own decisions, and right now I wanna be here for you,” he replied, his hand reaching for hers in a comforting manner. “I’m not just your bodyguard, y’know. I’m your friend, too.”

She looked up at him, even in the dark, still able to make out that trademark Natsu smile on his face.

Natsu was always a nice guy, always kind and friendly towards her. She was never sure how much of his friendliness was just part of the job that she paid him for. In his words, she realised that their relationship went beyond that of the paycheque she signed for him every week—he saw her as a friend.

“I’ll stay for however long you need me.”

His thumb ran gently across the back of her hand, and immediately she felt herself growing more at ease. The worry still lingered in the back of her mind—it had never fully gone away since the very first incident, but with Natsu by her side, she finally felt herself safe enough to let out some of the fear that had been plaguing her brain.

“Natsu…” She murmured, her voice soft and low as she spoke. “I’m scared.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, his brows knitted together in concern. “But I’ve got you, okay? Nothin’ bad is gonna happen to you while I’m here.”

She wholeheartedly believed him.

He had protected her from drunkards and catcallers; he had never hesitated to throw himself in harm's way to keep her safe. Nothing could dare touch her if Natsu had anything to say about it.

The thought of him fending off some perpetrator in his kitty cat pyjamas made the corners of her lips quirk up in a small smile. That sounded like exactly something the silly boy she had come to know would do.

“Get some sleep, okay?” He said, his voice more tender than she thought she’d ever heard it before.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be alright,” he assured her. “Me and Plue are gonna keep you safe, isn’t that right, buddy?”

At the mention of his name, Plue stirred a little before giving out a huff of what Lucy liked to believe was affirmation before going back to sleep.

At his words, she slowly sunk back into her pillow and let her eyes fall shut.

She felt better, safe, comfortable.

She felt like grasping sleep tonight was no longer something well out of her reach, and as she faded out of consciousness, she was in no mind to consider the moral implications of falling asleep, holding her bodyguard’s hand.

[carnal-lnstinct]

♫ ☆ insp ☆ ♫

"If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting"

Sometimes it almost feels like he could fall out of his dreamy thoughts, and he would find the harsh Vampa sun on his skin. Then, the old man's voice would carry from some distance away or close by, maybe echo off the open cave walls to summon him back to his side. He'd immediately start throwing out orders to get this or take out another beast, or just rant about the day they would finally leave this forsaken planet for something better. Cursing the saiyan king's name came up mostly, but maybe Paragus' spirits were well enough some days to share a tale or two about the small things he had gone without and taken for granted over the last forty-plus years. Some things they should be sure to take advantage of when they got the chance. It made Paragus smile when he talked about the good of his prior life, his tone less grouchy and Broly could stand to listen more closely. His imagination could paint a picture of things he never saw from the way Paragus explained the many worlds beyond this planet, but that smile of his dad's was crystal clear above it all. Happy, and hopeful.

Broly didn't expect he could miss that after everything. Those same old stories over and over while they force down more scraps to keep their strength up for another day. Among the horrors they endured for years, Paragus was the one to keep up the spark of hope and pride for their future. Maybe it was just the older saiyan's wishful thinking and general spite to keep going, but there was so much they were supposed to do when they finally left Vampa.

Broly now gets to wake up in a place where the sun isn't so hot on his skin. There were soft places to sit and rest on and more varieties of food than he knows what to do with. And there were...friends. He never imagined having so many people wanting to care for him and help him towards a better place. But not his father. Paragus was always meant to do that and guide him through the unknown worlds, retrace all the steps back to where he was happy. He was supposed to be here for these better times in wonderful places. Their freedom to finally enjoy it all was so brief, Paragus' death leaving nothing but guilt in Broly. How could he allow himself to fully enjoy the beautiful mysteries of the universe when it was stolen from his father again?

For everything good that came in failing to fulfill his purpose, the only thing he was trusted to do by his father, Broly was left hollow in his grief. All Broly ever had to do was keep himself and his father safe. No one could change his mind about it or how deeply his remorse ached inside him. In the end, Broly deemed himself a failure. Yet he is the one who gets to enjoy the new worlds. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

All that is left for him is to just "be better" than what was put on him and it would somehow solve his problems. Friends and really good food made it easier, and he was excited to finally enjoy training again but truthfully it made him miss his father more.

As he lingered in his sorrows, Broly's memory surfaced older things from when he was still small enough to be toted around in the old man's arms. That made him smile. Even when he was afraid to fight or fussy against the orders put on him, he remembered that gruff voice of Paragus voicing how proud he was of him.

Then Broly stopped smiling. Clutched in the saiyan's hands was the robe last worn by Paragus, all that Broly could keep with him when he was able to recover it upon returning to Earth. He hung onto the way his father spoke so grandly of his strong and combative son and holding the cloth made it sound real again. Before his unruly power started to frighten Paragus. Before sparring with Ba was wrong.

He let himself forget about that...How could he? Broly can't "wake up" in the cave to his father calling his name now. Paragus can not tell him how proud he is.

He failed. He's gone.

"Broly." You knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open to enter, finding the tall saiyan sitting along the edge of his bed. "Oh good, you are up! Lunch is..." Your voice trailed to silence at the sight before you. In a defeated slump, the wild head of hair gently turns toward you with watery eyes catching the light coming through the doorway. He's stuck in the heavy sensation pulling in his chest and it overwhelms him in your presence. "What's the matter? Did you hurt yourself?"

He tried to keep himself together under your gaze, his fingers curling tightly in the light-color fabric until they trembled. His composure ultimately disintegrated as the first heavy tears fell from his face into the robe and he lowered his head. You reacted without thought, moving in closer with your arms opening to him. Broly could only lean in towards you burying his face into his father's remaining possession and sinking into your arms.

"My dad..." His sob was muffled in the cloth pushed into his face. "I-...He was..."

"Oh no, no it's okay. It's okay, Broly." You softened your voice and drew his head onto your shoulder. Grief like this could be so heavy to bear alone, hearing him give in to his cries filled your own eyes with warm tears. But it was necessary for him. The best you could do was just to help ease the loneliness of it. You blinked to keep your tears at bay and rubbed a consoling hand along his large back as much as you could reach and as long as was needed. "It's going to be alright. Take your time, I'm right here."

[gnarledbite]

Insp: Unraveling (Unravel) and Amen (Amber Run)

January 12, 1954

Garrett's boots crunched through the brittle ice and snow glittering in the scarce lamplight. No plumes of mist formed in front of his face, no breaths made his chest rise and fall. The wind tried to snatch his hood from his head and he tugged it back into place; the vampire looked around at the streets he used to know like the back of his hand, both amazed and disheartened at how much had changed in his absence. He only recognized the older buildings (the couple that were still standing, anyway); other than that, nothing looked familiar. He supposed with a heavy heart that progress and two world wars would have that effect.

 It had taken much longer than he'd liked to get an answer about Oliwia and Piotr Nitka. The old woman he'd spoken to an hour ago had directed him east, with a devastatingly telltale sorrow in her voice as she spoke of them… spoke of them in a past tense that filled his chest with lead. It wasn't the cold that numbed his limbs as he crept over the black iron gates, dread filling his mind, eyes scanning every name they fell upon as he wandered among the stones. 

He already knew what he was going to find. The reality hadn't even really hit him when he finally saw it: three headstones in a row, one far older than the other two,  all bearing the same last name. 

Oliwia Nitka. 1888 - 1952.

Piotr Nitka. 1907 - 1943.

Garrett hardly realized he'd sunk to his knees, even as the icy cold started seeping through the fabric of his pants. 

He was too late. Too late by a meager two years. Oliwia taken by time and Piotr by war. His face crumpled, vision blurred, and the blood running from his eyes chilled his cheeks where the scarf over his face left them bare. That same blood left splatters in the snow as he bowed his head, his claws pricking at his scalp through the thin fabric of his hood as an ugly sob wrenched itself from his throat. 

Why hadn't he fought harder? Why hadn't he run from his sire the first time he'd gotten the chance? Why had he let her scare him into abandoning his own family? Why had he left them to think he was dead for the rest of their lives? The damnable blood bond was the answer to everything running through his mind, but that didn't stop the surge of guilt. Another sob rose into a hoarse, grief-stricken scream, that only cut off when his voice cracked from the force of it. 

Eyes still swimming with crimson, the Nosferatu finally lifted his head, gaze wandering to the last stone: his own.

Lukas Nitka. 1886 - 1917.

Another body-wracking gasp escaped him, but after a forced breath it shifted to a snarl, and he lunged forward to rake his claws across the worn granite slab. Four parallel gashes cut through his old name and the years marking his life, but with that act of aggression, he sank back to his knees, heedless of the ice and cold. Only then did he hear the quick crunching of footsteps behind him, accompanied by the flickering light of a lantern and calls of “Hello??” that were snatched away by the wind. The footsteps paused before the voice spoke up.

“Sir? I'm sorry, but you can't be here after dark. You–” the words paused as the gloved hand laid on his shoulder was yanked back. “You're freezing! Please, come with me, you'll catch your death out here…!”

The hand returned and gave Garrett a gentle pull, attempting to rouse him enough to get him to his feet. All the vampire heard was the thrum of the keeper's heart and the rush of blood through his veins. Grief sharpened his hunger and anger to a dangerous point, and he dragged himself up, steadying himself only just long enough to turn and lunge for the unsuspecting man and sink his fangs into his throat. The lantern hit the snow with a rattle and a brittle crack of glass before the weak light sputtered out.

Brief though it was, the spike of panic left it's traces in the blood Garrett was gulping down, imparting a flavor he might've enjoyed under other circumstances. His Beast needled at his anger, nudging at his hunger, urging to drink deeper from the body pinned under him, whispering that it would soothe the ugly, aching hollow in his chest. After a long moment– too long– he forced himself to release the old man, snapping his head back with a shuddering gasp. He scrambled back on hands and knees like an animal, still hunched in the snow, the mouthfuls of hot blood making steam rise from his cold lips in a mockery of living breath.

He listened. There was barely a shudder of the old man's heart before it fell as silent as his own. Regret washed over his anger as he felt something deep inside him wither and wane; not completely, but enough to remind him quite sharply of the consequences of what he'd just done.

Damnit. Damnit, damnit, DAMNIT. He probably had family of his own. A wife. Children, grandchildren. Who was Garrett to take that from them just because HE was the one grieving?

He swallowed the last traces of blood and sat up on his knees, now listening for anyone else coming closer as he contemplated his next step– specifically, what to do with the body. No matter what he did with it, it couldn't be found with such bitemarks– marks that any halfwitted Hunter would be able to pick out, and it was too late to close the wounds the usual way. He had to make it look like something else. 

He had no knife… but his gaze fell to the cracked glass in the lantern and he quickly pried the largest shard loose. There was no blood left to spray from the hard (careful) slashes to the corpse's throat, slashes forceful enough to part flesh down to the bone, but they hid the bitemarks enough to his liking. 

Gathering the shattered lantern as well, Garrett hauled the dead man up with him and resumed wandering the cemetery, this time looking for something else. Eventually he came across a handful of fresh graves lying empty at the edge of the property, with a shovel propped against the edge of one; that explained why the old man had been so quick to find him. The vampire laid him down in the furthest grave with the lantern by his feet, and began quickly filling it in. Falling snow would ensure the new burial was hidden for a while, and with any luck, the body wouldn't be found at all. 

After twenty minutes of work, he tamped the earth down with the back of the shovel. Only then did he take a moment to shut his eyes and hiss an apology to the winter wind; maybe it would reach whatever family he had.

The last thing Garrett did was return the shovel to the little keeper's hut he'd passed, and then he pulled his scarf back up over his nose, pulled his hood down, and trudged back into the snowy night. Even if he'd left the body where it died, Garrett wasn't sticking around long enough to be found, now that he knew there was nothing for him here anymore. He felt for his pocket, knowing how much money he had left for travel. He didn't even know where he was headed. He'd just… pick a direction. Anywhere but here.

…North. He'd get to the train station tomorrow evening, and see just where North took him.

[murfeelee]

IWTV 2022 INSP - Driving Lessons

*tires screeching* Claudia: *cackles* Lestat: Just steer, steer! Claudia: Ugh! But we're immortal, Uncle Les! Lestat: You can still smash your pretty little head and then take long, dull months to recover--eyes on the road! *arrives at Lovers Lane* Lestat: Now, here's a treat I think you're ready for. This is what the meat calls a "lover's lane", and by my estimation, no blood is sweeter. Young people, swollen with passion, denied spirits by this senseless Prohibition, park along this lonely stretch to contemplate that most mysterious of mathematical equations: How one plus one...becomes one. Claudia: ....They come out here to do math? Lestat: You've been too sheltered, my belladonnic beauty.... You must be most ferocious. Man: Jesus! You gonna stand there watchin', little girl? Where's your momma? Woman: She just crawl out of the swamp or somethin'? Claudia: *evil grin* *SCREAMS!* Lestat: *whistling* Woman: Oh, mister! There's something back there--something evil! Lestat: Ahhh, yes.... She's with me!

– Interview with the Vampire: S01E04

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS

I've been meaning to return to my IWTV gameplay for months, and make gameplay pics from my last IWTV machinima's outtakes. But I kept getting sidetracked with other projects--it's great that I stay inspired to sim, but it's effing annoying when I get overwhelmed with all the stuff I want to be doing and never get to. U_U

CC CREDITS (no links cuz hella sleepy)

Car (IIRC by LiKo?)

SLS Capaon Anghofion world

Poses (IDER, too lazy)

[knives-out-incorrect-quotes]

Ransom: God, I'm such an idiot! [looks expectantly at Marta]

Marta:

Ransom:

Marta: If you're waiting for me to disagree, it's gonna be a long night.

[thedevilliers]

ORIGINS — EPISODE TWO

ep. 2: wolf in sheep’s clothing / insp. transcript under the cut ↓ previous / next

Magnolia conquered both Narcisos and Geronia within days. Peonia was the sole territory able to withstand the attacks by engaging in naval warfare against them.

Magnolia agreed to a peace agreement with Peonia, on the condition they’d be a sovereign nation to them. After this, the First General was annointed as King of Gardania, now known as King Edmund I.

He decided to hold a competition among the different territories; they were to send each one candidate for Queen Consort. Some were chosen from high-ranking families, while others volunteered.

[STEWARD] The final candidate, representing Narcisos and the House of d’Evilliers, Lady Aelin. [AELIN] Your Grace. [EDMUND] Lady Aelin.

Aelin was her father’s right hand, he had taught her everything he knew up until the day he died. She was smart, conniving at times even, and knew how to use her beauty to her advantage.

She knew she had everything to be the Queen, she only had to win Edmund’s heart. And so she did.

She was friendly, which made her stand out from the other ladies to Edmund. They all flirted with him while with Aelin he felt as if he could have a real conversation. She gained his trust easily, followed by his heart.

She believed she was going to be the one ultimately chosen by him. Until one night, she heard rumors of him also visiting Lady Catherine of Geronia. In truth, she was angry. Who was this man to play with her feelings?

[shes smirking here and he lookin real worried after i liquify] She let him know she’d be sure Lady Catherine would make a fine Queen and thanked him for his hospitality these last few months. She didn’t turn around even though he asked her to stay. She knew what she was doing.

The next day, the King officially announced their betrothal; she was the winner. She was to be the first Queen of Gardania. She expected to be treated as his equal, just like her father did towards her mother.

She was more of an accessory to him. His affections towards her slowly started decreasing due to her ‘insistent and unasked’ advice and propositions. He even sent her away temporarily to Montpelier.

He could try and avoid her all he wanted but he knew he couldn’t escape Aelin. She was with child and carrying his heir, there was no moment Aelin didn’t use this to advantage.

While she was pregnant, he signed The First Succession Act, establishing male primogeniture in Gardania; only sons would be allowed to be heir to the Crown. With this act, regency was also introduced in case the heir hadn’t reached maturity.

He established the House of Clermont, a name Aelin did not agree with. To appease her, he made her old house, d'Evilliers, their new house’s surname.

Things were going just like she planned to.

[recapitulation]

[id: gifs from the series “The Untamed.” Each feature a specific character. The background is edited to heavily accent a single color, the foreground features a diamond black-and-white gif of the same character with a black diamond shadow, there is calligraphic script signifying the name of a tarot card, and below this a few key meanings from the card.

The first gif shows Jiang Cheng, who in the background is glaring at Wen Ning (gif accenting purple) and in the foreground shows him blindfolded. The text reads, "The Star," and then "loss | abandonment | inspiration." The next shows Nie Huaisang, who in the background is looking to the side discerningly (gif accenting red) and in the foreground is looking over his fan cautiously. The text reads, "Judgement," and then "causality | karma | judgement."

The third shows Wen Ning, who in the background is blinking with his hair down (gif accenting green in the trees behind him) and in the foreground is looking up at Jiang Cheng after he knocks him down. The text reads, "The Hierophant," and then "mercy | goodness | captivity." The next is Jiang Yanli, who in the background is smiling and looking to the side (gif accenting light blue) and in the foreground is crying and smiling at Wei Wuxian. The text reads, "Temperance," and then, "balance | accommodation | gentleness."

The fifth shows Lan Xichen, who in the background is looking to the side cautiously as Jin Zixun offers Lan Wangji a drink (the gif is accented purple). The foreground shows him speaking seriously. The text reads, "The Emporer," and then "protection | leadership | power." The next shows Lan Sizhui, who in the background is smiling at Wei Wuxian (the gif accented orange) and in the foreground is standing with the wind whipping his hair around. The text reads, "The Sun," and "joy | success | truth."

The seventh shows Luo Qingyang, who in the background is smiling widely (gif accented bright pink) and in the foreground is speaking angrily. The text reads, "The Hanged Man," and then "sacrifice | metamorphosis | discernment." The next shows Wei Wuxian, who in the background is crying as he speaks to the hallucination of his sister (the gif accented deep red) and in the foreground is stalling leaving the room while looking at Lan Wangji. The text reads, "The Tower," and then "broken pride | upheaval | change of life."

The ninth shows Lan Wangji, who in the background is looking up at the sky (the gif accented deep blue) and in the foreground is holding the stick in front of him as punishment. The text reads, "Justice," and then, "fairness | responsibility | virtue." The last shows Wen Qing, who in the background is looking down at a paralyzed Wei Wuxian (gif accented dark red) and in the foreground is standing with a fierce expression. The text reads, "The High Priestess," and then, "science | tenacity | intuition." /end id]

Favorite Characters + Tarot

[insp: x, x, x, x, x] [shl version]

[incorrectcharmingfamilyquotes]

Snow, talking about Emma: She's already had sex.

David: You don't know that!

Snow: She has a child!

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Sparkles in the Dark (Marcus Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: This has some seriously DARK THEMES. Mentions of kidnapping, human trafficking, trauma, child neglect, alcohol abuse.  But i do promise a happy ending.

INSP.: The game Fragile and Little Misfortune.

Song mentioned is Shiny Happy People - Reuben and the Dark x AG cover

It's rare for someone to have a very unfortunate life yet see the good in everything. It takes a lot for someone to find light in the darkness but takes an even more special kind of person to create light in the darkness. 

The cold raindrops ran down your face. The rain was bad that day, clouds smothering every bit of the sky. It was the middle of the afternoon, yet it looked like it was approaching nightfall by the minute. You didn't mind the rain too much, it was the cold. You walked alone down the street, blending with others surrounding you. Some hurrying to get out of the rain, some disgruntled being outside for whatever reason and then there was the few who didn't seem to care about the rain. You didn't leave with a suitable jacket and therefore it took no time for you to become drenched. 

You hadn't noticed someone watching you from across the street. Nor had you noticed when they headed in the same direction. No one else seemed to notice the person either, all too busy wrapped in their own thoughts and lives to take notice. You crossed the road, moving to the opposite street before descending the stairs that lead to under the bridge. A shortcut for you to get home, the stream below the bridge had been drained leaving a dirt path. 

Keeping your eyes to the ground, you hadn't noticed the man standing under the bridge until he moved further into your path, straightening up from leaning under the bridge. You met his gaze, but before you could step back, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned around and with seconds, the man previously in front of you lifted you, covering your mouth. 

Days later, you were added to the streets that were covered in papers of pictures the names of missing children. One of many children who were yet to be found. You were fifteen years old and last seen on school grounds. All surrounding towns and cities were notified, your face littered along with many other children's faces on almost every street and every public property. So many missing children was starting to get much more media attention. Especially as all disappeared under mysterious circumstances. 

As far as police investigation, the same people were likely responsible for these disappearances but each case was growing cold by the day. Your story was a sad one for you were an easier target than some of the kids. Your father was gone, he had been for days and it wasn't any new behaviour. Your father often went away for days at a time. Your mother was an alcoholic. It took a phone call from your school for her to notice she hadn't seen you since the previous morning. Whilst the school claimed you hadn't turned up for school the next day and asking why your mother hadn't called you in sick. It took further questioning from the police when she filed your missing persons report for her to face that she was more than negligent to her only child. The alcohol being her one priority. 

Carlisle and a few others of the Cullen's couldn't help but grimace hearing about the condition of your parents. It only got worse when your neighbours were eager to call out your parents. Some were determined you were dead, your mother probably killing you. Some feeling sympathy for you but not your mother. Others weren't surprised you were gone, hoping you had simply ran away. By that point the darkest of secrets were arising and no one was sure if it were rumour or fact. 

Your mother had made it clear that she had never wanted children. She wasn't maternal and didn't particularly like them to begin with. Her child was no different. She partied and enjoyed the party life. Being a parent, forced her out of that lifestyle and every bottle reminded her of what she was missing. She chased every drink like it was her lifeline and perhaps in her eyes, it was. She was in a relationship with your father who wasn't supposed to be anything but a night of fun. Your grandparents insisted she kept the baby and therefore sealing your mother's fate. 

Your father was an angry man who didn't want to be tied down to anything. He'd always come back the moment where ever he was at would no longer extend it's welcome. With both parents at home, it was no place for a child. 

It's impact upon you was evident but not necessarily in a negative way. You were fifteen but you could be quite child-like with even the simplest of things such as the way you talked. Much like a young child, you saw the best in everyone and everything. The world was beautiful and everyone had good intentions deep down- even if they didn't show it. Whilst you had the intelligence of the average fifteen year old, you were slower at learning. Therefore, required a little more patience. Most would get the impression that you were naive and that was correct. Little did people know that you displayed such behaviour because you had taught yourself. Your parents giving up by the time you had learned manners. 

The only real learning of positive attributes came from your teachers. That being said, you were outcast from your class mates and others your age. You were just a little too different, lost in your own head for anyone to really want to bond with you. Some going as far to think you were a little kid in a teenage body. However it was worth mentioning how kind you were, treating everyone like gold. Even if someone was mean to you, you rarely retaliated. 

Carlisle could barely believe his eyes when he saw you nine months later. You were stood in an alleyway, no one seemed notice you. Once again, the rain was pouring down. He couldn't feel it, but Carlisle knew it was cold outside. Your hands were latched onto one another, tugging your sleeves down on a hoodie that was simply too small. It clung to your body much like your hair did. You looked lost and Carlisle caught on immediately what you were doing. You were waiting for someone. Carlisle had no doubt whoever you were waiting on was bad news. Especially given the cuts, scrapes and bruises littered around your face. He knew he had to do something since no one else would. No one had seen him make his way to that alley, nor did anyone notice when you were suddenly gone. 

The Cullen's were stunned when Carlisle returned home with you. One of the many missing kids. You had been gone for nine months and the investigation was narrowing down the possibility that you were taken into human trafficking or you were dead. Both terrible fates. 

Esme was the first to jump into action with Carlisle, as you shook violently from the cold, your soaking clothes sticking to you. You didn't seem even surprised that you had been taken by Carlisle. You weren't even afraid. "I'm a doctor. I can help you." Carlisle said, tilting your head to look at him as Esme grabbed multiple towels. "(Y/N)? Isn't that your name?" 

It became the topic if many conversations with Carlisle and his family just why he took you instead of taking you to the police or even the hospital. The answer came to Carlisle rather swiftly, despite the debate still on going in his mind. He knew it was wrong. He had basically kidnapped you from your kidnappers and brought you to an unknown location in your eyes. Although with everything he had heard about your parents and the history he had with his own. Carlisle couldn't bring himself to hand you back to them, knowing that your parents had many issues and despite you being missing, they hadn't budged on anything such as regret. They had a hard time convincing anyone that they wanted their child back. In his eyes, he'd have been doing you a disservice and given what he knew of your case, you needed as much support as he could possibly give. Although that still raised the same issue that whilst no one had recognised you then, you couldn't walk around Forks. You would eventually be recognised. It had been one of the most difficult decisions he had ever had to make. 

You clutched Carlisle's hand as the two of you were led to the throne room by Demetri and Felix. You kept your head down, not meeting anyone's eyes. Demetri's eyes were set on you. "Come along." Carlisle said to you quietly, lightly tugging you forward with him "Where are we?" You asked quietly, the two guards instantly hearing your child-like voice with slight surprise. Even Jane sounded older. "We're in Italy." Carlisle responded. "Woah...the country that looks like a boot?" You looked up at him briefly and Carlisle smiled. "Yes, (Y/N)." "Do they need anything?" Demetri asked, casting his gaze to your face. Carlisle recognised that both guards were staring, the injuries in your face still healing and visible. Carlisle turned to you."(Y/N), do you need anything? A glass of water?" "No, thank you." You chirped your gaze falling to the floor. "Thank you." Carlisle nodded to Demetri. 

"Carlisle, dear friend. It's wonderful to see you again." Aro rose from his chair, descending the steps to greet his friend. "Likewise, Aro." Carlisle nodded with a small smile, half the size of Aro's. "This must be the little one you told us about." Aro smiled down at you. You kept your head down. Caius was about to make comment for such insolence but Carlisle was quick to explain. "(Y/N) struggles with being the centre of attention. They'll warm up to you in no time." Carlisle gave Aro his free hand, dropping his grip on you to turn his sole attention to the Volturi leaders. Aro quickly took his hand. You fidgeted with your fingers but your head had begun to lift. Marcus couldn't help but watch you, as did Caius. Marcus stood up, descending the stairs much more calmly than Aro had, approaching you. Your gaze stayed fixed on your fingers. 

Marcus bent down ever so slightly so he wasn't towering over you. "It's very nice to meet you, little one. My name is Marcus. What is your name?" You lifted your eyes to meet his gaze, showing your face fully to him. However he didn't recoil, or stare like you had two heads. He remained encouraging despite being angered by the marks on your face. "I'm (Y/N)." You replied. "That's a wonderful name." Marcus replied before looking over his shoulder to look at Caius but nod towards you at the same time. Signalling for him to come and meet you. Caius sighed but stood up and made his way towards you. "Do you like it here?" Marcus asked you, his eyes moved to you. "It's very pretty! I liked the lanterns down the street." "I'm glad you like it. Lanterns you say?" "Yes, they're red and all down the street. Didn't you see them?" Marcus cracked a slight smile. "I'm afraid I don't go outside very often, my dear. I haven't seen them." Marcus gestured to Caius. "This is my brother Caius as well as my brother, Aro." "You don't look alike." You noted. "Not by blood." Caius responded. "We have spent a lot of years together, that is what makes us brothers." "Do you have any brothers or sisters (Y/N)?" Marcus asked. "No." You responded. "My mum didn't want kids. When I came along she was very upset and said I ruined her life." It wasn't a nice thing to say, nor should anyone ever say such things to their child. Yet you smiled at them as though it was normal, like talking about the weather. Even Caius couldn't keep a scowl upon his face, the shock of a statement making those in the room falter. Aro broke away from Carlisle. "Why don't we take go and take this in a more comfortable place? I believe we have much to talk about." 

"I realized they couldn't stay with me when I discovered they were gifted. As you saw, such a gift can't be hidden nor is (Y/N) one to be held back in such ways." Carlisle said to the three leaders, now in Aro's personal study. "Yes, I believe this to be the case friend." Aro pondered. "However, as you have said before. This child has endured many things children shouldn't. Can you say for certain they'd do well in our care?" "I believe that with the amount of guards and amongst your coven that (Y/N) will have the support they need. The require stability, a safe place they can be themselves above anything." 

Aro moved towards you on the other side of the room, kneeling in front of your sitting form. "Might I have your hand, little one? I have a gift to see your mind with touch." You looked uncertain at first before holding out your hand. He took it carefully, hoping not to startle you. "I see you have a gift too." He mustered a smile which made Caius and Marcus very wary. "I make things sparkle! I make them happy!" You replied cheerfully. "Oh? Can you show me?" You held your hand up, palm down and level with your forehead. With a wiggle of your fingers gold sparkles twinkled down. "That's beautiful and it makes people happy?" “I wave my hand and whatever the sparkles touch becomes happy. I brought happiness to the soup i had for dinner once!" You grinned waving your hand over Aro's head, the sparkles landed on him. To his surprise he felt it, like a quick sharp sting of something hot but it oddly was so small it wasn't unpleasant. However he couldn't deny the overwhelming amount of happiness he felt. It reminded him of Didyme. He couldn't help but grow more and more fond of your ability. 

As Marcus, Caius, Aro and Carlisle spoke further about you possibly being in their care as well as your difficult past, Demetri and Felix were sent to show around the castle. Making sure you knew the layout of the place. It had been going well. You were a pleasant human to be around. However, the two guards were stunned again when showing you the dungeons. You wanted to go in and see and thankfully, it was empty so the two agreed. "You won't be allowed down here. It's not safe." Felix told you as they followed you down the stone steps. You looked around the cells. The place significantly darker than anywhere else in the castle, some corners and walls weren't even visible. Shadows overtaking the room. The left wall caught your attention. The stone walls not visible due to the lack of light and stone floor. You pressed against the bars of the cell. "That looks like my room." You said aloud. The two guards were alarmed both looking between you and the cell. "Your room back with your parents?" Felix asked, the two guards coming to either side of you. You shook your head. "No. The room with those people." They two caught on. The people who had taken you. "You were held in somewhere like this? With bars?" "No bars, it wasn’t a cell. It was a long room, with stone walls and floors. About the size of this corridor and these three cells put together." You said simply. The two guards were in disbelief with how nonchalant you were speaking about being held hostage. "There were other kids there, most were younger than me. The kids before put tally marks on the walls, we could only see them in daylight. They left notes too." "The kids before you got there?" Demetri asked. "Yes. Some of us were there for months, some only days." "Where did they go?" Felix asked softly and you shrugged. "Probably dead." "Are you afraid? When you think of that place and see this place now?" "I'm used to the dark...although i don’t like it." You responded. "This place isn't so bad though. Carlisle said you guys might take care of me." "That's true." Felix responded. "Which is why you don't have to fear this place, or us. We won't hurt you." 

The rest of the tour was light-hearted. Or at least it was to you. Whilst watching you be in awe with the decor and every tiny detail of the castle, what you had said in the dungeons had stuck in the two guards minds. The two each sharing looks every now and then hoping to ease the discomfort. Of course the incident was reported back to the leaders but no one pushed you further on it. 

 Eventually the decision was to keep you under their care. The world was cruel and if anyone could shield you from it, it was the Volturi. Although not everyone was so enamored with you. The twins held no interest in you and no interest of being kind either. Caius was slowly but surely warming up to having you around. Everyone else was somewhat kind or enamored with you. Thinking you were the most wonderful child they had even known. Marcus being the most fond of you of them all. He couldn't describe the instinct to protect you nor could he stop himself either. Whilst Aro had seen inside your head and knew what you had thought and felt your whole life, none of the leaders thought it healthy for you to keep it bottled up. Therefore they asked that if it was on your mind, draw it, write it, speak to them about it. Caius was the first to see this in action. You had a nightmare the night before and so you drew what had been on your mind ever since that dream. 

When you gave it to Caius, he was silent for a while, looking at the drawing. You had drawn the room you were held in. The place pitch black, tally marks on the walls and hay. "Did you dream you were back there last night?" Caius asked. You shook your head. "No. That was something else, I was just thinking about it today." "Alright, what did you dream about last night?" Caius tugged you to him gently before looking down at your drawing in his hands. "I tried to escape once." You admitted flatly. "I got out of the room and it took them fifteen minutes to find me. When they did, they set their big dogs on me. They bit me, made me bleed. That nightmare always ends the same, their sharp teeth sinking into my arms and legs and pulling me around, their saliva going everywhere." Caius' eyes were on you at the mention alone of dogs. His hatred for them going beyond just wolves and to any large dog. You rolled up your sleeves revealing puncture scars across your arms. "They train those dogs to do that you know. The guard dogs? Those dogs in particular were trained to make you bleed. I was told if I ever did it again, I'd be dead before I knew it." Caius lightly trailed a finger across the scars. Recalling his own scars from the sinking of teeth. "I am afraid of those dogs but I feel bad because those people could be very mean to them too." Caius slowly took your wrists into his hands. "You don't need to be afraid of them, or those people. They'll never hurt you again. I was attacked by wolves. I hunted every last one of them. So don't live in fear of the dogs or the people who own them. You're safe now and we won't let anything happen to you." Caius noted the relief in your eyes. 

A few around you wondered if you were having a difficult day. Drawing, as you always did, just the movement of your hands seemingly being enough to distract you. However these weren’t the gentle scraping of pencil against paper they were used to. Demetri and Felix turned their heads at the quickening of your scribbling along with the quickening of your heartbeat. Your breathing became shallowed. Suddenly you were pressing too hard on the paper, your actions more violent.  “Hey...hey.” Felix said, lifting your hands off the page. He had crouched to your level on the floor and Demetri followed suit, a hand on your back. You’re expression was empty but your eyes could only be described as empty.  “You’re okay, kiddo.” Felix said. “Why don’t we take a walk, hm?” Demetri asked. Slowly you nodded and Felix helped you up. 

The TV caught your eye passing another of the many living rooms. You found Afton, Alec and Chelsea in the room.  “Would you like to say hello?” Demetri asked and you nodded before walking in with or without Demetri and Felix.  “Hello, sweetheart.” Chelsea smiled at you. However the TV had your attention. You got closer to the TV, immediately kneeling on the floor.  “Not too close, little one.” Demetri warned. “You’ll hurt your eyes.” Whether you heard him remained unknown. You seemed to recognise the song on the TV. The Volturi guards watched you.  “They must  recognise this song.” Chelsea stated.  “We certainly don’t.” Alec grumbled.  ‘Gold and silver shine...’  “Well would you look at that.” Felix smiled as the group noticed you began to relax your shoulders.  “Do you like this song, sweetness?” Chelsea smiled again. You didn’t answer but the soft smile growing on your face told them their answer.  ‘shiny happy people holding hands.’ At first they thought it was the TV reflecting off of you. However they quickly realised this wasn’t the case. ‘shiny happy people holding hands.’ The group couldn’t believe it, you were glowing before their very eyes, just like your gift but like it couldn’t be contained. They could only stare and after a few seconds it faded, you were back to normal.  ‘shiny happy people laughing.’  “Well would you look at that?” Felix grinned at the other vampires. Little did you know, they made sure to note it down. 

Before the guards even had the opportunity to tell the leaders what they had discovered, the leaders witnessed it for themselves as you began to glow whilst clinging to Marcus tightly in a hug, grinning up at him. It had left Marcus in complete awe. A warmth in his heart.  “How lovely.” Aro smiled. “Marcus needed that today I assure you, (Y/N).” You looked over at him in silent questioning as Marcus sighed, sending Aro a look.  “Are you sad today?” You asked looking back up at Marcus.  “It’s nothing to worry about, dear. I assure you.” Marcus said simply. You jumped as you waved your hand over Marcus' head. "Tada! Sparkly happiness for Marcus!" You grinned with pride. He felt it as soon as the sparks landed on him, an uplifting sensation that he hadn't felt in a long time. The same sensation he knew to be his beloved Didyme's gift. He felt a smile tug at his lips. "Thank you, dear. That's very kind of you." "You don't need to be sad!" You smiled brightly. It felt like a gift you hadn't even known you had given him. It was a gift to feel that happiness. Of that, he was sure. 

“I need you to watch (Y/N).” Marcus said, walking towards Caius. “Excuse me?” Caius raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t require assistance.” Marcus said simply. Before you could run off, he took your wrist before looking back at Caius expectantly. “I was going to visit Athenodora.” Caius said stiffly. “Then do so, take them with you. Athenodra hasn’t met them yet.” Marcus didn’t leave Caius any room to argue as he literally guided to towards Caius before he hurried past, telling you to behave over his shoulder. 

Caius sighed, his hand covering his face. "Well there goes my plan for today." "Plan? What plan!?" You asked brightly. "I was going to visit my wife before Marcus brought you to me." Caius replied. You gasped in excitement. "In the tower!? Like the princess in Rapunzel!?" "Yes, a tower. Although we use stairs." Caius grumbled. "Then let's go!" you jumped up from your seat and skipped out of the room. "I shouldn't have said anything." Caius groaned but felt you hadn't given him much choice to refuse. "At least try to contain yourself! Don't wander off from me, (Y/N)!" Caius called out, hurrying after you. 

"Hello, Afton!" You grinned at the man guarding the stairs to the tower. He smiled down at you in return with a quick hello. "Caius is taking me to see his wife!" "Reluctantly." Caius grumbled from behind you as Afton curtly bowed his head to Caius, allowing you both entry. You panted. "Ugh! So many stairs!" That was when you hurried in. "No, wait for-" Caius cut himself off with a frustrated sigh as you dived into the room without waiting for him or even so much as knocking before entering. 

Athenodora immediately giggled, stepping out of your way as you rushed towards the piano. "Cool piano!" As though testing it to be real, you played a couple of keys. "No! Don't touch that, I don't want you to break it." Caius chastised you hurriedly. "Who's this?" Athenodora smiled widely, Caius immediately noticing how her face lit up seeing you. "This is the human I've been telling you about. This is (Y/N). I intended to visit myself, cara mia but Marcus left me with them unexpectedly." Caius responded. You suddenly gasped, hurrying towards a gold horse displayed upon in of the tables in the room. "Whoa! He just needs a horn and then he's the best unicorn in the world!" You declared. "Don't touch that either, if you break it- I will never forgive you!" Caius said hurriedly as he moved towards you. Athenodora was absolutely enamored with you yet Caius looked as though seconds away from having a heart attack. You waved your hand above the gold horse. "Happy unicorn!" Little sparks rained down in the horse as you grinned, as though you could see something the others couldn't. Athenodora gasped, covering her mouth. "They're gifted!" "It's not that useful." Caius grumbled. You hurried over to the window. "How far up are we?" Immediately Caius blocked you from the window. "No, you don't go near windows whilst in here. I can't trust you with those either.” He steered you back into the middle of the room. "Do you play games in here?" You looked up at Caius. "No." Caius said firmly. "Come and meet my wife properly, it's rude not to." 

Athenodora smiled at you warmly. "Hello miss! Your dress is very pretty!" You smiled at her. "Hello, sweetheart. Thank you. It's so wonderful to meet you. How old are you?" "Fifteen!" You declared and Athenodora looked taken aback slightly, expecting you to respond with something a little younger. She had thought you were simply a little taller for your age. "I'll explain later, my love." Caius mumbled quietly, so quiet you couldn't hear him. "They have had a difficult childhood." Athenodora looked saddened by this but before the two could say anything else, your attention was brought to Athenodora's vanity which held her make up. You peered at yourself in the mirror. You picked up the red lipstick. "My mum had this same shade of lipstick." You said mostly to yourself. "She said it was for grown ups only. It was always on the cups around the house." You giggled. Athenodora and Caius moved closer. "Do you like make-up?" Athenodora asked and you wore a small smile. "A little. Mum said I wasn't allowed to touch it but I used to watch her put it on, sometimes to cover bruises." Athenodora's smile faltered, swallowing hard at the angelic smile you wore as you revealed something so dark it was then that Athenodora knew that Caius was being very cautious with his wording, especially around you.  "How about one day, I'll do your make up?" Athenodora offered with a small smile, immediately eager to cast away such an awful memory and replace it with a better one. Your eyes lit up, smile widened. "I would love that!" 

One day, Alec was leaning against the wall as you left the room. "Hello, Alec!" You said cheerfully. Alec's head turned towards you. Instead of giving a response, he rolled his eyes and focused on the ceiling. You swung slightly back and forth on your feet, clasping your hands before you. "It's not nice to ignore people." You said simply. Alec sighed. "How's your halo?" He turned his again again to sneer at you, his voice dripping in sarcasm. This time you didn't respond, giving him a look of slight confusion but remaining polite about it. "You're insufferable. Do you know that?" Alec asked. You said nothing and he continued. "I just called you insufferable and you just stand there smiling at me like an idiot." "Would you rather I was mean to you? I don't mind if you're mean to me Alec. You wouldn't be the first." "I don't care." Alec sneered again. You stared at him and it provoked Alec to continue. "Anything that's good will end and break in this world. Any who think otherwise are an idiot. You’re the worst of them all. You know how cruel the world can be yet you prance around like you don’t.”  The twins had made it clear they weren’t your biggest fans. Or at least that’s what everyone had thought. 

One night, Alec was distracted by your pounding heart. You room was right across from his so your heartbeat had become something he grew used to. Although it was pounding out of your chest. Alec decided he'd check in, it's be his own fault if something happened and he simply ignored it. He opened your door, peeking into your room. He was surprised to discover you weren't in bed. It was then he noticed you were standing with your back pressed against the wall, staring at nothing. Alec moved into the room and into your line of sight. "(Y/N)? Are you alright?" Alec asked. You stared on blankly at him, not giving a response. You didn't have an expression on your face, yet Alec knew deep down something had scared you. Your pounding heartbeat being his only clue. 

The three leaders turned to their left to see Alec with a look of unease. "Master, I think something is wrong with (Y/N)." That's all it took. Marcus was immediately standing and following Alec. The other two leaders following behind them. 

When Alec returned with the leaders, you hadn't moved an inch, still staring at nothing. "(Y/N)?" Marcus promoted gently as the two leaders stood by the door, watching on. "Come here, my dear." He said softly, analysing even the tiniest move you made. Your eyes drifted to the floor as you took a couple of heavy steps. Although you stopped halfway towards him. Your eyes on Marcus this time. Marcus could see the exhaustion in your eyes. It wasn't from how late the night was. This exhaustion was something Marcus knew well. An exhaustion behind someone's eyes who has suffered. 

Without hesitation Marcus moved forward and immediately pulled you into his arms. "I'm here, sweetheart." Marcus said to you. He held you just as a father would to reassure his child. Caius turned on a light and your heart began to slow. Silent tears ran down your face as Marcus held you.  Aro lightly touched your hand. "Alec, why don't you stay with young (Y/N) until they get back to sleep, hm?" If Alec wanted to refuse Aro, it didn't show. "Brothers, I believe we have matters to discuss. We shall keep the door open." Aro didn't explain himself until back in the throne room. 

"What is the meaning of this?" Caius was the first to ask. "I believe I must inform you of what I saw." It had been the darkness that brought you back to that dark place. Being left underground for hours without any to little light source messed with everyone's head. Except for the adults. The got to come and go whilst the children were left in the dark. You could hear the sobs of some children, others had began to laugh at empty spaces in front of them, their mind trying to make up for the lack of stimulation. The occasional dog barking ringing through. In your eyes, you weren't in your room. You couldn't see that or anything else. Except for the monster that had found you. It was skinny and tall, hunched over on all fours. Teeth large, only it's jaw being in proportion to it. It's eyes had sunken in, the sockets dark. Dark hair, fine and long, hung down it's head, some locks hanging over its face. Finally, it was covered in black cloth. It growled and huffed at you, the sounds a large dog would make. It beckoned you forward and you hesitated. However the fear of what would happen if you didn't was enough of a convincing argument to at least meet it half way. Although you didn't dare go the full way. The monster didn't seem to like that much. It charged, running towards you with all fours, long dark nails scraping at the ground. Those nails you were certain would rip you apart. The choice was clear you either fought it with everything you had or you let it take you. You didn't want to die, you didn't want anything to do with what that monster had planned for you. Just like you had at the beginning when the grownups took you. You learned quickly not to try and fight them. If you had to be honest with yourself, if it was the last thing you'd ever do, you were tired of fighting. In that moment your decision was made. You closed your eyes, afraid but accepting of your end.  However you felt no pain, only a strong grip on you. "I'm here, sweetheart." Your eyes snapped open, recognising the voice. You felt the black fabric of clothes against your face. You did your best to see just what the monster was doing, clutching to you in such a way. Then you realised it wasn't a monster at all. It was Marcus. 

Marcus' brow was furrowed, angry at your kidnappers. This was the most brutal way they could have ever discovered you were afraid of the dark. Yet they couldn't blame you. "They're not to be left alone in the dark. They are not to be in the dark at all." Marcus said firmly. "Brother, our best course of action is to expose them to the dark, show them that they do not need to fear. Help them re-associate darkness with less harmful memories." Caius disagreed. "They were not asleep." Marcus retorted. "Aro didn't describe to us a dream. (Y/N) was awake. They were hallucinating that my approaching them was a monster coming to hurt them! That isn't a simple fear, that is trauma." "If we protect them from this, their fear will be reinforced." "Caius, I have allowed you to do as you please for centuries. I think it best that you keep that in mind and respect my words. They will not, under any circumstances, be in the dark. At night, their door stays open with a light in the hall. If they must be in the dark, it won't ever be alone. They will not be permitted to be in the dungeons at all." Caius said nothing, Marcus didn't leave much room to argue. Instead, Caius sent a look to Aro. Marcus knew the two had a conversation away from his ears with that look alone. Regardless he didn't care. If anyone were to deal with your well being, it was going to be Marcus. 

After half an hour, Alec was confident you were completely asleep. He turned his head to look at you. He had laid beside you on the bed, neither of you saying a word. Seemingly you just drifted off to sleep somewhat with ease. The door had been left open, a stream of light poking through. Demetri and Felix nudged the door open ever so slightly, nodding to Alec. The two had been sent to dismiss him. He had permission to leave you. Alec was careful to get up, trying not to wake you. By the time he got to the door, Felix had began to close it behind Alec. "Don't close their door." Alec said quickly, making Felix stop in his tracks. He looked into your room before back at Felix. "They don't like that." Alec left the door ajar, allowing some light to peer through. 

You had been quiet the next day, keeping to yourself. However Marcus didn’t press you. Something within him made him stay silent. Perhaps you needed that, some time where you could simply be and not have to explain yourself. You had been drawing, squiggling every now and then. Perhaps your mind was also going in those same circles. “People think i’m weird.” You mumbled. “What?” Marcus tilted his head. “I see the way people look at me here. They wonder why I smile when I was...” You trailed off, unable to say the words. However Marcus knew. Since you were kidnapped. Marcus lightly reached over and took your hand. You met his soft gaze. "You see moments, lots of them. You live in the present and see the beautiful in the even the darkest of places." Marcus spoke. "That is beautiful. That ability is what life is all about. Capturing and living moments. Yet there are very few who stop to really take in their surroundings.” Marcus lightly squeezed your hand before speaking quieter, his next words only for you. "Some things you just can't speak about." He said. "I know that better than anyone, my dear.” You blinked but it was clear on your face that you understood him. “I think my mum and dad got their happy ending.” You said quietly. “They don’t have me to hold them back. They can live how they want to without having to look after me.” “What about you?” Marcus asked. “Do you think you got your happy ending?” Marcus asked. You smiled brightly, almost seeming relieved. “Yes.”

Caius approached Marcus, finding serious concern with you and his treatment of you. “I think you should be more strict. Show that they are expected to act a certain way.”  “I believe we are past the era where children are expected to act like adults. Don’t you think? Why not let the children be children?” Marcus responded, turning to face Caius.  “It’s not in their benefit.” Caius argued.  “(Y/N) isn’t an ordinary child and the last thing they need is expectations laid upon them. Not after what they’ve been through, what could have happened to them! They need support- not expectations.” "Marcus," Caius said lowly. "They nearly an adult, fifteen years of age but you're treating them as though they're under ten." "I am not!" Marcus insisted. "Showing patience is not undermining their age, Caius." "You mustn't coddle them!" Caius shot back. "They cannot be sheltered from gr-" "Caius, I think you'll find that in their few years of life, they haven't been sheltered enough." Marcus interrupted. "(Y/N) has been through more than any child should have to and if they act a little younger than their age to cope then so be it. I will not allow anyone in this coven to give them a difficult time because right now they need a safe place to be themselves! A child!" "Don't you think we see what's happening? We know they're like Didyme but believe it or not, (Y/N) isn't Didyme!" Caius argued and Marcus' eyes grew darker. "I am perfectly aware of who (Y/N) is and Didyme has nothing to do with this! She was my mate and she is dead! (Y/N) is a happy child who has been deprived of every necessity you could think of. Don't you dare imply to me that my loss blinds me of what's best for (Y/N). That I went to live in a fantasy that my Didyme had returned to me!" "Marcus, we have every reason to wonder why you are so attached to (Y/N) who just so happens to exhibit similar traits to Didyme!" Caius snapped. "Because I care about their wellbeing as though they were my own!" Marcus shouted taking the two by surprise. He took a breath in the silence. Caius' mouth agape. "Excuse me?" "You would know better than anyone here the pain that comes with loss and what could have been." Marcus said. "Don't..." Caius warned, his mouth clenching shut. "I know you well enough to know if anyone understood, it would be you." Marcus continued. "I have no doubt you'd be in the same position if a child like Athenodora came into your life . If the two of you could parent a child just as you've always wanted." Caius took a step back, swallowing a hiss. "Marcus, enough!" Marcus stepped closer. "Didyme would have wanted (Y/N) in a heartbeat. They can be so alike it's frightening. I know Didyme would have loved them. I'm so certain that even in another life, (Y/N) would be our child. They were born to humans who didn't care for them and lived their whole life smiling in the face of misery. I won't tolerate another minute of that. I have the power to change that and I am using it." Caius was quiet for a moment, staring at Marcus. "You consider them to be your child?" He finally asked. "That is the bond we have." Marcus answered. "Then what do you intend to do with them? They cannot remain human regardless. You will honestly tolerate them acting younger than their age knowing it could give them more bother?" "(Y/N) needs much guidance and support after all of this. I will always protect them, Caius. They'll always be a child regardless of how they behave. As long as they're safe, happy and healthy, I can deal with the rest." Caius sighed, his jaw still clenched tight. "It might not be too late for them to change their behaviour. It is all I meant by it, brother. They're fifteen and act like they are barely twelve. Surely the best thing is to try to correct this for their benefit." "Caius, you can't will such things away." Marcus responded. "It could hurt them more trying to change their behaviour after all of this. You must keep in mind that this is what their brain has done to survive such an existence. They act a little younger but they're stronger than half of our guards combined with the hell they've went through. Childish, perhaps but it could be so much worse brother. You know that." "I do. You should know we will do our best to support the child as we have since they got here. However if this is the path you want to take, you must be upfront about it- to everyone." 

Marcus watched you as you watched the TV. It was nightfall, and he had hoped the TV would be enough to distract you. Yet reality sank in quickly. He knew that it wouldn’t distract you long. You hadn’t even realised Marcus had left, so engrossed in the TV until he called your name. You turned to see a clear jar in his hands.  “Let’s try something.” He said softly. “I think i have thought of a solution for the dark. You told me that your gift disappears when it falls, yes?” You nodded. “Why don’t we try to put some of the light in this jar? We can see how long it lasts whilst in the dark.” You looked almost uncertain. “I’ll be with you, my dear. If it doesn’t then i’ll turn the lights back on.” Slowly you nodded, holding your hands out for the jar. 

When Marcus turned out the lights silence and darkness filled the room. Your breath changing. “I’m still with you, darling.” Marcus said softly. “I’m right here.” Within the dark room the jar began to glow. Inside the jar was filled with nothing but light, illuminating on your face and hands. You grinned, raising the jar to your eye level. Happiness gleamed upon your face. It was a childish glee that was filled with innocence. Marcus couldn't understand it. How someone who had endured so much pain and rejection could project so much love and light. His imagination ran wild as he pictured you no longer smiling, eyes set on him with a look of distress. Your once spotless clothes now covered in dirt and dust. Looking ill, with minor scrapes and bruises. The condition you had been found. 

One day, you come to Marcus’ private study. Your visit was unexpected but welcome. Although you seemed distracted, your eyes boring into him. "Can I ask you something?" You asked quietly and calmly. Marcus immediately turned to you, surprised by the tone. "Of course, come sit." You moved to the chair beside his desk as he hovered over his desk looking for something amongst the paper. You were silent for a moment, nervous. "It's alright, you can ask me anything." Marcus said to you, not looking at you but instill listening intently as he searched his desk. "Can I call you dad?" Marcus froze, his eyes widened. He turned his head to meet your wide eyes, filled with emotion and clearly nervous. Whilst you shared the bond, it had never been said and Marcus had no intention of doing so until you were ready. "I think my mum and dad would be happier without me, they can go their separate ways without having to stay together for me. I want that for them. Mum said some people just aren't compatible and I'm okay with that. I'm happy here and I think you're what a dad is supposed to be like." Marcus was silent for a moment before his had reached for your cheek. "Nothing would make me happier, my dear." He said quietly. You immediately hugged him tightly and he hugged you back. He would have cried if he could. He could feel it. 

Some months had passed. The Cullen’s were met with the Volturi once more. Just outside their territory. However, they made the Cullen’s certain they had no reason to fear. They were passing through and a certain someone wanted to say hello. Carlisle didn’t need three guesses as to who. 

Carlisle smiled at you as you tightly held Marcus’ hand, just as you held his when Carlisle brought you to the Volturi. It was clear Marcus wouldn’t let you out of sight. However, Carlisle was in awe of how much better you looked. You were much healthier looking, even a little taller. Your clothes fit you perfectly and you didn’t have even a scratch or bruise on you. Your hair had been cut.   “Hello, again.” Carlisle smiled at you warmly. “Hi Carlisle!” You chirped happily with a wide smile.  “Off on an adventure?” Carlisle asked you lightly. You grinned. “I’m going to sneak up on people and say ‘Hand over your wallets! Bang! Bang!’“ You held up finger guns at nothing, finally able to break Marcus’ hold on you. However, Marcus immediately had a hand on your shoulder, holding you back before you could run off.  “You will do no such thing.” Marcus told you before looking at Carlisle with a small smile. “Felix taught them that one.” Carlisle chuckled. “They look to be doing well.” 

You broke away from Marcus again but he seemed to allow it seeing you bound up to Afton.  “Hand over your wallet! Bang Bang!” You motioned with hand guns again. A small smile grew on Afton’s face before he raised his hands in ‘surrender’. “Okay, don’t hurt me.” He said with a small smile at your pitiful attempt of hiding your identity with your hood.  “It’s okay Afton, it’s just me!” You announced brightly, tugging your hood down, once again revealing your face.  Suddenly Afton was no longer in sight. You looked around in confusion before screeching in laughter when you were grabbed, Afton reappearing with a grip on your body with one arm, pretending to bite you. 

Marcus smiled slightly once more, turning to Carlisle. “I believe they are much better. Although I am uncertain if I should be doing more considering their traits, shall we say?” Carlisle knew immediately Marcus was referring to your childish nature, acting younger than you actually were. Carlisle nodded. “Some things are irreversible. From what I know, (Y/N) has always been this way. However, there’s no definitive answer. It’s clear you’re taking good care of them. They’re not the same child I found.” Marcus seemed to take comfort in this, reassured as he looked over for his child. “(Y/N)!” He called out to you. “Come and say goodbye. We need to go.” You walked back to Marcus and Carlisle with a smile. 

To Carlisle’s surprise you crossed the territory and hugged Carlisle.  “Thank you for helping me.” You mumbled. Carlisle hugged you back. “You’re welcome. Stay safe and do as Marcus says, alright?” You nodded before breaking away, going back to Marcus who took your hand.  “Let’s go, dad!” You tugged at Marcus who softly smiled at your futile attempts to move him. Carlisle, on the other hand looked surprised. Marcus met his gaze with a small smile and nodded in confirmation. 

As the Volturi moved on, Marcus had you on his mind. He did as he said he would, as he dedicated his very heart and soul- if he had one- to ensure you’d have a happier life. Carlisle’s words gave him encouragement and reassurance he was doing a good job. Perhaps what Carlisle didn’t realise was that you weren’t solely dependent on him. 

In his eyes,  Marcus needed them and they needed him the same. They were a light that reminded him of a light he lost long ago. It wasn't identical, but it was pretty close. Marcus didn't need it to be the same. He just needed the light that they radiated so easily. They needed Marcus just as much and the rest of the Volturi for that matter. A safe place to shine, where their was acceptance and an abundance of uniqueness. A stability the world hadn't given before. 

[spencerreidscoffeecup]

Daydreams Turn to Reality

INSP by @  imagining-in-the-margins one shot!! <3​

Summary: Autistic! Reader has a meltdown at the office.. Thankfully, her teammate Dr. Spencer Reid was nearby to help.

CW: Sensory overload, Autistic meltdown, crying, mentions to weight of reader (spencer picks her up), grinding

AN: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this one-shot! I have been in a deep depressive state for a few weeks, but I finally am feeling better to start writing again.. Aka start writing more chapters for "Beautifully Broken"! Love you all! <3

Word Count: 4800

--

Spencer's POV:

Ever since I was young, I have had an active imagination.

Perhaps it was the myriad of books my mother had read to me every night before bed. Or maybe it was the fact that my daydreams had always been better than my real life.

But that's what daydreams are, right? An escape from the real-world to a better reality.

Up until the moment that I met her, I had only ever found myself dreaming of dragons and aliens. Sure, I had my visions of a happier life, but I really only dreamt of preternatural creatures. However now, I found myself only dreaming of her.

I mean, how could I not?

She was perfect.

Her voice sounded of wind chimes on a warm, breezy summer afternoon. Like soft strings being strung by a violinist. Her voice moved like honey; slow and sweet, and always sticking to me. Her laugh sounded like the most ethereal ring, a certain stubborn blush always rising up my face once I heard the noise. And don't even get me started on how beautiful she was. She looked like the golden, joyous rays of sunshine that shone through the clouds on a previously rainy and cold day; immediately filling your senses with warmth and light. She smelled of sticky cinnamon buns, sweet Georgia peaches, and laundry just pulled out of the dryer. She lit up any dull room with her alacrity; her energy was palpable.. It was also contagious.

Any aloof person that would never smile, seemed to have a brighter life whenever she entered into their vicinity.

I dreamt of what it would be like to kiss her. How would her lips feel against mine? Would the kiss move like her voice; slow and sweet? Or would it match her giddy energy and be stuttery and erratic? Maybe both?

These thoughts always seemed to take up every square inch of my mind, every minute of every single day.

In the past, I may have dreamt of fictional creatures, but now I was dreaming of fictional scenarios with the angelic woman that sat in front of me at her desk every day.

I tried to show her how much I was falling for her every minute I could, however, she was like me when it came to social cues. Clueless. Completely clueless.

So, I showed her my affection through small plush toys.

They seemed to always comfort the girl whenever her anxiety would peak. Not to mention how excited and cute she got when I gifted her the stuffed animals.

She would let me know how she was feeling through colors, and when she was seemingly having a tough day, for instance when she told me she felt red, I went out on my lunch break later that day and purchased an red bunny rabbit plush for her.

Once I gifted her the toy, her face lit into a crimson blush, almost as red as the stuffed animal. She smiled and gave me a hug. That was the first time she initiated contact with me.

Ever since then, she was very touchy-feely towards me, which inevitably fueled my growing love for the beautiful girl.

Today, she walked, no, ran into the bullpen, her headphones resting around her neck as she clutched her bag, walking to her desk.

Butterflies fluttered in my belly and chest as I felt myself beginning to blush.

"Spencer!" she squealed, running to my desk, a smile spread across her face.

"Hello!" I exclaimed.

"Guess what?"

"What?" I laughed at her excitement.

"Garcia brought in homemade muffins!"

I gasped, Y/n giggling at my dramatics.

"Bet you I can beat you to the last blueberry one," she smirked, a mischievous look glinting in her dazzling eyes.

"Oh, it's on!" I squinted my eyes at her, standing up from my desk.

She laughed, the sound making my brain fuzzy for a moment as I didn't even realize she began to run off. I ran after her, grabbing her by the waist and picking her up as I set her down behind me, my name falling from her mouth between giggles as I ran off.

Moments later, we both made it to Garcia's office, our heavy breathing causing the quirky woman in front of us to widen her eyes in concern. She walked up to Y/n, completely ignoring me as she cradled the giggling girl's face.

Y/n was only comfortable with Garcia and me touching her--especially me. That's why Penelope only held her face, Y/n was only comfortable with that sort of contact from her, as well as a hug but nothing more. However I, on the other hand, was allowed to hug, touch, and carry her. The fact that she was completely comfortable with me made my crush grow.

I was happy that I was a comfort person for the young girl. Not only did it make me ecstatic, but it also made her feel over the moon at the fact that she was growing.

"Oh, my goodness! Are you okay?" Garcia asked, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Y/n laughed, causing my small smile to stretch into a toothy-grin.

"Yep! We just came for the muffins!" Y/n explained, and Garcia nodded knowingly, a small chuckle escaping her throat as she let go of the girl and picked up the large plate that smelled of delicious, freshly baked sweets.

I grabbed the last blueberry muffin before Y/n, a small whine escaping her throat. She looked up at me with her starry eyes, a pleading look on her face. Truthfully, I was going to give her the muffin in the end. However she didn't need to know that.

I smiled, presenting her with the muffin as she giggled happily, her arms slinging around my neck as I took in her intoxicatingly sweet scent.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she blabbered, biting into the muffin and humming happily as she skipped away. "Bye, Spencer! Bye, Penny!" she called, waving to me as she turned the corner.

"Bye!" Penelope and I both called back, a smile gracing my lips as I looked fondly at the corner she had just rounded, as if she was still there.

I was so entranced by the girl that I totally forgot Garcia stood in front of me with a smirk on her face.

"What?" I asked.

'"'What?'" She mocked my voice, smiling smugly at me. "What do you mean, what? You are in lo-ove with Prettygirl over there!" Garcia sang, and I immediately felt my face get warm.

"Wh-? I am not in-in love!" I squeaked, and Garcia laughs, humming a quick sure.

I walk away quickly, thanking Garcia for the muffin.

I am definitely in love with Y/n.

How could I not be?

Shit.

--

Around lunchtime, I began to notice that Y/n grew anxious, her face strewn together in worry.

The sight made my heart squeeze in my chest.

She mostly kept her head down, except her eyes kept on flicking around the room hastily. She gulped a few times, fidgeting with a rubber band and a pencil; the pencil acting as a pick to strum the stretched band that looped around her fingers in a triangle shape.

I wanted to go up and ask if she needed any assistance, however I didn't want to make anything worse than it already was... or overwhelm her more.

"Reid! Can I see you in my office for a moment? I just want to make sure you got the correct files from the case last week." Hotch announced from his office.

I glanced at Y/n, who's eyes flickered up at mine, a pleading look lacing her facial expressions.

I reluctantly stood up from my desk, nodding my head at Hotch as I walked up the stairs to his office, telephones sounding throughout the BAU.

I could understand how she felt overwhelmed. Heck, I felt overwhelmed a lot of the time. Between the sounds of pencils scratching on paper, the incessant sound of coffee brewing, computers clacking, files being flipped through, phones ringing and people chatting.. It can be very anxiety inducing as well as just an overwhelming environment to work and be in..Especially when you are on the spectrum.

However, Hotch closed the door behind him, separating me from the beautiful--but anxious girl that sat at her desk, fidgeting away, her head twitching slightly.

-

As Hotch and I were about to finish our meeting, we both heard a loud cry. My heart began to race. I knew that cry.

A year ago, Y/n had a meltdown in a cafe. It was really upsetting for her and she struggled to leave her apartment for weeks.

I ran out, Hotch following behind me.

JJ, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia all huddled around Y/n's desk, however, Y/n was not sitting in her chair, rather, she was huddled underneath the table; her knees pressed up against her chest as she pressed her palms against her ears as she cried.

I ran over, the team's faces scrunched in concern and confusion.

"Spence! I-I don't know what happened! One minute she was at her desk, and then I dropped a coffee cup and she started to scream and cry." JJ stammered, running her fingers through her hair.

As she spoke, I heard the crying girl repeat two words over and over.

Too much, too much, too much.

My heart sank in my chest. "It's alright, it wasn't your fault, okay? She was just overwhelmed." I reassured the blonde, who exhaled shakily, nodding.

I turned back to the girl who began to scream as more people surrounded her.

One man tried to touch her.

Oh, no.

"Hey, get away from her!" I exclaimed, and the man stopped, throwing me a dirty look. People seemed to clear away as they flashed us weird and worried looks.

"Please!" she cried, the word harsh and forced through puckered cheeks.

I got down on my knees, crawling under Y/n's desk.

"Hey, Y/n," I said softly, trying my best to calm her. She didn't look up as expected, instead she kept her hands plastered on her ears. "Hey, hey, it's okay." I shushed her, shrugging my jacket off of my body and wrapping it around her shaking frame.

I heard her reciting words under her breath.

"Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut.."

She rocked faster on her tailbone, smacking her head on the inside of her desk repeatedly as she recited the states in alphabetical order.

I remembered reciting the states in alphabetical order was something she did to calm down from last time.

I knew what to do.

I had dealt with similar situations myself.

I knew how to deal with her meltdowns as well.

"Alabama, Alaska, Arizona..!" she sobbed, her eyes shut tightly as she continued on listing the states.

I brought my hand behind her head, keeping her from developing bruising from how hard she was hitting her head.

"Reid.." Morgan spoke, but I ignored him, only turning around to tell everyone to go back to their desks.

I wrapped my arms tightly around her body, shushing her.

She liked when I did this. It was a comfort tactic for her. She felt secure.

Eventually, her cries dissipated as I reached into her bag to grab her black headphones, her body clinging to mine as I put them on over her ears, her right hand fidgeting with the back of her hair and her left clinging to her pant leg as I embraced her tightly.

"Do you want it tighter or looser?" I whispered.

"Tight," she managed to squeak out, to which I squeezed my arms around her, demonstrating how to take deep breaths as she followed along, her body calming down as well as her cries.

"Is this okay?" I asked, to which she nodded.

I shushed her until she looked up at me, her body still shaking from the aftermath.

"Do you want to go home? It's close to 9 already," I offered.

"Mhm. B-but can I go to your apartment? I don't wan' be alone."

My eyes softened. "Of course.. C'mon. Do you have a color of how you're feeling?" I asked.

"O-orange." She whimpered, and I grabbed her bag as she clung to my body.

"Okay, how were you feeling earlier?" I asked.

"D-dark red."

"That's good, that it's better. Come on, let's get home, okay?" She nodded, her feet shuffling as I walked, the side of her torso pressed up against mine.

I would text Hotch when we arrived home, but for now, I was only focused on the girl and her tight grasp on my clothing.

--

It was a silent walk up to my apartment.

She had become mute once I began driving, her upper body swaying forwards and backwards as she repeated the contiguous United States under her breath. I turned off all music and made sure to avoid any speed bumps or potholes that were on the road. I didn't want to make the situation worse.

Although, when I helped her out of the car her body clung to mine automatically.

I slipped my shoes off once we made it inside, and I noticed how Y/n's eyes were closed, her breathing calmed.

I knew she wasn't asleep and that she was just in a shocked after-phase, however, I couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked in the dim lighting.

I mean, she always looked beautiful.. All of the time.

I felt guilty for the butterflies that fluttered in my belly at the sight of her.

"Is it okay if I pick you up?" I asked softly, brushing some of the loose strays of her hair out of her face. She nodded lazily, wrapping her arms around me. I smiled at that.

I picked her up, walking to my room and then setting her down on the pillows gently. I pulled the shoes off of her feet and then loosened the tie around my neck, unbuttoning my white dress shirt a bit. I tucked her in tightly, then began to walk away as I thought she was asleep. I was going to sleep on the couch. However, her hand flew up from the sheet, her doe eyes looking up at me.

"Spencer, p-please don't leave. Stay with me."

I smiled softly, contemplating.

If I did this, my love for her would grow and I would ultimately have a broken heart in the end.

However, she needed me.

Thus, I slipped under the covers next to her, her hands grabbing at my clothes and pulling me closer as I chuckled lightly. Butterflies exploded in my stomach and fluttered around in my chest.

My body heat seemed to ebb away any previous anxiety that she withheld. Her breathing slowed and she snuggled up closer to my chest, soft snores sounding from her nose. I smiled, pulling her closer to me as she nuzzled her head in the crook of my neck.

Eventually, my eyelids began to flutter closed as I fell into a deep slumber, the beautiful girl in my arms making my whole entire heart and mind happy. So happy in fact, that my dreams were only about the most beautiful things-- like watching the stars twinkle in the sky as Y/n and I cuddled on a picnic blanket in Zhangye Danxia Geopark, a geological park located in China. I imagined the vast expanse of mountains surrounding us, the air fresh and chilly, prompting Y/n to snuggle up closer to my body for warmth.

Although the view was beautiful and spectacular, I couldn't keep my eyes off of the young woman thats arms were tightly wrapped around my torso.

I was practically hypnotized by her.

--

I woke up the next morning to feather-soft touches over my cheeks and a brightness blooming through my chest and body as a content sigh fell from my lips. I didn't open my eyes, but my hands began to roam over the unfamiliar-- yet comforting terrain within my grasp.

I felt smooth, warm skin that rippled with goosebumps all over before I could even get to certain patches-- as though the tissue estimated where my fingertips would travel to next. Nimble legs wound around mine upon my insinuation. It felt like a dream--an even better dream than the one I had earlier on the night previous. It was better in that it was real--not made up from the abyss of my imagination. My hand on her lower back brought her closer, pressing her against me before I could even realize that I'd blurred the lines between reality and my dreams and fantasies.

This was real.

Scenarios like these that kept me entertained for so long had now become my actuality.

But I didn't panic; I had no reason to. I melted into the touch of the beautiful being that laid intertwined limb by limb with my body.

Finally, when I opened my eyes, I saw her tranquil stare. She looked at me with a wide-eyed, yet tired-eyed, fascination from just mere inches away. It took what little breath I had away from me as I stared back at her with all the love that I could muster in my weary expressions.

"Good morning," I whispered softly, causing her eyes to flicker down to my lips. My hands drew small patterns on her soft, yet chilled skin. It was hard for me to tell how much of her longing was real or imagined, created by my lovesick, oxygen-deprived brain as we stayed wrapped up in each other under the satin covers.

"Clear."

It was a strange and beautiful thing to say to me in the wee hours of the early morning, however, something about the tone of her voice told me that she felt happy.

To be sure, I asked. "Is that a good thing?"

Again, her eyes flickered to my lips as her pointer finger drew a soft line across my chin, all the way up to my bottom lip as she traced across it in amazement. Something so small, which made my tender lip tingle, lit my skin into a small fire. A small, shy, smile ghosted across her lips.

With a quiet voice she answered. "It's a new one. And technically clear isn't a color. But yes."

I smiled softly, my eyes raking over her features as I tried to memorize this moment.

She then hoisted herself up on her forearms, my hand dropping from her upper back to the small of her back. My thumb was still drawing soft patterns on her warm skin, that was now unclothed as her shirt rode up. She swung a leg over my waist, now straddling my torso as my hands shifted to lying on her hips. She giggled, the sound hatching the once caterpillars from their cocoons that they slept in in my chest, now fully butterflies that fluttered lovingly around my system as I smiled at the soft hiccups she produced in between each laugh.

She leaned forward, her chest basically pressed against my face, but she was careful not to suffocate me. She toyed with my hair, my hands still on her waist as I was careful to not push boundaries.

"I like your hair. It's curly and soft." She sighed, my eyes closing at the feeling of her running her fingers through my bed-head hair.

"Thank you," I murmured, squeezing her waist softly.

She sat up, taking my left hand from her waist and running her fingers along the pads of mine, then the digits of my knuckles as she wrapped her small, cold hand in mine.

"I like your hands too. They're big and warm." she accounted, pressing my hand that was intertwined with hers to her warm cheek that now had a small blush dancing on it.

I smiled, "I appreciate it. I like your hands too."

"Really?" she asked, her voice small.

I nodded, a light chuckle falling from my lips.

"Yes, really. I like everything about you. I really like you."

The admittance made my stomach churn with anxiety.

Yet, she beamed with pure joy, falling forward onto my body and hugging my neck as I laughed softly.

She leaned her forehead on mine, my breath hitching in my throat as her eyes flickered down to my lips and her hands played with the bottom of my lavender, silk tie.

"I really like you too," she whispered, kissing the tip of my nose.

It felt like my heart had burst in my chest-- of course in the best way. The tip of my nose tingled as though her lips were still pressed against it.

My hands rested on her hips as she inched closer to my lips, quickly pressing a kiss on them nervously, slightly pulling away to see my reaction as a small yelp sounded from her throat with anxiety.

However, I diminished her fears as I pressed my hand against her jaw, bringing her back to kiss me again.

The kiss, like her voice, was slow and soft, sticking with me like honey. She brought her hands to my face, squeezing my cheeks together as I laughed into the kiss, my heart fluttering with jubilation. She pulled away with wide eyes. I tried to follow after her lips, but she just laughed.

She bent down and kissed me again, the feeling of her lips against mine better than the myriad of daydreams that I had created in my mind about moments like these.

Soft, slightly lewd noises sounded from our kissing, our tongues twining together as she hummed happily at the feeling.

She pulled away, her hands still pressed against my face.

"I like the feeling of us kissing. The stubble on your face feels weird on mine, but it also feels good. I like the way it makes my skin feel like pins and needles... but much better. It makes me feel happy."

I laughed.

I was going to shave, but I guess not anymore.

"I'm glad," I whispered, drawing a small line across her jaw.

"I also like the way my lips feel after we kiss. They feel numb and tingly. But not in a bad way. It's not like the time when I got my molars extracted and they had to give me seven shots in my mouth. My lips felt like a dead fish after. It's not like that, it feels nice. Really nice. Like I never want to stop. And my stomach gets all queasy--but I love it. I love it a lot." she whispered.

I laugh softly, holding her chin as I meet my lips with hers for a moment before pulling away.

You're so cute." I whisper-laugh.

Her face gets red as her eyes trace over my features before her lips break out into a smile, giggles escaping the back of her throat. My heart flutters at the sound.

She kisses me again, a small whimper leaving her throat and echoing into my mouth as her hips move on my crotch.

I feel myself get hard as her hips move quickly, our lips disconnecting as she giggles, her head being thrown back as my hands stay still on her hips. I'm careful not to squeeze too hard, and to not push boundaries. My hips rut upwards towards hers, and I'm afraid I've gone too far as she gasps, but she never stops, the feeling of my pant zipper against her clothed core eliciting a beautiful, sweet and crackly moan to fall from her lips. I groan softly, her face falling from the ceiling to look at me with wide, pleasure-filled eyes as her hips drag across my hard, restrained dick that is pressed against my slacks. The feelings that run through my veins like wildfire make me grunt softly, which only prompts the girl to rock faster on her hips, trying her best to elicit more sounds from me.

Her hands cling onto mine, guiding my lithe fingers to splay out on her as she wraps her fingers in between mine to make me squeeze her clothed skin.

Whines fall from her throat as I squeeze softly, the friction making my orgasm bubble up in the lower depths of my belly.

"Does that feel good, darling?" I ask, now using my hands to drag her slowly up and down my clothed dick as she whines.

She nods, her eyes looking at me through a half-lidded gaze.

I smile softly, her body going limp as I feel her orgasm approaching; as well as mine.

"Sp-Spencer, please don't make it stop." she whimpers, yanking onto my tie, extracting a moan to leave my throat.

"I wouldn't even think of it, love." I reply, my fingers running up and down her waist as small mewls leave from the back of her throat.

I hear small whispers leave her mouth between her aroused sounds.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.."

Smiling, I respond. "Are you going to come for me, darling?" I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

She nods dumbly, her hands dancing around different places to grip my clothing as she looks to stabilize herself. A tear leaves the corner of her eye and I quickly wipe it away, sitting up to kiss her, the new angle at which my pant zipper hits her making her cry out as I press my lips against hers in a breathy kiss. I fall back onto the pillows behind me

Soon, our orgasms hit, and her hips slow as she falls onto my chest.

She laughs, peppering the sensitive tissue of my neck with kisses, and I hum in content.

"I love you, Spencer Reid." she whispers into my skin, and I feel like I am going to cry.

In fact, I do cry.

She hears sniffling and sits up, inches away from my face as she wipes the fallen tears from my eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asks softly, kissing my chin.

"I just- I love you as well."

A small smile lights up her face.

"Lavender," she says, kissing my lips and cradling my face. "This is what lavender feels like."

--

I wake up earlier on Monday morning, before the sleeping angel in my bed wakes.

We spent the whole weekend together, and I've never been more happy.

Exchanging our I love you's was truly something that made my whole entire world glow in a rosey-pink.

Quickly, I run to the store and go through my options; trying to find the perfect one.

Finally, I see it.

A lavender turtle.

I purchase the toy, and drive to my apartment as quickly as possible.

I walk into my room, Y/n's hair splayed out across the pillows as her soft breathing hums from her nose, her hair and soft skin glowing in the golden, early morning sun.

I smile, my heart practically beating out of my chest with joy.

I kneel next to the bed, running my fingers through her hair and kissing her cheek.

Her eyebrows furrow before she peeks through her half-closed eyelids.

"Spencer?" she murmurs, her voice crackling from just waking up.

"Good morning, love."

She smiles, suddenly wrapping her hands around my neck and bringing me in for a hug.

I laugh softly.

The bag with the stuffed toy rustles quietly as I lean forward, and she pulls away.

"What's that?"

"Oh, just something I got for you." I say nonchalantly, biting my bottom lip down as I try my best not to smile.

"For me?!" She gasps excitedly, trying to grab the bag with her hands.

"Of course for you!" I laugh, running my hand down her arm.

"Oh, please can I have it, Spencer? Please, please, please!" She begs, standing up from bed and I tower over her, Y/n's hands grasping my shirt.

"Hmm," I pretended to think, narrowing my eyes at her. She pouts, tugging me down by my shirt to kiss her lips. I pull away. "Oh, alright."

She giggles excitedly, and I throw the bag away from the toy, pulling the plush from my back, presenting it to her.

She gasps, hugging the toy to her chest as she squeals.

"Spencer! I love it!"

I laugh, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"I'm glad." I say, and she wraps her arms around my waist, looking up at me with big eyes.

"Oh my goodness! I love you, so much!"

I smile, looking down at her, small laughs escaping my throat.

"I love you, so much, too."

She laughs, kissing my lips again, before pulling away slightly.

"Lavender is my favorite color." she whispers.

"Mine too." I whisper back, placing my lips on hers softly.

--

[helloprettybb]

all i see

insp. by a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be by jess benko. this song destroys me and almost makes me cry everytime i hear it. i just can’t it makes me so emotional so i had to write an angsty little piece about it.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

description: you loved him with all your being, but that wasn’t enough.

warnings: big angst, not much organization so if that bothers you, sorry, kinda fuzzy timeline that tries to be chronologically, cursing

word count: 1.4k

stranger, who knows all my secrets; can pull me apart and break my heart

He consumes your thoughts all day and night. You hate yourself, truly. You resent your heart for allowing a man to have such a grip on you, but here you are, leaning against your apartment balcony with a cup of tea in your hand. Your tired eyes glance down at the city beneath you. For being the city that never sleeps, New York is pretty quiet at 3 a.m. The cars zooming below you are mostly semi-trucks with the occasional sports car.

You should be asleep, too. But every time you close your eyes, you dip into a dream about him. America’s golden boy, the ultimate patriot, Steve Rogers, your unrequited soulmate. You’re a rather closed-off person, but Steve made you believe it didn’t have to be like that.

“You know you can tell me anything?” he says randomly. It was late and you were at Steve’s apartment with an empty pizza box and a couple of beers. It’s become a sort of routine. Although the food and drink varied, the company never did.

“Yeah, Steve.” You smile, “I know that.” He smiled back at you as if he knew you didn’t completely trust your words.

“I know you’re not really open to people, but I just wanted you to know that,” he adds. 

“Thanks, Steve.” you reply and you mean it.

You had that conversation almost a year into your friendship. Back before space titans came to wipe out half the universe or government contracts were established. It was a simpler time. If only you fell for him then.

You had a boyfriend at the time. A lousy one, but still, a boyfriend. You only felt platonic feelings toward him, but when your relationship fell through a year later, you saw those feelings change.

You were debating on confessing. Perhaps he liked you, too. After all, you’re his closest friend. But just as you were about to tell him your feelings, he told you something else.

“Yeah, her name is Sharon.” You smile wide. Maybe the more your face burns the less your eyes will sting from tears.

“How did you meet?” you ask, but you don’t really care. You’re being a really shitty friend right now, but to be fair, your heart is shattering as you speak. You listen to him talk about Sharon. She sounds nice, great, even. You’re not mad at her. Hell, you’re not even mad at her. No, you’re mad at yourself for being such an idiot and falling for Steve, someone who was never within your reach in the first place.

You watch as he falls for her. It breaks you, but it’s not like you can tell him. So you stand on the sidelines, smile when he looks your way, and cry when he turns his back. It’s the most heartbroken you ever think you’ll be until he tells you-

“I have to leave.”

“What?” you ask. wondering why he’s telling you specifically now. He always leaves for missions, but he’s rarely ever told you. And when he does, he never looks this serious. But right now, with his furrowed brow and anxious determination, he looks like he’s ready for something different, more serious.

“I just-” He cuts himself off. His eyes bore into you and you can almost feel them stare into your soul. “I have to leave and I don’t know when I’ll be back. So I just want to say goodbye.”

He’s leaving you for good. Or at least, that’s what he makes it sound like. You bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying, but it doesn’t work. The tears spill out slowly at first. But when Steve pulls you into a hug, you hold him back. Tears spilling freely, you grab onto him for dear life. Because maybe, just maybe, if you hold on tight enough, he won’t go. He’ll stay with you forever and you’ll be together and happy. But when you feel him start to pull away, you let go.

Waking up from being dusted away was an odd sensation. You were visiting your parents when the snap happened, so you reappeared in their living room. Lucky for you, they weren’t snapped away and the house was still theirs. They were overcome with joy when they saw their little girl was back.

They catch you up on the past five years like how your sister gave birth and now you have a four-year-old niece to meet. You laugh and smile and absorb the abundance of happiness at the reunion.

You go back to your apartment which luckily, you still have because your parents acquired it and put it up for rent. Unlike many of the other displaced people, you were fortunate to come back to a family and a home.

While walking around your apartment, you get a text.

“Are you back?” It’s from Steve. Your heart flutters in your chest. You haven’t heard from Steve since the night he told you he was leaving for good.

“Yes,” you reply quickly.

“Wanna meet at my apartment?” You eagerly accept. Can it get any better?

It’s just like those old Friday nights. Beer, pizza, laughing. It’s perfect. Steve is happy to see you as it’s been seven years. It’s funny because you look the same, but Steve. He’s changed. He no longer has that alert, almost anxious look, but a calmer, gentler demeanor. He looks like he’s at peace. At the moment, you thought it was because of you. But you quickly learned otherwise.

Steve told you that night. He spared you the specifics, only giving you the rough idea, not that you wanted to know more. If anything, you wanted to erase your mind of anything and everything Steve Rogers. You wanted to take back the years with him and go back to the time before you knew him.

When he told you he was leaving again, it hurt you more than you ever thought possible. There were so many thoughts running through your head, so many emotions stinging your heart. He was leaving for her? That woman he knew for a couple of years in the forties? What about everyone here? You wondered if you weren’t good enough for him. You thought about how fucking good she could be for him to go back and time and lose all his friends here.

But then it hit you. He loves her as much as you love him. It hurt so badly not because he chose someone over you, but because you’d do the same. You would choose Steve over anyone or anything. If given the chance, you’d travel back a thousand years to spend your life with him.

That just about broke you. The realization that you may never fall for anyone as hard as you fell for Steve. You may convince yourself that you’ve moved on or found someone else, but it’d be a lie. Steve was the love of your life; you just weren’t his.

That night, you wanted to tell it all to him. Say everything that’s been on your mind and all the emotions building inside. But then you realized it wouldn’t have mattered. What would’ve happened if you said you loved him?

He wouldn’t have stayed, since he didn’t feel the same way. He loved Peggy and your confession would not have changed anything. It would do more harm than good because knowing Steve, he would feel immense guilt and you don’t want that. The last thing you want is to put Steve in that position.

God, you love him. You love him so much it hurts. As much as it pains you, Steve Rogers is your world. He reminds you of everything good and fills your heart with joy every time you see him. You love everything about him from his stupid preference for smaller shirts to his adorable obliviousness to the modern world.  But all your affections, all your hopeful feelings only bring you pain and misery.

So, you don’t confess your feelings, you don’t beg him to stay, you don’t even cry. You make a joke. “Seems like everytime we see each other only ends with a goodbye forever.” You laugh, but it’s more at yourself, not at your joke. You laugh because you’re such a damn fool for falling for him.

[mydiazboys]

we found love (in a hopeless place)

[insp] 2 3 4

Glaring around the room he was standing in, he dumped his bag on the floor. Nothing stood out in particular, it was exactly what he was used to when it came to group homes. An older man was coming forward from somewhere in the back, where the kid who had answered the door disappeared too. He looked friendly enough, but they always looked friendly, in his opinion.

“You must be Edmundo?” The man asked, walking up to him.

“It’s Eddie,” he retorted, sucking on his teeth as he looked around.

“Right, Eddie. I’m Bobby, this is my house,” the man introduced, gesturing around. “You’ll be staying here with a selection of young men and women in situations like yourself,” he explained, tucking his hands into his pockets. “We have Hen, Chimney, Maddie and Buck.”

“Where am I sleeping?” He cut in, looking around pointedly.

“Before we get into that Eddie, there’s some ground rules you’re gonna have to follow to stay here,” Bobby explained to him, shaking his head. “This is a welcoming environment, I do not tolerate any homophobic behaviour or language under my roof, do you understand?” Eddie nodded his head firmly, as he looked at the older man. “I also don’t tolerate any violence or drug abuse.” Another nod from the roughed-up teen. “Every night I expect you home for dinner,” Bobby continued, before explaining. “I cook up a meal every night, it is the only meal I expect everyone to be together for. You may go out before and after dinner, unless it's your night to clean the dishes. Curfew is at 11pm, I am reasonable about that.”

Eddie’s golden brown eyes caught Bobby’s chestnut ones, and he didn’t dare argue with the older man. Instead he was picking up his bag, which barely weighed anything anymore. Bobby gestured for him to follow when he was certain the teenager understood his rules clearly, before showing him upstairs.

“I’m down the hall, in the middle room on the right. The girls, Hen and Maddie are in that room right down there. And this is where you’ll be sleeping with Chimney and Buck.”

Eddie stepped into the room, glancing around. There was a bed pushed against the furthest wall opposite the door, with various band posters scattered across the walls it touched. None of the names screamed out at him, and he was sure he wouldn’t recognise any of their songs if he heard one. The bed was made, and the person who slept here clearly cared about their belongings. On the bedside table stood a lamp, with an alarm clock and a well-read magazine.

Behind the door was a bunk bed, with a desk tucked under. The desk was a complete mess, with various school books thrown around on the wood. Papers filled with messy handwriting in the centre of the mess, quite clearly some abandoned piece of homework. On the bed above, it was untidily made. This person was in a rush this morning, with their pyjamas thrown into the corner. And like the other bed, this one was surrounded by posters. From what Eddie could see, they were mostly science and space-related.

Then his eyes fell on the last bed in the room. It was pushed in the far corner, the duvet was rolled on the mattress with two pillows. The bedding folded up on the end, waiting to be put on. The walls were absent of any character, naked.

“This mine?” He asked, his finger pointing lazily at the naked bed. A glance back at Bobby, who nodded his head. Eddie stepped forward and dumped his bag on the bed, sitting down as he turned to look up at the older man, bringing his foot up so he could retie the lace on his boot. “So, what? I have you watching over my shoulder every minute of my day?”

“I don’t quite know how your previous group homes worked, Eddie,” Bobby started, leaning his shoulder against the bunk bed. “But here, I trust that you’ll follow the rules I’ve set in place. I trust that you’ll do good when out in the world. I trust that you will come to me if you need help.” Eddie scoffed, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “Why don’t you unpack and make your bed, then come downstairs and I’ll introduce you to the others?”

Eddie watched as the elder walked out of the bedroom, listened as the footsteps descended and then he was unzipping his bag. He didn’t own much anymore, mostly a few t-shirts, a couple pairs of jeans and some underwear and socks. So it didn’t take him long to throw all his stuff into the drawer that had been left open with ‘Edmundo’ written on a sticker on the outside. It actually took him longer to get the bedsheet on his mattress, and he was growing more frustrated as the opposite corner was popping off when he managed to get on the other one.

Eventually it was made, and he was descending down the stairs and following the noise that appeared to be coming from the kitchen. Stepping through the archway, he brushed his fingers through his hair as he took a glance at the group of people. They were chatting away about something, laughing even. Bobby was standing over the oven, a frying pan in front of him. There were two girls sitting opposite him, one had a shaved head and the other had long brunette hair. At the table behind there were two boys, who appeared to be in a disagreement. One with curly-dark blond hair and the other had a very obvious pink scar on his forehead.

“Ah, Eddie! You’re just in time.” Bobby had clocked his appearance now, turning down the heat on his frying pan before he was catching the other kids' attention. “Alright, guys. This is Eddie, he’s going to be staying with us for a while.” There was a chorus of ‘hellos’ from the teens, who were barely interested.

“I thought his name was Edmundo,” the curly-dark blond boy teased, and Eddie saw him get an elbow to the side from the scarred boy.

“Buck, we respect people’s chosen names here, remember?” Bobby’s tone was authoritative but it also sounded like he had had a similar conversation with the boy before. “Okay, so, Eddie. At the table, you have your roommates. Buck on the right and Chimney on the left, they’re both harmless enough-”

“I’ll take you in a back alley!” Buck yelled out, but he was shrinking down at the look he received from his guardian.

“And right here we have Hen and Maddie. Maddie is Buck’s older sister, they’re a two-for-one package deal.”

“Hey, Eddie,” Maddie greeted, smiling as she waved over at him. He gave a little two-finger wave in return.

“Bobby, can Karen come over later?” Hen asked, not looking up from the phone in her hands.

And then Eddie was tuning out the conversation, moving around the kitchen before he was sitting himself in a seat opposite the two boys. His legs spread, one foot resting against the leg of the chair.

“So, where you from, Eddie?” The scarred boy, Chimney, asked.

“Texas,” he replied, looking down at his hands where he was tugging on a piece of loose skin on his thumb.

“Oh, no shit? Where in Texas?”

“El Paso.” His answers were short, his voice was rough. He didn’t like talking about his life before. He didn’t like talking about himself in general.

“How did you end up out here?” Chimney continued his line of questioning, almost like he didn’t hear the tone.

“Stole a car, drove it out here. Got prosecuted out here. Ended up in juvie. Got out this morning.” His tone was dry, and the chatter from the girls and Bobby had stopped as they looked over at Eddie. Only Bobby knew the story, so it was up to the other teens to work out if he was telling the truth or not.

“Guys, you know the rules,” Bobby’s tone was warning.

“Sorry, Bobby.”

“Sorry, Cap.”

“Alright, if you guys want breakfast, I’m serving up soon. But if not, I’ll see you guys here at four-thirty, not a second later.” And then there was movement all around him, as the teens were getting up from their seats and heading out. And then Eddie and Bobby were left alone in the kitchen.

[jiubilant]

21 for a daedric artifact of your choosing, OR an important piece of enchanted jewelry one of your OCs has......🔍👀

21. silence insp: [x]

In Solitude, at summer’s end, Viarmo sits down with a friend.

They often dine together at this hour, in the headmaster’s hearthroom, in front of the wide window that looks out to sun and sea. They eat sparingly today. The table between them is well-stocked with sweet and bitter: honeyed oats, hot tea, apples poached in sunlight and cinnamon. Eggs on sour rye. Salt in the shaker. Sugar in the bowl.

A fitting spread, Viarmo thinks, for their last breakfast.

“I’d better be at the docks by—noon, let’s say,” says the Archmage, his smile comfortable and calm. He spears a slice of apple with his fork. “Or the Queen will send someone to drag me, I expect.”

Viarmo does not smile.

“Four months,” he says, half in wonder, half in pain. He slowly shakes his head. “It took you four months to be named an enemy of the state.”

“Anything worth doing,” says the Archmage, “is worth doing quickly. Pass the salt?”

“If you pass the sugar.”

The scrape of the sugar bowl across the table. The gentle tap of the salt-shaker.

The banishment, Viarmo thinks, won’t stick. They both know it; the Queen is fond of them, and sympathetic, and her get-thee-gone is meant more to protect her court wizard than to punish him. But the Emperor’s proscription is a different matter. Not that old Mede is likely to send assassins to a man for tying up trade in far Haafingar, not with the number of knives ringing his own throat right at home, but Viarmo worries. He spoons a lump of sugar in his tea. He stares at the man across the table, watches him chew, imagines him cold and still in some Colovy cell—

“Vjar?” The Archmage, warm and alive in Viarmo’s hearthroom, raises his eyebrows. Leans across the table. Taps the rim of Viarmo’s cup—clink-clink—with his fork. “Vjar. Are you going to drink this, or caulk the ceiling with it?”

Viarmo blinks down at his tea. His sludge. He’s spooned in half the sugar.

“Dramatist,” says the Archmage, not unkindly. “Here, let me—let me show you something.”

He works off one of his plainer rings with difficulty, leaning back in his chair, then casts it carelessly across the table. It rolls butter-smooth and straight past cups and cutlery, bright as a coin, then—inexplicably, to Viarmo’s eye—curves from its natural path, wobbling like a wagon-wheel back to the Archmage’s waiting hand.

Viarmo, dragging his thoughts from the dungeon in Colovia, tries to look more interested than ill. “Is it weighted?”

“No.”

“Spelled?”

The Archmage smiles. “Yes. But that’s not why it comes back.”

“Something in the way you rolled it, then,” says Viarmo, resigning himself wearily to his part in the play. He musters a smile. “Let me try.”

The Archmage drops the ring into his hand.

It’s warm, Viarmo thinks, blinking in surprise. Not warm like gold that’s sat awhile against skin, but warm as a living thing itself—with a pulse, almost, a thready thrick-tick-tick in his palm. Abruptly fascinated, he turns it over in his hand. “What’s the spell?”

“With that on,” says the Archmage, “you could slam your fingers in your viol-case and feel nothing at all. Maybe a pinch.”

Viarmo raises an eyebrow.

“Heard you swearing earlier,” says the Archmage. He smiles a little nervously, then glances out the window at the sun. “Go on. We’ve got—five minutes or so.”

Five minutes, Viarmo thinks. The sunlight shines cold on his face. Five minutes.

He rolls the ring.

The ring rolls off the table.

“I’ll get it,” says the Archmage at once, which is ridiculous—but he’s out of his chair, easing himself stiffly to the floor, before Viarmo can protest. He left his cane, Viarmo thinks, in the bedroom. He should fetch it for him. Five minutes.

“The trick of it,” the Archmage is saying, blithe and calm as ever, “is that there’s no trick at all.” He’s crawled under the table, the old spider, talking all the while. “It’s—it’s a long-standing superstition among mages, actually, the ring-rolling. If you wear an enchanted piece awhile, like a, well, like a ring, it’s supposed to take to you. You in particular. Not to personify. It’s something to do with—harmonic resonance, or magicka signatures, I don’t know. But when you roll your ring away, it rolls back”—he bumps his head on the table, rattling the cups, then reappears by Viarmo’s knee—“if it wants to.” A thin twitch of a smile. “Because it wants to.”

Viarmo considers this.

Then he reaches, with a fond, faint smile, to thumb the Archmage’s hair behind his ear.

“Do you rehearse your little allegories, Ravi,” he asks, his fingers brushing the other man’s cheek, “or do you spin them off-the-cuff—”

He stills, realizing what he’s looking at. The Archmage, kneeling by his chair. Looking anxious. Holding a ring.

“Argonian custom,” he says.

Viarmo hears his own voice, thin and small, as if echoing from a great height. “Yes.”

“This way no one knows any better,” says the Archmage. “Keeps your, ah, your reputation intact. Institutional credibility. Popularity with wealthy dowagers. You know. But maybe someday we can do it properly,” he says, speaking faster now, “a, a real handfasting, with—banns and bells and all. With hatkicks. If you like.” The ring twists and trembles in his hand. “Or maybe you’ll throw this in the, the—in the canal in a month or two, I don’t know. I don’t—I don’t know, it’s mine, it might not even fit—”

“Yes,” says Viarmo.

“—but, you know, I thought,” the Archmage continues, his voice hoarse, “I thought—you make me think, that’s the trouble.” He smiles then, helplessly, like a harpist struggling with several strings. “I thought, well, why shouldn’t we do all the things that stupid young men do—”

“Yes,” says Viarmo.

They stare at each other. A bird flits past the window.

The Archmage, his face careful and still, clears his throat. “Yes?”

Viarmo smiles.

“Well. Not all the things,” he says, “that stupid young men do.” He folds the Archmage’s hands, very gently, between his own. “It’s been fifty years since I could do a hatkick.”

A short silence.

“What if I held the hat,” says the Archmage, straight-faced, “very close to the floor, say, ankle-height—”

“Five minutes,” Viarmo reminds him. He opens their hands and looks down at the ring, blinking back a glad and grievous ache. “Let’s see if it fits.”

It does.

[elder scrolls writing prompts]