#Range Forest Officer Posts

[redheadspark]

Here (Part Two)

Summary - Azriel stays by his mate's side, not knowing his family is rallying behind him to find out who attempting to kill his mate

Warnings - Mostly Angst

A/N - Part of the Ocean Eyes Series. I posted this as a sequel of Part One, which got insanely reactions! I am so glad you guys liked Part One and I hope you like Part Two!

Part Three Found Here

"What's the plan, Rhys?"

"I'm focusing more on my cousin's health and her life in the balance than dealing with her attacker."

"That's not where my head is,"

"Enlighten me then, Cassian,"

Cassian rolled his shoulders and eyed his High Lord as Rhysand was perched at his desk in his office, the sun setting over the rolling hills outside the River House, and the cooler air was blown onto the office with ease. Cassian leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his head reeling with questions and scenarios that he wanted to figure out immediately. But Rhysand was remaining calm, too calm for the Illyrian Army Commander's liking. He considered the wounded Illryian who was asleep upstairs, his friend's mate, his family. Someone tried to hurt his family and take away his family, and Cassian was fuming from the inside out.

But he was also a changed Illyrian, just as Rhysand and Azriel were. They were all fathers now: Rhysand with Nyx, Azriel with Alec, and Cassian with his daughter Rose. His daughter, sweet and yet fiery Rose was a splitting image of her mother but had his infectious and playful heart. They all had offspring to protect and think about, no more rash decisions and acting out on a limb. The children had to come first, and Cassian was not willing to do anything that would bring his family harm. Azriel never did that himself, yet that led to Alec almost being killed as a toddler and Azriel's mate now in a bed upstairs hanging between life and death. Nesta would never let Cassian do anything like that, not just for Rose but for Nesta too.

Cassian was the one who found you first, sprawled on the forest floor bleeding from your wing and the arrow still hanging out of your wing. You both were out in the outline border of Velaris, Cassian getting a hunch that there were rogue beings there making their way across the border into Velaris territory. You on the other hand were meeting with some of the farmers and shopkeepers that lived in the cottages there to check on them and talk business in contributing to the Community Center.

Maybe it was fate that he was there and come enough to hear your scream out, but he knew your scream far too well from knowing you since you both were younglings. He flew towards the wail you let out, his heart hitting against his chest far too hard and thinking it was a trick of the mind.

Everything slowed down for him as he gathered you in his arms, you were out cold and the poison already working in your blood. He had to act quickly, time was of the essence, and your time was about to be snuffed out if he didn't get you help in time. 

"The marks on the arrow," Cassian stated, reflecting on the arrow that was piercing your wing and sicking out so harshly that it sickened him to rethink it again, "We need to know where they came from so we get a hunch as to who did this,"

"I already have a big hunch, and I got in contact with the very High Lord that I'm thinking," Rhysand hummed, his cooldemeanor was hiding the anger he had. Cassian raised a brow at him as Rhysand rang his thumb over his fingers back and forth, a tactic he would use when he was thinking deeply, "High Lord Beron has been notified and is coming tonight,"

"What?" Cassian asked in shock, standing up stiffly and no longer leaning against the wall. 

"He knows the utmost importance of this since it does involve my cousin…my fucking family," Rhysand said the last part in a low tone, not a growl but close enough, "We are going to meet at the Townhouse since I know both yourself and Nesta would rather not have the High Lord of Autumn Court in your home,"

Cassian snorted, then gave him a questioning look, "Does Elaine and Lucien know what happened?"

"Feyre reached out and told them to stay at their home here in Velaris for the time being. In fact, I don't want any of the Inner Circle going anywhere outside of Velaris until this is resolved once and for all. We either stay in our homes or at The House of Wind until I say so," Rhysand explained as his violet eyes looked out the window to see the last images of the sun still in the sky before it hid into the horizon.

"Is that an order?" Cassian asked, Rhysand’s eyes shot back to his Commander.  Cassian, though tamer than he used to be when he was younger, was still reckless at heart at times. Something inside of him wanted him to find whoever did this and bring them pain. You were family to him, meeting him through Rhysand when he was a boy and considered him a brother of yours. His rational side was teetering to be pushed aside, and he was fine with it.

"I don't want another member of my family hurt, Cass. I consider you family, long before you became my brother-in-law. You need to think of your wife and daughter and that they need you," Rhysand explained to Cassian, seeing Cassian's eyes soften from the mention of Nesta and Rose, "We need to be smart about this, not reckless. I want you with me when we meet with High Lord Beron,"

Cassian hummed, knowing that Rhysand was right when it came to being reckless. He then gestured his head over to the doors that lead out of the office, "What about Azriel?"

"I don't want him anywhere else but with his wife, she's his priority now. And besides, I would rather not leave Azriel alone in the room with High Lord Beron. That's if Beron, or Autumn Court for that matter, did have something to do with this. He is not in the right frame of mind to be anywhere else," 

Cassian knew he was right about that too. The rage Azriel must be feeling at this moment, not knowing who in factharmed and attempted to kill his mate, must have been explosive. Cassian himself has been Azriel in such a way before, the anger that would fester deep down and be unlashed by either his shadows or his Truth Tellers. Cassian and strength behind him, but Azriel had something deeper.

Something more menacing.

"Alec is also staying here until his mother is well again, though he still doesn't know what precisely happened," Rhysand explained as he got up from his chair and walked around the desk to stand near Cassian with his arms folded in front of him, "I don't want Alec anywhere else but here, he's my nephew and he needs to be protected now more than ever. We all do, but epically him: someone is hunting his mother and father, and I won't let him become an orphan under my roof,"

"None of us want that, Rhys," Cassian reasoned with Rhysand, "He's secure and protected here with you and Feyre, and he's safe with his father, the safest he’ll ever be,”

"Which is why we need to be smart. For now, let's just focus on this meeting with Beron and making sure my cousin is comfortable and safe while she heals and come back to full health," Rhysand stated, then pausing as he gave Cassian a more cornered look, "How is Alec and Azriel now?"

"Alec's okay, he just misses his mother. As for Azriel…it's hard for him," Cassian confessed. Rhysand hummed and rubbed his eyes, already thinking of the next steps that were to come. The meeting tonight would be far too important, life-changing, and yet his cousin was still in the back of his mind and her health was his main concern. 

All he could do now was hold onto his Inner Circle, his family, so close in hopes they wouldn't slip away.

"Alright, buddy. Time for bed, okay?"

"Ok, daddy,"

Azriel softly smiled as he watched his son hop into the massive bed he was going to sleep in, the guest room that wasacross from where you were still sleeping and still healing. He left the door slightly open, being able to see you from where he was in Alec's guest room as Alec was settling into his bed. 

Alec was only told that his mother was sick, severely sick, and he was not able to see her.  Of course, it confused him at first, not understanding that he wasn't able to see his own mother since he had seen her sick before, but he knew better than to question his father.  Seeing Azriel looking worn down and defeated made Alec worry all the more. 

But Feyre was a step ahead, making sure he was well fed at dinnertime and kept him busy with his cousin Nyx until it was time for him to go to bed. Still, his mother was in the back of his mind, wondering what was it that made his mother so sick. He missed his mother, hugging her and hearing her voice telling him goodnight. Azriel tried his best to be present with Alec, but his son caught onto something that was hidden from him. 

Perhaps a trait he inherited from his father.

"Alec, I know this is different from what we're used to," Azriel explained to Alec, who was watching his father with his wide blue eyes as he was snuggled under the soft sheets of the bed, "But you are being such a trooper for going with the flow of it all.  I promise you that things are going to go back to normal soon, okay? As soon as momma is all better, we'll go back to our house and things will be back to the way they were,"

"Is it going to be forever?" Alec asked tentatively as he searched his father's tired eyes. Azriel felt a twinge of pain that his son was still kept in the dark, so speak, when it came to what truly happened to his mother. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was to lie to his son like this, to have that trust broken at any moment. 

"No, not forever, baby," He reassured Alec as he pushed the inky black hair out of his son's blue eyes, "This is not forever, I swear to you. You believe me?"

"Yes, Daddy," Alec replied, Azriel smiled at his son and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. He was about to leave his son to sleep, and as Azriel eased himself up from the bed, Alec spoke up again in a gentler tone. So gentle, that it sounded like the curtains were swaying in his room from the night breeze.

"Daddy, is momma gonna be okay?"

Azriel could have cried then, seeing his son watch him for an answer. Azriel never wanted this for his family, the fear of losing someone he loved and another person he loved was filled with fear and worry. Alec was only four years old, far too young for something like this to happen in his life. Nothing could prepare him for this: consoling his son and hoping that his wife would pull through. 

Alec needed his mother, Azriel knew that deep down. There was no greater bond than Alec's bond with his mother, it was thick and filled with so much happiness and love. Inwardly, Azriel wanted that himself with his mother, and he did have that in the blink of a moment when he was young.  To see his mate give that same love to his son was beyond rewarding.

Now his son, looking at his father with worry in his young eyes, was asking about his mother.

"Yeah…yeah she's gonna be okay," he reassured Alec. He had to give Alec hope, the hope that his mother would be herself again. Although he had very little hope, he would at least give some of that hope to his son. He leaned down and kissed his son one more time, "Get some sleep, okay? I'm gonna check on momma and come back to you, I love you,"

"I love you too, Daddy," Alec replied, then curled into the bed under the sheets as Azriel moved away. He felt like he needed to be in two places at once: with Alec and with you. Although you were sleeping and till healing, Alec needed you and needed your warmth. Azriel wished he could change it all, make you all better so you can hold your son. Yet as he watched Alec fall asleep, facing the window with a look of peace on his face, Azriel could breathe a bit easier. 

He kept the door into the guest room open slightly, mostly in case Alec needed him as he walked silently across the hall into the room where you were in. Still asleep, facing the empty chair where Azriel was perched for the past few hours, the moon shining into your room to cast a bluish light along your still wounded wings. Azriel could even see the moonlight shine through the thin membrane of your wings, showing the veins and the damage from the Ash Arrow.

But the way you were snuggled against the body pillow, head against the soft pillow, and your long hair draped over your shoulder, you looked more peaceful than you did earlier when Azriel found you. Azriel sat down on the chair, taking in a long breath as he held his hands together in his lap and watched you. Your deep breathing, the softness that was now slowly coming back along your skin and your cheeks thanks to the medicine from Madja. 

"I might be talking to myself here, but I hope you can hear me," Azriel said aloud in the room, his voice sounding a bit raw as he watched you in earnest, "But I need you to pull through and get better. I….I don't think I can do this without you. I won't have the strength to, no matter how hard I'll have to try. I need you, our son needs you. He needs his momma, and I…I don't wanna do this alone and without you."

He might have sounded silly since he was talking alone in the room, but then again he needed to get it off his chest. Bottling up all his fear that he's had for the past few hours, would have suffocated him. The only person he was ever safe to unload his feelings, to be open and exposed therapeutically, was the one who was asleep in front of him and unable to be fully present with him.

"I'm sorry I failed you and couldn't protect you," Azriel admitted, sinking a bit in his chair as he was fiddling with his fingers, Clutching them together tightly and refusing to let them go, "I promised you when we were mated that I would protect you, keep you safe and never let anything happen to you. I broke that promise, and I know I can never repair that,"

He thought that if you were awake, you would reprimand him for being hard on himself. Azriel could even hear it clearly in his mind, your kind voice scolding him for being immensely harsh towards himself. You've always helped him out of his moods and insecurities, including what he does and how he takes care of others around him. Azriel thought back to a talk that he had with you when Alec was still a young infant, he was voicing his worry about taking care of his family and if he was doing enough. 

He needed you to bring him back to the light, and not have him hide in the darkness.

Azriel reached out and took your hands in his own, feeling the coolness of your skin and yet how soft they were. Healways loved your soft hands, a soothing balm against his calloused and scarred skin. He leaned down and kissed the back of your hand, his lips along your skin had you shift in your sleep and hum.

"Sleep and come back to me, come back to us. Your son and I need you more than anything, so I need you to get your strength and open those eyes for me when you're ready. I'm here when you wake up, I promise.  I love you more than life itself, more than my own life, and if I could trade mine for yours then I would in a heartbeat. Just gather your strength, we'll be here waiting for you," Azriel proclaimed to you and your sleeping form.  He did speak the truth: he would trade his life for yours since at times he felt you had more good for the world than he ever did.

Azriel cannot picture a world without you, without any of your beautiful traits or your tender heart. 

Azriel heard it, almost like a whisper, as he was dead asleep with Alec cradled in his arms in the spare guest room.  His arms were tucked around his son, who was snuggled against his father and snoring softly. It was so soft, like a breeze, which didn't disturb the Spymaster at first.

But it was also distinct, not the sound of the curtains fluttering next to the bed or the very soft ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantle.  This was a shutter of a whisper, and it was calling his name.

Azriel…..Azriel….

His shadows hummed, licking along Azriel's arms as he stirred a bit in his sleep. Alec was thankfully a deep sleeper and stayed in slumber, even though his father was feeling the sensation not just with his shadows but in his mind. It was a familiar voice, so familiar that maybe it was a trick of the mind as Azriel took in a long breath. But he heard it again, a pinch louder and his name being called out as if the source was so far away.  Fighting through a fog that was thick and almost recognizable.

Azriel…Azriel…

Azriel was still asleep, but it was becoming more alert as the voice was getting a bit louder now in his mind. It was no longer a dream, it was something else, something familiar to him.  So familiar like coming through the front door of the small little cottage where he lived, or flying amongst the cloud with his wings stretched. Even the familiar touch of your lips against his own made him feel safe.

But he finally heard it, and his eyes shot open on high alert.

Azriel….I'm here…

It was you, your voice, speaking through the bond.

You were awake.

To Be Continued….

A/N - Part three?!?! Let me know if you want a part three!

Tagging - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @sizzlingstarlightsky @iluvyewman-blog @masbt1218 @a-courtof-azriel @homeslices @zanzie @topaz125

[benevolentbones]

Can I request something where an unsub is going after trans people, and you're very nervous and try to get out of that case since you're a trans man. But no one knows you're trans so you can't get out of it without outing yourself which you don't wanna do so you have to go.

But the unsub captures you anyways and has you tied up naked when spencer kicks in the door and takes down the unsub and you're begging him bot to look but he's just really sweet and understanding and helps you explain to thw others why the unsub went after you?

please don’t tell | spencer reid x ftm!reader

warnings: !!!angst, graphic descriptions of murder, kidnapping, torture, derogatory remarks against transgender people, slurs, trans post top surgery reader. 16+

word count: 2k

a/n: thank you for your request, i hope you’re happy with it :) if you find these types of stories triggering please refrain from reading<3

“our unsub is targeting transgender males?” morgan quizzed, reading through the case file.

“yes. he is stalking them and kidnapping them, and then leaving their mutilated bodies in the forest around this area.” hotch pointed to a map that hung on the board beside him.

a cold sweat swept over you, your palms feeling clammy. you felt sick- like you might throw up any second. this case hit close to home, the unsub was kidnapping and murdering people like you.

“he has taken the lives of four trans men, their age range between twenty-one and thirty-four.” emily added, flipping another page.

jj strutted into the room, dropping a pile of pictures from the crime scenes. she spread them out across the mahogany table.

“our latest victim, was a twenty-six year old trans man, he was kidnapped outside of a gay bar just twenty miles from the dump site.” jj reported.

“the coroner states that the injuries here and here-“ jj pointed to large gashes along the chest area and stomach, “-were made prior to the death of our victim. the final injury that caused him to succumb was a gunshot wound.” she then pointed to another picture, a close up of the victims forehead.

“in 2014, the average life expectancy of transgender people ranged between thirty to thirty-five years of age, and in recent years the homicide rates have increased by 25%.” spencer added, listing off facts from his mind.

the taller man sat next to you, his posture slouched as he crossed one leg over another.

you felt yourself grow pale, your mind racking through all the facts you just heard spencer spill from his mouth. you could hear sounds from the team, more comments about the case, but you could not process what they were saying.

spencer noticed your distant state, you seemed off as you sat staring down at your hands placed on your lap. he leaned over to place a hand on your forearm, whispering over to you.

“you alright, y/n?” he questioned, you flinched at his touch, your eyes flickering up to his soft gaze. he could tell something was wrong, he just couldn’t quite place it. you nodded, flashing him a small smile.

none of the team were aware that you were trans, and you wanted to keep it that way. you knew they wouldn’t judge you, they were some of the most accepting people you’ve ever met. but you would rather stay incognito, it wasn’t their business.

“are there any connections between the victims aside from being trans?” emily questioned out loud.

penelope dropped a stack of paper onto the desk as she walked in, taking a seat opposite you.

“they all went to the same practice for their surgery and hormone referrals- the highland clinic.”

“it might be someone who has access to all of their files on hand- garcia?” hotch mumbled out.

“on it.” the blonde shot up, walking back to her office.

your stomach dropped, that’s the clinic you frequented. a wave of dizziness hit you, you lifted your hand to cup your forehead, using the other to steady yourself in your seat.

spencer’s eyebrows furrowed even more, studying your paling form. hotch picked up on spencer’s concern, turning his attention to you as the team continued to speak about the case.

“l/n. if you’re not feeling good i suggest you go home and rest.” hotch mumbled out towards you, spencer nodded in agreement.

"n-no i think i'm okay.."

hotch's stern gaze was all you needed to rethink your answer. "alright, i'll head home.."

you stood up, grounding your body by gripping the edge of the table. the room seemed to spin for a moment, and you took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay upright. the concern etched on spencer's face made your heart ache.

as you made your way to the door, spencer quickly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "i'll walk you to your car." he offered, his voice soft but firm.

you nodded, grateful for his support. the two of you moved down the hallway in silence, the sounds of the bustling office fading into the background. when you reached the parking lot, spencer gently touched your arm, his touch warm and reassuring.

"are you sure you're okay to drive?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception.

you managed a weak smile. "i'll be fine, spencer. just need to get home and rest."

he didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't push further. "call me if you need anything, okay?"

"i will.” you promised, getting into your car. as you drove away, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your stomach. the clinic being mentioned in the case was too much of a coincidence.

~

cold. all you could feel was something cold and hard pressed against your face. you blinked your eyes open, your eyes adjusting to the harsh ceiling lights.

you looked around, panic rising in your chest. the room was bare except for the chair you had fallen from, and a small table in the corner. the walls were made of concrete, the air damp and musty. the faint sound of dripping water echoed somewhere nearby, a constant reminder of your isolation.

you tried to move, but the ropes binding your wrists and ankles were tight, cutting into your skin with every attempt. your heart raced as you struggled to recall how you had ended up here. fragments of memory surfaced: the walk from your car, a shadowy figure, a sudden pain in the back of your head.

a door creaked open, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. footsteps approached, deliberate and slow. a figure emerged from the shadows, his face obscured by a hood. he stopped a few feet away, his presence filling the room with a menacing aura.

"you're awake," the figure said, their voice low and chilling. "good."

you wriggle around again, trying to escape the binding but causing a sharp burning feeling around your wrists. that’s when you noticed you had been stripped of your clothes, leaving you in your underwear.

“what- what to do you want.” you managed to croak out, your voice hoarse, mouth dry.

the figure stepped closer, and you could finally make out the cold eyes staring back at you. "you," he spat, a sneer curling his lips. "you disgust me."

you recalled his features, dark blond hair, blue eyes- he was one of the nurses from the clinic.

your mind raced, trying to understand the source of his venom. "i don't even know you.” you said, frustration mixing with fear.

"don't play dumb," he snapped, his voice dripping with contempt. "people like you make me sick. thinking you can just change who you are. it's unnatural."

your blood ran cold as the realization hit you. you had faced prejudice before, but never like this. "please," you began, "i haven't done anything to you."

"haven't done anything?" he echoed, his laugh harsh and bitter. "you existing is enough. you're an affront to everything decent. it’s against gods will.”

he turned away for a moment, rummaging through something on the table, and returned with a small knife. the light glinted off its edge, making your stomach churn. "i’m going to fix this," he said, he voice eerily calm. "i'm going to fix you."

the blade hovered over your skin, and you flinched instinctively. "please, you don't have to do this," you pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

"shut up” he snapped, pressing the knife lightly against your skin, drawing a thin line of blood. the pain was sharp and immediate, but it was the hatred in their eyes that terrified you the most.

"i'm doing the world a favor," he said, a twisted smile forming on his lips. you realized with a sinking feeling that there would be no reasoning with them.

you shut your eyes tight, mentally preparing yourself for this to be your final moments.

a loud crash interrupted the kidnapper's twisted monologue. your eyes flew open to see the door bursting inward, splintering under the force of the impact. spencer reid stormed in, his expression a mix of determination and concern.

"fbi! drop the weapon!" he shouted, his voice authoritative and unwavering.

the kidnapper's smile faltered, but he didn't drop the weapon. instead, he turned it towards spencer. you could see the tension in spencer's stance, ready to react at any moment.

"i said, drop it!" spencer repeated, taking a cautious step forward.

the kidnapper hesitated, and in a swift, practiced move, spencer disarmed the man, knocking the weapon to the ground and subduing him with a quick, forceful maneuver. within seconds, the kidnapper was on the floor, restrained.

spencer glanced at you, his eyes softening with concern. "are you okay?" he asked gently, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"don't look at me," you whispered, your voice trembling. "please, don't look at me."

spencer nodded, respecting your wish. "it's okay," he said softly, turning his attention back to securing the kidnapper. "you're safe now. i promise."

spencer quickly shed his jacket, draping it around your shoulders. the fabric felt heavy and warm, a stark contrast to the cold fear that had settled deep in your bones.

"i need to unbind you," he mumbled gently. "i'm going to be careful. just hold still."

you nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as spencer's hands worked quickly to free you from the restraints. his touch was light, deliberate, and you could feel the care in every movement. your wrists stinging as the rope slips from the raw skin.

once the ropes fell away, spencer helped you to your feet, his arm steadying you. "we're going to get you out of here," he assured you, his voice calm and soothing. he turned towards the door, raising his voice slightly. "hotch, hold on a minute. don't come in yet."

you could hear the muffled response from the hallway, but couldn't make out the words. spencer kept his gaze averted, respecting your request. "can you walk?" he asked, his tone filled with concern.

"i think so," you whispered, your legs shaky but functional. you slipped the jacket over your arms, clutching the fabric over your torso to hide your scars. you didn’t want the team to know.

"okay," spencer said, supporting you as you took tentative steps towards the door. "we're almost there. just a little bit more."

he guided you carefully, making sure to keep his body between you and the door as they moved. once outside the room, you saw hotch and the rest of the team waiting, their expressions a mix of relief and readiness.

"i've got him," spencer called out. "give us a moment."

hotch nodded, signaling the others to hold back. spencer stayed close, his presence a steady anchor as you moved further away from the nightmare you had just endured.

once you were a safe distance from the room, spencer finally looked at you, his eyes full of relief and care. he crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "i won't tell the team, unless you want me to." he promised. "i’ll tell them the kidnapper took the wrong victim. that this wasn't supposed to happen to you."

tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of fear, relief, and gratitude. spencer's words were a balm, a small comfort in the aftermath of the terror. "thank you." you whispered, your voice cracking.

spencer gently squeezed your shoulder, his touch reassuring. “i’m going to take care of you," he said softly. "you're safe now. let's get you out of here."

as he led you towards the waiting paramedics, you felt a fragile sense of hope begin to take root. spencer stayed by your side, guiding you through the chaos, ensuring you were never alone.

you fidgeted with your hands as the paramedics examined you, having now removed the jacket. spencer kept his gaze averted, but kept a calloused hand placed on your leg.

“i don’t think of you any different…i hope you know that.” he mumbled out, you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

“i still care about you the same. this changes nothing.”

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna @cynbx

[leakyweep]

Berry - Corazon x Reader; Cottagecore AU

No warnings, just a wholesome story! I hope you enjoy :)

Words; 1.0k

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

The morning light filtered through the curtains, the damp air from the open window wisping the thin fabric through the air like a vapor. Your crusty eyes blinked a few times before focusing on the wooden roof of your cabin, your gaze connecting the different notches together to make constellations. You would’ve stayed in bed if it wasn’t for your cats screaming outside your door for their breakfast– and the sounds of your stomach that almost mimicked those of your pets.

You filled each bowl of your outside cat’s before heading straight for the coffee maker, sighing as you filled a cup. Grabbing your creamer, you began to go over your checklist of errands for the day– farmer’s stand for some produce, as your gardening venture was turning out to be harder than previously considered; the bakery, to see Cora- to grab some yeast; the post office to send your mother a letter.

When you left the comfort of your big city home with your kind mother to live on the mountainside, it was tough. The whole atmosphere was different; so much so it made you so homesick you felt your stomach in knots at night. It got easier over time, and the way the small community welcomed you with open arms made you forget the qualms you had before. You were alone in a new place– or so you thought. The whole town was there to catch your fall, giving you all the comfort in their own ways and helping you onto your feet with your new life.

It was a cozy place. The wind had permanent residence through the evergreen trees that stood tall in the forests of the town, the rushing rivers full of bright, colorful fish, the people that lit the streets at night– old cobblestone paths alight with dancing and merriment and carrying on. Many a night had you stumbled home accompanied by the local blacksmith, Kid, his strong arm holding you upright and helping you into bed without a hint of malice. He always crashed on your couch and used your hot water the next morning, but you were thankful for the escort nonetheless. And he did make some damn good ale.

After you had dressed and thrown your worn shoes on, your basket was donned and you headed out the dirt path spotted with small stones and rocks to town.

“Hey! Been lookin for ya. I got a pint of ale back at the forge for lettin’ me crash.” Kid’s gruff voice sounded from behind you once you got to the town square, and you chuffed softly to turn face to face with him. 

“While I appreciate that, I already told you I don’t need any compensation. You getting me home safely is payment enough.” You brushed some charcoal from his cheek and thumped his skinny nose. “Where’s Kil?”

“You think I keep a radar on that guy?” Kid let out a hearty laugh while rubbing his nose, knowing damn well where his partner was. “He’s back at the shop. Had to run to town to pick up some charcoal.”

“I see. Maybe I’ll pick up the ale on the way home. Gotta head to the bakery!” Your cheeks couldn’t help but turn pink thinking of the brother who helped run the place. Kid’s maroon lips spread across his face. “I gotta get something.”

“To see that DonQuixote fella? Or to ‘get somethin’’?” The last part he air quoted with a mischievous smile.

You stuck your tongue out at him before heading the way you were previously walking. “Maybe both.”

You chose to ignore the cheeky laugh from behind to instead think about the shaggy, blonde locks of the baker, his mocha eyes swirling with amusement and care, how kind his smile was. His laugh was deep and contagious. Watching him interact with the children in the town, especially his adopted nephew Traffy, caused your heart to swell five times bigger and quickly turn away so he didn’t spot your heart eyes.

 The chime of the bakery’s front door rang in your ears, and suddenly you were looking into the face you had been daydreaming about.

“Oh, hey there berry.” Cora’s gentle tone caressed your ears, inviting you in and to the counter where he stood. His nickname for you always made you scoff. He called you so because your face was always red. Whether from the walk to the bakery or some other reason, who knows. “Looking divine today. Whatcha doing back so soon for?”

His words never failed to make you bashful. While he was just like that with everyone, you knew they meant something different to yourself.  “Well, I forgot the yeast a few days ago. Wanted to make some fresh bread,” you explained, setting your basket down gently on the counter, “I’ll make sure to bring you and Doffy some when it’s done.” 

Cora’s smile only expanded upon hearing this news. He excitedly replied, “Please do. Your bread is delicious.” He mimicked the motion of putting a piece of something in his mouth and melted exaggeratedly behind the counter, out of your sight. You laughed and waved him off. “Shush. It’s not that great. I’m still working on the recipe.” You stuck your tongue out at the blonde when he emerged from behind the wood, now his turn to chuckle.

“You’re too hard on yourself, berry. Here-” Cora stopped short to grab something from the back, appearing from the kitchen threshold with a tart wrapped in wax paper. It was fluffy and light pink, dotted with strawberries and puffs of cream on top. “-Try this. Let it guide you in your next baking venture!” Cora’s mocha eyes swirled with something that you couldn’t name. It was like enthusiasm, but more… sentimental. It caused your cheeks to look almost as pink as the pastry as you plucked it from his large, scarred hands. 

“Thanks. Looks amazing.” 

You waved him goodbye, earning a wink and good luck from the baker. You hurried out the door, feet shuffling awkwardly as you hid your face. It wasn’t the first time you left the bakery with red cheeks, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. 

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

[jjameslily]

tied to you, ch. 3

soulmate au - a continuation of my microfic posted for jilymicofic's august prompt ( read chapter on AO3 )

if i ever promised chapters would be 1k or less no i didnt

“What?” Her voice cracked, the word barely escaping her lips. 

“Were you aware of the connection?” The man repeated calmly. 

She blinked, realizing with a start that she had stopped listening. His words were a distant noise, only half-processed as her mind wandered. 

It hadn’t been long since she had stirred awake, sunlight coming through the high windows of the hospital wing. The day blurred as she was quietly led from her bed to a cramped office beside the infirmary. Pomfrey had closed the door behind her, leaving Lily alone with a man dressed in healer robes now sitting across from her. 

The question hung between them as her mind flitted from one hazy memory to another—fleeting and half-forgotten moments from her childhood she had buried deep. But even as she tried to dig them up, none made any sense to her. She shook her head slowly, her throat tight from the moment the healer had begun to speak. 

“Ms. Evans,” the healer filled the silence, “I can understand this is all quite overwhelming. But if you wish to have better control over your connection, you must open yourself to it.”

Her eyes snapped to him. “You mean what happened wasn’t normal?”

He shook his head. “It’s difficult to classify anything as ‘normal’, as the manifestations are quite rare, but I suspect what happened last night could be an effect of a suppressed bridge between souls.”

Her breath caught. “Rare?”

“While we once believed having a soulmate in itself wasn’t entirely uncommon, their manifestations have certainly dwindled since the old days.” He paused, as if he was giving her a moment to catch up. “To put it simply, it’s rare that a bond presents itself clearly—if at all—nowadays. One could live their entire life completely unaware they’re only half of one whole.” 

“What makes it manifest then?”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “Soulmate bonds are ancient magic, and very unpredictable. There aren’t fixed rules to them nor are there any leading studies that suggest one reason over another. It just… happens.” The healer paused, studying her carefully before continuing, “For now, I recommend meeting with me over the next few weeks, to guide you through…”

But Lily’s mind began to drift again, the healer unable to keep her attention. Soulmates… suppressed bridge…old magic… She could barely process it. Her stomach was in knots as the idea shifted uncomfortably within her. 

Who was her soulmate? How was she meant to find them? Did she want to? The gnawing loneliness she had always carried—had it been shared or had it been her own doing by closing herself off and building her walls up for years until it was just a distant period of her childhood?

When the healer was satisfied her condition was stable, Lily was allowed to take the rest of the day off from classes to rest. She let her feet carry her absentmindedly, moving with the vague intention of heading to her dormitory. The laughter of students rang in the corridors and faces rushed past her, the noise muffled as Lily wandered aimlessly, disconnected from it all. 

It wasn’t until the sharp breeze touched her skin that she felt herself pulled back into her body. Her legs had carried her toward the lake, its glistening surface providing her some relief under the late afternoon sun. 

Lily wasn’t sure what drew her to it. Perhaps it was the way the water reflected the sky as it did in her dream. She imagined herself back in that forest, the trees rustling in the breeze around her, the invisible string tugging at her hand. Without realizing it, she began to reach out—not with her hands, but with something from deep within her.

Hello? The word drifted out, awkward and clumsy. The image of a deer blinking back at her made her feel foolish as she was met with silence.

For a moment, nothing happened. The stillness wrapped around her, amplifying her uncertainty as she waited with only the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears. 

But then a laugh filled the empty space. Something not just heard, but felt—and somehow familiar. It brought forward a surge of color, a small spark that flickered in the darkness, and she then sensed it—a presence. 

Don’t worry, came an amused response. I’m human. 

Lily’s breath hitched as she heard his voice in her mind. The sensation was like a light breeze stirring around her, or the brush of fingertips just barely grazing skin. It was gentle, almost deliberate in the way it slowly came to.

It’s you, she said almost in a daze.

He didn’t say anything, but hesitation fluttered within her. She was stunned at the realization that the feeling wasn’t her own. 

Soulmate. The word she had heard all morning seemed to glow as she thought it, escaping before she could reel it in. In this part of her mind, her thoughts and words were intertwined in thin, silvery ropes that she struggled to differentiate.

His presence hummed in response either way. Didn’t you know? 

How would I have known?

Her memories came rushing through then, crashing like waves on the shore, too loud and too fast. The healer’s clinical tone as he spoke to her, the clicking of his pen as he wrote down notes, Lily’s guilt as she grappled with the fact that she had intentionally suppressed their bond—yet completely unaware that someone was on the other side of it. 

There was an indistinct shudder that passed through them, then a pause. In the silence, she felt him sifting through the tendrils of their shared connection, brushing against her thoughts tentatively. A feeling of surprise surged through her, tinged with something else.

I thought you did... We’ve talked before, just once.

Lily felt the ghost of his own memory surfacing, almost as if she was recalling it herself. Grief pooled like cold water in her chest as he unraveled the memory slowly, almost carefully. Hands clutching a tear-stained t-shirt, the sound of her shuddering breath as she held back her sobs, the force in which he felt her voice calling out to him. As gently as he tried, it still tugged painfully at her as she remembered willing herself to believe it was her father—needing it to be her father—who had spoken to her one last time.

Everything around them began to shake. It was too much. 

Without a word, she pivoted from the memory, every image and every feeling shattering like glass. As everything fell away, she was plunged into what felt like an endless void, the sensation leaving her disoriented and nauseous as noise buzzed loudly in her ears. Instinctively, Lily reached out for something solid, desperately searching the contents of her mind for anything to ground her, and in an instant, the darkness fell away—replaced by something else entirely.

It was like stepping into a room bathed in rich golden hues, the kind that filtered through windows on a brilliant summer’s day. It was as though the air itself was sparkling with life, filling the space with a gentle hum that radiated through her and ignited a sense of comfort.

Where her own mind felt like a maze of closed doors and shadows, this space was inviting and bright. She didn’t feel the need to push past any barriers or pry anything open.

And, suddenly, it struck her that this was him—his consciousness. 

His amber-lit presence filled the room effortlessly, welcoming her as if he had nothing to hide. 

I’m sorry, he said earnestly. I should have warned you about the memories. 

What was that? 

I’m not sure… I didn't realize you could do that. We’ve never been connected this long.

As she settled into this new space, she realized how calm he had been, despite it all. You don’t seem surprised having a stranger’s voice in your head, she accused. 

Well, I’d argue we’re not strangers , he said, and almost as if to tease her, the word that had escaped from her mind earlier floated back to the surface.

Cheeky, she replied, unamused. You must think you know me well enough to be this annoying already. 

His laugh rumbled deep and warm, a pleasant sort of sensation that vibrated through her. Lily was surprised by the way she responded to it.

I’ve known you your whole life, he said smoothly.

Just casually lurking in the background all this time, were you? 

Let me show you, he said, his tone shifting slightly. 

Her mind went blank for a second. He offered her no words or memories this time, only feeling, but she understood all he was trying to convey as she felt his consciousness expand and move through her. 

He didn’t know her name, or her face, but he had always been there—in some intangible way, just beneath the surface. To him, they had always existed in the same space, intertwined yet distanced. Unknown yet familiar.

It almost frightened her how easily he shared his mind to her, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him.

It’s not a bad thing—a soulmate. 

Her pulse quickened, mind flaring with resistance she couldn’t help. Of course not… I just have to share my every waking thought with you…

She felt his laugh again, and wondered what it would feel like to mentally kick herself as she hadn’t meant for him to hear that thought again.

Can you hear all my thoughts? Her question was laced with wariness.

Usually, no. Can you hear mine? 

She waited, half expecting to hear something ridiculous, like elevator music playing in the background. 

No, but I can feel what you feel.

I can too. 

All the time?

Not quite. I think they have to be particularly strong. So far though, you seem to do it unconsciously.

And my memories? 

Those are trickier, he explained, and it irked her a bit that she was so out of her depth while he seemed so much more in control. 

He continued, It’s like quickly flipping through pages of a book. It’s just bits and pieces without much context. They can be hard to understand.

Lily felt a rush of relief. Good, I’d hate for you to know all my embarrassing secrets. 

I’m sure I’ll figure them out eventually, he responded playfully.

Brilliant, she said dryly, but a smile tugged at her lips for the first time. 

Don’t worry. You haven’t let me in since we were kids , he reminded her, and in that moment, she felt the depth of his patience for her. I haven’t seen anything you didn’t want me to—at least, not on purpose.

But as he said the words, it triggered a curiosity within Lily, setting loose a single silver tendril. Before she even knew what she was doing, she peered deeper, reaching for it. She heard him begin to protest, felt him attempt to stop her, but it was too late. 

With her unintentional touch, Lily opened the floodgate.

[aurorialwolf]

Was inspired by seeing other ppl do this so,, a short little fun fact list about my ocs (some of this is also from shorter little one-off posts I made)

These are all prime universe but I may do one for their Imperium versions another day,,

Aria: - Can speak Irish (her and Salvia communicate this way to keep up practice) - Has a 5 y/o little brother - Her favourite video game is The Stanley Parable (because of its absurd dream-like vibes) - She's connected more to Irish culture - so if you've seen her mention fae, that's why, she's researched the mythology and such a lot as well (hence why when she first got stuck in the imperium she compared the dimension swap to entering a faerie circle, and she compared Aurora to a fae because of the 'names obtained' in the bio of the sideblog) - She drinks an unhealthy amount of cream soda,, but doesn't like energy drinks or coffee (caffeine makes her tired)

Millie - Best shot out of her entire Surveillance and Containment team; solos them all when they go to a firing range for practice - She's from South Carolina, and has a slight southern accent still, but she covers it up for work often - She's VERY much not used to getting attention; Mouse paying attention to her and actually reaching out makes her pretty flustered, but positively so - Her favourite video game is Halo Reach.

Salvia - She's a spy for her clan's Queen (she's a member of the House of Baz), relaying classified information from DUMP so that Monarch Baz can have the upper hand in terms of information. - She's lesbian, and before she was turned, she had a girlfriend. They'd both been unempowered, so she's unable to go back to Ireland to see her. - She was turned after falling from some cliffs while talking a walk through the forest with her girlfriend.

Kayli - Used to be incredibly violent, but not aggressively so; measured, calculative, as she used to neutralize enemies of the Chorus, or those the Chorus found to be interfering. She went on trial for war crimes once the main conflict had concluded. She has been reformed for hundreds of years now. - She left a sword in a lake, as a symbolic way to wash away some of her violent sins. ....She may be the source of a couple "Lady of the Lake" 'sightings' in the past. - She pretends to be much younger than she is while she's on the job, acting around 70, since being significantly older can unnerve people. She also usually talks very "human" while on the job; which is only reflected once on her tumblr blog, which she usually uses to speak normally

Cassie - Wanted to be a baker when she was a child. Still has a vague wish of opening a bakery one day. She always has some kind of baked good in her house, or in her car (properly sealed, of course). She offered some of said baked goods to dct-n when they needed to be picked up and driven back to the place they were staying. - She's buff as hell. One day I'll draw it or find a good reference for what she looks like. Most of the pics online are too veiny and skinny? She's very bulky and healthy buff, not really exaggerated bodybuilder buff. - Her last name is 'Bernheim', a Jewish last name made from the Yiddish word for 'bear' and the german word for home, 'heim'. Picked it because it makes sense for her as a bear shifter and a very comforting homey person.

Amelia - Honestly, probably my least favourite out of the probation officers,, feel lowkey bad but she's got the least buildup so far.. maybe one day I'll flesh her out more and give her a roleplay blog but for now alas she doesn't get one,, - She's (somewhat) based off this sporty extrovert girl who's one of my classmates. - She's a sonal energetic,, that's a fun fact because probably no one remembers that because I said it maybe twice LOL - Had an alternative phase in highschool - From Los Angeles originally.

Tagging @lancerthatisntfree and @localpigeon22 and @original-bookshelf cuz their posts inspired this,,

[ancat-dubh]

A friend died a few weeks ago and I dreamed about him last night. I say friend – he was my boss at my first bartending job when I was 18, and for a few years after that at the theatre where we both acted, did the box office, and served drinks. That was a big transformative period of my life, though, and a lot of the grown-ups around me then – charismatic actors living out of their suitcases, often in addiction, doing some of the greatest art I’ll ever see, also my first dose of queer elders – have had an outsized lasting influence in my life.

He was a friend in my mind, even though we mostly only exchanged birthday messages and pleasantries when I was in town or, once, a black-out drunken run-in at the dive bar where he didn’t recognise me, but smiled and pirouetted me on my way to the bathroom. He was a strange, intense poet who’d won Jeopardy one year, given it all away, and tried and tried to make it work as an actor. He drank more as he got older, and his frequent Facebook posts got angrier, lonelier, occasionally blaming unnamed women for the pain he was in; his spot-on range of accents, sleepy gentle bookseller’s regard, and ability to flick into uncanny, ecstatic states onstage in an instant stayed the same.

He’d grown up in the Green Mountains, and it was there I was driving to see him in my dream. I’d been late getting up to meet him; we’d planned to get a drink at the bar in the town where his mother lived. We were having a text exchange while I drove, the kind you sometimes have in dreams where everything’s shaky and the buttons aren’t working and the conversation’s high stakes. (Or maybe you don’t have those – it’s been a while since I’ve dreamed regularly, years, maybe, but I’ve had a few these past few weeks). After getting tired of waiting for me, he’d gone off to a local environmental demo in support of a rare species of snake. While he was there, a counter-protestor had lit the forest on fire; he was texting me images and videos of the fire, of himself yelling and shouting trying to direct the firefighters, alongside downloaded images of the rare snake they were there to save. Are you okay? I was trying to ask as I drove further up the Mountains towards his house. I stared at the image of the snake bouncing in my lap while I waited for his reply – yellow belly, iridescent black body blazing a dull rainbow.

I haven’t been a ~visual artist dahling since about age 16 and I shan’t pretend to be so it surprised me how much the automatic drawing I did tonight to charge my quarter of our Imbolc ritual looked as it did on the phone in my dream. It looked, too, like the banner my friend and I painted together in the dream when we both arrived at his house safely – him smoky and tired, me out of breath from my anxious drive, cracking open a few beers and an old bedsheet and almost wordlessly painting the snake against the smouldering woods together to hang on his wall. It didn’t occur to me he was dead until after I woke up, but when I remembered the overall feeling of relief, contentment, ease in my body remained alongside grief.

I slowly worked some protection magic into a snake drawing tonight doing a little improvised ritual digesting after our feast (Guinness and honey glazed salmon, my v non-tradish version of colcannon, cheese platter with dried apricots, clotted cream and madeleines). After two of us left, my friend who was hosting and I made our own sketches of snakeskins with intentions and offerings written between the scales, and burned them while pouring out some libations to the ancestors and local gods. I thought about one story of Brigid, particular to Scotland, where the goddess emerges from the ground as a snake to start the spring; snakes fleeing fires through canyons and across hot asphalt in LA; the quiet, tactical prudence of the Wood Snake and the days-old Chinese New Year.

It occurred to me once or twice too, as I thought about my dead friend’s insistence on sending me this image of a snake, of all things, burning vibrant and don’t-touch-me colourful over a pine forest sparking into flames – I’m scared of snakes. Ever since I was four years old, and nearly stepped on a baby copperhead wriggling across my path while I walked barefoot through a dusty summer meadow. But this one felt like so much of a Sign showing up the way he did, I felt like I knew him already; there was no question of being afraid. God is change, I wrote on my paper sketched snakeskin; my friend and I wound ours together and set them alight and they burned right through into a perfect circle of black ash, so perfect and simultaneous we both shrieked and clapped our hands. (I’d had us read some of the maxims in Parable of the Sower for our ritual – I’d started rereading it the other week with images of the LA fires echoing in my brain and had to stop because the whole thing was a little too real and relentless and my brain’s only a few weeks out from feeling like a sharp trap). Spring’s not here yet but the change is here already. I thought of the snake-goddess sticking her head from her winter burrow, tongue tasting the air to confirm – yes. We’re in it; it’s here.

[mariacallous]

AmeriCorps, the US federal agency that oversees volunteerism and service work, abruptly pulled teams of young people out of a variety of community service projects across the country on Tuesday. The work stoppage was due to cuts attributed to the so-called Department of Government Efficiency, volunteers were informed Tuesday afternoon.

WIRED spoke with seven workers with the National Civilian Community Corps, better known as AmeriCorps NCCC, who say that they were told to stop working on projects ranging from rebuilding homes destroyed in storms, to readying a summer camp for kids, to distributing supplies for hurricane recovery, and prepare to immediately travel back to their homes.

Aadharsh Jeyasakthivel, a 23-year-old from Boston, was serving at a county food bank in rural Pennsylvania when he and his fellow volunteers were suddenly pulled from service.

“Non Americorps ppl are still distributing,” he wrote to WIRED in a Signal message, sending a photo of yellow-vested volunteers working on a line in a parking lot.

The AmeriCorps NCCC program was established under the Clinton administration by the National and Community Service Trust Act, signed in 1993. Each year, it recruits 2,200 people between the ages of 18 to 26 to serve in teams working across the country on different projects. Some volunteers also work directly alongside staff from the Federal Emergency Management Agency and the Forest Service, as part of smaller programs that are run within the NCCC. Graduates of the program get access to an award to help pay off federal student loans.

“In alignment with the Trump-Vance Administration priorities and Executive Order 14222, ‘Implementing the President’s “Department of Government Efficiency” Cost Efficiency Initiative,’ AmeriCorps NCCC is working within new operational parameters that impact the program’s ability to sustain program operations,” reads an email sent April 15 to NCCC volunteers seen by WIRED. A separate memo, also seen by WIRED, sent to workers signed by NCCC national director Ken Goodson, releases volunteers from the program and informs them that their benefits will be discontinued April 30. Volunteers’ “early departure,” that memo states, “results from program circumstances beyond your control.” (Workers who had completed at least 15 percent of the program, the first email notes, would be eligible for a prorated education award.)

AmeriCorps did not respond to a request for comment.

In early April, an AmeriCorps representative told Politico Playbook that DOGE staff “are currently working at AmeriCorps headquarters and the agency is supporting their requests.” A day later, The Washington Post reported that the agency was considering a 50 percent cut to its budget. In 2024, the NCCC program made up $37.7 million of the agency’s $1.2 billion budget.

The volunteer cuts, which included young people who told WIRED they were tasked with making forests more resilient to wildfires and helping out FEMA staff at the agency’s headquarters, come just weeks before the official start of hurricane season.

“NCCC and FEMA Corps represent a critical flexible workforce that is able to support disaster mitigation, preparedness, response, and recovery efforts across the country,” says Samantha Montano, an assistant professor of emergency management at Massachusetts Maritime Academy. “The loss of the people who make up these programs will be felt immediately, and especially in the next major disaster.”

AmeriCorps and the NCCC program have come under scrutiny in past years. Last year, the Government Accountability Office found that AmeriCorps needed to take more steps to prevent fraud in its grantmaking, while a 2017 Office of Inspector General report found that the NCCC program, which provides volunteers room and board, clothing, and any specialized training they might need, was four to eight times more expensive than other AmeriCorps programs.

Volunteers who spoke to WIRED said they and their team members had gotten job training in a variety of disciplines during their deployment, from data management to forklift operation to wildland firefighting certification.

“These programs are an important pathway for young people looking to have careers in emergency management and disaster work more broadly, so impacts will be felt in that way too,” Montano says.

AmeriCorps has historically been a target for some right-wing media figures and organizations, including Glenn Beck, Michelle Malkin, and the Heritage Foundation. The first Trump administration’s 2017 budget proposal attempted to slash funding for the agency altogether.

The long-term fate of the NCCC program is not immediately clear. An informational page on applying to the Fall 2025 cohort is still active on the AmeriCorps website, but a separate application portal lists no positions accepting applications.

For volunteers unexpectedly traveling home on Thursday, the loss cuts deep.

“I understand that the [Trump administration] has been cutting and gutting so many important programs, but I want people to know about what they did to Americorps. For many of us, this was our way to pay for college, to get away from home, to figure out what to do with our lives, it was a big step,” says 19-year-old Coloradan Noe Felix Burns, who was rebuilding houses in Philadelphia damaged by 2021’s Hurricane Ida. “And they just ripped it out from under us without even a two-week’s notice.”

[supernovafeather]

Crushed Souls

FO!Poe Dameron x FO!F!Reader

Summary : Reader is part of Poe Dameron's new squadron a few years after the war and confesses what made her feel so uneasy lately.

Content : age gap (older Poe), mutual pining, mentor/apprentice, war, fluff, angst.

Please comment and reblog.

(Yes that's Leto Atreides on the gif but this version of Poe looks like him)

Anxiety had been a constant companion lately. After all joining the legendary Commander Poe Dameron's squadron was the ultimate reward you could hope after the First Order's victory. Your missions would revolve around the solar system's safety by securing the different commercial routes. You would get deployed anywhere Poe Dameron demanded and you and the other pilots would follow him without a question and without a doubt. If you all had to spend a night in some shady cantina in an area controlled by the First Order you would go there. If your destination was some dark forest you would go there. If it needed you to fly above some megalopolis for several hours in a row you would do it. The thing was, you felt as if you did not deserve such an honor. Your young age attracted many comments amongst the soldiers both negatively and positively. Some would say you were there just as a propaganda tool to widen the recruits range, or because you had sex with an officer to get promoted, or maybe you had some influential father. Others would think too highly of you because they were convinced you must be some potential future ace that would replace Poe Dameron one day and that after all you must be one already to join him so quickly.

Just like now you felt like a fraud just for flying side by side with him during this routine patrol. The mere action of watching your radars and listening to basic comms of your squadron members messing with each other in a friendly was enough to make you feel abnormally lonely. Poe sounded especially tolerating with their antics and seemed to be in a great mood, specifically what you would love to join in a more normal day. Some thought he had a soft spot for you as you were the youngest of them all and maybe they weren't that wrong about it.

"Come on the rabid one, you can do better, over," the Commander said with an audible smile.

Poe certainly liked to taunt you and sharpen your skills but you still felt how rigid he could be unexplainably during missions. If at first you assimilated it to mysoginistic disdain from an older male pilot towards a young and impulsive female pilot you started to think of it more as a need of not repeating some past mistakes. He loved to repeat how reckless he used to be, how impressive his stunts were against X-Wings, how many times he almost died. The only thing that would kill you in this post-war era was your ability to cause your own stress gnawing you from the inside. So for once you didn't reply to his sentence. As Poe wasn't insisting you listened to another pilot without actually listening. Your brain moved to its auto mode and managed to filter successfully what was an order and what was stupid.

Even after landing on the temporary base consisting of a spot near a river you felt haunted by this imposter syndrome, lightheaded as if you didn't belong to that friendly atmosphere surrounding you. You chose to isolate yourself by acting more useful and sat at the entrance of your tent. Not that your eyelids heavy with slumber would be really effective with those millions of raindrops pouncing onto the trees and ground but you still wanted to feel fully as part of your crew. And yet you managed to miss the silhouette sprinting in your direction, Poe's weight heavier due to the water soaking his clothes and dark mop of hair. Fortunately you for the time to roll to the side to avoid him, and witnessed him falling onto the tent floor as a loud laugh escaped his lips.

"Well I guess you wanted to get rid off us all now, good job but you could do better. Not ready to drown today."

Maybe it was Poe's own tiredness he tried to hide with that smug grin but he did look older than on the propaganda flyers dating back from the war. Of course he was older, not only with his features but also some patches in his hair getting clearer or this beard he seemed to groom with much care. Despite his recent childish actions he couldn't appear any more as the reckless and naïve yet talented pilot choosing space dangerous adventures to save the galaxy from the Resistance. He was an experienced Commander that survived a war that took away too many souls from both sides. His charm remained there, only more mature looking.

"Oh. Well how shameful that would be to drown on the floor anyway," you stuttered as you sat up. "Exactly. Now tell me why you want to stay alone in your corner when we are supposed to be a team."

Benevolent voice, stern eyes. The usual when it came to scolding you indirectly. You ignored his heavy boots soiling the tent floor around the entrance now that he took them off. Cold water kept on dripping down his hair and beard.

"I needed some time alone. As there is no emergency and as we are in a safe territory, I considered that guarding the area would be…"

Your words died down at the warning sent by his displeased face. Poe knew precisely when to detect lies. You suspected him of being a liar in his past.

"My orders were clear. We have to turn our tents towards each other so that we can keep an eye on everyone. Radars and patrols will take care of the rest with much more efficiency due to that weather." "I'm sorry sir. This won't happen again."

Regrets and guilt made your body feel smaller than ever as you stared at the ground, your chest heavy. Between exhaustion and negative thoughts, anger and tears started to get hard to keep at bay. So you focused on your nails picking on your pants while listening to Poe wiping his face and hair with some tissue.

"I know you're having a hard time but I need you to focus," he mumbled as he sat down closer to you, "and for that I also need you to tell me the truth. Is there any reason for you to disobey?" "I… I don't want to disobey. It's just that… I mean I am not feeling well. And it leads me to disobey when it's not my intention to do so."

The man hummed as he kept on drying himself, then you watched his hands resting on his knees.

"You were silent today," he stated gently. "Yeah… I didn't feel like joking around." "Something I said?"

A quick "no" of your head gave your answer and you took the hand reaching for you. Poe's skin felt fresh and you shivered at this contact.

"Sorry for that," he chuckled, "but I know someone needing some advice from the old man I am, am I wrong?"

You grinned before looking up at his warm eyes and just by doing that you felt better already. A beautiful and comforting brown that had seen so many terrifying things without losing hope or care. This inspired you a lot at your arrival in his squadron. Relaxing a bit more, you handed him a large sponge towel that rested in one of your travel bags. The Commander thanked you with that same gaze and you looked away as he rubbed it all over his wet clothes.

"I might… need some… advice," you confirmed reluctantly. "Oh, well, who doesn't. So… what's bothering you?" "I don't feel as… deserving of being part of your squadron. I'm never good enough, funny enough, serious enough, useful enough, and as we don't really have any major enemy it's like this squadron doesn't need as many pilots as there are today."

The man got as silent as paralyzed for a short time before kneeling in soft motions, his hands holding the folded sponge towel against his thighs as he sent you a comprehensive look.

"Isn't that the good ol' imposter syndrome if I see one," he commented with a smile. "Maybe. Personally I call that a good sense of reality." "We all called that thing in a similar way. I know how that feels. I know the dread it causes. Not good, not good. Why do you think you don't belong there with us?"

The hands resting on your shoulders hold them right, just enough to anchor you to this world and that yes, Poe Dameron himself was your Commander for real and that he wanted to understand you more instead of seeing you as a dead weight.

"I've heard how traumatic the war has been on our soldiers so don't get me wrong but… I feel like I should take part to something bigger than just patrols. I have my strengths and my weaknesses and I should use them wisely instead of hinting down some weird creatures or clans or pirates attacking merchants." "It sounds pretty wise to me not to take inconsiderate risks when there is none to take." "I don't know… I've grown up to propaganda telling me not to shy away at any threat, that I should jump into combat mode whenever I see a danger so I could be useful. I want to be part of something bigger. It sold me camaraderie, team work to kill off rebels. And here I am calculating asteroid's trajectory and shooting at drunkards thinking that attacking small ships is the greatest idea of their life."

You might have gotten a little carried away by your diatribe but the look of absolute softness in Poe's face was everything.

"Look at you, talking like my young self instead of wanting to acknowledge reality. I miss it sometimes."

The slight trembling of his lips stopped in less than a second but punched you in your guts. Poe Dameron fighting off rebels during incredible battles couldn't suprise you but him crying? No. Impossible. He was an intense guy but mature, a military man that carried a good part of the Order's offensives on his shoulders couldn't cry. He was solid as beskar.

"I don't like it when people cry," you commented awkwardly. "I get it. Wasn't that supposed to be the rebels only that would cry at their downfall while we would celebrate our victory, our freedom and our superiority?"

Some vague slogan similar to his sour words flashed before your eyes. Then the ones claiming that the First Order's wives cried the troops that perished. Then another one claiming that only rebels and their allies would suffer. Then back to the First Order orphans mourning their fathers. This time it was your turn to repress some tears and you hid your face in your hands, rubbing your cheeks and temples as exhaustion was winning its way through each of your nerves.

"I just want to find my place into something bigger. More important," you complained. "I think the same sometimes. Then I remember I wouldn't have much to do out of our fleet. I don't want to become a farmer or a merchant. Not anymore at least. Flying is what gives me the most the impression of being free despite all the calculation and discipline required."

Poe came closer again, sitting right by your left. The hand he extended towards you reached for the small tear escaping the corner of your eye.

"I'm not crying," you protested weakly. "I know. It's exhaustion. I used to say that too."

With a mere gesture of his arms opening he welcomed you warmly in his embrace. This unthinkable situation helped you release a few more tears that had nothing to do with fatigue and he frowned at the tension present in your stiff body.

"Can you sleep these days?" "No. I tried but I stopped," you whined.

Trusting him fully, you let him guide your weight so that you were lying back against the floor, the back of your head resting on his belly and the rest of your upper body between his legs that hold you firmly.

"Close your eyes. It's going to help," he instructed.

That position already started to lure your muscles into a sleepy state, and your heavy eyelids closed by themselves while Poe was rubbing your temples gently with his fingers. His skin warmed up during the time spent in your tent and his touch felt amazing. And just like that you welcomed his face massage as his spread his fingers and palms on your forehead, cheeks, chin, on the bridge of your nose, whenever you needed it. The hypnotizing circles as well as your own breathing slowing down brought you closer and closer to sleep.

"You're more useful than you think," he said after a while, "I wish you were part of my squadron during that war. I know I would be able to count on you no matter what. You're the kind of person I would be grateful to dedicate my life for."

His words reached your ears but you were too far gone to even react at them. Your jaws opened a while ago, completely relaxed by his ministrations. Your brain kept on registering his touch, the intensity, your breathing, his breathing, his skin's warmth. You let him keep you in that position and also let him grab your hands so that he could start massaging those parts.

"I hope you can sleep better after this," he whispered, "you deserve it. By the way do you think you'd be available for dinner once back at the base?"

A discreet and undecipherable mumble from you later and you fell into the deepest sleep of your life.

- - - -

Thanks for reading please comment and reblog if you liked it !

@queen-of-elves @qrjung

[deliciousmagazineshark]

Best Places to Visit in December for Holiday Cheer

December is the perfect time to experience festive cheer around the world. Visit cities like New York for its iconic holiday lights, Germany for charming Christmas markets, or Lapland in Finland for a snowy winter wonderland.

Whether you're seeking Christmas magic or New Year's celebrations, these destinations offer unforgettable experiences full of holiday joy and warmth.

Winter Wonderland in Lapland, Finland

Lapland, Finland, is the ultimate winter wonderland and a dream destination for anyone seeking magic, adventure, and unforgettable memories. Located in the Arctic Circle, Lapland transforms into a snowy paradise in December, offering a perfect blend of natural beauty and festive charm.

One of the biggest draws is the chance to meet Santa Claus in his hometown, Rovaniemi. Visit Santa’s Village, where you can cross the Arctic Circle, send postcards from Santa’s official post office, and even enjoy a private meeting with the man himself. For families, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience that brings the magic of Christmas to life.

Lapland is also famous for its breathtaking Northern Lights. On clear winter nights, the sky lights up with shimmering green, pink, and purple hues, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. You can join a guided tour to chase the auroras or watch them from a cozy glass igloo.

Adventure seekers will love the range of activities, from reindeer sleigh rides and husky safaris to snowmobiling and ice fishing. For a unique experience, stay in a snow hotel or log cabin, where you can warm up by the fireplace after a day in the snow.

December in Lapland also features festive markets, warm glögi (mulled wine), and traditional Finnish dishes like hearty salmon soup and cinnamon buns. Whether you’re exploring snowy forests, meeting Santa, or marveling at the Northern Lights, Lapland offers a magical escape like no other.

Why Visit Lapland in December?

Meet Santa Claus in his official hometown, Rovaniemi.

Witness the stunning Northern Lights in the Arctic sky.

Enjoy thrilling winter activities like husky safaris and snowmobiling.

Stay in unique accommodations like glass igloos or snow hotels.

Experience the cozy charm of Finnish culture and festive traditions.

Pack your warmest clothes and get ready to explore the enchanting Winter Wonderland of Lapland, Finland – where dreams come true!

Vienna, Austria: Classic Christmas Markets and Festivities

Vienna is a dream destination for those seeking a magical Christmas experience. The city comes alive with charming Christmas markets, where visitors can enjoy twinkling lights, festive decorations, and delicious seasonal treats like roasted chestnuts, mulled wine, and traditional Austrian pastries. The most famous market, the Christkindlmarkt at Rathausplatz, offers a fairy-tale setting with beautifully decorated stalls selling handmade gifts and ornaments.

Beyond the markets, Vienna’s holiday spirit shines through its grand palaces, concert halls, and cozy coffee houses. Visitors can enjoy classical music performances, ice skating in front of the stunning City Hall, or simply stroll through the city's historic streets, soaking in the festive atmosphere.

Whether you're shopping for unique gifts, savoring local delicacies, or enjoying the city's winter beauty, Vienna offers an unforgettable December experience that captures the heart of holiday cheer.

[cherry-dr0p]

Haven't shown Tumblr much of Alice yet so here's a post dedicated to her.

[ CW: A whole LOT of OCxCanon ]

( This will also be a seperate AU so Im gonna tweak some things to fit Alice's story )

Another TW: Blood/gore warning.. The picture is kinda graphic so be cautious please!!

Summary of her story:

☆ Part 1: Photographic memories blurred. ☆

Before his death

Alice Moore is a 23 year old woman who works in a cafe in Brighton. She was originally dating Brian Stells before his passing. They lived in an apartment together after being in a relationship for a few years. She worked in the cafe whilst Brian was searching for a job, as they both were pretty broke at the time. Soon, Brian found a job as a facility caretaker in the newspaper. Brian was quite eager as it paid well, but Alice was more convinced of his safety more than anything. Eventually, Alice reluctantly agreed and let him take the job.

Note about paragraph above: If this was in the actual TWF series, this wouldn't be showcased as such. Perhaps little hints and clues to the information above in the series but it wouldn't be outright said (other than her occupation and name probably. Its also worthy to note Brian is like 24/25 in my AU)

After his death

Fast forward to afterwards, and Alice would be seen pacing up and down her apartment, waiting for Brian. It had been 2 hours since he had been due to come back from work, and there was no sign of him. The phone instantly rang, and it was her best friend Elise. She had questioned if Brian had returned yet, and Alice denied it. Elise apologised and after some silence, Alice expressed her wishes to go to the police. After a bit of debating, Elise reluctantly agreed for Alice to take this to the police. However, before the call ended, Elise muttered one thing;

"Dont do anything stupid, Alice. Please."

Alice nodded and hung up, saying her goodbyes. Before she went, she spotted an old camera laying around that she borrowed from Elise for something. She picked it up and took it with her, as something inside her was screaming for her to take it; that it'd be useful.

She then went to the police station and expressed her concerns with Brian's disappearance. The officer/receptionist nodded and questioned if Alice knew anything about the disappearance. Alice explained what happened and it was clear he thought Alice was joking or telling lies. He joked that if she could find evidence herself, then maybe he'd take the case seriously. However, Alice took this as no joke and then went off to St. Juana's forest, taking a bus.

The search for evidence (The main part of Alice's story)

Alice soon arrived in St Juana's forest (where she vividly remembered seeing the facility was here in the newspaper) on a snowy night with a flashlight in hand; She always kept a mini one in her pocket in case she needed it. It was a long wander to find something, anything that could relate to Brian's death. It was odd, as during her wanders, she spotted a shadow moving from the distance and children laughing. Though, she shrugged it off as her paranoia coming in. However, she spotted something on the ground from a distance. She walked over to check it out. It was...

She stood there... shocked... It couldn't be.

Brian... He's dead.

She couldnt help but fight back the tears - blocking out her feelings - as she used the camera to take a picture. It was then she let her emotions flow. She could hardly believe her eyes as she fell onto her kneed and held him close, sobbing. The one person she trusted and adored more than anything was laying there in the cold, covered in blood with his body mangled and tampered with.

Eventually, as she was sobbing onto his deceased corpse, she heard footsteps from afar. Her automatic reaction was to sprint until she reached a big cliff, with a bunch of fluffy snow covering the bottom. She looked back, panicked.

"What do you want from me?!"

Alice asked in a panicked manner, still unsure of who the two figures were as she glanced back. They seemed to be human figures. As they came into view, it was Chris and Felix. Alice was confused as she clutched the photos she had taken of the scenery to her. Felix beckoned her to give the photos back as they could be used "maliciously", so he states. Alice doesnt budge, and keeps a hard grip onto the photos. As Felix gets closer to try and intimidate her, Chris following along nervously (he does not want to be there, but was likely dragged there). Soon, as Felix backs her into a corner, Alice looks back down at the high cliff, calculating her fall as she looks back up at him. She claims that she'd rather die before giving him what he wants and letting him get away with everything. She falls back off the cliff, both Chris and Felix panicked, racing down to get to where she is.

Alice... she's numb with the snow that covers her. She cant move her leg or arm, and her hands have a off purple/blue colour to them. Alice attempts to fight back the tears and fight the feeling of the excruciating pain, but she struggles. She bursts into tears.

Felix and Chris makes it down there. Without a second thought, Felix snatches the photos from Alice, as much as Alice keeps her grip. She grimaces at both Felix and Chris as they both walk off. Her conciousness is slowly slipping as she mumbles the words;

"I'm so cold. . ."

And then, she's gone. Or so she thinks.

She wakes up in a hospital bed, a few people surrounding her. Nurses, a doctor, Elise, and a strange man with a clipboard. Elise greets her and sobs, claiming that she thought Alice was gone. Alice looks down and spots some body parts wrapped up in bandages. The man with the clipboard exclaims to want to speak to Alice in private, in which those around her lets him. Upon questioning, at the time, as she's questioned, she cant remember anything. Alice panics, as this has never happened to her before. All she can remember is Brian's corpse.

It was weird. Alice was determined she was gone for good. But, it's best to make the best of being given a second chance.

☆ Part 2: Mending The Past For The Future. ☆

Note: Excuse the angel Brian joke doodle 😭 I jus was feeling silly whilst drawing this,,,

I haven't completely fleshed out this part, but through the next few years, Alice is determined to gather evidence to do whatever it takes to take revenge on Felix and what he had done to her. In this part, Elise becomes a facility caretaker in order to help Alice and gather information for her - as Alice's first step is gathering evidence and information about Bon's Burgers/K-9 and their employees' disappearances - but eventually dies herself, which fuels her fury more. At some points, Alice doesnt know why she's been given a second chance at life, as it's filled with agony with those she cares for dropping like flies.

I haven't totally figured out her death and if she dies, but yk. We are so back.

And that's all I have :3 as a little reward for making it to the end, have some Alice/Brian doodles

Most of these are months old but I still like them :3

Alice's main quote from the show becomes "I'm so cold" because aaahh

[skpct]

Day 118: Burney Mountain Guest Ranch. 1240 miles from the Northern Terminus.

Hey, I’m back! It’s been a while. If there’s one thing you can say about Northern California, it’s that there’s no Wi-Fi. It’s been nice though, very flat.

Sierra City (mile 1200) was awfully small, but the Old Sierra City Hotel was cool. Always nice to find a hotel in a small town with an eccentric owner. The trail out of town featured a 3000 foot climb up to the Sierra Buttes, before it dropped down into the Plumas national forest. I’ve been seeing lots of little lakes and ponds on this section; it’s like Southern California, but not so dry. It’s very nice.

The only bad thing about this section has been the bushwhacking. As you can see, I’ve really had to fight my way through some vegetation in some places.

Belden Town Resort (mile 1290) has a reputation for being hiker friendly, but when I arrived there was an EDM festival going on. Belden is really in the middle of nowhere, so they can be as loud as they want as late as they want and nobody’s going to complain. When we left at 5:30 in the morning, the music was still going. I got surprisingly good sleep though? Leaving Belden, I passed the sign that marks where the Sierra Range ends, and the Cascade Range begins. I ran into Bohti, too! He’s feeling better, heading south now. I also reached a big milestone: the PCT midpoint! Halfway done, although I think the second half is gonna go faster than the first half.

I eventually got to the Highway 36, which leads to the town of Chester, but I didn’t stop there, instead pushing on to Lassen National Park. It’s a bit of a burn area, unfortunately. In fact, a lot of Northern California has been a burn area. I still got some cool photos though!

After Lassen was the town of Old Station. Like the last couple towns, it’s very small, and in the middle of nowhere. There’s an RV Park, a post office, a gas station, and that’s it. I was lucky enough to run into a nice family that fed me, and let me stay at their campsite free of charge. (I sent them a link to my blog, so if y’all are reading this, thanks again!)

I made this video after I left old station. It’s a cute lookout. One correction though: I say that Shasta is to the south, it is actually to the north. Lassen is to the south, and you can see it’s north face, Shasta is to the North, and you can see it’s south face.

I’ve been staying at the Burney Mountain Guest Ranch, I took a day off to recover. I was complaining that I hadn’t taken a day off in 200 miles back in South Lake Tahoe, but I hadn’t taken a proper day off in 300 miles for this last stretch! The terrain is a lot easier though, so it really wasn’t that bad. I’m gonna head out soon. My next stop is Dunsmuir, which is about 90 miles from here. Until then!

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Eaton Fire Leaves California Landscape Charred

On the afternoon of January 11, 2025, NASA’s AVIRIS-3 (Airborne Visible/Infrared Imaging Spectrometer-3) flew aboard a B200 aircraft over Los Angeles County, where it captured images of several areas affected by wildland fires.

These false-color images show areas burned by the Eaton fire in Altadena and parts of Pasadena, Arcadia, and Sierra Madre. Charred trees and buildings in developed areas appear dark brown, whereas the burned wildland areas, particularly in Angeles National Forest, are shades of orange.

The Eaton fire ignited in the hills of Eaton Canyon, near Altadena, on the evening of January 7. By 10:30 a.m. the next day, the fire had quickly grown to cover more than 10,000 acres (40 square kilometers), according to Cal Fire. Around the time of this image on January 11, it had expanded to 14,117 acres (57 square kilometers), and the Los Angeles County Fire Department reported it was about 15 percent contained.

The AVIRIS-3 optical sensor collects data in 286 bands in the electromagnetic spectrum, ranging from visible violet light at a wavelength of 380 nanometers to shortwave infrared at 2,500 nanometers. In the past, AVIRIS images have been useful for investigating fire behavior and the effects of fire emissions. They are also used for post-fire analyses, such as fire severity, area burned, soil erosion, and other environmental change.

“In addition to assisting with damage assessments, these data may help us understand the chemical composition and toxic nature of ash in the post-fire environment and how it redistributes over time via wind and water flows, with subsequent data acquisitions,” said Michael Falkowski, manager of NASA’s wildland fire program.

As of the morning of January 15, the Eaton fire had stopped expanding, and it was 45 percent contained. Preliminary estimates indicate that thousands of structures were destroyed, according to Cal Fire.

NASA’s Disasters Response Coordination System has been activated to support agencies responding to the fires, including the California Governor’s Office of Emergency Services. Response activities are centered on two primary requests from the local emergency managers: damage assessment information on built infrastructure, and impacts of air quality and human health risks. The team will be posting maps and data products on its open-access mapping portal as new information becomes available.

Explore interactive maps of these images on the AVIRIS data portal.

NASA Earth Observatory images annotated by Lauren Dauphin using data from Airborne Visible / Infrared Imaging Spectrometer-3 (AVIRIS-3) instrument, via NASA Earthdata Search. Story by Emily Cassidy.

[whumpy-bi]

Original Work: The Investigator

Warnings: implied kidnapping to be explored in future installments, disappearances

Words: 1097

Note: this is way longer than most of my other posts, but I wanted to try a more substantial story with my own characters. This is also just going to be a collection of whump tropes I particularly enjoy, so I hope y’all like it too!

Owen had sent the message to his consultant around two in the morning, when he absolutely should’ve been sleeping. But, instead, he was hunched over his computer as usual, multiple tabs open with deep web pages and unmarked files he’d personally found.

This is happening too much to be a coincidence. There’s a pattern here.

Owen opened up his map program again, marking out every disappearance he’d been told about in the last six months. Every victim—they ranged in age and background, Owen couldn’t observe a pattern with them—was last seen in the same area, a long stretch of road across town with an array of local businesses and offices. He knew the street, it was only a few blocks away, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been there. The authorities had written all of them off as runaways, they had mostly dismissed all of them. But what were the odds of so many people, in so many circumstances, going missing in the same place?

Owen mumbled to himself, resting his head on his hand. “There’s no way. No way.”

He scrolled through the map, watching the road as it moved further and further south into a huge stretch of woods. Miles and miles of empty land, nothing but trees and a single road separating them.. Until—

Owen stopped when he spotted a building from overhead, zooming in and squinting. He typed the address out to his companion, sending it along with a screenshot.

This looks like an old cabin or something. What can you find?

His friend replied within minutes. Evidently, they also couldn’t sleep.

This guy owns it, he’s been real active in the search parties. Owns a big chunk of the land out there. Some kinda survivalist guy, runs a blog about it.

The investigator looked over the link his friend attached, reading the basic information of a social media page. “Benjamin, huh?” He mumbled to nobody in particular. “Looks like he’s got the only property on this road. Guess he won’t mind if I take a look around.”

I’ll head down there tomorrow. Maybe he can answer some questions about what’s going on.

Dude, what if he calls the cops?

I won’t do anything illegal, relax. Just a friendly guy coming by to ask about the area.

You’re not gonna break in again?

That was one time, okay? I swear to god, no break-ins.

Owen did manage to get a few hours of sleep after that, driving out to the cabin a few hours into the morning. Even with the summer warmth and bright sunlight, the expansive forest was beginning to creep him out. He could easily see how people went missing in this—if you lost sight of the road, you could absolutely find yourself stuck in an endless loop of trees and rocks and soil. No distinguishing landmarks, no breaks in the trees to civilization. Whatever search parties went through here, Owen could imagine they might have missed something.

When he pulled up, the house looked well loved. Hydrangea bushes in the front, colorful and watered, a very nice-looking vintage truck in the driveway, and a (somewhat tacky) Memorial Day sign hanging on the front door.

Owen awkwardly knocked on the door under the sign, his jaw shifting as he heard someone fiddling with the lock. The man who opened the door regarded him with a smile.

Owen’s first thought was that he looked like the photo he’d seen—pale, with light brown hair and a thick beard and eyebrows. His eyes were dark, but they looked kind, and Owen felt at ease for a moment.

“How can I help you, mister…?”

“Uh—hi. I’m, uh…Owen Jones, I’m a private investigator. I just had a few questions about—“ He gestured to the forest surrounding them. “The area, I heard you might be familiar with it.”

“Of course! Not to boast too much, but—“ The older man smiled wide. “I’m probably the most familiar with these woods.”

Owen smiled, his expression naturally warm and approachable. “That’s great. I’ve been tracking a couple…disappearances, recently. One of the victim’s families really hopes I can find an answer, you know?”

“Of course, of course. It’s been really tragic, I’ve been helping the police look for all those people. You seen the last one? Poor girl, young. About your age, I think, really horrible. I’ve still been keeping an eye out, myself.”

Owen frowned, nodding in agreement with his words. “Yeah, I did see the woman who just went missing. It’s happening a lot, so—I guess I just need to know if you’ve noticed anything suspect. Anything at all.”

The homeowner rubbed his jaw in thought. “Not that I’ve noticed, unless you count the occasional bear sighting. Some weird noises at night, maybe? But I could be hearin’ things.”

Owen nodded, his hand twitching a bit as he listened. “Well, I’ll give you my card…just in case you do hear anything. Maybe we can stop the next incident, right?”

“I’ll certainly keep an ear out.”

The younger man glanced back at his car, wincing. “Hey—could I use your bathroom before I go? Long drive back.”

Owen blinked slowly as he washed his hands in the cabin’s bathroom, glancing between his hands and his reflection. “Well…this was a whole waste of time, but at least he’s nice.” He frowned, remembering his previous experience with a very angry and very intense mechanic who had once threatened to kill him for daring to ask questions on his property.

As he smirked to himself at the memory of the man’s face, his eyes drifted to the window. The house had a small backyard, a little space of grass before the endless ocean of trees. It seemed nice—a fire pit, a single lawn chair and a bird feeder. But Owen’s eyes locked on something that seemed out of place, under the colorful lawn chair.

A dark metal circle, flat against the ground. It was just barely peeking out from under the chair, but it was unmistakable.

Owen’s mumble was barely audible. “What the hell…?”

He was heading for the front door a few minutes later, adjusting his blazer over his shirt as he walked out. “Thanks for talking with me, Benjamin, i appreciate it a lot!” A canned spiel Owen had said hundreds of times, the friendly words were automatic and (hopefully) convincing. He typed out a text message to his associate, finishing and sending it before he was back in his car.

I’m coming back tonight, something didn’t feel right. I’ll need you to drive in case it goes wrong.

[doctorguilty]

griping about popular post but I don't wanna comment on it and potentially get too much attention and dogpiled

bad and terrible take I'm sorry like the "individual action is not effective" because "the fundamental problem is [higher institution]" is applicable to stuff like, "reducing your carbon footprint by driving electric cars and using metal straws makes minimal impact on the planet because multi billion dollar corporations are deep frying the planet" and even THAT concept has more to do with like personal sacrifice vs personal accountability.

For example if I spend extra money on sustainable eco-friendly food products and exhaust my food budget so that I go hungry at the end of the month, for the sake of individual action to like help save the earth, it is not worth hurting myself for because no amount of only purchasing free-range eggs will make an impact equal to me as a human being with basic needs and rights to food. And being guilt tripped and told I'm selfish for eating cheap eggs instead so that I have enough money to eat every day is bullshit.

At the same time, it DOES NOT mean that because your individual actions are small in the grand scheme of things, it is a waste of effort to do actions that DON'T negatively impact your life, health, or wallet. Like separating recycles from the trash, buying affordable cotton/wool/leather clothing instead of stuff made of plastics, those are still worthwhile things to do if you HAVE the ability, if you ARE capable.

Equating masking to the like, propaganda of "individual actions are necessary self sacrifice, go green at the cost of your well being while we spill 300 tons of oil into the ocean" is stupid, it's not the same thing. It's more like the separating-your-recycles thing but not even that either. Because it's not about the nebulous concept of "the planet" or the "wildlife and forests", it's about your NEIGHBORS, your fellow people at their jobs and at the store and living their lives, doing something individual for THEM, and it does ABSOLUTELY matter and make an impact.

It makes a HUGE impact every single day what you choose to do around other people; wearing a mask could be the difference between, what, you wearing a piece of cloth over your face that is uncomfortable sometimes? versus a cashier getting sick and having to stay home from work and lose a chunk of their paycheck, versus a child at the store catching your infection and bringing it to school with them and they all bring it home to their families, versus an elderly person who lives alone taking care of themselves, becoming bedridden and no one can get them groceries or pick up their medication at the pharmacy.

That stuff REALLY fucking matters and that doesn't even start breaking ground of disabled people, that op was really quick to throw under the bus?? oh society has forsaken them, it's an institutional, such a shame. nothing we can do about it. (also like. who was even talking about cons or events when it came to any of this.......because as far as I know everyone was like, please just wear a mask when you go to the store. to the doctor's office. like wha?)

oh, you feel bad it's being "moralized"? you don't like feeling personally responsible? it's uncomfortable when us undesirables are forsaken by everyone in power and all we can do is beg and plead to be considered by the average person in our vicinity? like honestly, op is right in the sense that the hard statistics when it comes to how much of an impact 1 person in a crowd of 500 don't really matter, but you know when I see that 1 person I think, god at least someone cares. Like. I mean it's complete misinfo to say it does nothing for disease transmission but since people don't care about THAT anyway, then yeah it IS a moral issue and you should feel bad about it! you should feel bad ignoring our voices, you should feel bad when we die, and you should feel bad if all it takes to even communicate to us, "I hope my choice does matter enough to save even 1 person in the world" is wear a piece of cloth on you face and you think that's equitable to corporate ceos guilting you over not driving hybrid cars while they tear down forests to build parking lots over, you think disabled people asking for a sliver of consideration on par with like, taking the grocery cart back to the return so it doesn't smack into someone's car is the same thing as oppressive institutions scapegoating poor people and profit from it...... like I think you've lost the plot, terribly.

[redrosesartcabin]

The Meeting

Megatron x reader fanficition ( can be found here as well https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrosessoulcabin)

Previous chapter + explanation to the fanfic: https://www.tumblr.com/redrosesartcabin/722529797578833920/double-posting-my-fanfic-now?source=share

Link to the next chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/redrosesartcabin/722530473830678528/beginning-of-scenarios-1-scenario-hands

—

You lived and loved to live far outside of societies reaches, up in a little cabin within a mountain range in a small forest. You owned a flock of sheep that resided in a valley just five hundred meters away from your house where your Border-Collie took care of them most of the day. You also had a couple of chickens and two cats called Ying and Yang because one of them was completely black and the other white. That had been complete coincidence, you had just wanted two of the cats of a litter by the cat of a friend of yours and they had suggested taking these two and with utter delight you had agreed.

In spring and summer during certain holidays you also hosted an activity center for children. There, you taught them to live in nature and how to build your own garden with vegetables that’ll grow right as well as how to take care of animals and have them be providers to you and you to them. And in their free time they could explore the forest. It brought joy to you to be part of a movement that brought children back to being free instead of enslaved by technology. Here they could unfold their little personalities and become grounded.

All in all, one could say life was good, although sometimes you felt there was something missing. Work became dull at times and the responsibilities of your animals became too much. It wasn’t enough to convince you to return to the city or go to an office job, never again! Fulfillment was still there or almost within reach and somehow you knew, when one day you walked upon a giant robot, that perhaps that’s where that journey would finally end.

 You didn’t know why that feeling had flourished rapidly in your heart.

You had just been out, collecting mushrooms in a little woven basket. For that you always travelled the same path because after a couple of years you noticed that’s where they grew best and healthiest. Walking through a particular part of the woods, that you knew to be pretty dark at all times of day, revealed an unusual change, because now thick rays of light shone through the cracks of splintered trees.

“What in the world happened here?”, you asked yourself in a soft, quiet tone, following the destruction to its source until there was a big, broad patch of burned stumps and flattened moss and grass that reached for what you guessed was about one kilometer towards the highest mountain range. You followed that trail for five minutes until a big machine came into view. Or at least it seemed to be a machine at first, but the closer you came, the more obvious it became it was, as previously mentioned, a giant robot. Although quite an unusual one. It had something very human as what you perceived as its ribcage heaved up and down in heavy breaths. You slowly and carefully walked towards its side until you arrived, with considerable distance to it, at its head. Shockingly enough there was an entire face and red, dangerous looking eyes, eyes, that weren’t closed but staring contemplatively up at the sky.

Your breath hitched and you stayed frozen. A part of you told you to run but the other couldn’t. There was a fascination with this being inside of you and you couldn’t leave.

 “Who are you?”, you heard your voice speak after a while. ‘What’ was perhaps more appropriate, you thought within nanoseconds of asking but this humanoid form the robot had and the way it stared and breathed gave it a familiarity you had with your species that your subconsciousness couldn’t ignore. When a couple of moments passed with silence, you began to think that perhaps it couldn’t understand, be it because it had its own language or perhaps it wasn’t so human and intelligent after all. But as you began to carefully move towards it to try and ask again it suddenly said, “I… I am a monster”.

The voice was masculine, deep, and raspy. There was something terrifying and gentle at the same time about it and made your entire body shiver neither pleasantly nor unpleasantly.

 “I don’t believe that”, you said kindly, suddenly feeling the urge to comfort him (it was a ‘him’ and not an It without a doubt to you now).

“You should”, he answered, deep sadness wavering in his voice, “You don’t know who I am”, he stated.

“Well then let’s start introducing ourselves-“, you began but he interrupted you.

“For what purpose? I am here to die.”, he explained matter-of-factly as if it was something one could just say like that.

“Are you that badly hurt?”, you asked, concern very present in your voice.

“No”, he answered, deeply touched by your worrying, “And I might even know where to get nourishment in these parts of your world, but I shouldn’t. I should be left to rust. I do not wish to return to the life I have led for eons ever again, but I also cannot become anything else. There is no life for me to lead anymore”.

 You now moved even closer to him, at first still carefully, not knowing if he would mind but he didn’t seem to care much. He still hadn’t even looked at you, gaze still fixed on the feathery clouds that adorned the sky today. You gently placed a hand on the side of one of the spikes on his shoulders. You felt him softly shudder under your touch.

“One can always find something better than death in life”, you said, “Not my quote by the way. I heard it in an interview with a man much wiser than I, but I agree…

So, tell me”, you insisted, “Who are you?”

He sighed, “You will never stop insisting, will you?”

“No”, you smiled.

“No silent decay for me if I shall not answer?”, he asked.

“Never”, you confirmed.

He sighed again, “My name”, he breathed out, “is Megatron. I was the leader of the Deceptions. I am the destroyer of my home planet; I am the lord of destruction, I-“

“I remember”, you suddenly said, “A few years ago there was talk that some alien being called Megatron wanted to take over our world. I remember the catastrophes, the terrible phenomenon all over the world of tornados and all of that-“

“-And precisely that, no being could ever forgive. There is no way to redeem what I have done to your people and to my people”, he stated, interrupting you as you recounted the events.

“Perhaps not”, you agreed, “But maybe it’s also not my place to forgive. But finding you here, I feel this responsibility now to have faith in you.”

“Why?”, he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Because Death comes soon enough, even for beings like you. And perhaps exactly because you live so long, there are even more chances to become something else. That does not mean you should ever be completely forgiven for your crimes, but I think you are punished enough, and karma will find even more ways to do so. But when it comes to my role to play now in your life, then it’s to give you a chance to redeem yourself as I know you to want… I don’t know why I trust this feeling so much, why I’m so sure, but I just am.”

 And finally, Megatron looks at you. His wine-colored eyes meet your white eye-apples and comparatively to him and his species dull yet colorful irises. Your body wears such a kind nature, his spark seems to break in half. And suddenly he, as well, feels this certainty, though he doesn’t know if he deserves this.

He stretches out his hand to yours and you take it with a smile, “I feel this is a gift, that I do not intend to waste”, he says, “Though I should never have received it.”

“That’s not for you to judge”, you say and don’t elaborate who it is that should judge it, though perhaps, Megatron thinks, you do not know either. Neither of you, both of you think, know if this is right or wrong, deserved, or undeserved, the start of something beautiful or fated in disaster. All you know is that you met and that you are now to be in each other’s lives and maybe… maybe that’s all that matters.

[vizcommsigns]

Beyond the Brush: How Custom Vinyl Wall Graphics Redefine Interior Branding and Design

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Environmental Considerations (Increasingly): Modern vinyl films are becoming more environmentally friendly, with options for PVC-free materials, solvent-free inks, and recyclability. The durability also means less frequent replacement, contributing to reduced waste compared to more ephemeral promotional materials.

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The true power of custom vinyl wall graphics lies in their ability to translate complex design visions into stunning reality:

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Strategic Implementation: What the Experts Consider

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The Transformative Effect: From Space to Experience

Ultimately, custom vinyl wall graphics have the power to do more than just decorate a wall; they transform a static space into a dynamic, engaging, and memorable experience.

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Conclusion

In the contemporary design landscape, custom vinyl wall graphics stand out as a powerful, versatile, and highly impactful solution for interior transformation. Beyond the limitations of traditional painting or wallpaper, they offer a cutting-edge approach to branding, immersive design, and functional aesthetics. By embracing their limitless creative potential, strategic advantages, and the expertise of professional providers, businesses, institutions, and individuals can redefine their spaces, turning ordinary walls into extraordinary visual narratives that engage, inspire, and leave a lasting impression. It's time to look beyond the brush and embrace the dynamic world of custom vinyl wall graphics to truly elevate your environment.