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sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy · 1 month ago

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Stiles is Supernatural Crack

2. Well That Was Clarified Cryptically

Stiles felt like shit. A big, hot, steaming pile of elephant shit that fell ten feet to splat on the ground.

His body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. His head felt like it was going to explode. Even without opening his eyes, the lights made him feel sick. He was nauseous just laying on his back. Everything was a mess in his head.

Two things Stiles knew for sure: one, he definitely had a concussion, and two, he should be dead.

Was he still in the forest? Was he slowly dying, abandoned by his friends? No. No, he wasn’t alone. He could feel people touching him.

He took a breath and— okay, maybe he knew three things for sure— he could smell that he was in the hospital.

“Could someone turn the lights off or something,” Stiles rasped and found himself is shock at his own voice. “Wow, was that my voice? Shit.”

He could tell the lights were dimmed. Stiles opened his eyes and looked around. He was definitely in a hospital and they were totally ignoring fire code. He squinted, looking from face to face. All of the Weres were gathered around him, though they did seem sort of blurry. He ran a metal checklist of his idiots, just to be sure: Scott? Check. Isaac, Jackson? Check and check. Malia, Liam, and Kira were there. Ethan and Derek… Derek?

“Geeze, who died for this family reunion to happen,” Stiles said, trying for joking. In the moment of silence that followed, realized that he should be in more pain. He flipped up the blankets, searching for the bandages that had to be there. He looked over himself and frowned. He was completely healed. He flopped the blankets back down. “Why am I healed? Oh god, who bit me,” he asked, glaring at each person individually before stopping at Scott.

“No,” Scott said honestly. “I don’t know what happened. You touched the Nemeton and…”

“And you screamed and passed out, fully healed,” a gruff voice came from the end of the bed.

Stiles eyes flicked over to the person. Everything was a little blurry but he’d know those grumpy eyebrows anywhere.

“The prodigal son returns. And he speaks,” Stiles declared in a stage whisper. Derek glared at Stiles. “Well, I’m glad our little stray came home. You have no clue how many times I called the pound to make sure they didn’t have you. We’ll have to get you a collar to make sure you get returned if someone finds you, not that they’d want to keep you for long,” Stiles joked, searching his endless mental database of dog jokes. “Maybe we should get you one of those jackets that says ‘Warning: I bite’,” he said gesturing as if he were reading in the empty air. “I hope that vacation served you well, Fido, because we almost died. Many times.”

“Stiles, shut up,” Derek grumbled.

“Maybe later,” Stiles shuffled to sit up properly in the bed, “if nobody bit me, then why does it feel like my blood is buzzing?”

“That’s not a werewolf thing,” Jackson said with a look of disgust.

“Great, then what thing is it,” Stiles groaned.

“Sounds like a Stiles thing to me,” Liam shrugged. “Ya know, ADHD and all.”

Stiles gave a tight lipped smile. “Liam, if I didn’t have a concussion,” he held his hand up in emphasis, “I would explain to you how stupid—” Stiles was cut short when a spark of some sort left from his hand and hit Liam, knocking him off his chair with a yelp. Stiles stopped mid sentence, mouth agape. What was that? He was terrified but the buzzing grew weaker.

Scott moved to tend to Liam and looked at Derek. “We need to talk to Deaton.”

Without missing a beat, the room clamored to action. It was almost like they had done this before so many times that it was so streamlined that it could practically be considered instinct, oh wait.

It was a system Stiles and Lydia made up to accommodate the needs of the pack. It went like this: Scott and Liam went to find one of their parents and gave them a name and key phrase that gave them the situation at a glance— ‘radio call’ for a Big Bad on the loose, ‘pet’ meant they needed Deaton, ‘book club’ meant they had to do research, and ‘emergency’ was left to mean I’ll explain later— without giving them away. The situation determined the vehicle. Between the group they had two motorcycles and one to five cars they could use(depending on whose was still running). Two people went to get the vehicle and at least one stayed with the injured party.

Today, Scott and Liam went to find Melissa as she was about to get off her night shift. Ethan and Jackson went for a car. Which left way too many people on Stiles watch. Even with so many people, the silence was palpable. Somehow, Malia and Derek ended up being the people to help Stiles get dressed.

Melissa came back with Liam and Scott. She shooed as many people out of the room as she could, meaning she was left with Scott, Derek, and Malia still in the room. She cleared him, giving the usual concussion rules.

Stiles could feel that they were all on edge.

“Just say it,” Stiles grumbled.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Melissa told him, writing on the chart.

“Jeasus Christ, Nogitsune,” Stiles said loudly and the room stopped moving. Everything seemed to stop moving. “There, I said it. You’re all thinking it and I said it, right Scott?”

Scott shook his head, stepping closer to Stiles but still keeping his distance. “That’s not–”

“Boo,” Stiles yelled and the whole room jumped.

It was a split second– Scott pulled his mom back, Derek stared expectantly, Malia’s claws grew out– but it hurt to know he was right.

Stiles nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s what I thought.”

An oppressive silence hung in the room. It was heavy and dark. It was the same feeling Stiles had when they found out he was the nogitsune. He felt like he was reliving that part of his life all over again.

Liam knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a reply. “Ethan and Jackson have the car ready. They just texted the group.”

“Great. Now you get to be in close quarters with scary Stiles,” Stiles huffed, standing up.

“Oh no,” Melissa said, pulling away from Scott to make Stiles sit back down. “Nogitsune or not, you are sick, Stiles. I refuse to let you walk around like nothing's wrong before we know for sure.”

“Melissa, please stop babying me. I’m all healed,” Stiles said tiredly.

“I’m not ‘babying’ you, I’m being careful. Wheelchair or stay,” Melissa said sternly and she was not the person to be crossed.

Stiles groaned. “Fine. I’ll deal with the wheelchair,” he muttered.

They managed to sneak Stiles out of the hospital after he forged his dad’s signature on the discharge papers. They really shouldn’t have let him leave for a couple days. He had literally been knocked unconscious by head trauma.

The car ride didn’t help. Note to self: DO NOT let Derek drive if he is stressed. Stiles was pretty sure he could add whiplash to the growing list of things that were wrong with him. He was sure they’d get pulled over.

When the sirens started, he thought they were being pulled over.

“Uh, Derek, there’s a cop behind you. Lights, sirens, the whole nine,” Stiles said but Derek just nodded.

“That’s your dad,” Jackson said from the passenger seat. “Fuck, I’m glad this isn’t my car,” he muttered under his breath.

Stiles looked at Jackson in confusion. “This isn’t your car?”

“It’s Derek’s,” Jackson told Stiles like he was stupid. “This is a Camaro. I drive a Porsche.” Stiles shook his head and Jackson gave him a disturbed look. “I’m going to pretend this is the concussion talking so I don’t feel like punching you.”

“Uh, whatever you say man,” Stiles sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Both rich white boy cars anyway…"

Derek looked in the rearview and saw Stiles seeming to relax. He growled quietly to himself and Jackson scooted closer to the door, looking obviously uncomfortable.

Scott saw the look in Derek’s eyes. It was strange. Everything about him was strange. He wreaked of nervousness and fear but he hid behind a look of anger. There was something else hanging in the chemosignals that Scott chose to ignore. Not now. Not yet.

Scott’s attention turned to Stiles, hearing his heartbeat starting to fall into a slower pattern. “Stiles,” he said softly, bumping his friend, “you’re not supposed to go to sleep yet.”

Stiles startled awake. His own jerky movements made him feel sick. He groaned and hung his head between his knees. This fucking sucked. Everything was spinning so badly that he didn’t notice when they parked. It wasn’t until the door opened and he could hear his dad’s voice that he realized they had stopped.

A fuzzy figure loomed at the door and Stiles squinted, his eyes trying to adjust for the light and failing. “Dad,” he asked as the looming shadow moved closer.

“Stiles! Stiles, I’m here,” Sheriff said from a distance.

If he was out there… The figure easily picked Stiles up and let out an irritated groan. “Do you ever fucking eat,” the person huffed and, ya, Stiles knew that voice.

“I can assure you he does,” Sheriff said, still on edge.

Stiles smirked, looking up at the person’s face as if he wasn’t having issues adjusting for the light. “Come on, Derek. You and me, eating competition. I’ll wipe the floor with your wolfy ass.”

Derek rolled his eyes and walked into Deaton’s office. He set Stiles down on the metal table. He flinched, groaning at the cold metal that seemed to pull out all of his body heat. There was a distinct fabric shuffling and a warm coat was draped around Stiles’ shoulders. It was rough and heavy and familiar. It smelled like his dad. He felt like a kid sitting in the station and waiting for his dad to finish his paperwork for the night again.

Deaton walked into the room and looked at Stiles for no more than a second before saying "ah, that does make sense."

"What," Derek, Stiles, and Sheriff Noah all asked at once.

Deaton raised his eyebrows. "The Nemeton is dead. It holds no more magic—" he started only for Stiles to cut him off.

"What,” Stiles asked in shock. “How does that make sense?”

"Mr. Stilinski— sorry,” Deaton said, pausing to apologize to the Sheriff before addressing Stiles once more. “Stiles, did you nearly die on or near the Nemeton?"

“What happened,” Sheriff asked loudly, making Stiles flinch at the sound.

"No, the track marks are because I started doing heroin,” Stiles said deadpan. “I just got discharged from the hospital, what do you think?"

"You healed unusually fast..." Deaton said. It was a leading question and Stiles knew it.

Stiles took a deep breath and looked at Scott, "....... Scott, am I a werewolf or some other were-creature?"

"No."

"Great,” he turned back to Deaton, “what are you implying Deaton?"

"I am saying that you, Stiles, now hold the magic of the Nemeton."

Stiles froze, trying to think of anything he could say. "You see, I have a concussion so I thought you just said that I, Mieczysław ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, now have– in me– the magic of the Nemeton. So, could you run that by me one more time?"

“Your name is what,” Jackson asked.

“Shut up, Jackson. Not now,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

Sheriff stepped forward. “Just to clarify, Stiles is going to be okay. No… weird, evil side effects,” he asked.

“I can assure you, Noah, there will be no evil side effects but I believe Stiles has already been experiencing some strange things,” Deaton said, glancing at Stiles pointedly.

“You mean like zapping Liam or my blood buzzing,” Stiles snarked.

“Whoa, what,” Sheriff asked. “Your blood is buzzing?” He sighed. “When did this become our normal?”

Deaton nodded. “What about the pull? To clarify, you would not be experiencing this directly but your supernatural friends would.”

“Well that was clarified cryptically,” Stiles scoffed.

“This is very serious, Stiles,” Deaton said. “You have gained a very powerful ancient magic in seconds. People who train all their lives have only dreamed of being able to control this much power,” Deaton told him firmly.

“Alright, you didn’t exactly answer my question and this sounds dangerous. Will Stiles be okay,” Noah asked, stepping forward to place a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Deaton took a deep breath. “It is possible that if Stiles does not learn to control his newly gained magic, it may have a negative effects on his mental state.”

“Oh great,” Stiles huffed a stressed laugh, “so it’s going to destroy the last bit of sanity the Nogitsune left and exacerbate the constant state of anxiety I live in.” The room fell quiet as Stiles stared down Deaton.

“I mean, I already killed Allison and caused Aiden’s death along with so many others, so why should it matter that I hurt another one of my friends with shity magic I can’t control?” God, if the damn buzzing didn’t stop, he was going to lose it! It was like his skin vibrating now!

“Learning to control and understand your magic will help keep anything like that from happening,” Deaton said calmly as if Stiles hadn’t just poured out his soul five seconds ago. “From what I hear, you’ve already used some fairly powerful defensive magic.”

“You mean when I hurt Liam,” Stiles asked, feeling irritated and guilty.

“When you killed the Chupacabra, was it,” Deaton said and Derek nodded.

Stile scoffed, looking up at Deaton. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything, I was too busy, ya know, bleeding out and dying!”

“Stiles, nobody pulled it off of you,” Derek said and Stiles turned to look at him. He saw a soft, worried expression on Derek’s face. He was telling the truth. “I saw you swing your arm– I thought you had the bat– and it sent everyone flying back.”

Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. “No.” No way he could have done that. He had been so weak from the blood loss and pain he’d barely bumped it, even though he used what strength he’d had left. There was no way. Someone else had to have helped.

Stiles’ brain was everywhere and nowhere ten-thousand times worse than usual. He was pretty sure an Eichen House special consisting of trepanation and neglect would be more comfortable.

“Stiles, it was halfway across the clearing when it landed,” Scott added. “We saw what seemed like lightning. For a second, we thought it was Kira but…” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “you were just laying there, alone and bleeding…”

Stiles frowned, looking at his friend. He hated it when Scott was hurting. Sure, he was an idiot and could be a total ass but he didn’t deserve any of this. He didn’t deserve to have to watch his friends die over and over.

“You said Stiles would attract Supernatural creatures,” Derek asked, his voice pulling Stiles’ attention away from Scott.

“Not just supernatural creatures,” Deaton said. “As I’m sure you observed, all manner of creatures will find the Nemeton if they are hurt or lost.”

“So, I’m a Disney princess,”Stiles asked.

Sheriff shook his head. “I better not end up with squirrels or racoons in my attic. Again.” He gave Stiles a serious look. “I have to get back to work,” he said, pulling Stiles into a side hug, kissing the top of his head. “Be more careful, kid.” With those few words, the Sheriff left Stiles to the care of his friends and headed back for the station.

“You said your blood was buzzing,” Deaton asked Stiles.

“Uh,” he pulled the jacket his father had left with him tighter and dragged his brain back to Deaton. “Ya. that’s what it feels like, I guess.”

Deaton nodded and went to get a book. When he returned, he set the book down on the metal table and opened it to a page close to the middle.

“Hold up. Don’t the things in there get harder the further you go in the book? Why don’t we start at the beginning,” Stiles asked, trying to read and barely managing a few words of sensical english.

Deaton looked at Stiles. “The further in the book, the more power and focus it takes.”

“I didn’t have focus to begin with and I have a concussion and possible brain damage,” Stiles defended.

“You also have an inordinate amount of power. If you want to sleep in the next week, I suggest doing as I say.”

Stiles held his hands up in protest. He did his best to listen as Deaton explained it to him. It was a weirdly simple spell– all he had to do was draw a symbol and repeat two sentences– but Deaton assured him it was much harder than it sounded.

Deaton gave Stiles a wooden clip board and a marker. He told him to say the words as he drew the symbol. Stiles shrugged but started to draw the symbol. He stopped halfway through, forgetting the words and had to start over again a few times to get it. When he finally did it right, he felt accomplished.

Then he started swaying.

Derek moved quickly, placing a hand on Stiles’ back to keep him steady.

He felt weak and dazed. God, his head hurt too.

Deaton grabbed a granola bar out of his desk and gave it to Stiles. “You’ll want this,” he said and took the clipboard. “Scott,” he waved him over, “come here. I want you to try to break this clipboard.”

Scott did as he was told and walked over. He took the clipboard– knowing full well he had accidentally broken one of these clipboards when he got irritated with a pet owner– and gave enough pressure that he thought would break it.

“Damn,” Scott remarked, looking down at the clipboard. He gave it more force and felt it start to bend. “What did you do to this thing, Stiles,” he joked. He finally gave it a sharp push and it snapped in two.

“Did I do that or is Scott weak,” Stiles asked and Derek held back a smirk.

“That spell should help calm your power and is also a great way to protect yourself and others,” Deaton said. “Be careful, it does take a lot out of you.”

Stiles looked at the others and back to Deaton. “What about other ones? Things that would take less power so I could do more of them.”

Deaton looked Stiles over, then at Scott, and back to Stiles. “I will allow you to borrow this book. Do not do anything beyond page eighty-six without someone nearby. If you overdo it, it can be very dangerous.” Stiles nodded and took the book from Deaton. “I expect this back in the same condition it is now.”

Stiles found himself pouring over the book in the car. Jackson watched him over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“What happened to ‘I can’t focus, I have a concussion’,” Jackson asked in a mocking voice.

“I don’t know… Just feels better, ya know,” Stiles mutters and Jackson looked at Derek. “Is Scott meeting us at my house?”

“He said he was,” Jackson said. “He wanted to stop at his place to get something or other.”

Stiles hummed and went back reading the book. Occasionally humming about things he found interesting and would mumble something soon after. Jackson picked up on the nervous energy coming off of Derek and would look at Stiles and then to Derek if he heard something.

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cressthebest · 11 months ago

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Art Heist, Baby! thoughts pt. 14

we’re nearing the end yall and i’m getting HELLA nervous. five chapters left. and reg is gonna die. i’m not ready

chapter 34:

1. the mulciber swap went perfect. still nervous though

2. the heist is almost over. and they’re all splitting up to go places. i don’t think i can handle this

3. god, it’s the lucius swap. i don’t think it’s gonna go well. i’m so worried

4. “Regulus cleared his throat. “I just want to say that it had been a privilege and an honour to conduct this heist with all of you. Each of you are brilliant individuals and I couldn’t have asked for a better team.”” sobbing so badly rn. horrifically sobbing. oh my god. the death must be this chapter. it feels all like a final goodbye, and it probably is for reg

5. reg wants to fix his relationship with sirius over a hundred cups of coffee. that sounds so nice

6. reg is looking forward to attending sirius and remus’ wedding! and he’s surprised that sirius wants him there. this. this all feels so foreboding

7. god. they’re face to face with tom riddle. this isn’t gonna end well. i can feel it

8. it was a set up. all reg gets to say is “james run” and then there’s bullets. i almost don’t want to read the rest of the chapter. i don’t even think i’m gonna cry. just quiet resignation. i will be fine. i fucking called it last post tho, saying it would be tom riddles fault.

9. oh gosh. reg is dying right there on the floor, blood pooling in his lungs and he’s telling james not to be scared

10. i was a fool. of course i’m sobbing. i sent my freind a two minute long voice recording while sobbing about how sad i was over the death. they can confirm, though i’m not asking them to

11. reg gives james his ring. oh fuck

12. dying by tom riddles’ hands. drowning in his own blood. of course he dies by drowning

13. on another note, i’m sure that james’ gun kink is very much gone

14. “It wasn’t the amount of blood that had accumulated all over the floor that convinced James that Regulus was dead.

Or the fact that Regulus had stopped the gurgling and wheezing noises several minutes ago as he drifted into cruel stillness.

It wasn’t Barty’s tear stained and blood splattered face. Or Evan’s desperate attempts to shake Regulus awake. It wasn’t even Peter’s sorrowful look upon checking for a pulse. Or his frantic attempts to do CPR anyway.

It was Sirius’ agonised wails as he pleaded and called out to a God he never believed in to spare his brother. To bring him back. “I just got him back,” Sirius screamed. “I just got him back. Please. Don’t do this. Please bring him back. I just got him back.””

this fucking fic i swear to god

15. everyone else is dead, thanks to evan and barty. for once, i agree with their unhinged. it was a slaughter of men on the other side, and i am glad. they are dead, and they don’t even deserve it. they deserve a life of torture for what they did. thank fucking god they’re dead tho. it makes me rest easy

they were supposed to get a house with green or red shutters and get married and travel the world and make tea and orange muffins and snog in art museums and visit their freinds and be happy and in love and never live a mundane life cause they’re rich and together. but NO. it has to all get ruined

im not okay, thank you for asking. i will never be okay, thank you for asking. i never want to be okay again, stop asking.

#marauders #jegulus #art heist baby #james potter #mwpp #mwpp era #regulus black #fanfic #ao3 #sirius black #sirius and regulus #sobbing crying throwing up #tears are streaming down my face #literally sobbing #barty crouch junior #evan rosier #cress' ahb reviews

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hyperfixiation-station · 11 months ago

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Random Snippets/Prompts List

CW: Canon typical violence, unhinged thoughts Feel free to use these in requests or ask for me to expand them or something :3

Masterlist Side note: I don't know if these qualify as prompts. I'm not 100% what makes a prompt a prompt lmao

1.) He was still there, his scent in your sheets, his toothbrush on your counter. His jacket still hung in your closet, and you’d found a spare holster in your sock drawer last night. It wasn’t fair, how his ghost haunted your footsteps when the man himself had brushed you off like you were nothing.

2.) “Please” You sob, tears dripping onto his pale face, “wake up Simon. Wake up!”

3.) “Are we seriously working with a Princess? There is no way some bratty socialite is going to be of any-” His words cut off as Price opens the door, revealing a short brunette standing at the head of the table, pointing to a spot on the map. Her head was tilted to the side, no crown to be seen. Soap slowly closes his mouth, staring hard at the woman in front of him.

4.) You lie in the mud, trying to hold on to consciousness but you're so weak from loss of blood. All you want is to see Soap and Ghost one last time, you want to tell them that you love them and that you'd do it again if given the choice.

5.) “I’m not afraid of dying, and I’m definitely not afraid of you.”

“I am going to break you down, bit by bit, until you are a shell of who you are now. And then I am going to build back up into what I want you to be. I want to see the look on your ‘friends’ faces when I send you out to destroy them. I want to hear you screaming at night when you realize what you did. And I will do that for as long as it takes to make you mine. And the best part will be when you look back and say thank you. So yes, you should be very afraid of me. Because I can do so much more than kill you.”

6.) “You are just as bad as I am!”

“You’re wrong!”

“Really? Am I? Name one way I differ from you.”

“I…you…

“She’ll hate you after this.”

7.) “You’re hurting her.”

“I know.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because I’m protecting her.”

“Protecting her? By pushing her away? By..by manipulating and…and…and emotionally abusing her? I don’t see how that is supposed to ‘help her’.”

8.) Don’t go where I can not follow. The whispered pleadings of a broken, desperate man. Stay with me. I need you.

9.) "So scared, even now. I wonder, do you still wake up screaming? Are you still filled with horror whenever someone touches you?"

10.) "I hope you know I broke out of prison for this."

11.) "Just because we love people doesn't mean they are always right. The people we lover can still believe in the wrong things. Can do awful, terrible things. That doesn't mean they don't love you. Or that you don't love them. But that doesn't mean you have to be like them.

and that's all for now, it will be update periodically as I get new ideas :3

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost fanfiction #cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty fanfic #call of duty

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deadendsave · 2 years ago

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Todd Hodges’ Journal (1) (2023)

1: My morning was shit. I started cleaning up the bar like usual but then, just as I was about to finish up, the radio announced that LHV was just a fancy way of saying ‘rabies on steroids’ - The CDC had been keeping this all under wraps, of course. But some nosy hero went and leaked the information to the public. I wonder if he’s still alive.

2: Portland is now under mandatory evacuation. Great. Because nothing screams “safety” like cramming everyone into their cars and clogging up the roads, right? The panic alone will be enough to start a traffic jam, that’s not even taking into account all the who can barely drive under normal circumstances. What do you get when you combine a bunch of dumbass drivers with a horde of LHV freaks? A freeway feeding frenzy, that’s what.

3: Yup, I was right. Portland is burning, half of the city engulfed in flames. The roads are a mess, completely blocked off. It’s absolute chaos. And then there’s those LHV freaks - killing people left and right. The whole world has seemed to have lost its mind. Mass hysteria is spreading more than the virus, like it’s going to help anything. Everyone in Millhaven’s waiting for the storm to hit. I say bring it on.

4: Grocery stores are wiped clean, there’s no food to be found. The only gas station in town is completely tapped out, and the pharmacy shelves are as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s Cupboard. People are panic buying up everything in sight. The world ain’t gonna make it if this is how everyone handles disaster.

5: The power’s out all over town. I installed solar panels and bought a generator a while back, that’ll keep me going. But it’s not just the electricity - the cell towers are down too. I can’t get into contact with my brother or John. Rhett I’m not too worried about, but John…

6: Major cities everywhere are evacuating now, some have declared martial law. Now things in Millhaven are going to hell too. We’ve had a few deaths, including one of my regulars who got torn to pieces right in front of the bar. I can’t say I was too fond of the guy, but he tipped well. I got my shotgun and went to check on Margaret at the bookstore, her head had been clean ripped off. She was a good friend to me. May she rest in peace.

7: There’s a big military presence in Millhaven now. I don’t trust them. I’m packing everything up and heading to the farmhouse. Hopefully my truck doesn’t get spotted, these military pricks are having a major power trip and trying to force everyone to stay inside.

8: Those bastards got John and Maddie. Linda’s with me now at the bar, and she’s completely hysterical. I don’t know what to do to calm her down. We still have no idea where Zack is. I never thought I’d find myself in a situation like this. I’m not exactly the best at dealing with emotional breakdowns. Hell, I can barely deal with my own emotions, let alone somebody else’s. But I have to try. It was my best friend’s dying wish to save his wife. Dammit John, I’m gonna miss you.

9: Rhett and Virginia just got here. I’m so relieved, my niece is only 2. Rhett and I have been making sure the place is secure. I even baby-proofed the apartment. Toddlers are even more rabid than the freaks. Delilah’s got a biting problem just like them. Virginia’s been keeping Linda company. She’s a lot better at comforting her than I am.

10: My brother and I sneak out and go hunting during the day. The freaks are staying inside houses so they don’t catch on fire. Rhett made up a game for clearing them out, now we’re seeing who can get the most headshots. I think we’ve done a better job at killing them off than the incompetent soldiers the military sent here.

11: Rhett said they’re leaving with their friends in the morning. They’ve one been here a few weeks. He said they’re all gonna gather up and set up a camp. I don’t know why he wouldn’t just stay here, you know, where there’s power and food. But if that’s what he wants, fine. Forget him. He’s a dumbass, but Virginia… I thought she was smarter than that. Bringing a 2-year-old out in the wilderness during a deadly outbreak is just about the most senseless shit they could do.

12: My jackass of a brother stole my favorite shotgun and half of my shit as he was leaving. He’s not only has he put me and Linda at risk by taking my best weapons and supplies, he’s bringing an innocent child and his wife with him. Their safety was nearly guaranteed here, out there they could get killed in a hundred different ways. I hope they all make it to their dumbass camp for Virginia and Delilah’s sake. If he ever tries to come back here, I’m kicking his ass.

13: It’s been 7 months. No word from my brother. Linda and I have been teaching each other things. I’ve been showing her how to hunt and she’s been teaching me a lot about gardening. I enjoy her company. I thought she’d end up driving me crazy but the woman’s a badass. I underestimated her.

14: I’ve been in contact with other survivors, I’m not telling anyone where I’m staying though. I’m not an idiot. Nobody’s gonna loot my shit again. I’ve been keeping myself busy by reading medical documents from the emergency room. What I saw while I was acquiring them was not a pretty sight, but I got a lot of information. I also got my hands on the mayor’s papers. A lot of money laundering was going on, not that I’m surprised. Michael’s probably hiding away in some fancy bunker and laughing at all of us right now.

15: Millhaven is a ghost town. The military has almost been completely wiped out too, they were incompetent. It’s like Linda and I have got the whole town just to ourselves. A lot of good supplies are still out there. If things continue to go as smoothly as they are now, we’ll last a long time. I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.

Todd Hodges’ Journal (2) (2039)

1: The damn LHV freaks are migrating closer and closer, now they’re infesting the sewers. This place isn’t as secure as it used to be. I’ve seen a few of em out during the day, I don’t know how that’s even possible. They’re evolving, and the burnt up ones are stronger than the others. The DCEU’s back patrolling again, Pierre’s ancient ass is still calling the shots. We’ve got a “don’t poke the bear and the bear won’t poke you.” arrangement.

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abominationvault · 8 months ago

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Session 38: Sat 8 Jun 2024

"I never wash my lucky scalpel."

~ Sprocket

Skabb and Jorg’ath have got chocolate chip shortbread and scones; Nadia is well jel. Baby Wee Jock 1 is not well so Luna, Sprocket and Hartvig (who has gone to their house) are a bit late. Baby Skabb has been demanding macarons - and getting them, this kid’s really got life figured out.

We were in the middle of a fight, and half of us are dead - let’s go!

Top of the round - Skabb. She announces that we’re all ready, then is told it’s her turn. “Ah, bollocks. I’m not that ready.” Can she stop to scoop Sprocket up as we make a tactical retreat? The DM lets her make an athletics check to wallop him out of the room with her wand on her way past. She realises that the hands and the wisps are not reacting as she legs it. Wielding her wand like a hockey stick, she takes aim and - 19! I think?

One of the hands moves to claw at Jorg’ath. 27 to hit, for 7 slashing. Then a ten - miss. Another does the same - ten, then a 16, both miss. Last one goes for Hartvig. He wants to cast Nope but he doesn’t have that spell. 28 to hit, and it takes 8 of his remaining 1 hit point. “I don’t do maths. I’m down.”

Jorg’ath swings his greatsword at the hand? wisp? I can’t see. He wants to grab the ones either side of him in his fists athletics versus their Fortitude saves. Jorg’ath Hero Points his 15 for a 12. “Ohhh… Fuckadoo.” He still has an attempt for the other one though so fingers crossed - 16? No, unfortunately. “How about, meets it beats it?” He is denied.

Luna makes a death save - she is changing BWJ2 so Sprocket rolls for her - 17 and she’s stable.

Nadia takes a potshot and misses, and retreats back down the corridor.

Sprocket makes a death save - natural 20! “I’M ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!” he screams, popping back on his feet with no Wounded condition, and 8hp back! (The DM lets him roll, as a Nat 20 is pretty fuckin cool.)

Hartvig emits gas as a free action, then makes a death save - 6. He is now Dying 2.

A wisp Shocks Jorg’ath but misses. The next one takes three tries - 32, (“Ow!”), 10, and a 7. 9 damage total. The next can only shock him twice. 30, 20 (a miss) for 8 more damage, and the last tries as well but 19 misses.

Is Skabb Frightened? She checks her sheet. No, she’s not. She whips out her wand of magic missile and shoots at a wisp for 12 damage. Nice.

Jorg’ath is flanked, so he has a -2 to his AC. 20 hits now, so he takes some more damage. I miss the exact details, but then it’s his turn. Can he step over a hand to move to the other side of it? Yes, he can. He makes his way to Hartvig to give him a potion and pick him up. 5hp back for Hartvig. For his last action he hurls a javelin at something. 10 misses.

Luna is stable, so she makes no death saves. Nadia runs up and jams a potion down her neck - 7hp back.

Sprocket is up, and he uses an action to stand up. “Well, this is a how-do-you-do.” He flips through his spell cards, looking for something useful. He casts Summon Construct at Level 2, Swarm of Cutlery! He finds its character sheet in his journal, and starts cackling.

There is something amiss; “Did you do this on purpose to punish me, DM?” Neither of them say aloud what the problem is. Ah; the sheet doesn’t seem to be working properly. A short pause. “Try it again,” the DM says. “… Yaaaaay!” Sprocket reads through the information. It has two actions this turn, so it will approach the wisps and do a nice and simple slice and dice. 1d6 piercing or slashing damage to anything in the area that doesn’t make the reflex save, DC17. 22 for the wisp, and again for the hand, and 16 for the second hand. That one takes all 5. Sprocket, proudly: “I have an Area of Effect weapon.”

Hartvig stands up, and Jorg’ath points out a door that will go back to his sexy torture lady, so if he wants to go straight through there he can just crack on. Hartvig declines and makes a run for it instead, squeezing past Nadia, Luna, and the cloud of fists and dust that is the Swarm of Cutlery and the wisps and hands. One breaks off to go and attack Jorg’ath.

23 hits him for 10 Electricity damage. 22 also hits for 10 more. “Spicy! It tingles.” 32 hits for 12 and he’s down.

One remains in the cutlery swarm and goes to shock it. Does 20 hit it? (Luna: “I feel like electrocuting it would just make it worse.”) Its AC is 16 so yes. It has Construct Armour. Sprocket reads out its immunities, but Electricity doesn’t seem to be on it. It has a Hardness of 3, though, so it can reduce the 5 damage to 2.

It gets shocked a bunch more, however, and disappears.

Skabb shoots her Missile Wand again, and is dismayed to see the light in it start to dim. She considers sending Grabbins on a little mission, and does some measuring. Could she do a little recce? That would be an action, yes? Yes. She could drop a potion on Jorg’ath though, right? Yes, dropping something is a free action. Grabby takes the potion in her little hands and flies off around the corner to drop it on the lizard. 8sies back for Jorg’ath!

There is stinky raccoon piss, but I (fortunately) miss the context. Skabb is told to find a piece of paper - for future reference, she can strap a backpack to Grabby as she can carry 1 Bulk (or 10 negligible) of items.

Grabby becomes Frightened 2, from the flicker wisps (or ‘fuckerwisps’).

A hand turns to Nadia and claws at her, then tries to grab her throat - 6 slashing damage. Athletics check versus her Reflex DC - meets it beats it. It is hanging off her throat. “I do not like this.”

(Jorg’ath: “I think Hartvig would probably like it, though.”)

One of the hands claws at Jorg’ath but misses. “When will it end?”

Another scuttles over and goes for Nadia again and misses. In his excitement the DM announces the damage, thinking that 20 hits her, but it doesn’t. Ha!

Jorg’ath slams a potion, and makes a break for it. he takes a swing on his way and hits with a 27 for 5 slashing. “That is me.”

Luna gets up, and immediately wants to stick her rapier through the hand attaching itself to Nadia’s throat. 26 hits! Does it release its grasp? The DM rules that it does. Nadia: “Yay!” Luna wants to skewer all of the hands and kebab them for Skabb. (Skabb imagines they’d still be twitching. Delicious.) She attacks again, but 15 misses. The DM lets her retcon that if she wants to run instead, as she missed the pre-game scheming. She accepts and makes good her escape.

Nadia runs for it, her two parting shots miss, however. (I can’t wait to be able to do trick shots.)

Sprocket is next, and he runs forward and casts Phase Bolt on a hand. “Die, fool!” (Danny Glover.) Howdydoodis! Confidently, to go with his quippy line. He would do finger guns, but he doesn’t have fingers. He drinks a potion with his last action.

Hartvig clarifies that the wisps are immune to spells but not physical effects; would his needle darts spell work, as he’s hurling chunks of metal? The DM rules that it would hit, for the same reason that magical weapons would hit. Hartvig goes for it and misses, spends a Hero Point but gets even less. “… Okay. Well. I tried. Run away!” he finishes, as he legs it.

Jorg’ath gets shocked again for 8 damage. The other attacks miss. A wisp wafts up to the rafters and shocks Grabby Cat. Skabb, horrified: “NO!” It hits, however, with a 32 which is a critical for 31 damage total and she goes ‘poof’. As she disappears, she writes Jorg’ath’s name in her little book of grudges.

It’s Skabbalina’s go. She points her Wand of Missiles again. 4 more damage to the same flickerwisp as before. Are there any hands nearby…? She scans the map. Jorg’ath is looking poorly. She busts out a 2-actioner for him, begrudgingly shuffling forward so she can get him. Even though he just killed Grabby. 14 hp back for the lizard. “Ya nasty, scaly prick.”

A hand scuttles up to try to remove his fresh hit points. 6 slashing. He’s still hanging on! It’s his turn. Can he overcome the innate urge to Barbarian? No, he cannot! He swings at the hand that attacked him, and crits something! Howdydoodis! He turns it to paste and gets the fuck out of there. Skabb asks if there might be any delicious påté on his sword.

Luna takes aim at a scuttling hand. 14 misses. 25 hits! 15 misses. Nadia misses, hits, backs up.

Sprocket shoots a Phase Bolt at a hand but misses. “Smile, you sonofabitch!” And again. “I said smile, you sonofabitch!!… Sprocket sits down.”

Hartvig checks to make sure we’re all within 30 feet, and does a 3-actioner. We all get 9 hp back, but the undead hand makes its save and doesn’t take damage. Skabb pushes an organ or two back in.

The wisps, flickering next to the altar, go dark.

Skabb also does a 3-actioner, and her wand goes off for 5 more damage to the hand - now the only thing in range. The hand fails this time. “Haha! Up your ass, hand.” She rolls 6 on the dice for healing.

The DM starts counting distance; the hand scuttles off into a hole and we leave initiative. The altar is pulsing with strange blue light, as before, but there are no creatures. Skabb splats some mud on herself.

Sprocket wants to know if Horizon Thunder Sphere would do anything on the altar. It’s made of stone, so…? While attuned to its deity, it’s effectively immune to damage. What if we desecrated it? Skabb offers up her copious amounts of piss.

Skabb crits her mud check for healing. Is she an Expert at Nature? Yes - so she regains 4d8+10 hp, and is very pleased with herself. “She’s head to toe in mud and having a lovely time.” We sit and heal up for a bit, and Sprocket does some Risky Surgery on Hartvig, while standing on his chest. “Don’t worry. I’m a expert.” 25 is a critical success at Expert level, so that’s 4d8 plus 10! Sprocket, pleased: “When it works it works. I never wash my lucky scalpel.”

Skabb splats some more mud on Luna for 19 hp back, and she’s back to full.

Jorg’ath, immediately upon being healed, and not even back to full: “Right, let’s go kill ‘em.” Wait, wait wait. We’re missing Augustus and Grabby, should we hold off until tomorrow? Sprocket Summons Augustus back, and Skabb splats some mud on him for himself and Sprocket.

We send Augustus and Jorg’ath ahead first, learning as we have to put our tanks to good use and keep our mages and ranged fighters out of it. Look at us, doins learnins!

We plan. The tanks are going to draw the creatures out towards us and bring them in range of the ranged ones. Augustus has a great plan but he can’t tell Jorg’ath about it because he only speaks Gnomish and doesn’t like his own speaking voice. The two of them shimmy forward square by square, until the DM yells at them to “Stop right there!”

The wisps and the hands reappear. Jorg’ath and Augustus get to make Will saves. Jorg’ath: “Irrelevant, because Jorg’ath fears no one.” DM: “Wrong.” He talks to himself for a minute while we await our fate. They don’t have to roll after all, but we do all roll initiative.

Luna goes first, and clears her throat. “Right.” (Some shit is about to go down.) She hides. DM: “You’re confident that you’re hidden.” Luna: “Are you confident that I’m hidden?” 20 hits, 17 doesn’t.

(Skabb and Jorg’ath both object to the term organ grinder, which the DM used to describe Sprocket versus Augustus. DM “I acknowledge and disregard your complaints.”)

The hand recognises Jorg’ath, and goes scuttling up to him, excited. Claw attacks, one hits. Another goes for Augustus and hits. 6 slashing, and goes again but misses.

Hartvig shoots a Needle Dart right through Jorg’ath to the one in front of him, but misses.

Nadia misses with a Tanglefoot bag in her crossbow, even with a hero point, and ducks into an alcove.

Jorg’ath gets a howdydoodis, and eats one of the hands!

Sprocket thought the plan was for the tanks to draw them out this way; he forgot to account for the barbarian getting excited and forgetting the plan. Well, there were a lot of hands being eaten. (To emphasise his point, Jorg'ath uses a finger to pick the rest of the hand out of his teeth.)

Augustus does a Fist Slam, 24 hits for 5 damage. 22 misses but only just. DM: “It pops out the way on its nasty fingers.” Augustus casts Shield on himself, and that’s them done.

Skabber. What’s the range on a sling, she wants to know? She can’t find it on her sheet. 50 feet, she is told. “Well that’s bollocks innit.” Jorg’ath tells her to do a little shimmy. She shimmies up to Hartvig and elbows him in the shin. “‘Iya!” 28 hits for 6 damage, nice. She does it again, but crit fails.

A flickerwisp flickers at Jorg’ath forcing a save - 16, and he is Confused. Jorg’ath: “That’s not unusual.” It consumes his confusion and gets some hp back for itself. Another does the same to Augustus, who also fails his save.

Top of the round, Luna. She Hides and shoots again and crits the fuck out of all of it, critting her crit damage as well for MAXIMUM DAMAGE and a howdy doodis! The wisp slumps against the shrine, and Jorg’ath thinks he somehow did that. Luna gets a Hero Point for being amazing!

A hand claws at Jorg’ath and misses.

Hartvig is next, and he does some measuring before critting his Needle Darts attack! Howdy Doodis! It is pinned to the rock behind it. (Jorg’ath thinks he’s doing all this, and he’s loving it.) Hartvig gets a Hero Point as well.

Nadia has a terrible round and wastes her last Tanglefoot bag, and her last Hero Point, in spite of Guidance from Hartvig.

It’s all down to Jorg’ath. 15 is a miss. 30 hits - 15 damage with his additional acid. The light has dimmed substantially but it's still up. 10 misses, and that’s him.

Sprocket is next, and all Augustus’ attacks miss. Luna and Hartvig have used up all the crits.

Skabb is next. She bites something with her Grill and gets the howdy doodis! Excited to desecrate the altar, she clambers up onto it only to discover that she’s run out of goblin wee.

Sprocket thinks that this altar will spawn a new wisp at dawn, every day until there are four. There might be a way to shut it down, but he doesn’t know what. Some manner of occult magic is involved. Hartvig cracks his knuckles and steps up.

He thinks perhaps an idol of an opposing deity might do it, or some other symbol antithetical to Nimboloth. (Nadia asks for a Hero Point for being the only one who remembered the god’s name, and gets one! If there's one thing to be learned from Baby Skabb and her macarons, it's that if you don't ask, you don't get.) Nimboloth is an outer god. She is Chaotic Evil, and can see into this realm through the eyes of will o wisps and the like.

Skabb gets bored and wants to listen at a door - not the one that leads back to Hartvig’s torture girlfriend. She hears absolutely nothing… She opens it, to see a corridor. She goes in to see stairs in both directions. She comes back out and announces what she’s discovered, before sitting down to eat some grubs she’s found.

Hartvig has already experienced the torture of rejection so he doesn’t want to go back and see the lady. DM: “Well, you’re back up to full, so you could probably survive one or two lines of dialogue with her.”

With that we wrap up, after our weekly prayer of thanks to the DM for not killing us. “Well, I do try.”

#dnd #pathfinder #abomination vaults #abomination vaults spoilers

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taylorbuggtaylortot · 1 year ago

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I can’t even tell you how I feel because I don’t know how to say it without a pen or a page

I can’t even say what I’m thinking cause I’m always thinking of things too late

And all I know is I wanna scream out loud

But I can’t so I push it down

I gotta be alright

Yeah I gotta be okay

I can’t let them know so I push them away

Cause what does it mean if I can’t pour my heart out

I don’t want to be dramatic or misunderstood now

But if I keep it to myself

I can’t deal with all this hell

I know I’m mentally unwell

But I just can’t get help

But I stopped filling the void and I’ve been dealing with my emotions

But I still feel alone

And Wanna mix up all the potions

And I’m too broken to be ready for something like love

And I can’t be myself to the one that I really trust

I thought attention was love but love is respect

And now I have neither

Cause no one here is left

To hold a conversation or listen to the pain

And everyday I feel the same but I still fight for a change

Still Im at the end of my line

I need a shoulder sometimes

I need a friend not a guy

Some one who just doesn’t lie

I wish you would look me in the face and tell me that im safe but I gotta do that for me but right now I feel weak and afraid

Don’t choose now to hold your tongue

I trust you more than anyone

And I’ve been feeling so undone

And though you could be the one

Im sick of playing pretend

I got a whole heart to mend

And im not ready for love but yet my heart don’t listen

I look at you and I see strength to pull me through the day

Please don’t give up on me

I’m tryin to give you some faith

Narcissists will literally be a terrible person and have to deal with the consequences of their actions and still try to paint a picture of why you should feel sorry for them and nurse them back to health, and they say they’re sorry (just like they have a million times without enforcing changed behavior) just to trick you into rescuing them like you used to.

What I want to say to a narcissist:

1) if it’s mother fuck me then it’s mother fuck you

2) if you gonna do you, I’m gonna do me, and trust me honey.. I can do me very well

3) well well well, If it isn’t the consequences of your own actions

4) weird how you actually did terrible things to deserve what you’re dealing with, and I got all that and more even though I stayed doing right by you

5) stay strong like I had to. Keep your composure like I had to. Carry on like I had to. Be alone like I had to.

6) I no longer trust you so giving you any information to aid you in continuing your behavior successfully is off limits because helping you is no longer my concern or business

7) weird how now you’re having to eat the consequences of your actions and you can’t even stomach it. Literally. But when I was getting force fed that shit, it didn’t matter. I was supposed to swallow it down with a smile on my face no matter how much I was dying inside.

8)It’s my turn to not give af about you. You threw all trust and safety that I felt with you out the window, and you expect me to just look at you the same? You have no rights to me or my space. You’re a snake who lies to make themselves look like the victim even though there’s a reason why nobody wants to help you anymore. You don’t truly appreciate the people in your life, they’re props to you in order to alleviate your wants and needs, so you chew them up and spit them out but act like you love them with your whole heart and try to ruin their character behind closed doors. Real life coward shit.

9)When you get caught doing the shit you sorry for, have the same amount of remorse you had while you were doing it.

Yeah, being responsible for making a shitty decision sucks. Yes, you got caught. That must completely and utterly suck for you. You poor poor baby.

Sike…

Swallow that the same way I had to. Only sorry you dealing with repercussions, nothing more; nothing less. Be strong now baby. I’m out.

10)🤡Narcissist Alert🤡

You gonna need me and I ain’t gonna be there. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just remember: you did that.

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sergeantnarwhalwrites · 2 years ago

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Very Normal Questions

Thanks for the tag @winterandwords! It’s been a hellish few weeks I will gladly take this.

Open tag! I’m brain dead right now I believe in y’all. Tag me if you respond! I want to see your responses.

1. Do you prefer owls, capybaras, or flamingos?

I guess capybaras to be honest. They’re just cool little guys. They are cutely shaped. I don’t get the love for owls someone has got to tell me their reasoning cause I’m just like bird that conceals it’s legs.

2. What is your favorite soup?

Lol ramen. XD Okay hold on let me specify. Of course the real stuff is the best stuff. But the Japanese seafood instant ramen is great. Other than that the homemade chicken noodle soup I make when I go home.

3. What is your favorite…rock (idfk)?

I can’t think of any rocks right now. My brain keeps going cement. Hold on let me explain. Sometimes loose chunks of cement would be up and it has like the rocks mixed in. So I would try to bash it against the ground to get the rock I wanted out. It usually didn’t work lol.

4. Choose a familiar: - very dumb, very loving disobedient dog. He loves you but will never listen to you ever

- a raven that speaks but it only ever shrieks the name of various fast food restaurants

- a toad that screams like a teenage boy instead of croaks

The toad! 100% we can fucking scream together.

5. Which planet do you feel like would be kind of an asshole if you met them?

Mercury. Ever heard that people start showing their true colors/act a damn fool once it gets hot outside. Lol Mercury is literally right in front of the Sun. We got like a 50% chance Mercury ain’t waiting to snap.

6. if you were a worm would you love me?

I guess. Lol just because I’m a worm I might love dirt more. Take me home in the dirt of a neighbors house you hate just to spite them.

7. Least favorite type of clothing?

Capris like the pants. Like what the fuck commit to full pants or be shorts. Also any shirt that had sleeves that dig into my armpits, I hate the feeling.

8. You are now in a horror movie-so sorry. Chance of survival?

Very low. Just like my blood sugar would be after running for my life. I also don’t think I’d try very hard depending on the situation. Like I do not have the drive for self preservation in a case like this. Got like max an hour from me in like a zombie situation. But I’m also black XD so I’m dying pretty quick because horror movie rules.

9. Would you rather: the ability to instantly grow a perfect mustache, or ability to talk to vegetables?

Mustache. I want to see how it looks, lol I may or may not have thought about growing facial hair before.

10. What do you think of whales?

They are very amazing creatures. Still amazing to me that those damn things are mammals. I want to see one in the wild with my own eyes. Also don’t they like talk to each other? I want to hear that too.

#ask games #personal

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lilliganmusic · 3 years ago

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You liked my Top 10 Favourite Anime OSTs, so I hope you'll enjoy my Top 10 Favourite Anime OPs and following that EDs.

I'll be weighing up the sakuga, animation quality, editing and even foreshadowing in the OPs, as I'll be swayed going by song alone. As I'll be looking at foreshadowing, there may be some spoilers, so skip if you don't want any. Mother’s Basement does all the analysis on a whole bunch of these OPs, way better than I ever could, so check him out!

I made all the gifs in this post!

Honourable Mentions for OPs that didn't make the cut!

Assassination Classroom - S2 OP4

"Bye Bye Yesterday"

Cowboy Bebop - S1 OP1

“Tank”

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure - Part 2 OP2

“Bloody Stream”

Kakegerui - S1 OP1

“Deal with the Devil”

Toilet Bound Hanako-kun - S1 OP1

“No.7”

And now on with the chosen ones!

10.

Teasing Master Takagi-san - S2 OP2

“Zero Centimetres - Yuiko Ohara”

If I don’t talk about this OP no one will! It’s not the most spectacular OP ever, but it doesn’t need to be. For an OP so soft, it’s hard hitting with the foreshadowing, such as the joke box Nishikata makes and the rubber Takagi lends him. I think this OP is so sweet, and I remember I used to get butterflies during that dance scene and that scene at the end where Takagi writes on Nishikata’s back. I don’t know the singer AT ALL, but her voice is so lilting and sweet! She really captured the essence of a childhood crush in 90 seconds. I can’t wait for S3!

9. Demon Slayer - S2 OP2

“Zankyou Zanka - Aimer”

Demon Slayer is a simple shounen, and the OP fits that; there’s no grandiose foreshadowing to events that happen seasons from now, but god take a look at this stunning OP.

LOOK! AT! THE! FUCKING!! ANIMATION!!! THE MUSIC!!!! THE FORESHADOWING!!!!! This OP is CRAMMED with sakuga! My poor heart BROKE when I saw Rengoku’s hilt guard at the start. Poor Uzui’s backstory is hinted at, but they get you so hyped up for the upcoming action and BOY DID THEY DELIVER THIS SEASON! I want to kiss Aimer on the mouth for giving us such a good OP, I didn’t think LiSA could be matched.

8. Kaguya-sama: Love is War? - S2 OP2

“DADDY ! DADDY ! DO ! - Masayuki Suzuki feat. Airi Suzuki”

AHHHHHHHHHHH I DIDN’T THINK THIS WOULD BE A FAVE BUT HERE IT IS! The music! The animation! The subtle details! Mwah mwah mwah! Brilliant! They fall in love with each other more every season! Their battle for love in the first season was fierce, unapologetic in its brutality, deadly! Here, it’s blossoming into something gentler, but not losing its intensity in the slightest. Also we get to see the side characters up to their antics at well, which is never a problem.

Btw this song is a MASTERPIECE, seeing the name of the song has you singing along already, I am dying to see what they do for S3.

7. Ranking of Kings - S1 OP2

“Naked Hero - Vaundy”

I already did my analysis on this ahah! Wow, I didn’t think you could pack so much emotion and foreshadowing into an OP but boy was I wrong! You can feel the love pouring out of Hiling’s gaze, and the love that went into making this superb OP. I love Vaundy, and I was so ecstatic to see them doing the OP for one of my now favourite anime ever.

This OP will definitely have the same nostalgic effect in ten years, where you burst out singing as soon you hear it. There’s a few like that on this list too. Oh yeah, and this may be the only OP on here to make me cry upon its first viewing. I would love to give it a higher ranking — I would’ve based on Vaundy alone — it could easily sit in the Top 5 any day, but we’ll see how the season ends first :D.

6. Attack on Titan - S1 OP1

“Feuerroter Pfeil und Bogen”

YEAAAAAAAAH!!! FIRST ANIME BABY!!! And I used to skip the OP WPEOSKDMSOEN. Still, this OP is utterly ICONIC!!! We all scream “JAEGER” at the top of our lungs, there’s no denying it.

The ~cinnamontopography~ 😩. The organised ranks of soldiers in almost blinding monochrome against the chaotic titans in splotchy neon colours. The way Annie, Mikasa and Eren move is so goddamn satisfying and beautiful to look at. That’s some REAAAAAL nice sakuga, straight from Studio Wit themselves. This OP was really the best first OP for a series like AOT, they knocked it outta the park!

5. Nichijou - S1 OP1

“My Ordinary Life - Kataomoi”

If that zooming shot isn’t the coolest thing you’ve ever seen in your life shut up with your butt up. The OP is so funny and the song is such a FUCKING BOP!!! They instantly set you up for all the gags that might take place over the course of the show and let you know you’re in for the craziest “slice of life” you’ve ever seen. Get ready to dance your ass off when this comes on, I’m making sure your feet leave the floor!

4. Neon Genesis Evangelion - S1 OP1

“A Cruel Angel’s Thesis”

ICONIC!!! GODDAMN ICONIC!!!! I love everything about how this OP looks and sounds. All that religious imagery and symbolism. Whatever could it be foreshadowing :0. Seeing flashes of the monstrous Eva 001 sends a thrill up your spine, and those frames of text let you know this ain’t your average mecha. I love those long sweeping shots, this anime really killed it with its editing. I’m glad the song is so iconic— it should be with such a sexy name. If you’re not singing along when you hear the lyrics, I’m gonna cause the third impact on your ass.

3. Beastars - S1 OP1

“Wild Side - Ali”

The minute I saw stop motion I was hooked, there was no doubt this was going down as one of my favourite openings. I love the chase at the start, the foreshadowing of the fountain, the confusion between lust and hunger in Legoshi's mind, THAT BEAUTIFUL DANCE SCENE? I got butterflies for like the first 30 times I watched it over and over. The song is an absolute bop as well, I hope ALI keep making music for a long time to come.

2. Mob Psycho 100 - S2 OP2

“99.9 - Mob Choir”

I nearly orgasmed every time I heard that damn bass riff at the start. Down bad for that bass. This OP is so creative visually, like it’s jaw dropping in the execution of all these different styles and mediums. That 3D spinning Lego animation at the start is fucking AWESOME! My favourite shot would be where all the layers that make up Mob separate and then hit him all at once, that shit gave me goosebumps. S2 went to new heights and the second OP definitely outdoes the first.

1. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - S1 OP1

“Again - Yui”

Anime fans are weeping knowing that something belonging to FMAB is in first place. It’s a good OP!!! It slapped me in the face with it’s foreshadowing and I failed to notice, smiling demurely like a fool!

It is a perfect OP, you hear this shit and you’re already singing. It’s such a beautiful OP as well, with plenty of sakuga, emotional beats and hype moments. Of course, every time you hear Yui start singing you just know things are gonna be good. Starting with the transmutation circle that started all this shit, and ending with Ed throwing his arm in the face (eye?) of GOD??! Wow, I implore you to check out Mother’s Basement for more in-depth analysis of this masterpiece of an OP.

(Please don’t ask me why this GIF is like this, I have no idea)

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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The Warden (Adrenaline Junkie Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Major angst, The Warden, swearing, fighting, very graphic description of injury/gore (I put astericks around the graphic parts so you can skip it if you’re uncomfortable), death, grief

Word count: 2,201

(A/N): I took a few creative liberties with The Warden since we don’t know much about it.

The thing towered above you at at least twice your height, if not more. It’s mouth was shaped in a permanent gaping frown with grotesque pointed teeth curled in different directions. You heard a soft dripping from the bioluminescent drool seeping endlessly from its mouth and dripping onto the cold stone floor. Good god that thing could swallow you whole and still have more room for two other people. It had similar tentacle-like structures to the blocks on the ground protruding out of it’s head. It had no eyes that you could see, so you figured that it used a type of echolocation or vibration system to navigate. You willed yourself to be brave enough to look at the rest of it.

It’s chest had a huge hole in the middle, showing off what looked like something writhing around bound by its cracked, off-colored ribcage. The trapped beings glowed and flickered rhythmically. You couldn’t make out any defining features to identify them, but you thought you saw hollow eyes peering at you between the battered bones like an innocent prisoner’s dead, hopeless eyes staring at passersby from their damp prison cell after getting the death sentence. Almost begging for you to run. The creature’s clawed fingers dragged against the stony floor as it lazaly swung its arms back and forth. It looked like it could absolutely decimate you with a single flick of it’s finger.

You were paralyzed in fear as it lumbered closer and closer to you. Holding your breath and grasping your sword so hard that your grip was shaking and your knuckles turned white, you watched with wide eyes as the creature paused right in front of you, it’s stalks twitching slightly on its head. The surrounding tentacles on the ground glowed and twitched in response. Did it somehow communicate with the blocks?

It continued to shamble past you as you watched its every move. It didn’t notice you! Feeling a massive wave of relief, you quietly sighed out the breath you were holding in and let your body relax. You waited until it trudged a little further down the cave before backing away slowly, being extremely mindful of your surroundings. You didn’t know if it tried buffalo wings before, but you weren’t planning on sticking around to find out.

You shivered as you felt something tickle the ends of the feathers on one of your wings. Without warning, the entire cavern lit up as the blocks thrashed about. Paling, you realized that your wings must’ve brushed one of them.

You heard the booming stomps of the creature stop before it started moving back in your direction faster than before. A harsh cacophony of several different voices screaming got louder and louder. You could never out run it, so your only chance was to out speed it by flying. Luckily the cave was wide and tall enough for you to fully spread your wings and fly high. You frantically flapped and propelled yourself through the cavern in the direction you came in. It started to sprint faster. It was gaining on you, and faster than you thought it could move with its large stature. You flapped your wings faster than you’ve ever flapped before as you heard it coming closer.

You felt something claw your calf, causing you to whip your head around. Your eyes met with the creature’s outstretched arm blindly grabbing at the air around you with blood- your blood- dripping off from it’s claw. Yelping, you tucked your legs into your body and prayed that you could fly faster. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-

Your body was jerked back as you felt its giant hand crush the bones in your wing. It started to swing your body about like you were nothing but a ragdoll in the grasp of an over hyper child. Your body bounced off from the stone walls surrounding you. You felt your ribcage shatter and heard ringing in your ears as you hit the walls repeatedly. It’s shrieks mixed with yours as your entire body erupted in pain.

Abruptly mid swing, you felt the muscles in the base of your wing tear away from your back with a sickening rip. Screeching in pain, you were flung through the air before your back roughly collided with one of the stone walls. Your body was pulled down by gravity until you landed on a hard surface.

Clenching your eyes shut with tears streaming down your face, you heard the horrific screaming and rumbling footsteps get closer to you. You prepared yourself for your painful death.

Only, it didn’t come. You heard scratching coming from… from below you? How the hell-

You opened one of your eyes and looked around. You landed on a ledge several meters above the cave floor. Holy shit, lived! There was no way it could reach you now.

You took a few moments to catch your breath as you slowly moved to prop yourself up against the wall. Pain erupted from your right shoulder and wing as you tried to move yourself. Gritting your teeth, you shifted to use your left arm to push yourself up. Once you slumped against the wall, you closed your eyes. That thing almost killed you.

***************WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES***************

With every painful shallow breath, you felt a grinding sensation in the entirety of your ribcage. You definitely broke most of them. You felt something warm trickle down your face and back. Reaching up with your left hand, you wiped at the substance and looked at it. It was your blood, and a lot of it. Groaning in pain, you sat up slightly and reached around to feel the wing it grabbed. Your hand grasped at nothing. Furrowing your brows and ignoring the pain, you twisted your upper body to try to find your wing. Finally, you grabbed something.

That something certainly wasn’t feathers.

What you grabbed was sharp, cutting your palm. Hissing, you grasped the shaft of… whatever it was and moved it down. Your hand finally met feathers, but it also met with an open wound. You felt stinging as your fingers poked into your open back. Pulling it back, your hand was slick with your own blood. Painfully craning your head around to inspect it, your gaze wasn’t met with anything except for something white and jagged jutting out from where your wing was supposed to be.

You let out a choked sob as you came to the sinking realization that that damned thing ripped your wing completely off your body. It fucking ripped it off.

*******************GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OVER*****************************

You could still hear its raged screams and the sound of its claws scoring the stone wall below you. You tried to stand, but you couldn’t move your legs. You probably either dislocated or broke both of them.

You used your good arm to drag yourself over to the ledge of the platform. Peering over, you saw it trying and failing to climb up the wall. Your blood dripped from your forehead and onto it, causing it to stop and open its mouth to collect it. You cringe in disgust as it greedily drinks your blood and tears. Looking somewhere else, you saw feathers littering the floor and the occasional blood splatter. Your blood coated the walls where you were flung, decorating them like a fucked up version of a cave painting.

The monster closed its mouth and turned around with a new sense of purpose. Your eyes followed it as it shambled across the cave and stopped to pick up something laying on the floor. You felt nauseous as you saw that it was your wing. It disappeared into the cave, dragging your wing behind it.

Feeling bile rise up in your throat, you gagged as you puked up a grotesque mixture of your breakfast and blood over the ledge. The blood wasn’t good. After it was finally over, you laid limp and sobbed. Why did this have to happen to you? You didn’t do anything wrong to deserve this, did you? You were probably going to die here. Alone, injured, and afraid. You didn’t want to die anymore. You didn’t like the feeling of adrenaline rushing through you anymore, it was the only thing keeping you conscious. You wanted to pass out. You were in so much pain.

Your ribs grinded painfully as your chest heaved, but you couldn’t control your sobbing. It was a never ending cycle of sobbing because of the pain and pain coming from your chest shuddering. You wanted to make it stop, but you couldn’t. You felt a pulsing feeling in your back as you were bleeding out onto the stone, the blood slowly framing your broken form. Finally, you felt lightheaded as your vision started to spot. You thanked whatever god was above as you passed out.

Above the cave, the sun was setting and your family was worried. You were usually very punctual about being home on time, especially after a skeleton nearly killed you. Philza was tensely cooking dinner while his sons were sitting at the dinner table thinking about where you could be. Mobs were already spawning outside, so Techno thought you probably decided to spend the night in the cave so you wouldn’t have to run into any mobs. Wilbur thought that you were on your way home. Tommy thought you were dead, but his brothers reassured him that since they didn’t receive any chat notification on their arms, you were still alive.

Meanwhile, Philza was worried sick. His mind contemplated countless possibilities of where you could be right now. You could be dying in a hole somewhere because you didn’t look where you were putting your feet. You could be bleeding out because a zombie attacked you while you were on your way home. You could be burning in lava right now. You could be poisoned by a cave spider. You could be fighting an entire fleet of pillagers you could’ve run into on your way home. There were a countless amount of possibilities racing through his mind.

Before he knew it, dinner was done and you still weren’t home. Dinner was laid out on the table in front of everyone and you still weren’t home. Dinner went by slowly without you here to carry the conversation. They finished their dinner and you still weren’t home. Your plate was still in your place and your food was freezing cold by now.

The boys congregated in the living room where they would wait for you to come home. They expected you to come bursting through the front door any second now sheepishly grinning at them saying you lost track of time. But that didn’t happen.

As the night moved on, Philza started restlessly pacing, Techno’s eyes were lazaly scanning the words across the pages in his book without him processing the words, Wilbur sat fiddling with the ends of his sweater, and Tommy sat wordlessly staring at nothing on the wall.

“Where are they? I told them to come home before the sunsets. They’re always home on time.” Philza broke off into mumbles, constantly running his hands through his blond hair. His wings started to puff up in fear.

Techno broke Philza’s rapid mumbling. “Dad, they’re probably camping out in the cave. They’re smart enough not to try to come home when there’s mobs out.”

“...I hope so, Techno,” Phil sighed out. “I hope so.”

Hours passed by with nothing coming from your end. Philza ushered his sons to their rooms for the night with some difficulty about an hour ago. Now, he sat on the couch with his head in his hands, rubbing his sleep deprived, bloodshot eyes. By now, the sun was almost up.

Feeling a familiar tingle on his forearm, he shot his head up and stared at the message he had nightmares about receiving since he adopted you and your siblings:

(Y/n) succumbed to their injuries whilst evading Warden.

Letting out a sob, he fell to his knees and let the tears stream freely down his cheeks. His precious child just lost one of their lives. When he heard thudding footsteps rushing down the stairs, he knew his sons also saw the message. He felt three pairs of arms wrap around him, causing him to immediately comfort his sons. Their sibling just died for the first time, after all. He pulled back to wrap his wings around his sons in a tight embrace.

Techno buried his head in his father’s shoulder as tears silently flowed down his cheeks. The voices were screaming at him for letting you die. Wilbur hugged both of his brothers and father as he softly sobbed with them. While he still felt grief, his first instinct was to give his family comfort. Tommy’s harsh sobs racked his body as he squeezed Philza’s midsection in desperation. He can’t believe that he’s closer to losing his older sibling permanently. He felt closest to them out of all his siblings.

Until (y/n) respawned in their bed in a couple of hours, the family sat on the floor in the living room to grieve their child and sibling together.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @goldenstarofthunderclan

#sbi x reader #angst #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic #sibling reader #major death #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: injury #tw: death #tw: grief #tw: the warden #tw: vomit

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onewingedluci · 2 years ago

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my chemical morb-mance

honestly i’d just like to make a rundown of how CURSED the mcr glasgow show was because i constantly think about it

1. i set my alarm for like half 2 to get up and get ready, i woke up an hour before the bus and i live 45 ish minutes away from the bus depot so had to half get ready and do the rest of my makeup in my mums car

2. the bus heating wasn’t working so i was freezing my tits off by the time i got to glasgow

3. four corners mcdonald’s was shut for renovations

4. when i got to the venue, i met @crvptidcore and honestly from there on out it’s a weird day, we got numbers and red made sure they got 69, i think i was 66

5. the nearest bathroom to the hydro venue is the secc, and i think there was some kind of conference going on so anytime you went to the toilet there was people in suits and shit staring at the big emo crowd

6. the amount of deliveries people got, i was constantly debating getting some buckfast delivered for the banter

7. someone had a binley mega chippy sign

8. we kept referencing morbius ( if you go on the MCRGLASGOW tag on twitter you’ll see the tweets) and ended up making a morbin’ time sign to hold up during the gig

9. we ended up using posca pen to write stuff on our hands and knuckles, and then painted our nails with it, red had ween on one hand and i think i had shit cunt because why not

10. i can’t remember his name but there was a guy from rocksound there who came up and interviewed us and i’m pretty sure i said the music ‘really speaks to me emotionally’ because i had been in the sun for hours and my brain was starting to melt

11. the line for the merch was long at, and red got a whole like pile of merch, i got two shirts even tho i was like broke ahahaha

12. we ended up getting minecraft trading cards and minion stickers which i still have on my power bank

13. i learned about unholyverse in the queue from red and honestly i don’t know if i’m thankful or not because they made me cry at like 2am reading them

14. one of the door guys actually looked terrified as we were starting to pile in the doors

15. someone in the queue was double barrelling elf bars which i would have done but i was like rationing mine

16. i ended up on frank and mikey’s side of the stage and it was just full of crackhead energy, i’m pretty sure i had a full blown conversation with someone about roller derby but everything that happened that day feels like a fever dream

17. during the gig, frank fell on his arse which was great

18. gerard said ‘do you want to hear my emo batman’ and then proceeded to say ‘joker it’s time to drink my piss’ and i think half of the crowd were dying laughing and the other half were like ???

19. someone threw their shirt at gerard and he started screaming fuck yeah you’re the man now

20. the iconic ‘LOOK AT THIS’ rat clip

21. obv motor oil gerard in general was wild, plus he kept mentioning he was 👹 STICKY 👹

22. i think someone near me just started screaming as soon as they saw mikey and honestly same

23. ray just looked majestic, his hair was everywhere and he looked just happy to be there

24. frank wrung his sweat after the show into a cup and i’m pretty sure i saw people arguing over the clip on twitter thinking it was green tea

25. i got COVID from the show lol it was covid central , thankfully i was okay but i did feel rough lol

all in all, it was the best show i’ve ever been to and i want to commentate the day with a morbin time tattoo

#mcr #mcr glasgow #my chemical romance #scottish #frank iero #gerard way #mikey way #ray toro

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sapiowoman28 · 3 years ago

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OT23 mtl likely to be freaky in bed

Most

1. Jungwoo - you can't look at him and tell me he won't be full of surprises. Will prob do anything. Think freaky stuff like sucking your toes or wearing your undies or tying you up sort of thing. And he'd do it without freaking you out, easing you into new experiences every time.

2. Yuta - this self professed pervert comes in 2nd. I'm sure there's nothing he won't do either. I just don't think he'd be as freaky as Jungwoo though. Like, he'll spit in your mouth, drip wax on your body and his but he won't suck your toes.

3. Sungchan - this guy 100% would be the one barking like a puppy in bed if you asked him to. Yeah, he's prob into pet play.

4. Shotaro - If you're not sure why he's here go watch his old tiktoks (they can be found on yt) And the dude is Japanese (have you watched Japanese porn?)

5. Jeno - Jeno is ex Catholic. Enough said.

6. Johnny - I feel he's very open minded. He'd be the sort of bf who will discuss and try things out with his gf He won't be too extreme like Yuta or Jungwoo though. Prob just role playing and dirty talk, some daddy kink / soft dom.

7. Taeil - There's something about Taeil that makes me think beneath his very ordinary exterior is a freak. It could also be my imagination, but this is my list.

8. Winwin - seriously, it's the quiet ones which are the biggest freaks. This guy can contort, remember? I bet he can pull off a lot of things.

9. Kun - He just hides his freaky side very well. Prob has a daddy kink, is a soft dom and all that. Prob likes to spank.

10. Renjun - I once saw Renjun pulling Jeno's hair while dirty dancing to Havana and wanted to scream for Taeyong to take his babies home cos they were only 18 then....

11. Yang Yang - YangYang has a dirty mind, 100%. But not in the Ten sort of way? Ten is all talk. Yang Yang talks but has a thirst for adventure? He's curious and raring to go. So.

12. Chenle - I bet $100 being a daddy isn't his only kink. But i'm ranking him lower cos of his age. He does - more than anyone else - have $$ for sex toys and lingerie though... hmm....

13. Ten - yeah, Ten is king of innuendoes and dirty jokes and smirks. but I really think he's not that kinky. He's experienced. But a pretty normal power bottom.

14/15. Doyoung / Jaemin - DY and Jaemin are the sort of bf who will go onto the internet to search "top 10 positions most pleasurable for women" just so his gf will have the best time in bed. Too gf-centric to be freaky - the last thing they want to do is scare their beloved.

16. Xiaojun - The only freaky thing he'd be doing is letting bella be in the same room. Would prob let you video him / take videos of you.

17. Hendery - Hendery has the potential to be freaky but he prob doesn't have the confidence like the way some of the others do to push boundaries in bed. So he ends up pretty vanilla. Maybe further into the relationship when he's less nervous he'd try. Seems like the sort who would like the idea of a threesome.

18. Lucas - you can be horny but it doesn't mean you're kinky. He just seems like the conventional superfit bf. He is after all the most normal member of WayV.

19. Taeyong - Look, all cancer boy Taeyong wants to do is make love and cuddle after, and have you stroke his hair. Don't complicate things for him, ok? he has 22 children to look after.

20. Mark - Mark just screams straight laced to me. Like, how kinky can you get if you have a bible on your night stand?

21. Jisung - not cos it's not in him to be freaky, but cos he's still new to the whole idea of sex. I'm sure he hasn't even made out. We'll come back in 10 years to see if he's still doing the handcuff thing. (prob would be)

22. Jaehyun - I imagine Jaehyun doesn't even try. Sex with him isn't gratifying. He only has posted 18 times on his instagram. Pretty much doesn't do shit. hahahaha (im joking don't come for me Jaehyun stans!)

23. Haechan - you'll be lucky if you can get him off his game to have sex. Sex with him would be in a rush. he needs to get back to his game.

Least

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #wayv smut #nct mtl #nct dream mtl #nct127 mtl #wayv mtl #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years ago

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Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 11]

Words: 10.8k+

Summary: Y/N and Michael finally decide to talk about what happened.

Warnings: Female!Reader. 18+. Smut, unprotected sex [pls use a condom]. Cheating! Overthinking. A very slight mention of blood.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

“Oh, shut up!” You laugh out loud.

Finn laughs from beside you, laying on his back over Polly’s carpet as you lay on her couch on your stomach, looking down at the youngest Shelby brother.

“I would never do such thing.” You defend yourself, “Is that what you really think of me, Finn?”

Finn laughs with you as he stares up at you, hands resting on his chest, as he continues to assume how possible it is for you scare any girl that he’s interested in, away.

“Oh, please.” He says with a playful look on his face, “You would probably make her so many questions about her life choices that she would just run off.”

“Well, sorry if I continuously look out for you.”

The front door of Polly’s home swings open and almost makes you and Finn sit up by how high you two jumped from how it startled you.

You had been so focused on the conversation that you didn’t even hear the motor of a car outside. And now you two are acting as if you were caught talking about something you shouldn’t have been.

Polly walks inside the house, dark cigarette over her lips, and soon walks in Michael, following her every step.

“But why would he transfer the money if he didn’t need it?” He asks his mother, frown over his face as he closes the door behind him.

Polly shrugs at his words and takes off her furry jacket, leaving it by the hanger before taking the cigarette from her lips and exhaling a large cloud of smoke out of her lungs.

Her eyes move off her son, who has most of his back turned to you and Finn, and Polly finds you, almost falling off the couch from the strange position.

“Why are you on the ground?” She asks Finn, gaining a smile from the two of you.

“It’s comfortable.” He answers.

Michael looks over his shoulder and his eyes meet yours right away. Finn’s answer is able to manipulate a slight grin on his face, which hovers over his lips. There is no vocal answer on his part, just silence and a look of amusement.

It’s been almost a week since your nightmare, a total of 5 days to be exact. And Michael has been in Polly’s house for most of those days, mainly surrounded by work and nothing else.

You’ve questioned Polly about it after he left for the hotel and all you got as an answer was that he was trying to prove to Tommy that he can be forgiven. Quite odd, but who are you to question that?

At least 3 of the nights of those 5 days, Michael slept over at Polly’s. For a reason you do not know why, but it surely has to with Gina. You didn’t ask Polly about it, assuming she wouldn’t know, but honestly because it sounded wrong just to imagine yourself questioning such a thing.

Like said before, he had been working for most of his time over at the house, hidden in Polly’s office or seated at the dinner table, surrounded by papers while holding a cigarette between his fingers or lips as a way to lift off his stress.

You two didn’t talk much, but most of your conversations were in the mornings. Like the one after the night of the nightmare. They would end when his mind was somewhere lost in the papers and you two fell into the natural silence between sentences. You never disturbed him to keep the exchange of words alive, therefore, the talking of the day was done.

Michael and Polly continue their conversation soon after taking their eyes off Finn and you and, slowly, start making their way to the kitchen, where most silence of the house resides.

Their voices are low, but you can tell that they’re talking about work - something you’ve been forcefully pulled away for these past few days.

You look back at Finn once they’re out of your field of view and he’s staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“Who’s occupying your mind, uh?” You tease him, poking his chest.

He snaps back to reality and looks over at you, playful smile on his lips as he adjusts his head on the tall pillow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He says back.

Your eyes widen at his words and a shocked expression twitches your features.

“So, there is someone in your mind?” You ask in a squeak, not controlling your vocal cords in a such exciting moment, “Finn Shelby, I cannot believe you.”

He stays silent, his smile just grows at your shocked and squeaky words.

“What’s her name?!” You ask in almost a scream, overly excited.

“I’m not telling you that,” He says, lifting and turning his head to the side on the pillow, “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, Finn, come on!” You drag out your words for dramatization, “Can you just tell me if you two are dating or not?”

He thinks for a second and you just stare at him as he does it.

Seconds later, he’s still silent, slowly getting on your nerves over playing with your excited emotions like that.

“I swear I won’t look into it, just please answer my question.” You plead.

Finn sighs, slowly giving up.

“Okay…” He breathes out, “I am not telling you her name. But…” You hold yourself up with your elbow in excitement, “We are dating.”

A loud gasp escapes your mouth, and you hold in another shriek of excitement over his words.

His smile is just enough for you to believe that he likes the girl too much to sell any more information about her to you, but you honestly couldn’t feel any happier.

“For how long?” You ask, holding yourself up to sit up, unable to contain your emotions.

“I’ve known her for a bit. Been dating for like… 2 weeks?”

Your jaw almost hits the floor, but before you could even ask why he didn’t tell you before, you got yourself the answer. You would’ve gone all inspector mode to try and find any girl in Birmingham that is overly happy about a certain event.

Nothing he wouldn’t do for you too. Plus… You were in a hospital not that long ago-

“Wow.” You sigh, falling back to lay on the couch, “You were seeing someone while I was dying?”

A loud laugh escapes Finn’s mouth and bite in your smile to continue your acting.

“No! God, I was seeing her before you got shot.” He tells you, “Good to know that’s what shocked you the most about my whole confession.”

“I have to have my priorities.”

He continues to smile up at you, finding your words so amusing that he’s finding it hard to hold his chuckles every time you open your mouth to speak.

“Does Polly know?” You ask him.

“No-”

Before he could have finished saying the simple word you’re already out of the couch and running to the kitchen.

Sure, it hurt a little to do that movement so quickly, but you’ve got a great mission up ahead… Tell Polly the big news: Finn has finally stopped having sex with everyone that has a pair of legs.

Finn laughs at your excitement yet doesn’t stop you. Polly will know now or later anyway.

Either you tell her now or someone will, in the future. Or worse, her second sight might let her know of the news when they’re in an argument.

A wave of chills runs through Finn’s spine at the thought, and he shivers absurdly as a reaction.

Thank god he told you first.

You run in the kitchen and Michael continues his conversation, not finding any problem with you hearing anything he’s saying.

You wait beside them for the conversation to end, hands behind your back, swaying back and forth on the heels of your feet like a child waiting for her parents’ permission to go play outside.

Michael finishes and Polly gives him a quick answer. You don’t care enough to hear them. You just want to dump out the news at the center of the table.

“Do you have that on paper?” She asks Michael and he nods, “Go get it.”

Michael nods again and leaves the room, leaving you to stare back at Polly with a huge smile.

“What do you want?” She asks.

She looks down at the ashtray as she dips the tip of her cigarette down, yet you see her hiding a playful smile, probably finding yours contagious.

“Finn just told me that…” You pause to add some suspense, “… he has a girlfriend!”

Polly, right on that second, looks up at you with widen eyes.

She stares at you, analyzing every small bit of your face, trying to see if you’re joking in anyway, but she finds nothing.

“He has a fucking what?” She whispers in shock.

(…)

It has been a few hours. All of you had lunch together, which was filled with a whole bunch of teasing Finn while he tried to hide behind his hands and act like he only wants to stare down at his food.

And, of course, while that happened, you tried not to choke in your water or water while laughing so hard.

Now, Finn is sitting beside Polly on the couch as she tries to squeeze out of him as much information as possible. Michael is standing by the couches, packing his stuff up to leave.

You make your way down the stairs, just returning from the bathroom, and Michael looks over his shoulder at you.

“Are you leaving already?” You ask him, curious.

“Yeah. Need to go take care of something.” He says, being careful with his words. Polly has been too careful with pulling you away from work, Michael doesn’t want to be the one to break that lack of information.

He looks back to what is in front of him, and you notice three boxes of what you believe is paperwork related to the family’s business.

Polly and Finn are still siting, deep into their whispers, probably hiding any kind of potentially important information about his girlfriend from you.

Before you can even tease them for their antics, Michael says something.

“Could you help me carry this one?” He asks.

You nod right away. It’s one of the smaller boxes, the emptiest too. It won’t even make you blink an eye with any possible discomfort.

He piles the two bigger, and fuller, boxes and grabs them, their height only reaching up to his chest. You grab the smaller one, holding it on your hip. You help Michael with the door and leave it slightly open before following him to his car.

The silence between you is not by any means uncomfortable. It’s quite comforting, actually.

Michael opens the backseat door open with some difficulty and turns back for you to give him the other box. You do it and as you’re about to turn and leave, he says something.

“Wait.” He says, making you look at him, “I have something for you.”

“For me?” You ask confused.

He doesn’t answer. He closes the door and walks over to the front seats, opening the passenger seat door, hiding whatever is in front of him with his body.

Michael turns and you have to bite your tongue to not say anything.

It’s a small bouquet of flowers, most of them being wildflowers, your favorite. The exact same ones that have quite a history when it comes to the two of you.

You and Michael didn’t argue in your relationship, but when it did happen, and when he would be the main reason behind those same fights, he would give you flowers.

It was a rare occasion for you to receive them, but this type of bouquet is Michael’s apologetic bouquet. Always has been. It has all your favorite flowers arranged just like you loved, always in the same way to show off their vibrant colors.

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask and a small grin forms on his lips.

You remember them.

“The same thing as I’ve been apologizing for the past few weeks.”

You extend your hand and take the bouquet from his hand, ignoring how your hand rested right above his for some good few splits of a second.

You bring the flowers close to you, hiding any kind of positive expression, as you admire them silently.

“There’s a note inside. But you can read it later.” He lets you know.

“I will.” You say, looking back up at him, but this time, with a small grin.

He nods, small smile prominent on his lips as he does it. He looks relieved, probably because you accepted his flowers in the first place, but, also, nervous, almost like those same flowers are a ticking bomb of some sort.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You decide to say, breaking the intense stare down.

“Yeah,” He exhales, “I’ll see you later.”

To escape any possibility of another stare down, you turn on your heels and start walking towards the house. As you stand up the porch, you steal a glance over your shoulder, already finding Michael looking straight at you.

You offer him a small smile, different from the grin, and finally step into Polly’s home.

The sound of Polly’s and Finn’s voices fill your ears, and you close the door behind you, trying not to look back at Michael, who is still standing by his car.

The front door closes, slowly, and Polly lifts her gaze to meet yours, finding the slow motion and lack of slamming of her door so unlike you. You step aside into view and a gasp escapes her lips.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” She says out loud.

“I’m afraid not.” You answer, eyebrows lifted, trying to show that you’re as shocked as she is.

She stands from beside Finn, who is as shocked, and walks towards you. She takes the flowers from your hands and analyzes them.

“Let me guess.” She says with a playful tone, “Another apology?”

You chuckle at her and she smiles brightly at you.

“You’re correct.” You announce, stealing a look at Finn, who looks amused, “Might have to write this one down as the official thousandth one.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping count.” Polly jokes with you making you smile.

She walks back to the kitchen to get a vase and you follow right behind her. Finn stands from the couch and does the same as you.

Polly sets them over the kitchen counter gently and looks around for the perfect vase, one you can later take to your own home, when you’re healed.

Finn walks up to the flowers and analyzes them silently, just like Polly. He brings up his hand and carefully pulls something out, a small envelope.

“I’m sure this is for you.” He says, handing the envelope to you.

You take it into your hands and hold it carefully close to you.

Polly starts filling the vase with water and looks back at you, staring down at the small paper, just the size of your hand.

“Well, open it!”

You smile at her tone and you do as told. Finn looks at you questioningly as you undo the top and Polly stops the water from running.

You take the small note from inside the envelope and put down it down. You unfold it, careful with making it face you and you only, and as the word meets your eyes, Polly swears she sees them brighten.

Meet me behind the barns tomorrow at 3. – M

(…)

With both Polly and Finn at work, possibly at a meeting, you’re left to stay home alone until 3. You’ve taken your time to get ready. You’ve done your make-up, nothing too intense, just your normal light look, and have gotten dressed.

A floral green dress hugs your body, nothing unlike your usual style. Not a suit, but something you would wear when out with Polly at your day’s off. And on top of that, a long dark coat, which covers your body from any cold wind.

What even is going to happen today?

You step out of Polly’s home, keys in hand and coat closed enough to protect you from the harsh wind meeting you as soon as you make your presence to the outside world.

You climb in your car. Poor thing as been sitting there by the front of the house for days now, quite sad.

As you make your way to the familiar location, Michael is standing by his car.

He didn’t expect the day to be so cold and windy, but like any other place close to Small Heath, the weather is just unpredictable.

He shakes his cigarette, letting the white and bright red ashes fly with the wind as they burn at the tip of the poisonous, yet addicting and calming, stick. His eyes are stuck on the gravel under his feet, heart ponding against his chest and with his hands shaking.

It’s like taking you on your first date all over again.

He’s just a nervous and anxious wreck.

The sound of a car door closing in the distance makes him snap back from his thoughts and look over his shoulder. You’re right there, just a few meters away from him. Your jacket is open, falling by your sides, as its material and your thin dress move with the, now, calmer wind.

“Sorry for being a little late.” You apologize and he shakes his head.

“No worries.”

He leans away from his car and walks to stand beside you. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, shielding them from the cold, and with that he takes your outfit in, finding the flowers in the fabric somewhat familiar to his gaze.

“Should we start walking?” You break his trance.

“Uh- Yeah, yeah.” He nods.

The abandoned barn stands tall beside the two of you as you walk by it. This is just outside of Small Heath. A small barn where Tommy used to have some of his horses, ones that weren’t exactly for racing. Maybe family horses… Can you even call them that?

Right behind the old structure, is a vast field. One, that for you to meet its true beauty, you have to walk for some good few minutes or well… get yourself a horse and ride for not even 3 minutes.

The green fields meet your eyes and for a second, you feel like you’ve lost your ability to breathe. The air is clearer where you stand then from whatever corner you stand in the whole Birmingham, but god, it’s breathtaking.

No sight of pollution, of smoke or even of people. Just peaceful green, tall wild grass, trees scattered through each curve of the irregular grounds.

It’s as calm as nature can be.

You walk beside Michael, both of you admiring the familiar grounds you step on, yet not opening your mouths to break such a comforting silence.

The sounds surrounding you are nothing but the patter of your feet on top of the grass, which is so tall it comes close to your upper thighs, the wind hitting the tall leaves and making them hit your legs, the branches of the trees moving and making the leaves collide with one another, and simply the wind over your ears.

Everything so silent it even makes your ears seem to vibrate.

“God, Michael, you are unbelievable.” You tell the man behind you without even looking over your shoulder.

“You were the one that had the idea!”

“And you went with it!” You say in a louder tone at him, “You’re supposed to be the one with the brains in this relationship, not me.”

The man chuckles from behind you, each of you riding your own horses as the sun shines on the two of you, marking and showing nothing but its natural beauty of the season.

“We can still go back.” He says, reigns resting by his legs, letting the horse move on its own.

“And say what?” You ask with a smile, “Yeah, sorry, Polly. The party was the most boring idea ever, and we had to walk out?”

“Something like that.”

You exhale out a chuckle and shake your head.

“Why did she even let the neighbor plan out the party?” You ask him.

You look over your shoulder to stare at your boyfriend and he’s already looking at you.

“She said something about wanting to give the woman a chance.” He shrugs, “Did you expect any less from her? She has been apologizing to my mom for the past year, this party was the least she could’ve done.”

“A cake would’ve done it.”

Michael smiles in amusement at you and you continue to look at him.

“You really think you can buy your way to my mom’s heart with a cake?”

“I did.” You say and he rolls his eyes. “And it worked.”

“It worked because you were already part of the family. And hitting my mom’s side of the car is not the same as what you did.” He says defensively.

“I think what I did was quite horrid, if you ask me.”

“I thought it was funny.” He smiles.

“Yeah, well, that’s because you like seeing your crazy family in distress and me in trouble.” You defend yourself, checking the field in front of you to see if you’re close to your destination, “Seriously, Michael, you worry me sometimes.”

A loud cackle of disbelief escapes Michael’s lips and you grin at the sound.

“You broke a vase of flowers on my cousin’s head! You didn’t destroy a whole side of a car!” He tells you and you turn back to him.

“Yeah! I know! But it still made me almost pee myself in fear when it happened.” You confess, finding it almost impossible not to laugh, “I could’ve had nightmares with what could’ve been my consequence.”

“God, you’re dramatic.”

You smile and stop the horse, finally standing by the usual area.

“No, I’m just realistic.” You tell him, “Finn could’ve gotten hurt, and if he did… I could’ve been dead by now.”

“Wow!” Michael chuckles. “You’re just… out of this world.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say, finding his words, out of context, funny. “But still… I feel bad for leaving.”

“Don’t.” He says as you jump down off your horse, “My mom won’t care, and Finn left like 2 hours ago. Nobody cared.”

“Still… It’s your birthday Michael.” You tell him, “You should be celebrating it.”

Michael jumps out of his horse and brings the reigns to the front, walking over to you with the horse just a meter behind him.

As he lets go of the reigns, like any other time here, he stands tall in front of you, not caring that the horse is moving away to go eat the perfect patch of green grass not too far away. You look up at him and wait for him to say something.

“And I am.” He says, “I prefer to stay here with you, then eat whatever was on that table.”

He presses a kiss over your lips, and you gasp.

“That is mean, Michael!” You say defensively, “That woman worked very hard…! And all night!”

He thinks of what to say next for a bit.

“And you still gave the idea to leave.”

Your mouth opens in disbelief at his words.

“You’re heartless, Y/N.” He says, amusement thick on his tone, lips twitching to smile again.

You scowl and smack his chest, hard.

“You little bitch.” You curse him out, making him laugh and take a step back from you.

The silence stays thick between the two of you, yet as soon as the wind lifts off ever so slightly, Michael finds himself being curious. He steals a look your away and notices you’re walking while staring down at the grass.

“You’re quiet.” Michael comments out loud, snapping you back to reality.

You blink your thoughts away and quickly lift your head ever so slightly, not enough to stare at him but enough to see how much you still have to walk.

“So are you.” You whisper back at him, soft grin on your lips, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

You look over at him, ignoring your overthinking mind that hesitates so much to do it, and to your surprise, he’s already looking at you.

“About…” You sigh stretching out the word in your lips, shifting your gaze forward once more, finding his eyes intrusive for some reason, “Old times?” You answer as a question, unsure. “The past few days have made me kind of stuck in memories, I guess.”

He nods, even though you’re not looking at him anymore, and also brings his gaze away from you to stare at the greenery at his front.

“That makes two of us.” He confesses.

“Really?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah” He nods, again.

You nod, pursing your lips while saying to yourself mentally ‘who would’ve thought you’re not the only crazy one’, and, in a quick decision, you decide to blur out whatever is on your mind.

“Mine were actually about, uhm…” You hesitate, catching yourself and your urges midsentence, and Michael notices, bringing his gaze back to you, “That one time we both came here-” You sigh when lost for words and you shake your head slightly with a scowl.

Your discomfort over your own troubling thoughts doesn’t go unnoticed by Michael, and he decides to ease up some of it with his words.

“One time? Out of the thousand times we came here?”

You look back at him and feel yourself relax at his playful tone.

“Yeah. It was a quite special day, actually.” You add.

A full-on smile appears on the man’s face, pearly white teeth out to show amusement at your words.

“Again. Which one out of the hundreds of days like that?”

Your heart tightens at his words and you welcome them with a smile, shaking your head at his comment. Your hand lifts and lays over his arm, pushing him away from you as playful push for him to shup up such nonsense.

Michael looks down as the smile on his face stretches and a chuckle escape both of your mouths.

Your playful touch had been missed, and his body made it obvious to him. The way it warmed up and boiled after so many years of pure and utter cold.

Your hand falls back to your side as you two continue to walk in silence, eyes focusing on the path ahead.

In a simple matter of seconds, you find yourselves looking at each other, silently. Almost as if admiring one another.

“It was your birthday.” You admit, “The year before you left.”

“Why that one?”

You shrug, checking if you’re still too far from your destination.

“I don’t know. It just came to me for some reason.”

He nods and you steal a glance at his smiling self.

“Was it the amazing food that we loved so much that we had to run off?” He starts, “Or was it the amazing entertainment it was given to us throughout the evening?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and a weight lifts off Michael’s shoulders. How relaxing it feels.

“God, don’t remind me of that.” You say to him.

“Why? Is the awfully well decorated cake hunting your mind?”

Another chuckle leaves you and you roll your eyes.

“I see that you’re just as mean as before when it comes to analyzing other people’s hard work.” You joke with him and he smiles down at you.

“Guess so.”

Silence falls back in between you and you two walk calmly again, nothing rushing you to leave and get to the usual spot any quicker.

“What about you? What memories of the old times have been hunting you?” You jokingly ask.

“There have been a lot of them.”

“What was the last one you thought off?” You ask, trying to ease the question for him.

“Our first date.”

You snap your head at him, not expecting him to also confess that he was thinking of two of you, and he smiles at your reaction.

“Why?”

“I was shitting my pants before coming in here. Was scared you would bail on me. Just like I felt in our first date.” He confesses and you scowl.

There’s a silence of a few seconds before you decide to break it with your curiosity.

“Why would I bail on you?”

He scoffs.

“We both know the answer to that question.”

Silence.

Back to complete and utter silence, yet this time. It’s not as comfortable.

The sweet and loving conversation has died down with the slight indirect mention of how your relationship came to an end.

The patter of your feet is all you hear but also all you prefer to look at in this moment.

Michael steals a glance at you and notices the way you hesitate to look up.

He curses himself in his head and his smile is back down, dead, with no reason to come back so soon.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No.” You cut him off, “Don’t worry about that.” You stuff your hands back in the pockets of your jacket. “We had to talk about that sooner or later.”

He nods and you look up, seeing him do it.

“We’re getting close.” He announces, making you look up.

Oh God, you missed this.

The fields look the same, just as green and still with small specks of color from the wildflowers. The trees seem to have gotten bigger and fluffier in a way, but they’re still standing tall and creating the perfect little hidden spot between them.

Exactly where you and Michael used always sit.

Michael notices that you had stopped walking after taking a few steps alone, and when he looks back over his shoulder at you.

Memories and all types of emotions erupt through your body harshly. You breathe in deeply, eyes showing the slightest bit of tears of which you can not tell if it’s either sadness or happiness to be back after so long.

Michael notices your different mood, yet he doesn’t understand what is going on. He turns to you completely, having his back to the familiar fields to check on you and his eyes are stuck.

Your eyes are filled with emotion, a soft scowl is written over your face, decorating it. Your body seems to shake slightly at the wind that seems to love to come back at unfortunate moments, and you’re just there. Standing and staring.

You break from your trance as something in front of you appears. You look down to see Michael extending his hand to you, face soft with a comforting expression.

You lay your hand over his, taking it out of your warm pocket and Michael pulls you in further to take steps closer to your destination.

You do as he does while your hands fall connected by your sides. Your eyes are focused on them, staring down as if to check if it’s real or just like in your nightmares, realistic, yet so far deep in your mind that it will bring you great terror in a space of seconds.

Slowly, you get closer to the scenery you had just stared in the distance, and you start to notice small details. There are not as many flowers since autumn is still very much present in this day, yet the place is just as warm and welcoming, still shielding you from most of the cold wind.

Your hand stays connected with Michael’s even when you stand between the familiar trees, neither of you feeling capable enough to pull away yet. Your other hand reaches and touches the trunk of the tree you used to always sit next to.

It feels so unreal that you almost have to pinch yourself.

“Feels weird to stand here.” You confess.

Michael steps closer to you and nods.

“It’s been a long time.”

“A bit too long, maybe.” You add and he agrees again with a nod, “We used to almost come here everyday before winter. I missed it.”

You look up to meet Michael’s eyes and their icy blue color meets your gaze right away. They’re soft, familiar, and comforting.

“Want to sit?” He asks you, eyes still connected.

You nod and he lets go of your hand, for your (big) disappointment.

Michael takes a seat next to the tree and lays his back against it, and you’re quick to follow him, sitting by him, legs to your side as you adjust the thin fabric of your dress.

Michael sighs and your eyes find him again, he looks nervous. More than you.

“I should be the one to start talking.” He whispers, making you tilt your head as if to signalize that you’re listening, “I… Uhm… I-I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning would be great.” You joke, gaining a playfully annoyed look from him, “Okay… Uhm…”

You think for a second. Would it be too harsh id you just asked it?

“Why did you do it?”

Michael holds in a gasp at your sudden and direct question, and you continue to stare at him. He notices how you’re analyzing his face, from hair to chin, from ear to ear.

You’re studying him intensely, trying to find the answer yourself in his features.

“It’s stupid.” He says to you.

“I don’t care.” You admit, “I just want to know why.”

He has said, weeks prior, that he did not know why he had done it, which did lead you to scream at him and throw a plate at his head.

But you didn’t believe him, not even a bit. And the fact that he is hesitating to say it out loud now, it’s just a clear reason that good things surely aren’t going to come from his mouth.

“I did it be- because… Fuck.” He comments mid-sentence, shaking his head, finding his nerves ridiculous, “I did it because I couldn’t focus at work.” He licks his lips, eyes still focused on you, “Every time you called was awful. I felt helpless when you would tell me that you missed me and that you were worried about me.”

He sighs and you look at him confused.

“I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I couldn’t hear you tell me to be careful anymore. I knew I was going to get hurt at one point- It’s bad, I know it is, but I- I just couldn’t deal with your calls… They just made me want to come back home every time, and I… I knew couldn’t.” He confesses, stressed with his own words.

What the fuck is he saying?

“I started to worry about myself. I-I would panic because I was scared that I wouldn’t come back at one point… If I got too hurt or- you know.”

You stay silent.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He tells you.

Silent is set between you two again, and you, honestly, just want to hit him.

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” You curse at him.

He doesn’t say anything back, yet his mind is filled with questions: did I say enough? Did I say too much? Do I look or sound as much of an asshole as I feel like I do?

God, his words sounded so much better in his mind. Now it just all sounds like… He’s stupid, that’s what he sounds like.

You can’t believe him for a few good seconds.

For so long, you made yourself think so many awful things about yourself, and now you know you weren’t even the exact cause of the problem.

He didn’t break up with you because were too clingy or too annoying over the phone, it was because you were making him… be careful?

“What did you want from that one call?” You question, “And be honest.” You sound calm, surprisingly. “Just me to stop calling?”

“No.” He scowls at you, “I expected you to move along with your life. Find someone else.”

Oh, and the urge to punch him intensifies.

“I knew it would take time, but… I wanted you to find someone better, to just live your life.” He says sincerely and you continue to stare at him. “God, this sounds dumb but… It would be better for you to have someone in case I would never come back…” He sighs, “Does that even make sense?”

You don’t answer him, so he continues.

“When you stopped calling. I thought that’s what had happened.”

Calling after his final call, he means.

“God, Michael...” You exhale, looking away from him and shaking your head.

“It’s stupid of me, I know.” He comments to you, “I’m really sorry.”

His voice is small in the middle of your silence. It’s thick with emotion and you just know that he is beating himself for it still. For everything that he has done and stopped doing for the past few months.

His thoughts are degrading in every way possible. Michael can’t see a reason why they shouldn’t be. He knows you went through really rough few months because of him, now. Thoughts like his shouldn’t even be compared to something as small as a pinch.

You look back at him, yet your eyes don’t meet his. His gaze is focused on something in the distance, mind completely filled with thoughts you’re sure that you’re too familiar with.

“I’m going to forgive you. Not now, but I will.” You confess, “It will just take a bit of time on my part.”

Michael clenches his jaw, not really believing you for a second.

Is it bad that he doesn’t feel like he deserves it? He just gave you the most half assed justification and apology, yet you are still thinking about forgiving him?

Like, what the fuck?

“My ego is just too big for me to forgive you so soon.” You crack up a joke.

The slightest of curve appears over Michael’s lips, but his eyes still don’t go to you. You scratch the side of your neck and without him noticing, you shift to sit closer to him.

You look back at him before starting to talk again.

“Just so you know.” You start, “Your plan didn’t really work… I didn’t move on after… After you ended things.” You whisper.

His head snaps back at you and you hold a comforting look to welcome his eyes back to your own.

You don’t want him to feel worse, you really don’t want to. What’s done is done. Both of you can’t go back in time to change anything.

“You didn’t?”

“No.” You chuckle.

“Why not?”

“Fucking Birmingham men are disgusting.” You justify with a disgusted look on your face. “And I was already working for your family when I was feeling more… okay, so, I had to stay here, stuck with the sight of either saggy old men or just way too cocky younger men.”

He grins slightly at your distaste for the locals, and you offer him a smile.

“I am, supposedly, from Birmingham” He says, trying to sound offended, “And you dated me just fine.”

“Yeah, well…” You comment with a cringe and his grin grows, “You’re still three quarters a country boy, so you don’t really count.”

He rolls your eyes at you and you hit your shoulder with his playfully, swaying to force his stiff body to move a bit.

But, even with the playful mood and slight grin, he still looks hesitant.

“What’s done is done, Michael. The best thing we can do now is learn from it.” You tell him with a soft voice.

He just stares down at you.

“And just so you know, I should be upset at you. I feel like I should. And don’t get me wrong, I want to beat you up for being this stupid.” You confess, “God, you were supposed to be the smart one in all of this.” You add, exhaling your words.

He doesn’t say anything.

“And the reason why I’m not mad is that it has been a long time. I took a long time to heal and grow as a person.” You continue, “I just feel like all of that would’ve gone to waste if I became upset over the reason why it all happened.”

Still nothing from him.

“Blaming and hating ourselves doesn’t get us nowhere, you know?” You ask, “Especially hating other people. It’s just so stupid. Life is fucking shit. It is, but-” You sigh. “I don’t have to hate you for it, or… blame you for it.”

Where the hell are you going with this? Michael asks himself.

“You moved on, right?” You ask rhetorically, “Maybe it was meant to be.” You shrug, “Sure, it was a little harsh, but you found Gina. If you hadn’t made that last call to end…” You move your finger around to point at the two of you, “this… You would’ve been still dating me and not been able to be with her.”

Your words sort of hurt Michael. It is the truth, everything is true. If it weren’t for that last call, he wouldn’t have looked or thought of any other women but you.

No Gina, no nobody. Just you.

But is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?

His heart still beats for you, he knows he still feels for you. Every day that passes, it gets more and more intense. The same way his love for Gina disappears, yours grow.

It’s like his heart is pushing Gina away and open back the space that you once used to own and rule.

“What?” You question when noticing that Michael has been staring down at you and hasn’t said a thing.

“I still feel like I would’ve taken back what I did.” He confesses.

“And what about Gina?”

He shakes his head dismissively.

“She would’ve been fine without me.”

There’s a silence between you two again, and you’re just registering what has said and trying not to take it in a certain very biased way. All of that while he just stares at nothing.

“Where is she, by the way?” You ask curiously, “You’ve barely spent any time at the hotel lately.”

Michael scowls at thought about the fight they had in Polly’s kitchen.

“Yeah… We’re going through a rough patch, right now.”

“Really?” You ask and he nods, “God, you guys went from happily engaged to this in what…? A month and a half?”

He sends you a slight glare.

“What? It’s true.”

“What happened to not hate others? And that that will get you nowhere?” He comments and a smile grows on your face.

“Yeah, well…” You chuckle, “I don’t hate her. I just… dislike her. She was rude to me.�� You smile at him, “But, seriously, I really don’t like her. At all. Like god damnit, Michael, I’m sorry to say, but you sure don’t know how to pick them.”

A big chuckle escapes Michael and you smile at him triumphantly. He shakes his head at you and brings his gaze back to yours.

“I picked you. For years.”

“Yeah, and that’s why that’s obviously the highlight of your life.” You say nodding at him, and his lips finally stretch into a smile.

Who knew insulting him would’ve fixed his sad mood?

You bring your hand up and hesitatingly, you lay it over his, letting your fingers find their way to the space between his thumb and his pointer finger, sliding into his palm and giving it a squeeze.

Michael’s eyes move to your hands and you hold your breath, scared that he will pull away.

His eyes slowly come back up to you and they’re as soft as you’ve ever seen them. He holds your fingers and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly.

You give him a small smile and he exchanges hands, connecting your left hand with his right so it’s more comfortable to him.

He intertwines your fingers, slowly, and his movements are the slowest you’ve ever seen them, yet they’re sweet. Letting your fingers slide and fall themselves in between his or yours.

“I missed you.” He whispers under his breath, making you look up at him again. “A lot.”

You grin at him and give his hand a squeeze as your answer.

You don’t know it, but Michael is biting his tongue to not apologize to you again. The urge to do it is stronger than him.

It’s like if he repeats it for as many times possible, you will eventually forget what he did.

He doesn’t want you do forgive him. He wants you to just forget it. Act as if everything as always been perfect.

“I substituted you with Finn, so I can’t say the same.” You say playfully, making his lips pull up again.

“I noticed. Weirdest fucking pair, I swear.” He scoffs.

“Jealousy is a serious disease, Michael.” You comment back, nodding.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

“Excuse me?” You ask confused, yet still smiling.

“You’ve barely had a full conversation with Gina, but you just told me you ‘dislike’ her.” He says, amused tone, “Sounds like jealousy to me.”

You laugh at him and shake your head.

“Wow! You really are crazy.” You say, making him smile, “Must have been the air in New York. Probably messed your brain up.”

“Stop” He pokes your leg with his other hand, “Insulting.” Another poke, “Me.” Another poke. “It’s not funny.”

“Then why are you smiling so brightly at me, hey?” You ask with as just as big of a smile.

You two stare at each other with the smiles on your faces and your heart quickens at the sudden change of atmosphere. Everything seems so perfect between you two. Gina doesn’t seem like a barrier between you two anymore.

It’s like old times.

“Are you still marrying Gina?” You catch yourself asking.

His eyes widen slightly at your sudden question and your smile falls slightly. You’re embarrassed at the sudden slip of words but it’s already too late.

“I’m not sure.” He answers.

You react shocked at his answer. What is happening?

Both of your hearts are almost coming out of your chests, it’s like they’re going to explode if a specific confession escapes both your lips.

“Why?” You whisper, your voice failing you.

“I don’t-” He thinks for a second, “I don’t think I love her anymore.”

You hold in a sigh and continue to listen to him.

“I’ve been telling myself that she has changed ever since we got here, but…” He pauses, searching your face for any hesitation, “I think she has been like this all along. And all that has changed as been that-” He suddenly stops.

“That what?” You whisper, almost feeling out of breath.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop comparing her to you. Or look at her and just… wish that she’s you.”

Your breathing is heavy, almost like you’re fighting the weight of a thousand stones on your chest. Everything is going on too quickly, but all you feel is relief.

“What are you saying, Michael?” You ask, voice falling into a whisper again.

He stays silent, almost as if rethinking about what he’s about to say.

Your eyes unconsciously lower to Michael’s lips and his smile as fallen as well. He’s serious. Your breathing has gotten quicker without you even realizing, and when your eyes go back to Michael’s, you find him doing the same thing.

“I love you.”

You stop breathing, shock erupting through your system.

“I never stopped loving you. Never. I’ve been lying to myself for all this time, trying to make myself believe that I was happy with Gina but I’m not.” He says, “I’m not happy with anyone else but you. Because I can only love you. Only you. Nobody else.”

He said it.

He said everything that has been troubling his mind for so long. He finally said it.

He said what you have been dreaming that he would say for the longest time. You almost can’t believe this is reality. Your body has gone numb, your heart is beating at an insane speed.

It all just feels so unreal.

Michael’s mind is going at miles a second, overthinking ever curve of emotion in your face. Every twitch, every slight movement in your hand still holding his, now more loosely than before.

What if he spoke too soon? What if he just… destroyed everything you two could’ve still shared. You probably don’t even think about him in that way anymore. All that could’ve been shared as just friends was all destroyed now with his confession.

The confession you have waited for so long and expected it to never be real. The confession of his love for you.

You take a deep breath, feeling Michael tense up next to you at what seems like a way to compose yourself into talking again, and suddenly you let go of his hand.

Michael almost gasps at the lack of your natural warmth against his palm and his heart begins to break, threatening to shatter with just a simple movement.

And then, you just bring your hand behind his neck and pull him towards you, letting your lips connect like the old times. Like the old times you have been visiting lately in your mind for this long and painful time.

It all feels like fireworks are erupting through your body, pinching your muscles and making them rise awake to reality.

You and Michael don’t move for a few quick seconds, but as soon as his lips move and his head tilted slightly to the side, you felt like you could cry.

His nose scrapes your cheek as you kiss sweetly and slowly, and Michael’s hands find their way to you. You gasp against his lips as his hands touch your waist and the thin, almost see-through, fabric of your dress does you no justice.

You bring both of your hands to his face and cup it close to you as he pulls you in to him with his hands. You sit on your knees, rising and your lips disconnect with the sudden movement.

You meet his eyes before you move any further and you feel like you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Michael pulls you in and you move to straddle his lap, his eyes run through your body, eyeing every bit of skin his eyes can lay on as you move, and your jacket opens naturally. You lean your lips to his again and he is the one to begin the kiss this time. His fingers dig deliciously into the ribs by your waist and your hands go up to his hair.

His hands drag from your waist to your hips and down your legs, rising your dress to finally touch your skin. Its warmth is so familiar and so calming that Michael feels like he could pass out right in that second.

You gasp as his grip on your upper thighs intensifies and you pull away slightly. There is absolutely no regret or shame in both of your stares, absolutely nothing. Michael brings his hands up and slides the jacket off your shoulders.

You let him take it off and he lays it by his side, a hand comes to rest over your back and in the matter of a second, you’re laying on your back on the cold but dry ground while Michael is hovering over you.

Michael connects your lips again and you smile into the kiss. His lips as just as soft as you remember them, and he still kisses in the same way. You feel like you’re in a dream all over again.

He pushes away and before you could even open your eyes, his mouth starts pressing soft and wet kisses all over your neck. Your hand moves back to his hair and he slowly leaves a trail down your jaw and neck down to your exposed chest, savoring absolutely every bit of soft exposed skin.

You pull down the collar of his blazer and he seems to get the hint, because he lifts off you, making your body erupt into shivers from the cold. He takes off his jacket and throws it next to you, and as his hands work down his waistcoat, your lips find their way to him again.

A soft inhale of air escapes Michael’s mouth at the feeling of your lips and he’s quick to take off another layer of his suit, not caring if he rips a button or not. He lays you back down and follows you to the ground, holding himself up by his arms and laying right in the middle of your legs.

You two smile at each other as soon as your noses touch and the sound of a soft peck interrupts the silence.

Michael is completely lost in the bliss of the moment, just savoring every single second of it. While you still believe you’re in shock with whatever is going on.

Months prior to this you would’ve passed out with just the idea of seeing Michael again, and probably even punch yourself if you knew what would happen later on, or now. But, god, you couldn’t care less, now.

With only an arm holding him up, Michael squeezes the soft skin of your thigh and starts layering the skin close to your neck with kisses all over again. You, impatient as one can be, lay your hand over his and pull it further towards you.

The dress falls to your hips and exposes your skin to the cold evening. Both of your hands play with the buttons on Michael’s shirt before being able to pull it off him and expose his chest to you.

He presses a kiss onto your lips again and sits up on his knees, pulling away from the kiss and staring as if to make sure this isn’t his mind playing tricks on him and it’s really you.

He discards his shirt to one of his sides, not really caring if it will fly with the wind and it will lose it forever.

“What do you mean ‘okay’, Michael?” You ask, confused, staring at the plain wall in front of you.

“I’m agreeing with what you said. Maybe it is true.” He says through the phone, “You keep on calling me every day-”

“What?” You ask, scowling, “I haven’t called in so long… You-you haven’t picked up any of my calls… Michael, I just want to check on you.”

“I am fucking working, Y/N- God. It’s always the same thing. You’re always fucking checking on me. I. Am. Fine.” He says with the most arrogant and angry tone you’ve ever heard him with.

“How am I supposed to know that? You’re almost across the world, Michael, the only thing I can do is call you.” You defend yourself, shaking your head in confusion, “We haven’t talked in months.”

“I just. I just want you to stop it, okay?” He questions. “I am so done with this. With you making everything seem like such a big and dangerous thing when it never is. You just keep on distracting me all the time. I need to work.”

“What?”

“You did it just now. I went to work today, like any other day. Stayed on my office, did what I was supposed to do. What Tommy ordered me to do. I just told you that I had someone on my office, and you got all fucking worried- like Jesus, Y/N.” He takes a deep breath, “This is my job. I need to do this-”

“I know.”

“You don’t seem like you do.” He continues, “You’re constantly asking and-”

“That’s not true-”

“But it is. Every time you call, it’s always this same thing… I’m tired.” He sighs his words at the end.

You stay silent for a few seconds, letting his words sink in.

“I’m… just worried about you.” You whisper and he sighs, “I- I didn’t mean to-to interrupt you or to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

Tears well up at your eyes and a small shaky breath escapes your mouth, yet it isn’t picked up by the phone.

Michael stays silent as well, making your heart ache more by each second.

You blink your tears away and look up at the window beside you, letting the streetlights shine into your cold and lonely room.

Your bed is still made. The wind of the winter is still hitting the old windows harshly, making them whistle as they hold themselves together. But that is all you have, their whistle and the soft lighting.

Other than that, is you and your silence.

“Well, if I’m such a burden to you then maybe it’s better if we stop talking to each other.” You let the hurtful words escape your mouth before you could even catch them. Too late to take them back.

You don’t hear anything from the other side of the call. For a few seconds you believe that Michael had ended the call before you even said anything else, but his voice comes back.

His voice comes back and shatters the silence with the bitter truth.

“Okay.”

And after that, all Michael heard was the small and weak beeps signalizing the end of the call. Signalizing the end of you and him ever being together. Signalizing the end of your long relationship.

And the supposed end of your love for him and his love for you. Just… the end.

You tilt your head to the side as Michael continues to kiss down your neck and you close your eyes. Your hand is lost on his hair as you get lost in thought. Why does the memory need to come back now?

Michael lifts his head and looks down at you. The look on your eyes confused him and he pulls back to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, fearing the worst.

You don’t answer, yet your hand moves to cup the side of his face. He leans closer to your palm and your heart tightens.

He’s sorry. He apologized. He regrets it. He wants to take it back. Michael. Your Michael wants to take it back.

You pull him closer to you and you reconnect your lips with his. The kiss is soft all over again and the feeling is enough to push all those awful memories and thoughts away.

Your hands travel down his cheeks to his neck and lightly travel down to his chest and his stomach. Your feather like touch makes Michael’s skin erupt into chills from how soft and light it is.

“I love you.” You whisper into his lips.

He looks at you in the eyes and whispers his answer back.

“And I love you.”

Your fingers fidget with the button of his pants and soon unbutton it with a quick movement. Michael looks down at your hands and smiles, looking back up and presses a kiss onto your jaw.

He pulls away, and without wasting any more time or feeding more into your impatience, he takes a hold of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your underwear and your stomach. Michael takes a hold of the sides of your undergarments and pulls them down your smooth legs.

The cold air and the sight steal small, almost inaudible, gasps from the two of you. Another piece of clothing flies off to the side, which makes you chuckle slightly, and Michael smiles at the sound of your laughter.

You stare up at the tree above you for a second and you soon feel soft kisses being pressed at the bottom of your stomach. It has been long enough since you’ve felt something like this, yet it feels familiar, which makes sense.

It is still Michael. It has just been a long time.

“Michael,” You call out of him, holding yourself up by your elbows, “There’s no time for this, please.”

You didn’t have to say twice, because Michael quickly rose his body back up and pressed a kiss into your lips again.

There’s the sound of his zipper and soon the shifting of fabric and while lost in the kiss, Michael lays you back on the ground comfortably. His hand grabs into your leg and squeezes it softly, feeling himself lost for a second as your soft hands travel through his skin.

You gasp into the kiss as you feel him press into your entrance and Michael clenches his jaw at the sudden warmth touching him. You pull him close to you and Michael’s spear hand almost digs into the ground as he hides his head on your neck.

His other hand aligns him and slowly, he moves his hips towards yours. You groan lowly at the intrusion and he stops, giving you time as he doesn’t you to feel any kind of discomfort.

Your hand, that holds the back of Michael’s head, closes and he moves slightly again, moving in closer and closer to you, taking your movements as a hint for him to keep going. His cock slowly sliding into you, inch by inch, letting your warmth and wetness envelop him into its familiar hold that he so missed.

You gasp and he holds himself steady right as your take him all in. He lifts his head to check on you and his lips pepper your skin with soft kisses, some lost in his uneven breathing as he does so.

“You can move.” You whisper at him.

He doesn’t say anything, he lifts a few inches away from you and his hand comes back to your thigh. His movements start and they soon become thrusts.

Your soft gasps evolve into moans and Michael swears he’s dreaming. Your sounds are complete music to his ears, making them vibrate at the sweetness they carry, and, god, he had missed this.

Slowly, his thrusts start to accelerate, and your eyes force themselves closed. The way Michael’s hips hit yours and the way you squeeze him is driving the both of you insane. Your nails are digging into his arm as a small ball of pleasure starts to build up at the end of your stomach.

Michael lifts his arm and lays his hand beside your head. He eyes your body, still covered by the almost see-through fabric.

His breathing his loud and the sound of your bodies colliding with each other is all that fills your ears. His hand lets go of your leg and goes to your waist, his eyes analyzing your chest.

Michael presses a kiss on your sternum, over your dress and you arch your back at the feeling of his soft and warm lips. He clenches his jaw as the fabric stretches and exposes your chest to him, braless, nipples peeking through and appearing noticeable.

A shear layer of sweat covers the top of Michael’s forehead as the wind cools the warmth the both of you are creating. He lowers his head again and kisses you over the fabric of your dress that hugs your body so beautifully.

He looks down at where the two of you connect and a groan escapes his lips.

He, without any warning, grabs into your leg again and pulls up to your chest, letting another soft moan escape your mouth.

“Fuck, Michael…” You whisper at him.

He lifts off you and brings his other hand to your other leg. Still thrusting into your pussy, the sight as just improved to Michael, while you are lost at the difference it made to just rise your legs.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He mumbles at you, voice almost breaking into a whisper from his heavy breathing.

You throw your head back as his movements speed up and the pleasure in you intensifies.

After so long, it almost feels unreal to feel such emotion. It is more than pleasure, it’s an explosion of emotions.

All of those same emotions have been bottled up at the back of your mind and long forgotten, almost as if you had dismissed them because you didn’t believe you would ever feel them ever again.

But they are back and you’re feeling them at such a rate that you feel like tears are starting to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

You’ve probably thought this a thousand times, but, god, it feels like you’re dreaming. You pray that this won’t end in any way close to how your dreams usually do, but in a way, you’re not worried.

You don’t fear a bad ending in this, you don’t feel scared or anxious. You feel good. You feel happy and loved. Loved by someone who has shown way more love to you than any other person.

Someone you would vow to never stop loving if it meant that he will never leave your side. Someone that has never belonged to someone the same way he has belonged to you. No matter who has or will come in between you, you know the truth and you believe that it is the truth.

He loves you. He hurt you, but he loves you. He showed he was sorry, he apologized- Jesus, he saved your life. He didn’t let you die in his arms. He cried and feared your death right when you were bleeding a puddle into the ground.

Michael belongs to you and nobody else. He knows it, and he has told that himself that many times before. Now more than ever.

He belongs to you and you belong to him. And that is just how it is, and how it always will be.

A/N.: I am not going to lie... I cried when proofreading Michael’s confession about his feelings. I’m such a cry baby, god.

[Sorry that the apology part was so shit. I, myself, struggled with justify that shit and got myself annoyed with it.]

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#michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagines #michael gray #finn shelby #finn cole x reader #finn cole imagine #finn cole imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines

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