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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years ago

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Hiii i love ur writing so i have a request for tommy shelby but its kinda weird so feel free to ignore it so this is how it goese

Readrer and tommy are childhood friends and he always loved her but didnt tell her andd one day the reader gets with someone and they do the deed and tommy finds out and also he kinda like brags it to tommy so he gets angry and either kills him or hurt him badly and when she finds out shes like super angry n screaming cursing like full angst but then a happy ending after a few years or anything basically ill leave it up to u

Thank you

Love

Hey Anon,

Thank you for this cute request. I really tried for angsty but may have failed slightly. Hope you still enjoy it and thank you for waiting so so so long. <3

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, happy ending, descriptions of panic

Tommy was sure that his life was comprised of inconvenient moments. He was born early, setting the rest of his life off balance. Everything happened a few moments too late or too soon. He was used to struggling enough as it was but this bad luck weighed heavily on his shoulders today.

The current moment he was caught on, was you getting stuck on the opposite side of the city, making you miss his train departing for the war. The exact moment he was going to kiss you and tell you to wait for him. A situation that could have been completely avoided if he’d just listened to Arthur and asked you out ages ago.

He’d had to wait for your letter that was delivered wrongly three times before finally finding him. His annoyance was buried under the relief he felt knowing you’d not stood him up. Just got tangled up in his bad luck. He had a moment where he was tempted to write back. Confess everything. The thought that he’d not be able to see you react prevented him from writing anything of meaning. What if he wrote you something soul-baring and it destroyed his only friendship outside his family? In person he could be casual and see if you showed interest, then he could proceed to the soul-baring nonsense.

He just had to make it out of this alive.

Getting home he almost regretted that choice. He was broken, and you were hardened by the hardship of running things with Pol, but still very much intact.

Your eyes and bright smile seemed to follow him everywhere. So much of himself had sunk away. The realization that if he took you, he’d have to share you with his ominous bad luck. A belief that was only further reinforced by the obvious interactions with his family. No matter how much he tried. Someone always needed you or wanted in on the conversation.

Feeling defeated and jaded he got lost in his plans to push the business, something he thought was productive till it created a larger rift in the family. A divide you’d not chosen a side for yet.

Just when things had really spun out of control a large sum of inventory fell into his lap. One of great importance to the government.

All that running around and yet he still noticed the way you left work that evening, hair and makeup done. Fancy dress. Everything for someone else.

He rarely had feelings anymore, but when he watched you greet him on the sidewalk a sharp pain emerged in his chest. One that he hoped would grow to consume him whole before sending him to the grave.

But he was granted no such luck.

____

Three days and you’d been off in your own thoughts, thoughts about someone else when all he could do was think about you.

“Alright, Tom?” You’d asked putting the kettle on.

“Fine.” He answered in an even tone before pulling out a cigarette.

“Things between us-” Your words grabbed his interest just as John came through the kitchen entry.

“Got a lot of folks down there, help Pol.” He asked you easily before moving to take your spot at the stove. You gave him a look. He had no idea what it meant but he felt stupid thinking it was anything at all. You hurried down the stairs.

“What’s that about?” John asked pouring the hot water into the worn tea pot.

“I’d know if you didn't interrupt her.”

“Don’t like that new fella of hers,” John said ignoring him.

“Why?” Tommy hoped there would be a valid reason. Something he could save you from before stealing you away.

“He’s not you.” John laughed. “If I knew you were going to leave her up for grabs, I would have snagged her ages ago.”

Tommy didn't have the energy to respond. He only picked up the newspaper and went back to sulking.

_______________________

The day ended in the Garrison. Some Irish broad decided to sing a song meaning it was his time to leave before he burnt the place down. Getting up from the nook he gave John a nod and they both moved outside.

“What a bunch o’ whining,” John muttered pulling out a cigarette, Tommy did the same. They both stood there enjoying the cold air when he noticed a few men approaching from further up the alleyway.

“Shelby!” One of the men called out. He was clearly high on liquid courage as his voice slurred. Tommy turned in his direction catching the look of enjoyment on John’s face.

The men continued shouting till they finally came out of the shadows. The tallest man was unmistakable and for once he was more excited for a fight than John was.

“What you on about?” John asked flicking his cigarette at them.

“Slept with your sweetie! Billy Kimber sends his regards.” The men began laughing and Tommy felt a small flicker of something growing in his chest.

It didn’t take much from him and John before the men were badly bloodied.

“You leave what’s mine alone. Now give my regards to Mr. Kimber.” He spat on them as John pulled him back, looking down at them he wondered if they were dead.

He on the other hand felt very much alive. A momentary sense of victory washed over him and let out a breath he’d been holding for what felt like years.

They enjoyed the cold walk back to the flat, his mind on high alert thinking of all the possible outcomes that could be around the corned. Seeing you sitting with Polly at the kitchen table made everything in his head fall silent.

He’d slept with her because of him.

You and Pol sprung into a million questions. He thought about telling you but decided to descend the stairs up to his room.

“Tom” John’s voice called out from the landing and he looked down at him over the railing. He made a bunch of gestures that translated to something along the lines of “This is your shot with her - stop fucking it up.”

“Later.” He said quietly before continuing up the stairs. He needed to think of a plan.

Kimber was already all over them, Campbell right behind him. Then there was the Lee family. Finally, the mob boss of all the problems, how angry you were going to be when you found out.

He sat there on the bed, the pain from the hits he’d not avoided starting to sink in.

________________________________________________________________________

Reader POV

You were conflicted about Tommy. Well, you were always conflicted about Tommy these days. You were overwhelmed with joy and felt sure that he’d not waste any time with you once he’d gotten home.

You gave him a timeline in your mind. If he didn't ask you out within the first month of being back you’d move on.

Easier said than done. Especially when he and John come home looking like they’d just slaughtered a bunch of pigs. All for the mystery business Tom was conducting behind your back.

You sighed and said good night to Pol before walking home. You were waiting for one of the boys to do it, but that didn't look likely. You were about to tie your jacket when Arthur came downstairs.

“Walk you home, love.” He said while opening the front door.

“Thanks.” You said before following him out into the darkness. You rarely spent alone time with the eldest Shelby and wondered what you would talk about. You set out down the street wishing you’d brought an extra sweater.

“Now, I know you're probably mad about what went down. But there's a few things you gotta understand ‘bout Thomas.”

“Oh?” You didn't know what he was going off about but decided to play along.

“He means well, just gets all twisted up inside his big head. Wants to get the family out of this” He waved his hand around, gesturing to the heaps of garbage spilling out of a dumpster in the alley they were passing. “ I don't think he wants to bring you any closer to himself in case you get hurt in the process.”

“Look while all of you were gone I was in the line of fire more than anyone ‘round here. I can handle myself” You growled tired of always being brushed off and looked down on. Amusement flashed in Arthur's eyes but he knew better than to let it reach his face.

“I know love, I’m just telling you he loves you he’s just at war with him self -”

“He loves me?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to Arthur. His face flushed obviously realizing he’d said too much.

“We’ll I - I thought that was a bit obvious - ya know” He shrugged while looking up at the sky awkwardly looking for the right words to fix things. “Why else would he do that?”

“Do what? Be distant and miserable?”

“Well yeah, that’s what it's like for us blokes” He shook his head “No, I mean he almost killed that bloke for ya. Working for Kimber this whole time, John said it was a blood bath - Havent had to pull him off someone like that in - well, possibly ever.”

Your stomach knotted up painfully and you looked at Arthur in disbelief.

“Don’t beat yourself up lamb, men are truly awful creatures if not tamed by the right crowd -” Arthur trailed off but you stopped listening. That bastard - he lied - or is Tommy lying?

No way he was working for Kimber - this was just Tommy, trying to get his way the only way he knew how. You felt the anger bubble up inside you.

“I’m going to kill him,” You said breathlessly as hot rage started to spill over the edges of your mind.

“Ah Women -” You slapped Arthur’s arm before turning and running back towards the apartment. You threw the door open and ascended the stairs. Polly stepped out of her bedroom looking startled in her nightgown.

“What the -” She started but her voice was drowned out by the blood pounding in your ears. You opened his door and saw him perched on the side of his bed. He’d changed and cleaned himself up, his face looking at you with a concerned expression.

“YOU MOTHER FUCKER-” You shouted and something heavy dislodged itself from your chest causing a long stream of abuse to fall out of your mouth.. You hated how well he took it. Sitting there, watching you patiently on his bed with an unamused expression. It drove you insane, the way his eyes followed you. You’d kicked off your shoes and thrown them in his direction.

“You can’t just make up stories and beat people up because your too cowardly to do the right thing. If you liked me then you should have loved me. Been kind to me, been there for me. Instead you just - you just - act like a fucking monster all the time -” You’d been throwing things around the room a large vase smashed at your feet.

“You don’t love me and he doesn't work for Kimber.” You said finally, looking down at the glass surrounding your sock-covered feet. Slight miscalculation. Your eyes were filled with tears and despite wanting to shout a thousand more curses at him, your throat had closed up tightly.

He stood up and moved towards you. His hands picked you up by the arms and you were too startled by his calm nature to do anything other than let him move you. He placed you on top of his bed, you looked down at him only slightly taller than him with the bed under you.

He pinched your jaw and looked you dead in the eye.

“I do love you.” He said firmly and you couldn't bring yourself to look away from his wide eyes. Filled with things you hadn't seen in so many years.

“This is my fault, you understand? I should have told you long before you fell into his grip. My fault - so I’ll apologize.” You watched him carefully. “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and his breath brushed across your face.

You were too consumed with his close proximity to feel the full weight of his words. His eyes held you in a way that made you know you were seen. You had all of his attention.

“I want proof.” You murmured under direct order from the one part of your brain that was still functioning. He put the final nail in the coffin when he gave you a small crooked smile.

“Then I’ll get you proof.” He said back, amusement plain on his face. With your jaw still trapped between his fingers you felt him press his lips to yours. There was a starving neediness that had been weighing on you both for so many years. No amount of kissing or passion could possibly satisfy the feelings inside of you. You grabbed for him and held him as close to you as possible. All that anger only intensified the heat that was radiating through your body.

He pulled away from you and your fingers started to work open the top button of his shirt. His hand grabbed both of yours and his eyes caught yours again.

“Stay here, alright. Wait for me, for the last time eh?”

“Why?”

“Going to go get your proof.” He moved away from you and you stepped off the bed. “Stay.” He motioned to the bed. “Lots is going to happen tonight. But I need you to run things tomorrow with Pol. Keep the place a float.”

“Alright, when will you be back?” You started to get angry again at his secret keeping.

“To try and sort things between Kimber, then hopefully deal with Campbell. Won’t be gone long - Keep the place safe, take the gun in the drawer. Keep it on you at all times.”

You nodded at him then watched the back of him walk away like so many times before. Something settled in your bones.

The next three days it was like in the war, back up at all times waiting for something to happen. But on the third night, he finally came back to you. The door opened and you saw him move into the small bathroom to clean himself off.

He pushed you across the bed and climbed in beside you. You looked as he handed you a piece of folded paper. There were bloody fingerprints soaked into the paper making you wish you had a hanker chief to cover your fingers.

Opening it you could tell it was a pay stub made out to that idiot, signed by none other than Billy Kimber. Your stomach twisted painfully, and you wished you had a mother to tell. Someone that knew the embarrassment and shame, someone to tell you how to carry it. You wished this could have been some normal heartbreak where you can push it down and never speak of it again, but here it was on display.

“Oh.” You whispered not knowing what else to do.

“There’s your proof.” He said a faint sound of victory in his tired tone. His reaction made you angry all over again, but before you could lay into him about thinking this was funny he put his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Finally fucking won one.” He let out a long breath.

“What do you mean?” You whispered. They won the war, won various street fights, they’d really rarely lost.

“Been trying to ask you since we were 12.” He mumbled placing a kiss to your neck that made your heart flutter. You let out a small laugh. “Now I won’t have another day where I'm not beside you. No war, no work here you don't know about or can't handle. Nothing between us.” His words warmed your heart, and years of pain fell from his features. He sounded like your best friend again, filled with dreams and wonder.

“Except clothes.” You said in a coy tone. His eyes opened and he took no time manhandling you causing a much-needed loud laugh to escape from your chest.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby one shot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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deeranger · 3 months ago

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Lost in the Woods

So, I made this drawing and a little imagine for the SPN Eldritch Bingo 2024 for the square "Lost in the woods".... 🙃

Word count: 1,277

Characters: Sam Winchester

Warnings: Open/ambiguous ending, implied possible mcd, creepy forest entity

The cold yellow light from the moon somewhere above is quick to bleed into almost pitch-black darkness as soon as it hits the naked canopy. The many crooked branches simply filter it out, like skinny fingers grabbing and choking out the light. Sam can barely see his own hand in front of his face, let alone where he's putting down his feet. Great. That's just great. He should've never gone on this hunt alone.

Only faint remnants of moonlight manage to weakly illuminate the ground in random spots scattered on the forest floor and on tree trunks and shrubbery. It creates an eerie sort of glow that seems to contrast the black, and Sam would probably find it fascinating if it wasn't for the fact that this place is oozing pure evil. It's like the forest is watching him, like there's something breathing right down the back of his neck. It feels... Ancient. So much so that even the oldest oak tree in this godforsaken place is no match at all for the age of whatever lives here. One thing is for sure, it is never going to let go should it get its claws into him. And a scary feeling is brewing in Sam's mind that that is exactly what's going to happen if he doesn't find his way out of here. And soon. God, he should've stayed on the trail.

A twig loudly snaps under his boot, and the young Winchester swallows down a gasp. With his pulse skyrocketing, he freezes to the spot like a statue, all senses on high alert. The forest seems to hold its breath along with him, waiting... And watching. The feeling of being observed is intense, and Sam suddenly feels like a newborn gazelle circled by a hungry pack of lions, all alone and vulnerable in the middle of the goddamn savanna. He's a friggin' sitting duck and he knows it. And whatever is out there knows it too... And it's getting closer. He can feel it. Shit.

The hunter's fingers that clutch the Taurus have turned slick with sweat now even though the forest is chilly. And suddenly, he's seriously doubting if the silver bullets in the gun's chamber will help him at all. Probably not. Same goes for the flask of holy water in his pocket. And for some reason he's pretty sure that spewing out an exorcism won't work either.... Not out here, not on this thing. No, this time he's in way over his head and every weapon he brought is pretty much as useful as a chocolate teapot.

Cursing himself internally, Sam strains to pick up on whatever is lurking in the shadows... But all he gets is darkness, silent as the grave. It's like he's being watched from all sides, like danger is somehow everywhere around him now, pitch-black and one with the shadows clinging to every surface. It's omnipresent, a looming threat ready to pounce at him from any angle. He needs to turn back, needs to get the hell out of here now if he's going to stand a chance at getting out alive. But how? It's all around him and he lost his bearings a long time ago. He isn't even sure which direction to move in and by now he's not sure if it matters either. He's surrounded.

"What are you?" he hears himself ask into the chilly forest air. It comes out shakier than he'd like, and a gray mist hangs in the air from his breath until it evaporates and disappears, fleeting like a ghost. But the forest doesn't answer. Instead it offers more silence, heavy and ominous, and the darkness seems to somehow grow blacker yet, choking out the last bit of moonlight.

"What do you want??" Sam tries, automatically backing up when the night expands and creeps closer, black and tar-like and threatening. It's everywhere. The metallic taste of adrenaline spreads in his mouth, and his heart hammers against his breast bone with such frantic speed that he's uncertain if he might be passing out. He can't see anything. The blackness has reached him now, thick and evil and almost pulsing with something too ancient to even name. It's clinging to him, like a terrifying second skin, alien and predatory and freezing.

"No—"

It feels like he's breathing icewater all of a sudden, like his lungs are freezing over, blooming ice crystals gnawing at his insides and lodging themselves in every tiny blood vessel. It's like he's literally getting smothered from the inside, chest too heavy to even heave properly despite his efforts. God, he's never felt a cold like this before. This is… This is it, isn't it? Instinctively, he knows he doesn't have long, maybe just a minute or two before it's too late. Before he's absorbed into whatever it is that's pouring into him, devouring him. Killing him.

"D-Don't—" he chokes, and panicked he tries to force his eyes to see anything but blackness, to identify what it is that is now lifting him off the ground. He expects to see the crooked branches overhead, like bony fingers of an old crone reaching for him on a backdrop of pale moonlight, but he sees nothing. Nothing except a sea of black, a void, endless and hungry and absolutely diabolical.

As he feels life draining from him, his mind frantically spins and races in one big jumbled-up mess. His life flashes before his eyes, pictures of his childhood, of countless dingy motel rooms, faces of monsters that are no more and of those that got away, of everything that matters and doesn't, of all the things he still wants to do, what he needs to do... And like a red thread in all of it is his big brother's face. Dean. He can't leave Dean. Not like this, and... And not yet. He's not ready, the world isn't ready. But most importantly.... Dean is not ready. It's way too soon, his big brother will not be able to cope with losing him like this so soon after what happened at Cold Oak, after Sam left him the first time. No, he'll spiral in no time, Sam is certain of it. Or he might make an even nastier deal of some sort in his efforts to bring him back… And Sam can't let him do that, can't let him lose himself like that again. But what can he do to prevent it, really? Hell, not even Castiel can heal the kind of hurt Dean is going to feel no matter how hard he tries. Oh… Wait. He forgot. That could be his last chance, the very last straw to grasp at. He's not sure if he can even get his vocal cords to move, but he has to try, has to focus despite the solid cold that has settled deep in every bone. But he's listened before.... Maybe he will listen again? Just once? He has to. He has to.

With the last bit of air left in his lungs, Sam prays to the night sky he knows is somewhere up above him, obscured by ragged branches and blackness. It takes all of his might, and in the chilly forest air he calls out for the angel, voice thin and cracking. He feels the darkness around him angrily pulse in response and it constricts, wraps around his body like a snake, coiling and deadly silent. There's no room to breathe anymore. There's no room at all, and Sam falls as silent as the forest around him, blind and paralyzed... And waiting. Waiting for the flutter of wings or footsteps to approach. Just waiting. Hoping.

#Spn eldritch bingo 2024 #Spn #fan art #sam winchester #supernatural fanart #horror #imagine #vignette #supernatural #Fanfiction #dark #traditional art #dee draws #dee writes

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merao-mariposa · 8 months ago

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Who will you call?

When the end draws near who are you going to call?

The sky is burning and there is nothing to fight for, nothing to fight against because your opponent is invincible, the fear of death swallows you alive but its march is inexorable and you know in your heart that it is all, suddenly your life passes in front of your eyes and you call a name, what is it?

Chayanne!

The little warrior have fought well but it is all for, only at the end can he feel his heart tighten, have he failed? Again? This can't end here he don't want it to end here and suddenly he calls his papa Missa.

Whenever he's not with Tallulah or another egg to protect, I think Chayanne would call Missa.

He is terrified that it is the end of him, they (his family) love him and he knows that there will be no danger for his papá here. He does need consolation, Is it too much to ask?

He is a good boy, a great warrior, and he did try so well. He knows that either of his parents will assure him that he did the best he could. He knows that they will give him soft guarantees that will make the feeling of inadequacy and pain diminish.

But he wants his dad Missa.

He knows he's not thinking, anyone knows that Dad Phil can face any danger better than Missa would.

But he's not being rational, he's being sentimental, he's not being the big brother, he's being the little egg who he knows he is.

He wants the tranquility that Missa can offer with the simple aura; he wants the happy optimism that Missa sticks out like a sore thumb in his gloomy and ominous appearance.

But Chayanne knows better that his father is naive, and so kind that's why he has to protect him! Even though now it seems that he won't be able to.

He doesn't want dad Phil to see him like this almost as much as he longs for his gentle protection and the right words of encouragement from him. Chayanne wonders what would he think of him?

Nothing bad, he would probably be filled with worry, concentrating on speaking sincerely and with his heart in his hand.

Like the last time…

But Chayanne knows deep inside, at his young age that this is the definitive one for him, there will be no another time.

So if he can't have all together, his family (please let the boy have all there he loves them and he needs to see them one last time)

Then he would ask for his father, the man who sang the first song he ever heard in his life, name him, teach him water drops and how to cook, the one who teach him how to turn his violence into something profitable, he wants the man who makes him happy with only his appearances in his life outside of his busy schedule.

He wants, he does need to feel loved and protected like he once did when he was a tiny egg just came to life. Maybe it sounds so childish but a part of him needs to feel like a loved and silly child again.

So this is the end…

Chayanne seeks the comfort that his papá Missa inspires, Oh how he wants to hear him sing one last time…

Tallulah!

Her lungs squeeze painfully in her chest, the chaos around her roars like a thousand beasts indiscriminately that she already has enough pain in his body without having more, there is nowhere to run, can't run, and the name Philza turns to her tongue…

Beyond the first eggs, like Chayanne, that were loved upon arrival, Tallulah arrived with a heavy heart from the beginning.

Spreading her love everywhere as a mere defense against abandonment or at least in part (it was not the intention of the islanders to abandon her, the adoption process was not well done, some with two eggs and others with one, it was not fair for her or hope)

But on the other hand she knew what it was like to not feel the love she saw in others, she strove to give it to everyone to share just what she lacked.

In this context she comes to Philza, holding hands with Missa will not deny that she embedded part of his appearance in herself, so similar; music, ghosts, and even colors.

It was easier to protect herself from the bond that she could have with Chayanne's father if she looked like someone else (even if he was still another of Chayanne's father).

But if there is something that hurt Tallulah, it was loneliness, every bit of it was like returning a little to that Federation attic, alone eating dirt to survive.

Her fate could have been worse than this, that would have been a lonely, tragic ending.

She knows it now but before she wasn't so sure.

A mixture of jealousy and anguish choked in her throat when she saw the other children so… complete and free without having to earn anyone's love /God, she and Missa are so similar, those who say that he is not her father are so wrong.

Then she was struck down by overwhelming guilt because she had someone she had Phil! But Phil is Chayanne's father, not hers.

Never hers.

While all the other children freely adopted these traits of their parents, Tallula is happy to just see herself as her own person because she does not believe that she can bring herself the shame of imitating her loved brother's father.

She will never be able to steal it! Only sometimes it is impossible for her wings to not be blackish or for her hair to be so dark.

They are all she have, all the family she knows and that she can say about them beyond the fact that they love her deeper than she has ever let herself love others.

Words will never be enough to explain how grateful she is to them.

So she expresses it with actions, her flute, flowers, nicknames, always looking for a way to convey her feelings that she does not verbally, to share a little of how happy they make her even with the black cloud hanging over her head.

The black cloud refuses to abandon her, be it the Federation that left her behind, the monster that traumatized the people she loves most in the world, being kidnapped multiple times (isolated for a moment, alone, so alone) and walking through hell.

But they are always there, especially dad Phil!

When they took them back to that dark attic that she thought she would never return to, and when they visited that macabre place called egg island her dad Phil was always there, late sometimes, but always there, always found her.

He managed to pick her up when the code stabbed her and she arrived just in time to pull him out of the water after his (failed) leap of faith.

Could she begin to repay him for all the love and security that he made her feel? Maybe not, but that didn't matter.

Because now he understands that he doesn't have to “pay” or “earn” her father's love, she can simply… have it. To have love, to have a father and to be a daughter without being ashamed or guilt. As Chay once told her; "The more people, the more love to share."

Tallulah has been through terrifying things before, she sees it in how her life flashes before her eyes but she surprises herself that she has peace in this moment because she knows that her dad Phil will arrive, even if it is not to save her, she knows he will be there, He will be there with her and that is more than she could ask for (although she would ask for her entire family to be there)

There are worse ways to die and now she knows it better than dying of hunger in an attic forgotten by God, at least where she is now she knows that she is loved and when the storm passes she will still be loved.

She hopes that dad Phil is proud because she fought so hard and came so far. She knows that he is...

#qsmp #qsmp missa #qsmp tallulah #qsmp philza #death family #qsmp chayanne #qsmp eggs #analisys #deathduo #qsmp deathduo #qsmp angst #ANGST #chayanne and tallulah #qsmp death family

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captain-mj · 2 years ago

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*chants ominously* backrooms, backrooms, backrooms, backroom, backroOMS, BACKROOMS, BACKROOMS, BACKROOMS

I’m loving this energy, i got you. Previous part

Ghost heard the thing speaking. He shot it down. Riddled its corpse in fucking holes.

Ghost kept his balaclava on, but he had his plastic hardcover attached to his hip. His gun stayed in front of him every single moment.

He had paid attention. He understood. There were monsters here. Things that didn't make sense. That defied all logic.

But that was fine. Because he knew what they were.

It cooed at him. Mockingly. "Johnny." It repeated at him and he shot more holes into it.

So they were there. Fucking hell.

It laid there, looking like a very convincing version of woman. She had dark hair and pretty blue eyes that looked at Soap’s.

He smashed his radio the moment Johnny started to talk to him again. If Soap was real, if this was the real Soap, if Soap ever existed in the first place, Ghost hoped to God the universe would be more merciful to him than it had been to Soap.

This place dilated time. Ghost had been wrong. His hair had started to grow at some point. Maybe it was on purpose. It felt like it had been done on purpose. He had to cut it with the knife, making it spike around his face.

Still hadn't slept. Couldn't. There was no sleep here.

But it had to have been months. For once, he was glad he didn't grow too much facial hair.

Ghost felt frantic.

“Ghost!” Soap called and Ghost fled from him immediately. He didn’t want to get cornered in case it wasn’t Soap.

Ghost led him to a place where he’d have escape routes before finally pausing. The thing followed. He held the gun up and it stood there.

“Ghost, are you okay?”

Ghost continued to stare, watching every feature. It twitched.

“Ghost.” It echoed.

He filled it with bullets too. The blood stained the white tiles black.

Guessed right.

It stayed there. It looked like Soap. He hated that it looked like Soap.

He smashes its head in. The inside of its skull looked like it was full of cobwebs and goo. It splashed all over the tiles.

He just kept going. Until the body was nothing but a smear. There were no bones. Just an outer shell that fell apart.

Ghost left it where it was. He faintly heard something farther away and kept moving. His gun never ran out of bullets. It was something he had learned after starting to count them. Supplies felt both extremely limited and infinite. He had found… almond water.

When he had drank it, it ran out quickly. And he felt thirsty for days afterward. Fucking annoying.

Now he had started to collect it. The bottles all went in the pockets in gears. He continued to make head way around this area.

It was different. White tiles covered the floor and soft white walls that stretched everywhere. Water ran everywhere. It was pretty water, but he didn’t trust it enough to drink it. He heard them occasionally. But he didn’t trust them at all. Didn’t trust anything.

Soap found his mom on the ground. He knew it wasn’t his mom. Could tell by the fact that his mom had died when he was six and he was in what was basically hell.

She laid there, dark hair and eyes staring. Black blood pooled around her.

Soap felt sick. It took him a while to realize that the bullets used looked like the ones he had grabbed. Ghost had handled it.

They had been a room apart.

He got on the mic. “Where is everyone?”

Rodolfo answered. “Lost Gaz but Price is still in the yellow area. Floor one I think they called it. I escaped to a room full of water and white tiles.”

“I’m here too.”

“Thank God. Alejandro is… somewhere else. He said it looked like a museum. We’ll have to find him eventually.” Soap heard the worry in his voice.

“Understood. I think I’m close to Ghost. I… Watch out for voices. There’s something else in here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ghost alluded to it but I didn’t get what he meant until now. I’m looking at a body… That can’t be here.”

Rodolfo was quiet for a minute. “Price mentioned seeing someone in the dark. Someone he used to know. Shit. Alright I’ll try to get a hold of them. You’re closer to Ghost, so you keep looking for me. I’m in a safe position.”

Rodolfo was currently perched on a high up place, watching the still water below. He tried to convince himself the shapes in the water was his imagination and not something real.

Soap nodded. “Understood. I’ll keep my headset on, so if you need me.” He turned off his mic and started following where he thought Ghost would be.

Sure enough, another body on the ground. This one had something that looked suspiciously like tactical gear. It was mushy though, so he kept walking. Better to not stare into that too long. Better to not think of who that was supposed to be.

Someone started to hum. It sounded like Ghost. Bare bones it sounded like Ghost. But he really didn’t think Ghost would be humming a child’s song here.

The sound echoed around the tiled halls. It reminded him of when he went to the pool as a kid. There was one by his house as a part of a rec center. The locker room in it had the same tiles. The water reminded him of it too.

After watching it dry off his clothes immediately though, he decided it would be best not to drink it.

Soap listened for anything besides the sound of the water. Ghost never made much noise though so he wasn’t too concerned about that. He just wished the motherfucker would help him out.

“Simon!”

“Johnny?” There he was. Soap rounded the corner and there he was.

“Simon.” Soap relaxed and immediately moved closer. “Everyone is split up but we should be finding them soon.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes. Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Gaz. Unfortunately Gaz is offline but we’ll find him.” Soap looked up at him, not sure what to do. He had his mask on, the white plastic staring back at him. His eyes looked just like normal.

“You were right. About how being alone… Got to me. I think I’ve been here a very long time.” His voice sounded so weak and gravelly.

“We’ll find a way to get out of here okay?” Soap reassured.

Ghost looked at him. His eyes.

Ghost had heterochromia. Brown eyes with a strip of blue through one of them.

Soap stared at those eyes. They looked exactly how he remembered.

#johnny soap mactavish #john price #captain john price #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #backrooms cod

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all-l-wanna-do · 11 months ago

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hiii i dont know how to start this and im extremely awkward so im just gonna talk llama also im watching secret life hope im watching the right thing uhgtyguh

OHOH GRIAN!!

the secret keeper sounds ominous

one free punch 😭

OMG THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS CYP THATS LIKE ONE OF MY FAVORITE BIOMES GYUYFTIUJHI DO YOU LIKE DEM????

THE PUMPKIN SISTERS OMG I LOVE THAT

hbgyuijhb jumping off like a Huge mountain into a water source is soooo much fun llama

the pink wood is so prettyyyy 😭

i hate creepers <3

what do you think abt the drip stone stuff?? i love using it to collect lava

AAAAAA OMG SHE ALMOST FELL INTO THE BIG CAVE YIKES thats how i almost died in my hardcore world lollll

THEY FOUND DIAMONDS LETS GOOOOO

THE SCOTT OF IT ALL

uhygfugih SHE JUST FELL OUCH GEMS POOR ANKLES

caves scare me sm

GEM AND THE SCOTTS jihugyihjHUIHYI THIS BAND IS FALLING APART

i know collecting obsidian takes forver and a lot of ppl hate it but i love it sm like its so fun

they should build a pink pirate boat

iuhgvyftygh the putting torches everywhere is so real

im loving this plank

if all your friends jumped of a mountain would you? yes.

goat in a boat. goat in a boat. theres a goat in the boat

OMG THE HOUSES ARE SO CUTE AND PINK I LOVE LOVE LOOOVE

LLAMA HIS CHALLENGE WAS JUST STALKING GEM

IM COTTAGEING

llama she needs to put water down around her house before she dies jhhuijkhbjb

huygtf his house is like IN hers 😭

im always growing coco beans for absolutely no reason

OMG I LOVE FISHING CYP DO U LIKE FISHING

the pretty scott and the smart scott im sobbingggg

THEY SHOULD MAKE LIKE A BEE SANCTUARY BC THATD BE(E) CUTE

i think the plan is that im just gonna send u whatever this is every time i watch one of the videos if you dont hate it??

jhbuvgtfygihkj okay so i love this smmm and now i want to play minecraft also sorry i didnt think i was gonna talk sm lol

I LOVED READING THIS

also i absolutely love cherry blossoms, dripstone is a fun bloxk to texture witu (i mostly build i sont do a lot of survival) and fishing is fun!

i love this and im so excited to see next asks!!

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interviewwithademon · 1 year ago

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Loss, and Everything that Comes with: A Short Vignette

TMC squad, how're we doing tonight

I am doing Not Well and neither is Adam so I wrote a lil poem in the second person, please enjoy

Loss follows you everywhere you go.

Your life is a series of dances, stumbling around the unavoidable chasm in your heart that tells you everyone you love will leave, a gaping maw of fear that only grows with each passing day.

You’re a child when it begins- when long arms gather you to a cold, unmoving chest in the dead of night, Mama’s scream echoing off tile as you’re whisked away from your entire world.

You come back wrong, different; the world feels muted where it once was vibrant, and Mama is no longer there to coax the warmth from the hearth so the house grows frost. Dad rarely talks on the days he bothers to be home; you learn quickly how to tie your own shoes and sign your own report cards, and then one day he vanishes too.

You’re sixteen years old and an orphan, abandoned to an overloaded system that struggles to stay afloat so when you slip away at midnight there is no one left to chase after you, no one to care what happens to the sad boy with the big blue eyes. You stumble back home, managing to find your way up stairs that threaten to cave in and curl up in the spot that Mama’s bed once rested.

You make friends classmates who look at you with the same concern that the foster families once did, eyes a mix of worry and pity that makes your stomach churn uncomfortably so you drift away from them too. It’s for their own good, you tell yourself as the shadows of everyone you’ve driven off merge into one ominously looming figure in your mind. I’m cursed.

Maybe it’s true: one sticks around, determined to make you smile, forever ready with a joke and a kind gaze that doesn’t pity you but sees you instead; you tell him about your club and he matches your passion with a zest of his own, and when he pulls out a camcorder to document your adventures you can’t help but give him the grin he works ceaselessly to achieve.

You feel like a moth to flame; like his easy camaraderie has chipped away at the ice block surrounding your core, hope returning like pins and needles to a sleeping limb. For once, you think of a brighter future: one of maturity, of taking the job at the local videography store and falling into rhythm that slowly echoes your own heartbeat.

You’re wrong, of course, you always are; permanence and you mix like oil and water, your heavy weight of guilt dragging you into the murky depths as your friend looks down in disappointment. He pleads with his eyes for you to swim but you never learned how so instead you sink, plummeting deeper and deeper until the waves feel foreign yet familiar, a flickering screen replaying memories you wished had remained buried.

As quickly as he’d come, he’s gone once more. Where you’d once had a shield of frost to protect your delicate heart there instead exists only the wound, exposed and raw to all the guilt that hits you (it’s not the same, you refuse to let yourself feel victimized; how much emotional pain could equate to the wreckage of His car, His life, Your Friend-). You sink to your knees in the kitchen, the same coating of rime that’s mirrored in the shell you once called a heart.

You’re alone once more, or maybe you always were; the reflection in the tile isn’t one you recognize anymore, skin sagging in a horrifically inhumane way and even you have left you behind; your identity has slipped away like the hoodie that lays discarded on the floor, across from an obituary for a short boy with warm eyes that forever haunt you when you close your own.

It sits in its own misery, staring at the picture of its dead best friend for an indeterminable amount of time; there’s no one left to chase after it anymore, after all, and it’s lost inside the slowly spiraling mind of a monster.

#I have a lot of thoughts if you can't tell #Adam is so scrunkly please let him have One Good Day(TM)#the mandela catalogue #tmc adam #Adam murray #tmc alternate #I'm going to fight Jude Murray myself in an Arby's parking lot #writing #one shot #poem? idk

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marshmeowllows · 1 year ago

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I wanna talk about this visual novel. It's not new-in fact it was released in October 2021 and won that year's Spooktober VN Jam.

It's called Stillwater, by Studio Clump.

From the itch.io page:

"I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU"

Private Investigator Hugo Laurent was ready to busy himself with more paperwork until a young disturbed woman entered his office to request an investigation regarding her grandfather's safety. What danger awaits underneath the surface of this mystery?

(From picture left to right are Hugo Laurent, Colby, and Noah De Leon.)

What's the danger, and what mystery?

Well, the mystery turns out to concern the grandfather of this woman, Nina Mortimer. His name is Henry Mortimer, and despite being Nina's grandfather...

...He looks like this.

Yeah, it's been that way since a few nights ago. The Mortimers' caretaker also quit because she kept noticing random puddles of water everywhere in the house, stopping in front of Henry's room.

Anyway, Henry received a letter from someone named Louis-someone Nina doesn't recognize. She shows the letter to Hugo, who notices an ominous message on it: "I AM COMING FOR YOU HENRY".

Later while investigating at the estate, Hugo checks the letter again. It looks different-no more creepy message.

This is the locket Louis was talking about. Looks like Henry did keep it.

After finding the locket, Hugo can choose to take it or leave it. Water appears, followed by an ominous figure that tells him "don't get in my way"-then the door jams shut. Hugo has to leave via the window.

Outside, Henry is heading towards the lake, as Nina tries to stop him. Hugo goes after him in her stead. He first tries to appeal to Henry's love for his granddaughter, which works briefly before Henry resumes blaming himself for the death of Louis. Hugo then tries to tell him that Henry dying won't resolve anything for him or for Louis.

If Hugo didn't take the locket, he'll fail to save Henry and end up dying in the lake as well (mundane: drowned, supernatural: killed by the entity). If he took the locket, he can give it to the entity, which lets him and Henry go. Hugo ends up unconscious, meeting the ghost of Louis, who thanks him. Fortunately, Louis tells him he can't "rest" there, and he and Henry are saved by Noah.

Henry has now returned to what's he's supposed to look like in the present. He tells Hugo about how he never got to say goodbye to Louis, how he kept wishing if Louis stayed longer in the world with him. He thanks Hugo for doing so much for a stranger, and also tells him he hopes Hugo can also overcome whatever's troubling him.

Who's Louis?

My interpretation is that Louis was Henry's romantic partner from when he was younger. One day, Louis asked Henry to meet him by the lake, but Henry didn't show. Louis, who's described as "troubled" in the newspaper article about his death, ended up drowning himself. Henry felt guilty after he heard the news, but eventually moved on with his life and had a family.

What's going on with Henry?

Noah mentions that the Mortimers faced many deaths over the years, to the point people believed they were cursed. All these deaths likely took a toll on Henry, who's reminded of the death of someone he loved and who loved him, all those years ago. Over time it culminates-until Henry is returned to the age he was that fateful day, and he tries to drown himself in the lake on what's likely its anniversary.

What's with Henry's eyes and the ominous figure?

Henry's eyes were glowing green. If Hugo took the locket, a green entity will appear at the lake and drag Henry down with it.

I suspect that's part supernatural, part manifestation of Henry's feelings.

What's the thing Henry hopes Hugo can overcome?

In the good ending, Henry says he hopes that Hugo can overcome "it". What's "it"? His troubles with work, troubles with experiencing supernatural shit, troubles with Noah who he maybe wants to be more than coworkers with? I think Henry was speaking in general, but no matter which is it it looks like things are looking up.

#stillwater #stillwatervn #visual novel #mystery visual novel #horror visual novel #also the music and sound effects are great

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thenarddogmeister · 11 months ago

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The Rusted. Dir Kat Candler. 2015.

I’ll admit, the thing that drew me to this short film was Josh Hutcherson - he’s an amazing actor. However, I found The Rusted to be excellent and thoroughly effective in handling tones and constructing audience moods, helping to communicate what life is like living with trauma.

The main criticism people seem to have with the film is that it is too short. I totally understand this flaw as due to its interest in tone and building suspense the film would most likely benefit from adding extra time to its runtime, however I think The Rusted is still great despite its short film status because it gives us so much in such a little time, even within single shots.

The first shot is a dog barking in slow motion. A water pipe leaks next to the animal and we hear an ominous, orchestral score. This sets the tone of the film immediately. The slow motion and aggressive barking of the dog creates an anxious atmosphere as the barking implies there is some sort of perceivable danger and the slow motion only makes this moment more significant. The leakage is a recurring motif throughout the film and I believe it is used as a metaphor to demonstrate what life is like with trauma. Its effects trickle into your life and eventually (when left untreated) the dam bursts and the flood gates open. That’ll be when we get our main conflict.

It then cuts abruptly to the protagonist of the film, played by Josh Hutcherson. Loud, metal music accompanies this shot and we are introduced to him in a claustrophobic close up as he vigorously works in the garage. In my opinion this is a great character introduction. Due to this intense and frenzied tone being created, we can imply that his emotions are harsh due to the loud, chaotic music and his harsh movement, which paired with the close camera distance, creates claustrophobia and alludes to the suffocating effects that his trauma has on him. Moreover, after watching this film, the music and frantic movement could allude to the protagonist’s attempt at avoiding facing his trauma by agitatedly putting his effort into his work - re-designing the house.

Later, we see a shot of the pool water at nighttime. The dark, cold looking setting begins to introduce the thriller elements of the film and the water reinforces this visual motif as a metaphor for trauma. The protagonist and his sister talk by the pool about a horrible experience he had with their abusive mother, when she smashed his head into the bathtub (connoting water, furthering the motif) and knocked his teeth out. We see their side profiles as they talk, putting us in the subjective perspective of these characters as by sitting next to each other, that’s what they see when they turn their head. By using this subjective perspective, ominous thriller-esque aesthetic and impressively natural performances from Hutcherson and Malone, we are aligned with these siblings and feel the fear and history that surrounds this house. Moreover, their conversation is followed by a sinister shot of the house door as the camera slowly pushes in and a scary high-pitched noise rings out. This feels straight out of a thriller and contributes to the unsettling feeling of the house, and more figuratively, the unsettling feeling of living with trauma.

About half way into the film we get the main conflict. The pipes under the sink begin to leak everywhere and the film cuts between the barking dog, the murky leakage and the siblings to create an overwhelming and stressful atmosphere. Juxtaposing the sunny, warm colours when we were first introduced to them, the visuals are now dark and cold, more blue than orange - adding to the ominous and suspenseful tone. The brother and sister start arguing as they disagree about the healthiness of spending time in their haunted childhood home. We get close ups of both characters as Max (Hutcherson) reveals the big blow to Karen when he shouts “and you left me here with her.” It is finally confirmed that Max feels betrayed by his sister’s move to college as he has to live with their abusive mother alone. Both Josh Hutcherson and Jena Malone’s performances (I thought) were absolutely outstanding in this scene. They deliver such hard-hitting and intense lines of dialogue in such a realistic way, even without all the choices surrounding cinematography, editing etc, I think their performances alone would’ve still made me emotional.

I could absolutely talk about a million more things in this film and I still have the other half to analyse but I’ve written more than I intended to and want to keep it digestible. Maybe I’ll make a YouTube video about it because I really like this short film and I think it’s a great film that allows you to feel what trauma is like for some people.

#film #cinema #film review #movies #josh hutcherson #jena malone #short film

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waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years ago

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A Clash of Kings - 10 DAVOS I (pages 132-148)

Davos watches gods burn on the beach, then has an ale and gets a lore drop from Salladhor Saan before Stannis calls Davos to show off his attempt at a (100% true) smear campaign.

"Lord of Light, we offer you these false gods, these seven who are one, and him the enemy. Take them and cast your light upon us, for the night is dark and full of terrors." ... "For the night is dark and full of terrors,"Selyse and her queen's men replied. Should I speak the words as well? Davos wondered. Do I owe Stannis that much? Is this fiery god truly his own?

TNiDaFoT = 🥛🥛

... There's a heat wave here okay? I need all the hydration I can get. Water is just so quenchy. The quenchiest.

The burning gods cast a pretty light, wreathed in their robes of shifting flames, red and orange and yellow. Septon Barre had once told Davos how they'd been carved from the masts of the ships that had carried the first Targaryens from Valyria. Over the centuries they'd been painted and repainted, gilded, silvered, jeweled.

Why does this feel like some kind of ominous hint towards Dany and the followers of R'hllor? (And not in a "you like fire, I like fire, did we just become best friends?" kind of way. Even though there's the theory she's Azor Ahai, "beloved of R'hllor")

The Maiden lay athwart the Warrior, her arms widespread as if to embrace him. The Mother seemed almost to shudder as the flames came licking up her face. A longsword had been thrust through her heart, and its leather grip was alive with flame. The Father was on the bottom, the first to fall. Davos watched the hand of the Stranger writhe and curl as the fingers blackened and fell away one by one, reduced to so much glowing charcoal.

*Knowing Ned died first, Catelyn's fate, and that Jon's hand was burned pretty badly, combined with remembering once seeing a video essay on the Stark fam representing the Seven in some capacity:* I'm sure it's fiiiine. Not at all foreshadowing. *laughs nervously*

"Under the sea, smoke rises in bubbles, and flames burn green and blue and black," Patchface sang somewhere.

Still kinda sounds like an underwater volcanic region...

"As to that father," Dale said, "I mislike these water casks they've given me for Wraith. Green pine. The water will spoil on a voyage of any length." "I got the same for Lady Marya," said Allard. "The queen's men have laid claim to all the seasoned wood."

You'd think folks living on an island, would take better care of their sailors, but no. Classist snobs everywhere.

"Pirate," said Davos. "You have no wives, only concubines, and you have been well paid for every day and every ship." "Only in promises," said Salladhor Saan mournfully. "Good ser, it is gold I crave, not words on papers." He popped a grape into his mouth. "You'll have your gold when we take the treasury in King's Landing. No man in the Seven Kingdom's is more honorable than Stannis Baratheon. He will keep his word."

... so who wants to tell them about the 6 million gold debt the Crown (Littlefinger and Bobby B) accrued?

Also: it's not quite how i pronounce the name, but as I was reading, I just called Salladhor Saan 'Salad Whore' by accident.

... all this talk of Azor Ahai has given me the crackspiracies. At first I was like Burning blade + sword of light > Obi-wan Kenobi's lightsaber > Obi is Azor Ah... waaaait. AA killed his wife for power OH MY GOSH > Anakin Skywalker is Azor Ahai Confirmed!

🔍I've solved it, everyone else go home. (Joking)

When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.

Davos is just, such a good bloke. Good Husband, good father, good friend. At this point, I think he's got the best chance for Westeros' Best Father Ever award.

"- It seemed to me as I watched the fire this morning that I was looking at a dozen beautiful dancers, maidens garbed in yellow silk spinning and swirling before a great king. -"

*thinking of the tv show* Gasp! The Sandsnakes? That'd be a fun twist, it was a real vision, but an assassination and not a homage, or just not Stannis.

"When I was a lad I found an injured goshawk an nursed her back to health. Proudwing, I named her. (...) Time and again I would take her hawking, but she never flew higher than the treetops. -"

Awww, Proudwing has separation anxiety and a trauma induced fear of heights. Look at Stannis having a humanising moment... and then ruining it with his plotting.

#a clash of kings #a song of ice and fire #davos seaworth #a chapter a day reading #acok #asoiaf

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sycamorality · 4 months ago

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i wake up and i don't feel tired. it takes me a moment to realise i'm not home. but i've been here before. but this isn't the school. this is fuckall nowhere middle of a forest, and boy is it haunted.

the forest is pretty though. birch, oak and spruce trees everywhere, with fern-like bushes and normal bushes everywhere too. they all range from lush greens to vibrant yellows and oranges. the grass is a much brighter green than the trees and bushes, think like a bright-yellow green. there's rocks around in the grass, i think showing paths around everywhere. there's houses too - they're made of a slightly reddish brown wood with black brick roofs. some of them are flat and some of them are the regular triangle shape for a house. some have big windows and other's don't.

there's a few bright houses- one's yellow and one's red and the rest i don't recall. i think there's some black houses too. all that matters, i live in the yellow house. there's some round platforms made out of planks, and there's a weird hill formation that surrounds the area with the houses. the plank platforms are on the outside.

a quick rundown from what i can recall: there's spirits here, but i don't exactly know why. something about them dying here or, something, i don't know. but they definently are out to mess with people or get them to die, but not in super direct ways.

there's a timeskip and i'm in a field, the day is sunny as ever. there's a giant flag pole in the middle of it with no flag on it, and there's this weird creepy girl i recognise. we have a weird conversation, but i don't remember what it is. i think she says something vaguely ominous. i walk around and yep, shit's still haunted, there's definently spirits here. i can't see them but i feel uneasy. i wander around a bit and i know i run into some of the weird spirits, but i don't remember where or how.

next thing i remember i'm in the yellow brick house, trying to collect all my stuff and there's that weird creepy girl again. i can't recall if she's a spirit, she might be for all i know, but we have another weird conversation and i try to hurry up. there's some weird… inventory system? like as if i have a bag of holding. i see a spirit and it freaks me out.

next thing and i'm downstairs near the tv. a group of people are watching something and i don't wanna look at it. i think i'm trying to sleep, it's late in the evening, but them watching tv wakes me up. don't know why i'm trying to sleep down there. i cover my eyes to not see the tv because, shit's haunted, don't wanna look at it because it freaks me out, so i get up, still covering my eyes from the tv and go upstairs to finish packing my stuff.

there's a timeskip, and i'm walking across a field - it's sort of like a small valley - away from the houses, but not too far, just to a sort of cliff formation where i see a boy with his horse - a brown horse with black mane and a white spot on its nose - standing there, and as soon as he spots me he just.. jumps off.

but there's distinctly no sound of him falling down or dying, and his horse just stands there, behind the spruce tree right next to a rock, where the boy stood before. as i try to go back, there's suddenly a river between me and the regular area, and the day is so, so very gloomy and gray. i go through the river partly before everyone spots… cars approaching? we're all very freaked out because they're just driving through the water. we fear its some weird spirits, and i do some weird.. super jump? wing boosted jump? to get up to some trees and stand on branches. i should not be able to stand on those branches unless i'm a bird, they're thin as hell, but somehow they don't crack under my weight.

i continue getting closer to the main area and climbing up trees as the black and gray small van cars get closer, and i can feel the anxiety and dread. i'm fucking terrified as i do this, trying to get back.

on occasion i fall into the water and have to get back up and i don't like feeling wet. it's not pleasant. it's not like water. it feels just a bit too thick, by just a small amount, to be normal water and it's dark and no longer reflecting the clouds on the sky. i don't like it. it makes me feel uneasy. it almost feels like blood.

but i get near the main area and there's other people [keep in mind everyone here save for like 2 or 3 people are mid/late teens] climbing the trees too until the cars finally finish approaching, and it turns out they're driven by guys that went to get us from here.

we don't know why, but we all climb into the vans and everyone hurries there because we all want to get out, we don't trust this place and none of us like it. i distincly remember this one scene where i ask the guy in the car i'm driving - an old guy, slightly bald but he still has hair, wearing a white shirt and tie with denim jeans - why nobody can sit in the middle front seat, and then he lays down and moves the seat arounds to let him drive the car faster. well, that answered my question in the dream, but after waking up it seems... abstract.

we're all in the vans until somewhy in the middle of a street it just slowly transitions into all of us walking and all the drivers just vanish. i still don't know what happened, but nobody seems to comment on it. there's now a rather optimistic woman leading us. the street goes upwards and the houses here are sort of apartment-like, but they're all their own separate house, with a small elevated grass field in front of their backdoors as like.. backyards or something. there's a playground but we have to keep going past it.

eventually we make it to a store, and i spot two gray, slightly scruffy winged cat plushies, one with feathered wings and one with bat wings made out of felt, both with an endearing *-* face i really want, and everyone else also finds something they want, and as the woman goes to pay she realises she doesn't have her credit card on her, but the cashier just says we can have them for free and takes off the trackers that would alert if the items were being stolen. she doesn't take mine off so i just tear them off.

we continue walking and suddenly my friend, spire [hit mutual @/sp1resong], collapses on the ground and i just... pick them up because i'm worried about them. again i realise something's weird - they don't weigh anything to me even though they definently should. i don't have the strength to carry my little brother, let alone someone my age [though sidenote, spire is a black fox with orange markings and white underbelly + paws].

i continue walking and i notice spire's awake and trying to hide it slightly, but we keep going because i don't mind carrying them. we end up near a forest and then i put them down, commenting on how i knew they were awake but didn't mind carrying them.

suddenly we end up in a space world sort of thing? where nintendo and some other studios are showing off their games. i remember being slightly disappointed i can't go to see it but, whatever. the carpet is like a normal arcade carpet, just with two colors - black backdrop and orange patterns. we continue going through here until we get to some sort of obstacle course..? built with squishy and extremely easily moveable foam blocks, with like a leather outer casing [dont know what its called], all with different colors.

i know i picked up a random yellow cube and commented on just how soft it was before we go through the .. thing [i think it was some weird castle] built with all the squishy foam blocks. some guy is trying to make it extremely hard to navigate by pushing all the blocks around, especially when going up stairs made of them, which made it extremely annoying, so i tell him to cut his shit out and we continue.

on the other side, finally out of this damn thing, i'm suddenly with my parents as we walk past like, a toys section. i immediately notice it and after noticing it i run up to it and look around it.

there's plushies and figurines here, and i specifically notice a jolteon plush and figurine, so i try to find my parents [at first a little scared because i lost them], and they come with me to look at them and my dad says to send them to him on discord so i do that, accidentally sending it to a friend instead at first and then sending it to my dad. apparently during all this i'd been having a convo with this friend..? there's something about the long walk on the strees and stuff. a minute or so after that i wake up.

dated 24th of april, 2024

#dreamlogs.txt #ask to tag #long post

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theghostpinesmusic · 1 year ago

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Sky Lakes Loop (3/3)

Yes, this was yet another day that I woke up next to a totally still, reflective lake. Sometimes it's cool to be me.

The Marguerette Lake campsite I'd inhabited for the night had a lot of those human-built "accessories" that always seem kind of dumb and unnecessary to me (you're hiking tens of miles into the wilderness, do you really need to build a chair out of rocks and wood for the night?), but as I was packing up camp I realized what such things are really good for: gear organization!

As I said at the end of my previous post, this third day of the loop was really straightforward: circle back around the shore of Trapper Lake, then head south along the Sky Lakes Trail that I'd taken north two days earlier, then continue east and south around the last lake basin and finally eat food out of my car and drive home.

I always like stopping at this spot at the south end of Upper Heavenly Lake, as by now you've fully descended back into the low-elevation foresty part of the wilderness but you can get one last view of the alpine area you passed through earlier in the hike view the distant view of Luther Mountain (you can see it in the photo left of center if you squint a bit).

Lower Heavenly Lake sports a somewhat more ominous viewpoint: the northernmost point of the Cold Springs burn zone, stopped right at the shore of the lake.

Taking the east path instead of the west path at this final intersection gave me a last few miles of "new" trail to hike before I finished. The eastern trail spends much more time in the burn zone, but on the upside there was an absolutely bonkers amount of fireweed through this section, and the open area gave some great views of Pelican Butte looming just to the south.

In the end, I finished the loop right around noon, and I can say from experience however nice it is to have a short drive to the trailhead to start your hike, it's immeasurably nicer to have a short drive home from the trailhead after your hike. Planning ahead and storing a bunch of junk food (including homemade donuts!) in your car for when you finish is highly recommended as well.

Because it's so close to home, every time I start this hike I think to myself that it would be a great "introductory" backpacking trip for local friends who have expressed interest in getting into backpacking but aren't necessarily up for a monster trip their first time out...but then I get home and realize how much distance and elevation this loop actually entails and...it's a lot. Over two-and-a-half days, I covered thirty-nine miles and did six thousand feet of climbing. That's a lot, and it felt like a lot.

That said, I wouldn't not recommend this loop. It's easy to drive to, it's not busy, there's no permit necessary, water access is plentiful except for a brief PCT section in the middle (through the burn zone, south of the Seven Lakes Basin) and there are plenty of places to camp, everywhere, assuming you don't put all your eggs in a Cliff-Lake-shaped basket, then go insane and try to hike until your legs fall off. Sky Lakes is really beautiful in its own way, and you should check it out if you get the chance.

#backpacking #hiking #photos #camping #traveling #southern oregon #alpine lakes #sky lakes wilderness #mountains

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isirumarin · 2 years ago

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Rumarin x Isira (LDB)

Ep.9 Secrets

Isira woke up first, again. She sat up and watched Rumarin sleep for a moment. She loved him so much, so quickly, it was...unsettling a bit but, she felt like she already knew him that day at the barrow. It was far more similar to rejoining with an old flame than an utter stranger. He was definitely following along. She hoped it was genuine and not the get-laid-and-see game some mer play. She felt embarrassed for a moment. Doubting her behavior- as always, her powerful instinctual intuition fighting against logic and common sense. She closed her eyes took a deep breath and meditated on her instincts. When she opened her eyes, he was looking up at her with his floral pink eyes and his stupid smirk. 'I'm right where I should be, and with whom.' She smiled at him and kissed him. She lay down over his chest. Her hair fell out of the braids and flowed over his skin like silver mist. Rumarin petted her head. She snuggled her face into his chest, savoring his pleasant scent. She rubbed her hand over his copper colored chest hair, soft and curly.

"So manly!" She teased. Rumarin chuckled. "That's the last thing I deserve to be called." He retorted. "Banana-ly is more like it."

"Oh no.." Isira said sadly. "There's a hair in my banana." They both laughed heartily together.

"I'll give you a new banana.." Rumarin growled, rolling on top of her. "I'll give you two melons in exchange for your fresh banana, sir." She said with an impish smirk. "It's a good day to trade." He replied before kissing her passionately. "Okay, we can go to the market..but I have to go soon, so we must be brief." She said breathlessly, throwing her head back as he kissed her neck.

---

Isira walked up the staired corridor into the Arcanaeum. Books and locked shelves were everywhere and the room had a unique smell. It smelled...ancient.

Urag gro-Shub greeted her in his usual gruff manner. "Archmage, I've unlocked the chest."

"I'm ready. Show me." She replied, taking a deep breath. Gro-Shub placed the rusted, ominous- looking black box on the counter and opened it for her.

She looked inside. An amulet was inside. It was made of a dark material. The pendant was a large, black, spherical teardrop. "How odd.." she muttered, picking it up by the chain. Small runic letters of an unknown script were etched into its dark material. "Thank you, Urag, I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

Urag nodded in acknowledgement. "I would be careful, Archmage. The runes appear to be the same script that was on the Eye of Magnus. And I haven't made any progress trying to decode them. I swear they change after I've studied them, and my notes don't fare any better. Its maddening and I think its dangerous. We know nothing about it..." He growled, his irritation apparent.

She hadn't told him where she got the box. Quaranir, the Altmer mage from the Psijic order that had guided her through the Magnus artifact crisis, had given it to her.

She remembered how he had appeared in her chamber while she was soaking in her hot bath:

A blue orb flashed and there he was, Quaranir the Psijic. "Greetings." Isira called out, not moving from her comfortable position.

"I don't have much time."

"You never do." Isira quipped coldly as she inspected her fingernails.

The Psijic pursed his lips. His green eyes narrowed and he walked towards her. Standing at the edge of the bath, he set a black and rusted box at the water's edge.

"Care to join me, Psijic?" Her voice just above a whisper. "Too few Altmer in this frozen place." She complained.

The Psijic eyed her with contempt before casting his robes aside and kicking off his leather boots. He stepped carefully into the warm waters. He sat next to her, his green eyes staring straight ahead.

She stared at the side of his face for a few seconds. He didn't flinch.

She hungrily mounted him. Their lovemaking was rushed and greedy but he was always on time and when he left she was always satisfied. The Psijic Way.

She looked at the amulet. How things had changed. Her flings with the Psijic were soulless and greedy. Not at all like Rumarin.

She put the strange amulet in her pouch. It would no doubt be an awkward visit next time Quaranir ported in. She needed to talk to Rumarin and tell him everything. His identity was also a shock. Surely the humor of fate.

#3dnpc #fanfic #interesting npcs #rumarin #rumarin 3dnpc #rumarin skyrim #isirumarin #x ldb #ldb #skyrim fanfiction #quaranir #psijic order #skipping school for some nookie #mannimarco and vanus

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manda-kat · 4 months ago

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Commissioner Vikram

The Zenthis Police Department has been fortified and transformed into a headquarters for civilians still living in the city. On the ground floor, a shelter has been constructed, offering food and beds to those rescued outside. In the basement, the police department works to form a plan of action against the Evergrowth.

The police force has been steadily dwindling as officers flee or are devoured by the plants. Now only a small handful remain under Commissioner Vikram’s command.

The duo of officers Brick and Ambros conspire together, as they usually do. Brick, a man with the body and mind of his namesake, wistfully sighs, “Do you miss Albus? I feel like things were more fun with him around."

“Well, the city wasn’t overrun by plant monsters last time he was here.” Ambros can’t help but feel nostalgia for the days not so long ago where they could chat over donuts on a slow day rather than cower and hide in the police station while things just get deadlier outside.

“You were more fun when he was here too.” Brick says, “Now you’re all mopey and you stare off into the distance like you’re waiting for your husband to come back from war.”

“Hey, I’m the husband at war here.” Ambros says, “Thank God my wife was visiting family when all this happened. Talk about missing people.”

“Has she contacted you at all?” Brick asks, slightly jealous.

“Not much. I lost my phone, so it’s a lot of hassle for either of us to call.” Ambros tries not to think about it too much, “She knows I’m busy and she isn’t the type to nag.”

“Or maybe she’s imaginary.” Brick suggests, “You always talk about your wife, but I never hear her name or see pictures. I’ve never even seen her texting you when I would eavesdrop over your shoulder.”

“When you what?”

“I bet you made her up so you don’t look like a loser.”

Ambros crosses his arms, “Do you really think I’m so desperate I’d invent a fake wife?”

“You would! I know you!”

“NOT WELL ENOUGH!"

Commissioner Vikram clears his throat and the two quiet down. The commissioner may be late in his career, but his posture and expression helps him appear intimidating. It also helps that Hantu, his right hand man, is floating ominously behind him.

“I hope everybody is enjoying their water cooler conversations while the city is being torn apart. Is there any gossip or funny stories that I should hear?”

Everyone is silent. Hantu floats around the room, dropping the temperature everywhere he goes. Non-humans aren’t often given government work, but Hantu is Vikram’s favorite muscle. The giant, blobby ghost creature shows little emotion or thought as it mindlessly carries out Vikram’s will. Hantu is his enforcer, his lapdog and possibly his dearest companion. Everyone in the police department fears Hantu.

Once the room has been sufficiently cowed, Vikram begins outlining his plans for a mission to search for and destroy the Everseed. The officers crowd around, eager to finish this once and for all.

Brick stands close to Ambros in the back of the room, glaring at Hantu, “That thing doesn’t blink. Nasty.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat or drink either.” Ambros whispers back.

“If any of us should have been fired for this, it should have been the non-human, dragging otherworld spores in on its feet.”

“... Hantu doesn’t have feet.” Ambros also wishes Hantu would go away, but him being non-human is hardly part of his reasoning. He just thinks Hantu is a creep.

“Well, he needs to find some so he can walk on out of here.”

Vikram looks directly at the two of them, “Brick. Ambros. Do you two have any valuable input at this time?”

“No Sir!” Both officers flinch in unison.

“Then shut up and listen!”

Hantu stares at the two, sending chills up their spines as Vikram continues his explanation, “We know the seed is close to the city center, but its exact location is hard to pin down. The closer you get, the more dangerous the Evergrowth becomes, so we can estimate a vague direction based on where deaths and disappearances occur most often. Now we can’t just waltz in there and expect to kill the Everseed. Finding it while being attacked by the most deadly monsters in the city won’t be a simple feat. That’s why we need to make a quick detour on our way over."

Vikram slowly smiles, his eyes engulfed in shadow, “I know where to find some weed killer.”

Ok I'm sick and I keep fading out of brain working but I really like this plot so look at it while I conk out again:

The city of Zenthis has become a wasteland. It’s barely worth defending anymore. The Evergrowth consumes it, strangling each luxurious building and turning the once-marvelous city into a maze of dangerous plants and animals.

The Evergrowth may be an out-of-control plant system, but at the city’s core is the secret to stopping it. The Everseed sits in the city’s center. Destroying it will permanently kill every Evergrowth plant it spawned. With the entire city depending on this seed’s destruction, it has been unanimously decided that whoever destroys the Everseed and saves Zenthis will become its new ruler and defender.

Zenthis used to be one of the most influential cities in the world. If it can be saved and restored, the new ruler of the city will have limitless wealth and power at their disposal. The only thing that stands in their way is the literal urban jungle.

Everybody goes in to fight the plants and they all want to be the future leader of the city, so it's like a race with all these different groups. The city is super futuristic and luxurious, basically one of those cities that's practically just a giant theme park- so the settings are super cool. But now I'm losing my brain again so I'll be baaack

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tpwkxxangel · 3 years ago

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Sleepy Baby

A/N: hi! this lowkey accidentally happened to me when i was sick and forgot i took two Benadryl previously and took two more not even two hours later. sooooo this is the product of that

Summary: Harry is a big name mafia leader but he has the softest spot for you. You're his favorite girl. So, when he gets home from a business meeting to find you unresponsive, he goes crazy....

the one where Y/N takes a sleeping pill to get to sleep on the night Harry has a dangerous meeting and everything goes very very wrong.

word count: 2.7k

[warning: pills/drugs, language, violence, angst, anxiety, guns, mentions of death]

*note: if you feel like you will find this in any way triggering, please do not read. your mental health is more important then this fic*

Tired. Endlessly tired.

That’s been your life for the past few weeks. Harry has been in his study and going in meetings more lately. If he had a normal job, this wouldn’t bother you nearly as much, but he is one of the most notorious mafia leaders in London, so it’s a...little different.

Every time he steps out of the house, he is in danger, and that plays on your biggest worries. What if something happened to him at these meetings? What if he didn’t make it home to you?

That fear and worry is what lead you to do exactly what you did that morning.

The only time Harry has left his office is for his morning runs. That’s when you decided to take your chance. Your heart was racing in your chest as you crept towards his desk.

It wasn’t that Harry was secretive with his work. He just preferred to keep you away from everything. You tried to get him to talk to you when he was stressed about things, but he doesn’t want you involved with anything.

When you made it to his desk, he had scattered papers everywhere. Without touching anything you looked across the piles and found a sheet of paper with names, contacts, and duties. Exactly what you were looking for.

That was last week. You got what you needed and tonight, with Harry gone, your anxiety is skyrocketing. There is something he hasn’t been telling you and in his line of work...that’s utterly frightening.

“Ugh,” you throw your head to look up at the ceiling as if it would have answers. The bottle in your hang feels heavy and foreign, but it seems like the only way you will get some much needed rest now that Harry left for his meetings.

The usual guards on the compound do not come in the house. They only serval the property for any potential threats, so you are completely along with your thoughts and the bottle of pills in your hands.

This is the only way. You tried everything you could think of. Every alternative has not worked, so the only option you have is to use pills that are meant to get you to sleep.

You did your research though. Temazepam.

That’s what you asked for. You would usually need a prescription for that kind of drug, but having a mafia leader as a boyfriend had its perks...even if he has no idea you got a hold of them. The drug is highly addicting but you would only use it when your anxiety gets too bad when Harry leaves, like tonight.

The pill isn't that large. It's an ominous white color, and your only way to get some sleep tonight. You take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. Harry left about three hours ago and won't be home for at least another four. When you fill the glass, you throw the pill back and swallow. A shiver runs down your spine at the feel of it going down your throat.

Rolling your shoulders back, you decide to get a midnight snack before heading to bed where you will finally fall asleep tonight. After looking at the pantry for a few minutes, you spot your favorite pretzels on the top shelve. You carefully climb up the step stool that Harry bought for you and grab the bag. When you get down, you misjudge the distance and twist your foot in an odd angle

Some pretzels fly out of the bag and land on the floor. You groan in slight pain, but not enough to feel like it's broken. Without stepping on the pretzels, you carefully make your way to the refrigerator to grab the cream cheese. When you open the door, you feel a sudden wave of dizziness.

Has it been an hour already?

A quick glance to the clock tells you it has only been fifteen minutes since you took the pill, but a black fog is luring you into droopiness.

Your throat starts to feel tight and breathing becomes one of the hardest things. Since when did you have to focus on standing upright so much?

You drop the cream cheese and pretzel bag, making an even bigger mess than before but your only focus is making it to your room to sleep on your bed.

One foot after the other is your focus. You barely register your hand clutching to the wall for balance, or the way the pictures fall and shatter on the floor.

Everything starts to get blurry quickly. This isn't how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to be peaceful and now you are stumbling through the house trying not to succumb to that pull in your mind to just give in.

The darkness in the corner of your eyes starts to fade more into view. You can see your bedroom door pushing open but it seems almost out of body at this point. All you have to do is get into the bed.

Right as you reach the bed, you smile. The world finally stopped spinning for a brief moment...only for it to go black a second later.

~~~

Harry has had one hell of a night. The past few weeks have been more stressful than usually because he found out some lower level member has been messing with his packages. Something seems to be going on, but the harder he looks, the less he sees. It's entirely frustrating.

All he wants to do is cuddle with you and watch your favorite movies. You are his biggest weak spot and that's the reason he works so hard to keep you out of everything. He doesn't want you hurt in any way.

When Harry, Niall and Liam all pull up to the gate leading to the house, they greet the night guard and receive the nightly report.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Y/N went to the mall to get a new sweater and then to their favorite takeout for dinner.

Harry can't wait to get back inside to give you a quick cuddle before he gets back to work.

"I think Tony is onto something," Liam says as they walk up to the door.

"I was thinking the same. He said Jones was receiving way too many calls lately for this to be a coincidence. Honestly--" he stops mid-sentence.

Harry looks up at the two men who seem frozen in the doorway. Suddenly a chill ran up his spine at the sight of his two best men frozen with a look of alert on their faces. He quickly pushes past them to see, and he nearly drops to his knees at the mess of the place.

There is shattered glass everywhere in the hall. The refrigerator door hangs open, shining light on the food spilt everywhere. It looks as if a struggle took place in his kitchen.

All three men draw their guns, ready for anything they might encounter. Well, not anything. The past few months you and Harry have been together, all the men in his inner circle completely fell under your spell. Everyone you met, including Harry, has grown to adore you in such a way that they would do anything to make you happy. It's been such a nice change since it was not like that before you met Harry.

They all step forward throughout the house checking everywhere for any sign of danger. When Harry gets to your bedroom, he takes a deep breath before slowly opening the cracked door.

Harry has seen some of the most gruesome things a person could think of, things that cause grown men to develop nightmares, but seeing you laying unmoving on the floor with haunt him for the rest of his days.

He quickly holsters his gun and runs to your side.

"Y/N?" he carefully shakes your body, taking in any physical harm.

When you don't respond to him, his stomach drops. This is his worse nightmare. You where hurt when he wasn't here. Before he can work himself up much more he hears Niall and Liam walking into the room.

"Boss?" Niall quietly asks, knowing how close to seeing red Harry is.

Harry looks their way, a storm brewing in his green eyes. They zone in on the item Liam his holding out to him. It's familiar. The orange bottles are standard. The bottle looks exactly like a normal medical grade one, but that was exactly what it was supposed to look like. It was the lid that he was looking at. The classic white lid held his symbol on it. These were his pills.

He quickly stands up to grab the bottle looking to see what it was. Liam seemed to beat him to it.

"It's Temazepam, H," he grunts out, "But there's something weird about the pill. It's not the same as the ones we get in the shipment."

Thoughts rush through Harry's brain a mile, a minute. Pieces of the missing puzzle seem to fall into place. He looks at his two men and they already know what he was going to say. They nod and leave the room to make some calls.

He turns to you, still peacefully out on the floor. His honey baby...

"Oh, Y/N," he sighs, picking you up and placing you on the bed, "What did you get yourself into?"

Niall and Liam will track down the seller and Harry will deal with the traitor in the morning.

Harry kisses your head softly and pulls the covers over the both of you. Yes, he is extremely pissed right now, but he wants to be there for you now even in your state.

~~~

A rhythmic tapping is the first thing you start to notice. A tapping that seems to intensify when you focus more on coming out of that peaceful fog.

"Ugh," your throat too dry for you to do much more than groan.

Every muscle in your body seems to protest when you attempt to move and you instantly regret everything from the night before. There are other ways fall asleep than taking those evil pills. Nothing is worth this feeling.

"You're awake," a deep voice startles you from the corner of the room. You squeeze your eyes shut in pain after you whipped your head in that direction.

You slowly open you eyes again to see your Harry...no. Not your Harry. Your Harry smiles with his dimples in the morning and kisses your nose. Your Harry has a carefree air around him and brightens up every room he is in.

This version of the man you love is the mafia leader. The Harry Styles, cutthroat leader who doesn't take any shit from anyone. He is holding the bottle you bought last week and you know there is no way to take yourself out of this. You gulp down your nerves before sitting up. Every muscle is screaming at you to lay back down, but you know he won't take you seriously if you are vertical like that.

Over the time in your relationship, you have only fought with Harry once. He was being an asshole, as usual, and you yelled at him then made him sleep in the guest room. He seemed fine with it at the time, still trying to keep his pride, but came whining like a little puppy at 2am begging you to forgive him.

This was not going to be like last time.

You sigh before opening your mouth, your voice comes out croaky from the dryness, "H, I know you're mad--"

"Mad?" he interrupts in a chilling voice, "Mad is when you don't text me when you make it home from a shopping trip right away. Mad is when you don't understand how important you are to me." He uncrosses his legs to lean forward with his connected hands on his knees. "This is furious."

You flinch back at the word. He did not yell. That wasn't his style. You meet his eyes trying to convey how sorry you are.

He carefully gets up and goes to the table in the corner of your room to grab a glass waiting there. "I thought you were smart, Y/N?" he grabs the pitcher of water harshly before pouring the glass, "Honestly, this has to be the stupidest thing you have ever done! And the worst part is, you could have died! How do you think I’d feel if I lost the love of my life?" His words came out strangled as his emotions started to come out.

“That’s rich coming from someone who literally leads a gang and sells cocaine for funzies,” you huff out, grabing the water glass and chugging it down.

“What did you just say?” Harry meets your eyes in a fury.

“I said,” you square your shoulders “You’re one to talk.” A single tear falls down your cheeks. Everything from the past few months seems to pile up and is just ready to break out of the cage you placed it in.

“Baby,” Harry sighs, some of his fury leaving him. His features seem to soften as you try to hold the tears in your eyes back.

“Maybe if I knew what was going on half the time, I wouldn’t worry as much but you keep me in the dark Harry!” your voice raises with the emotion coming from it, “You have been working nonstop the last few weeks and leaving at all hours of the night. You know I have trouble sleeping when you’re gone,” you sit back on the bed and finally let everything you’ve been holding in, out, “H, I’m so scared that one day when you leave, you won’t come back to me.”

You feel the bed dip to your right, and then his strong arms are around you, stroking your hair.

“I didn’t realize you felt this way,” he kisses your hair, pulling you close.

You sigh and lean into his hold, “I should have told you sooner. It’s just...I have trouble with sleeping when you aren’t here. I tried everything. This was just my last option.” Harry isn’t sure what to say right now, so you continue on. “I watch you leave every night and only hope you come home in the morning. Harry this is exhausting and the worst part of all of this is that I feel left out of a big part of your life. I get that what you do is dangerous, but you don’t tell me anything! I know something has been going on the past few weeks and you won’t let me in! What am I supposed to do?”

It’s quiet for a moment. You stood up in the middle of your speech to start pacing. All the thoughts in your head are scattering around and you aren’t even sure you made sense.

“Y/N, baby,” he meets you where you are and his thumbs catching a few stray tears, “I just want you to be safe,” he brings you tight to his chest, kissing your forehead.

“I want that for you too,” you whisper, afraid that anything louder will cause another meltdown. You hear him sigh before pulling back to look at you again. His face is unreadable for a moment before he closes his eyes in resolution.

“Is what you said true?” Harry asks. He continues when he sees your eyebrows drawn together, “Do you really feel left out of my life when I’m trying to keep you safe from that side of me?”

You pause to really think about it for a moment. It’s not that you feel left out, or that you even want to be a part of the mafia, but you want to be with Harry in every way possible. You want to be someone who he leans on for everything... including this.

“Yes,” you nod confidently, “You aren’t as scary and mysterious as you think you are Styles,” you laugh cheekily.

A wicked smile graces his lips. You never missed a meeting after that.

#Harry Styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #mafia!harry #harry styles imagine #mafia!harrystyles #gang!harry

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