#how does one apologise to their Lt for this? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

Text

Lost & Found

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!

Author’s note: i know i already said we were going at a slower pace, but, i really meant it - ive got too much other things going and i apologise! part four might take EVEN LONGER ive got a busy month coming up, so we'll see how it goes! thanks for being patient with me <333

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Your breath hitched as your fingers twitched with need of a self-destruct button when you saw him.

Swimming shorts, black. The ones you’d had in your hands two days before. Linen shirt, short sleeves, beige – unbuttoned. It was one of the things you’d tried on. Your friend had said it looked like a pyjama top on you. You were glad to learn it did not look like a pyjama top on him.

Sunglasses. Black, dark, and designer if you were to go by the large metallic logos on the sides.

Hair sort of all over the place, like he hadn’t touched it after rolling out of bed this morning. Book in hand, paperback, folded corners and broken spine.

If you were honest, it was kind of a vibe. Until you panned down, and...

Loafers.

You hoped that the glare of the sun didn’t turn your sunglasses transparent enough for Joe to notice you weren’t looking at your phone screen when you saw him step out and enter the pool area.

He walked past a couple of sun loungers that had towels on but seemed otherwise fairly abandoned. The pool was empty, the water too cold to casually dip into, so the towels probably belonged to people who dumped them there before breakfast, just to ensure they’d have a space of their own in the sun later.

Well, it was later now, and had there been no empty sun loungers free of towels, you’d have tossed a random one to claim as your own. Like the one right next to you. Just a big white towel from the hotel on an empty sun lounger that seemingly belonged to no one.

You saw Joe get closer and closer until you realised that he seemed to be coming right over to you.

Maybe he’d seen you and was now just there to come and tell you that he needed his jacket back. The one he gave you last night. The one you were meant to return to room 907. The one you still had up in room 1103.

Listen, it had gotten late. And you’d gotten too tipsy.

You also weren’t sure if you’d remembered 907 correctly, and, what if he was asleep already, you know? You decided after having your 6th drink poured into a plastic cup that you’d bring Joe his jacket tomorrow.

Maybe just after breakfast.

But then, you’d slept right through breakfast, hadn’t you?

You’d woken up two hours after falling asleep, and hadn’t been able to slide back into slumber until after you’d watched the sunrise from your balcony through blinking bleary eyes.

You’d only gotten a very quick gulp of water into your system after brushing your teeth, and now here you were, by the pool, living your best holiday-instagram-filtered-story life.

When Joe walked into earshot, you were ready to launch an excuse at him for not having returned his jacket yet.

But then he bent and sat down on the sun lounger next to you and you realized; that was his towel. One he'd probably laid down just before breakfast to ensure himself a lounger for when he'd want to enjoy some time by the pool side later.

Later was now, apparently.

Joe sat and took off his loafers as he looked over at the pool where the sun made the surface glitter, and then you saw him turn his head to look at you, giving you a polite smile.

“I was going to bring it over last night,” you blurted out as you sat up a little, “I promise, room 907, I didn’t forget. It was just, it got a bit late, and I didn’t want to maybe wake you– I’ll give it back today,” God, the nervosity practically dripped from the words you squeaked out.

Joe just smiled, which only made it worse.

“I... I’ll go get it right now, sorry,” you swung your legs to the side but stopped when you heard Joe laugh.

“That’s okay, no worries,” he quickly said, stopping your feet from finding your flip flops.

“I wasn’t going to keep it,” you reassured.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Okay, good.

“None of my other things have gone missing, so you’re fine,” Joe scrunched his nose and made a face before he got comfy with his book in his lap.

You thought back to that first night with his suitcase. He was sort of right. You could’ve easily kept something - probably would have if you’d listened to your friend who kept telling you, “That looks great on you, fucking keep it,” over and over.

“About that...” you heard yourself say it before you could stop yourself.

“Can I, just, do you want my unsolicited opinion on something?”

Joe found the page in his book he’d left off on and used fingers to bend the spine a bit further. He didn’t really reply, which you took as an invitation to just drop what had been on your mind without holding back.

“Just, I don’t understand, you seem–” you thought your choice of words over just for a second. “You sort of seem like you know what you’re doing. Man on a business trip, expensive clothing, all tailored I’m guessing, and then there’s– I’m sorry, but why would you use two-in-one shampoo?”

Joe blinked at you a second.

“And not only use it, but bring it?!”

It took Joe a second to figure out how to react to your animated question. You seemed genuinely grossed out and properly confused.

Man on a business trip.

That tickled him.

“You um... you went through my toiletries?” Joe asked, eyes back in his book, hoping that maybe the question would get you to blush again like you’d blushed when you’d met at the airport the day before.

“I went through everything, and you fucking know it,” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself now. “Please tell me that bottle has been in your that bag since the nineties and you don’t actually use it still,”

Joe snorted, head bobbing a little.

“I mean,” he started, “It’s how long I’ve had the bag, so that’s not as implausible as you’d think,”

“Yea, it looks it, Joe” you jabbed, grinning, and that’s when Joe realised.

The fucking toiletries bag.

The one he’d had since he was eight.

The one his mother had written his name on with black sharpie so he wouldn’t lose it.

JOE

He could picture it clear as day.

You knew his name because you’d read it on his toiletries bag.

You didn’t know who he was.

His mother’s handwriting had revealed his name to you, and you didn’t fully understand the wistful little smile that overtook his face for a moment as he frowned at his book a little.

This new knowledge shifted something for him. He could dissect the relief of it all later, if he wanted to. Now, it just made him want to entertain this interaction further.

So he did.

Asked you if he was correct at having missed you at breakfast. Told you he wasn't actually on a business trip, but just there for a short break from the hustle and bustle of the city, of work.

You told him you were there for the same reason, and you swapped similar stories of busy jobs and hectic schedules, of tensed shoulders and worried supervisors who pressured you into trips to the sun, and now, here you were. By the poolside of a nice hotel where they served nice drinks and, would you like a drink? What did you have last night?

“Stop, if anyone needs to get anyone a drink here, it’s me. As a thank you for the jacket and not having me, you know, arrested.”

You got up, were about to wave your card in Joe’s face but found yourself plonking back down onto the lounger.

Weird.

You didn’t feel dizzy at all, but somehow your balance felt off. You went to test it by giving your head a little shake, and then suddenly, the world moved sideways. Gravity pulled at you from the side, making you lean there a little, and then, a lot.

There was lounger where you landed, shoulder first, but there wasn’t enough lounger. After bouncing once, you felt yourself slide.

It somehow felt fine, didn’t make you panic at all, your brain already making sense of it but in all the wrong ways. You didn’t feel so heavy, head all light, and so the thud to the floor wasn’t so bad. It was almost like you floated down there, but then, with your cheek pressed against the warm concrete, everything unexpectedly moved upwards with a rough jerk. Smacked you right in the face and the rest of your body sort of slumped down, hurting your cheekbone and what you thought was your brow bone as your full weight seemed shoved into them.

It hurt.

Not in the same way the cold water of the pool hurt the bones of your feet when you'd sat on the edge of it earlier – this felt worse. Cutting.

Your face was pushed into the ground by your own weight until out of the blue, the concrete moved away from you, and you floated back up. Back the right side up.

There were hands and they pulled, and it hurt your arm, your elbow, your shoulder.

“Did you faint? What the– did you faint? No, you– hang on,”

Hands clambered at you until you were back on soft familiar surface, but everything felt a little sticky. And somehow you were fucking freezing.

“Joe?”

You felt your vocal cords say it, you knew you just said something, but you didn’t hear them. Was your voice not working? Or was it your hearing that had gone?

“You fainted,”

“It’s fine, I don’t– what’s happening, what is…”

“Fucking hell, lay down a second. Legs up too, just, I want you flat– be flat,”

You didn’t move quick enough for Joe’s liking, which Joe realized, of course you fucking didn’t. You just smashed yourself face first into the concrete and your eyebrow was bleeding now. In an attempt to gracefully get your legs up onto the lounger too, Joe nearly flung you off of the whole thing on the other side. Managed to grab you by the side just before you swung too far.

“Hands, hands,” Joe just grabbed them. “Give me your hands.” He was already holding them. “Here, hold the sides for me. I need to move you into the shade.”

And then the whole world moved. A tree came into view as the lounger you were on got dragged across grass. It disoriented you into a dizzy spin that made you forget which way was up for a second, even though you were staring right at up.

In no time, two guys who wore polo shirts with hotel-logo-nametags hovered over you and a lady from three sun loungers over stepped in to tell them to get a first aid kit. Something to clean that gash with. To make the bleeding stop.

Joe stepped back and let her mother you for a second, told one of the guys who worked at the hotel that you’d gotten up from the sun lounger and then just… fell.

The lady asked if you’d eaten, and you tried to convince her you were fine and that all of the fuss was a bit much, but then you had to confess that you hadn’t actually eaten and you’d also not slept very well the night before, and the night before that, and, you actually hadn't slept normal in ages, and your shoulders hurt, lower back too, and you’d drank a lot the night before, and, Jesus Christ, you were so fucking cold.

“Someone get her something to drink, she needs sugar,”

“And a sandwich maybe? Something to eat?” Joe added, making the other man scurry off.

There was a moment where the lady and Joe looked at each other and then both looked back at you and you felt so stupidly embarrassed.

“Can I– I want to go back to my room,”

So you could fester in your own embarrassment by yourself in peace and quiet. Without people staring down at you, and no doubt from all around the pool too with all the commotion that was made.

“They’re getting you a drink and some food, and you need your eyebrow looked at,” the lady smiled politely at you, using a finger to wipe some of your hair away from getting stuck in the blood there.

You moved a hand up to touch it, to feel how bad it was, but saw Joe reach an arm out that he quickly snapped away when you halted. You moved it to your mouth instead, to bite at the thumb nail to stop your teeth from chattering.

You were outside and people were barely wearing any clothes and seemed fine – why were you still freezing?

“Are you cold?” the woman asked, already looking around for a towel to drape over you.

“I’m fine,” you lied, and heard Joe huff a laugh. Obviously, you weren’t.

“Here,” he said, and you saw how he handed over the white hotel towel from his sun lounger. It got carefully placed over your shoulders, and it helped a little, but you just wanted to go upstairs and crawl back into bed. Get under the warm covers and sleep this off.

The first aid kit arrived, and this random hotel guest in a bathing suit took it from the guy who’d brought it over. She took over completely, cleaned your face with disinfectant and asked for Joe to help her cut a piece of tape to bandage it up. You saw his fingers fumble, shaking a little bit, like he seemed nervous.

A plated club sandwich and a can of coke arrived. After plenty of “How are you feeling?” and you repeating that you were fine over and over and over in between sips and bites, you were finally asked which room you were staying in, and if you were there with someone.

You hesitated to answer, afraid that if you said you were alone, they wouldn’t just let you go back to your room. They should, of course they should just let you do whatever, but there were three strangers doting over you all worriedly, and then also a fourth one who, even though you'd gone through everything he brought on this trip, was still technically a stranger too.

“It’s okay,” Joe then said. “I’ll take her up to her room.”

And before you could complain about it, he’d slung his towel around his neck, had taken the glass and the plate, then bent sideways and stuck an elbow out for you to loop an arm through.

It was a little weird to walk into the hotel with Joe. To get into the lifts with Joe. To step into your room with Joe.

It was a little weirder to say you were going to shower and that you were fine, thank you.

It was a little weirder when Joe didn’t just accept that and looked at you with worried eyes before he asked if you could shower with the door open, and if he could sit just outside in case the hot water did silly things to your blood pressure. What if you dropped in the shower and no one would be there to stop you from drowning?

“Drown? It’s a shower.”

“Place could flood.” Joe shrugged.

It was weird when you looked at each other a second and you realised he wasn’t going to leave. Wasn’t going to let you shower with the door shut and locked, and so, fine.

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of your hotel room, plate and drink still in hand, when you moved the desk chair closer to the bathroom door.

“I’m sorry, I just, that lady from downstairs will murder me if I don’t make sure you’re okay,”

You laughed at his excuse and gestured for him to put all he was holding down on the desk.

“I’ll be quick.” You said, finding a change of clothes to take into the bathroom with you.

“Please, take your time. Don’t rush.”

You didn’t rush, but were quick anyway. You now had a man waiting for you to finish a shower and you knew you’d gone through all of his things, but leaving him alone in your hotel room surrounded by all of your things felt invasive.

The warm water was nice and managed to relax your shoulders a little.

Not a lot.

But, you know, all little bits helped.

“I’m okay,” you called when you shut off the water, hoping maybe Joe would reply, ok great, and maybe leave. He didn’t. Just said, “Good.” and then stayed put.

When you emerged with wet hair, in soft shorts and a white tank top, Joe smiled at you. His eyes immediately went to the wet bandage that covered your eyebrow still, the tape strong enough to have kept it in place. Good. That was good.

His smile quickly disappeared however, when he saw you rub a hand at your neck, your face displaying a painful grimace.

“Your jacket,” you pointed and Joe looked. Saw his jacket. Had seen it already.

He didn’t move to grab it, instead turning back to you. His eyes flicked between your face that displayed painful discomfort and the hand that was squeezing at the flesh of your shoulder now.

“All right, I’ll leave you alone in a second, but before you tell me you’re fine again, can I… can I just…” Joe held both his hands up. You just looked at them and didn’t move. Joe, in turn, placed both hands on top of your shoulders and frowned at what he felt.

“Jesus, all right,” Joe turned, looked around the room, eyes darting and brain going at top speeds to put a plan together.

“Do you mind if I…?”

Perhaps Joe could start actually finishing his sentences, you thought, although you thought you knew what he meant and shrugged both your shoulders up to your ears.

“No,” Joe’s eyes grew wide before he tutted at you. “Don’t, that doesn’t help. Come, sit,”

Joe sat down on the edge of the bed before you did.

“Face that way,” Joe pointed towards the windows, away from him. You followed instructions without question and felt how he collected your hair into one hand before carefully placing it over a shoulder so it’d be out of the way.

“You know this isn’t what this is meant to feel like, right?” You could hear the humour carried in his voice. Of course you knew that. You knew you also weren’t meant to bite at your nails until your fingers bled. Weren’t meant to wake up sweating and panting because you’d hallucinated being trapped in a small dark place again.

You felt the mattress level out behind you as Joe got up and stepped forward. He bent to the side a little, getting his shoulder in front of your face.

“Here,” he touched himself where he’d touched you just before. “Feel this bit, how you can easily squeeze the soft tissue here?”

You reached up, hesitated for a moment, but then touched Joe over his linen shirt that had a few buttons done up now, and squeezed where he told you to squeeze. Like it was normal.

That was… that was all muscle.

Not as thick and hard as whatever was happening to your shoulders, but these were Joe’s warm muscles you were pressing your fingers into.

“Now feel yours,” Joe moved back, touched his fingers to where he wanted you to feel, and made you squeeze yourself in the same spot and, yea, okay, that was a big difference.

“I am also here to relax, but clearly one of us needs it more than the other,” Joe huffed a laugh through his nostrils as he sat down on the bed again behind you and he got back to what he was doing before.

“I've not gotten a good night's sleep in months,” you revealed as Joe dug thumbs into where it hurt.

Hurt good.

Hurt so good.

“You should book a massage,” Joe spoke softly, but kept massaging your shoulders, the bottom of your neck.

“Hmmh,” you replied, afraid that if you’d say anything else, he’d stop what he was doing.

Joe kneaded and pushed and squeezed and touched for a while, and you noticed you were starting to have to work really hard at not flopping over. At sitting up right and keeping your eyes open. You repressed yawns and tried to remember to breath properly, but you’d just had a nice shower and you’d barely gotten any sleep before and now you were on your bed in a comfortable outfit and Joe was massaging you with his big hands and maybe you could rest your eyes, for just a second, you know?

“Here, lay down,” Joe suddenly whispered and without acknowledging how weird it was that Joe just sat outside your bathroom whilst you showered and was now massaging you to sleep in your hotel room, you just laid down. Instantly got comfortable on your stomach leaving enough space for Joe to sit on the side, one knee folded onto the bed and the other dangling down the side still.

“There’s a– do you feel this?” Joe pushed knuckles exactly where you wanted them. “Huge knot.”

“Feels nice,” you whispered, breathy and exhausted.

“I can loosen it up a bit more, but this– you really should get a professional massage,”

Joe kept working strong fingers and even stronger knuckles into the same spots until you couldn’t even feel it anymore. Just felt numb. Or maybe you were just falling asleep and not stopping yourself from slipping under.

Joe’s hands never ventured much lower – maybe just a little, but nothing inappropriate. You were only strangers after all. He thought that you knew who he was but then you didn’t and now the playing field was level and, sure, you knew more about him because you’d gone through his whole suitcase, but he was in your hotel room now and you were falling asleep under his touch.

Fell asleep under his touch.

You woke up in an empty hotel room hours later, covered by the folded-over other half of the duvet you were lying on top of.

You felt… well rested. Only a little disoriented. A little thirsty. Nothing crazy.

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s fingers trailing from your shoulders down your arms and back up again and you felt a little sad that he wasn’t there anymore.

It was still light out, but the sun was setting and it felt like the whole day had passed you by today. You stretched, body feeling looser. Better. Joe was right though, you needed to book a massage. Maybe two. Or three.

When you looked over and saw Joe’s jacket still there, slung over the back of the chair that was now back in its spot behind the desk, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you. He could’ve taken that – should have taken that, and yet…

Yea, the day had been weird.

Had been weird from the start.

The weird night's sleep, Joe's toiletries bag, the wound above your eye, the empty coke can on the desk, the massage that had put you to sleep for several uninterrupted hours, and, Joe's jacket.

Weird.

And then room service was weird.

And watching the sunset from your balcony was weird.

Then trying to get back into bed for actual nighttime sleep was weird.

All of it, just... weird.

Room 907.

You'd said you would return the jacket today.

And then he'd been in your room and he'd stayed with you until you'd fallen asleep and then he hadn't taken it.

Joe's jacket was still in your hotel room.

Weird.

You tried ignoring it. Tried to watch TV. Scrolled on your phone. Thought of taking a long bath, maybe.

But that stupid jacket. It kept calling your attention from across the room.

Even after turning off all the lights and tossing and turning for about an hour, you could still feel it there. Taunting. Whispering dares.

Bring me to his hotel room.

Take me there.

Come on.

And...

Fuck.

All right.

You sat up in bed, flicked on a light and squinted both eyes at the sudden brightness.

There it was, still in the same spot. Joe's jacket.

“Fine. You win.” you told no one and slung your legs out of bed, grumbling with annoyance as you took the jacket from the chair and found your hotel room key on the side.

Room 907.

The hotel was quiet as you took the lift down two floors and found Joe's room quick enough.

You stalled a second, unsure if you should knock, but then thought, fuck it. You were there now, jacket in hand, and you'd said you'd bring it back today. You knocked softly, then waited and listened. Nothing. Just to be safe, you knocked again, and then heard the soft click of a light switch. You ignored how that made your heart thunder in your throat.

It didn't take long for the door to open. When you saw Joe's tired face, you immediately knew you'd made a mistake.

You should've waited 'til the next morning. This wasn't a cool move.

“Your jacket,” you felt so dumb. Looked so dumb.

But then you caught sight of the smallest of smiles as Joe took it from you, holding the door wide open as he did.

A beat of silence followed where you hoped Joe'd say thanks, so you could tell him thank you for letting you borrow it in return.

The thanks never came.

Instead Joe stepped aside, door still wide open, and gave a tiny backwards nod that welcomed you inside, followed by a quiet whisper.

“Come on.”

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #icallhimjoey #lost & found #lost and found #part three

318 notes · View notes

raplinesmoon · 2 years ago

Text

Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy <3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok?

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night.

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father.

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of.

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain.

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly.

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow.

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets.

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though.

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there.

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork.

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears.

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day.

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic.

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays.

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face.

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes.

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm.

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…”

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee.

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in.

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier.

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break.

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with.

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice.

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?”

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried.

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you.

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket.

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand.

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him.

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him.

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him.

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were.

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge.

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand.

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face.

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face.

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____.

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure.

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not.

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him.

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him.

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him.

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around.

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones.

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out.

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape.

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips.

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch.

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more.

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in.

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers.

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths.

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising.

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together.

a/n pt. 2: Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

247 notes · View notes

lululandd · 2 years ago

Text

rabid; (ii.)

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 895

warnings: unhinged topics, blasphemy, ghost starting to feel things

note: sadly this is hinged (maybe if ideas come the next one will be unhinged >:3) also on AO3

summary: soap couldn’t be more blatantly listening in, lowering the telly’s volume to hear them better.

part i. | part ii. | part iii. | part iv.

Johnny had mentioned he wanted to see the quiet little village where his home is and Simon thinks it’s time the Scot knows where he lives. He had met Johnny’s extended family, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, it warms his little black heart when he mentions the little nephews and nieces asking about him and whether he will be making an appearance that year.

He didn’t have time to clean and prepare for Johnny’s arrival so they both had to do chores. The Scot laughed about how mundane and domestic this is while waggling his eyebrows,

“Come on LT, you know this shite is more manageable with someone in your life.”

“Shut the fuck up Johnny.”

It was nearing afternoon and he had completely forgotten about his neighbour until he heard them greeting the invisible people and started telling them about their day. Soap couldn’t be more blatantly listening in, lowering the telly’s volume to hear them better. It was pretty mundane as they just got started, but as the night went on Soap was keen on listening even further, sometimes shushing him when he tried to talk. His gloved hand came up as he turned his head to him with the widest grin on his face. Ghost had guessed Johnny almost always lived with his family and never had to worry about thin walls and nosy neighbours from all the fun he’s having right now.

It was all benign conversation so far, asking about people’s days, people’s lives, and sometimes comments about things he doesn’t understand. But if he knows his neighbour, it always starts off that way before their mind wanders to unimaginable places. Places he would not like to visit, but would love to hear about.

“So we’ve all heard of anal prolapse, right?” Your voice came clearly, everything else in the flat muted by Soap, including him.

What is your fixation with anal, seriously.

A cough erupts from Johnny's throat, caught off guard by the objectionable question asked in the most innocuous way.

They continued listening in and Simon couldn’t suppress his grin to what question or statement awaits them next. “What about a urethra prolapse, does that exist?”

Simon wasn’t fast enough to warn Johnny not to say anything, so when the Scot half yelled “Oi, what tae fuck?!” It rang clear through both flats. There were no other sounds in the air as his neighbour heard Johnny’s clamour.

A few moments passed before a faint little ‘sorry’ floated through the air between them. He doesn’t know it yet but it was the end of hearing his neighbour. His teammate had turned the telly back on, and they were back to talking again. Simon hadn’t thought about how quiet his neighbour had been until one night–Johnny wanted to stay for a full week at his place–when he was alone in the apartment, he noticed the absence of your voice. He checked his watch, this was usually the time you would start talking.

He had tried so hard not to show his friend that this event bothered him, even though it did trouble him to his core that his neighbour would shut the fuck up immediately like that. It continued that way, quiet and hushed conversations that he couldn't listen to. He swears as soon as Johnny goes back to his own place he’ll apologise to them. First thing he’ll do. Cross his heart.

The moment Soap turned his back on him at the airport, he was gone. Simon swore he hit every red light from the airport back to his flat. It was the most excruciating car ride of his life, second to his escape from the Shadows back in Las Almas.

Your apartment seemed empty with nary any sound coming from inside, but he sees movement from under the door that suggests otherwise. He knocked on the door and didn’t know he had set expectations for himself until the door was open and he felt… disappointment. The chain wasn’t even undone, he can only see a little part of their face.

“Sorry, I was really trying to keep it quiet.” You talked quietly, your words gentle, bordering emotionless. It sounds so different from the usual excitement he’s used to.

He rubs his face, feeling a pressure on his chest that does not feel far removed from guilt.

“No you were fine, I apologise for my friend’s behaviour. I like listening to you talk and would love to hear you again.”

He sees you avoiding his eyes as you nod, “Okay, thanks.”

Even though you did sound louder than when Johnny was around, he could tell you were still holding back; he had to strain his hearing to even catch a glimpse of what you’re talking about and couldn’t help but feel annoyed at Johnny for unnecessarily speaking up. Yes, they banter all the time and he would never be offended but these are civilians and people he had never met before, so he can’t just act as if he knows them and think there would only be positive reactions from people.

He was about to resign that his neighbour would never speak up again until one night he hears; half intelligible from laughter,

“Was Jesus circumcised?”

There we go.

He feels himself tip towards that warm place inside him that he rarely goes to.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

224 notes · View notes

pfhwrittes · 1 year ago

Text

as i was floating in the bath just now i had a little thought about the timeline of my jonesy stuff. because so far i’ve kind of just shoved her in as an extra member of the 141 and then i got to thinking about well… what if jonesy ends up joining the 141 after soap’s death?

like how would her personality fit with these three men that are grieving their friend? what does grief look like to price, gaz and ghost? how would it feel knowing that she may have physically filled a gap on the team but she’s not actually welcome?

what if she drank out of johnny’s mug not knowing it was soap’s and it got pulled out of her hands roughly by ghost with no explanation?

what if she inadvertently makes a joke that reminds price of soap after she steps away from the mats in the gym and instead of laughing or bantering back price just stares her down until she apologises?

what if she calls ghost “lt” on comms and it’s sgt garrick (not gaz, not kyle) who growls at her not to call him that?

what if whenever she joins them around a table or in the rec room they all do a little half turn as she fills soap’s space?

what if even laswell does a tiny flinch whenever jonesy speaks up during a meeting because she’s expecting to hear a scottish accent and not a welsh one?

what if under the shitty twin bed in her room she finds a photo of price, garrick and a blue eyed man she doesn’t recognise when she goes looking for her dropped phone? what if she flips it over and it has “price + gaz + johnny” scrawled in ghost’s handwriting on the back?

what if she tucks it under her pillow to keep it safe and every night as she turns in she pulls it out to talk to the beaming dust covered face of a stranger she only knows as johnny?

#pfh headcannons #oc: jonesy #jp #sr #kg #kl

14 notes · View notes

lorimnnn · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, would you be so kind to write for some DBD killers? If so, could you please write some headcanons on Max, Kazan and Anna taking pity on a survivor reader? She has been hiding away the whole trial and they find her shaking in a corner, hugging her knees and crying. She is so scared that she can't move and the only thing that comes out of her mouth is a weak "I just want to go home"

Than you in advance! 💗

absolutely!!!!

i do apologise for taking WAY too long with this, sometimes a lack of motivation trumps all, no matter how good the request is!

I hope what I've written is plenty enough to please you...

also, keep requesting guys! I love seeing your messages turn up in my inbox <;3

cw: canon-typical violence, gore, some swearing, panic/anxiety, but mostly just angsty fluff, ngl

DBD Killers With a Scared!Reader

Max Thompson Jr.

Initially... he's so confused. He doesn't know what to think, first, but avoids you as an issue to deal with later. I'd like to think the Hillbilly prefers to take care of the more difficult survivors, first--- he's just like that.

His screams terrify you. You can hear the sound or people getting torn apart and you've never been particularly fond of torture. You were a sensitive, emotional soul, and so, very kind. But make no mistake. The Entity meant for you to be here--- whoever the "Entity" was, anyway.

At this point, everybody had left you behind to fend for themself. Since the Hillbilly was an unsubtle butcher, it was easier to elude and avoid him--- giving them time to try explain to you and encourage you to do your part. But it just went in one ear and out the other. You were terrified, after all. Eventually, they just gave up and let you be, crying and frozen with your hands clamped over your ears.

How did it ever come to this?

Now you're the only one left. Max doesn't notice you at first, you know, since you're new. He thinks he's taken care of everyone, but he doesn't understand why the trial hasn't ended

Then he hears small, breathless sniffles

Whips around, confused

His chainsaw growls at his side and the crying grows louder as he nears. He hunts you down and just... finds you. Raises the chainsaw above his head and is about to kill you--- but then you look up at him, completely defeated and vulnerable, wet-eyed and quivering

You don't even try to run at that rate. How can you? Where will you go? You've never been here before. But it looks very far from home

I think it's the hopelessness in your life that makes him pause

he's completely quiet and just standing there

And realising that nobody is coming to help you, you burst into more violent wails

"I want to go home!"

Awkwarddddd

stands there watching you tear up and inwardly panics

doesn't know how to comfort anyone. his parents were terrible and tortured him, and because of his prison in the walls, he never got to make any friends

he's grappling with the feeling of duty

it's not the first time survivor's have cried before, but it's the first time one has cried and not looked at him with complete disgust or hatred. you're crying because you're scared, yes, and obviously scared of him... but it's like you're giving him an opportunity to win your trust

he finally gets to be more than an angry villain... and he's unsure where to start

so he puts down his chainsaw, first. turns it off and everything, then just chucks it somewhere behind him. he'll go find it later

you're watching him like a deer in the headlights as he gets down on his knees and carefully scoots towards you

you flinch when his hand descends close to your face... and then rests on your head

*pat pat pat*

You're still so stiff, so terrified, but your tears are beginning to cease in passion

seeing your reaction feels like a reassurance, so he does it again

a bit harsh with it though

"ow..." you say when it starts to feel like he's hitting you. "that hurts..."

oh my gosh he feels so bad

hand retreats immediately

makes a sound that has you deflating completely, because you realise he's trying. he's truly trying, and is just not very good at it

he's completely defenseless, too

you realise that with a flinch, because it means that this disfigured, monstrous killer is trying to appeal to your trust, telling you he won't kill you

you soften up a little

you fear that when he stands up because you're taking too long, he'll grab the chainsaw again and make it quick. but you don't want to die--- you saw everyone else get chopped up and you don't want that to happen to you

max stiffens when he sees you beginning to move on to your hands and knees, crawling towards him. your face is still wet but now they're full of hope, not just undiluted fear

"can... can I have a hug?"

he's so scared he'll crush you

in all honesty maxie's never gotten a hug before. he's not used to this kind of gentleness, just violent anger

so he opens his arms up slowly, jerking like a rusting machine, inviting you in the best he can. trying to smile at you, even though his face doesn't allow. it's like his hatred for his disfigurement has just been renewed--- he wishes he could look nicer, just for you

definitely has a moment where he's like, "what the fuck am I doing right now?"

very well knows the entity may punish him for this

can't bring himself to care

not when you curl up against his chest between his knees, your sobs starting up again as you grip into his clothes, holding yourself impossibly close

absolutely melts

a natural at adapting to the cuddle

wraps his arms around you like you're delicate, though. not the firmness you need but it makes you feel so special and so cared for that you just cry harder, burying your face into him

max cannot believe this is happening rn

a new, alien kind of warmth floods through him, protective and strong. he strokes your arm gently and lets you cry, wishing he knew how to help, cursing himself out for the fact he doesn't

jumps when you speak, "will I ever go home again?"

his heart practically breaks. he doesn't want to shake his head, but he has to. he doesn't understand why he hates it when you cry, but he allows it.

and he promises that he'll do everything in his ability to protect you, and make sure you never have to cry like this again

all in all a 10/10 touch-starved baby. would probably fall a little in love with you when you recover, shaky hands reaching to pull you into another hug, but not knowing if it's okay.

will bridal carry you into the hatch and drop you in, heart breaking all over again when you scream and fight to reach for him, hands desperately fumbling for grip on his clothes

but he'll see you again

just you wait, sweetpea

Kazan Yamaoka

an asshole. he's so driven by rage that he most likely won't notice at first. just destroys and destroys, reaping destruction in his chosen path

this means that you won't even have a chance to talk to the other survivors. they know how kazan is and they'll send you an apologetic glance as they all scatter, wishing they had more time to explain but knowing if they didn't work fast, they were all done for

you're on your own, kid

let's say you're a good climber. shakily, you haul yourself on to the roof and choose there to hide, because for some reason... nobody ever looks up. ever.

until the end

kazan is wracking his head for a solution--- why isn't the trial ending? hasn't he won? he killed them all... hooked, mori'd, he'd lost count. but he knew the faces of the survivors he hated the most to the ones he still couldn't stand on a lesser scale and was sure he'd made a mess of all of them. but still, the trial continued

which meant a new survivor

so who was it?

where was it?

drives himself insane trying to find you. for all his rage and godlike pride, he's not the brightest

only realises you're on the roof when you start hiccupping, panic increasing tenfold when you realise you're the only one left. You don't know about hatches, you don't know about anything. Nobody explained anything to you

And now you're stuck with a flaming, angry monster

you can't even scream. it's stuck in your throat, muffled, choking on it--- you can only watch as kazan gets closer and closer. he's even angrier than usual--- did you mean to trick him? did you plan this? of course, you wanted to make a fool out of him

approaches you with audible, potent breaths. he reminds you of a hungry lion on the prowl, an apex predator approaching you, unrivalled. proud. ego hurt.

you back away

there is no remorse in this samurai, you can see it. you're scrambling back with your hands still on your ass, sniffling. and then you slip.

it's completely clumsy and stupid. you're at the end of the roof and you didn't realise, and now you're on your back, nothing to grab on to, and rolling off the edge.

kazan watches you smack against the ground. he expects you to get up and run away again.

but when you cry out, a vulnerable, naked cry, innocent to pain like this, he stops.

he watches you sob harder, muttering to yourself. "I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I just wanna go home..."

and your eyes are clenched shut, like you're praying. don't you know your wishes are futile, here? the Entity is not a merciful god, nor is it kind

you curl up into a ball and just lay there, and he can only stare

he starts to remember how your teammates didn't even help you. they only cared for themselves and their own survival. dishonourable cowards.

they'd left you stranded, and none of them had noticed

he supposed he could try and understand their positions. they were in a high-pressure situation and they could only do what they needed to do, lest they be butchered by them premature to even the middle of the trial. but still

there was a special kind of fear you honed that made him almost feel... bad

it took him back to his youth. he remembered his dead father. that man had not been innocent to bloodshed, but he had been innocent, no less. and he had died. dead in a way he did not deserve

you reminded him of his father taking his last breath

that day, he had failed to protect his family and honour his last name. he had not been a warrior that day, but a coward

and seeing you was a painful reminder of all his regrets

so he sighed

and carefully made his way towards you

you didn't even notice him until he grabbed you by the chin, turning your head to face him. your breath hitched in your throat and you froze all over, more tears surfacing to your eyes

but the feared oni only scoffed

"I'm not here to hurt you. I would have done so already if that were the case."

you sniffled pathetically

he loosened his grip on your face

being gentle had never been his strong suit. it had been a while since he'd had such an opportunity, to be responsible for someone else's comfort. be the person they needed

swallows when you melt into his touch

your entrance had been a rude one, after all. he was the only person who'd ever stopped and attempted kindess with you in this hell hole. the other survivors had neglected you

"your arm is broken?"

"i... I think so."

"The Entity will fix it."

"Entity?"

sighs

gently explains to you where you are and what's going on. at this point, he has squatted down to sit, less beast and more man... and you have finally sat up, cradling your arm as you scoot closer. kazan has noticed but hasn't said anything, unsure of your movements but certain of your weakness

does not expect you to throw yourself into his arms

the impropriety!!!

kazan is an Edo-era samurai, come on

freezes up like he's been violated

"s-sorry," you whisper. "I just... I need someone. Please. To tell me I'll be okay."

relaxes

pity begins to transform into sympathy and something else, something that makes him feel responsible for you. Like a dad or something, or maybe even more. a possible companion

won't get ahead of himself, though

strokes your hair like a domesticated cat and eventually hauls you into the little cradle formed in the centre of his crossed legs

you're baby now

not that you're complaining

kazan is as warm as a furnace and he's the first comforting thing you've had in a while. against your will, your entire body melts and you become liquid in his arms, much to his pleasure

he finds he... may like this

he's never really given tender affection like this before. sure, he had his family, but that had been purely for the upholding o his dark legacy

now that's over and immortalised, and there's you

he doesn't mind you

remember that kazan is very headstrong and emotionally driven. he kills everyone in an episode of unparalleled anger. so of course he starts to see you in a certain way--- his little deer, little one, sweet creature

depending only on him

of course he'll take care of you when he puts it like that

but alas, he can't keep you here forever

"Little one, we must part. But I will see you again. I will make sure of it. You will be strong when I see you next time. You will not cower. Do you understand?"

You really don't, but tearfully, you nod. you don't want to disappoint and it pleases him that you care to appease to a monster at all

leads you to the hatch with one hand on the back of your neck. sends you off with an approving nod.

you'll never know how softly he smiled at you that day

Anna

with her hunting skills, you have more luck being obvious than you do hiding and being subtle. you hiding and being subtle was what gave you away immediately

and also, Anna loves a challenge

the other survivors tried dragging you around with them, explaining, but it was all in vain. you weren't moving. you weren't doing anything but crying

they gave up and abandoned you when it compromised their own safety to be around you

but some stayed

who was it? leon. of course it's leon. he's too noble, too kind-hearted to leave you behind

he tries to defend you when Anna finally approaches, but he can't

you feel your entire world break apart when she mori's him right in front of you

that's when your hardly-contained sobs turn into silent, breathless whimpers, more tears streaming down your face and your chest quaking as you fight to breathe

you can't breathe

noticing how you aren't even moving away, Anna will pause

she will look at you, consider your state

do you enjoy being such easy prey?

maybe, maybe not

she takes her time to study you because you're not going anywhere and even if you tried, she'd be on to you in seconds

you're staring at Leon's mutilated body, hands curling into the dirty

i think that's when it hits you this is very real, and there's no escape

you're absolutely done for

and you're terrified because of it

and as Anna approaches, you can't even back away. too in shock, too scared, to helpless and vulnerable

who is this woman, so sly and stealthy, murdering all of you one by one? a rabbit mask on her face--- a real rabbit, too?

and why is she hesitating to kill you when she didn't hesitate to kill Leon?

little do you know, Anna's soft spot for little girls has been triggered

it just has to be the way you're curled up, knees to your chest and arms helpless beside you, fighting to curl around your legs when there's no strength to hold them there

you just look so... small

like you need someone

Anna will feel slightly bad that she killed the only person who gave you any sort of momentary security

after all, Anna knew what it was like to be left completely alone

the feeling of loneliness was unparalleled and the fact you looked so... defenceless made her feel even worse about it

at least the other survivors had their own skills

you were obviously new to all of this--- did you even know what you could do?

poor baby

immediately decides she will spare you. fuck being a survivor, you're helpless and you need someone, even if that means her, a killer. you need her

motherly instincts absolutely activated

you squeak pathetically when she crouches down beside you, arms looping beneath your knees and back

you can't even scream when she lifts you. what the fuck--- what are you doing, what---

she lifts you so easily, too. doesn't matter how heavy you are. remember her strength is increased by the entity, and she can hunt bears and stuff. she's strong

and she's... she's rocking you like a newborn baby...

anna sings to you. she sings the lullabies her mother used to sing to her and hums into your ear, trying to calm you

soothe you

it works, if only slightly

you're still not ever the fact that she brutalized Leon like that RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

and she does feel guilty but she isn't sure there is anything she can say to you to fix that

your eyes are just too innocent

it's very clear to her that you've never seen blood before. at least, not like that

not to that extreme

starts babying you until your cries cease completely

whispers to you comfortingly in Russian

you vaguely understand a question she keeps asking you: what's wrong? what is it? what is the problem?

at least, you think so

you just look at her tearfully, about to burst all over again and say, "I just want to go home!"

at that moment, her heart breaks for you

and she feels so much anger towards the Entity, because can she not see? is this some joke?

you are the last person deserving of this kind of hell

you reminded her of the rabbits that used to roam her forest. they were so vulnerable and weak

but they had their own tenacity she was sure she would see in you

puts you down and holds your hand, then starts tugging you along

you follow dumbly, with a bewildered expression on your face

her message is very clear: "I'll get to you in a minute. Let me take care of something first, okay?"

holds your hand tighter when she hooks and mori's the other survivor right in front of you all over again, feeling that you're trying to run away

it's like she's trying to each you something

shows you how to hide and the best places to do so (and pretends she can't see you when she forces you to practice)

it's giving father-son catch except it's more so mother-daughter hide and seek

not very fun on your end and you get more and more freaked out but you find you'd rather be favoured by the killer than hated

by the time there's nobody left, Anna will reluctantly lead you to the hatch

she doesn't want to let you go

she might even offer things to the entity to keep you as her little daughter

she knows she could protect you much better and hates the idea of seeing you hurt when she just knows the other killers won't be as merciful

they won't understand

feels so possessive of you already, but knows that either way, the Entity will take you away

So she pulls you to her, kisses your head

then shoos you off the hatch like a mother duck bidding farewell to her duckling

you just stare at her, confused

does it again

realising that she wants you to jump into the unknown door in the ground, you start crying again

no! no! don't do that!

hugs you in a panic and pets your hair

depending on how severe she will pick you up again

and in either case, she will have to--- broken heartedly--- send you off into the abyss as you sniffle

"please don't make me go..."

oh trust me, she doesn't want to

but she'd rather not find out what the entity will do to you

strokes your hair and gives you a gentle push

she'll come back for you, y/n

mommy's proud of you!!!

yay! I did it!

I hope you enjoyed this, nonnie. this was so fun to write.

please keep sending me requests!

oh, and remember to reblog and follow!

lorimn <3

#dbd #dbd x reader #the hillbilly x reader #max thompson jr #max thompson jr x reader #the hillbilly #kazan yamaoka #kazan yamaoka x reader #the oni #the oni x reader #the huntress x reader #dbd killers x reader #dead by daylight #dbd headcanons

1K notes · View notes

dawnofh · 2 years ago

Text

Mentor Ghost [Headcannon]

“Looking submissive and breedable, Lt.” “What the actual fuck did you just say to me?”

Gets annoyed with you every second and with all his eye rolling he might just roll it to the back of his head one day.

He doesn’t understand how he’s stuck babysitting a rookie, better yet a rookie that reminds him of Soap.

You accompany him…or more or less, follow him wherever he goes. Whether it’s on base or on the battlefield.

You cheer him on whenever you watch him spar with anyone. Even if he’s losing, you’ll still cheer him on.

“Do you think I’ll ever be as good as you, Sir?“ “Nope.”

You copy everything he does, how he dresses, acts and even how he sips his tea.

24/7 asking for a face reveal, Ghost tells you every time to “Go fuck yourself.” And you always reply, “Gladly.”

You’re convinced his mask is made of an actual skull. He will neither deny nor confirm it.

As much as you annoy him, he’s still your mentor and corrects you all the time. He trains you by hand and monitors your progress.

Will actually praise you if you do well or have improved. Is surprisingly patient with you and guides you through training with tough love.

He’s only nice during training though, on the battlefield he’ll cuss you out if you so much as aim a gun at him. “Watch. Your. Bloody. Aim.”

You genuinely look up to Ghost and admire everything he does. You once told him you’d take a bullet for him any day. He didn’t take you seriously and brushed it off as it was just a thing rookie’s said to their superiors. Until you actually jumped in front of him and got 2 bullets to the stomach and 3 in your leg. “Lieutenant…I told you that I would protect you with my very life.”

After that day he never wanted to go on another mission with you. Actually put you on probation for 5 months and told you to quit the army.

You’re resilient so you bounced back in 2 and a half months and restarted the process of impressing your mentor all over again.

You’ve once cried over Ghost when you found out bits and pieces about his past and made it your soul mission to bring happiness into his life.

Ghost just doesn’t want to get attached to anyone that could be a liability. He’ll tell you this and you’d still come back running to him. You’ll push yourself above and beyond to not only impress your Lieutenant, but to one day hear those words, “I’m proud of you”

You’ve once called him by his actual name by accident and apologised over and over again. He forgave you because he didn’t understand why you were overreacting over making such a small mistake.

Never allows you in the room he’s torturing someone in. When 141 is in a room all together, depending on what they’re discussing, he’ll tell you to go visit the German Shepherds or to sit quietly in the corner.

You’ve spoken out of term once during a briefing and Ghost personally escorted you out. He corrects bad behaviour with scolding. Never once has he laid his hands on any of the rookies out of anger.

Sticks up for you in a heartbeat.

Tells you to never become like him, he actually wants you to become better but will never tell you this part.

Not a hugger but will pat you on the back like a proud father.

#cod mw22 #cod x reader #cod headcanons #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #codmw2 ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost x gn reader

661 notes · View notes

bellatrixscurls · 2 years ago

Text

TYLER GALPIN X BESTFRIEND!READER

⛧ thoughts

no thoughts just,, tyler always hanging out with bestfriend!reader. and everyone thinks you’re together bc his hands are always on you and he kisses you a lot, doing couples stuff and all that.

and so, at some point one of your friends is like,, referring to you as a couple and tyler acts all disgusted like “my girlfriend? that’s so gross” but he only does that bc he actually has feelings for you and is scared, but you feel so bad and just start sobbing and leave.

and he wants to just kill himself at that point bc how could he ever have hurt the sweetest thing alive, the one who would not question him or what they were, the one who did not need to put labels on things.

so he comes after you and finds you sobbing in the bathroom and when he moves to pull you into his chest, his arms tightening around you, you don’t try to push him away, because after everything, even though he was the one who hurt you, you still need him.

“d-do you think it’s d-disgusting?” you stutter after a while, having calmed down a bit. and you just look at him with those big sweet eyes and he feels his heart shattering.

and all he wants is to worship you, tell you how amazing you are and how he feels about you, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he sighs and speaks quietly, “no, not at all. i am” he laughs bitterly, closing his eyes tightly as he leans back against the bathroom door.

so you just jump out of his arms, cupping his face “no!” you say, eyes wide as you try to erase that thought from his mind, “you are not disgusting at all. you...- you are very nice” and you blush like crazy.

tyler feels his pants tighten against his growing cock and he just cannot keep himself from peppering your face with kisses, pecking your lips, and apologosing, telling you how he actually feels about you and how much of a douchebag he is for not telling the truth to begin with.

and when he tells you he’s in love with you, you stare up at him with hopeful eyes, your heart swelling in your chest as you murmur, “love you more, ty. i love you so much.”

the end <3

he ends up fucking you against the wall, praising you and calling you “sweet little thing” and his “best girl”, his cock buried deep inside you as he marks you up, eyes rolling back at finally feeling you wrapped around him. he also tells that to your friends later and apologises <3

#jade’s thoughts #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin smut #wednesday x reader

631 notes · View notes

the-royal-petals · 3 years ago

Text

Oneiric | Multiverse of Madness ( Fix-It fix) | Chapter 1 | [Preview]

Description: Stephen Strange isn't the most open person in the world, which makes him one of the most mysterious people on the planet, but the one thing that they do know is his selflessness to help others.

For the last few days, he has been facing the same dream---a dream that stems from an incident from his childhood. At first, it was merely as annoying as a fly buzzing in the room, but as time went by, he felt his reality slip away from him, to the point he had to confess to Wong about his troubles.

So one day when it comes to helping himself, Stephen revisits an unlikely place with a few of his friends in hopes to get rid of his reoccurring nightmares.

Warnings: Drowning, descriptions of nightmares, angst.

Notes: Hello everyone! Here are a few things I'd like you to know before reading this. This is my first time writing something that combines the Marvel Comics and the MCU into one story; please forgive me if anything is incorrect or any characters are out of character.

My aim for this story is to include stuff that I believe should've been included in the movie and change some stuff around. I did enjoy MoM but I do believe there are a few things that could've been changed.

Please do give constructive criticism on grammar, or anything that feels off. But do tell me how to improve as that would be very appreciated. My writing isn't the best and I am hoping you could give me a chance <3

I apologise for this being so long-winded, but I hope you enjoy <3

Stephen was heading back to the one place he hoped he’d never see again.

He hadn’t been here in a long time, not since the incident. Stephen couldn’t stop replaying the memory in his head, and despite how much he tried, he couldn’t save her. He couldn’t save Donna.

This was the 5th time he has had this dream this year. He approached a small wooden cabin that still had its signature homely feel. Moss grew on the outer rims of the wood, climbing up to the overhanging roof where three tiles hung off. Three windows overlooked the lake on the front, and a single window overlooked Wendigo Forest on the right. On the roof, a brick chimney rose a couple of metres, still covered in a blanket of soot that kept his family warm whenever he visited.

The lake bed sat a couple of metres away; a pier hung over the edge. It was a place he used to sit when he was younger. He’d dangle his legs off the edge and watch his reflection as the water lapped and splashed at the wooden poles, occasionally spraying onto his feet. This time, he could see that the lake was frozen over. The lake had a dark-grey tint to it which grew darker as it stretched into the distance.

The sun hung low behind the mountains, casting a shadow onto the lake, turning the sky into a gloomy wonder, dragging its surroundings into darkness. Stephen could see a couple of trees dancing in the shadows, warping into mocking figures he swore had faces. The branches grew sharp teeth as he stared for a prolonged period as he stood on the wooden pier.

The cold air pierced through his skin, forcing him to hug himself to conserve the remaining heat. As he looked out, a tiny figure emerged in the distance. It seemed like a young girl, almost like a child. As she approached, Stephen immediately recognised her to be his sister. She wore the same clothes as she did on the day she drowned. A light-beige jacket with a fluffy white collar, and a winter bobble hat that was woven with the colours of the rainbow. Her boots and trousers matched the coat, winter boots and the same beige and fluff wrapped around the bottom of the legs.

This couldn’t be real. She died.

“Stephen! Come play with me, I’ve got something to show you!” Donna stared up at him with innocence; a doe-like stare forced him to smile at her. He felt something clench his heart, stealing a breath from him as he watched her grow closer.

How can he stop her?

Stephen gulped and took in a shaky breath, blaming it on the cold and not on his nerves that were threatening to break through. “How about we stay inside? It’s getting too cold and I think mum wants to watch a movie with us.” He suggested, though he could already feel her disappointment.

Donna frowned and tugged at his sleeve. “Do we have to?” She complained, looking out at the lake, “this is the first time the lake has frozen over and I was looking forward to it.”

God dammit.

Of course, he remembered how little it had snowed when he was younger. It was as rare as him being able to get a girlfriend. Going with Donna would be a death sentence for her; he couldn’t say no to her. Maybe he could use magic to save her? Would it be possible to go to the other side of the lake?

“I don’t know, Donna.” He said, looking at the pile of snow in the distance, “it’s getting dark. It could probably snow more tomorrow? The ice, uh. . .” he gestured to the crack, “it doesn’t seem safe.”

Saying those words felt like he was spitting venom, shutting down her hopes and dreams. This was about saving his sister. He couldn’t lose her again.

She looked at the lake and pouted, giving it a farewell before heading back towards the cabin. Donna gave him another glance before opening the door and wandering inside, dumping her winter jacket at the front door. At that moment, he felt like he had just committed the biggest crime against humanity.

Stephen followed her.

Opening the door, he expected to be in the living room. On the other side, cold air rushed from the mountains and smacked him in the face, causing him to shield his eyes and once he opened them, he was standing at the side of the lake again.

“DONNA?!” He called out into the darkness.

Around him, he could feel nothing. Darkness skewed his field of vision, tunnelling it so the only thing he could see was a metre in front of him. The wind picked up, whooshing past, blocking out any chance of being able to hear anything. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Donna was supposed to be in the house. Maybe he had accidentally cast a teleportation spell? Or saved Donna and this was his punishment?

“STEPHEN!” In the distance, he could hear a faint scream, muffled by the howling wind. He pushed forward.

crack.

Stephen looked down. He knew he was on the lake. Reaching out he attempted to create a portal, swirling his hand in a circular motion, but to no avail. He felt like he was back on Mount Everest again, forced to open a portal out of his arrogance. On his hand, he noticed the lack of sling ring, or any sort of sparks of magical presence.

But something told him to keep pushing.

Every step he took, the ice cracked further, the muffled screams became clearer.

“STEPHEN! HELP--! I CAN’T SWIM.”

Shit. How the fuck did this happen? She was just in the house.

He knelt down at the edge of the ice; the cracks stretching out every second, threatening to take Stephen down with it. But he didn’t care, he had to help her. Stephen reached out for Donna, grabbing her hand. Donna pulled him forwards, dragging him towards the black abyss that is the lake below. Her gasps and pleas echoed louder as the shadows grew closer, pulling him further towards the edge.

Stephen plummeted into the lake, water rushed into his lungs before jolting up.

He had failed again.

---------------------------------------------

[ I do not want this translated or reposted on any other platforms. This will only be avaliable on:

Archive of our Own; The_Royal_Petals

Quotev: @.averypoofity

Tumblr: @the-royal-petals]

Tags: @shadowmarvelartist , @strangeobsessed @doctorofmagic -- [Hey I hope it's okay to tag you! I remember talking to you and you wanted to see where I was going with this. I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think on twitter <3]

[ Click Here to be added to my taglist ]

Final note: Please let me know how I can improve this! This isn't the final version, so do give me some feedback if you can! Based on this chapter alone.

#feedback #marvel #fix it fic #Stephen Strange #multiverse of madness #nightmare #dreams #preview #constructive criticism welcome #fanfic #wong #angst #i need some feedback so please tell me what you think #please be nice about it ahah #but do tell me how to improve i need help 😭

36 notes · View notes

phantom-le6 · 4 years ago

Text

Episode Reviews - Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4 (3 of 6)

Having taken longer than planned on the earlier reviews for season 4 of Stark Trek: The Next Generation, I am now going to make more effort to stick to my weekly schedule and get the reviews done more frequently, beginning with those I am posting now.

Episode 11: Data’s Day

Plot (as given by me):

Data, in corresponding with Bruce Maddox, outlines a typical day aboard the Enterprise, making particular emphasis on the aspect of friendship.

At the start of the day, Data is relieved early from his command of the night shift so he has more time to participate in the wedding rehearsal for Chief Miles O’Brien’s wedding to Keiko Ishikara, a civilian botanist assigned to the Enterprise. Data is acting as ‘father of the bride’, but when he visits Keiko, he learns she is calling off the wedding as she believes it will make her happy, and asks Data to relay the news to Miles. Data presumes this will make the chief happy if it is what Keiko wants, but Miles is inevitably upset. Later, Data talks to Lt. Commander George La Forge, who explains Keiko just has pre-wedding anxiety and the real wedding will still take place as usual.

As a Vulcan ambassador arrives on board with a secretive mission that takes the Enterprise into the Neutral Zone, Data proceeds on Geordi’s advice to act as if the wedding will still take place; he discusses the concept of wedding gifts and customs with Worf and enlists Dr Crusher’s assistance in learning to dance. At Chief O’Brien’s request, Data then attempts to convince Keiko to go through with the wedding, but she reacts angrily to his efforts, prompting him to seek advice from Counsellor Troi. She advises Data that Miles and Keiko need to be left alone to resolve the matter themselves. When their conversation brings up the idea that growing old together is a key component of marriage, Data reveals that despite his lack of emotion, he has never ruled out the idea that one day he might marry someone. However, given Data’s inability to age, he would never be able to ‘grow old’ with a spouse.

Data is then summoned by Ambassador T’Pel, who enquires about the Enterprise’s defence systems, but she drops the query when Data mentions he has the same safeguards as the ship’s computers and would be required to notify the Captain. The ambassador claims she was only testing his safeguards, so Data accepts this on the premise that Vulcans do not lie, though on some level he remains suspicious.

Later, Data is taught to dance by Dr Crusher; this initially does not go quite to plan as the doctor teaches Data tap-dancing before he explains that his intent was to learn dances appropriate for the wedding. She then begins to teach Data a slow dance, but this is complicated by Data needing to see Dr Crusher’s feet to emulate her steps, and the lesson is interrupted by a crew member going into labour, requiring Data to finish his lesson with a holographic partner. Data eventually returns to the bridge just before the Enterprise reaches its rendezvous with a Romulan warbird, and the ambassador prepares to beam over to discuss a treaty that would formalise relations between Vulcan and Romulus. However, an accident occurs mid-transport and the ambassador is seemingly killed.

After Captain Picard explains the situation to the Romulans, he orders Data to head up the investigation into the accident. Applying the Holmesian method of deductive reasoning, Data discovers that the Romulans actually beamed the ambassador over to their ship while leaving artificial organic matter in her place; in effect, faking her death to conceal an abduction. Picard orders the Enterprise to intercept the Romulan warbird to try and rescue the ambassador, but when they arrive, they learn the ambassador was actually a Romulan spy in disguise, now returned to her own people. As more warbirds arrive, Picard reluctantly orders the Enterprise to withdraw back to Federation space.

With the crisis over, Data seeks out Keiko to apologise for his interference, only to learn the wedding will take place shortly and he needs to get dressed for it. Keiko and Miles are wed in Ten-Forward with Captain Picard officiating a ceremony based on the Japanese culture. Later, Data seeks out Dr Crusher to thank her for his dance lessons, but instead finds the captain looking in on the baby Dr Crusher delivered while the ship was confronting the Romulans. Finally, Data begins command of the next night watch.

Review:

This episode is the start of the one successful long-term romance in Trek history; from the marriage of Miles and Keiko we get a relationship that runs strong not only for all its remaining appearances in TNG, but also throughout the length of Deep Space Nine when O’Brien was made part of that spin-off’s regular cast. It’s great to see it begin the way it does, because the kind of less-than-perfect romance we see is not only more realistic than if we were seeing two people not fighting or arguing at all, it’s also vital to make a lot of later stories for these characters work. DS9, as I noted when I review that series years ago on Facebook, often did episodes that were known as ‘make O’Brien suffer’ episodes. For that to work, O’Brien had to be every inch an everyman with everyday issues, so his marriage had to be equally down-to-Earth. Otherwise, where’s the shock value in whatever’s traumatising him next?

Of course, the main focus of the episode is Data, and how he deals with the issue of friendship and understanding human behaviour. In his reasoning and actions, the idea of Data as a metaphor for the autistic mind-set comes across brilliantly. I can easily someone on the autistic spectrum like myself making similar social errors to Data in trying to navigate the sudden flare-up in the Miles-Keiko relationship. I say similar because autistic people are not emotionless as Data is, and for those of us “high functioning” (or masking to the nth degree as I think of it) and experienced enough to understand something of tact and diplomacy, we would probably avoid making at least some of these errors.

I’m also very touched by Data revealing his aspiration to one day marry despite his lack of apparent emotion; for autistic people, any form of relationship that goes beyond friendship and into the romantic can be anything from difficult to impossible. The social skills required and time commitments necessary are almost the inter-personal communication equivalent of tackling the tallest mountains in the world, and anyone on the spectrum who gets anywhere in this line has my undying respect and admiration. To see an autistic analogue like Data suggest a desire to one day get as far as marriage, and be treated with acceptance in that regard, is yet another example of Trek at its best.

My only niggle with this episode is that at one point when noting various events occurring aboard the Enterprise, Data mentions the ‘Hindu festival of lights’. Given that humans are supposed to now be an entirely secularist society in the world of Trek, why is any religious occasion of significance on real-life Earth being mentioned as if it’s still an on-going concept? Last I checked, the children on board the Enterprise aren’t going round the crew-quarters trick-or-treating, having Easter egg hunts on the holodecks or hoping for Santa to come down the Jefferies tubes once a year. That being the case, Diwali shouldn’t be getting a mention in that sort of context either. As such, the episode just misses out on top marks and ends up raking in 9 out of 10.

Episode 12: The Wounded

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

While patrolling near Cardassian space, the Enterprise is suddenly attacked by a Cardassian vessel. Captain Picard is able to convince its commander, Gul Macet, to stand down, and learns that Macet's attack was in retaliation for a Federation ship attacking a Cardassian science station two days prior. Picard confirms this with Starfleet; he is told that the starship Phoenix, commanded by Captain Benjamin Maxwell, was responsible and ordered to locate the vessel. Picard invites Gul Macet and two of his officers to come aboard as observers to maintain the fragile peace between the Federation and Cardassia. As the Enterprise looks for signs of the Phoenix, Picard is informed that transporter chief Miles O'Brien was a former crewmember under Maxwell on the Rutledge during the Cardassian war, and invites him to join a briefing with Gul Macet. There, O'Brien reveals he still harbors some resentment for the Cardassians, revealing that Maxwell's family was killed by Cardassians. Gul Macet infers that Maxwell must be out for revenge, but O'Brien denies this.

The Enterprise locates the Phoenix on an intercept course for a Cardassian freighter, but they will not be able to reach it in time. Picard lets Gul Macet relay the position of the Phoenix to a closer Cardassian cruiser, but Maxwell outmaneuvers and destroys both the warship and the freighter, killing over 650 Cardassians across the two vessels.

Shortly thereafter, the Enterprise rendezvouses with the Phoenix, and Maxwell transports aboard, greeting O'Brien as an old friend. Alone, Maxwell asserts to Picard that the Cardassians are re-arming themselves; the science station was a cover for a military base, and the freighters are carrying weapons. Picard admonishes Maxwell for his behaviour unbecoming a Starfleet captain, and gains his assurance that he will pilot the Phoenix directly back to Federation space. However, en route, the Phoenix breaks course towards another freighter. Maxwell is poised to destroy the freighter, demanding that the Federation officers be allowed aboard to see proof of the Cardassians' deception. The Enterprise crew notes that the freighter is equipped with a field that blocks their scans. Picard prepares to fire on the Phoenix to maintain the peace, but O'Brien requests permission to beam over to the Phoenix, using a transporter trick to sneak past its shield, and talk to Maxwell. Aboard the Phoenix, O'Brien and Maxwell reminisce about their time aboard the Rutledge and sing a song from their past. O'Brien is able to convince Maxwell to stand down. Maxwell transfers his command to his first officer and the Phoenix starts its return to Federation space, while Maxwell returns to the Enterprise with O'Brien, confined to quarters pending return to Starfleet.

As the Cardassian observers are returned to their ship, Picard cautions them that while Maxwell's actions may have been improper, his suspicions are not without merit; the so-called "science station" is located in a strategic military position with little scientific value, and the shields on the freighters were specifically designed to block Federation scanning. He cautions Gul Macet that the Federation will be watching the Cardassians very closely in the future.

Review:

For the second time in as many episodes, we get more development of future DS9 fodder. In this case, however, it’s not just about developing Miles O’Brien and his new wife Keiko, though this is a significant part of the episode in terms of Miles. This time, we get the first appearance of the Cardassians, which substantially improves in time for their inclusion in Deep Space Nine, and Marc Alaimo makes a guest appearance as Gul Macet, setting up for his later long-time role in DS9 as the Cardassian arch-villain Gul Dukat. Throw in Bob Gunton of Shawshank Redemption fame and this episode really has some great guest actors in alongside the regular cast.

However, aside from great performances, great guest-cast stars and a lot of fodder being developed for the eventual Deep Space Nine spin-off series, this episode also takes an interesting look at how people react when a war ends and they have to act peacefully with people who they’ve had to view as the enemy for a long time. It’s another of those brilliant moves Trek started to make around this time as Roddenberry became less involved in producing the show due to his failing health. There’s only so far humanity will ever improve, and I think if we’re still having to get into wars in the future, albeit with alien species, we’re going to have the same kind of issues that come up here.

Between the various guest characters, the subject matter gets some interesting exploration; Captain Maxwell is someone so traumatised by the war that he can’t just leave it behind, Gul Macet plays someone feigning a desire to remain at peace while secretly preparing for the next scrap, and then you’ve got O’Brien, who still hates the enemy but for a totally different reason to what you’d expect. While most shows might have put O’Brien’s hatred down to something the Cardassians did, this show did something truly inspired and made O’Brien hate them for what they forced him to do. Nowhere else have I come across someone saying they only hate an enemy because that enemy forced them into committing acts of violence alien to their personal identity. In fact, I think this might even be Trek’s first stab at doing a ‘make O’Brien suffer’ episode even before creating DS9. After all, what could be greater suffering to a gentle man like O’Brien than to be faced by those who forced him to act against that gentle nature?

Honestly, I can’t find a single flaw in this episode, and so for the first time in a while I offer up top marks; 10 out of 10.

Episode 13: Devil’s Due

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise receives a distress call from Dr. Howard Clarke, the leader of a Federation scientific delegation on Ventax II, where the population is in a state of panic, because they are convinced that their world will soon end. After the Enterprise arrives, they rescue Dr. Clarke who brings them up to date. A thousand years ago, according to Ventaxian history, the population entered a Faustian deal with Ardra, their mythology's devil. In exchange for ending wars and restoring the ecological balance, and improving their heavily polluted planet, the population would become the personal slaves of Ardra a thousand years later. As the millennium is about to come to a close, the planet has recently begun experiencing mild earthquakes, as well as seeing images of Ardra. These were said to be signs of her arrival.

As Captain Picard and Lt. Commander Data discuss the matter with the Ventaxian leader, a woman appears in the chamber, announcing herself as Ardra. She demonstrates her identity by starting an earthquake at will, and transforming into the Klingon devil-equivalent Fek'lhr of Gre'Thor. Ardra states that she has come to claim the planet. Picard is instantly suspicious and orders Data to examine the contract that supposedly was signed by Ardra and the leaders of the planet a thousand years earlier. Picard returns to the Enterprise afterwards, and Ardra appears on the bridge, sitting in the Captain's chair. Lt. Worf fails to remove her. Data returns just then and confirms the language of the contract as well as Ardra's claim to the planet and anything in its orbit, including the Enterprise.

Later, in a meeting with the senior staff, Picard expresses his belief that she is a confidence trickster and points out that all of her alleged powers can be recreated with theatrically delivered technology. After the meeting, Picard goes to bed for the evening. As Picard sleeps, Ardra appears and tries to seduce him, but he rejects her. She transports him to the planet dressed in his pyjamas. Data comes to collect Picard by shuttle after Worf is unable to transport him back the normal way. When Picard and Data attempt to return to the Enterprise, the ship disappears. In light of this, they return to the planet.

Citing old legal precedent, Picard calls for a Ventaxian arbitration hearing, to which Ardra agrees, provided Data acts as the arbitrator, as he will act with impartiality. Picard explains to the leader of the planet that the people had actually improved their planet by themselves, through their own gradual hard work, ingenuity, and dedication. However, continued demonstrations of powers further the claim that Ardra is indeed whom she says she is. During the course of the hearing, Chief Engineer La Forge and Clarke discover that Ardra has a cloaked ship nearby, that she is indeed using technology to simulate magic, and that she is a known criminal. Picard sends an away team, led by Commander Riker, to take control of Ardra's ship, giving Picard control of her powers. He demonstrates the technology-based fraud and she is taken into custody by local authorities.

Review:

This is an episode I find fun because among its various plot elements is a bit of a dig at buying too readily into certain aspects of organised religion. Here, we see someone is basically a criminal try to exploit and enslave the population of an entire planet by twisting its beliefs to her own ends. This is not unlike many real-life followers of many, many religions that will twist those religions to excuse and fuel bigoted and divisive viewpoints, often leading many to assume they are a true reflection of that faith when they are not. Frankly, I think many people ‘of faith’ could learn a valuable lesson about taking care to really learn their religion to avoid just this sort of deception by watching this episode.

However, the episode is really meant to be more about how technology can appear to be magic if it is sufficiently advanced, and to be fair it’s a fun exploration of that idea. However, the same thing was done the season before with ‘Who Watches The Watchers’, and it’s also been used with greater theatricality by the Marvel Cinematic Universe to explain the likes of Thor and Doctor Strange in an otherwise science-based superhero action universe. By and large, the idea of ‘believer beware’ seems to hold the greater weight than the intended focus, and it’s got some decent comic relief-type moments in places.

However, I disagree with the assessment some others have made that the episode is somehow ‘Picard trying to act like Kirk’. Kirk, being the degenerate woman-of-the-week phaser-happy space cowboy that he was, would more likely have given into Ardra and then stunned her with a phaser when proving her deception. Picard acts like Picard from his resistance to Ardra right up to the court-room scene. There’s nothing all that Kirkian about this episode, even though it originated as an unproduced story from that era, and to believe otherwise is to be as gullible as the Ventaxians. Overall, I give this episode about 8 out of 10.

Episode 14: Clues

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise investigates a T Tauri class star system with a single Class M planet that was picked up on a long-range sensor scan near the Ngame Nebula. As they approach the planet, the ship encounters a wormhole and everyone except Lt. Commander Data briefly loses consciousness. When the crew regains consciousness, some of the ship's sensors suggest it has been nearly a day since the wormhole encounter, but Data states they were only out for moments and the ship's instruments were affected by the wormhole. Following Data's suggestion, Captain Picard decides to send a probe into the system to avoid further harm to the ship. The probe reports only the presence of a frozen gas giant instead of the Class M planet from before; again, Data attributes this to the effects of the wormhole.

As the ship moves away from the system, the crew begin to find evidence that does not support Data's claims that they were unconscious for only 30 seconds. For example, Dr Crusher has found moss samples that show a full day of growth, and has found that Worf, complaining of a sore wrist, actually had his wrist broken and reset by a medical professional. Picard begins to suspect Data's claims, and believes the rest of the crew is suffering from missing time syndrome. Picard confronts Data on the issue, but Data cannot provide a rational answer. Further studies of the crew by Dr Crusher show that Data's explanations are impossible; they have lost a day from the wormhole encounter, and there is evidence that Data tampered with the probe's readings to mask the Class M planet. Picard recognizes that Data's actions may be for the protection of the Enterprise, but orders the ship to return to the system.

When they near the Class M planet, ounsellor Troi is taken over by a mysterious energy pulse from the system, and starts to speak to the crew with a different voice. The entity that has taken over Troi informs Data that the plan has failed, and that their people will prepare to destroy the Enterprise. Picard learns from Data and the entity that they are in the space of the Paxans, a highly advanced but very xenophobic race who have kept themselves hidden by firing a stun beam at any ship that nears their system and then moving it away; crews of such ships normally associate it with the effects of a wormhole. However, in the case of the Enterprise, the stun beam did not affect Data; Data had revived the crew as the Paxans were attempting to move the ship, and forcing a physical encounter that led to Worf's wrist being broken. Picard was able to offer the Paxans a deal as to attempt to conceal their previous meeting, using memory-wiping technology from the Paxans to forget their encounters with them, and ordered Data to behave as he did to protect the ship.

Picard is able to convince the Paxan in control of Troi that the previous plan failed because they left too many clues on the Enterprise that piqued human curiosity to solve the mystery and that if the Enterprise vanishes, it will cause others to come investigate. The crew of the Enterprise, with the help of the Paxans, work together to completely eradicate any possible clues; once completed, the crew is stunned again, and the ship moves away from Paxan space. When the crew revives this time, they accept Data's explanations without question and continue on their mission.

Review:

In addition to this episode having a lot of similarity to ‘Thanks for the Memory’, an episode from the second series of British sit-com Red Dwarf, it’s also notable for bringing us a little more Picard-as-Dixon-Hill. However, in this case only in the opening teaser segment is Picard doing this as a fantasy on the holodeck. The rest of the episode has Picard, and indeed most of the crew, playing detective in the ‘real world’, making the episode a kind of exploration of the human fascination with mysteries and puzzle-solving. It’s not a bad episode, by any means, but it’s fairly shallow in its issue exploration, and the whole alien possession thing near the end is kind of a needless bit of weirdness. This was a bottle episode, granted, but would one guest actor in a bit of prosthetics really have killed the budget compared with the visual effect they used? Overall, I’d give this 7 out of 10.

Episode 15: First Contact

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The humanoid race of Malcor III is preparing to develop warp drive technology. Captain Picard and Counsellor Troi suddenly visit Science Minister Mirasta Yale, lead researcher on their warp experiments. They calm her and explain that they come in peace. It is normal Federation policy to make first contact with a world when it reaches this level of technology. However, they have had to move ahead of schedule because Commander Riker, disguised as a Malcorian, has gone missing. After touring the Enterprise, Mirasta agrees to help and arranges a private meeting with Chancellor Durken. After the meeting, Picard returns with Durken to the Enterprise and explains the benefits of a relationship with the Federation. Durken expresses some concerns, most notably with the Federation's unwillingness to share their technology, as well as how their arrival will change his society. Picard assures him that how contact proceeds will be up to him, and if asked to leave, the Federation will do so.

Meanwhile, Riker has been detained by security forces in a hospital, where he is barely conscious following an accident. Differences in Riker's physiology make the hospital administrator believe that he is an extra-terrestrial. Riker is aided in his escape by a nurse who expresses her wish to "make love with an alien". Riker accepts her offer, but the escape attempt fails: he is spotted, and the guards catch and beat him, worsening his condition. Riker's presence at the hospital is reported to Security Minister Krola, who accuses Durken of hiding the truth about the "alien" presence. The Chancellor expresses his concerns to Picard about the Federation's covert intrusions, but accepts Picard's explanation of why the Federation does this. Krola, fearing a hostile invasion by the Federation, endangers Riker's health by reviving him prematurely so he may be interrogated. He tries to frame Riker as a murderer by shooting himself with Riker's phaser. Meanwhile, Durken is made aware that Riker is in danger of dying and tells Picard where he is. The Enterprise crew bring both Riker and Krola back to the ship. They are able to save Riker's life, and discover that his phaser was only set to stun, so Krola was in no real danger.

After Krola is returned to the planet, Durken regretfully tells Picard that he feels Malcor is not ready for first contact. He fears his people are not mature enough to handle the startling announcement that they are not alone in the universe. He requests that the Enterprise leave the planet, in hopes that they may be able to return at a later time. He agrees to delay Malcor's development of warp drive technology until its people are ready. With Mirasta's project postponed, she asks Picard if she can join his crew, and Picard agrees.

Review:

Apparently, this episode was only possible by breaking one of the ‘rules’ of Star Trek established by Roddenberry, namely that episodes always take place primarily from the point-of-view of the main cast. This time, however, the episode takes the point-of-view of the alien race who is being approached by the Federation as they reach the point of warp travel. It’s a great episode, and not only because of the superb guest actors (including George Coe, who had a notable guest presence in The West Wing as Senator Howard Stackhouse, and Bebe Neuwirth who played Lilith in Cheers and Fraiser). It’s also great because it’s the first look at not only how first contact missions actually happen, but the point-of-view of the aliens is probably not too dissimilar to how humanity would act right now if we were ever in that situation.

The episode runs the gamut of possible reactions; the positive reaction of the forward-thinking scientist, the negative and regressive attitude of the xenophobic and paranoid security minister, the even-handed and considered approach of the head of state, and everything from general panic to alien kink among the general population. Right down to the whole thing ending up being dismissed as a conspiracy theory while social reforms are brought in to try and enlighten the population, it all says ‘yes, this is just how humanity would react in that same situation’.

For me, all that spoils this episode is that bit where the alien nurse seduces Riker and he agrees. I mean come on Will; I know you’re the one member of the TNG crew who is frequently obligated to act like Kirk and have a woman-of-the-week moment every chance you get, but frankly I think it would have been more appropriate to go for a low phaser stun burst on her and the guard, then hop in the guard’s uniform and slip out. Overall score here is about 8 out of 10.

4 notes · View notes

mistymuichirou · 5 years ago

Note

👋Hey there, just found ur blog and I really like lt. you mentioned you write letters in ur rules but I see that you haven't written any yet so I'm not sure if you'd write this... If you don't mind, can I ask for a letter from Rengoku to his s/o who's going through bullying (and has suicidal tendencies if you are fine w/ it). Sorry for troubling you with this negativity but I feel like I just need this rn. It's totally understandable and ok if you don't wanna do this req, keep it up w/ ur blog!

I wasn't planning to write this week due to my exams but I wrote this as quickly as I could once I saw the ask. Please don't apologise, there is nothing wrong with it! I feel that while it is good that bullying, as a topic, is getting more awareness these days, it's getting increasingly difficult to detect if someone is actually getting bullied since many bullying happening now are very subtle... Still, I hope you feel better and if you need anyone to talk to, I'm always open! Also, thank you for supporting me! 💕

𝓡. 𝓚𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓳𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓾

🎐

My dear (L. Name),

How have you been? I'm sorry for being unable to be with you right now to walk you through your struggles. Are you getting bullied in school? Perhaps in work? It may be the first time you are experiencing this, or it may have happened before. Still, I understand that it does not make the situation any easier and it gets tiring.

If you can, do me a favor and give yourself some alone time, don't think about any troubles... Think about all the times someone made you happy, the times that I made you happy. There may not be much, but they are still there! Don't you want to experience more of those happy moments? Then don't give up, it's not easy but start slow and just one day, you may be able to get through this tough time!

You have to understand that getting through bullying does not necessarily mean that you have to always be able to stand up to them. Confrontations are difficult so ignore those bullies as much as you can. Of course, that means ignoring what they have to say to you as well. It's tough but as you start to focus on yourself, and less on others, you'll start to realise how you are the only one who can define who you really are! Don't torture yourself over people that don't even bother to try to get to know you better in the first place.

Last but not least my dear, seek help as quickly as possible. Tell people whom you trust about it. Never think that it is useless and it won't help. Knowing that they are always here for you can bring a greater sense of comfort and security than you may know! If not, tell me. I am ready to hear you speak at any time, regardless of what it's about. I will always be here for you, stay strong!

Love,

Kyoujurou

Published: 1 Mar 2020

#kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kny imagines #kimetsu no yaiba letters #kny letters #demon slayer letters #demon slayer rengoku #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #kny rengoku

39 notes · View notes

at-the-exd-of-everythixg · 5 years ago

Note

][Mahogany and Rhys for ship headcanon meme][ 1 || 2 || 4 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 11 || 12 || 14 || 16 || 18 || 22 || 23 || 25 || 28 || 29

@blind-mutant

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Mahogany does! They bring Rhys a bunch of rats and flowers and flowers with rats buried between them. They took some creative liberties.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Rhys is since he's considerably smaller, weaker and Mahogany is so clear sighted about what they want in life. Mahogany can usually smell these moods from him and it immediately calls for some good Wendigo cuddles and aggressive rolling in the nest and cooing over how smart and how tricky Rhys is. Worst comes to worst??? Sex.

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Mahogany since they had to be told to be aware of their personal space when they and Rhys first met. But when he let's them touch him freely? Holding his hand, hugging him, carrying him when they can and kissing Rhys is the best! They get huffy if they can't touch him at least once lt twice an hour.

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

Oof uhhh,,,,if they were to find and know a more friendly other wendigo then probably them but I also imagine that if Rhys had someone he wanted to keep around and introduce to Mahogany then they would accept that person into their pack and be happy to take care of their new mate. Ngl if Rhys talks 'bout Blue then I imagine Mahogany silently considers her part of the pack when they smell how sad and in love Rhys was.

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

Well, mostly just sneaking about to get meat but Mahogany likes wandering about places at night and crawling along walls and overall seeming creepy. They like looking into windows and staring at sleeping people which,,,,Rhys slowly nods at that and just gets them to the nearest park or forest where they demand to know how playgrounds work and Rhys, a full grown man I guess, has to slide down a small plastic child's slide so his 6'9 lover can nod and clap.

8. What do they like in bed?

Rhys loves it when they bite him and wrap their arms around him to tug him closer to hold him close as they lift him up. He likes overall reminders that they can crush him yet he's the only one who can put his fingers in their mouth and be completely safe.

Mahogany loves it when Rhys bites them too and they love it when Rhys is always a bit rough, like forcefully spreading their legs or tugging their hair when he's feeling so good. They like having their attention on him. Oh and eating him out.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Rhys tried to hunt with Mahogany but couldn't even catch a running squirrel before he slid off a steep edge and fell into a river. Mahogany fished him out and caught a bird in midair. He sulked in the bath for hours.

Mahogany isn't ever really embarrassed by stuff? But one time they went out in nothing but Rhys's shirt and wondered why he had suddenly raced after them, red faced and trying to apologise to a woman as he patted their bare butt back into the motel. He laughed tho when they asked if he was going to slap it more.

11. What do they hide from one another?

Rhys hides a surprisingly big amount, both small and large issues due to the fact that Mahogany acts on heart rather than thinking. He doesn't want them to know how someone had called him a freak earlier or that he wasn't a wendigo. I feel like Rhys often manipulates Mahogany for their safety and that even includes a time he told them that it was dangerous to go outside when maybe it wasn't really??

Mahogany often hides stuff that has happened to them or about the Wendigo history. Rhys hardly knows anything about their kind and he doesn't know about certain incidents like how someone tried to attack them earlier. They see no reason to worry their mate and they don't want Rhys to get upset like he always does if someone may be leaving gifts for Mahogany and always leaves the smell of a potential mate around.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Mahogany beings to get extra protective and officially starts calling Rhys their mate as well as trusting him entirely while Rhys officially starts to get worried at times for their hunts and becomes a lot more receptive to Magni bringing him gifts and their more possessive touches.

A bad side is Rhys becomes more stern on bath times and crying doesn't work anymore to make him soften up ;_;.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Mahogany panics and goes on a wide range stealing episode of getting as many clothes as they can to add to the nest. Curls up around Rhys to keep him cool or even wears more clothes if they're too cold for him. Whines and cries since they obviously think he's dying and if I'm honest, I wouldn't put it last Mahogany to get a human or a mutant to try and make him better. Spends most of the time crying and pressing their face against his to try and breath in his illness and take it away.

Mahogany is so confused when they get sick but it's in the summer and they can't keep anything down at all and start bloating. Probably tries to carry on as normal but Rhys has to be stern and make them lay in the nest. Like Pascal, an ice bath is needed and having to put their hair up while telling them fairy tales as they cry and sneeze repeatedly. Mahogany probably refuses to eat and only does when Rhys begs them and even then its slowly licking/drinking/slurping some watered down chicken soup he got for them.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

Oh god, Mahogany is in heaven. They get to eat people??? And not get yelled at??? Rhys undoubtedly has a breakdown or two but Mahogany is loving being able to play about with zombies and they're actually kinda chubby in this verse due to eating so much. I imagine it's a 50/50 of people wanting to be near or away from the pale mutant who is technically dating a form of zombie and honestly there's a point where Rhys probably has to have Mahogany wear a collar so others feel safe. Overall? They do pretty well! Especially with Mahogany's hunting.

But oh man scremaing has ensured at there being some sort of wendigo-zombie apocalypse. Mahogany suddenly being surrounded by forms of their own kind??? Angst.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

Rhys apologises and it depends where they are because his apologies range from sex to getting them meat and a story. Most of the time he has to wait an hour or two because Mahogany wants to sulk and they have their hair spiked up around them to ensure he can't get near. And growling. They look like a sea bunny slug when they're mad so all he can do is sit near and wait for grumpy snuffling as they eat their meat and lick his fingers.

Mahogany hunts for Rhys and depending on how big the fight was is now big the animal is going to be. A small scuff? A rabbit. A big screamer? Mahogany drags a moose through the door and I mean. One of those fucking huge ones. They're bleeding but it's worth it to see Rhys's face when they drop it in front of Rhys and offer love making and bath times.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

Well, technically when they first had sex on that surprise thread we did but I'm also soft at the idea of them kissing in an apple orchid because Mahogany heard that Rhys was hungry so they just....broke in and took him apple picking aka lifting him up to trees to get apples while listening out for the owners and whoop Rhys is turning around to kiss them and oh their hips are wiggling and they're chuffing loud enough to alert people better run!

23. Where is their favourite place to be together?

Anywhere with nature! Rhys probably learns to love it so much when he associates it as the safest place where Mahogany likes cuddling and rolling in the snow and swimming with him in quarries during the summer. Also having sex up against trees is great for details I probably should not get too deep into here.

25. Why do they fight?

Mahogany is rather protective and gets huffy when they can't kill humans who hurt Rhys, despite whether he agrees with it or not most of the time. He also needs to worry about how little care they give when going out to hunting and the harm they do to themselves.

A bigger issue is probably over how insistent Mahogany gets over Rhys becoming a wendigo because they see how mutants get treated and their Rhys is a mutant, so what if he gets treated badly? They get anxious and huffy more over it, desperate for their mate to be safe for good.

28. Why do they get jealous?

Mahogany gets jealous of anyone who dares goes near their mate with lustful smells. But then Mahogany just has to make Rhys smell more like them and cover him in more bites so he cannot be mistaken as free mate for anyone at all. He belongs to someone and that someone is staring angrily through a window and yeah you better slowly back away and ask why there's a tall naked person pressing up against the glass and snarling and good Rhys better be running back quickly to not let an imprint of a vulva stain the glass. Rhys is too good and too wonderful and no one should take their mate but Mahogany.

Rhys would 100% freak out and I'm laughing at that freaking out if Mahogany starts getting meat left for them and smelling arousal everywhere. Huffy gremlin man when he hears a pleased chirp as Mahogany gazes at the honeycomb pieces that got left for them and honestly I'm too invested in the idea of a mysterious creature flirting with Mahogany and Rhys just "seriously??? I get an undead - last of the species probably - lover and yet someone better still comes along??" Shshnsns

It has just occured to me that maybe this question means what they may be jealous of each other oh boy. But yeah uh, Mahogany is always jealous of how good Rhys is with human stuff and how smart he is. He always has to clean up their messes and he much better at general life stuff than them while I think Rhya would be jealous at Mahogany capabilities and how unafraid they are to get what they want and their openness.

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Mahogany falls in love with how Rhys just...accepts them how he's the only one who doesn't seem to care as much about what they are. They adore how sweet he is and how easily Rhys goes along with whatever they do and how darling he is about the way they think.

Rhys falls more for just how dedicated Mahogany is for everything about him. Rhys wants food? They're going out to hunt. Rhys wants to feel warm, awkwardly dragging blankets over him. He also likes their refreshing views and how Mahogany sees him as perfect and wonderful to be unique. They hear the phase "best thing since sliced bread" and immediately say that Rhys is better.

#ask #blind-mutant #headcanon #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany)#skksksks i love the idea of Mahogany getting Rhys a fucking big moose one day #wanna know his face and reaction dndnndnd

6 notes · View notes