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faulty-writes · 2 years

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[ What's this? A new character has appeared! Yup, this is my first Kugo Sakamata aka Gang Orca piece! Now, if you've been following my blog for a while then you already know that on occasion I get inspired by the weirdest of things. This one-shot was inspired by this gif of Princess Peach with her parasol and when I saw it, the image of Gang Orca catching someone floating down by their parasol entered my mind so I had to write a piece based on that. Also, I have a little thing for this whale man and I hope it satisfies the rest of you Gang Orca lovers too! ]

[ Having a parent who happens to be a pro hero is hard, but being the child of Sir Nighteye is even harder, especially when he continuously dismisses your passion for inventing and support gear. Now he's planning to leave for a month to go to America and despite the fact you're an adult, he assigns Kugo to watch over you. How will you survive a month with the Killer Whale Hero? ]

You looked at him completely puzzled. “W-what?” you replied only to hear him sigh in response. He pressed two fingers to his forehead, obviously frustrated. You knew from experience that your father otherwise known as Sir Nighteye wasn’t a man that liked repeating himself.

He believed tasks once given should be carried out immediately and efficiently. The same applied to any piece of information, when one speaks you should listen and retain said information and only question it when there was an obvious logical error.

“Y/n, I will not repeat myself,” he stated in his normal deep and authoritative tone making you frown. “B-but…” you frantically shifted your eyes back and forth, trying to come up with a logical argument that would deter him from doing what he just told you he was going to.

“I’m an adult! I don’t need anyone to babysit me while you’re away in America!” you exclaimed, but as expected he turned his back to you and ignored your behavior. You growled, watching him take out his phone to call someone.

You marched behind him, disregarding the fact that his phone was now pressed against his ear, and exclaimed “Dad!” He froze and slowly turned his head, glaring at you. “Y/n,” he said, pulling the phone away from his ear and covering the speaker just in case the opposite party answered.

You managed to glance at the screen, feeling some dread when you noticed he was calling Toshinori Yagi otherwise known as All Might. You knew years and years ago that your father was All Might’s sidekick but surely he wouldn’t be bothering the man to ask him to babysit his adult child, right?

Then again, your father was as stubborn as he was smart. “Please leave this room, it’s rude to eavesdrop,” you growled again, stomping your foot against the floor. “Fine!” you hissed through clenched teeth and promptly turned to leave as requested.

“I’ll be in my room working on my inventions, not that you ever let me follow my passion,” you muttered under your breath before slamming the door and walking down the hall and to your bedroom. It was fairly large with all the necessary furniture and you even had your own bathroom.

On the other side of the room was a wall that had various tools hanging on it and in front of the said wall was a large table filled with blueprints, screws, scraps of metal, and some unfinished inventions. Sighing, you approached and pulled out your work stool to sit on.

Yes, this was your passion. Not just creating support gear, but inventions of all sorts. You smiled, shifting your gaze to an umbrella rack that was sitting on the floor next to your table and the single parasol that rested inside of it.

The upper portion of it was white while the lower half was light pink, and the frill that surrounded the edges of it was a darker shade of pink. While some might question the color scheme, you thought it made it look more appealing as it wasn’t just any ordinary parasol.

You had designed it for self-protection and safety in the event that someone jumped or fell from a dangerous height. The panel of it was made out of a special fabric that helped magnify the magnetic field that was generated from the shaft and distributed out of the ferrule or end tip.

In other words, it allowed someone to cushion their fall when descending from a certain altitude by manipulating the force of gravity through the said generated magnetic field which would allow them to safely “levitate” through the air.

You had tweaked it a few times to lessen the generated strength by doing some calculations on the average weight of a human being so the parasol could in theory allow someone to slowly float down to the ground as opposed to “levitate.” Of course, it was only a prototype and you weren't finished conducting test trials yet.

But you had confidence that it would work no matter what, yet your smile faded when you turned back to your worktable. With your father’s strict views on anything even remotely related to heroism or support gear, it was unlikely that your inventions would see the light of day.

Still, you took pride in your work even if no one but yourself or potential close friends could benefit from it. “Hm, are you certain he’ll be a good candidate to watch Y/n?” Mirai asked, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

He was planning to spend a month in America with Toshinori, to be more specific the two of them were going to I-Island to discuss an urgent matter and he was relying on the former number one hero to give him recommendations on who could be trusted to watch over you while he was gone.

“Yeah,” Toshinori replied, leaning back in his chair. “He’s done a few favors for Yuuei, including playing the part of the villain for the provisional licensing exam and according to Present Mic he likes kids,” he paused, somewhat hesitating to speak his next words.

“Although Y/n isn’t a child...I’m sure he wouldn’t be opposed to looking after them,” then again maybe he shouldn't give any regard as to how Mirai would respond to his words. “I see,” he was more than willing to trust whatever Toshinori said and seemingly ignored his comment about you not being a child.

“I’ll get in contact with him tomorrow,” although he was already thinking of another plan if this one fell through considering it was extremely difficult for a hero to alter their schedule on such short notice. “Thank you All Might, remember to pack accordingly for our trip,” Toshinori nodded despite Mirai not being able to see him.

“Of course,” he replied before hanging up, he knew that Mirai was always a stickler for the rules but he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. Being the child of a hero was bad enough, but being the child of a perfectionist that used to be a sidekick for a hero was even worse.

He sighed, looking toward the ceiling. “I just hope Y/n turns out a little better,” although he knew that the man had something special planned for you, and if it turned out well then you wouldn’t have to hide your talent any longer.

You remained locked in your room for the next few days, dreading when your father would finally leave and an unfamiliar person would come to watch you, not that you needed a babysitter. Although you could rule out that All Might wasn't going to be watching you after learning that he was also going to America with your father.

The day before your father was scheduled to depart, you finally emerged from your room and stumbled into the kitchen looking rather disgruntled. Your hair was a mess, and there were visible bags underneath your eyes.

Mirai was sitting at the kitchen table, with a pile of papers in front of him. One hand was busy crunching numbers on a calculator while the other was shifting through the said pile of papers. He paused and lifted his head, watching you walk to the kitchen counter where the coffee machine sat.

“I believed I advised against staying up working on your inventions,” he said, making you roll your eyes. “Why do you care? My inventions never meant anything to you,” pouring yourself a cup of caffeinated goodness, you walked over to the table and took the seat opposite your father.

He stared at you for a minute or two before he resumed working. “Why don’t you visit the Okuto Island Aquarium today?” you nearly dropped your coffee causing the scolding liquid to spill over your fingers. “...fuck…” you hissed under your breath, seeing as your father was against such language.

He paused yet again, narrowing his eyes on you. “Pardon?” he asked, ignoring the loud clank that came when you lowered your coffee mug onto the table. “Nothing, nothing!” you said, getting up from your seat and running your now tender fingers underneath cold water before wiping them dry.

“Y/n,” he said in that all too familiar ‘tell me now’ tone. You groaned and lightly slammed your fists onto the kitchen counter before sitting down once more. You shrugged and asked, “Why did you mention the aquarium?” he glanced back down, and the sound of his fingers hitting the calculator keys resumed.

“I recall you enjoyed going to the Okuto Island Aquarium,” you perched your lips, looking at him with an expression that read ‘seriously?’ before carefully taking a sip of your coffee. “When I was a kid I did…” you muttered in reply.

“Go to the Okuto Island Aquarium,” he demanded flatly, ignoring the way you rolled your eyes for the second time. “What are you even doing?” you asked, pointing to the papers in front of him. “Ensuring that the bills are paid during the month I’ll be away,” you blew a raspberry and propped your elbow onto the table.

Cradling your cheek in the palm of your hand, you thought ‘Of course, he’d do that,’ before shifting your gaze to the window above the sink. Maybe it would be nice to visit the aquarium. The trip to Okuto Island where said aquarium was located was no easy feat considering it was an island that was miles and miles from mainland Japan.

But the train and boat ride gave you time to think, tomorrow your father would be gone and you’d have to spend a month with a stranger or so you assumed. Your father had many connections, most of which were hero students and pro heroes.

It was unlikely that he’d trust a hero student to watch you, so that meant you could safely assume he was dragging a pro hero away from their busy schedule which was embarrassing, or at least you thought so. When would he actually see you as an adult and trust you could handle being on your own?

You expected at least a few things to have changed since the last time you visited but the main entrance to the aquarium looked the same as you remember. The archway was the same blue color and had the same painting of a school of fish swimming through the coral reef on it.

In addition, the name of the aquarium remained hanging in the center of said archway. Walking inside, you were immediately greeted with a circular hallway made out of glass which revealed the many fish, plants, sharks, and so on going about their business in their watery environment.

“Hm,” you walked to one side, admiring the fish swimming by before continuing forward. The first room after the circular hallway was large and the walls were painted a pale blue. It also had three separate passageways and each one had a large sign hanging above it describing where it led.

The room itself was crowded with adults and children alike. “Hm…” looking over the three passageways, you read each sign carefully. You could either go to the Land Area, Penguin Colony, or the Marine Mammal Center. Tapping your chin, you thought over your choices before settling for the Marine Mammal Center.

The passageway was a little darker than you thought, and you almost fell when you ran into a set of concrete steps. Shaking it off, you carefully walked up said steps and smiled when you reemerged and looked around. There were large pools of water surrounded by fences, but something in the distance caught your attention.

It looked like a large statue of a whale tail and an equally as large pool of water surrounded by a steel gate. Several people were standing around said gate and this was enough to pique your curiosity, so you began walking toward it. Once there, you squeezed your way to the front of the crowd.

“Excuse me, pardon!” you said, ignoring a few angry parents. You stumbled once you got to the front and looked into the large pool of water to see a killer whale swimming about. “Oh wow,” you said before everyone began to cheer, startling you in the process.

You picked your head up, seeing the most unusual sight. A tall, muscular man was walking onto the platform that was positioned in front of the whale tail statue. What was shocking was the fact that he had the features of the very same creature swimming in the water.

You couldn’t quite make out his facial features, but you took notice of the outfit he was wearing. It looked to be a white suit with a high collar that went all the way up to his chin, he had what looked to be teeth around said collar and the pink tie he was wearing almost looked like a tongue.

He had a strange cape over his back that looked like it blended in with his head considering it too resembled a killer whale. Was he a part of the show too or was he the trainer? He raised his arms and announced, “The show will begin now!” and you leaned back, replaying the sound of his voice in your head.

It was deep and had a certain growl to it like he was aggravated but you knew that couldn’t possibly be the case, especially with how the crowd responded. Cheers and whistles echoed so loud your ears began to ring and just as quickly, the man exclaimed “Quiet!” and the crowd fell silent.

He turned so he was facing the large body of water and with the wave of his hand, the killer whale lapped around the tank once. “Hm,” you frowned, noting that such a thing wasn’t exactly impressive. Then the man moved his hand to the left and the whale swam to the center of the pool of water.

The man raised his hand into the air, making some odd motions with his fingers, and seconds later the whale jumped out of the water only to crash back down creating a massive splash. The crowd clapped furiously, and you had to admit there was something satisfying about watching any sea creature jump out and back into the water.

Then he motioned the whale forward and you watched in slight amazement as the whale slid onto the platform where the man stood and tilted its head back on command. After receiving an affectionate rubbing from its dorsal fin to its blowhole, it slithered back into the water.

What the man did next somewhat shocked you, he ran and jumped into the water with the large creature. Thanks to his quirk, he could swim with such agility and speed, and it was a wonder to watch him. However, the actual killer whale swam behind him and when the man disappeared under the water the whale did too.

“Huh?” you leaned over, watching as the two circled one another underneath the water. Then the whale used its snout to lift the man through the surface, balancing him while it continued to swim and you could only watch this display with wide curious eyes.

The man simply spread his arms out while the crowd went wild. Then the whale lowered him back underneath the water and the next time they emerged the man was sitting behind the whale's dorsal fin and proceeded to round the tank waving to everyone he passed by.

However, you noticed he paused subtly when he passed you and turned his head as the whale continued to carry him around the perimeter of the pool. Although it was hard to tell what expression was on his face, you sensed he was acting as if he recognized you.

Grasping onto the metal bar that belonged to the fence surrounding the massive body of water, you locked your gaze on him and activated your quirk. Your eyes changed from white to black much like your father’s, but the only difference was that your irises turned white as opposed to purple.

Yes, you had not inherited your father’s ability of foresight. Rather you possessed a heightened sense of empathy, and when your quirk was activated you were able to see the emotions of an individual in various colors which allowed you to predict what possible actions they would perform next.

Although this wasn’t easy considering there were multiple colors or “auras” that surrounded an individual and said multiple colors related to a variety of emotions. Even so, the strongest emotion was usually the most vibrant of color.

When looking at the man, you noticed that among the various hues of red, blue, and purple, gray seemed to stand out the most which indicated self-doubt or uncertainty. ‘Okay…that’s a little weird,’ you thought, shrugging it off as him mistaking you for someone else and enjoying the rest of the show.

When it was finally over, you leaned against the fence deciding to wait until it was a little less crowded to leave. After a couple of minutes, you decided that you wanted to see the Penguin Colony but as you made your way to the exit, someone stopped you.

“Uh, is everything alright?” you asked them, wondering if perhaps you were going the wrong way. They shook their head and approached, making you take a step back. “Sakamata-san has requested your presence,” you knitted your brows and blinked a few times.

“I…sorry, w-who is that?” you asked, obviously confused. “The director of the aquarium,” they answered, only adding to your confusion. “Please follow me,” they motioned with their hand before walking away. “Uh…okay?” you said, shrugging as you followed behind them.

They led you through several hallways and took a few sharp turns before arriving at an oversized door. Knocking on it gently, they said “Sir, they’re here,” and a few seconds passed before you heard a semi-familiar voice respond.

“Send them in,” it said, and a shiver ran down your spine. That voice was just as deep and held the same growl as the man that had performed the killer whale show and looked at you as if he knew you. “Yes sir!” with that, they opened the door and bowed.

“Oh uh…thanks?” you said, waving them goodbye before hesitantly stepping through the door. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw who was sitting at the desk on the other side of the room and came to an immediate stop.

It was the same man from before, although he was missing his cape and tie and his clothes remained soaked. More specifically, you could see through a portion of his white suit. While the collar of it seemed to be dry, looking at the sleeves of it you could see his dark skin underneath and his muscular arms.

He propped his elbows onto the table and folded his hands together. That’s when you noticed that his fingers appeared to curve and form claw-like tips unless those were his fingernails. It was hard to decipher, but your thoughts were shattered when he spoke.

“Shut the door behind you,” his words made you jump and your heart began to race. “H-huh?” you responded before realizing what he had said. “O-oh, right!” you cursed yourself for stuttering, but turned around and shut the door as requested.

Your cheeks began to flush, why did you get embarrassed so easily? You frowned and furrowed your brow seconds later when you heard him clear his throat. “Huh?” you glanced back, realizing that he probably did that to get your attention.

Quickly turning around, you looked at him and then at the floor in hopes he didn’t see that you were blushing. “S-sorry,” you muttered, folding your hands in front of you. He leered at you a moment before lifting one hand in the air.

“Come here,” he softly commanded, motioning you forward. “Hm?” lifting your head, you found yourself hesitating but knew it would be rude not to do as he asked. Once you were in front of his desk, you noticed the facial details you were struggling to make out earlier.

He had red colored pupils that stood out against the several white rings that surrounded his eyes and you couldn’t decide if that made him look approachable or just plain scary. “Sit down,” he said, now gesturing to the chairs that were to the left and right of his desk.

You latched onto your lip, feeling your cheeks grow just a touch warmer, and said nothing when you sat down in one of the mentioned chairs. Kugo folded his hands on his desk once more, glancing over at you carefully.

He was more than certain you were Mirai’s child, after all the man had informed him that you’d be paying a visit to his aquarium today. However, there was only one way to confirm this information. “You’re Sir Nighteye’s child, correct?” you jumped in your seat, looking at him bewildered.

“I…h-how did you know that?” you questioned, impolitely pointing your finger at him. “Wait…a-are you…” Kugo looked at you with narrowed eyes, already assuming what you were going to say. So he nodded. “I am Killer Whale Hero: Gang Orca,” he announced, ignoring your dropped jaw.

“Your father asked me to watch over you starting tomorrow, I believed it would be pleasant to get acquainted before that day,” slowly you closed your mouth, feeling a certain anger burn deep inside of you. This…THIS is who your father picked to watch you!?

“I…I’m sorry!” you suddenly exclaimed, frantically standing up from your seat. “I h-have to go,” you said, folding your hands in front of you and bowing. Kugo tilted his head, scratching the side of his temple as you scurried out the door.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon,” he concluded standing up from his desk and turning to look out the window wall behind him. He watched the citizens below walking this way and that and in the distance, he could see the killer whales and dolphins splashing in their respective areas.

In the back of his mind, he contemplated giving Mirai a call but ultimately decided it was not his place to do so. How you reacted toward your father based on the information he gave you was not his responsibility and family matters were only to be handled between the respected members of said family.

Yet, he couldn’t help but scratch his head again. “I hope this won’t interfere with anything,” it would be a shame if he started off on the wrong foot with you. By the time you returned home, the sun was setting. But that didn’t mean your anger had lessened any and you let that be known when you slammed open the front door.

“Why did you choose Gang Orca to watch me while you’re away!?” you demanded only to realize you had interrupted your father who was previously having a conversation with Toshinori before you barged in. “O-oh uh…” your expression dropped and once again you felt embarrassed.

You didn’t even know what to say, it’s not like you expected anyone but your father to be here at your house. You glanced down, noticing that several suitcases were surrounding both of the men, and nervously chuckled when you looked back up. “Uh, s-sorry!�� you said, mostly apologizing because of the present company.

“I-I’ll be upstairs…heh…heh,” you nervously pointed to the staircase that led up to the second floor but paused halfway when your father uttered your name. “I expect better behavior from you,” he said, reaching up to adjust his glasses and ignoring the growl that came from you.

Turning around, you pointed your finger at him and opened your mouth, ready to tell him off. But, Toshinori spoke up first. “It’s alright Sasaki,” he said, holding up his hand. “I should be going anyway, I’ll see you in the morning,” Mirai frowned, but nodded a few seconds later.

“Very well, please come this way,” he said, walking Toshinori over to the door you had slammed open just moments earlier. “Thanks, have a goodnight,” the older man said before looking at you, nodding his head. “Mm…” you waved him goodbye and as soon as the door shut you said “Well?” and crossed your arms.

Mirai turned, staring at you with that all too familiar gaze you had grown to know throughout the years. Sighing, you brought your arms out to your sides. “Gang Orca!?” you screamed, stomping your foot against the step you were currently standing on.

“Why did you choose Gang Orca!?” he slumped his shoulders and looked away from you. “He was quite credible and recommended,” he responded, speaking as if that information was obvious. You furrowed your brow and screamed, “So what!?” in reply.

“He has a record of being friendly and cooperative toward his fellow heroes and has adequate experience watching children,” a frustrated groan escaped you. “I am not a kid!” you snapped before stomping up the rest of the stairs and moments later, Mirai heard you slam your door shut.

He knew you somewhat resented him due to him blocking your attempts to apply to Yuuei High and the other surrounding hero schools in Japan, he thought at the time that a more practical route would be best for you.

He spent a good portion of his money to send you to a private school that exclusively dealt with business administration and management. He did this with the hopes you’d abandon your passion for inventing and support gear in favor of a more practical and logical career.

It was only in recent years that he realized he was in the wrong. No matter how hard he tried to extinguish your passion it continued to burn fiercely and his attempts at changing it were pointless. Yes, it was a little too late for him to change the past.

But he could change your future, and this is what he was keeping a secret from you. If his attempts on this trip to I-Island were successful, he hoped more than anything that you’d forgive him for both the way he tried to force you to become someone you were not and for disregarding your passions.

You sniffled, feeling your eyes well up, and soon hot tears began to flood down your cheeks. You slumped against the door, allowing it to cushion your fall to the floor where you brought your knees up to your chest. “When will he treat me like an adult, damn it!” you hissed, then again he never seemed to respect you.

Maybe this month-long break would be good for both of you and even if Gang Orca was going to interrupt your peace, you could still enjoy time to yourself if you focused on your inventions. And this is exactly what you did for a good portion of the following month.

After your father left and Gang Orca came, you locked yourself away in your room. Your interactions with him were limited to a simple, “Hello” in the morning and “Goodnight” in the evening. On occasion, you’d find yourself eating at the table with him.

But you blocked all of his attempts to connect with you, although you knew deep down this situation wasn’t his fault. It was your father’s. Still, it was strange to know you were sharing a temporary living space with the pro hero.

You supposed that too was your father’s doing, instead of coming and leaving by nightfall Gang Orca was staying at your house. It was all so peculiar and sometimes you could hear him talking to your father on the phone.

Usually, the conversation was short and Gang Orca would confess his worries and how he felt as though he were failing to connect to you due to your actions. Then one day toward the end of the month, you had forgotten to close the door to your room.

Maybe it was the fact that your brain was fried from focusing on nothing but your inventions or maybe you didn’t push the door hard enough when you walked in. Regardless, you were hunched over your worktable fiddling with another one of your inventions only to be startled when you heard gentle knocking.

Immediately turning in your seat, you saw Gang Orca. He was wearing another white suit, with that same high collar decorated with diamond-like shapes and the same pink tie. The only difference with this particular outfit was the fact that he was also wearing a red vest and had a black belt.

Said belt had a wide black buckle that was decorated with two distinct white markings, almost like eyes. ‘Is that supposed to represent what he looks like?’ you thought. ‘Also, I could have sworn I shut that door,’ you wondered if you were misremembering or if perhaps the door opened on its own.

Kugo waited for you to respond, but it appeared that you were lost in your thoughts, or at least that’s what he could safely assume judging by your open mouth and the clueless glint in your eye. He cleared his throat, “May I come in?” he asked gesturing to your room.

“H-huh?” you snapped back to reality and pressed your hands against your chest. “Um…” you glanced to the side, thinking it over. You had been sort of rude to him, and you could only imagine how much work he was missing because of you.

Then again, he must have agreed to watch over you which meant he wanted to spend time with you, right? Although you knew your father must have paid him a heavy sum, this fact aside, you never had anyone to talk to about your inventions before.

Your father didn't care and your friends got bored whenever you tried to talk to them about anything scientific. “I g-guess, sure…” you shrugged and turned back to the table, picking up the small item you were currently working on. It was a flat disc, almost resembling a coaster.

“Mm…” Kugo nodded and slowly entered your room, taking in every little detail including the faint floral scent that lingered in the air. You tried to keep your composure when his heavy footsteps grew closer and froze when he stopped directly behind you, casting you and the table in his shadow.

“Uh…” you slowly turned, looking at him before shyly turning back trying to focus on the invention in your hands but you silently cursed yourself when you noticed your cheeks were warm. Were you only flushing because he was so close to you?

The silence that filled the air was suffocating, and you were almost thankful when he finally spoke. “What are you doing?” the question was simple and should have a simple answer. “I uh…w-well…” you paused and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I…uh, l-like inventing things,” you said, feeling your face grow hotter. A sigh of relief came when he stepped to the side and crouched down with the intention of getting a better look at the device you were holding.

You raised your eyebrow and turned your head slightly to look at him. It was a little amazing just how tall he was, and the way his muscles curved and expanded when he crouched down. “I see, and what is that?” he questioned, pointing to it.

“Huh?” you blinked and looked back at the device. “O-oh this is uh…” you scrambled to put the item in your palm and turned in your seat so you were facing him. Then you held your hand out, presenting the item to him. After all, he wanted a closer look and who were you to deny him of that?

“I w-wanted to invent a better way to um, move furniture so this is...it’s designed to produce a magnetic field that allows whatever is placed on top of it to float. Uh...y-you know, like the stretchers in the hospital?” you tried to ignore the way your heart raced.

You took a breath, though you ended up coughing a few times. “Hm,” Kugo looked at you with concern. “Are you-” before he could ask, you nodded. “I-I’m fine,” you reassured him before placing your invention back onto the table. You then tapped your foot nervously against the floor.

“You know,” you said, shifting your eyes to your parasol. “T-this is kind of similar to my-” before you could finish, a strange vibrating sound echoed. You furrowed your brow, looking at Gang Orca. “Excuse me,” he said, laying his hand on your worktable and using it as support to help him stand up.

“Oh uh…s-sure,” you responded, watching him walk out of your room and down the hallway. “Hello,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear as he entered the kitchen. “Gang Orca,” came Mirai’s voice, Kugo suspected he’d be getting a call from the man sooner or later.

“How is Y/n?” that was always the first question he asked, and Kugo admired the fact that your father cared about your well-being first and foremost. “They are fine, but continue to prefer being in their room,” he explained, just like he had with the previous phone calls.

“Hm, I see…” Mirai said, stroking his chin. A moment of silence came and Kugo was tempted to ask how much your father knew about your inventions when he spoke again. “I’d like you to take them out,” Kugo paused, glancing to the side. He was a little confused by the request, but if it was what your father thought was best.

“Where would you like me to take them out?” he asked, Mirai replied, “There’s a coffee establishment they favor in Esuha City” and Kugo nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well,” it should be an easy enough location to find and if not, he could simply ask where you’d like to go.

“Thank you for looking after them. However please inform Y/n that I may be returning earlier than expected,” his words surprised Kugo. “I am happy to do a favor for another hero,” he said, looking down the hallway toward your room.

“I trust the early return means everything is going well,” or at least he hoped, Mirai informed him briefly about his reasoning for traveling to I-Island but he suspected it had more to do with you than heroism. “Correct,” the other man replied before the sound of someone else’s voice faintly echoed in the background.

“Yes, of course,” Mirai said before pressing the phone back to his ear. “I must be going now, goodbye,” he said in a rushed manner before hanging up. “Mm…” Kugo pulled the phone away from his ear and watched as the call screen disappeared and his lock screen reappeared.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he walked to your room. The door was still open and he politely knocked once more, watching you turn in your seat. “Oh…hi,” you said, before turning back to your worktable. He remained quiet as he reentered your room, resuming his prior position to the side of you.

Crossing his arms, he looked at the various other half-finished inventions on the table before glancing at the many tools that hung on the wall. “Why do you keep all of this to yourself?” he asked, he was most certain you were not a graduate of any support program or hero school at that.

You jumped in your seat and frowned. “My father…didn’t allow me to follow my passion,” you replied in a dull voice, clearly upset. “Hm,” his nose twitched. ‘How strange,’ he thought, wanting to press for more but again it wasn't his place to step between a father and his child.

But, the answer came when you turned in your seat to face him. Although you were looking at your hands which were currently clenched in your lap. You glanced to the side with the corner of your mouth turned up, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t completely expose your father.

Then again, everyone already knew about All Might’s true form so maybe it wasn’t so much of a secret anyway? Despite everything, you still respected your father's privacy and weren't sure how comfortable he would be in regards to you speaking of his past with someone else.

“Well…” you said, now folding your hands against your chest and twiddling your thumbs together. “He used to be All Might’s sidekick and after All Might got injured, I guess his opinion on anything related to heroism changed, or at least it does when it comes to me,” you explained with a pout.

“He thinks my inventions are liable to fall into the wrong hands and if they get used for evil then…” you paused, turning back to the table and feeling the urge to slam your fists against it. Although you knew that wouldn’t solve anything. So instead, you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“I…just wish he’d give it a chance,” you replied in a hushed voice, folding your arms across the table. Kugo could sense your frustration and laid his hand on your back. His gentle touch startled you, but even as you leaned back and looked at him confused his hand remained where it was.

“It is good to be serious about what you want, work hard and you’ll achieve what you desire,” you glared at him, that was easy to say but entirely different to execute. “Thanks…” you muttered looking away from him.

“Your father requested that I take you to a coffee establishment in Esuha City,” you paused. “Huh?” you replied with raised eyebrows and a distorted face, but Gang Orca’s expression indicated he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

“Mm…” you leaned back, crossing your arms. “I mean…I do like Katz Caffeine Coffee Cafe,” you replied, and despite it being a mouthful to say they had great coffee and sandwiches. His eyes widened slightly upon hearing the name and he wondered what the thought process had been behind choosing the said name.

“But…” you paused, looking down at your current outfit. “I should probably change,” you nervously chuckled, turning your attention back to Gang Orca. “Don’t you think?” you asked and instead of answering you, he turned to walk out of your room.

“Change if you desire,” he said, lifting his hand into the air and moving his sharp-looking fingers around. He grasped the doorknob and shut your door when he stepped out into the hallway. “Perhaps I should change into civilian clothes,” he said before walking to the provided guest room.

It would be wise considering he didn’t wish to alarm anyone if he was seen in Esuha City with you, it would also lessen the chances of the paparazzi finding him, and even if they did, the fact he’d be in civilian clothes would make it look less scandalous than if he remained in his hero attire.

After taking a quick shower, you dried yourself off and styled your hair before slipping on the outfit you picked out. “Mm…” you frowned, placing your hands on your hips as you continued to stare at yourself in the mirror that hung on your door.

It had a few visible cracks across it which were mostly your fault considering you did slam the door a few weeks ago after discovering your father had chosen Gang Orca to watch you. Not that it mattered, you could always make a damn mirror if you wanted to, hell maybe even something better than a mirror.

Eventually, you sighed and slapped your hands against your thighs. “Whatever,” you shrugged and headed out the door only to stop short. “Forgot this,” you muttered walking back into the room and toward the parasol that remained sitting in the umbrella rack by your worktable.

Grabbing it, you ran your thumb over the fabric that had a slight metallic feel to it. Who knows, maybe you’d need it. Shrugging again, you placed the handle over your wrist and finally left your room. Softly humming to yourself, you stopped short yet again when you noticed Gang Orca standing in the kitchen.

He paused and turned around when he heard you coming and grew concerned when he noticed you were looking at him with slightly parted lips and wide eyes. Unlike his hero attire, his civilian clothes did not hide his face and it was understandable why you would be shocked to see him without that familiar high collar.

He was currently wearing a white t-shirt with a blue short-sleeved hoodie. He was wearing that same belt with the wide black buckle that resembled the face of a killer whale and beige pants with black socks and matching black oxford shoes.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, curling his hands by his sides. It was almost frightening to see his mouth move along with his words and his sharp triangular-like teeth show. He said nothing as he approached and looked down at you with one eye arched upward and the other narrowed.

“Uh…” you stepped back and flinched when he lifted his arm, his fingers were spread as if he were going to grab you which he did. But, his touch was gentle and he loosely wrapped his fingers around your wrist before dragging you to the front door.

It didn’t take that long to get to Esuha City, although the train ride there was quiet because you struggled to keep up the conversation and eventually folded your hands in your lap and looked out the window instead.

Things were no better when you arrived at the cafe considering most of the staff knew you and immediately started asking questions that Gang Orca desperately tried to avoid answering. It was a sheer miracle that you even got to order food and drink which he paid for, and well, you weren’t about to argue with him on that.

“Mm…” you squeezed your hands between your thighs as you sat in your chair, Gang Orca had insisted the two of you sit outside due to the nice weather. The sun was shining and although the air was a little crisp, the sky was clear blue with a few white clouds.

People were passing by on the sidewalks and a steady line of traffic was moving up and down the street. You shyly glanced up, watching Gang Orca take casual sips of his selected beverage. “Um…” you wanted to speak up, but the way he glanced over at you and lowered his beverage back onto the table made you freeze up.

You weren’t used to anyone giving you their full attention and blushed furiously as a result. Hunching your shoulders, you lowered your head and looked away. “I uh…j-just wanted to say thanks!” you exclaimed, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Much like everyone else, you had a hard time controlling yourself when you felt nervous and the awkward laugh that left your mouth only further proved that. You frantically rubbed the back of your head, unintentionally forcing yourself to smile.

“Mm…” once again he looked at you with a questionable expression, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was confused, concerned, or just annoyed with your behavior. “Your father requested I take you here, so I did,” he replied before taking another sip of his beverage.

“I am glad you find it suitable here,” your smile faded, was he happy you were happy or just happy you liked the cafe? You weren’t sure, but either way, you leaned up and took your beverage. Then you slumped in your seat and lazily sipped on it, enjoying how the semi-warm liquid flowed over your tongue.

You then glanced back at the man, drawing your lower lip between your teeth to nibble on it. Then you opened your mouth once more. “I-” you were interrupted when a sudden scream echoed through the air sending a chill through your body.

You turned in your seat while Gang Orca shot up, ignoring the loud clang that came from his chair hitting the sidewalk. Several civilians began running down the street and your eyes began to water and your nose twitch when a powdery-like substance filled the air.

‘Smells like dust,’ you thought before looking at Gang Orca. “What’s going on?” you questioned as the substance grew stronger and you held your hand up in an attempt to block it from further irritating your eyes. You could feel how gritty it was against your skin and came to the conclusion it was sand.

A cruel laugh echoed through the air and a large cluster of sand began to appear in the street, and in the center of the said cluster was a strange-looking villain although his features were hard to see considering his face was concealed with shadows.

But he appeared to be an older gentleman who had lost his mind. You felt yourself begin to slide on the pavement due to the wind produced by the villain's swirling sand, but you felt someone grasp onto you and peered one eye open to see none other than Gang Orca.

His eyes were locked on the sand-controlling villain who raised his hands in the air and commanded the sand to form what appeared to resemble a giant wave. “Come on!” Kugo exclaimed, wasting no time in lifting you into his arms.

“W-wait a minute!” you cried out, reaching one hand toward the chair you were previously sitting in. Your parasol was hanging onto the arm of it, and frankly, you didn’t want your months of hard work to go to waste.

But he didn’t care and proceeded to run to the side of the nearest building which just so happened to be the cafe. Pressing his back against the brick wall, he could feel the way it vibrated when the large sand wave crashed down.

He kept you cradled in one arm, pressing you against his chest while his opposite hand lay against the back of your head. Yes, it was his duty to protect the civilians of Japan. But he had also promised to look after you and was going to make certain you remained uninjured.

When the wave crashed to the ground, it caused sand to float through the air like glistening snow. Kugo looked down at you before lowering you to your feet. “Get to safety,” he demanded. “B-but…” you tried to argue yet the way he leered down at you silenced any further words.

“Mm…” you frowned, curling your hands into loose fists. Gathering some courage, you pointed toward your seat which was now laying in the middle of the street. “I...I need my parasol,” you explained, folding your hands against your chest.

You swear you heard him sigh when he turned his back to you and took off running. Although your eyes were irritated by the floating sand, you watched in amazement as Gang Orca avoided several sand attacks to get to your parasol that was amazingly still hooked over the arm of the chair.

“Enough!” he growled, keeping secure hold of your parasol while he charged toward the villain. Easily slicing through several sand walls before grabbing him by the arm and throwing him into the nearest unoccupied building.

Then he ran back to you and held out his hands, presenting you with the parasol. You paused, looking at him before hesitantly taking it. “Um…thank you,” he nodded in response, leaning back up. “Get to safety,” he repeated, running back into the street while you ran to the front doors of the cafe.

Pushing them open, you ignored the soft bell that sounded and looked around. The workers were hiding behind the counter and the customers were underneath the tables. You looked at them with a furrowed brow before heading toward the door that led up to the second floor.

“Hey!” someone shouted, catching your attention. “Where are you going?!” they asked, clearly in a panic as more sand thrashed against the display window of the cafe. You frowned, thinking about what Gang Orca must be facing and hoping that he was alright.

Yes, he was a pro hero but that didn’t mean you couldn’t worry about him. You took a deep breath, clenching the handle of your parasol as you answered them. “Up, I'm going up. The villain out there has a sand quirk and it's a powerful one,” you said, beginning to flush when you noticed the stares you were receiving.

“Mm…” you frowned, activating your quirk to see a vast ocean of gray. ‘Makes sense…’ you thought, continuing to scan the room as a few looked at you with slight awe. ‘They’re all scared and uncertain what’s going to happen,’ you shrugged and turned back to the door, opening it to reveal a small staircase.

“Wait!” one of them shouted, but you ignored them and dashed up the stairs, your destination...the rooftop. Kugo threw his arms out to the sides, opening his mouth to let out a furious growl before a red-colored liquid spouted from his blowhole.

He charged at the villain again, releasing his hypersonic waves to try and paralyze him only to have him encase himself in his sand. It surrounded him in a protective circle which then hardened and vibrated when said hypersonic waves hit it.

He growled in response before a familiar voice filled the air. “Hiding behind your quirk will not do you any good!” he turned to see Best Jeanist come from above. One sleeve of his costume became unraveled as he created a tightrope between two buildings and landed on it.

“You cannot hide away like a hellish outdated pair of jeans!” he announced, bringing his opposite hand up to command the fibers of that sleeve to wrap around the protective circle of sand. Then his fingers curled inward, tightening the fiber strings and causing the sand to crack.

“Best Jeanist!” Kugo called, although the man seemed to ignore him as the protective circle of sand continued to break and the villain inside let out a haunting scream. The pieces that broke crumbled to the ground, seemingly back in their original form.

The villain appeared distressed, clenching his jaw as if he were refusing to accept defeat. Kugo tightened his fists, wanting to use his supersonic waves once more but it was too dangerous with Best Jeanist being within range of it.

However, his attention quickly shifted to the ground where he noticed that the sand was beginning to retreat and regather at the far end of the street where it swirled around in a circular motion. “You think you heroes can stop me!?” the villain suddenly exclaimed, allowing what remained of his protective circle to crumble.

The fiber threads then surrounded his body, pinning his arms and legs together. The wind grew more intense and Kugo watched as that swirling sand increased in speed and size, creating what resembled a hurricane.

Best Jeanist immediately noticed this and tightened the fibers that secured the villain. “Stop this at once!” he demanded, only to hear the man chuckle in response and look at him with a wicked smile. “You can’t stop it!” his maniacal laughter sounded as the sand hurricane now towered over the buildings.

Nearby leaves, signs, sewer caps, and even furniture went flying, becoming one with the hurricane. Meanwhile, you grasped onto the staircase railing, leaning over to try and catch your breath. Getting to the roof was no easy task, but you were only a couple of steps away from the door that granted access to it.

You closed your eyes, clenching the handle of your parasol. “Okay,” you said to yourself before hearing the howl of the wind outside. “What…is that?” you muttered and reached for the door handle. Upon opening it, you immediately noticed there was a fierce wind blowing, and like earlier it carried sand with it.

You clenched your jaw, pressing your back against the door to close it. Your hair blew along with the wind, and you squinted deciding to make your way over to the edge of the roof and clasped onto the metal bar that made up the safety railing that surrounded it.

You turned your head, trying to spot Gang Orca on the street below but the wind continued to grow stronger, and your parasol began to move around your wrist. “Huh?” you could feel your feet being forcefully pulled forward and the bottoms of your shoes scrape against the rough texture of the roof.

You tried leaning all of your weight back, but this did very little and your parasol suddenly opened causing you to be pulled into the corner of the roof. Your knees hit the small brick wall that rested behind the safety railing, but this didn't stop you from clenching onto the handle of your parasol for dear life.

That's when you discovered the source of the powerful wind and your eyes widened. “Is that a hurricane!?” you exclaimed in disbelief, one made entirely out of sand and heading straight toward you at that. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ you frantically thought, desperately trying to pull your parasol back.

There was no way you were going to lose it, no way you were going to give up months of hard work just like that! “Give…it…back!” you cried, positioning your feet on the edge of the small brick wall. Your stomach was now pressing into the metal bar of the safety barrier, and you could feel yourself continue to be pulled forward.

It wasn't hard to conclude that you were nothing against the strong current produced by the sand hurricane. “Y/n!” you heard someone shout and you could only assume that it was Gang Orca. He was standing below, his eyes wide and his face twisted in horror.

What possessed you to climb onto the roof of the cafe building!? He felt furious for a split second, but like many other heroes, he knew that putting his emotions first did nothing. You were in danger, you needed to be saved and that took priority. Unfortunately, even with his speed and agility, there was no way he could reach you in time.

His eyes shifted to the oncoming hurricane, knowing that he needed to stop it. If he used his supersonic waves, he could stop it in its tracks. The only problem was that you were within range, but even if he paralyzed you temporarily that was better than allowing you to be seriously injured or worse, killed.

“What will you do?!” Best Jeanist asked frantically, jumping down from his position and onto the street. Kugo paused and turned to him. “Just watch,” he replied before dashing toward the hurricane. The sand against his skin felt like tiny razor blades and immediately irritated his eyes.

This made it a tad difficult to dodge the incoming obstacles that the hurricane sucked into its body. But once he got close enough, he released his waves at full blast with an eerie scream accompanying them. You too screamed when your parasol was finally forced from your grasp and performed a foolish act.

Without thinking, you grasped onto the metal bar and climbed on top of it. Then you jumped into the hurricane, determined to get your parasol back. You could barely see it in the swirling sand, but it was there just within your grasp.

Hopefully, you could get to it before being swept up into the hurricane’s strong wind current. Your fingertips just brushed the handle of the parasol before a strange sound echoed and seconds later the flow of the hurricane was disrupted.

The sand was disbursed everywhere and several of the objects that were previously swirling inside of the hurricane fell to the ground, some of which cracked the pavement upon impact, and others became cracked or broken when they hit it.

He took a deep breath, lowered his arms, and frantically began looking for you as he had expected you to fall along with the various objects. But you were nowhere in sight and although Best Jeanist remained preoccupied with the villain, he noticed Gang Orca’s behavior.

“Is there something you are looking for?” he questioned, assuming all civilians were safely inside the nearby buildings. Kugo paused before looking at the man from over his shoulder. “Y/n was caught in the hurricane,” he responded causing Best Jeanist to raise an eyebrow.

He did not know who you were or why you held such importance to Gang Orca, but he grew distracted when he noticed a rather unusual shadow on the ground and tilted his head to the sky. His eyes widened at what he saw, it appeared to be a human but they were floating.

Kugo immediately noticed where Best Jeanist was looking and glanced up at the sky as well, feeling a rush of relief when he spotted you. Your hair was windblown and your clothes had tears in them, but what astonished him the most was the fact that you indeed appeared to be floating.

Your hands were clenched around the handle of your parasol, your legs were pulled up to your chest, and your body was gently swaying back and forth as you descended. He had never seen anything like this before and slowly approached as you grew closer.

He extended his arms out to ensure you had a soft landing and as soon as you came to rest on his chest, he wrapped his arms around you. One arm was pressed tightly against your back, his opposite hand entangled itself in your hair, and he leaned down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.

Your heart was racing, the fact that he had caught you was one thing but the way he was embracing you was entirely different. Your arms were by your sides and your parasol slipped between your fingers, falling to the ground.

You were in shock for the moment, yet at the same time, you were blushing furiously. “I am glad you are safe,” he said, and you chuckled nervously in response before hesitantly wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head against his shoulder.

“I’m glad too,” you replied in a soft voice before suddenly leaning back and placing your hands on his shoulders. “My parasol worked too!” you exclaimed, suddenly filled with joy. “Hm?” he responded, stepping to the side to notice it was currently laying on the ground.

He kept one arm around you and leaned down to pick it up. He glanced over it once before turning his attention to you. “This?” he questioned, watching you nod in response. “Mmhm,” you hummed taking it from him.

“I designed it as a means of self-protection and safety in the case of an emergency, it’s made out of a special fabric that magnifies the magnetic field generated from the-” you were interrupted when Gang Orca started laughing.

“W-what’s so funny?” you questioned, misinterpreting his laughter as him mocking you when in actuality, he was both surprised by your display of happiness and admired the knowledge and passion in your voice when you explained your invention to him. When his laughter died down, he looked at you with a pleasant expression.

“You are very knowledgeable and your passion is unmatched, follow it and do not let anyone stop you,” he often pushed hero students to do their best because he believed in their capabilities and while you weren’t a student by any means, the same applied to you.

“H-huh? Oh uh…okay?” you responded, noticing that he was still carrying you even as he began to walk toward Best Jeanist and the villain from earlier. Kugo stopped in front of him and bowed his head respectfully.

“Thank you for your help,” he stated and Best Jeanist nodded, although he didn’t need thanks for doing his job as a hero. “Is there anything I can do to aid you?” he questioned, watching the other man shake his head in response.

“The authorities should be on their way and my fibers will hold the villain secure until he can be properly dealt with,” he explained. “I see, thank you again,” Kugo replied, adjusting his hold on you. “Please send the paperwork to my agency, I will fill it out later,” or he could have one of his sidekicks do it.

“I need to take care of Y/n for now,” he said, lifting you in his arm just enough for Best Jeanist to notice. Although you didn’t expect this and an involuntary squeak escaped you followed by a wave of embarrassment. “Uh, h-hi?” you replied shyly.

“They are Sir Nighteye’s child,” he stated, making you glare at him. You didn’t need anyone to know who your father was. “I was not aware Sir Nighteye had a child,” then again, maybe it would be a good thing if people knew you existed.

But you understood that it was rare for heroes or even sidekicks to have a family considering they dedicated their lives to serving society. “Mmhm,” Kugo replied before continuing to walk away, and once Best Jeanist was out of sight you asked, “C-can you put me down?”

It was cute when he caught you and while you weren't used to this kind of treatment, you couldn't help but think that maybe he was pushing his luck at this point. “No,” he replied bluntly, both surprising and making you frown. But fine, if that's the way he wanted it then you wouldn't argue.

When you got back to the house, you immediately headed to your room and placed your parasol onto your worktable. Then you documented the details of the successful test before taking a shower, the events of today had left sand in places you’d rather not say.

It was a little crazy what had happened, but your father had told you many stories of heroes and villains alike and how at times an innocent civilian was caught in the crossfire. Although there was still that lingering fear that you could have died today, you took pride in knowing that you were alive and it was thanks to Gang Orca.

Yes, your parasol was the primary reason for that. But, if he hadn’t stopped that hurricane in its tracks who knows what would have happened? You wondered how you could thank him, even though heroes didn’t expect any thanks and did what they did out of the kindness of their hearts.

Still, there had to be something you could do. Making your way downstairs, you walked into the living room to see Gang Orca there. The scent of the ocean lingered faintly in the air and you assumed he too, had taken a shower.

This was especially evident by the fact that his clothes were different, he was now wearing a short-sleeved blue shirt with the front buttons undone with a white shirt underneath, and regular blue jeans with black loafers.

He was holding a bottle of water in one hand and staring at the blank television screen but turned his head when you walked into the room. “H-hi,” you said approaching him with your hands folded behind your back. You asked, “Mind if I join you?” before pointing to the couch.

“If you wish,” he replied before taking a big gulp from his water bottle. “Okay…” you said softly, shrugging your shoulders as you walked around the coffee table and sat on the opposite end of the couch. He partly wondered why you were sitting so far away but it was ultimately your choice to do so.

“Do you…mind if I turn the television on?” you asked, grabbing the remote and watching him shake his head in reply. “Heh…” you awkwardly smiled, and once you found something suitable to watch, you crossed your arms and laid back.

Hours went by and although few words were exchanged, the two of you seemed happy just being in one another's company. But your eyes began to feel heavy and a yawn escaped you. “Do you wish to sleep?” Kugo asked, knowing that while you might prefer to sleep in your bed you might be too sleepy to make it there.

Yes, he could carry you but given your earlier indication, you didn't favor that. You yawned again, nodding in response, and lazily watched as he rose from the couch and walked to a small closet in the nearby hallway. “Hm?” you raised your eyebrow when he returned with a small blanket.

“Here,” he said, holding it out for you to take. “Thanks?” you replied, placing the blanket over your shoulders. “You’re welcome,” he responded before taking his seat once more, glancing over when you yawned again.

He remained silent, ignoring the background noise of the television as he watched you nuzzle your head against the back cushion of the couch and close your eyes. “Mm…” he reached over, slipping his arm behind your shoulders.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and turned to look at him. He said nothing, not even as he guided you to lay your head down on the side of his thigh. Given how sleepy you were at the moment, you didn’t fully register how odd this might be.

Instead, you curled your legs up to your chest and nuzzled your head against his thigh, closing your eyes once more. His hand remained on your shoulder and after a few moments, he could hear the sound of your soft breathing which indicated you had fallen asleep.

A small feeling of happiness filled him but this was interrupted seconds later when his phone began to vibrate and he answered it quickly so as to not disturb you. “Hello,” he said in a hushed voice. “Gang Orca,” Mirai replied, “how is everything?”

Kugo remained quiet for a few seconds, he was never one to lie, and yet he did not want to agitate your father. “There was an incident in Esuha City, I ensured Y/n remained safe,” he said, slightly tensing up as he awaited the other’s response.

“Yes…I was informed about it. I make it a priority to keep up with the events in Japan. I am grateful you kept them safe,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll be departing in three days,” it was amazing how this month seemed to fly by.

“The final details of my agreement with I-Island should be completed by then,” once again his curiosity was peaked, and now that he knew a little about your passion for inventing and Sir Nighteye’s disapproval of it, he thought it fit to ask a certain question.

“I assume this indicates your trip to I-Island was for Y/n’s sake?” a long moment of silence came before he got his answer. “Yes,” Mirai replied before taking a breath. “I accompanied All Might to I-Island to discuss the potential of Y/n becoming an honorary lifestyle support specialist,” he confessed.

Once again he found himself hoping that you’d forgive him when he told you of this good news. His eyes widened, ‘So…he does care for Y/n’s passion after all,’ he thought proudly. “Please inform them I’ll be returning in three to four days, do not inform them of anything else,” Mirai strictly instructed.

“Of course,” Kugo replied, it wasn't his place to tell you about your father's surprise anyway. “Thank you, I must be going. Have a good night,” he said before hanging up and Kugo pulled back his phone, seeing the call screen disappear.

Slipping the device back into his pocket, he looked at you sleeping peacefully. He slowly removed his hand from your shoulder and instead threaded his fingers through your hair. Yes, you had given him the cold shoulder for the majority of this month.

But everything had changed between the two of you in the course of just a few short hours, and he found himself wanting to see you again even after your father returned. But more so, he wanted to see your inventions blossom and your confidence along with it.

#gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #kugo x reader #faulty writes: kugo sakamata #faulty writes: kugo sakamata: one shot

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talesofevermore · 4 months

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Devlog #1 - Up Until Today

Hello! Welcome to the Tales of Evermore Devlog. This blog will be updated semi frequently as the game progresses through development!

First of all, Tales of Evermore (ToE) was originally called Beastrealms and we began developing the concept back in December 2023. As such, there is quite a back log of concept images and whatnot I would like to share!

However, before we get into that - what exactly IS ToE? Tales of Evermore is a mystery dungeon inspired roguelike/lite (I am not having this debate...) RPG game! It features themes of psychological horror, body horror. high fantasy and real world themes. If you've played games like Little Misfortune and Fran Bow then you can expect a similar vibe. Gameplay wise, it plays a lot like the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon games but with added slice of life mechanics inspired by the Monster Hunter series.

As of June 2024, ToE is starting to come out of the concept phase and we have started initial development! At the moment we are primarily focusing on the first hour of gameplay as we intend to make this available as a demo.

Currently, Pastry Pup Productions consists of two people, Bonnie and Kai, with the occasional help from freelancers and contractors! These blogs will usually be written by Bonnie - me! I am the main driving force behind the creative aspects of the project, handling the art, sound design, writing and overall game direction and concept. My partner Kai is in charge of the technical aspect of things, which I will not even pretend to understand fully! But without him, there wouldn't be a playable game. If you are interested in us as people I will create a separate post with a Q&A and some little factoids at a later date.

Anyhow! Without further ado, here are some of the concept pieces that have been made so far!

First let's talk about our main character - Merri! Merri is a young dog girl. Her initial design saw her resembling a cocker spaniel, with long floppy ears and yellow fur. This was changed fairly recently as we decided to stick with fairly realistic colours and features for the characters. She still resembles a spaniel to an extent, but with a more muted colour palette. However, as you can see from her sprite strip, she has a curly tail! This is because Kai and I absolutely adore Pomeranians (we have 3!) and we wanted her design to feature something that represents them.

The demo will take place back in time, when Merri is a child, so we've also been working on our concept of her as a young pup!

A lot of the concept work was done in a tiny notebook I would carry with me on my commute to work. I live in Japan so the trains are usually quite busy, which means I have mastered the art of standing and doodling! Overall, Merri is a character who is very near and dear to our hearts. She's the goodest girl who will be the vessel through which many of the themes and plot points are conveyed. We don't want to give too many spoilers here but the story does get fairly dark and touches upon many sensitive topics young women encounter.

Our cast of characters is quite colourful! While we can't guarantee that all the faces you see here will be in the final game, it should give you an idea as to what to expect. These character potraits are quite old and have been scrapped, so even if the character still exists, they will have new art!

Notable characters include Murdoch (the wolf), Cidrich (the deer), Evander (the owl) and Cygnus (the dragon). Again, we don't want to spoil too much in these logs but expect a colourful cast with intertwining and indepth characters. Even our shopkeepers will have character plots and stories for you to explore! My personal favourite so far has to be Beau (the dog) and his relationship with Muirfinn (an otter) and how Merri will ultimately influence where that goes...

Overall we have written plots for our NPCs that involve, sibling rivalry, secret courtships, being haunted by dead wives, father abandonment, being a transgender parent, vampirism, the woes of living longer than mortals, and much much more! ToE is a story driven game and we want players to feel like every character is connected to the world. There will be lots to explore!

Now, what's a good game without interesting enemies? We have been hard at work designing enemies that fit the themes and plot of the game, will also being visually distinct. Again, while we cannot confirm whether all of these ideas and designs will make it in to the final product, it should give you an ideas as to how far we are willing to go to create a lasting impact. It's also probably worth noting now that ToE does include quite scary or unsettling material, similar in tone to Fear and Hunger at times (though sexual organs are not shown, body horror elements may be).

As you can imagine we are quickly approaching the 30 image limit on this post, so that will be it for now! We have also been working on the intro cinematic, tilesets, sprites and UI bits and bobs - but that isn't quite as interesting!

So, sadly that will be it for our introductory devlog! This has been an incredibly brief synopsis of the last few months, and we are super excited to keep you in the loop going forward! We are at the stage now were we've actually started programming the game, so we will have videos and other fun stuff to show you soon!

Thank you so much to the support, please don't be a stranger and we look forward to talking to you more soon!

Lots of Love,

Bonnie and Kai

#gamedev #game design #game demo #character design #furry character #character art #original character #game development #developer #indiegames #gamemaker #action rpg #indiedev #indiegamedev

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qwainte · 1 year

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Here is an unfinished sketch of a Bully/Canis Canem Edit OC of mine. I'm not planning on completing this particular image, but I still wanted to post something because I said a while back that I'd share something about my OCs but I never did, so here is Brandi Torres!

My first fanfic that I posted on ao3 (you can find the link on my blog) actually includes her and another one of my OCs. I thought it was a fun way to introduce them while also writing a self-indulgent rarepair story, lol.

Some basic info. It might change in the future:

Full Name: Brandi Isabela Torres Romão Birth date: August 17th Age: 15 Height: 165 cm School: Bullworth Academy Year: 10th Clique: Preppies Hair color: Black Eyes: Light brown

Below is her bio that I created a few months ago, back when I said I would post a work about my OCs on ao3. I didn't really know how to write their biographies in a way that would be interesting to read and I wanted to push myself to post my art online, so I scrapped that idea. Again, this info may change:

Brandi was born in New York and was the last child of four. Growing up in the hustle and bustle of NYC, Brandi was exposed to the glamorous world of showbiz. Her father, a movie producer and director, and her mother, an acclaimed opera singer, provided Brandi with a comfortable upbringing. Growing up, Brandi would spend her summer holidays at her family's vacation home in the Hamptons, where she first met Bryce Montrose and was immediately smitten with him. As the years passed, Brandi's feelings for Bryce grew to the point of possessiveness, although Bryce remains unaware of this and continues to regard Brandi like a little sister. Brandi is equally blind to Bryce's non-romantic feelings for her, believing that one day they will become a couple. When she was eleven years old, Brandi's family moved to New England and enrolled her into Bullworth Academy at the suggestion of the Montroses. She instantly became fast friends with Pinky and Gord and developed close relationships with Bif and Fiona (OC) [I plan on posting her soon, I just need to clean up her sketch]. It was during her time at Bullworth that Brandi began to compete for Bryce's attention, although it was often given to Chad instead. Through it all, Brandi remains one of Bryce's closest companions. Brandi is a well-known figure around school due to her parents' influence in the entertainment industry. She's taken her love of the spotlight and channeled it into her involvement with the Drama Club. She offers a certain level of flair to school productions, but her overconfidence in her singing talent often falls short of expectations. She loves to show off her wealth and flaunt her parents' fame at every opportunity. Brandi takes great pleasure in throwing lavish parties and often invites less wealthy students as guests. Brandi is social and amiable on the surface but can easily display a nastier side to those whom she sees as obstacles. She is good at persuasion and manipulation and will do whatever it takes to get what or who she wants.

See? It's boring! Anyway, onto trivia i.e. info I'm too lazy to try and fit into her bio:

She and her father are the only ones in her family born in the US. Her mother and siblings were born in Portugal

Speaks with a Trans-Atlantic accent [Oh, to be a starlet in old Hollywood!]

Knows Bryce is broke and covers for him

Derby usually entrusts her to plan parties at Harrington House

She and Gary bump heads a lot as he doesn't care for her flattery at all. She also got him kicked off the debate team

Favorite color is white

Good at Geometry

Brandi is actually a composite of herself and another one of my OCs; Isabella was an OC I've had for a while who shared a lot of similarities with Brandi so I combined them together. Brandi's second personal name is an homage to Isabella

Thanks for sticking around this long to check her out. This is literally the first time I have posted my art on the internet, and honestly? I'm terrified, lmao. I always hated my art and rn I'm experimenting with a new art style so I'm unsure about everything. Hopefully future me doesn't decide to delete this post.

#I just checked my blog to see if the ao3 link was still working and omg why didn't you guys tell me my blog looks like ass #i'm so sorry i'll fix it soon that theme and color scheme is not it #the theme is fine it's just that i don't know why i picked it bc it's not my style at all #but YELLOW text on a WHITE background is unforgivable i should be arrested for that tbh #typos guaranteed bc I wrote this at 4 am #Also my bday was yesterday pretty cool right?#bully cce #canis canem edit #bully scholarship edition #bully se #bully rockstar #my oc #my ocs

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starpuncher · 1 year

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so i've been doing some yaoi archaeology recently regarding mid 2010s homestuck fandom. presumably we've all been there and the audience is still with me.

what's striking to me about perusing these ancient cave drawings is how differently i experience them in the present compared to my impression of them in the past, at 12-15, which i felt at the time was significantly younger than both homestuck's target audience and the fandom population at large. my memory of homestuck fandom is that it was this bottomless cornucopia of incredible fanart; i've said to friends in conversation that i didn't think i would ever see a fandom with artistic output like that again in my lifetime. on reflection, though. on reflection, by which i mean a series of blog crawls through fanart archives going back over a decade, i may have been somewhat mistaken, and also thirteen years old. it turns out that to an untrained eye all fanart is equally incredible; there are pieces i remember as masterpieces that i now view (fondly!) as... kinda bad. this isn't a flex, it's just weird to realize that i surpassed 90% of my 13 year old art idols back in college. even as the eye improves, memory preserves amateur yaoi as comparable to an enlightenment masterpiece. then again, my memory sucks.* modern trigun fandom's output is probably more artistically on par with what i remember homestuck being, and even then not quite there.

due to tumblr's salted earth policy towards tits i can't say how much of the pervert aspect of homestuck fandom was true to my teenage recollection, but what scraps remain aren't super far off. based on limited records it SEEMS to have been both hornier and at once less (broad gesture towards the western slash hentai flavor of nonconsent)(a different beast entirely than yaoi nonconsent trust me there are different artistic movements at play here, influencing one another asymmetrically) than i remember. the layers of secondhand midwestern christianity continue to peel. i wouldn't describe my teenage self as being scared of sex/averse to internet porn as a rule, and yet interpreting what seems to have been a generally sex-positive fanart as notably debauched has a distinctive aroma of that mild psychosis. while the, uh, choices in ships were, hm, certainly more varied (the coward's description), the particulars of the fanart were fairly in line with modern fandom ship content (note: on several blogs, even what's been wiped retains hints in the tags applied to what are now blank images) (additional note: the author is considering the output of twitter fujoshis as constituting a broader slice of 'modern fandom ship content' than may be accurate).

whump, like actual no bullshit whump, is what i most notice as present in past fandom, now extinct beyond its most watered-down subtypes. think diary comics about depression. trigun volume 10 and the fanart it's spawned hurt, yeah, but that's a tragedy. that's a narrative. maybe (MAYBE) it's a positive indicator for the health of the larger organism that i don't see fanart of anime boy self-harm anymore. but i doubt it. i think gore fanartists still exist, in theory? gore as a focus is to me a different category than fanart with gore as an artistic inclusion. guts mean different things spilling out of what is essentially a blank canvas than they do when they belong to, i dunno, that pink bitch from jujutsu kaisen. what the fuck was his name. jujutsu kaisen is one of several recent shounen serializations that reflect a trend towards more overt gore/body horror/aesthetic grimdarkness in the mainstream, occurring parallel to the broader fandom retreat from similar visceral pain (and blood and guts and all that). i'm off topic. gore is itself different from whump, and you can still find gore if you look for it. gore is about flesh (as metaphor, but flesh regardless), whump is about suffering. there is frequently no metaphor to be had, or what is there is diaphanous and possibly accidental. i've seen several posts to the effect of 'we've lost weird sex in fandom' but i've seen what people do to vash's pussy on twitter. i think we've lost something else entirely. the weird sex remains, however cloistered by the architecture of a failing website inherently hostile to search and archival functions. the naked edginess (rawness? (is this a joke about flesh)) of whump is, for better or worse, not really a current part of the fandom ecosystem. i cannot remember the last time i saw an anime boy cut himself.

and again, maybe that's a good thing, but again, i doubt it. shockingly, i would not describe the broader internet populace as 'more mentally and emotionally healthy than 2014'. the word i would use is probably 'worse'. just worse. just like so much worse that any attempt at a similarly overlong retrospective on that sea change would be eligible for a hugo nomination by wordcount. discourse around the state of the very online public's comfort with discomfort focuses primarily on depictions of sexuality (for what i think are valid reasons, see blood knife's epochal 'everyone is beautiful and no one is horny') and, yes, that is often a proxy for other, parallel critiques, but, but, but. but is that the only place where boundaries on acceptable expression have narrowed? or just the one with enough intracommunity disagreement to be notable? there was for a period of time a lot of talk about hostility towards 'ugly' mental illness, the ways it often manifests not as easily-digested inaction but as violence, self-inflicted, omnidirectional, destructive. i don't really see that talk anymore. the parameters of what is acceptable in depictions of mental illness have been quietly agreed on. ask yourself, 'could you put this in a buzzfeed listicle?' and there you go.

returning to modern trigun fandom as a counterexample to heyday homestuck trends, i think of the way vash's near explicit suicidal depression (manifested as alcoholism, avoidance, a tendency to self-sabotage, a general late-series vibe of being unsafe to bring near a bridge) is generally ignored, or alluded to only in contexts where his yaoi wife can kiss it all better. the combination of suicidal depression and physical mutilation leads in a straight line to a door with nothing behind it, a vacuum left unfilled. i think of being 15 and scrolling past an mspaint comic about the minutiae of dave strider's abusive home life, at the time only implicitly canon, through a reading that much of the fandom still rejected as ooc. a picture of bro holding dave as a child, blood on the frame. bruises. straight red lines on #FFFFFF. let me remind the homestuck newcomer that this guy wasn't an explicit abuse victim in 2014. these agonies were whole-cloth inventions. do we still do that? we still invent new shapes for alien dicks (the trigun/homestuck comparison serves me again) and apply questionable interpretations of bdsm dynamics to whatever m/m is in fashion.

zooming out from my adolescent focus on dave fanart (yeah yeah i know i know he was everyone's favorite whaddya want), i wonder if commercialization plays a role, because it always does. that question is never answered in the negative. you weren't allowed to sell homestuck merch at cons. no one was making money off homestuck fandom. is that why it was like that? i don't know. i have laundry that i should be doing.

#txt #diary #hm this went down some weird roads. how do i tag this #homestuck tag for tag blockers #suicide discussed //////////#self harm discussed ///////#gore discussed ////////#fandom retrospective thru lens of current morays

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simfluencer-network · 3 months

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Posedump | 25 (Non-Listed) Poses

Published by NotJustaBook on December 23, 2018

Hi everyone!

I know I’ve already posted today, but I thought today would be good to dump a little Christmas present on you guys. This time it’s a pose dump consisting of mostly story-telling poses that I’ve made for this and that. They’re pretty recent this time (thankfully) and all from Monte Vista Stories, so lots of poses for all your criminal needs (… no? Just me? Kay). This time, you get:

25 poses in non-listed format

9 stand-alone poses for adults

11 coupled sets for adults/teens

1 coupled set for an adult and a child

Pose codes in a .txt file

A note on height-adjustment

A list of links for the accessories I’ve used in the poses

Images with pose codes

A folder with the .clip files

Holiday wishes from me! (You get those even if you’re not downloading, though).

Height-adjustment:

Some of the poses in this set are height-adjusted, which means that you’ll have to either:

Use a height-slider. I use CMar’s slider. In most of these, the sim in the male position is set to 200 and the female is set to -130. (For sorrydaddy1-2 the male is set to 180, however).

Use an OMSP. Simply pop your dude on it and set it to around 13 cm (may need to be lowered a little for sorrydaddy1-2), then snap photos from the waist-up. Or don’t – I’m a free-minded individual.

Previews:

These first ones are all made for Regina (because who else?). The first one is unused so far and required this handgun (not included), while the others were used in gen 2 chapter 7 for Gina and Lotta. They require these flashlights (not included).

The first of these have been in use quite a bit. See example of it in use in chapter gen 2, chapter 8 and the gen 1 rewrite chapter 1 (last picture). The second was used in gen 2 chapter 8. It uses the same gun accessory as the above.

The last one I haven’t used, and it’s a little finicky to use. He’s holding a painting under his arm and you absolutely have to use moveobjects with it. What you do is place the painting and lower it down, then while holding down the alt-key, move your sim into position. Depending on the height of your sim, the painting can’t be too big or it’ll touch the ground.

The first couple here were never used. I intended them for a photoshoot but I wasn’t happy with them and scrapped it. I question past me’s decision on that because they’re not that bad.

The second set were used for an old layout for my blog as you can see in the featured image, so it’s mostly meant for modelling. However, I also managed to find a use for it in gen 2 chapter 15, so it has story-telling potential as well.

These were made with an adult and teen in mind for gen 2, chapter 5. There’s a little caveat however – when you use the pose in the fem position with a teen, the hand clips through the arm. That’s just how teen poses are, I’m afraid, and I was too lazy to correct. Instead, I shot around it in my chapter 😛

These poses were (funny enough) also made for Regina. The first one is stand-alone and just meant as a reaction to being pushed down. In the other two, shit gets real. takedown2-3 are variants of each other, meaning the faces/hands are nearly the same, except he’s lower down to the ground in 3. Why? Uuuuummmm, I dunno 🙂 I guess I felt like I had a need for that at the time. However, none of them ever made it into a chapter. The gun used is the same as for all the above.

Both of these were made for and used in the old version of gen 1 (pls no read is bad). The kid/adult one can be seen in use in gen 1 (old), chapter 20 and she’s actually meant to have this stiletto in her hand (not included). I was just too lazy to do it for the preview. The second was used in gen 1 (old), chapter 19. It uses these rope accessories (not included) though again – too lazy to put them on for the preview because I’m terrible. It works well with my posepack Tied Up at the Moment and maybe I would have included it but I thought it was bad at the time (it is, his face is horrible).

And finally, I have two conversation poses to be used with a railing. The one in this preview is from the basegame, though the name escapes me. They can be used with other fences/walls with a little creativity and alt-key usage though, as I did in gen 2, chapter 21 with 1 (first pic – seen from behind).

What Can I Do With These?

Take pretty, pretty pictures and show me. I’m so curious!

Edit these for your own personal use – that’s what the animation files are for

Edit these and upload them to your funky blog (but please ask for permission and give credit, also please don’t just re-upload without edits, it’s silly)

Downloads

Download (SFS, .zip)

Download (Box, .zip)

#pose #child pose #adult pose #standing pose #laying pose #sitting pose #story pose #model pose #couple pose #notjustabooksims

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certainempatheticturkeymuffin · 2 years

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Going through my au blog (not that one) and having the sudden urge to redesign them again. I was halfway through, scrapped them, redrew a few, scrapped that, decided to make a comic and come up with their designs as i went, and am now scrapping that because i'm really bad at making comics + it's just harder to do than writing with the occasional inserted image (that will look infinitely better because I'm not making a whole ass comic), am going back to writing, and have been captured by the urge to create new character sheets for a whopping 22 characters rather than actually writing the damn thing.

The woes of adhd + too many ideas. I'm going to do some college application shit this weekend, then I'm going to shelve my Almon Project (that i haven't worked on in several weeks lol), and I'm going to pump out as many character sheets as I can with my drawing tablet (which I sync to my phone, which means it can't zoom and I can't stress the details :)

This AU has been in my mind for years; the characters have each been somewhat fleshed out, and I honestly just want to draw them and make them each a cool character post. Even if it means just writing the occasional one shot and just drawing a bunch of art, I really like this AU and I just want to finalize what I've got so I can actually make stuff for it.

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horanghaejamjam · 2 years

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Horanghae Chapter 1

Summary: Everyone knows that Soonyoung loves tigers. The term Horanghae literally means “I tiger you”. Needless to say, the Seventeen members shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were the night he came home with a very timid white tiger curled against him.

Pairing: Hoshi-centric, Seventeen x White Tiger hybrid reader.

Chapter Rating: PG

Genre: Fluff, Very slight angst

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter Warnings: Very brief mentions of abandonment/neglect and hybrid trafficking.

Note: In this story it is implied that reader is younger than Hoshi and most of the members but older than the three maknaes. Korean age is still a bit confusing to me tbh because math so if I got it wrong please lmk.

Disclaimer: This is a repost from my original blog, this is my own original work and not copied. Images used in header are not mine. All written work is 100% my own, editors and beta readers will be credited as needed. Do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other sites without my permission.

Previous (Teaser) . . . Next Chapter

Horanghae Masterlist

The sound of rain echoed against the cold pavement and the roof of a convenience store that did very little to shield you from the assault of water droplets. What started off as gentle rain had quickly escalated to a full on downpour with no warning to let you find shelter. Now you were trapped hiding against the wall of a convenience store, curled up and using your paw to shield your eyes from the rain. It was late and very few people were out at this time, and those who were didn’t pay much interest to the white and black ball of fur slowly getting drenched by the rain. With no one to help, you just had to wait it out or try to find another place to sleep without getting caught by traffickers.

You were a young white tiger hybrid, your genetics and coloration of your fur making you a very rare and expensive breed. “Wild” hybrid species were already considered more of a luxury as they were often harder to care for than their domestic counterparts, but ones with special traits could be worth a fortune to the right buyer. You had known this since the moment you were old enough to be sent to your first home. Having gone through many in such a short span before finally ending up a stray, living on the streets after being thrown out from your last home.

You never knew why your owners never seemed to want you for too long before giving you up again. You always tried to be on your best behavior and make things easy for them. You always did what you were told, didn’t cause trouble, kept to yourself, and you were as docile as physically possible. Despite the fact you were a tiger, you were fairly small for your species so it wasn’t like you could do much anyways. However, no matter what you did, you always ended up back at the shelter or, in your current case, on the street.

As much of a luxury as wild hybrids could be, a lot of people also avoided them, especially common predators. They were always stereotyped as “dangerous” or “too hard to train” so people only ever got them when they wanted a guard. In instances such as yours, if the hybrid wasn’t protective, they were often thrown out and replaced. Then there were the ones that decided to give them a shot and panicked the second the smallest growl came from them. Lastly, in the case of your most recent owner, they had adopted you as a “trophy” then got annoyed when you became too much work. Then before you knew it a simple trip to the store had resulted in you watching sadly in the parking lot as they waved goodbye and drove away. That had been almost a week ago and you had given up on finding your forever home. You sold your collar and used the money to buy food then wandered around in tiger form aimlessly until someone took enough pity on you to spare you a few scraps or a water bottle. You also had to dodge shelters a few times after concerned callers tried to get you a place to stay.

It’s not that you wanted to stay on the streets for the rest of your life, but you were scared about finding another home. Since you were a cub your life had been miserable so who wasn’t to say that would be the case for your next home. By now you weren’t going to get your hopes up that your savior would come for you.

A soft sigh left you as you shivered and curled up further, your tail curling around your back paw comfortingly. By now you were soaked and your fur was no longer providing warmth as you began to shiver as an effect of the storm. There was no way you would be finding sleep any time soon so all you could do was hope the rain would let up soon. As you shivered for the millionth time, you tuned in to the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Your ears perked up and you were about to open your eyes when you felt something soft and warm draped over you.

“Hey there little one are you okay?” opening your eyes you found dark brown ones staring right back at you. His brows furrowed in concern, lips puffed into a pout, and his hair was slowly falling into his face as the rain drenched it. He was only in a thin white shirt as his jacket was now thrown over your back to try to shield you from the rain and drenching him in return. You wanted to shy away from him but something about his warm gaze and caring act made you feel warm and safe. All you could do was chuff softly and rest your paw on his leg. He chuckled softly at this and gently reached out to pet your head. You flinched away at first which made him pull back before moving slower to pet behind your ears. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out in a storm like this?” he cooed. It was kind of endearing how sweet he was, cooing and petting you like you were the most precious thing in the world and it made you giddy. You couldn’t help but shuffle a bit closer and lean into his hand.

“My name is Soonyoung,” he introduced, moving his hand to rub the top of your head, “do you have a name?” It took a few minutes of silence and you blinking up at him for him to giggle nervously, “Oh right, you can’t talk as a tiger can you?” He hummed in thought for a second before perking up and moving his hand, “How about this, I ask you yes or no questions and you can either nod your head or tap my leg with your paw okay? One tap for yes and two taps for no, sound good?” After a second you slowly lifted your head and nodded it gently. Soonyoung smiled wider and clapped his hands eagerly. It seemed that he didn’t care about the fact he was now drenched from the rain, more eager to talk to you.

“Okay, so this is an awkward question but are you a girl?” you huffed as if trying not to laugh before nodding your head, making Soonyoung sigh in relief. “I thought so but wanted to make sure, are you stuck out here?” you nodded again, “are you cold?” Kind of an obvious question but you nodded again, shaking your head after just enough to shake some of the water from your fur. “What am I saying of course you’re cold,” Soonyoung mumbled, “I’m assuming that if you’re stuck out here in the rain you don’t have anywhere to go right? Would you like to come home with me? We can dry you off, get you something to eat and give you a warm place to sleep.” This time you froze, as nice as his offer sounded you were scared. Yeah Soonyoung seemed nice but they all did, you didn’t think you could handle being abandoned again. Soonyoung could sense your hesitation and began to panic thinking maybe he misunderstood or came off too strong.

“Oh I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry,” he pouted and slowly began to move away from you and stand up so he wouldn’t make things worse. The second his warmth left you, you found yourself craving his affection even more. The thought of him leaving you alone made you anxious so you quickly stood up before he could think about leaving. Shaking as much water off your body as possible, and his jacket in the process, you walked over to him and nuzzled your head against his leg. Soonyoung couldn’t help but laugh at your adorable action as he bent down to pick up his jacket. Not that putting it on would do much as both of you were dripping even now that the rain was calming down. “I’ll take that as a yes then? Alright little one follow me, home is only a few blocks away,” he took two steps before pausing and looking down at you, “oh, I should probably also tell you now that I’m an idol and live with my members so you may or may not get crowded when we get there.” You honestly weren’t quite sure what he meant by being an idol but decided to prepare yourself for more people anyways. More than anything, you were just thankful to have a place to sleep that wasn’t a thrown out mattress.

It was nearly three am by the time you guys reached the dorm and by now the other members of Seventeen were starting to panic a bit. Soonyoung had been a bit restless from not working and had decided to go out for a bit of a late walk since he knew no one would be out at this time to bother him. However, that had been hours ago and before it had started to rain. The storm combined with the fact he wasn’t answering his phone would worry just about anyone.

They tried their best to be patient, hoping maybe he found a place to hide from the rain and his phone died which is why he didn’t answer. It made sense logically, but they were idols and you never knew what trouble they could get into if the wrong person recognized them. They waited a little bit longer before Seungcheol stood up and went to grab his jacket. Soonyoung couldn’t have gone tool far and he wasn’t answering his phone so the only logical choice was to go out and look for him.

“I swear if he just got lost or something I may kill him,” the oldest mumbled as he bent over to put his shoes on. Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua also making their way over to the door to join him after a moment. Might as well go in a group to cover more ground and make sure that they didn’t accidentally lose another member in the process.

“If we’re not back in like half an hour we probably ended up dead somewhere,” Jihoon muttered, resulting in Josh glaring at him and nudging his shoulder. There was a mixed sound of confirmation and a few giggles from the others

Just as the group was about to head out and search for their missing member the door opened to reveal a soaking wet Soonyoung. He barely even managed to get his shoes off and step into the room with you before there were at least eight boys surrounding the two of you. The sudden attention made you whimper and cower further behind him. You didn’t know what you had expected when he told you he lived with his group members but you hadn’t expected so many people.

Seungcheol was the first to be alerted to your presence, taking a step back and glancing at you before back at his groupmate.

“Uhm Soonyoung, what is that?” he asked, alerting the others who were now trying to get around him to look at you. Another pained sound followed by a soft growl left your throat in response, causing a few of the boys to jump back. Soonyoung only smiled as he kneeled down to your height, scratching the top of your head affectionately. The action made you relax a bit but you still stayed tensed up beside him.

“Oh yeah, I found her on the street while on my way home, isn’t she adorable?” he asked. Soonyoung moved his hands to grip your head and rub his cheek against you affectionately like a child. It was cute and tickled meaning you probably would have laughed if not in your tiger form but you settled for nuzzling against him in response. Hushed whispers filled the room for a moment as the other members of Seventeen tried to process what they were seeing. On one hand they were thankful he didn’t get in to trouble, but he made them worry over nothing and now they had to deal with a random tiger hybrid that he dragged home with him.

“You’re telling me you came home late and gave us all a panic attack because you decided to steal a tiger off the street?” Seungcheol asked, staring at you as if you were some alien creature. Soonyoung huffed a bit and let go of you to glare up at his leader.

“I didn’t steal her, I rescued her! It was storming outside and she was alone trying to hide. I couldn’t just leave her there!” A bunch of the others shook their head and you gradually tried to sneak back to the door. As if being in a room with 13 strangers wasn’t intimidating enough, you got the feeling you weren’t welcome there.

“Hyung she’s a white tiger,” Jihoon pointed out, “there’s no way a hybrid that rare is running around freely. She probably has an owner looking for her.” Soonyoung pouted and was about to say something when Joshua cut him off.

“She doesn’t have a collar though, so that may imply she’s a stray,” he got a bit closer to try and inspect you. Kneeling down and keeping a safe distance to not scare you more as he tried to find any signs that would imply you had a home to go to.

“A stray as rare as her, in an area like this?” Jihoon argued back.

“Stray or not it’s not like I could just leave her out there,” Soonyoung spoke up, hugging you close to him, “look at her, she’s wet and shivering.”

“Poor things probably terrified since you dragged her to an unknown place with 13 strangers,” Wonwoo spoke up. This pretty much got all of the members talking over each other as they tried to figure out what to do. Basically dividing the dorm in half as some supported Soonyoung and others argued having you here was a bad idea. It was clear by now this arguing was getting nowhere and Soonyoung clearly wasn’t planning on letting you go. Seungcheol realized this and sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think of a compromise.

“Fine, how about this, she can stay with us for tonight but first thing tomorrow morning we’re going out to see if we can find her owner, deal?” Soonyoung glanced at you as he thought about it, rubbing your head again as he nodded.

“But if she doesn’t have anywhere to go can we keep her?” he asked, or more like pleaded.

“We don’t have the time or room to take care of a-” Seungcheol cut himself up when he saw Soonyoung, and possibly you, looking up at him with a begging expression, “we’ll talk about it.” Soonyoung lit up like a little kid before giggling and hugging you close to him.

“Come on Kitty, let's get you clean and dry! You can sleep in my room with me!” The other members didn’t get a chance to say anything before he was bounding down the hall to his room. Not knowing any of the others and not wanting to be left alone from your savor you quickly ran after him, catching up in a few steps. Meanwhile the rest of Seventeen was staring silently at the spot you had just been in, processing the rather theatrical scene that had just played out in front of them. They would deal with it in the morning though, all too tired to even think about explaining this whole thing.

The first thing you noticed as you followed Soonyoung was that the building he lived in was huge, possibly bigger than your previous homes. You supposed that made sense given he lived with twelve other guys but you had no idea how you were going to manage getting around without getting lost. That was of course with the hope that you would get to stay with him. You didn’t have anywhere else to go and, while you didn’t want to end up back on the street, you would run away before ending up at the shelter again. Besides, you really liked Soonyoung, something about him was comforting. He was nothing like your last owners, he actually seemed to care about you as a companion.

You followed Soonyoung for what felt like forever until he stopped at a door towards the back of the hall. He opened it and stepped inside, leaving you to stare at him through the door before he returned with a towel and change of clothes in his arms.

“This is my room,” he said as he motioned with his head to the room behind him. He led you two doors down before opening the next door to reveal the bathroom. It wasn’t overly luxurious or anything, but it was quite spacious and fairly clean which was nice. You cautiously followed him inside and he closed the door before setting everything down on the edge of the bathtub. “I don’t really know what size you are so hopefully these clothes fit you,” he said with a nervous giggle, “assuming you don’t want to stay in tiger form all night of course.” He scratched behind your ears for a second before nodding and pulling the shower curtain back so he could show you where everything was. “All the products in the corner are mine so feel free to use whatever you need. I don’t have any spare toothbrushes or anything but if you want to use my hairbrush or anything I’ll place that on the sink. I’ll be just down the hall in my room so just come back there when you’re done okay?” You glanced around for a moment before gently nodding which made him smile, rubbing your head one last time he gently left the bathroom. You can hear him hover around the door for a moment before leaving which was your cue to move.

For the first time in forever you shifted out of your tiger form, the cold tile was a shock against your bare skin but you ignored it. The satisfying feeling of stretching your limbs out and popping all stiff joints was preferable. How long had it been since you had been in this form? It had to have been at least a week or two by now. Very slowly you rose to your feet, using the sink to hold yourself up as your legs were shaking a bit before getting your balance and walking over to the door, locking it and stepping back to glance at yourself in the mirror. Your skin was fairly clean as opposed to your fur which was soaked and clearly greasy as it flew in all directions. Your ears twitched and you tried to run a hand through your hair before shaking your head and moving to get in the shower before you took too long.

To say the shower had been heaven was an understatement. You were finally able to relax and wash away all the dirt from the streets. The hot water also helped relax your tense muscles and clear your mind. You quickly finished washing up and stepped out of the shower, paying special attention to drying your hair and tail off before wrapping the towel around yourself and walking over to the sink. The white in your hair and fur was now vibrant again rather than a muted off white color, and you were able to brush it out with little struggle. The now wet strands fell into your eyes a bit, making you wince from the splashes of water before you brushed them back. Your once bright blue eyes were now clouded over from the cold and exhaustion and you could tell you had gotten a bit thinner than usual but that wasn’t something you wanted to think about. At least for the night, you had a home and you were going to savor every last second you had with Soonyoung.

Making sure everything was left exactly how you found it, you folded the towel and changed into the clothes Soonyoung gave you. It took a few quick adjustments to get them to fit over your frame as he was clearly bigger than you were but they worked and were comfortable for the time being. The clothing swallowed your figure and his scent invaded your senses which made you giggle as you unconsciously snuggled against the collar of his shirt.

You were a bit nervous about stepping out now that you weren’t fully a tiger but you knew you couldn’t hide forever. You knew it would have been more awkward and you took up less space this way.

Unlocking the door, you stuck your head out to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out and making your way back to Soonyoungs room. Knocking softly on the door, you slowly stepped inside and looked around the room. Soonyoung was laying on the bed, having already changed into his pajamas and dried himself off. There was a pile of blankets, pillows, snacks, and water on the bed and he was laying down playing on his phone, glancing up when he heard the door. His eyes glanced over you for a moment before he smiled and bounced around on the bed a bit.

“Awwwe look at you, aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” he exclaimed, resisting the urge to run over and just squeeze you. All you could do was giggle shyly and look down as your tail swayed behind you. Soonyoung hummed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at you as if you were the cutest thing he had ever laid eyes on. It made you shy and you tried pulling the shirt over your face to hide your red cheeks. “Please don’t hide from me!” he pouted, “I’m sorry you’re just too adorable, I’ll stop okay?” He waited for you to relax, slowly pulling the shirt back down to look at him. Soonyoung nodded and shifted to the side, patting the bed, “Come sit with me, I won’t bite.” You hummed softly before walking over, taking a seat beside him with a fair amount of space between you. “Hungry?” Soonyoung asked as he shuffled through the pile of snacks he brought, “it’s too late to make anything but I grabbed as many snacks as I could so help yourself.” You look over at everything and smile as you reach for one of the snacks. You didn’t know why he was being so generous, but you were beyond grateful for it. If it wasn’t for him you’d probably still be soaked and freezing on the street.

“Thank you,” you muttered, voice coming out much weaker than you intended, “for everything.” He seemed taken aback to hear your voice but he quickly regained himself, chuckling at you softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, just relax, you had a pretty rough night.” He grabbed one of the snacks for himself and you two ate in silence for a bit before Soonyoung spoke up again, “I know you are probably tired but can I ask you a few things? It would probably be easier to talk about it now rather than in the morning with the others around.” You weren’t too exactly sure what he meant but figured he was talking about them crowding you again like earlier so you nodded softly. “Well first off, can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“It’s Y/N,” you answer softly.

“Cute, that suits you,” he cooed, “how old are you?”

“Ummm they always said my age in cat years so I’m not sure.”

“Okay well,” he hummed in thought for a moment, “what is your birthday?” You swore you could see him light up when you told him, “So that means you’re younger than I am!” When you glance at him confused he laughed a bit, “I’m 27.” You made a small ‘oh’ expression before nodding and focusing back on your snack, your ear twitching slightly. “Why were you out on the street? Don’t you have a home to go to?” he asked hesitantly, making you freeze. When you didn’t answer he began to worry that he had said something wrong. The sound of you sighing cut him off before he could express those concerns.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. My last home kicked me out a few weeks ago and I didn’t want to end up back in a shelter so I just kind of wandered around until you found me,” your tail wrapped around you protectively as you spoke. Soonyoung was silent as he looked at you, pouting a bit as he didn’t know what to do. Cautiously he reached his arm out, pulling you into a hug when you didn’t shy away from his touch. You chuffed softly and nuzzled against him as he rubbed your arm gently.

“Why would anyone kick out such a precious hybrid?” Soonyoung thought out loud. When you didn’t respond he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Seungcheol is going to make us go to the shelter tomorrow to double check that you’re a stray. I’m sure once we talk to him and the others though that we’ll convince them to let you stay. It may be a bit tricky but we can work it out I’m sure!” He sounded so hopeful that you found yourself wanting to believe him, glancing up at him with wide eyes.

“Do you really think so?” you asked, just as hopeful.

“I know so!” he assured you, “if you want to stay with us of course, I promise we’ll give you a fun and loving home.” Your expression lit up and you couldn’t help but throw yourself at him in a tight hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! I would love that!” you squealed, hugging him tighter. Soonyoung chuckled,

“Of course, now it’s getting late so why don’t we go to bed? Are you comfortable sharing a bed with me?” though you didn’t really have to answer since cuddling against him was answer enough. You got into bed first, curling around the spare pillow he gave you as Soonyoung put everything aside and got the extra blanket before climbing into bed beside you. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, scratching behind your ear softly.

“Goodnight Soonyoung.”

You were woken up suddenly the next morning with the sound of crashing from outside of the room. Startling and jumping up from your original spot curled up against Soonyoung. Clearly he was used to the noise as it was you jumping that woke him up rather than the commotion of his members. He slowly got up with a yawn, rubbing his eyes before looking over at you with a tired smile.

“Did they wake you up?” he asked, voice a bit thicker from sleep. When you nodded he shook his head with an airy laugh. “Sorry about that, we can get pretty crazy, and we’re on break right now so everyone has a lot of pent up energy.” You just blinked at him and yawned as you tried to wake up, watching Soonyoung as he got up. “You can stay in bed if you want, I can just bring you breakfast after I get ready?” You thought about it before shaking your head and slowly climbing out of bed. If there was even remotely a chance that you would get to live with these guys, you would have to get used to them. Soonyoung seemed a bit relieved when he saw you were willing to interact with his members. “Alright, I am going to get dressed real quick, you can stay in here or feel free to look around. I’m sure some of the members would want to meet you.” With that, he left the room with the door slightly cracked open.

You thought about it for a moment, pacing back and forth as you listened to the commotion outside. Being alone quickly got boring though and you took nervous steps towards the door, hesitating for a moment to calm your heart before stepping out and into the hall. You couldn’t see anyone immediately so you followed the sound of the commotion to the living area. You could hear some members in their rooms but didn’t want to bother them, tail tucking between your legs as you entered the living room.

Some of the members were on the couch watching a show that didn’t interest you in the slightest. It seems some of them were arguing over a phone which was the cause of the commotion as they were play fighting and running into things. You instinctively stepped back due to the commotion despite the fact that they were nowhere near you. A little bit away you could smell food and hear talking which told you there were more people in the kitchen. Suddenly the whole place felt crowded, making you whimper a bit and back away in hopes that none of them had seen you. Though it seems your sudden noise alerted the members to your presence, the commotion settling as they all turned to stare at you.

You bit at your lip and curled in a bit on yourself as they all stared at you, giving a sense of Deja vu from the night before. No one said anything as your awkward stare down with five males continued. A few of them mumbling things about you and what they were supposed to do now that you were here. Still, they never spoke to you and you suddenly felt strangely foreign and unwelcome. Deciding waiting for Soonyoung would be a better idea you quickly turned to run back to your room, only to freeze when you heard a voice.

“Guys stop staring, you’re scaring her!” turning back, you saw one of the more familiar faces from last night gently approach you. He had a soft smile and tried to make himself look as non threatening as possible, bending down a bit so you were both eye level. “Good morning,” he greeted softly, “I didn’t get to talk to you last night, my name is Joshua.” His voice and gentle aura helped you calm down and you smiled up at him shyly.

“I remember you, I’m Y/N,” some of the others seemed to perk up hearing you speak, trying to get closer but Joshua shooed them away.

“It’s nice to meet you! So Y/N, are you hungry at all? We were just about to finish breakfast so you can come help until Soonyoung is ready?” You nodded softly which made him smile. Joshua led you to the kitchen by hovering an arm over your shoulder, using his other hand to keep away the others who were still staring you down. “Ignore them,” he whispered once he sensed your discomfort, “they’re just being nosey.” You walked with him to the kitchen, the smell of food making your mouth water and your tail sway. You hadn’t had a proper meal in so long so the smell was heavenly. There were two others in the kitchen with you, both of them turning to glance at you for a moment while still focusing on what they were doing. At least they weren’t staring you down like everyone else.

“Here sit down,” Joshua urged as he pulled up a chair that allowed you to watch them without being in the way, “do you need water or anything?” You shook your head which made him laugh a bit, “You don’t talk very much do you?”

“She may just be shy, we can be pretty intimidating,” the one closest to him teased before looking at you, “I’m Mingyu by the way, the one over there is Jun-hyung.” Jun looked up long enough to smile at you but didn’t say anything. You muttered their names a bit under your breath in an attempt to remember them, though trying to recall the names of 13 people would probably give you quite a headache.

You watched them cook in silence, occasionally perking up to see what they were doing or when something smelled particularly good. The guys noticed and would laugh at your cute antics, occasionally muttering a soft “cute” or asking you questions to try to engage you. Jun also managed to sneak you a few tastes of meat as a “quality check” which annoyed Joshua a bit but he didn’t comment on it. Soonyoung appeared right when they were getting everything ready to serve. Immediately he made his way over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“There you are Y/N, I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said. You giggled and made a low humming noise as he scratched at your head.

“Don’t worry she was keeping us company,” Joshua assured, the others nodding. You couldn’t see Soonyoungs expression but he was smiling wider than humanly possible that you were getting along with some of the members. If they liked you, then maybe they would let you stay. That was the plan at least.

Breakfast was awkward though as all of the members began piling into the kitchen. Feeling crowded, you stayed hidden behind Soonyoung the entire time. You clung to him like your life depended on it, occasionally peeking over his shoulder or reaching around to grab food before retreating to hide behind him again. Any time one of them tried to talk to you, you could only answer with short answers or not at all due to nerves. Soonyoung and Joshua tried to direct some of the attention off of you to make you more comfortable but it only did so much. On the bright side, you were slowly beginning to learn who the rest of the guys were, taking notes of certain features to try and memorize who was who. It was after everyone had cleaned up and left to do their own thing that Seungcheol approached you and Soonyoung.

“I hate to bring things down, but we should probably start heading to the shelter,” he said, albeit a bit cautiously. Both of you visibly deflated which caused him to sigh, “Remember what we talked about last night, either way we would need to go and you know that.” Soonyoung sighed and nodded, trying to stand up only for you to latch onto his arm. You didn’t want to go to the shelter, you wanted to stay. What if they decided that they didn’t want you and left you there? The thought made you tear up a bit as you clung to him.

“Do we really have to go?” you pleaded, “I don’t want to go back to the shelter, I want to stay with you!” Soonyoung frowned and softened at your actions, gently shaking you off his arm before hugging you gently. Seungcheol stayed quiet and stared at you both awkwardly, not knowing how to feel about this whole thing. Of course he felt bad for you seeing how attached you seem to be already, and he had told Soonyoung they’d think about adopting you. However they were idols and could barely take care of themselves at times. In the rare chance that you were a stray, how were they supposed to manage you living with them? Financial and time factors set aside, you would have to learn to get along with 13 housemates with different personalities. There was no way that would be a good idea.

“It’ll be quick Kitty I promise,” Soonyoung assured, shushing you and petting your hair to calm you down. Seungcheol sighed and glanced out the window before returning his attention back to the two of you. Why did this have to be so complicated?

“We just need to make sure you’re alright,” he assured, smiling at you softly. That seemed to convince you and you nodded softly. Keeping a grip on Soonyoungs hand, you followed the two of them out of the dorm and out to the waiting car.

Stepping into the shelter gave you major flashbacks, shrinking behind both males as you approached the counter. A bit of talking and a few questions for Soonyoung and you were reluctantly being led into the back where the hybrid rooms were. You were directed into the closest one, taking a seat on the freshly made cot and staring at the wall as you were examined. “Alright, I just need to ask you a few questions and we’ll be done, okay?” the shelter tech asked. You nodded softly, not taking your attention off the wall as you answered to the best of your abilities.

The whole chair was basically shaking with Soonyoung as he bounced his leg impatiently. Seungcheol was beside him and trying to distract him with small talk but gave up and decided to play on his phone instead. Every what-if question was running through Soonyoungs head as he tried to prepare for the worst case scenario while also hoping for the best.

The younger practically leaped out of his seat when the tech walked into the room, bowing softly to them both before taking a seat at the desk.

“You guys are here regarding Y/N correct?” they asked, humming when the males nodded, “were you interested in a potential adoption or just surrendering her to us?”

“Adoption!” Soonyoung perked up before Seungcheol could say anything, causing the older to groan. The tech gave them a confused look before continuing.

“Well if you are interested in an adoption it is possible. Our records indicate her last home surrendered ownership a few weeks ago. As the one who rescued her you would have the rights of ownership first, you would just have to fill out the paperwork and pass a few evaluations.” Soonyoung got visibly excited by this but Seungcheol decided to speak up before he could get too ahead of herself.

“What exactly would the paperwork and evaluations be?” he asked.

“Wild hybrids, especially rare breeds require a bit more special care so we need to make sure you guys would be a good match. Aside from the legal paperwork we need to assess things like financial status, home condition, and given Y/Ns condition we need to analyze her health and behavior to see if she has any special needs. Overall just to make sure that you and the hybrid will be safe and happy to prevent anything from happening.” There was silence as both males thought it over.

“How long would all of this take?” Soonyoung asked.

“Once everything is filled out probably a day or two, you guys could come back and complete the adoption process as soon as you are approved.” Soonyoungs heart dropped when he realized that meant that, no matter what, you would be stuck here for a few days. He had promised you could stay with him and he was starting to feel like he was breaking that promise. Before he could say anything though, Seungcheol was grabbing his hand and speaking again.

“We have a few roommates we need to discuss this with, could we come back tomorrow to fill everything out if we decide to?” He asked. Getting the confirmation that they could, he thanked the tech before walking out. Easier said than done though as he had to drag out a protesting Soonyoung. The younger male whining and pulling against his leader as he kept muttering his promise that he would come back as if you would be able to hear him.

“Stay strong Y/N, I promise I’ll be back soon!”

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the-slasher-files · 2 years

Text

WERE YOU THE ONE?

-PLAYTHING SERIES-

Hello friends! I have said a little on my blog that I want to change up my writing a little and make it what I am really proud of, making it more about the human condition and raw emotions, really diving into characters rather than smut or just fantasy land. I still love all that stuff but for right now I just wanna push myself, but ANYWAY, I think this is the beginning of a series with Andrei and his playthings; each one different and unique from the other. WARNINGS: Dark, death, captured victim, violence, gore, mentions of rape... Hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

With heavy eyelids, you couldn't tell what he had done to you anymore, what was just sore melted into what was throbbing and searing on your skin. Dark purple bruises mixed with the ruptured deep scarlet of the broken blood vessels beneath your now damaged skin. What would fade, he would replace. It was that simple. The tears had dried up as you lay just staring out the shattered window high up on the concrete basement wall stained by years of blood, bodily fluids, rust and whatever ancient goop leaked from the cracked pipes above. The heavy wind gusted sharp ice particles down into the dungeon and you didn't even flinch anymore; Your skin was numb and the true loss of feeling within your extremities was merely an afterthought. Images of your family, friends and home life danced into your head only to be clouded by the torture a man... No. A monster had put you through. You lost count of the days as your tally marks on the damp walls faded into ones from the others, by what you could tell, you had been in the Wolf's dominion the longest. Convoluted reasons circled inside you of why such a beast held you here for days, weeks and possibly months. Just days ago he brought down an old military radio and tapped into one of your hometown news stations - somehow this man found out exactly who you were without conversation and knew everything about you - where they announced the search for your body was called off, no one was searching for you any longer. You had shut down for days as he left you, occasionally coming back to release his needs and provide the odd meal here or there but you didn't touch it anymore. A wolf within a man had broken you little by little and there was not much left.

Turning your head slightly you heard the heavy footsteps of combat boots coming down the battered building's metal stairs, a sound that instinctively made your body tense and eyes become focused on the rusted thick door.

"Myyyshka..." The man called every time to you while opening the heavy door and closing it behind him, however, this time he didn't say it. Your head must have imaged it, became trained by him like a fucking dog.

Shaking hands grabbed the wool blanket around your now wasting away frame of a body. You knew him as Sir, Daddy, The Wolf and whatever else he needed you to call him as he ruined you thoroughly, but you had read his real name, Andrei Kulokova. You had read it just last night when he, by almost a miracle, fell asleep beside you. It felt like a dream that such a monster from nightmares could be so peaceful laying in a bed, sheltering your body from the cold and holding you tight. At first, when Andrei would lay next to you, you pushed away or laid stiff as a board trying to not be completely repulsed by such a man, but shamefully over time, his body was a sanctuary when he laid calm, running large scared hands along your skin. You began to smell the softness of warm tea and cedar underneath the tobacco mixed with harsh masculine musk. As any human would be, you were starved for the gentle affection and the tender heat of a body to hold you and you guessed he was too.

"You didn' eat again?" Andrei asked looking down at the full plate of food he brought for you last night before he 'played' with what was his. The kick of the tray that scrapped on concrete made you flinch, slowly sitting up; your back resting on the wire frame.

He wasn't the same today, that much you could tell from within the bounds that held you. The shield of a beast was set down and he was just a man which set your nerves on fire, maybe he had a bad day and he was here to take it out on you. Carefully, he would lull you into false senses of security presenting himself differently like a shapeshifter just to play with his prey.

"Waste..." He simply spoke with a shake of his head, observing the damp room to see if you had done anything to it however it was faster than usual when he looked at you.

Ice blue eyes - their true colour when he wasn't lost in wicked rapture- gazed at yours then along the marks he made, and you squinted slightly trying to read a new emotion forming in the pools of blue... remorse? That was just for humans, but then again he had shown you the soft sides of a wounded wolf before; Times when he told you of his childhood, his uncle, a sister he only mentioned once and how his dad was murdered. A creature that longed for something more. Something more than a tortured life in the tundra.

Blinking away thoughts about more to his life Andrei stalked forward slowly like he recanted the memories here. "As cruel as my uncle was, he never starved us..." he paused and a smirk curled on the man's lips, one that would betray what he would say next "only when he would drive me to forest and chain me as young boy to the thick tree, leaving me alone to find way back home"

You could smell him now and your breathing increased slightly as the wolf was at arm's length, pulling out a white cigarette from a ripped carton with gloved fingers. Placing the poison between his lips, Andrei towered above you standing intimidatingly as he always did and lit the cigarette.

"Hands" A cold demand fell and without a thought, you presented them palms up but weakly as you slowly began to shake. Starvation was kicking in with dehydration but you couldn't care anymore. There was a strange need for him now, you wanted to die and didn't want to eat or drink but if he took care of you there might be a reason to live.

There was a sigh that left through his nose as his lips were occupied. Gazing at you then back to your hands seeing the tremble and the loss of colour within them. He knew, sadly, you couldn't come back from this and somewhere deep in your heart you knew it too; Feeling like some child that had been scolded for not doing as you were told while the wolf looked down at you.

With a tensing of his jaw, Andrei undid the chains and cuffs on your wrists and ankles, metal hitting the floor with a clang you rubbed your raw wrists and began to curl your knees to your chest. Removing the cigarette from his lips, smoke blew from the wolf's greedy mouth coating your body warmly before his gloved thumb stroked your gaunt cheek.

"It has been long time. Longer than the rest that came here..." Ironic choices of words, ones that made your stomach turn but rub like a cat into his dangerous hand. "I've had you as I've healed from mission in Belarus."

There was the tender side of the shapeshifter, sitting before you; Hard features laid soft and he shifted slightly to show the pain in his left leg, something of an act he put on but yet he was so human. Wolf's fur ripped off to reveal the man with the canines of hounds. Andrei brought the cigarette back between his lips and let it hang, eyes watching yours intently seeing the putty he moulded you into, however, you weren't all gone when he leaned forward there was the heavy tension in your muscles. He felt it beneath those fucked up hands and he stopped altogether. A pained look ran through the wolf's features, he did this, they always tensed.

Your ribs hurt with each move but you saw him pull away, looking towards the floor and bringing his hands down, the unnatural way his body held remorse made you sick, it made you lean forward towards the large Russian despite the way you shook.

Head leaned against the broad shoulder of the wolf, you looked up at his sharp face like some sort of wounded puppy to its owner. "Three gunshots to my leg... Someone lying low when I walked into rain of bullets from the top of bridge" Andrei paused a moment before looking at you, his gloved thumb running across your lips roughly before forcing your mouth open, which by this point in time was with ease. "He was a bastard... and I wish I could hear his scream again, and again. The gurgles of that blood"

Like a switch, those gentle ice blue eyes became a bitter, deadly tundra such as the one you would die on. A sharp inhale of desire could be heard as the wolf gathered himself, licking the very chops that had bit into your skin countless times. The change in Andrei's demeanour forced your body back but he laughed lowly, still holding your jaw and he placed the burning cigarette on your tongue as you flinched and whimpered feeling the hot ash melting taste buds quickly. Cheap tobacco was overwhelming but you still did not dare to look away from the beast before you.

"My good little trained toy." He whispered, closing your abused mouth. "Swallow, baby. Swallow like I know you can" Andrei's lips began to kiss so sweetly against the repulsive action, upon your temple, to your brow and once you coerced the hot, disgusting ash down he kissed your lips with a strange tenderness.

Covered fingertips tangled into your messy locks as he whispered "You were so fucking good to me... but Daddy has to go" A sweet praise that fed your trapped soul turned wickedly empty. Cold eyes bore into yours wide and innocent just like a baby deer.

Your head couldn't move as fast as the wolf's blade did.

Hot and piercing, the large hunting knife had been plunged deep within your maimed abdomen and the wolf before you slowly began to lay your soon-to-be lifeless corpse on the aged bed. Those keen eyes were almost euphoric as he never looked away, resting his forehead on yours. The scarlet ran warmly and pooled slowly on the concrete below his boot.

"A-An..." You faded, writing and twisting feeling the knife with each movement. Tears fell uncontrollably and mouth agape as you could taste the hot metallic.

"ssshhh... little myshka" Andrei hushed you, tearing the blade up between your chest now, gutting you like an animal he hunted. It seemed so easy with his strength to just rip you open but something fell onto his keen features. A drip of guilt. A wolf taking what was his again felt tainted this time. You could've been the one. Your tenderness, the way you fought him he loved, but you let yourself fall too deep away and he let it happen.

The wolf's inked palm pressed with increasing pressure upon your throat. The pain all flowed away like the restricted breath and your blood was endless in rivers. He looked so handsome.

"You were so good, so, so fucking good" Andrei snarled, his mind twisting and losing itself within the kill and the overcoming darkness in your orbs. He kissed you roughly hearing the bones breaking under his hands as your ribcage opened and the cracking of cartilage in your throat, pulling a sinisterly hot moan from the Russian.

Backing off from the kiss, blood covered his lips and chin to see the last needing look of plee shifting into bliss before the final flutter of your eyelids.

"... Thank you" he whispered holding onto the last ounce of humanity Andrei had hearing his uncle's repulsive voice in the back of his mind, be grateful for the hunt.

He stilled overtop of your body, still warm; a warmth that seemed to never be enough for his rapture. His large frame tensed in waves seeing what he had done to another one, someone that could have loved him with brutality as he did, however, that could never happen, a beast laid within a man's bones and that would never change.

It would never change.

#andrei kulokova #my writing #slasher #horror #slashers #oc #original character #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction #x you #x s/o #x reader

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annieoftheshitposts · 2 years

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GOD right yeah so the scrapped arg. this stuff is OLD, like, from 2018 ok. but even if it never went anywhere i did have a ton of fun coming up with the mechanics and story, and did a decent bit of groundwork for getting it set up, so this is a long post with a lot of images.

for a good long while i was kicking around the idea of a doing “double takeover” thing where, for one reason or another, annie would just be Not Around, and not the one answering questions. just suddenly switch to double shapeshifted as annie and never comment on it until someone tried to point it out. i did a handful of sketches exploring this.

the sword? you mean this sword that ive defintiely always had and didn’t just shapeshift out of my body? yeah it’s a cool sword.

i like to imagine double would just be really fucking salty about any praise annie gets too. and then the inevitable heel turn when someone Did catch on and call her out.

it never really went anywhere because frankly annie’s too powerful for most forces in the sg universe to be able to keep her restrained somewhere against her will; there was a vague idea about her somehow having gotten separated from sagan, which would not only severely nerf her power but also provide prime angst material. ultimately though it was all still just idle musings, until i started thinking about how i was gonna handle annie’s eventually being included in indivisible, and how to do asks with the characters in that game.

so first off, there was gonna be this whole Mechanic™ for how she passed between the two games; nothing super fancy, if anyone remembers star vs. the forces of evil and how the “dimensional scissors” worked there, it’s pretty much the same thing. just a little trinket she can pull out and make portals/holes between game universes.

second, only annie and sagan can use the said portals; any other characters or objects that try to go through, from either side, are met with a sort of ‘compatibility error’; just in that the programming to let them exist isn’t present in the other game, and so they can’t pass through. anything else that does try to go through just kind of gets vaporized. momentarily. it re-materializes a few seconds later, wherever it was last before trying to go through so nbd. yknow the material emancipation grids from portal? it’s like that but it just sort of rewinds stuff a few seconds instead of killing it.

i was going to have beowulf try to follow her into indivis world and then promptly get vaporized to demonstrate this, which would have been really funny. for me. not so much for annie, watching it happen.

dont worry though hes fine. again it’s only momentary, it just caught them off-guard. i could never hurt dear sweet beowulf.

so anyway we go on answering asks normally with annie going back and forth between indivis and sg for awhile; however long it takes to get comfortable with the game-hopping mechanic, and then at one point when we’re Supposed to have her travel back to sg-verse, i just pull out the pink double-annies and say Nothing. this is where the arg begins.

the first leg of this is figuring out what the hell happened to annie. someone would have to call double out for Not Being Annie and start questioning her about what happened, and at some point i’d find a way to slip in that double has been using “console commands” on the blog, which you are to also then do. i did actually make the console command page, though it’s still 100% in messy beta test phase and there’s not really anything there that finalized or presentable or functional. but it exists and you can go look at it if you want, i don’t intend on deleting it. the important thing there is the “camera focus” toggle/links; this would have been the main gimmick of the arg. the camera is, by default, set to “main”, which is this “annieoftheshitposts” blog. annie is the player character here who receives the asks, so there’s not usually any discrepancy. however, now, with her being missing, when you toggle the camera to view the “player character”, you’re brought to a DIFFERENT blog, where the real annie is, and where you are met with a post of annie now getting the whole “being vaporized when she tries to pass between games” deal.

very rough bc i only drew it for testing/placeholder purposes but you get the idea. so anyways then you’d send annie questions on this Other blog to ask her what’s going on and get her caught up to speed what you know about double being on the main one now, etc. at some point you would be told about an Additional camera control, to let you see/go to a Third blog with venus and aeon to send THEM asks and get further information. [fun fact, if you remember my venus redesign? this is what it was for!] anyway we’d spend a good bit of time here just bouncing back and forth questioning the characters and relaying information between them to piece together what was going on.

and what’s going on is this: you know how in that one ending it’s shown that venus and aeon have a Physical Cartridge of the game skullgirls? they noticed annie had been slipping in and out of the game/sg universe, and thought “hey, wouldn’t it be neat if we could lock her out permanently so she’s not always fucking up our endeavors?” and then they hacked/modded their game; specifically to remove/patch annie out so that she gets the same ‘compatibility error’ thing when trying to return home and just becomes Stuck in indivis universe. yknow the whole shtick with vanellope in wreck-it ralph? pretty much that.

so then the second leg of the arg is getting her written/coded back IN to the skullgirls ‘verse. i never really figured out much about this part though. i was doing some stuff on twinery about like, passwords or something; you’d have to go on this whole goose chase to find them and then enter them on there and it’d let you access the actual stuff to do the little ‘coding’ activities or whatever. i dont know it has been like 4 years since i was actively planning all this. but anyway once all that is Done you’d go back to annie to let her know, and then she can go back home to this main blog to beat double’s ass and get things back to normal. the end!

but yeah i killed this blog to go focus on working with my own original stuff, and then indivisible itself also Fucking Died before annie ever got added, so all this is 200% never happening. but now you know.

#skullgirls #annie (skullgirls)#annie of the stars

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byunbaekby · 4 years

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title — a clouded fate pairing — badboy!mark lee x female reader featuring — lucas wong/wong yukhei, johnny seo, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta (mentioned), lee donghyuck (mentioned) word count — 17.2k overall warnings — extreme drug use, drug dealing, alcohol use, language, religion, addiction, drug overdose, vomiting, one explicit smut scene smut warnings — fingering, protected sex (stay safe, always!), high sex, corruption kink for like 0.2 seconds, degradation collab — bad boy bingo collab, link here lyrics inspiration — “call it quits, call it destiny.” bruno major, easily ; “gotta stay high all the time, to keep you off my mind.” tove lo, habits writing playlist — link here

author’s message — oh my gosh, it’s finally here! this has been a work in progress basically ever since early summer, when i started writing on this blog. this is one of my favorite pieces i’ve ever written, but not because writing it came easy to me; quite the opposite. i scrapped and rewrote this three times, consulted many people for their opinions because i simply didn’t think that it was good. a few thank you’s: my babe @jensungf for reading the first draft when it was at barely 5k, the lovely @ncteaxhoe for reading it at 7k and also the night i finished it, @taempteng the writing god for proofing it for me, and my amazing @starlit-jeno for getting me through everything. also thank you @legendnct for hosting this collab! it’s finally at a place where i am happy and very very proud of what i’ve written. i hope you all read and enjoy!

—DAY ONE.

The ice cold water thrown over him shocks Mark awake from his post-high sleep.

“What the hell, man?” He exclaims, wiping the water from his face as he sits up in his bed, soaked t-shirt sticking to the curve of his clavicles. His eyes meet the source of the intrusion: his roommate and best friend Lucas, holding a now empty pitcher.

“Dude. It’s past noon. Wake up.”

Lucas’ passive words only make Mark furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “Shut the fuck up bitch, I’m awake.”

“Someone’s feisty today.” Lucas retorts, tossing Mark a towel as he swings his legs over the bed. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he recognizes his best friend’s chastising tone in his diluted ears. “When did you get back last night? What were you doing?”

“Calm down,” Mark groans, the volume of Lucas’ voice beginning to hurt his head. Running a hand through his now wet hair, he responds, “I was smoking with Yuta. Got back around three in the morning.”

“Yuta,” mumbles Lucas. “You know, I don’t like him. You’re always with him, getting high or something. Exams start soon, and you’re not planning to study at all? You’ve been high every day for what, like, the past two weeks?”

This early morning lecture is enough to cause Mark’s irritation to spike. Since when is Lucas so nitpicky? Last time he checked, Lucas enjoys partying just as much as he does. Sometimes, even more than Mark himself. “Fuck, are you my roommate or my mom?”

“I’m your best friend, is what I am. I’m worried about you. All you do is party, get high, and sleep. When was the last time you even ate?” Before Mark can even think back to answer that, Lucas continues, “You’ve been like this since you broke up with Y/N, and—”

Mark cuts him off. “Don’t say her name.”

“You’re hurting, Mark. And this isn’t the right way to handle it.”

“Oh, so you take one psychology course and you think you’re an expert or something,” Mark scoffs.

This seems to stunt his roommate for a second, before he sighs looking down at the image of his best friend sitting on the edge of his bed, gaunt eyes and all. The last time he saw his friend looking so pitiful was when his dad had passed. “I’m just worried about you. You should let me be, sometimes,” replies Lucas quietly.

“I’m an adult,” says Mark, which causes Lucas to scoff and respond, “Then act like one.” Annoyed, Mark stands and instead takes a seat at his desk chair.

The taller male speaks up once again, starting to tear off Mark’s bed sheets that are now wet. “You need to stop. This isn’t good for you. Stop the drugs and tell Johnny you’re done. Study for your finals. Get your act together, stop acting like an idiot, and go get her back.”

When he finishes stripping the sheets and looks up, Mark’s head is in his hands. “It’s not that easy.”

“You love her.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” Mark finally says as he looks up, voice raised in frustration at both the situation and the fact that his best friend is calling him out for it. “We can’t be together,” he declares. “I’m only going to ruin her. She’s good. I’m bad. She has a future. I don’t. She’s everything I’m not and I can’t mess it up for her. Not after... Not after—” Lucas cuts his friend off, sensing that he’s about to start hyperventilating.

“I know. What happened, you can’t change it. It was your fault. But don’t say you’re not meant to be together. Nothing’s going to change the past. You broke up. But nothing’s going to bring you back together but yourself.”

Mark stares at Lucas with tired, red-rimmed eyes, wondering when his tall goofy friend had grown so much. Has everything around him changed, matured, while he stayed the same?

“How do I do that?” He finally relents.

“Make yourself good enough for her. Start with the drugs. Stop doing them.”

He knows the truth in that statement, but doesn’t want to acknowledge it. It’s a lot easier said than done. With no words to say, Mark stands and starts to walk past his friend toward the bathroom. On the way out, he accidentally kicks his guitar, on the floor propped on the wall. “Fuck,” he curses, looking down at the old wooden thing.

Lucas follows him out as he leaves the room, and Mark steps into the bathroom. Opening the mirror cabinet, he pulls out his prescription bottle which shakes with noise. Silently he pops a pill into his mouth and swallows it with a handful of tap water. It’s probably a bad idea on an empty stomach, but he’ll eat whatever Lucas is making right after.

“That includes the Xanax, Mark!” Lucas’ voice calls from the kitchen.

“Baby steps,” he responds, staring endlessly into the pitiful character watching him in the mirror.

—THE FIRST NIGHT

It isn’t his first party, but it’s his first college party. There’s a big difference.

The scale is larger, the alcohol more plentiful. And more importantly, the shame of being under the influence is nonexistent. His ziploc of kush feels heavy in his pocket, but he knows he’ll feel lighter with its effect later on. School’s only been in session a week, yet Mark’s already decided he likes university more than high school.

He hasn’t smoked yet, but clearly others have, from the haze wafting from room to room. The music is loud, the air is musty, and there’s a cloud of visible smoke surrounding a group of people in the corner. He can smell it now, the familiar scent relaxing him in a new environment.

He’s about to venture out to said group, catching Lucas’ ashy gray hair (a horrible decision, really) sticking out from its inhabitants, but then something catches his eye.

In a room of dark gray smoke and purple LED lights, a white dress catches his attention. He turns his head and, faded by the blurred intensity of the smoke, there you are. Leaning with your back against the wall, alone. You’re not doing much, just standing there in your awkward lonesome looking entirely out of place while swirling the contents of your red cup in your hand. With seemingly no move to drink it, you’re staring blankly into said cup, and Mark stares blankly at you. The white fabric of your dress seems to vividly attract the iridescent purple lights of the party, leaving you to stand out in the massive crowd. Though from the way you stand out from the crowd, it seems that that’s the last thing you want to do; you’d rather blend into the scene.

But you don’t. You’re a beacon of white light in the gray bleakness of the party, and Mark contemplates his next action. He had promised Lucas that he’d be his wingman to try and win over Yuqi. But there’s something about you that pulls him.

Oh well, he muses to himself as he slides across the room toward you. It’s not his fault Lucas needs a wingman to talk to girls, and he doesn’t.

“Hey,” he starts, trying to make himself heard above the music. “You’re staring at that thing like you need a refill.”

At the sound of his voice you look up as though suddenly startled. Then your eyes land on him and Mark’s not entirely sure if he’s sane, but you relax. “No thanks,” you respond politely. “I don’t drink.”

“Really?” Mark glances at his red Solo cup, half filled with some sordid mixture of vodka and Fanta that Doyoung had given him earlier.

“Is that strange?” You ask curiously as he makes move to lean on the wall next to you. Except rather than lean his back to it, he presses his shoulder to the wall to face you.

“A bit.” Mark says as he tilts his head back, pressing the red cup to his lips as he downs the rest of the liquid in his cup.

“Maybe. I’ve learned that there are more people who drink in college than people who don’t… I guess I fall into the second category.” When he finishes his drink, he tosses it over his shoulder.

“Nah,” he says in response. “I don’t really drink either. Only occasionally. I’m already a mess with the weed, imagine how much I’d be if I was an alcoholic.” He nearly expects you to laugh at his lame attempt at being playful, but he’s met with silence. Still, he doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows quirk slightly upward at his words. Right now, dark hair tousled and dark ripped jeans decorating his legs, Mark thinks he looks pretty good. But you don’t seem to be as interested as girls in the past.

“You smoke…” Your words trail and Mark finds himself enraptured by the form of your lips as you talk. His mind flies, but you continue, “How’s that like?”

He shrugs. “It’s nothing, really. Just fun. I have some right now if you want,” he says, patting his jean pocket.

“Oh, no,” you immediately recoil, as if it were preposterous. Immediately your eyes widen and you shake your head at him. “Not-not that people who do it are bad or anything! It’s just… not my thing.”

If you didn’t drink or enjoy any substances, what were you doing here? He asks this aloud.

“My roommate dragged me,” you explain. “We’ve only been living together for a week since the year started but she’s… something else. I’ve seen her smoke more than I’ve seen her study.”

You almost sound scared. This causes a laugh to leave his lips, and yours. He’s finding, in the mere two minutes of conversation you’ve made, that you are very different from the girl he thought you were across the room. You were indeed like your dress that attracted him: bright, pure, and comfortable.

And he wants you.

Your silence brings about Mark’s introduction. “I’m Mark, by the way.” His hand stretches out to you and you stare for a second.

“Y/N.” You place your hand in his, and from the jolt he feels in his heart, the first of its kind, that is the first time that Mark Lee believes in the existence of fate.

—FIVE HOURS CLEAN.

If someone had told Mark in his freshman year of high school that he would become a drug dealer in college, he would have directed them to his father’s church and told them to pray a bit.

Yes, prior to his entrance to adulthood and the cruel, cruel world, Mark Lee was a church boy. A good boy. He did well in school, dedicated his weekends to church and playing basketball with his boys. Up and down the high school halls, his signature laugh could be heard at any moment he wasn’t in class.

Then the summer before his senior year, Pastor Lee passed from cancer and Mark’s boisterous laughter became a long forgotten sound.

It was two weeks after his dad’s funeral that he met Donghyuck, a boy with shady eyes who offered him some kush. Just want to try it, Mark had tried to reason with his conscience when he took that first hit behind the school. Then he fell into the fatal world of drugs and partying. Lucas had been there since their junior high days, sad to see his friend fall so poorly, and he had forced Mark to get his shit together for graduation that year. Barely.

So yes, he was once the bright eyed boy he always wanted to be, who read the Bible front to back and wouldn’t have known how to roll a joint, but that was fantasy. He wasn’t that anymore. He’s a college student trying to get along with the little money he can make from selling weed and other things. He had first gotten into this when he met Johnny Seo, two years above him who could tell that Mark was struggling to make tuition and rent with a job at McDonald’s. Now Johnny has graduated and Mark is still doing his dirty work for him.

That’s exactly what he’s doing now, standing outside Taeyong’s house a little past 6PM with a pouch of kush in his bag.

It’s easy money, but that never calms his nerves.

Even when the door opens to reveal Taeyong, shirtless and red hair in disarray, Mark doesn’t stop bouncing his foot in worry. His restlessness isn’t lost on Taeyong, who had obviously just woken up. “It’s 6PM,” Mark says, eyebrow raised at his appearance.

“I was up all night working on a track.” Taeyong’s eyes flicker to Mark’s bouncing foot. “You’re bouncier than normal,” he comments as he counts his bills in his hand.

“Haven’t had my fix today.” Mark explains simply as the older male hands over a wad of cash. As he counts it silently, Taeyong points his thumb over his shoulder to his living room.

“Wanna come in and hit some?”

Mark looks up at his offer and sighs inwardly. It would be rather easy to just give in and smoke a bit with someone he trusted, and he wouldn’t even be paying for the weed. He’s tempted. After weeks of being stoned nearly every day, he’s starting to itch for a fix. But Lucas’ gruff voice rings in his mind and he knows that if he gives in, only five hours in, he’ll never be able to live with himself. So for now he does it for Lucas, but maybe in time he’ll see that it was for himself after all.

“I’m good.” Mark nearly shoves the pouch of green into Taeyong’s grasp, wanting to be away from it as soon as possible. The red-haired recipient only blinks.

“You’re giving it up or something?”

“Or something,” mumbles Mark sullenly, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“That’s good,” Taeyong declares after a short silence. Mark looks up, meeting Taeyong’s suddenly sincere eyes. “Good for you. I really couldn’t believe that you got into that stuff with Johnny’s crowd anyways.” Mark only shrugs in response. He’d long since stopped deliberating over that. This is his life now. “Still doing music?”

“In name, yeah, I’m still a music major. But I don’t have time to play.” The last time he touched his guitar was this morning when he had kicked it. The last time before that… he doesn’t know if he can’t remember due to a marijuana induced haze or if it’s because it really has been that long.

Taeyong continues. “You know, you don’t have to do this stuff. You’re a talented guy, you’re strong. If you could dedicate yourself to your music like you do to dealing, you wouldn’t need to deal.”

This brings about a sigh from Mark. Who is Taeyong to tell him what to do, anyways? Last time he checked, he was the customer, not Mark. “You all make it sound so easy.”

“Trust me. You can do it.”

—THE FIRST KISS

The first time Mark kisses you, it’s cold outside.

He’s walking you back to your sharehouse, down the streets of town, when he asks, “Be honest with me and tell me if that date sucked.”

It’s been a couple weeks since the two of you first met that fated night at Doyoung’s party, and you’ve only now allowed him to take you out on a date. He doesn’t know that it’s your first. Well, in some ways, it’s his also.

Mark’s been on a few dates, sure, but those all ended up with him getting his dick wet in the dark parking lot of a Burger King or something. He’d normally take them out for fast food, and finish with the usual fun stuff in his back seat. This time it’s… different. Not only does he figure that you wouldn’t be down for that type of date, but something in him wants it to be different. The only problem is he doesn’t know how to plan a good date.

He still took you out to get McDonalds’, but instead of retreating to the backseat, he drove the two of you to the movie theatre. It was probably a dumb choice of him in hindsight, deciding to watch an action movie, but something about the way you hid your face into his neck when one of the characters got punched out made him smile.

“No, it wasn’t… bad,” you respond, swinging your interlaced hands. You had surprised him earlier when you had grabbed his hand upon exiting his car, curling your fingers together.

“You’re lying,” he sighs.

“No, I’m not. Really,” you reassure him as the two of you approach the door of your home. After all, how can you have a bad date when you’ve never been on a date before? You have nothing to compare it to. “I had a good time. Actually… it was my first date.”

Mark blinks, having not expected that to be so. A groan leaves his lips as his free hand comes up to run through his hair. “Oh god, and I ruined it.”

“No, no, it was perfect. I wouldn’t change it for anything.” You smile a sickeningly sweet, charming smile at him, and he sighs. You’re too good for a guy like him.

He’s beyond surprised actually—even though you know of his habits, his hobby of wasting time and rolling joints, you haven’t run away like others. And he likes you. A lot. Even though everything tells him that what he does is bad for you, he still wants you. You’re a comfortable presence in his life.

“You know,” you suddenly start. Mark looks up, intrigued. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He wonders if the surprise on his face is painfully evident. “Really? Like, ever?”

His question is met with a shake of your head, and he blinks. So you’ve never drank or smoked. That, he can believe. But the fact that you’ve never kissed anyone? Sometimes… you shock him with your boldness. Like earlier when you grabbed his hand and at your first meeting when you had asked for his phone number before he could. But in some moments like now, he realizes just how the duality of your personality comes into play.

“Why’s that?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, it never really felt right,” you explain as the two of you approach your doorstep. As he escorts you up the steps and to your front door, he furrows his brows deeper. Why were you telling him this?

“Does it feel right, now?” He asks softy, gaze flickering to your interlaced hands as he turns to face you. His hand reaches forward, cupping your cheek, the touch soft despite the callused skin of his hands.

“Yes,” you respond gently, simpering smile on your roseate tiers.

The smile on your face is sweet and pure, two words that Mark isn’t.

A flood of relief shows on Mark’s face, and you bite down on your lower lip as excitement bubbles in your stomach. “Can I kiss you?” A response quickly follows. For some reason he can’t quite figure out, you let him into the maze that is you. Despite the leather jacket, his messy hair, and the lingering smell of weed on his clothes, you want him just as much as he wants you. Even though you both know that he isn’t the type of guy that you normally like, the type of guy that your mother would approve of, you trust him. It’s bewildering to him.

Then he guides you to him. Within seconds his lips are on yours, and you melt into him. It’s surely not Mark’s first kiss but it feels like it. The initial awkwardness, then the heat on his cheeks as you both fall into a rhythm. It feels right, like it was meant to be, just as Mark had hoped.

You’re like the kind of irreplicable drug that Mark has sought after for years. The kind that brings a euphoric high which burns his lungs and twists his stomach, but in all the right ways.

—29 HOURS CLEAN.

The smell filling the kitchen leads Lucas to scrunch his nose in distaste when he exits his room. “Dude, what the hell is that smell?”

His answer lies in the pan on the stove and Mark standing in the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon. Clad in only basketball shorts, he looks absolutely foreign to the environment. Lucas sighs. “Please tell me you’re not boiling crack right here in our kitchen.”

The face the Korean makes is scandalized. “What—no, what the fuck? It’s mapo tofu. I’d be insane to try and make crack cocaine.” He adds under his breath, “In the apartment.”

Lucas leans back against the counter, cocking an eyebrow. “Then why are you cooking mapo tofu of all things? I haven’t seen you eat anything but ramen and eggs probably since we moved in here. And—put on a shirt if you’re cooking, or an apron at least. You look like a caveman.”

“Well,” sounds Mark with a roll of his eyes at his friend’s expected lecturing. “I had a shirt on, but I spilled some spicy shit on it and took it off. And I,” he pauses, turning off the stove. “I thought we could eat your favorite food together before we head out to Hendery’s party. You know, as a… sorry for being a bitch yesterday apology.”

The taller man narrows his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to make sense of his best friend’s words. “So you… decided to make my favorite food because you felt bad that I had to wake you up and take care of your shit?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Lucas laughs, a deep sound, whilst shaking his head. “Dude, I’ve been doing that since middle school and you’re only apologizing now?”

Mark purses his lips, making a face of annoyance. “Better late than never.”

“I guess. But sorry, I wouldn’t want to eat your mapo tofu anyways. Smells more like my week’s laundry than food. Maybe next time just order from that Chinese place around the corner that I actually like,” advises Lucas.

A pitiful laugh leaves Mark’s lips. “Duly noted.”

“And anyways, I’m not going to Hendery’s party. I have plans.” This causes Mark to finally take a good look at his friend. He’s normally well-dressed, but tonight he looks even better, a little too fancy for the typical college frat party. Before Mark can even question what these other plans are, Lucas explains, “I have a date with—”

“Yuqi,” finishes Mark for him. “Figured.” Lucas grabs his wallet on the counter, nodding before tucking it into his pant pocket. “Is that why you haven’t been partying with us? Or why you’ve suddenly been on this, ‘Mark, sobriety is key’ rant?” Mark questions, lowering his voice to imitate that of his roommate’s. At Lucas’ silence, Mark scoffs. “Dude, your relationship is so fucked up, how many times are you guys going to try to make it work when it doesn’t?”

All that leaves Lucas is a sigh, but Mark continues. “This is what, your third breakup so far? And fourth time trying to make it work?”

“Some things are worth the effort,” replies Lucas easily, slipping on his shoes. As he reaches to tie his laces, Mark continues, “She takes up all of your time now, you haven’t hung with us in months, and all for a relationship that’s destined to fail.”

“Nothing’s destined to fail, Mark. It’s all about how hard you’re willing to work for it.” His voice is calm, but there’s something building beneath it. To this, Mark sighs, and says, “You’ve changed, man.”

Lucas grabs his keys, clearly at the limit with Mark’s prodding. “Sometimes people are worth changing for, Mark. Yuqi forgave me for what I did, and I forgave her for what she did. We’re trying, okay? We’re not walking away. I’m sure…” The taller male pauses on his words, as though contemplating them, before continuing. “I’m sure Y/N would’ve forgiven you for what you did, but you walked away. And that’s where we’re different.”

It hits him, and Mark tightens his jaw. Yes, his relationship with Y/N was destined to fail too, there was no denying it. To fight with his friend who he had just tried to make amends with, or apologize? He goes with the latter, only because he’s too exhausted for a yelling match right now. “Lucas, I’m sorry, okay? I’m a little… on edge.”

“I know. I’ve known you for years,” chuckles Lucas softly. “I know how you get.”

“Yeah. Have fun on your date, though.”

His best friend nods tightly. “Yeah, I will. But if you care about what I told you, don’t go to the party tonight. You know you won’t be able to control yourself.” Mark nods, sighing. “And throw out that mapo tofu while you’re at it. It stinks, and not in the good way mapo tofu’s supposed to smell.”

Mark rolls his eyes while Lucas’ laugh fills his ears. “Just leave already.”

With a few smooth movements he’s already slid out the apartment door. A sigh leaves him, alone in the apartment. He does as Lucas says, tossing his attempt at dinner in the trash. It’s gonna be a long night.

—THE FIRST TASTE.

The first time that you kiss Mark, however, it’s hot inside his apartment and sweat sticks the fabric of your tank top to your stomach.

That doesn’t stop you from cuddling on his couch however, and you gaze up at him from your position under his arm to watch as your boyfriend, focused on the TV, lifts his blunt to his lips and takes a long drag. Underneath his arm, you observe how his lips wrap around the circumference of it, sucking in a sharp breath before releasing it into the air. He knows that over your time together, you’ve come to accept the smoking. It’s obviously clear to him that you don’t particularly approve, but Mark’s responsible enough to control himself. Now however, as you gaze up at him, you realize just how attractive your boyfriend is. Dark hair tousled and arms bared through his tank top, he looks so, so good. Somehow, he looks even better with the cig in his hand.

You never would have thought you’d fall for such a guy like him, but you keep falling. He’s not the good guy that you dreamed of, but that’s okay, because you make him good.

“Mark?” You ask, still looking up at him.

He hums in response, turning to look at you.

Your voice is soft as you ask, “Do you believe in destiny?”

Your boyfriend blinks at the sudden question. “Define destiny.”

“That like, we all have a predetermined fate. That everything happens for a reason, and every challenge is just a small piece in a bigger puzzle. That we all have soulmates we’re destined to be with.” Mark’s lips purse, pouting just the slightest in thought, a habit of his.

Does he?

It’s a question, because he used to. He used to be a good old Christian boy, of course he believed that God had a plan for everyone. Every tribulation was just something that would make him stronger in the end. Unfortunately, the last time Mark can remember being at church, he fucked one of the choir girls in the Bible study room.

He can’t really pinpoint when he stopped believing in fate. God? Yeah, sure he still believes in him, though the big guy upstairs will probably send him south for his irrefutable sins. But fate? Not really. If fate was real then it was really messed up to make him such a failure.

But, he realizes, gazing at the strands of hair matted to your forehead as a result of the hot summer weather, and the pure adulation in your eyes as you gaze up to him, that perhaps because of you, his destiny isn’t too bad. Sure, he’s a fuck up with addictions and demons, but he does pretty well by keeping you happy. Because you make him happy. A smooth, suave smile spreads across his lips like butter. “I didn’t before, but I do now.”

Your eyebrow perks up. “Now you do? Why’s that?”

His arm wrapped lazily around your shoulders allows him to pull your face close. With the same smile, he presses a number of kisses to your cheek (much to your sweet protest, complaining about his sweat and smoke). As though he attempts to mask his words against your skin, he mumbles, “Because I found you.”

Mark has never told you that he loves you; it’s a bit too intimate for him, who’s never been vulnerable in that way, and you, whose every first is him.

But he doesn’t have to say it, because you know it.

Your lips break out into a flustered smile, though you try to hide it from him. His quiet, unsaid confession fills you with glee and more importantly, confidence.

“Babe,” you tell him. This grabs his attention, because you rarely use such sweet nicknames. He attempts to respond, but you’re already sitting up and swinging yourself over to straddle his lap. Your movement brings about confusion on his features, and you take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position with him, but the first time you’ve made the initiative to do it yourself. Mark was always leading you. So you lean forward, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you kiss him.

You can probably taste the smoke on your tongue, but you’ve grown accustomed to that. Mark kisses back and grips your waist with his free hand, both shocked and amused by your sudden courage. Everything feels right, it’s like it’s destiny. He’s about to slip his tongue into your mouth but you break the connection, choosing instead to linger your lips over his. Your breath is hot on his as you finally speak.

“I want a puff.”

“Are you sure?” He looks up at you, nearly breathless at the sight of you atop him. Lip gloss smeared from your heated kiss, you look delectable. Your wide eyes, once depicting innocence, are now focused and curious. He knows you don’t necessarily approve of his habits, but here you are, sitting on top of him looking irresistible and asking for a taste.

“Yes,” you confirm, as though reassuring yourself. Mark had always liked you, been attracted to you because of the notion that you were innocent, pure, bright. Everything he was not. He had never wanted to taint you, yet his confession still hangs in the air.

But as he lifts his blunt to his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the diluted smoke into your waiting cavern, he starts to worry that this would be the beginning of a long downward spiral which would place no blame anywhere but on him.

—44 HOURS CLEAN.

The withdrawal forces him from his sleep at 5AM.

Mark wakes in a cold sweat, itching for a fix. That’s when he realizes how deep he really is.

Shit.

His fingers are shaking, so he moves to occupy them with the only thing he can think of. He drags himself out of bed, grabs his guitar, and makes his way out to the living room. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a window, he attempts to refamiliarize himself with the strings that he had abandoned. Lucas is still asleep, so he plucks quietly.

He has long since forgotten what it was like to lose himself in the sound.

There was once a time when he was passionate for something other than haze. It was music. The first time he touched a guitar, magic sprung through his fingers and he knew: he was made for this. Somehow, majoring in music composition and being forced to take so many theory and history classes had caused his passion to simmer. Now, it slowly burns again.

He doesn’t realize how the hours pass and the sun begins to shine between the blinds.

His mind brushes over what Taeyong had told him two days ago. Is this what he had been missing all this time? All the hours he spent blinded by a foggy smoked haze, had he been neglecting his own love for music? It’s amazing what he can accomplish when he takes a break from that life.

He starts to feel like the old Mark again.

For a second, he stops strumming and directs his gaze to outside the window. There’s not much to see except the college town, with the glimpse of the university itself just atop the hill, but he stares and relishes in the sight of the sunlight casting a glow over the town.

A knock on the door interrupts his deliberations.

A glance to the clock tells him it’s barely 9AM. Who would be here so early? There are two options, he decides as he stands from the floor to stretch his legs, resting his guitar on the wall. It’s either Yuqi, Lucas’ renowned off-again on-again girlfriend, or Johnny coming to deliver the week’s set.

When he opens the door, the visitor’s face is blocked by a box, but he knows those shoes. Those white ballet flats with purple bows were always your favorite.

Suddenly the box lowers and Mark is finally face to face with you, his ex-girlfriend. He hasn’t seen your face in the months since you’ve called it quits, even though he’s spent countless moments just staring at the leftover pictures on his phone. You look surprised to see him.

“Oh—Mark. Lucas said you probably wouldn’t be awake.” So you had been keeping in touch with Lucas? This is news to him. Had his best friend been sharing that he had been basically wasting away the past few months without you?

“Couldn’t sleep,” explains Mark almost sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. For a moment he’s glad he had the mind to put on a shirt before coming outside.

“Oh…” You trail, your gaze traveling down to the box absentmindedly.

He doesn’t mean to be rude, but the surprise at seeing you on his doorstep makes him a bit gruff. You’re still the same as before: same face, same shoes, same bright eyes. But there’s something about you, about your aura that’s different. More mature. More independent. Because you don’t need him anymore. “What are you doing here?”

If you’re taken aback by his coarseness, you don’t show it. “I brought a box of your stuff. It’s just... stuff that was left at my house.” You gesture to the box in your hands, and Mark is quick to take it from your arms. He prays you don’t take note of the way his hands shake.

Slowly he places it on the floor next to the door and when he stands again, you’re leaning back and forth on your heels looking rather awkward. He doesn’t ask for an explanation but you give one anyways. You had always had a habit of talking too much when you felt nervous. “I’ve had it since...” Your breakup, but neither of you want to say it. “I put it together a couple months ago but put off bringing it over. But I figured, uh, the school year’s over in a couple weeks so I should just do it. I texted Lucas, he said he’d be awake to grab it but..”

“He’s still asleep,” Mark completes for you.

“Yeah,” you say simply. No longer having a box to occupy your hands, you hold them behind your back which only furthers the idea that you’re uncomfortable in his presence. It makes him sad almost, how much things have changed.

He thinks back to what Lucas had told him at the start of the weekend. Maybe it was possible to change things back to the way they used to be. “Do you want to come inside? I have some coffee, or some—”

You look at him with blinking eyes. “I don’t dr—”

“I know.” He knows you don’t drink coffee. Of course he does. “I have tea. It’s even peppermint, your favorite.”

“You drink peppermint tea?” You look at him, incredulous.

“I don’t. It’s leftover from when I bought it for you. I just... haven’t thrown it out yet.”

That’s what your love had done to him: turned him from a brooding boy into a softened man, so much that he was willing to keep your favorite drink around just in case you’d ever come back and want it.

“Oh,” you sound. Your teeth bite down gently on your bottom lip, gnawing it in contemplation as you look away from him momentarily. When you look back, he can see you’ve made your decision. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mark. I’m sorry.”

He expected it, but it doesn’t sting any less. “That’s okay. I understand.” An attempt at a smile is displayed on his face, but it doesn’t reflect any of the radiance in the smile that you mirror back at him. It’s small, the tips of your lips barely lifting, but it’s enough to remind him that you are indeed all that is good in the world, and he needs you. He loves you.

Maybe he can’t love you right now but one day, he’ll be good enough to deserve you. That day isn’t today, but it’ll come eventually. “I’ll see you around,” you say to him.

“I hope so,” is his response.

You give him another small smile before turning to leave. “I hope you’re doing okay, Mark.”

He is, or he’s trying to. When you leave, he closes the door and returns the box to his bedroom before opening it up. Inside, numerous hoodies gifted to you because they became too small for him but were still huge on you. Old songbooks from his high school days that he no longer needed. A teddy bear he had gifted you on your first anniversary.

Pushing the box aside, he grabs a notebook and his music theory textbook. Maybe it actually would do him some good to study.

—THE FIRST TEAR.

“What the hell, Mark?”

You don’t curse often, so when you do, it wakes him. When you find him in his room, he’s knocked out with his body half on the bed and the other half slung over the edge. His hair sticks out in numerous fluffy tufts over his pillow, but you can still smell the weed off of him.

“He only came back like, three hours ago.” He hears Lucas’ voice selling him out, and he groans into the pillow, only lifting his head to grumble at his roommate.

“Snitch bitch,” he says, his voice groggy and scratched.

“Don’t get mad at him,” you suddenly speak up. “At least he answered my calls when I was calling, worried where you were because you hadn’t texted me since,” you stop to check your phone. “5PM last night!”

“I told you, I was going to Johnny’s party,” responds Mark, sitting up in his bed, head still spinning. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up, looking rather disheveled and hungover.

“Yeah, and you never texted me to let me know you were home. How would I have known if you had overdosed, or passed out drunk, or got in a car accident? Or just died?” As your voice rises, reaching a volume you’ve rarely ever employed, you clear your throat to calm yourself and turn to Lucas. “Thanks, Lucas. I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he responds, giving a nod before walking away, likely disappearing into his room.

When you turn back to gaze into Mark’s room, he’s slipped on a shirt. “What the hell were you doing out so late? 9AM is when you should be waking up, Mark, not falling asleep. Finals are next week, you were supposed to meet me at the library an hour ago!”

He makes an annoyed expression at your chastising, and you gaze at him with expectant eyes, awaiting an explanation. All he does is grimace and say, “Babe, can you like, quiet down? I’m hungover, your voice is too loud.”

Your jaw drops.

For a moment you stay like that, until you continue speaking, words coming out faster than Mark can understand them. “I’m just trying to help, Mark. You’ve partied more than you’ve studied this year, and I’m not going to let you just get away with it. Almost every weekend I have to stay up worrying about you, wondering when you’ll get home, unable to sleep until you text me that you’re home and okay.”

“Maybe you should stop worrying then,” he retorts.

“Maybe stop giving me reasons to worry?”

He rolls his eyes, laying back in his bed. “Maybe you should come with me then.”

You quickly reply, “Maybe you should stop partying.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to control me,” he finally spits.

Once again, you’re rendered speechless. And when you turn your head away, focusing your gaze to the hallway instead of at him, Mark thinks he’s won. But then you sniff, an indication that your sensitive heart has once again been touched with tears. “Please,” you finally say, voice weak. This is the timbre Mark is used to hearing from you, not the tone you had used earlier when yelling at him. In this moment, he’s not sure which one he hates more. “Please stop this.”

In a swift movement you reach forward, gathering yourself on your knees before his bed. You grab his hand, pressing your lips to it as a tear makes its way down your cheek. “Please, please, please… please stop the drugs, Mark. It’s made you this… this terrible person and I know you’re not like this.” Suddenly, you’re crying into the palm of his hand while he gazes at you in surprise. “Missing dates, staying out late, yelling, I know that’s not you.”

“Y/N—”

“Please, just call Johnny and tell him you can’t do this anymore. Tell him you’re done. Please, for me.”

Your begging causes Mark’s jaw to tighten subconsciously. What you’re hoping for is a better Mark, a different person. He’s not that person that you want him to be, he can never be that way. This is how he is and how he’ll always be. This is his fate, to be a lowlife drug dealer barely passing college, and if you can’t handle it then—“You know I can’t do that. You promised you’d be here through everything, all the good and the bad.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you destroy yourself like this, Mark.”

He rips his hand from your grasp, causing a slight squeak of surprise to leave your lips. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of himself, because he blows up. “Can’t you just be like a good girlfriend and love me through the bad shit? I’m trying my best here.”

But is he really? Suddenly, as though empowered by some kind of intangible strength, you rise to your feet, the sadness in your eyes now quickly replaced by anger. “I do love you, that’s why I’m acting like this, you asshole!” You wipe your tears furiously with the back of your hand before glowering down at him. “But if you can’t keep your mind sober long enough to see that then call me when you can.”

He registers the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut, causing it to ring in his ears. Within the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Fate is a really messed up bitch for this.

—1 WEEK CLEAN.

It’s been a week.

A week since the last time he touched anything, though he had been tempted when Yuta invited him over for some sativa. The drinking and partying isn’t hard to let go of. It’s the weed, because it got him through the hardest days.

A week in, and he’s pretty proud of himself.

Nowadays, he tries to occupy his shaking hands with guitar or studying but he’s started playing so often that his hands are now raw and in pain. Today, because the weather’s nice outside and his fingers hurt like hell, he decides to take a walk.

It’s aimless at first, just exploring the streets around his apartment on foot. But then ten, fifteen, thirty minutes pass, and without knowing it, he’s arrived at his destination. Johnny’s place. Standing in front of the door, eyes boring into the bright red paint of the front door, Mark feels himself start to slip. No, he decides, he has to do this. This is the right thing.

A shaky knock on the door is followed by another stronger one. He waits a minute before trying again, yet as his hand lifts to place another knock on it, it slides open to reveal Johnny himself in casual wear. “Hey,” greets Johnny, giving Mark a nod. “What’s up? I told you I’d drop the next batch off at your place, you didn’t have to come out here.”

At Johnny’s question, Mark feels his breath caught in his throat. Not only is the guy taller than him and towering over him in every aspect, but he could definitely throw Mark under the bus for his own crimes. But no… he wouldn’t do that, right? He had done enough for Johnny over the past three years that he would let him off easily, surely? A gulp is heard in Mark’s throat as he straightens his position in front of Johnny.

“That’s the thing. I… I don’t want to do this anymore.”

For a moment, Mark thinks that the taller man will be angry. Johnny stands before him, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“I just need to.”

Johnny immediately starts to argue, tilting his head. “You know you’re my best seller, though. No one sells as much as you, and I trust you with all the big deliveries. Who am I supposed to give the heroin to now… Ten? As if, Mark.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“I…” Mark starts, though he stops. “I need to stop. I’ll finish the batch from this week, I promise. I only have like, two deliveries left but I just, it’s not healthy for me. And it’s not because I’m planning to sell you out or anything, or find someone else but I just can’t do this anymore.” He finds himself ranting, finding more interest in anything but Johnny’s face. “I’m not happy, I’m angry and anxious all the time, and being around the drugs only makes me want to do it more, and I just… I just can’t, John.”

When he finishes his unfiltered rant, he looks back to the taller male and tries to read his expression. Will he be angry? If his earlier debate was anything, he definitely wouldn’t let Mark off without a fight.

But instead, the older nods. “I get it. Just finish your deliveries for this week and call it done.”

Mark blinks at Johnny’s easy acquiescence. “T-That’s it? You’re not going to fight more?”

“You want me to?” Johnny asks, cocking an eyebrow that’s almost mocking.

“No, but I…”

“Thought you’d be worth the fight?”

“No, that’s not it.” Mark shakes his head. “I just…”

“Mark,” sighs Johnny, standing straight from where he had been leaning rather casually against the doorframe. “I’m not stupid, okay? I know that drug dealing is hard for you. And I’m also not oblivious, I know that you and your girlfriend broke up, okay? Yuta told me what happened with the coke, and I wasn’t surprised when you refused to sell it anymore.”

Mark frowns even deeper at the mention of it, but Johnny continues. “I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you say it’s not good for you, then it’s not good for you.”

“But…” Mark starts, but doesn’t find the words to continue. It was… that easy. “Okay. Uh, thanks, I guess. For everything?”

“Sure. Just don’t come crawling back when you can’t make rent on your McDonalds’ salary. Male strippers make pretty good money, if you’re interested.” It’s clear Johnny’s joking, so Mark rolls his eyes and laughs, though the sound is somewhat tight.

“I’d love to talk to you some more about ways to get a hustle going, but I have to go find a new dealer, and teach Ten how to stop giving weed to everyone he meets because he thinks they need a pick-me-up.” Johnny sighs, as though the life of a drug dealer is the most difficult of them all, which in Mark’s experience, it might just be.

“Alright. Uh, later, John.”

Johnny nods in acknowledgement before shutting the door. Mark breaths out a heavy breath.

That went… surprisingly well. Maybe Lucas was right, maybe it really was this easy all this time. Perhaps he had always just been the one believing that it was difficult, because he had made it so. He had been stressing over it all this time, but Johnny was more easygoing about it than he’d thought.

As he walks the path home, he thinks he deserves a reward for his endeavors. It’s a bit selfish maybe, but he opens his phone, and you’re on his speed dial.

“Hello?” You ask, voice bright as always but clearly a bit guarded from the name that had flashed across your screen.

“Y/N,” Mark breathes out. It’s only been a few days since you had swung by the apartment.

“Hey, uh… what’s up?”

He doesn’t quite know either. He had quite honestly been a bit impulsive in pressing on your contact, and now that you truly rest across the phone from him, he has no idea what his purpose was. “Um, nothing much, I just wanted to tell you…” A soft breath leaves his lips. Will you be happy for him? “I told Johnny that I quit, that I’m done.”

There’s a momentary pause on the line, and Mark begins to worry that you’ve hung up when you finally breathe out, “That’s good, Mark. I’m… I’m proud of you.”

Proud. He had only been hoping for a “good for you,” at most, but to hear that you’re proud of him, it makes him smile to the ground as he walks the trail back to his apartment. Fuck, you’ve made him weak. “Thanks.”

“I guess you really are doing well then,” you say.

When he gets home, riding the high of his successes from standing up to Johnny to calling you, he flushes his Xanax pills down the toilet and watches as they swirl away into oblivion, as if they had never existed in his life in the first place.

—THE FIRST CRASH.

Mark connects his lips to your neck and suckles on it softly, drawing a moan out of you. The sound you make goes straight to his dick, and he releases a breathy groan against your skin. “Fuck, you sound so pretty, princess.”

Princess—that’s the name he’s given you, because all he wants to do is treat you right. And he does, especially in times like these, where you feel the heat of his body on top of yours and he devours your moans in his mouth.

He currently lays between your spread legs, your combined figure lost in his bed sheets as he softly grinds his hardened core against yours. He’s still got his jeans on while you’re laying only clad in your panties, yet the feel of the denim is enough to have you moaning. You tilt your head back as a light mewl leaves your lips, your body subconsciously grinding down on his.

It had been complete heaven for the both of you when you had given him your virginity, your purity, at the beginning of this year, and since then you have been basically insatiable. You had never felt such desire for anyone before him. Now as his hands rub small circles over your clothed clit, you want him once more.

You’re shaking your head, so needy for him but he doesn’t relent, only smirking more while he continues rubbing sinful circles on your clit. “Tell me what you want.” He wants to hear your beg.

Voice soft and breathy, you say, “Please, Mark, I—”

The doorbell rings. It’s heard through the apartment and Mark groans, rolling his eyes while attempting to keep you going. “Keep going. It’s probably just Lucas forgetting his key again.”

Though the mood was momentarily killed, you both try to fall back into place. Now his fingers have left your clit, instead pulling your panties down to your midthigh. “Shit, you’re soaking,” he moans out in amazement, running a finger through your wet folds. As much as he wants to dive in and fuck you until you’re cumming all over his cock, he needs to hear your sweet voice dripping dirty words for him first. Easily, he slides a finger in, to which you groan at the stretch. But it’s not enough.

“Don’t tease me, please.”

He smirks, slowly sliding his singular digit out of your sensitive core whilst he thumbs your clit. “Go on then, princess. Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck,” you curse and he finds it so hot. “I… I want you to—”

The doorbell again. This time, Mark audibly curses. “Fucking hell,” he sighs, removing his fingers from where you need him. Instead, he moves up and places a sweet kiss on your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

He’s still fully dressed, so he simply opens the door and slips outside before closing it again behind him. As he’s walking down the hall, the doorbell rings once again, causing him to roll his eyes. God, how many times was Lucas going to lose his keys?

The person at the door, however, isn’t his roommate. It’s Johnny, holding a black gym bag. Mark already knows what it is. He runs a hand through his hair, already crazy from how you had been running your hands through it. “Hey, John,” he says, taking the bag clearly in a rush. It’s Sunday, which means Johnny’s dropping off Mark’s deliveries for the week.

“Hey, man,” greets Johnny, handing over the list. Mark doesn’t even bother to check that everything’s there, so the older man raises an eyebrow. “Busy?” He asks, eyeing Mark’s disheveled clothes and the fresh hickey on his collarbone.

“Kind of.”

“Nice. See you next week,” says Johnny with a click of his tongue and a wink, then Mark closes the door and he’s gone. Now, back to what’s important. He slings the strap over his shoulder and makes his way back to his bedroom. As soon as he enters, you look up at him with wide, anticipating eyes.

You’ve pulled your undergarments back on, much to his displeasure. Mark drops the dark bag on the floor in the corner, and your eyes find it. “Johnny came?”

“Yeah. Just dropping off for the week,” replies Mark, his mind not exactly on it as he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere. He moves back over your figure on the bed, lips on the curve of your breast fully intending to return things to the intensity they were at just earlier.

Though his lips trail up to meet yours and his hands begin tugging your panties back down, he can tell from the way you’re kissing him that you’re not fully there. So when you moan his name, he knows it’s not out of pleasure. “Mark,” you say softly against his lips.

“Hmm,” he responds, callused hands gripping your thighs and leading them open. He’s about to slip his hand inside your panties, but your hand stops him.

“Can I have some?” When he looks at you, your eyes are not focused on him, but the bag in the corner. Your eyes are faded, clouded as your both ascend to a place of pleasure. You… wanted drugs? Sure, he’s blown a few times in your mouth but in your relationship spanning over a year already, you’ve never directly asked for any.

His dark eyebrows furrow. “Are you sure?”

You bite down on your lip. “What’s in it?”

“I don’t know,” reveals Mark truthfully as he gets off of you and makes his way over to the package, picking it up and placing it on the bed. You’re sitting up now, peering over the bag with interest as he unzips the gym bag open. Though the exterior looks unsuspicious, the bag opens up to reveal bags of white powder and green kush.

Cocaine.

It’s dangerous. Mark gazes down at it, biting down on his lip.

“Is that… cocaine?” You ask, not unaware of the extreme drug sitting in your boyfriend’s room.

He nods, almost ashamed. “Yeah.”

A silence falls over the two of you, both just staring at the white bags. It’s almost unbearable, how much Mark wants to throw the bag away and just resume your activities, but you’re still gazing into the bag with contemplation, fear, and even… curiosity.

“So, can I have some?” You ask again.

Mark sputters for a second, blinking. “Babe. I—are you sure?”

You nod, eyes dark and curious. “Yeah.” At your confirmation, sounding like it was more to assure yourself than him, Mark stares holes into the white substance. It’s filling the bag to the brim—surely whoever he has to deliver it to won’t notice a line’s worth missing.

So it’s with steady yet hesitant hands that he pulls a pack from the bag, directing you. “Grab your credit card,” he says, walking over to his nightstand. Unzipping the bag just the slightest, he pours out a small amount. Just a little bit, he swears.

When you return to his side with your said card in your hand, he takes it from you and lines up the coke on the table. In a neat little line, it’s set up for you. “Okay,” he starts, looking at you. “Just hold down one nostril and—”

“I know how to do it. I’ve seen it at parties.” You interrupt him as you kneel, finally head level with the nightstand. It’s true; the few parties you have attended alongside your boyfriend, there’s more than enough depictions. He watches with interest as you lean forward, holding one side of your nose closed, and snort up the entire line in one go.

First, you cough into the nightstand. When you turn and look at him, you’re wiping the remaining white dust from your nose. “You okay?” Your boyfriend asks you, to which you nod. “It takes a few minutes to work.”

Again, you nod silently, sitting down on the bed and gesturing Mark to come to you. When he approaches, you lay back in his bed, looking up at him with lustful eyes. “Now, hurry up and fuck me.”

The words are so rare from you. It’s all he needs to hear, unbuckling his belt and dragging his jeans to the floor in two swift movements. Within moments he’s back on top of you, feeling your heat once again. He starts slow, pressing kisses to your stomach, breasts, and neck while waiting for the drug to take effect. He knows the exact moment that it begins to work; your pupils immediately dilate, and suddenly you’re a loose, moaning mess underneath him.

Your muscles relaxed, Mark immediately presses a long kiss to your swollen lips while dragging down your panties. He would usually opt for more foreplay, but he’s waited long enough. He pulls away for the shortest moment to slip on a condom, but before you know it he’s already flush against you again.

It feels so good, even just his touch on you. You’re so sensitive, senses heightened by the drug that you feel everything: his large hands on your breasts over your tips, his lips marking your neck. When he leads his dick to your dripping entrance, you watch in anticipation, though you’re shaking.

As he finally slides in, finally filling you up, you tilt your head back and let out a loud moan, the loudest yet. It just feels so good, you feel so full, and he’s so, so deep.

Everything is…. so good. Euphoria creeps into your headspace.

He pulls out, and you moan again. “Ah,” you gasp sharply, feeling every ridge, every muscle stretched as he slides out, only the tip inside you. Then he slams back in, causing your back to arch and your toes to curl. “Oh, fuck,” you moan out again, eyes closed tightly, lost in the pleasure.

Mark’s hand grips at your hips, eyebrows furrowed in focus as he falls into a rhythm. He would have taken some himself, but he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. Suddenly you grab at his free hand, and he intertwines your fingers. You’re squeezing him, his hand and his dick altogether, so tightly as you’re lost in your pleasure.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good,” he moans out, closing his eyes. He immediately opens them again, not wanting to miss a second of you. “You love my cock, huh?”

Breathless, you nod without words.

“And to think, just a year ago you were an innocent little prude. Now look at you, taking my cock like the slut you are. High on my drugs, fuck—” Mark taunts, moaning aloud as you suddenly clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so tight.”

When he adds his hands to your clit, rubbing the nub in circles the way he knows you love it, the pleasure is heightened for your sensitive body. Your temperature rises, your heartbeat uncontrollable—all the telltale signs of that euphoric high.

A few minutes pass like this, you completely out of it and moaning at the top of your lungs whilst your boyfriend fades in and out of your vision. You grasp onto his arm, tilting your head back. “Mark, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he musters out, never stopping his hips. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are.”

And you do, losing it as you tighten around his length, walls clenching repeatedly. This brings him over the edge, cumming into the condom with a shaky breath. He keeps the rhythm going for both your sakes, though his thrusts go erratic as he comes down.

You do the same, your thirty minutes of elation coming to an end soon. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasmic high, you immediately relax. Your breathing is labored as you relax into his sheets.

Mark pulls from you with a low groan. By the time he’s tossed the condom off into the trash and returned to his bed, you’re already asleep, chest rising softly. A post-cocaine high can do that to you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he slides into bed with you, slipping a hand over your waist.

With the way your body fits right into his, one could say you were made for each other. In Mark’s mind, maybe you were.

—3 WEEKS, 6 DAYS CLEAN

His hands shake as he curls the wrapping paper, giving it a soft lick to secure it.

Tomorrow will be four weeks, a whole month since the last time he had done anything. He had passed his exams. After he had thrown the pills away, he was sure that everything would be smooth sailing. But he was wrong.

He’s disappointed in himself, he is. He wanted to be better, but it’s harder than it seems. Lucas would be disappointed in him. You would be too.

Luckily, neither will find out.

Right now he’s tucked in his bedroom away from Lucas with the excuse that he was napping, but he’s not. Instead, he’s wrapping a joint with the leftover weed tucked in his nightstand.

It’s not because he wants to, or because he’s being peer pressured by anyone around him. It’s for one person only—his dad.

On this day, five years ago, Pastor Lee passed away.

The first three years, the hardest ones, he had Lucas. The past two years, he had you.

No—the first three years weren’t hardest to face, this one is. He still has Lucas, but not really. Had he swallowed his pride, had he just told his best friend that he wasn’t okay when he had asked about his father’s death anniversary, things would have been okay. Lucas would have nodded in sympathy, then dropped everything he had to be there for Mark. They’d chill and drink a couple beers—no, not drink, not anymore—but maybe watch a movie and play some games until the day had passed. That would have been bearable.

But that hadn’t happened.

When Lucas had asked Mark how he felt about the day, Mark had lied and blubbered out a, “Oh, was that today? I totally forgot.” Why had he done that? He doesn’t know.

Because he had had too much pride to admit to his friend that he was struggling… Now he’s here, trying to take care of his pain in the only way he has left.

He lights it, fingers still shaking, and his body relaxes into the mattress as he finally gets a taste of the clouded, sinful smoke once more. The only downfall to this is that he knows, oh he knows well, just how much pain that it causes for him and those around him.

—THE FIRST BURN.

Over the years, Mark has grown accustomed to the warmth.

It’s what you do to him, what he associates you with. Your first kiss, despite the cold winter air, warmed his soul from the inside. Whenever he looks at you… there’s a feeling of espousement that explodes within his chest. Yes, he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it often. He doesn’t need to. You know. You’ve opened his eyes to the beauty of love, the exhilaration of showing yourself to someone and being fully accepted. In his life once frozen over with the loss of his father and the death of his innocence, you showed him warmth.

When he wakes, you’re burning up.

More than you should, even with the two of you naked beneath his blankets. You’re sweating, he realizes as he slides his hand, which he had slung around your waist as the two of you drifted into dreamland, over your skin.

You must be hot underneath the blanket, so he starts to slide it off the blanket from your figures. Then he hears it: you cough, the choked sound coming out scratched and labored. Though you’re turned away from him, he can hear the struggle in it. It’s as if… there’s something blocking your throat.

His eyes immediately widen, adrenaline spiking as he sits up, grabs your shoulders, and turns you around. No, no, it can’t be. Where you had been laying, facing the wall, there’s remnants of your vomit, though some had gotten lodged in your throat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His fingers grab your wrist. You’re still breathing. You’ve still got a pulse, but it’s fast, too fast. So fast, he can barely count it. “Shit,” he curses. You’re overdosing. You’ve overdosed. Fuck.

It’s the cocaine.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice already loud enough to make the house burst into flames with the amount of desperation he puts into it. Shaking your shoulders, he tries again. “Y/N, baby, fuck—wake up!” When you don’t come to, he turns his head over his shoulder, screaming, “Lucas!”

It’s only the early morning, will he be awake? “Lucas!”

“Mark…?” Your voice draws him out from his panic, and he turns to you with wide eyes. Your eyes, pupils dilated and shaky, fly all over the room. “W-What’s—” You don’t finish, because immediately you’re flinging yourself over the side of his bed and throwing up the remainder of what’s in your throat out on his bedroom floor.

The door slams open. Lucas’ worried face appears. Mark is trembling, breath shaking, and you’re still vomiting over the carpet. At the moment, Mark doesn’t care that the both of you are naked in his bed. “What the hell happened?”

Mark feels himself start to slip away, only a moment from hyperventilating, but he speaks. “Hospital… cocaine—overdose, I—”

“I’ll go start the car.” Lucas is immediately out the door, loud steps running down the hallway to grab his keys. At least somebody is in a stable state of mind. Mark starts to move, standing to dress the two of you, but you grab his arm as he steps out, perhaps using the last of your energy. Your eyes are wild, your mouth parted as you heave heavy, labored breaths.

“I… I can’t breathe—Mark, I can’t,” you start between hurried breaths, but don’t finish. Immediately you go slack, falling back in his bed with closed eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Fuck,” he curses, immediately throwing on his jeans and sliding your dress over your sweltering body. Though he’s stumbling and racing to gather things, his phone, his wallet, and your’s, he picks you up into his arms bridal style, racing out of his bedroom into the living room.

Flying out the front door, the cold morning air greets him in an unpleasant fashion, only making your perspiring body seem even warmer, reminding him of his faults. Lucas is already sitting in the front seat, ready to go, but Mark throws the two of you in the backseat. At this point you’re completely gone to the world, head thrown back against the cushion as he struggles to put on your seatbelt. It seems like an arbitrary precaution in this case.

As Lucas starts to drive, moving as fast as he can possibly go, Mark clutches your hand. “Baby,” he finally breaths out as reality begins to set in. This is his fault, he did this to you. He doesn’t deserve to hold your hand, so instead he lets go, placing it in your lap before leaning forward to place his head in his hands.

“Oh my fucking god,” he finally lets out, exasperated.

—1 WEEK, 2 DAYS CLEAN

“My name is Hyunjoon, and I am addicted to alcohol. It has been… six weeks since my last drink.”

Mark bounces his leg erratically, glancing around the room. There’s some people he knows, recalling their faces on campus or around town, but some people he's never seen in his life. He’s supposed to reveal himself to these people? He doesn’t belong here.

Or maybe he does. After his last breakdown, it had taken him three days to fess up to Lucas. His friend, though disappointed, was more than understanding. “It’s a long road,” he had told Mark at the time. He said that he knew of an addiction support group in town, and encouraged Mark to attend. He’s right; Mark knows he can’t do this alone.

“Glad to see you’ve gone another week, Hyunjoon. Happy to see you back.”

He’s next, so he stands. “Um,” he starts, rubbing his nape and feeling awfully out of place. “I’m Mark, and I’m addicted to…” he sighs. “A lot of things.”

The kind looking leader of the meeting offers him a smile. “You can share if you’d like.”

He takes a deep breath. There’s so many people, so many eyes. “Mostly weed. I drink a lot, or I used to. I… I was trying to stop everything then I had a—” How to describe it? “Relapse, last week. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“We commend you for your courage, Mark.” There’s a soft round of applause in the circle. The smiling leader then continues, “We ask everyone who is new to this group, ‘why.’ Why do you want to stop your addiction? Why do you seek help? Besides the obvious reasons that it’s bad for you.”

This question doesn’t take long for him to answer. “I hurt someone. Someone that I really loved, and honestly… I hate myself for it. So I have to stop.”

There seems to be a couple of nods around the circle as Mark sits back down. He releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. This will work. Things will be okay. He will get better. He will get you back.

“Thank you for that, Mark. Welcome.”

—THE FIRST REGRET.

Mark finds himself in the same position he had been in earlier in the car, except this time he’s sitting on the floor right outside your room on the hospital floor, hiding his head in his hands. What is wrong with him?

What had he done to you? What had he allowed you to do to yourself?

God, he’s fucked up.

Lucas is inside with you. He had wanted to be there when you woke up, but he couldn’t. He could barely look at his face in the hospital bathroom mirrors; how was he supposed to face you, IVs hooked up to your arms as a result of the drugs that he gave you? It was supposed to be fine, it was just a little bit! It was supposed to help the experience you two were having. But instead, it almost ended your life.

He looks back now. Just two years ago, when you had first met, you didn’t even drink. You’d never been kissed, never been touched. Now he’s… done this to you. He’s despicable. You don’t deserve him. You deserve better.

The door opens, and Mark finally pulls his head up to see Lucas step out with a somber expression. It’s a stark juxtaposition that saddens him, for Lucas is so often the light hearted joking one of the two. “She wants to see you.”

Mark parts his lips, shaky breath exhaling. “I can’t.”

Lucas takes a seat next to him on the floor, sighing. He probably looks crazy, shirtless and puffy eyed on the floor, but his best friend moves next to him anyways. “I know. She’s not angry, you know.”

“That’s the worst part,” mumbles Mark, staring out at the bleak white walls of the hospital in front of them. He doesn’t say much, but Lucas understands him it seems.

“Something’s gotta change, Mark. Something’s gotta give.”

He knows, with a soft nod of his head. Of course, he knows what Lucas means, but what it means to him is different. He has to give something up, and it’s going to be you. Not because he can live without you or because he doesn’t love you, but because it needs to be you. You can’t be around him any longer. You’ll only continue to be hurt.

When this thought finally occurs, and he accepts it, it becomes a little easier to face you.

He rises to his feet. “I’ll… I’ll see you later,” he finally says, twisting the doorknob to your room open.

—1 MONTH, 4 DAYS CLEAN

He doesn’t know why you asked to see him for lunch, but he does know that you look good. You look healthy, you look better than you did that day when he slipped into your hospital room and saw you there, laying lifeless and gray. But that day, you still smiled when you saw him.

You look rather happy, like you’re doing okay without him, though he hopes that’s not that case—no, that’s not a good thing to hope for. He hopes that you’re doing okay, but that you’ll be even happier when you’re together again. Again, you smile at him over your food. Even after all this time, you still look at him like he’s the center of your universe.

Though you had made small talk about your lives, what you were both doing, how your mom is, how Lucas is, and other unimportant things, it’s at the end of the meal when your voice finally sobers, though you keep a smile on your lips.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you out here.”

“I…” Mark starts, blinking, before nodding. “Yeah.”

You laugh, causing the slightest smile to break out across his lips. It’s still the same laugh you had, that fated night when you met. “I just wanted to see you again. And talk. We haven’t talked in a while.”

Mark’s smile turns into a bittersweet simper. “I thought that was because you didn’t want to talk.” Though you had spoken to him on that phone that one day, he had chalked that up to you being polite when he suddenly called.

“Well, at first, yeah, but you know it’s been almost a year since we broke up and… I had some things I wanted to tell you.” Him too, but he’s not entirely sure he’s at his best just yet. Nevertheless, he smiles and nods.

“I’m listening. You know I always am.”

You take a moment or two to simply stare at him with thoughtful eyes as you think over your words. All the while, your sweet smile never leaves your roseate tiers. Finally, hands folded over your lap, you start.

“Thank you.”

Mark blinks, but you continue. “I know that we didn’t end off on the best terms but I wanted to make sure you knew that I was thankful for you. For having you. You’ve done a lot for me. You’ve taught me a lot, and I can’t thank you more for everything you’ve done.”

You blink repeatedly, eyes fluttering before you continue, which leads Mark to think that these words might be just as emotional for you as they are for him. “Thank you for teaching me love. Because of you, I’ve grown a lot and become a better version of myself. A stronger one. I’m really thankful that you were my first everything: my first real date—” His mind flies back to that night. That movie really was a horrible movie.

“My first kiss.” Does it feel right, now? Yes. Can I kiss you? Yes.

“My first time.” It was awkward, but it felt, as it always did, right.

“Thank you, for being the first guy I loved. I really… really loved you, Mark. But most of all,” you say, gazing at his wordless figure with those eyes of yours. They’re not as innocent and naive as they used to be. They’re matured now, hardened, but still, the sparkle is there. The same sparkle that had attracted him that night, three years ago, with that damned white dress.

“I forgive you.” Mark releases a shaky breath. “For everything. I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore. It’s not your fault, really. I’m better now, I’m healthy. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore because of me.”

“Y/N, I—”

“I met you in my first year here. We’re going to be seniors, Mark. We’re going to graduate and be thrown into the real world, where there’s real consequences. I don’t want the consequences of what happened to weigh you down. I just want to move on, and you deserve to move on too.” From the glint in your eye, it’s clear how long you’ve pondered over these words.

He wants to reach out to you, to grasp you and bring you back to him. Because he’s trying to let go of the past so that he can focus on loving you fully as you are.

Sure, you can forgive him, but he needs to forgive himself first. He’s not quite fully well yet. He has to be patient.

A soft exhale leaves his lips. “Thank you. For forgiving me.”

Yet another sweet, beautiful smile spreads across your lips. It’s the smile that haunts Mark’s dreams. “You’re welcome. And thank you again for everything.” As the waitress appears, returning Mark’s credit card that he had graciously used to pay for the meal, you stand with your bag.

No, you can’t be leaving just yet. “Stay in touch, okay, Mark?”

But he has to let you leave. The day will come when it’s right. “Yeah,” he manages, swallowing the lump in his throat. Yet as he watches you walk away, he can feel that that string of fate he had always believed tied the two of you together slowly wearing, twisting, breaking.

—THE FINAL TEAR.

“What do you mean we should break up?”

Your voice is scandalized, angry. Mark simply keeps his gaze to the living room floor, eyebrows furrowed in complete unhappiness. He never wanted it to end like this, but he’s run horrible with thoughts that the things he did brought pain to you. It’s time to end it. Not because he wants to, but because he should.

“We just should,” he responds bleakly. “After what happened, I think it’s clear that we’re not good for each other.”

It’s been a month now since you’ve been discharged from the hospital. After you had convinced your doctor that you weren’t addicted to drugs and in need of rehab, you had gone home. Mark had luckily had enough saved to pay off your hospital bills; neither of you wanted your parents knowing. “Mark, it’s okay. I told you it’s okay!”

“No, it’s not. It’s not just because of the overdose. Things have been like this for a while now.”

You attempt to grab his hand. If he allows himself to bask in just one moment of your kindness, he’ll give in. You beg, “Mark, please, hang on for me, for us. I promise things will get better, things can change.”

He snaps, pulling his hand from your’s. Your eyes widen up at him, shocked and appalled at his sudden movement. “No! Can’t you see? You didn’t even take that much. I took more coke in my first snort than you took in that entire line. The overdose shouldn’t have even happened, but look, it did. This is wrong.”

“What, the drugs? I’ve been telling you that. Please, we can get better. We can find help.” The fact that you’re still pleading him with kind, gentle eyes, makes this all worse. It only further proves that you’re good. He’s not.

“No, not the drugs. Us.”

“Us?”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head in frustration. “We’re not right for each other. This isn’t working.”

“What do you mean? Tell me why.”

“We’re just not… destined to be together. What happened, it was God’s way of telling us that this is not right. We’re not right for each other,” he explains, voice exasperated as he tries his best to explain the mess of his thoughts.

This seems to take you aback, your voice finally rising. “Oh, so now you care what God thinks?”

No, not really. But sometimes he has to listen. He doesn’t respond, so you continue. “I’ve been more than willing to make this work for two years, Mark. You think any of this was easy for me? My first boyfriend and he’s a freaking drug dealer for God’s sake. I tried to take it all because I loved you! I took care of you when you were hungover, I waited around shady areas at night so that you could drop off deals, I stuck with you for everything. Fuck,” you shout, causing Mark to tense. You rarely curse, and based on your usage of it now, he knows just how upset you are. “I even overdosed and I’m still here. Yet it’s always you pushing me away, making it difficult. Why are you running away from us?”

He’s not running away. “I’m not running away,” he declares. “I’m letting you run away.”

“And what makes you think I need to run away from you?”

“Because! You heard yourself, don’t deserve those things. You should have someone to take care of you when you’re sick, not always be the one fixing me when I’m sick. You should have someone to walk with you through the shady areas. That’s not me. I’m not… right for you.” He finally spits it out, eyebrows tightened together as he releases the thoughts that have been on his mind for a month now.

You’re silent for a moment, taking in his words with your arms crossed over your chest. When you speak, your voice has returned to its normal speaking volume. “You told me that you believed in fate, that you believed in us. Is this fate? Fate that we met, and fell in love, and broke up? Is it fate that you hurt me over and over again and I came back, every single time? Because if that’s fate…” A single tear falls from your eyes, though you wipe it away so it’s as if it never even existed. It seems even you have some pride now, not to cry in front of him. “It seems like your idea of fate is pretty messed up.”

Mark takes a large breath, looking away to gather his thoughts before looking back to you. You’ve both come so far since that night, the image of her clouded by the purple lights, the energy of the party. Now, all that glamour is stripped away. It’s just you and him, as you are. “You had to meet someone like me, so you can know what you deserve.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to call it quits, and blame it on destiny?” Your tone is mocking, questioning his reasons and probably his sanity.

“I’m not calling it quits,” he immediately retorts, responding sharp and quick. “I’m letting you go.”

“No,” you say as you approach him. “You’re giving up. On us, on everything we worked hard to build. Our trust, our relationship, everything.” Your finger digs into his chest, pointing an accusing blame. “I broke up with you,” you emphasize. “Not the other way around. I broke up with you because you tugged me around, you pushed me away, and you never listened to me. I got tired of it, and broke up with you.”

With that, you pull away from him, though when he finally comes to realize the weight of the conversation you just had, he sees you grabbing your bag and slipping your white ballet flats with purple bows on. “Y/N.”

He wants to say he’s sorry, because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He hadn’t planned for the conversation to go up in flames.

Whenever you walked out during arguments, there was always a promise to call later, to talk when your minds were stable. But now, as you turn over your shoulder, walking out of his apartment and life, you muster a goodbye.

“Don’t call me.”

—3 MONTHS CLEAN.

“Senior year!” Lucas yells as he throws open the front door with the power of the Hulk, startling Mark who’s still unpacking some boxes of cookware in the kitchen. “It’s our time, time to shine!”

A soft laugh leaves Mark as he places some cups in the cupboard. He and Lucas had left their apartment for two months for the summer to return to their homes, but here they are, back and ready to take on their final year. They had finished middle school and high school together, and now they’ll graduate college together. It makes Mark smile.

As he leaves the kitchen to greet his best friend in the living room, he sees that the guy has already brought in a number of his boxes. “Hey, man,” calls Mark, who leads Lucas in for a dap.

“Hey yourself, you barely talked to me this summer,” Lucas chastises playfully. “Ignoring me, I see.”

Mark laughs, shaking his head. “Not ignoring, just… working on myself.”

“Good,” responds Lucas, turning to bring in the rest of his boxes. Yes, Mark had spent the entire summer dedicating himself to the lost cause that was himself. He started working out again, got a job, and even worked on rebuilding his relationship with his mother. Things were looking up for him.

He feels ready. Lucas’ voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey, wanna take a break and get some food?”

His question meets a raised eyebrow from Mark. “You just got here, like, two minutes ago.”

“And?”

A laugh leaves Mark’s lips, and he shakes his head. “Nothing. But, uh, I can’t. I was going to go… see Y/N.”

“Oh?” asks Lucas, leaning down to tear the tape on one of the dark cardboard boxes filled to the brim, probably with Lucas’ pillows; the man was like a giant baby, sleeping with ten pillows. “You called her and asked to meet up?”

“No,” responds Mark, who follows these words with a deep breath. “I’m going to go see her.”

Lucas stands straight once more, his playful expression from earlier now serious. He shoots Mark a soft smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Nice. I’m happy for you. Are you leaving now?”

“Uh, yeah, I was planning to go after I put all the kitchen stuff away.”

Lucas’ grin grows even wider, stretching from ear to ear as he gives Mark a little pat on the bum, which is supposed to be encouraging. “Well, then go get her, tiger! Good luck, man,” he yells supportively as he pushes Mark out the door.

As he shuts the door, Mark blinks. “Dude! I don’t even have shoes on! Or my car keys,” he laughs, banging on the door.

Some time later, Mark finds himself hesitating as he parks his car a block down the street from your sharehouse, the same place he had kissed you, that many years ago. He doesn’t even know if you still live here. You had been broken up since the beginning of your junior year, who knows if you had decided to move out?

He contemplates this as he walks down the sidewalk to your place, hands in his pockets and gaze on the floor. Surely, if you’re not there, one of the girls will point him in your direction? Hopefully.

Oh, but you are there. As your home comes into view, he sees you. You’re there on the front porch, dressed in a simple white skirt and the same white ballet flats with purple bows that you can never seem to grow out of.

But you’re not alone.

There’s a man with you, though his back is turned to Mark’s view. He blinks. His steps stop completely. Surely it could be anyone right? A neighbor? A classmate?

But that’s impossible. Not because class doesn’t start for three days or because you and him met the neighbors on all sides of your house, but because you lean up on your toes, the way you always did with Mark himself, and kiss the stranger’s cheek.

It would have been easy to lie to himself, but then it’s much too clear. He realizes it then as he stares, only a few steps away from the path that would have led to your steps, the steps he took when walking you back on your first date, intertwined hands swinging between the two of you.

He’s too late. Maybe much too late.

He was a fool all this time. Thinking that he could be better for you, that he could defy fate with his free will and urge the universe into letting you be together. Lucas was wrong; life isn’t free will, neither is love.

This is his fate, there’s no use denying it.

He stands staring for a few moments, simply gazing in complete desolation at the sight before him. This is it, this is the end. He’s ready to submit to his poor fate, the internalized idea he’s housed that he’d never be able to find a love like yours ever again, but then you see him, probably because he stands out like a stain of black paint on the green canvas of your lawn.

He doesn’t hear you, but your lips form his name, “Mark?” and your eyes blink in confusion.

He doesn’t wait too long anyways, for he’s already turned on his heels back to his car. Fuck fate and its tendencies, giving hope where there will only be heartbreak.

—SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE FIRST TEAR AND THE FIRST CRASH.

The smell of you invades his senses, but he doesn’t care. It’s one of the first nights in a long time where you’ve agreed to go to a party with him. Though other girls beg for his attention, he’s still only got his eyes on you. Your outfit tonight is much too nostalgic.

“You know,” he whispers in your ear, dancing against your backside with a hand on your waist. “You look best in white.”

“I know,” you respond, chuckling whilst dancing back against him. He had taught you how to dance a while ago, and you just keep getting better and better.

“You wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you, you little minx,” he teases, though a playful laugh leaves his throat. His words draw a knowing giggle from you, and Mark feels as though he could get drunk on the sound alone.

“Maybe,” you respond back, turning and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. This is when Mark gets a good look at you.

It’s so easy to remember the way you first appeared to him, standing awkwardly in a corner of a party just like this. This time the lights decorating the aura of this party are not purple, but his heart is all the same. You’re wearing the same outfit now, definitely at this point to tantalize him and tease him; you loved to make fun of him after he told you that he had fallen for you because of that dress alone.

But you’re different now.

You’re brighter, taller, more mature. Now you are not just your person carrying your own thoughts, but his as well. You know him, know his thoughts and his feelings, know his worries without asking. Your smile is bigger, it reaches your eyes more now than it did that first night, a forced simper at the strange guy coming to flirt with you. You dance with more confidence, you carry with yourself a quiet strength despite your hesitant nature.

He loves you. God, he loves you. He tells you just as much.

With a hand over your hip, he pulls you close. You think he’s going to press another tipsy kiss to your lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he brushes his lips to your ear and he whispers, so softly you would have missed it if you hadn’t been purposely filtering the party’s music to focus on his voice: “I love you.”

You blink, and stop your dancing. It’s the first time he’s ever said this to you.

“Mark…” you start, lips parting in surprise, but he’s pulled away to smile sweetly at you. It’s not flirtatious, the kind of smile he gives you before attempting to pull you in the bathroom for a quick one. Nor is it the knowing grin he shoots before guiltily asking you to go refill his drink. It’s a small one that barely touches the tips of his lips, and the look alone makes your heart melt in espousement. “I… I love you too.”

You had told him, of course, the other month when you had tore him apart in his bedroom after finding him hungover. But this time it’s real, and in the future you both will choose to remember this as the first time.

Some might think that it’s unorthodox to confess such strong feelings such as love in the middle of a party, sweltering with the heat of dancing bodies and the musky smoke in the air. But for the two of you, it doesn’t matter. It’s just you two in here; you only see each other.

—3 MONTHS CLEAN, ONE HOUR LATER.

Mark’s currently in his room, completely bare except for his bed and desk, sulking away. When he had returned home with a bitter lilt in his steps, Lucas didn’t need any explanation, stepping out to “meet Yuqi.”

Of course, it had been Lucas who had put him in this place of thinking he could get you back but in the end, it was only himself that he had to blame. He never had the chance, it was his fault for thinking he ever did.

He’s learned his lesson.

It’s only an hour later when Lucas knocks on the door again. Fuck, Mark thinks inwardly while rolling his eyes. It’s only the first day back, has this giant managed to lose his keys, again? He makes his way out to the door, already preparing to give Lucas hell for being so irresponsible, but Lucas never makes his appearance at the door.

“Y/N.”

“Mark, I’m sorry, but—”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up at your place uninvited.” He’s quick to interrupt you, shaking his head. It’s easy to pretend to be strong; he just needs to maintain a strong front until he shuts the door again.

“It’s not that, I—”

“I won’t do it again, I promise. I know you said you wanted to move on and I shouldn’t be surprised, it just hurts to see it, and so, I’ll—”

“Mark—”

“I hope that you’re very happy, and that he can make you happier than I di—”

“That’s my brother, you daft idiot!” You finally cut him off, voice rising to a volume louder than his. He had flinched at your sudden peak in volume. You give him a pointed look, and when he doesn’t dare speak again, you continue. “That’s my brother, Mark. He helps me move in every year, you know that!”

That’s true, he does know that. And he’s met your brother many, many times. Shit, he realizes.

“... Oh.”

“Mark Lee, you think I could move on from you that quickly? It’s been like, two months!” You scold him, as if the idea is preposterous.

“Well,” he reasons. “Technically we broke up a year ago.”

You seem to have the energy to argue back. “Okay, but I only really let you go when school ended this year.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment following your words, before you both start to laugh. You crack first, trying to remain serious when all you want to do is envelope him in a hug, for how could you ever love anyone else? You can’t even imagine trying to date anyone right now. He follows right after, shoulders relaxing as you start to chuckle.

“We look insane right now, you know,” he says, sighing as his chortle comes to an end.

“Yeah, and I’m insane because I drove like a madwoman chasing after my ex because he saw me with my brother,” you say with a pointed tone, to which Mark sighs.

“Okay, in my defense, I saw him from behind, and you are awfully touchy with your brother!” He starts, when you begin to laugh again, pure amusement breaking out across your visage. Wow, just five minutes ago he had been regretting all his life decisions, yet here he was with you again, making conversations like you had years ago in your relationship.

When the laughter dies down, the two of you are left staring at each other, and reality sets in. Yeah, he had run away when he saw you with your brother of all people, and you had chased after him, your ex. Where does that place you?

Mark speaks first, breaking the short silence. “I’m sober now, you know. I haven’t done anything, anything at all, in three months now.”

Surprise seems to claim your face at the revelation, and he’s not sure if he should feel proud that he managed to shock you with his success or saddened that it seems to be that much of a surprise. “Oh?” Your surprised expression is replaced with a smile. “I’m proud.”

He nods, unsure what to say next, but luckily you add on, “What made you decide to stop?” You’re undoubtedly reminiscing on all the times you had begged him to give it up, to which he would stubbornly resist.

“You.”

Your features contort into an incredulous expression. “Me.”

“Really,” Mark urges. “I…” he pauses, preparing himself for the words about to leave him. He had long pondered over this moment, wondering if it would truly happen. “I lost you, and I know that I said it was because we weren’t meant to be together but somewhere along the line I realized, I can live without weed, and parties, and alcohol but I can’t live without you.”

“Mark…” You start, lips parted as you grow silent.

“No, please, let me finish, I don’t want to take all the credit because it was Lucas who had to come and knock some sense into me and make me see: sure, fate can be real and that soulmate shit might be real too because I believe you’re mine, but I know that everything is a choice, including love.” His mention of Lucas has you smiling, and he has no doubt Lucas has talked to you recently, attempting to be the middleman once more. “I love you, there’s no doubt about that, I love you more than I love partying, my friends, or anything. And if I love you that much, there’s nothing that can keep me from you.”

He grasps at your hands, and thankfully, you don’t pull away. “Not God, not fate, not anybody. Only me. I was the only thing keeping us apart. I want to be with you, I want to make things better, and I promise… I promise I’ll do everything in my power to be the best for you.” Mark takes a deep breath, taking a moment to glance down at his hands holding yours before looking back to your eyes. “I can’t promise that I won’t have relapses. But I promise that as long as you’re there for me, I will be there for you. I’ll walk you through the shady areas, I won’t run away.”

“Mark—”

“I don’t know if my words will be enough for you to take me back but I swear to you on my entire being that I will be here—”

“Geez, Mark does sobriety make you extremely prone to interrupting, or what?” You butt in, but you laugh, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. Whether it’s you natural shine or tears building in your eyes, neither of you know. “Don’t even go there, or explain anymore. Of course I’ll take you back, you idiot. You think I would chase after you like that if I didn’t think about running back to you every day?”

This causes him to laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t. I wasn’t ready. I was waiting until I was good enough to run to you.”

“You ran away earlier,” you point out teasingly, and he rolls his eyes, pulling you close over the threshold of his apartment.

“That was the last time.”

Your hands find his chest, resting upon the expanse of it as you look up at him with a cheeky smile. “Better be, mister.”

“Oh,” he muses, as you wrap your fingers around the fabric of his shirt and all feels right again. “You’re bold.”

“A year apart does that to you,” you smile, still a hint of shyness on your lips as you finally tug him in, kissing him. You melt into him and his hands immediately find themselves on your hips, just where they belong.

Oh yes, there it is again, that feeling of euphoria. You’re the only drug, the only high he needs.

#NCT-WRITERS #mark lee angst #mark lee smut #mark smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee fanfic #nct angst #tw: smut #tw: drugs #tw: drinking

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