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#the brain rot is getting worse with age
layla-carstairs · 7 months
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does anyone else ever think about how in cohf Magnus refers to Jace, Clary, Izzy and Simon as Alec's friends and says that he just puts up with them for Alec. does anyone think about how later in qoaad at their wedding Magnus refers to them as "their closest friends"??? because I think about it a lot
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arolesbianism · 4 months
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Hello looks to the moon fans. I am gently placing drowning act by friends unseen into your hands 👍
#rat rambles#I remebered this song exists which means Im thinking abt rain world and moon again god I love moon sm#shes literally so me bait idk how to explain how she is but she is just trust me bro#shes so messed up I love her so fucking much only character in this game that comes back to haunt me regularly#oh and also sliver but y'know thats partially because of oc stuff moon makes me want to maul people#moon is like. what if you made a guy who gets basically killed by her brother and then has to live and think in her own rotting corpse#shes not even a zombie shes just a living brain in a corpse that was never able to move in the first place#and before all of this she was very aware that she was dying and it scared her she was so scared#but even still in her last message to the closest thing to a family she could ever have is message of comfort to them#her last line in said message was 'Im glad Im not alone'#and its not true. she is alone. no one had been able to contact her in ages. soon enough even the remnants of these people will be lost.#and she has to live with fragmented memories and no access to the rest of her bodily functions for god knows how long#all while being so painfully Alone#its only worse when you think about how much more deafeningly silent it must be to her as shes yknow. a supercomputer.#this isnt just her losing access to her body shes lost access to most of her processing systems too#shes only held in consciousness by five braincells which were never meant to be used as an iterators sole operating system#and even outside of that she used to be a giant wirring machine and now its just. quiet.#she doesnt even see that much wildlife her only company is the water that she once so desperately needed#and she still puts on a strong face. she still tries to live in what little ways she can.#💥💥💥💥💥 I hate her
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yanderestarangel · 1 month
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did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today
a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.
"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER
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𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.
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Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.
You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.
Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.
You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.
Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.
"What is wrong, carinõ?"
He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.
"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"
You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.
"Who was that boy, mi vida?”
He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.
"You were speaking so intimately with him..."
His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.
"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )
You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"
He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."
He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.
"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."
His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.
"And one day, that fire will burn you."
He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.
You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.
"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."
He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.
His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.
"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."
He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.
"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."
He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.
"Go to bed now."
He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.
"Sleep well, my precious boy."
His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.
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You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.
Everything would be better than facing him again.
You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.
Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.
"Fine."
He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.
As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.
"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.
"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."
He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.
"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"
His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.
"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"
He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.
"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.
"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."
His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.
"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.
"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"
He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."
His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.
He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.
"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"
A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.
"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"
He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.
"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."
You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.
"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."
He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.
"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."
He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.
As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.
You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.
"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."
You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.
As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.
You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.
"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."
His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.
"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".
Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.
"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."
You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.
He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.
"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"
You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.
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creepling · 7 months
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disguised lessons - stepbro! j. slaughter / 1k
well um... i just wrote that on a whim. idk what came over me. i am truly rotted in the brain. so enjoy, i guess?
tags: smut - MDNI. fem!reader. stepbro!johnny. reader loses virginity. ment of pantie sniffing and masturbating. johnny is a manipulative lil shit. praise. oral (m receiving). cowgirl. stomach bulge. possessive. degrading by the end. unprotective sex. hints at an age gap.
Johnny knew the consequences that came with Nancy marrying another man. He’ll disappear like the rest of him, without a trace. But this time, the package came with a cute little step-sister. Naive as they come, you try not to take too much space in the household. When Daddy wasn’t home, Nancy scorned you and made it known you weren’t part of the family. Johnny, however, seemed to enjoy your company. He wanted it a little too much for a step-brother.
Having an older brother after years of being a sheltered-only child was exciting. And his behaviour did not stick out as abnormal but conflicted with your consciousness. Johnny liked touching you. Touch you wherever he wanted. Grazing the small of your back, tuck your hair behind your ear. He teased your blushing. He discovered that you were easy to carry and made it routine to pick you up. To feel your thighs around his waist, your timid hands grip his shoulders for support. He’d chuckle at your whines to put you down.
When he started to get adventurous, he’d test the limits when Nancy and your dad weren’t around—becoming the man of the house when they left for work—snooping in your room when you’re downstairs making lunch, smelling your clothes and beating off to your scent. Going around the house shirtless in the Texan heat, clocking your desperate urge not to feed your eyes on him, making your conflicts worse by lingering in your bedroom, leaning over your bed, the stretch of his abdomen clouding your mind. It was only a matter of time before Johnny would the fuck the slut out of his step-sister.
It all started when you both had the house to yourself for the night. You lay across your bed reading a book. You wondered if he would make his daily trip inside, your stomach tender and topsy. He didn’t bother knocking, causing you to shift as the door creaks open. Johnny walks in. Just wanted to check up on ya. You couldn’t help but smile. He took his regular spot on your bed, spreading along the bottom, holding himself up with his strong arm. Muscles flexing. Your face grows hot.
I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya something, Johnny ponders, his hands fidgeting with the bed throw. Are you a virgin?
You were shocked, slapping your hand on his shoulder. Why would you ask me that?
I’ll take that as a yes, Johnny smirked. All you could do was look dumbfounded. 
That’s a shame. Guys your age don’t want a virgin girl. They want them nasty. Trust me, I’d know. I was that age once. Johnny shrugged, trying to hide his smirk at your disappointment.
That can’t be true. Daddy says guys want respectable girls to marry.
Well, your Daddy don’t know everything. Johnny said, his eyes lingering over your body. But I could teach you a few things since I'm your step-brother. Your breath hitches as he moves closer to you, cupping your chin. I could teach you how to fuck properly. How to suck off a guy. How to ride him. It could come in real’ handy when you find that special someone. 
Bewitched by his stare, you follow his gaze as you kneel on the bed, watching as Johnny stands up and unbuckles his jeans. It ain’t as scary once you try it, Johnny soothes, patting your head.
Your lips were timid around his tip, moaning surprisingly as he bucks his hips, his cock stuffing your tiny mouth. It’s good to keep eye contact, Johnny grunts, guiding your head for your doe-like stare to fixate on his lustrous gaze. Yeah, that’s it, good girl. Once your mouth salivated, Johnny eased his length inside, holding your head in place. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears streaming. You choke as his tip licks the back of your throat. Yet, you didn’t want to protest, feeling your cunt pulsing at the deep groans escaping Johnny’s mouth. You like my cock, don’t ya lil sis? You might not want another cock after mine.
He taught you all the techniques. How to swirl your tongue around his shaft, open your throat to take him all in, and massage his balls. Giving the puppy-dog eyes that drive him mad. He could feel himself growing close to a climax, so he pulled out of your swollen mouth and picked you up in his arms. How’s about time I show you how to fuck good, ay girl?
You cradled his lap, his hands exploring your body, lurching his lips around your nipples. He holds you in place as you whimper, squirming as he attacks your sensitivity. Positioning his cock under your dripping cunt, Johnny guides your hips to sink on his length. His eyes glazed as he watched the shock on your face.
Johnny, it hurts- You protest, but his hands are keeping you firmly in place. Your legs shake, whining at the pain of his cock filling you.
It’s okay, darlin’. You’ll get used to it, Johnny says, caressing your cheek. There, it’ll soon go away. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.
You soon get used to his length, the pain washing away. It began to feel like a pleasurable ache, the knot in your stomach gradually coming undone. You look down at Johnny’s immersive hands on your waist, guiding your hips to grind down into him. Your back arches, and you sigh a moan, easing yourself into it.
That’s it, you’re doing good. Keeping doing that, Johnny reassures. He leans back and lets you take full reign, gazing at the perky breasts pressed together, your hands on his chest. You move in places to feel comfortable, running your walls up and down his cock, moaning as his length pumps into you. He felt so good, and you felt ashamed to enjoy it. Your step-brother’s cock fits inside you so perfectly, and he looks at you in a way you desire to be looked at.
Johnny was in bliss, his fingers pressing against your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock inside you. It drove him crazy, seeing his innocent little step-sister riding his cock. You’re a natural, He breathed out. Keep riding me like that, and I’ll make it a habit.
And he did make it a habit. Every single day. Giving you daily step-brother lessons on how to fuck good. How someone should fuck you, pleasure you into oblivion. Encouraging you to lean into your lustrous instinct and become available to him. It became more than just pleasing your future man and more about how to pleasure him.
No other guy’s cock will be better than your big brother’s, Johnny would grunt into your ear, bending you over the bed and drilling into you. He fucked you anywhere he pleased, in the bed, in the shower, on the couch. Johnny couldn’t contain himself around you. He liked it when you were home alone, so you could be as loud as you wanted. The more you gave yourself to him, the more he gave into his rough instincts. His praise turned degrading, and his thrusts fucked you into becoming a slut for his cock. Look at you, desperate for stepbro's cock, Johnny teased you. You give him into him every time. That’s what good step-sisters are for, right? Who knew you were such a little whore? God, ain’t I glad I came into your room. I would’ve missed out on this nice little pussy.
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months
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You mentioned in a headcanon post about how Tobi would knock reader out with their voice when they did something they didnt like, could you make an example scenario 4 us ? :0
"No."
There are many things Tobi can protect you from. Ghosts and demons, spiteful commentors and people who wouldn't take no for an answer were forces they could easily handle as simply as flicking off a light switch. Ancient, decrepit houses - as hard as they may try, weren't always included in that list.
As per usual - Tobi left to explore the house you'd picked out for your next stream couple days prior to the stream to rid the place of any hostile spirits or other elements that may bring you harm. It was pretty much habitual for them scout every location, and helped relived some of their stress towards leaving you to your own devices in what was essential the unknown.
The house was far worse off inside that the pictures you had showed them conveyed. A riverside lodge annihilated by a enraged storm and the overflooding waters from the river bank. The young couple who owned the home tragically drowned after leaving the sun roof open the night prior and failing to wake up before it was too late. The walls sagged with age and decades of water weight, and the warped, rotting floors could barely handle Tobi's lanky stature and size.
Normally, they'd just install some temporary support planks and forbid you from venturing to the top floor or basement, but exploring deeper they came to the conclusion this site was far too dangerous for you to step a single foot inside.
Heading towards the stairway to the top floor, there was a large gap right between where the first step and the bottom floor met. It was narrow enough to where they could just step over - but Tobi noticed something right as they peered casually into the hole. A piece of fabric stuck to the spliters of the wood. It was in too good a condition to be something from the incident, but that's not what made Tobi pause.
The scrap of cloth matched perfectly to a jacket you had just released - the same jacket you were throwing on now.
"Aw, come on, Tobi - this could be our big break!"
Their fingers fly to fast across their phone screen for your eyes to keep up.
"Too dangerous."
Laughing, you zip up your jacket as you reach for your keys. "You always say that. If you're scared, you can wait in the car and I'll cut the stream short. I did okay on my own before you came around."
Grabbing the tail end of your jacket, Tobi's mind rushes back to the second sight they saw in that hole. The bloated corpses of one of your followers - staring straight up at him. They couldn't even remember what their face looked like. All they saw was yours. It was always yours.
Tobi grabs your wrist, squeezing the ball of your hand until you're forced to lose your grip on your keys. Stay. Don't go. Your adventurous spirit was one of the endless things they loved about you and they'd never take that away - but if you left their sight for a single second then-
"No......"
Pressure builds behind your eyes. You pres a hand to your temple, shaking off the brief wave of nausea "Ugh.. Tobi... I'll be okay, I promise. I got a little headache now, so I didn't won't be out long. "
No.... Flashes of your face in that horrible state cloud their already fogged mind- eyes glossy, skin pale and so, so cold. A far cry from the life and warmth you gave off now. It would only take one second. One second for you to get hurt. One second for them to lose you. They can't go back to life without you. They can't be that empty shell rotting away in an equally decaying home. They can't - they won't. You can't leave them.
"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LEAVE ME!"
It all happens so fast. Your brain throbs. Without utter a single word, you place your fingers your lips - red being all you see. Shaking, you look up at your cameraman as your jaw goes slack.
"To-"
Your eyes glaze over, trembling legs unable to support the remaining weight of your body as you fall. Tobi dives to the floor, catching you in their arms before your unceremoniously landing. Your head almost hits the floor before their arms shoot out to catch you. He supports it and your neck on his shoulder, unzipping your jacket with the same tremors you had before your fall. Tobi removes their hat and places their ear to your chest.
One beat. Two-
You're still alive. Deep down they knew, but for the sake of their aching heart they had to make sure. Tobi carefully zips your jacket back up and once they do - they begin to cry. If your comatose state was good for one thing it was leaving you in the dark, unharmed by their wails and pleads.
"sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you. Please - please don't leave me..Don't leave me."
Tobi slowly regains their composure. They wipe the blood from your nose, and their thick tears from your face as they stand. Tobi carries you to your bedroom and places you in bed. They clear your search history of anything related to the cabin and burn the notes along it. They reserve a table at your favorite restaurant for tomorrow, praying you'll wake up before the time comes. As you rest they rehearse their lines for when you wake - thankful you'll never hear the break in their voice when they lie.
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tsykku · 7 months
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I am having q!tubbo brain rot so have a slice of it.
I am so curious as to which direction Tubbo will take his character. Because nothing what q!tubbo does seems malicious or sometimes even intentional yet so many people take issue with him or his behaviour. And he is somewhat aware of that while at the same time, completely oblivious as to why or how deep the conflict goes.
You have the federation who cannot stand his arse. Who we know is paying extra attention to Tubbo and wants to arrest him the minute he even does something slightly illegal. While they have not arrested him yet, it is only a matter of time. So what do they do in the meantime? They use him as a scapegoat to nerf certain game mechanics or punish him extra harshly in comparison to others who did the exact same things or worse. Yet for some reason, the other qsmp members are under the impression that Tubbo never gets punished and that he is solely to blame for the create nerf, breeding animosity.
Then next, you have the antagonistic fights with Etoiles which started carefree and rather playful but now have been escalating in q!Etoiles telling the codes that Tubbo works with the federation. To be honest, Tubbo is absolutely partly to blame for this one with his cheeky comments to Etoiles about losing his fight with the code. However, it adds another dynamic layer of conflict to the situation.
Finally, you have the vendetta of Bad and Aypierre against Tubbo due to the controversial Tubhole. You can argue all day long about the logistics of Tubhole and whether Bad and Pierre are valid in their objections against it. But the facts remain that it is within Tubbo's rights to do so and that they have not given him the grace period to let him make it into a good build. It literally is still a work in process that has been going on for less than 24 Minecraft hours. And even if it turns out to be ugly, the fact that Tubbo has been building the Tubhole with only create machines is fucking cool and makes it worth it (in my opinion). Moreover, Bad and Pierre both have similar big projects and their concern that it is different because of the close proximity to spawn feels a bit hypocritical as there are other (big) projects near spawn that cause similar amounts of lag.
And now this vendetta has gone from convincing other islanders of how Tubbo must be stopped to them framing Tubbo for the kidnapping of Ron to Fred. A being that everyone on the island at this point knows is important to Tubbo. A relationship which is one of the only ones Tubbo has left, besides the morning crew. We already know how much the relationship between Fred and Tubbo affects Tubbo's emotions so what will losing Fred or their trust do to him?
So now you have this huge cluster of events that puts q!Tubbo in a situation where everyone is against him, the federation, the code entities and most of the islanders as well. An exception can be made for the morning crew however they do not seem to take Tubbo or his concerns seriously, treating it like the mischief and matters of a kid.
And most interestingly, it is still not clear what makes Tubbo so special. Is it his use of create mod? Aypierre, Ramon and Dapper do something similar. Is it his curiosity and distrust of the federation? Cellbit, Badboyhalo en Bagi are right there with him. Is it his apparent greed or selfishness with regard to resources? It is not like he has never shared them or that gathering resources is sole motivation. Is it his knowledge of Minecraft mechanics to break the lore/server? Philza and his fourth wall breaking say hello as does Aypierre. Is it his age then? His relentless attitude to anything that catches his attention? His endless curiosity?
It will be so interesting to see where all these points of contention will lead to and how q!Tubbo will react to it or change as a result of it. Currently, his only concerns are the potential romance with Fred and finishing the Tubhole so that he can get along with everyone again. So he clearly does not know yet how much trouble he truly is in or how the cards are stacked against him...
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theblueflower05 · 1 year
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Here for the blue alien brain rot. Will never not mourn the fact that Pandora is a fictional planet.
Requests are OPEN. Please send them in asks if possible. It’s easier for me to keep track of them. feel free to hop on anon if there’s any discomfort(but know I’m always open and down to chit chat!)
You cultivate your online experience. Please remember that fact as you browse through my works. All of which will be tagged accordingly. Please do not click read more- if you do not want to read more.
I am not here to police how you use Tumblr, but Minors- Please Do Not Interact.
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Neteyam Works
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Neteyam x human reader thigh riding
Omega!Neteyam Headcannons
Neteyam fucking you standing up
Mean Neteyam Choking and Spitting
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Multi Part Stories I am working on as of: 6/6/23:
✨First Love/Late Spring Series Masterlist✨
As a high standing member of the Metkayina Tribe, it’s been a mystery as to why you’re still unmated, years into your adulthood. When the eldest Sully boy catches your eye- you hope that you won’t spend the upcoming Fertility Season alone. Filled with lots of angst, smut and all around tooth rotting fluff.
Neteyam x Female Metkayina Reader!
Part One: First Love/Late Spring
Part Two: Crawling Back to You
Part Three: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea
You Get Me So High
Drabble! In the FLLS universe! You and Neteyam share a morning full of domestic bliss. PG-13, Minors can interact with this one!
✨Howling For You Series Masterlist✨
Neteyam has always been awkward, defensive and guarded when it comes to love. Being an Omega, he’s always felt the need to overcompensate for his secondary gender. When the Alpha daughter of Tonowari and Ronal makes it clear that she wants to court him, will he be able to let go of his own self doubt and accept the love that she’s so willing to give?
Omega Neteyam x Female Alpha Reader
Part One: Fxtavang(passionate)
Part Two: Yawnyewla(broken hearted)
Part Three: Tizin(entangled)
Part Four: Coming soon!
Mi Ti’ong(In Bloom)
Summary: Neteyam can have anyone and yet he only wants you. A small human who can usually be found among the flowers. Neteyam x Human! Reader
Based off of @oakbuggy Neteyam x Flora art!
Heavy In Your Arms
Summary: You and Neteyam find comfort in each-others bodies after he almost dies. Set in High Camp, circa the beginning of ATWOW. Neteyam x Omatikaya Reader!
Sweetest Sylaung
Summary: You have no right to have your eyes set on the future Olo’eyktan of the Omiticaya, but you just can’t seem to resist. Neteyam x Human Reader
Explicit. Aged up! Characters. Minors DNI
Just a Little Taste
Summary: Being eight months pregnant with the child of the future Olo’eyktan inherently comes with its pressures, the fact that you’re pregnant in the middle of a war makes it worse. Neteyam likes to remind you that you’re in control.
Neteyam x Human!Reader
Explicit! Aged up characters! Minors DNI.
Cosmic Love
As Kiri’s closest friend, you had always found your self sucked in by the gravitational pull of the Sully family. Neteyam had become your sun, and you orbited around only him.
On Hiatus until further notice
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Lo’ak Works
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Omega Loak being knotted for the first time
Spit Kink
Lo’ak x Fem!Reader x Tsireya threesome
Omega Lo’ak reacting to the news that his Female!Alpha mate is pregnant
Overstimulation
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Jake Sully Works
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Drabbles
Cock warming(Avatar Jake x Human Reader)
Alpha Jakes first knot
Omega Jakes first heat(Jake x Neytiri)
Jake spitting in your mouth
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Buzzcut Season
Summary: You’re a scientist working closely with Grace Augistine at the Pandorian outreach base of Hell’s Gate. When you develop a crush on ex-jarhead Jake Sully it’s all consuming. You don’t really care what body he’s in. You want him.
Human Jake x Human Reader. Avatar! Jake x Human reader.
Explicit. Coming soon.
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Misc Drabbles!
Being Ao’nungs peace
Reminding Tsireya who she belongs to
Tsu’tey has a breeding kink
Neytiri rides you
Who’s the most likely to come untouched? Multi!
Characters I will write for/ Have plans for:
Ao’nung
Neytiri
Tsireya
Ronal
Tonowari
Tsu’tey
Miles Quaritch(um…yeah. I never thought we’d be here, but here we are)
Spider Socorro
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*The art used in this Masterlist is not mine, no credit goes to me. If you are the artist and would like to be credited, please let me know. If you are the artist and would like to have your pieces removed, please let me know. The aged up Lo’ak AI art is by @smilexskxawng*
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tyrantisterror · 3 months
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You seem to have been enjoying Baldur's Gate III a lot. Would you mind giving your thoughts on the individual companions? I'm just curious to see what your take on them is.
Yeah sure! The game's been rotting my brain for months now in part because of its character writing, so I can stand to gush about the companions a bit.
Before we get to the companions individually, I want to talk about them as a group, because one of the things that makes this game so impressive to me is its commitment to its core themes, and that extends to how the companions were crafted as a group. See, each of the core six companions have the following things in common:
The mindflayer tadpole that threatens to turn them into a monster against their will (i.e. the thing that gets them all together on a quest)
A personal history of being abused and exploited by someone they trusted
A Want that comes as a result of their personal history of abuse that is self destructive but understandable given their circumstances
A Need that comes as a result of their personal history of abuse that they have written off or ignored because their past makes them think fulfilling it is impossible
A point in their character arc where they will come into conflict with the player character if the player character tries to advocate for their Need over their Want. If the player values the Want over the Need, the relationship will initially go smoother, but end badly.
The overall theme of Baldur's Gate 3 can be loosely summed up in one of its major recurring songs, I Want to Live, and that's ultimately what each character's arc is a variation of: the desperate desire to live in a world that has been trying to kill your mind, body, and soul to the best of its ability. Got it? Cool, we can talk about the characters now that we've got this established.
Oh, and, uh, this game covers some... HEAVY themes, given that abuse is one of the common denominators between the companions. I'm going to try to be gentle in talking about it, but this will cover some of that subject matter, so this is your warning if you want to avoid that.
Companion 1: Astarion, My Bisexual Awakening
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I'm going to start with the companion I feel is the most talked about/popular/overexposed I suppose, Astarion. I feel like anyone with even the vaguest knowledge of Baldur's Gate 3 probably recognizes Astarion at this point, even if it's just as "that annoying vampire twink I'm sick of seeing." There's already a growing "he's popular so he sucks" movement about Astarion here on tumblr and at the cesspool of hate known as Twitter, because of course there is, he's popular, ergo he must suck.
...
I think Astarion is one of the best written video game characters of all time.
There's this one great tumblr post that summarizes Astarion's role in the narrative really well, with the great punchline of "Astarion is kinda like if they sexualized gollum," which is not only funny but perfectly accurate. I can't really top that, so I'm just going to talk around some of its points a bit, but I highly recommend reading it yourself, it's more concise and well-thought out than whatever this ramble will be.
But, ok, so, "I Want to Live" is our theme, right? Astarion is dead. Dead to begin with, Marley style. He has been killed, at a young age, before his time. Sure, he was brought back to a sort of life, being a vampire and a member of the undead and all, but the life he knew is gone. All the pathos one can mine from being a vampire is played up here, for as Astarion himself notes, he's not even a full fledge vampire, but a vampire spawn - "All of the drawbacks, few of the perks." Worse, as a vampire spawn, he's magically bound to the will of the vampire that turned him - forced to live out his undead life as a slave to a sadistic monster that abused him in every way a person can be abused.
Which is why Astarion is the only companion who's entirely thankful for the mindflayers kidnapping him and implanting a tadpole in his head - because they broke that magic connection to his master, and gave him resistances to many of the stock vampire weaknesses to boot (hungry tadpole doesn't want its meat suit burning in the sun, after all). Astarion's life was so fucked that getting a brain-eating parasite was a unilateral improvement.
But while the magic connection is severed, the psychological affect of the abuse Astarion suffered lingers. His master made him use sex as a lure to bring victims to his lair, and so Astarion still believes that he has to offer people sex to "earn his keep" - that his body is a tool for others to use for their gratification, and if he refuses their desires he puts his life at peril. Astarion hates putting himself out to help other people not only because no one has done that for him during his long undead life, but because doing so puts his life at risk. Astarion is power hungry - his Want is to be as strong, no, stronger than his master, so that way he can never be afraid again. Astarion Wants to be a true vampire.
His need, however, is to find value in the life he has now. He needs people who love him for who he is, not what he can offer, and who will protect him the way he has needed protecting for hundreds of years. His need is to be shown that kindness isn't a weakness, that charity is possible, that power does not have to be gained through selfish and cruel means. You're shown this in the game's approval mechanic - while Astarion will disapprove of you putting yourself out on a limb for others and revealing sensitive information freely, he has a soft spot for whenever you help someone who, like him, is being exploited. Because while he'll protest otherwise, Astarion wants to believe kindness is possible, and that the horrible things he's suffered don't define him. Astarion may believe he's just a tool to serve others' desires, but that doesn't mean he doesn't wish to be more than that.
And I know the cynics among you are like "Oh, ok, so the cute vampire twink has a ludicrously tragic backstory. How is that original or good writing?" Because that's the thing, right? If there's an effeminate, brooding bad boy character that lots of teenage girls like in a piece of media, it HAS to be shallow wangst at its core. Every tumblr sexyman is just Edward Cullen when you cut past the bullshit, right?
Like, I know I'm not going to convince the "Thing popular so thing bad" crowd on Astarion's quality no matter how many words I write, but, like, there is a reason for the hype. Dude's got fucking layers! The different interactions with him you can have, the dimensions you can bring out of him by how you choose to engage with him, all paint this great tapestry of a character who takes the concept of a vampire and explores it to a depth few pieces of media have every plunged to.
And he's fucking funny! Dude's got some of the best lines in the game, and his voice actor didn't just give him a sexy sultry voice, but, like, shades of Tim Curry that make him endearingly weird and goofy and witty as hell while still being very sexy.
And yes, he's a sexy vampire, that's a big point in his favor and what most people are dwelling on. And I'm standing by the sexy part - listen, for the past few years I've been kind of wrestling with whether or not I'm bisexual, and the question was laid to rest the first time this fucker flirted with me in game. My heart raced, my cheeks flushed, I reflexively giggled and went "Whoo!" like a Southern Belle in need of a feinting couch. Every time he's flirted with me since has given me the fucking vapors. Thank you, Astarion, I'm bi for sure now. you solved that fucking riddle pretty decisively.
Let's move on.
Companion 2: Shadowheart, A Fellow Lapsed Catholic
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Shadowheart is a bundle of contradictions. She's got some of the best quips and quickest wits in the game, and she's also a huge fucking dork. She is oozing with confidence about the role she's been assigned to play and is incredibly assertive in group social situations, but on her own she's a mess of insecurities and is constantly plagued with doubts about her worth. She's constantly preaching about the need to be pragmatic and self-focused, but loves it whenever you are kind and generous. Depending on your choices during the tutorial level, she can become the first ride-or-die party member you get, and she's also a miserable pile of secrets who is terrified of you discovering what she really is.
See, Shadowheart is a cleric of Shar, the Goddess of Darkness, which is both in a literal and figurative sense - that is, Shar is the goddess of night and the absence of light, but, like, also the goddess of loss, and sorrow, and hopelessness, and secrets, and lies. The Goddess of Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss, basically. Being raised to follow the goddess has plagues Shadowheart with guilt over the secrets she's had to keep, the cruelties she's had to inflict, and the distance she's kept from all people in her life as a result of the church's creed. If you're a nerd who comes into this game knowing who Shar is, you'd probably be immediately suspicious of Shadowheart when you find out her alleigance, because Shar's basically one of the more prominent evil gods whose followers are always fucking things up for everyone.
However, I did not come into this game knowing that, but I did come into it knowing what's it's like to be raised in a religion that teaches you that many of your natural desires for companionship are wrong and to feel guilt and paranoia over how your every action will be judged, for like Shadowheart, I am also a Catholic.
Shadowheart's Want is to become a Dark Justiciar, which is basically the Sharran equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition, and to fully prove her devotion to Shar's will. The way she talks about Shar is so thickly coded with the way children of abusive parents talk about said parents that's it's legitimately frightening to witness at times. Shadowheart doesn't blame Shar for hurting her, she knows it's her fault for disappointing Shar in the first place.
Shadowheart's Need is to leave the fucking Catholic church. Depending on your choices, she can accomplish this with the help of two moon-worshipping lesbians, at which point she dyes her hair a color that would piss off her parents Shar and proceeds to indulge in a somewhat hedonistic rebellion of self actualization that only a lapsed Catholic can fully comprehend. I love her.
Companion 3: Lae'Zel, The World's Most Loyal Toad
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Ok, so, brief tangent: one of my favorite games of all time is Dragon Age Origins, and it is one of my favorite games of all time in part because it has Morrigan, one of the best characters in all of fantasy fiction, fuck you fight me. Morrigan is a divisive character in the DA fandom because she is notoriously hard to please if you're trying to be a good person - it was so prominent a criticism, in fact, that "Morrigan Disapproves" was put on a fucking t-shirt to play on/monetize the controversy.
But, see, the thing about Morrigan is that she's 1. incredibly complex and 2. designed to challenge your worldview, and to be challenged in turn. Morrigan isn't just an evil bitch, she has a genuine philosophy for why she behaves as coldly as she does, which in part stems from her awful upbringing by her cruel, selfish hermit mother who was trying to shelter her from an even crueller world that would see her in chains just for being a witch. Morrigan has been taught that love is a weakness others will exploit, that kindness is folly, and that everyone is out for themselves. And you need to contradict her on that - getting to know her inevitably involves fighting her on this point, and you proving to her that the cruelty she's been taught is wrong. If you are willing to listen, to argue, to truly understand this character, she grows because of you. It makes her character arc so fucking satisfying, when you get to the end of the game and she realizes that she does love you, she does want to be kind, and that even though she now feels more accutely than ever how love has made her weak, she can't be without it. It's so fucking good.
I bring Morrigan up because almost all the companions in Baldur's Gate 3 are on her level, in part because they are designed like her - to challenge you and be challenged in turn. And none of the core six are more like her than Lae'zel.
Which, sadly, includes the fan backlash part. A lot of fans of the game hate Lae'zel - she's too mean, they say, too hostile, to proud of her strange and callous worldview, too critical of our normal and kind outlook, too difficult to relate to.
These people are cowards.
If Shadowheart is Catholic, then Lae'zel is, like, Christian Reformed. A fundie. She's been training at Githyanki Bible Camp for years to be her lichqueen's perfectly loyal soldier, only to run into this minor snag of being kidnapped by Mindflayers, the ancestral enemies of her people, and infected with a tadpole that will turn her into one of them, the Worst Fate that can become a Githyanki. Luckily, she's read all of her people's Chick Tracts, and knows that if she can get to one of the Githyanki creches, they can use their special machine to pray the tadpole out of her brain and save her.
Lae'zel has drunk the metaphorical kool-aid of her people, but only to a point. See, Githyankis are viciously racist, but Lae'zel is REALLY quick to accept you and most of the other companions (not Shadowheart, though, as like a true Fundie, she cannot stand a Catholic) despite them not being Giths like herself. Yeah, she'll preen and posture about the superiority of her kind a bit, but she sides with you within seconds of meeting you, and from that point on she is ride or die until you give her a good reason to think otherwise. Lae'zel can be mean, stubborn, and arrogant, but she is above all else loyal.
Her Want is to be a perfect Githyanki warrior, earning the respect of her queen and serving her endlessly in the Astral Plane. Of course, when you actually get to that creche she's pointing you towards early in the game, this all falls apart on her, because just like Fundamentalist Christianity, Githyanki culture is little more than a sham designed to uphold an evil and exploitative power structure where the rich drain the life and resources of everyone beneath them and declare it the will of the divine. In this case, that "drain the life" part is explicitly literal, as the Githyanki queen literally devours the life force of any gith that gets even a bit close to rivaling her in power. If Lae'zel tries to follow her dream, it will end with her queen eating her soul.
Lae'zel's Need is to not only break out of her culture's indoctrination, but to find a way to make her life worthwhile on her own terms. It's heartbreaking to witness, honestly, because unlike the other core companions, Lae'zel has no idea what a life outside of her Want looks like. What is she without serving her queen? What the hell does she want? If you've been taught God your queen is all that is good, then how the fuck you you figure out what good is when you realize she's actually evil?
And while she goes through this seriously traumatic existential crisis, she finds the energy to be invested in the struggles of you and your companions. When the other characters are going through The Shit in their respective arcs, Lae'zel is always quick to note that she thinks they are strong and deserve more than they're getting - even Shadowheart, that fucking Catholic!
Because the first word you'd ever use to describe Lae'zel, the one that most succinctly captures who she is, is LOYAL. She fucking rocks, I love her.
Companion 4: Wyll, The Unjustly Underrated
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Almost no one talks about Wyll and it fucking sucks, man. I mean, we all know why (it starts with a Ra and ends in a Cism), but still it fucking blows dude. And yes, I include myself in this, anyone who's followed my blog can tell that Wyll's not the companion I fixate on the most.
But listen, I promise you, if the game let me take along four companions instead of three, Wyll... would be competing with Lae'zel for spot #4, and Lae'zel might win out because she's an angry girl, but... fuck I'm losing the plot.
Wyll is great though! He's severely underrated! He's one of the nicest companions you'll get, first of all, but he's not just a nice guy. Everyone's got layers in this, right? Wyll is nice, but he's also a bit arrogant - a glory hound, really. He's the only companion who's given himself a superhero name, and he routinely uses it. Dude wants to be fuckin' Batman so bad, it's wonderful.
He's also the most actively fucked member of the party. Everyone's got abusers in their past, but Wyll's is the only one who's followed him to your camp. Mizora, the devil he sold his soul too, frequently shows up to give him shitty tasks and shittier punishments, and is one of the most hateful fucking characters I have ever encountered in my life. Like, to put this in perspective: if you know me, you know that I have certain... preferences... when it comes to women. So if there was, say, a demon lady character who's also a bit of a dominatrix, and I fucking hated her guts, you'd probably be a bit surprised given, you know, my preferences.
But the way Mizora treats Wyll? The way she talks about him and to him? It's fucking heinous. She's not fun evil, she's evil evil, and she's got to fucking go.
It kind of reframes Wyll's kindness and cockiness as you experience it, because beneath the showy acts of heroism and the bluster, Wyll is a sad little dog in a burning apartment telling himself "this is fine!" over and over again.
Wyll's Want is to be a hero and make the sacrifice of his soul worth something. He has accepted that there is no redemption for himself, that Mizora preying upon his vulnerability in the past is something he can never recover from, that he cannot be free of her chains, and only hopes to use what time he has to do some good, even if it inevitably comes at the cost of his life.
His Need is to break out of Mizora's control, to wrest his fate back into his own hands, and to prove what has always been true: that he IS the hero he's selling himself as. It's a real Rango arc if you think about it.
Companion 5: Gale, The Friend With the Messiest Fucking Love Life You've Ever Heard Of Goddamn
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Gale... kind of breaks the companion formula, a little bit? Like, for the other five core companions, there is a clear-cut situation where they were abused and exploited by an asshole - Shar exploited Shadowheart, Cazador the master vampire exploited Astarion, Mizora exploits Wyll, etc. Gale's fucked up traumatic relationship is a bit... messier, and harder to untangle, because by his own admission, he was not blameless in it.
Gale is a wizard, and like all good wizards in fiction, he's a bit of a mad scientist. He was so good at wizarding, in fact, that the goddess of magic itself, Mystra, reached out to him, and eventually the two had a little romance. Now, fans have gone back and forth interpreting this, with some saying that Mystra was grooming Gale from childhood and thus is as bad as Cazador/Shar/Mizora/et cetera. I feel that's kind of a bad faith reading of the character, one that's actively ignoring the concept of what an ageless immortal goddess is to try and fit it into a human context.
For nerds who know about the setting, Mystra is NOT an evil goddess like Shar. In fact, she's kind of a vitally important goddess to have around, as Magic is such an integral part of the reality of this setting that not having a god of some sort for it results in an fucking extinction event - which the characters in the game know for a fact because at one point in the past, a mortal wizard killed Mystra and made that extinction event happen. Mystra reformed, as gods do, and eventually things got back to more or less normal, but that doesn't do much for the shitload of people and creatures that died during the period of time where magic was dead.
And that's what ends up souring Gale and Mystra's relationship. Gale, being mortal, felt he had to prove he was Mystra's equal, and so set out to find a source of magical power not unlike that used by the wizard in the past who killed Mystra. And when Mystra saw Gale doing that, she freaked the fuck out because she thought she was going to get killed again - because the wizard who slew her in the past ALSO felt he needed to prove he was equal to a goddess.
Neither character takes the breakup well. Gale feels like fucking shit because he fumbled a literal goddess, and also got a piece of super destructive magic lodged in his chest in the process that's slowly killing him. And Mystra is worried that the super powerful piece of magic lodged in Gale's chest could kill her, and also about the cult using a very similar piece of magic (it's a big plot point for the game I won't go into it this is already too long), and so, in an act of cruel godly pragmatism, she sends D&D Gandalf to tell Gale to use his the magic murder ball in his chest to kill the cult, even though it'll destroy him in the process. "Hi sweetie, please kill yourself on my behalf, k thanx!" basically.
It's... it's a mess.
Gale's Want is to prove he is Mystra's equal by mastering the ancient magic he's found, and either win her back or, better yet, become a god himself and dethrone her. As I said, he's got a bit of a mad scientist in him.
Gale's Need is to move on from this relationship, talk things out with his ex, give her her dvds the ancient magic artifacts back, and move on with his life.
I like Gale. He's got funny lines, he loves his cat, he's a goofy nerd, and while his love life is a mess, his heart is mostly in the right place. He needs some nudges to do the right thing, but he's a good guy deep down, and I always love it when fiction shows a relationship that falls apart not because one person in it was "bad," but because the two people were just not compatible. Yeah, Gale fucked up, but you can understand why he fucked up, and he can understand it too if you help him own up to his mistakes and move forward. Also, he loves his cat, he can't be all bad.
Companion 6: Karlach, the Most Beautiful Woman I've Ever Seen
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Karlach is my favorite companion in this game, which is why I saved her for (sort of) last. And, yes, sure, part of it is because of my aforementioned preferences with women...
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she's so goddamn pretty
But it's also because of how she plays with those core themes I've mentioned. Karlach was sold into slavery as a teenager, where her devil master ripped out her heart and replaced it with an engine to turn her into a super-strong gladiator. She's been living in literal Hell for years, fighting every day to survive, and like Astarion she actually views being kidnapped by Mindflayers as a godsend since it freed her from her enslavement.
Unlike Astarion, Karlach doesn't have a long life to look forward to. That engine in her chest can't work properly outside of Hell, and it will eventually break, overheat, and melt her from the inside out. Karlach is the only companion who knows she's going to die soon whether or not the tadpole is taken out - no matter how this adventure ends, she will die.
At least, that's what she's told herself. Karlach's Want is to never return to Literal Hell, no matter what, because she's afraid if she does she will be taken as a slave again, and that there is no hope for a good life if she touches foot on that ground again. Following this want means she WILL die - either by the engine, by her enemies in the mortal plane, or by turning into a mind flayer (because while mind flayers can retain their hosts' memories, they are NOT the same being as their host).
And Karlach is convinced she's ok with this! No, really, she's fine! This is fine! She's got a few days left to live, and she's going to enjoy them! She is unfailingly kind and compassionate, always willing to help others, always cheery and taking the best view of her friends and people in need, a ray of fucking sunshine.
And beneath it all she's terrified and sad. When you get towards the end of the game, and Karlach feels how close the Inevitable End is, she reaches a breaking point where that happy facade snaps and it's... it's gut wrenching, man. It breaks your fucking heart, because as much as she's determined not to risk setting foot in Literal Hell ever again, she really doesn't want to die.
...
Karlach's Need is to go back to Literal Hell long enough to get that engine replaced. Her Need is to find hope, TRUE hope, not just a facade of optimism - a true belief that she can face the worst and come out of it ok, that she can survive, that she is not alone in facing the darkest shit this world can throw at her. Her Need is to find the strength to believe that she can live, even if it's hard, even if it's Hell to get there.
And Karlach is worth it. She is worth Hell.
Companions 7 - 10 Speedrun
I don't have as much to say about the four other companions you can get in the game, mainly because I already love these six so much that trying to take time to get to know four other weirdos who I don't get to recruit until halfway through the game just... like, there's a party limit of four characters and one is me, I can only take three of you along at a time, I'm prioritizing the one's who've been with me since all the goblin shit in Act 1, feel me? The rest of you seem real neat but I've got my nakama all set, we're good.
Halsin is the one I know the most of these four because he helped me at the tail end of the goblin stuff and he seems fine. He's a big nice hippie who turns into a bear and is into polygamy and carving wooden ducks. A lot of people thirst for him, but he's not my type - like I get the appeal but this is a case of Not My Favorite Pennywise Hentai But OK as far as I'm concerned. I like his subplot about restoring balance to the cursed forest, though. Felt like teaming up with Smokey the Bear.
Minthara is the companion that used to require you to kill a shitload of innocent people to recruit, but people found weird work-arounds that involved turning her into a sheep and so the developers sighed and released a patch where you could recruit her without mass murder using only slightly cheesey means. She is Genuinely Evil, but in a complicated way that's still fun from a character perspective. She's also a great comically serious character - i.e. someone who's so serious all the time that they end up being incredibly funny on accident just by their muted reactions to all the weirdness around them. From the clip compilations I've watched on youtube, her romance is basically a Lady Macbeth situation, and that's pretty hot. If it weren't for Karlach, I'd... romance Astarion, but if it weren't for Astarion, I'd... romance Shadowheart, but if it weren't for Shadowheart, I'd... romance Lae'zel, but if it weren't for Lae'zel, I might romance Minthara. Or Wyll. One of the two.
Jaheira is a character from one of the previous Baldur's Gate games, neither of which I've played, so I had no preconceptions or attachments to her going in this game. She basically becomes your surrogate mom as the game goes along, and I mean that as a compliment. She's pretty great and fills a nice emotional niche - I didn't use her that much because, again, I've already got six close friends to rotate out, I'm not going to ditch them for long periods of time to hang out with my MOM, but it was nice having her along for the ride a few times.
Minsc is the OTHER returning character from the previous games, and from what I can tell he's basicall Kronk from The Emperor's New Groove but with a funny accent. I like him, he's fun comic relief, and he throws a hamster at people while telling it to eat their eyes. I don't have a lot to say on Minsc, I just think he's neat.
At some point I might do a followup to this gushing about NPCs from the game, because goddamn the supporting cast is great too. Omeluum, Us, the Emperor, fucking Dame Aylin. Dame Aylin is so goddamn fucking cool, I want to read novels about her adventures, she rocks so hard. All glory to the Nightsong!
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forestshadow-wolf · 8 months
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Thinking about your post about soapghost settling their arguments by fighting it out: one day they have an argument about something serious, some sort of major life decision (retirement, marriage, kids, something like that and really the only reason its an argument is because one of them is scared shitless by the idea) and it ends up on the mats with them yelling arguments about why it is/isn't a good idea until one of them just stares at their partner who is yelling passionately about the life they could have together and just... let's himself get pinned.
👀 did I do good?
thankyou for this ask !!!! this actually rots my frickin' brain and I needed an excuse to write more for this using this ask to force the arguments post into my girl-dad au, but doesn't have to be read that way.
P.s. this is a long one. Imma put ot under the cut
I imagine, way way before they retired, they had married and long-since agreed to retire together.
they'd fought about retiring. Ghost didn't mind the idea of it, was waiting for it to happen actually. but soap, he had quite a few hang-ups about it. see, he'd joined the army at an early age, as soon as he was legal, which means he doesn't really have any civilian life experience. what if he's not ready, what is it doesn't work for him, what if he can't do it, what if, what if, what if...
they argued, it was one of the first BIG arguments they'd ever had. but it's fine, they had a system. they get one day to resolve it with words, if they can't solve it, they take it to the mats. the logic is if you really believe in your argument, then you'll fight defend it adequately.
it was evident when they ended up on the mats on the second day that they hadn't resolved it. There was a mutual apoken agreement that they don'ttake the argumentoff the mats once it entered. they traded blows just as frequently as they traded arguments.
hours later they were panting and exhausted, and still hadn't come to an agreement, and nor had either of them won. so for the first time ever, they had to put the argument on pause. the put it aside for the night, cleaned up, had dinner, and fell asleep in each other's arms. the next morning they were back on the mats.
there was some point, when they were locked shoulder to shoulder, sweat making their skin stick together, and they were too out of breath to hiss arguments at each other. there was a moment where soap could hear Ghost's breath come out shaky with exertion, but still he pushed harder. soap realized that this, Simon retiring with his Johnny, was really truly important to Ghost.
it's not like he didn't know that, but still, the revelation almost makes him falter. suddenly it's like every argument he made against it, became irrelevant. he breaks away from Ghost's hold, panting. in a brash decision he dives for Ghost's legs, he knows what follows will be a grab around his waist just before his back slams into the mat. the sound that reverberates through the heated, sweaty air is, however, surprisingly loud. he lays there, gasping for the breath that got knocked out of him, and lets Ghost pin him down.
After soap finally agreed to retire with Ghost one day, he starts thinking about it. Really thinking. About how he grew up in a large family, and even in the military his life has been revolving around moving parts and people. He thinks maybe he might want a kid or two, not as many as his parents, but one or two.
Ghost says no immediately after soap brings it up.
He's afraid he'll do a bad job, that he'll mess it up. Or even worse; become his father. I mean, how is he supposed to be a good dad of he doesn't even know what that means! Christ! He's just gonna mess them up! He's not cut out to be a father. All he's know is death and hurt. How is that supposed to translate into something good.
This one. This argument lasted even longer than the one about them retiring. This one lasted almost an entire week.
And again like last time they got one day, before they hit the mats. That one day, was the single most tense day on base. Neither soap nor ghost could speak to eachother without circling back to the argument at hand. And of course nobody was willing to break up the fight, lest they get pulled into it.
For the six days after that, they shed their responsibilities, and hit the mats. And it was viscous. Neither held back. They were evenly matched. One fueled by fear, and the other; hope or love, choose your pick.
Even still there was an understanding that once the argument entered the mats, it stayed there when they left, to be picked back up when they came back.
They were sent on one mission during that time, on the sixth day after they hit the mats. It was supposed to last to be easy, would take them less than a day. Of course something went wrong, because something always goes wrong. They both almost died, but through some ruck of luck they got out barely scathed.
The put their gear away, ate, and hit the mats again; despite how tired they were. And Ghost, the moment that ge stepped back onto the mat again, he knew. He knew that he'd do anything for soap. They'd almost died today. But they didn't. Infact, they barely even had any scratches on them.
But still he couldn't fight that instinct to fight, to push back. And still soap was smiling that damned smile. He was so sure of himself, so sure of that he could get ghost to say yes.
And rightfully so. Because one moment he was lifting soap to throw him over his shoulder, and the next he was the one on the ground, soap having used his own momentum to pull his legs out from under him.
And he could have fought it, his mind screamed at him to. But soap was still grinning, and he knew that there was no way he'd be winning.
Perhaps... perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps he could learn to be not like his father. Perhaps he could learn to be a dad. Perhaps there was a chance, with soap by his side, showing him how, that he would ruin the child or children that they got. Perhaps soap could show him how to not be like his father.
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yojeongin · 2 years
Text
happy together | m.l + l.dh [PART 1]
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→husband!lee haechan x reader x bff!mark lee
genre: smut, angst, hurt, marriage au, love triangle, forbidden affair, friends to secret lovers, 90s au
synopsis: mark’s life is crumbling all around him too rapidly while the married life isn’t what either you and hyuck expected. taking in your husband’s best friend was meant to bring you good karma but all his presence is doing is stir the pot and worsen the cracks in each relationship. 
warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! toxic marriage, mutual infidelity, morally grey characters, fingering, breast play, unprotected sex, car sex, oral sex (f receiving), spit kink, pet names, public sex, riding, smoking, reckless driving, mention of pet death
wc: 22.9k+  || soundtrack || ao3
finale | epilogue
© 2022 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!
disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.
an: look at that, a yojeongin update !! I enjoyed writing this too much so I hope you guys like it. btw if you want to be tagged for part 2 just lmk or fill out the taglist form in my masterlist; btw im sorry its so long 😭 I try to shorten them but they each get increasingly longer; a playlist for this does exist so listen it please <3 spotify in my masterlist
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Mark never expected his life to crumble at such an early age. It was all falling out of place so rapidly that he didn’t really know what to do. 
One second he was his college prodigy, opening exhibition after exhibition, and next he’s wheeling out suitcase after suitcase from this grimy taxi that he could barely afford last minute. The odor of rotting deli meats suffocating him the longer the car ride became.
Struggling to get them out of the car as the driver refused to even look his way, Mark cursed under his breath at how useless someone could be. But he bit his tongue as the words of his own father calling him such, rang through his ears. Perhaps he was right all along and his words were rather a prophecy than a silly scolding at the time. 
The pavement was littered with puddles of rain and the sky threatened to make more droplets fall so once all of his items were out of the car, Mark made his way towards the well kept building, reciprocating the neglect of the driver. As he drove off some puddle water splashed onto his shoes making the young man grunt in frustration. 
Life was only getting worse. 
The lobby was cold and brightly lit, almost too clean but he only dirtied it with his wet shoes dragging to the elevator. A trail of his mistakes following him around. He was freezing inside but with the note on the elevator doors reading that it was broken, Mark would surely warm up with his walk up all those stairs to the fifth floor carrying all his suitcases. 
After some inner complaining and cursing, Mark simply sighed, feeling his brain begin to swirl in frustration as he looked everywhere to find the staircase. The receptionist was of no help, slumped over the desk and intensely staring at the small television perched on the top counter, a drama in a language he couldn’t quite grasp, taking her entire attention. 
Tiresomely, Mark finally arrived to the fifth floor, pearls of sweat decorating his pretty face and the sound of labored panting slipping through his parted lips. He could barely open the door to the floor but he managed to do so even with all the luggage handles in one hand, threatening to slip and fall down the staircase. Almost like his life. 
Life was only playing joke after joke as the minute he managed to pull off the suitcases in front of him, the elevator dinged. Its doors opened widely, almost as if it was in a rush to kick out the couple that had disturbed its peaceful area. 
Their loud bantering could make anyone feel crazy and at this state right now, Mark was the most easily affected. 
“So now I’m crazy because I’m telling you that that bitch coworker of yours keeps flirting with you?” Your chuckle was anything but playful and joyous like he’d heard before. Trailing behind you, his best friend had nothing but a tired sunken look along with the anger that was bubbling up because of you alone. 
“You’re crazy in general, you don’t have to bring her up for me to know you are.” 
Mockery was delivered by the hazel haired boy that pulled at those same strands, feeling like he was pulling patches. His steps became harsher and louder to catch up to you. 
Despite his initial personal frustrations, Mark was at least glad you’d two helped to lighten his mood (argument or not). 
Just as vile spilled from his friend’s lips, your body swung, turning to your husband and taking his left arm onto one of your hands. Your grip tightening just by recalling his words. 
���Don’t fucking call me crazy,” your eyes projected the fiery pits of hell, your burning anger too obvious to try and hide. Boring holes into Haechan’s own eyes and speaking through gritted teeth hoping that he could feel a hot wrath. 
Just as he was to speak, continuing his hate filled words, your eyes averted, finally taking in the figure that stared at both of you dumbfoundedly. 
“Mark!” That seeping anger from just seconds ago had dissipated into thin air, almost as if it had never been there just from seeing an old friend. 
Letting go of your husband, you ran towards his best friend taking him by surprise with the force of your embrace against him. Mark only chuckled as he wrapped his own arms around your waist, pulling you in as tightly as you did him even if he felt gross from his work out up those stairs. 
“Stop hogging him.” Hyuck spoke poutingly, pulling at your arm to let go of his friend. Halfway off him, Hyuck took him into his own embrace, slightly uncomfortable as you refused to let go of the older male. 
“When did you get here?” Hyuck questions, taking some of the suitcases off of Mark’s hands despite his protesting. 
Shaking his head while thanking him, Mark felt your hand slightly squeeze his arm letting him know it was no problem. “Literally just got here actually.” He chuckled not before showing you a tender smile as a thank you. 
With the door finally unlocked, you pushed it widely to let him in. Mark was in awe with the way the apartment was decorated. He knew it was all your doing besides the desk in the corner of the living room that was hidden from view with the kitchen wall. That was surely Hyuck’s.
It was cozy and warm, just the way you always said you wanted your place to be and he was glad that you’d still held this up despite how things seemed to be looking. At least from the occasional letters you’d both write to him for updates.
In fact he still noticed that youthful joy and hope when he looked at you as of now. The pep in your step as you giggled towards the fridge and pulled out a beer for all of you. 
“To celebrate your new exhibition!” Naive too. 
Your smile was so wide and your eyes seemed to show how proud of him you were that he didn’t have in his heart to let you know that his life had gone downhill and his exhibition was a failure. 
You had approached him with a freezing cold bottle to the point your fingers felt numb but you graciously opened it with that silly shark bottle opener with googly eyes that bounced every time a bottle was successfully opened. 
He had given it to you once the three of you had gone to the local fair. A vendor had lent it to him to open a bottle of coke while the three of you had tacos for dinner,he ended up forgetting to give it back. 
Seeing as you had found it adorable on the ride back to his now old apartment, Mark told you to just keep it at that point. 
His eyes followed every movement of your hands, how you tried your best to move as quickly as you could when opening your own. How your hands wiped at the skirt of your dress to gain some warmth but you’d only clamp them together in pain trying to relieve some of it. 
Once you deemed them to be alright to manage, you rushed back to the kitchen followed by Donghyuck’s whining on to why you hadn’t opened his only to be received with a low and angered: “Open it yourself.” Obviously, you were still very much upset with him.   
Mark gave Hyuck a look, jokingly laughing at him for the favoritism displayed. His friend only shoved him playfully before taking the opener into his hands. 
“Sorry I wasn’t able to go to the opening. Hyuck worked until late and you know him, I can’t be out late without him. Right, dad?” You teased, turning to glare at your husband as you set down the bowl of seasoned peanuts for Mark to enjoy. Hyuck pretended to mimic you watching as you settled at Mark’s feet right across from him.
Mark continued his silent laughter, taking a chug from his drink while demonstrating the pain the coldness of it was causing in him. “It’s fine, you wouldn’t like it either way. At least others aren’t liking it.” 
Huge disappointment was laced with every word. The critics were getting to him and it was so evident in the way he spoke. With his words you looked at Hyuck questioning what was going on but he gave you no response. 
“What? Why? Your work is amazing.” You comforted him, giving his knee a slight squeeze that was only received with a smile. 
Shifting in his spot making sure to not give you a nudge or kick, he spoke, “It hasn’t really been the best days lately…” his sight shifted from you to his knees. “Some investments went horrible and the exhibition tanked. It’s doing really bad so yeah, everyone has their downfall and I guess this one’s mine.”
Even though he laughed to ease the tension, Mark felt it present in the room. Noting the pout on your face knowing you felt sorry for it, he gave a tight lipped smile. 
“Yeah, so– yeah that’s why I’m really thankful you guys are letting me stay a while here, it means a lot.” Though you never minded if he stayed, you were still confused.
Your face a dead giveaway that was making the male panic slightly. “Stay? Hyuck didn’t say any—“
“Oh… oh shit, I can leave of course,” He rubbed a hand over his face, guilt and embarrassment embroidered in his words. “My bad I didn’t mean to just barge in.”
He chuckled nervously, shifting in a way to stand without disrupting you, yet you rushed to sit besides him, taking his arm into a tight hug while telling him not to.
“No! Oh my God. No!” Desperately you’d plead, Hyuck standing up himself to sit Mark back down, his words drowning in the ocean of your apologies. 
“Nah nah, it’s fine, dude.” He was obviously tired, his eyes trying their best to not shut while trying to calm down his friend. Though drowsy, neither you or Mark missed the harsh glare he threw your way. Almost trying his best to not scold you through gritted teeth.
“I'm sorry, Mark. Hyuck just didn't tell me at all. I would've had the guest room clear for you by now, it’s full of stuff even the bed is gross—“ You stopped to catch your breath, a sigh releasing instead whilst looking at him with pleading apologetic eyes. 
“I’m so sorry, Mark. I’ll bring you some covers.” All you mustered was a nervous smile as you scurried off to the guest room for his sheets, leaving the two men alone.
Haechan leaned back on the molding couch, his legs spread enough for a person to sit between, and the perspiration of the bottle seeping through his slacks. The man was gone and tired but even then he tried his best to comfort his best friend. “I’m sorry about her—“ Mark tried cutting him off to no avail. 
“It is my fault I forgot to tell her, I mean you saw how we came home— It’s been rocky so having a normal conversation is so foreign to us now.” Neither expected him to just minimally vent about the marriage but he needed it out. Mark only nodded, uncomfortable and with no advice at hand. 
“But yeah, man— you know y/n loves you, she doesn’t mind you staying at all.” He finally cracked a smile or a laugh during this entire awkward conversation. Mark smiled in return, warm to how much love the two of you had for him.
“Thanks… It’ll be just for a bit, I promise.”
Hyuck shook his head, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. “Don’t worry about it, It’d actually be best if you just stay forever .” 
Mark’s laugh was louder and genuine this time, shaking his head in denial. As of that moment, you had emerged from the guest room.
Your presence alone was draining Hyuck. His laugh faltered and so did his smile, glowering as he sipped on his drink. 
But to Mark it only increased his giddiness, standing up to help you with his blankets and laughing even more when you pulled on your husband’s arm to get him off the larger couch and start arranging the sheets.
He didn’t wait until you finished, Donghyuck just sighed and looked at his surroundings before blurting out that he was heading to bed already in the process of pulling Mark in an embrace again.
You didn’t spare him a glance, smoothing up the cool fabric under your palm. The sound of it louder than the tapping of Haechan’s dress shoes on the cold tile.
Being left with you never felt like a drag, Mark always enjoyed his time with you so this didn’t feel much different when you began to speak. “I imagine you’re drained, huh?” You threw him a glance over your shoulder, shooing his hands away every time he tried to help you.
Mark just nodded, nervously smiling as he pulled his hands back, rubbing it the few times you swatted it. “I-I like the way you decorated the place by the way! Really screams ‘y/n’— it’s nice.” He stuttered, his nose scrunching in embarrassment.
“Thanks…” Your body faced him, words refusing to continue cascading whilst your eyes danced across his features. “It’s really the only thing I got going for myself as of now.” 
He felt his heart shatter the moment your eyes dropped, avoiding his gaze. Mark always knew you to be outspoken and firm on your desires. Before you married his best friend you were an art consultant. Hired by his company to find anything to decorate the dull walls of their building, there Donghyuck found himself drawn to you.
Every Friday he awaited impatiently, his knee bouncing just to see your beautiful smile cross the threshold of the company doors with paintings upon painting you had traveled countries to get just for his boss.
Hyuck always used the excuse that there were too many for you to have multiple trips up and down the elevator so he’d offer to help you carry them to his boss’ office.
You also looked forward to those Fridays. Back then Hyuck was loving and patient, he was playful and did anything to make you smile. Even the first times you rejected his proposals he’d come back with more potential that you ended up becoming his wife.
It’s not that you didn’t want to be with him but because of your job. You spent weeks or even months in different areas of the country or abroad so knowing this relationship would be long distance didn’t help.
By the time you had agreed, the company had terminated their business with you and you had gotten a job in the city to relax from the chaos traveling constantly would bring.
In Mark’s eyes you were always strong willed. When Haechan finally introduced you during one of Mark’s exhibitions, the older male was in awe to know Hyuck had found someone so perfect. 
At the time you matched his energy very well. The both of you were outgoing yet always stood your ground. If anyone, especially your now husband did anything you didn’t like— you’d call him out on it.
Hence Mark always felt like he was walking on eggshells until he learnt that he could do no wrong in your eyes because you saw yourself in him.
The both of you had the fine arts to bond about, he was easy to talk to, and he was always supportive of your hobbies as you were of his. Hell— you even invested in some of his pieces to show you’d be there for him.
Many would side eye the relationship you had with Mark but Hyuck understood how perfect the three of you were and if his best friend would do anything for his girl, then she was the one.
Mark didn’t know how or when it happened but all he knew as of now was that Haechan managed to make you docile in a way. But he also knew he did something to piss you immensely. 
Your coworkers, before he made you quit were lovely but he was convinced many of the men there had other plans for you despite many being in relationships or just nice people.
It didn’t help that his own coworkers were all venomous and envious snakes that fed him ideas. It was quite sad actually, how the people that saw that relationship bloom were the same ones trying to tear it down so here the both of you were, always seconds away from yanking at each other’s hair and clawing at their face.
It was disheartening to say the least. Everything was changing for the worse.
“Have a good night, Mark.” 
Cutting his thoughts off, you squeezed his shoulder, leaving him in the dim lighting of the lamp beside him. 
Not giving him the chance to reply, Mark nodded to himself with a tight lipped smile as he turned the lamp off. 
Loneliness swallowed him again, his eyes adjusting to the darkness but the city lights worked as a nightlight regardless. He wouldn’t admit it but he really needed both you and Hyuck with him in that instant.
His head hit the pillow, eyelids felt heavy, allowing him to drift off to a deep yet short slumber. Mark was tired, yes, but his mind, though in pain, still ran his thoughts through. Destroying any chances of rest. His slumber lasted merely half an hour until the bright fluorescent lights and honking of the city awoke him.
In addition the whispers emitting from the main room gripped his hearing forcefully, not letting him go until he heard every vile thing you and Hyuck told each other.
“I didn’t mean to sound rude—“
“Yeah, well you could’ve tried to sound better.” 
He heard the shuffling of bed sheets.
“You never told me he was staying, I could’ve cleared out the other room. Poor guy has to sleep on the stiff couch. I mean why the fuck do you need an extra room for? Your desk is in the living room and you don’t even use it.”
Exasperation was laced in your voice, he didn’t know how to entirely feel but that guilt of intruding your livelihood was horrible.
“Those postcards are collectibles, y/n. For all you know they could be worth more than this apartment in the future.”
Mark imagined you rolled your eyes before speaking. “They’re worth ten cents right now, how could they possibly be worth anything any time soon?” 
A pout emerged on his lips. He wondered if that’s what people thought about his work right now but you were once the art consultant so who else is better to know the worth of something? 
“Fuck, fine! Clean out the room but throw away some of your stuff you don’t need too.”
“Like what?”
He heard defiance.
“I don’t know, why don’t you start with all the paint you have? You don’t ever work on anything anymore, all you did was waste money on that stuff.”
Hyuck shifted in his spot, turning to your body now. “You haven’t finished that little ug— little painting you were working on.” He swallowed his remaining words.
You simply scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “That little ugly painting you were gonna say?”
“No.” He answered untruthfully. 
“Right— I’m just going to go clean the room now.” 
You tried getting off the bed before feeling his grasp on your wrist, almost begging you for forgiveness but also with the grip of an angry possessive man.
“You’re going to wake him up.” He didn’t apologize, that only cemented your determination even more.
Yanking your wrist from his grasp without first feeling that burn, you scooted towards the edge putting your slippers on before walking towards the entrance, Donghyuck watching your every move.
Managing to open the door as quietly as you could, with a leg out already, you turned to your lover. “It’s a realistic portrait of you, just so you know.” He ignores your words but you can still notice his distaste in the way his eyes gloss over. That was enough of a reaction for you.
Finally shutting the door behind you, you lower your head slightly, tired of this constant cycle. You would’ve walked towards the spare room but in the instant you lifted your head you noticed the subtle rustling of Mark’s spiked hair scurrying to hide from your sight.
Tip-toeing towards the back of the couch, you lean over seeing his back turned to the cushions. Smiling to yourself as his lids twitched showing how bad of a liar he was; you giggled softly.
“I know you’re not asleep, nosey.” Your hand reached for his cheek, squeezing it softly. Mark couldn’t contain it anymore, he just smiled as his eyes fluttered open while apologizing.
“It’s cool, nothin’ new.” Climbing over the back of the couch, Mark made space for you to lay beside. “Did you, uh… Did you hear anything?” 
Settled by the edge of the couch, Mark wraps one of his arms around your shoulders hoping that’s enough to not make you fall.
“Not really.” His smile didn’t falter, not even when you gave him a stoic nod knowing he’s lying. 
“Can’t sleep?” 
“Lights are too bright.” 
They were hitting your face as you laid beside him. Silence settled between the both of you until you got closer to him. Laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso.
You didn’t really give him time to process what had gone on since you began talking, only giving him the option of holding you as well. “You know I don’t mind that you’ll stay here, right? I love it when you come around.” 
“I hope so.” He replied
You granted him laughter, “Stop, you know I do! You’ve always been so fun, Mark. Are you going to give me company these days?” 
‘You’re so fun, Mark.’ The words echoed in his mind as he tried to process what to say.
“Of course. While I look for a place and an actual job as my father would say.” Though Mark tried to play it off, it was obvious he was insanely hurt.
“Do you still paint?” You deflected, he nods and asks: “Do you?” You respond with a shake of your head and a tender smile.
“We should do something tomorrow then. Rest for tonight, alright?” He nods letting you know you should too, shifting in hopes to find an angle the city lights wouldn’t bother him.
All you managed to do was close the blinds and curtains once you stood, hoping that was enough for now. For now it seemed like it was, smiling as you walked over to him one last time. Crouching down to his level, Mark smiled seeing your face one last time tonight.
Before he could scold you to get some rest, he felt your lips on his cheek whispering a sweet ‘goodnight’ once again.
Mark couldn’t form any words, he was utterly shocked and slightly confused but it was also past 2AM and you were probably just tired and slightly tipsy so he tried to ignore it— it was an innocent remark, just that…
As the weeks progressed it seemed Mark could slightly see why you had kissed him goodnight that first day. 
The longer he stayed with you and Donghyuck he noticed how lonely you were. Hyuck spent most of his days in the office and when he arrived home it was already late so all he could do was shower and head straight to bed.
He’d greet Mark normally but when it came to you he could barely even look your way. If he came back tipsy after a meeting then he would kiss you as a greeting but other than that it was as if a corpse was walking amongst you.
On his days off, Hyuck would lounge on the couch while watching TV expecting you to cater to him but when it was obvious you’d continue to ignore his existence, he’d dress up and head back to the office.
Mark hated to admit it but he preferred when Haechan wasn’t home. It was a living hell when he was. You were always so lively when it was just you and him. If Hyuck came around your entire mood faltered and it was a struggle to bring it back.
He was glad that he had managed to get you to paint again. In this time together, Mark had helped you with detailing and different techniques. You had also found that oil pastel was a new medium you preferred. 
Mark could now see why having a roommate or a lover was sought out so much. You and him would spend your days at the downtown markets fishing for fresh produce for home made meals you two would plan or just simply finding an excuse to escape the confinement that apartment was for you.
Mark had also learnt how to better his cooking from you and how to properly take care of plants. That is because the both of you decided to buy one and help it grow— together . To be quite honest you always thought of plants as such a huge responsibility, you simply didn’t want to do it alone.
It was going great, at least for you two. The more time he spent there the less you cared about what Hyuck was doing without you. The less you cared about Donghyuck. 
But for now, those thoughts needed to disappear and you two had to think about him regardless. 
Despite the horrid summer heat in September, Mark put himself in the kitchen monitoring the stew as you got dressed up for tonight's event. Whining to himself about how hot it was getting in the kitchen. But this was you– and his best friend of course– so he didn’t want to complain.
“Do you want me to turn off the stove? I think it’s starting to dry up.” Mark called out, watching the red bubbles flow from one side to another, avoiding the pieces of pork and vegetables before they’d burst.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, hey— how does it look?” Mark turned with the sound of your voice, his eyes taking a while to process how beautiful you looked before him. To say he was speechless was an understatement. It felt as if the air in his entire body had been knocked out and his voice was robbed.
“Is it too much?” You asked nervously at his silence. Trying to aid that, he shook his head with a smile on his face, taking one of your hands into his to twirl you around. Though as innocent as it was, Mark couldn’t help his wandering eyes, admiring the beauty you always have been. 
He loved how the purple dress hugged your body and he loved how the lacing of your heels wrapped around your smoothen calves. They matched the nylor top coat of the dress, beaded flowers on both items.
He loved how your collarbones looked, shimmers from glittered lotion helping them. The straps tied around your neck making it a halter dress, and he loved how happy you looked.
Mark wasn’t fully sure what this brewing feeling was but he knew it wasn’t good. 
Hyuck wasn’t someone Mark ever found himself being jealous of, he was his best friend after all. Mark had only loved and supported his best friend but right now it was killing him. The feeling wasn’t strong enough but he knew it could grow quickly.
It was killing him to realize he and you have spent all day preparing for tonight. Cooking Hyuck’s favorite meal and dessert, cleaning every nook and cranny of the apartment, and even buying postcards for his collection despite how you felt about it.
Even when Donghyuck has been nothing but a dipshit to you this entire time Mark’s stayed with you two; you went out of your way to make this anniversary a good one.
To be exact, Mark was jealous of Hyuck for having someone who loved him despite all he’s put you through.
“You look ravishing.” Mark let out in a breath, your concern turning into a grand smile and thanking him with a hug. 
Turing to grab the pot of stew, Mark placed it on the decorated dinner table as you followed with glasses and wine. 
“Okay, got everything?” He questioned one last time after wiping his hands on his jeans, making his way to the entrance door.
Looking around, you nodded as a response. Turning to the clock on the microwave, Mark grabbed his jacket, getting the clue. “Alright then, he should be here soon so just page me whenever it’s fine to come back.” 
Mark smiled your way, almost as if he was excited for you when he knew he wasn’t. 
Just as he was to turn and leave, a thought crossed his mind. “By the way— has he said anything?” His eyebrows furrowed and some doubt was visible but you just shrugged with an awkward smile.
“No… but he always acts like he forgets when we have anything big coming up.” You laugh to ease those nerves he’s created. 
“Plus, I saw a box a while ago in one of his desk drawers and I think it’s a bracelet.” You tried to defend Hyuck, even when you nervously played with the flowers on the table. Even though you were trying to act giddy, Mark couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for these feelings he’s created. 
“Alright… have fun then!” Mark walked to you quickly, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek that you received with a smile before returning it. You felt your arms tingle with the warmth of his skin, lightheaded when he removed himself from you.
The second Mark closed the door behind him, you sat with that anxious pit in your stomach waiting for your husband to arrive. You didn’t know if it was for what he had created when it came to Hyuck or for his touch– nevertheless it’s September 7th: Your anniversary. That’s all that should matter now.
You knew Hyuck arrived home late so you didn’t put it past him to do so on your wedding anniversary but the more the clock ticked and the needles cycled around with no sign of him, you felt vile begin to form in your throat. 
It was coming around to be 10pm, then 11pm, and before you knew it 2am had rolled around and all that was left was the uncovered pot of stew covered by a layer of grease, wilted flowers crumbling down, and napkins full of smeared makeup and snot.
You were trying your best to not think about it much. You didn’t want to think about how foolish you were to think that despite how much you and Hyuck weren’t on the best terms as of the past months, that that love you once shared would triumph at least on your anniversary. 
It was clear enough to you that he didn’t care anymore. So picking up yourself and your pride you made your way towards the restroom, wiping away the remains of your makeup and preparing for bed before paging Mark to come home. 
He didn’t think twice about it when he felt the vibration against his hip, it was until he saw you sadly pour the stew into containers that he felt his heart drop to his stomach.
There was no sign of Donghyuck anywhere in the apartment and it made his blood boil. All he could do was walk your way, taking the pot and washing it while you put the container away in the fridge. 
“So… wanna go on a bike ride tomorrow? We can get lunch, and then we can head to a music shop. I know you’ve been meaning to buy a CD player. Oh a picnic sounds perfect.” He knew it would do no good talking about his best friend and it was just best to ignore the subject.
You had been trying so hard to not cry this entire time that Mark offered to spend time with you but it made that barrier break and the waterworks to cascade. Mark felt guilty, as if he had said something wrong and he didn’t know what to do besides take you into and embrace and whisper apologies against your hair that he caressed as your back.
“Y/n, please. I’m so sorry if I sa—“
“No, it’s not— just— why can’t he be like you?” 
Mark felt his heart ache and it got worse the more you cried against his chest, your arms tightening around his waist. He could smell the sweet scent of wine mixed into the one of your minty toothpaste. He could only assume that you had gotten drunk from despair.
“It’s okay… why don’t you go to sleep? We have a big day tomorrow, I'll finish cleaning up.” You didn’t have it in you to deny him, you were too tired and distraught from this little stunt Haechan pulled on you that you just wanted to lay down at least. 
Simply nodding, you gave him a last tight squeeze before letting him go, looking up at him with a thankful smile. Perhaps it was the alcohol but the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed how much more you adored Mark. That same tingle he created earlier was presenting itself in an excruciating way.
He was the sweetest boy you’ve known, he treats you so well and expects nothing in return, and he’s always been supportive of you.
Temptation was always lurking and his rosey lips looked enticing more and more but it seems he caught onto your thoughts that he swallowed the lump in his throat. Clearing his throat, Mark smiles at you whispering a tender ‘goodnight’ that you repeated kissing his forehead before walking straight to the bedroom.
Mark felt frightened while you stared at him. Truth be told if you had kissed him, he would’ve let you and even kissed you back but right now he couldn’t. At least not when you’re so vulnerable, tipsy, and also his best friend’s wife.
Fuck… his best friend’s wife. 
The second that door closed behind you, Mark let out a hampered breath, scolding himself for ever thinking about you in that aspect. They were only worsening as the days passed by.
Running his hand over his face and throwing his head back, Mark headed back to the kitchen. Though temporarily, washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen had aided him in forgetting those rising feelings. But like always they’d creep up once he was able to think freely again.
He tried to sleep that guilt away, tossing and turning hoping with every move it would shake out of his bones and leave through the open window but nothing worked. Frustrated with how easily the idea of kissing you had disturbed him, Mark grunted on his way up to the window. Taking a hold of his cigarette box that laid on the kitchen counter.
It was already 4am nearing five when he had finished cleaning for you but even so Hyuck hadn’t arrived until now when Mark leaned against the windowsill with the stick between his lips. 
Lighting it, he shakes his head with a breathy laugh that makes smoke blow out of his lips. “Unbelievable.” He tells himself, eyes following the drunken moves of his friend and laughter from the men inside the car. 
He counted the minutes and seconds until Donghyuck was to arrive at the apartment, his loud steps not missed. 
“55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60… 1, 2—‘ 
The glowing red within the cigarette consuming more and more of the paper and herb, warming up where he held it, a clear sign that he should get a new one. Exactly when the warmth of the butt was becoming unbearable, Mark threw it out to the street hearing the doorknob rattle upon Haechan opening the door.
In his giddy drunken state, the young man smiled seeing his best friend, rushing to him to embrace him as he loudly greeted him. 
“What are you still doing awake? Wanna have a drink?” He asks in between laughs, rushing to the fridge and grabbing two bottles, easily opening them with just the back of a knife. Mark took it without a thank you, lighting up another cigarette with so much disgust in his face the longer he looked at the state of his best friend.
Lips swollen and red, glitter littered all over his body and sticking to the sweat of his neck that was stained with rouge and purple kisses. He reeked of expensive cigarettes and alcohol and his slacks had stains that could only make him gag from just imagining.
Mark simply shook his head, scoffing at the antics of his friend. His guilt was gone seeing how much worse Hyuck could be than him. Taking a swig of the beer, Mark glared at his friend. “What is wrong with you? It’s so fucking late.” He viciously asked, inhaling smoke from his new cigarette.
Hyuck laughed, taking one from Mark’s box and lighting it to join his friend. “Okay, mom.” He replied, feeling as if he was just jesting but when Mark’s expression didn’t change he was becoming visibly frustrated. After all, what did Mark care about? He was just staying with them.
“Not for me but for y/n. She’s been waiting all day for you. You’ve really fucked her over, Donghyuck.” 
Mark doesn't call him Donghyuck— ever. Only times he’s done so is when he’s angered him badly and right now he couldn’t understand why he cared so much about you and him. Putting down his bottle and turning to his friend, Hyuck’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth felt slightly agape. “What does it matter to you? It’s just another day.” His voice, gruff and deep now.
The smoke Haechan blew out made its way to Mark’s face, creating a more hostile night for the two. He wasn’t going to back down. In all his years he’s never seen you cry and he wasn’t going to let that slide. 
Mark mirrored Hyuck’s dissatisfied expression, coming closer to his friend in defiance. “You smell like shit with signs of another bitch all over you on your anniversary, dipshit. Is it still just another day?” 
And it crashed down upon him when Mark’s finger crushed itself against his chest, poking him as a wakeup call from the drunken daze he was in. Feeling as if a bucket of water had been dropped on him, Hyuck’s eyes widened in horror, fingers threading with his hair and yanking at it with anger like the day Mark had arrived.
“Fuck—“ He took a seat, putting off his cigarette on the ashtray. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have a present either, what the fuck am I gonna do?” 
Fear was all over his face, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep, rocky night, and the frustration from how you’d treat him for the following weeks or even months until you forgot it.
Mark didn’t care, he only focused on his statement about the gift. Angered, he finished off the second cigarette before glaring at his friend more. “She found a bracelet in your drawers, what do you mean you don’t have a gift?” 
Hyuck had never seen Mark this angry before but for now he would focus on his own problems. “Who is it for? Are you fucking with me? Are you cheating on her? I love you, you're a brother to me but I will beat your ass if you fuck her over, Hyuck— promise to God I will.”
It was an eratic moment to spew such words that Hyuck’s expressions smoothened and his fright dissipated. All that was left was a twinge of curiosity the more his eyes squinted. 
‘Interesting.’ He thought, the gears in his brain hating this new feeling just as Mark was hating his own new feelings as well.
“It’s for my mother’s birthday… but I guess I’ll give it to her now.” He collectively spoke, his words coming out slowly still processing Mark’s attitude. Mark didn’t seem to pick up on Hyuck’s peaking interest, shaking his head with obvious discontent. 
“No, you have to get something meaningful. Something special, I mean she got you something you wanted, she spent all day preparing for you. You can’t just do something like that, Hyuck.” 
“Fine, I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow and how about you get the present?” He hoped that was good enough to get Mark off his back or at least to get his help. After all, he is his best friend.
Mark sat in complete disgust and anger. “You didn’t hear shit I just said, did you?” An angered smirk as he scoffed before finishing his beer. Hyuck grunted in frustration, his eyes screaming: ‘What more do you want from me?’ The wider they got. “Dude, I don’t have time, you know this.”
But it was useless, Mark just glared at him one last time before nodding. “Fine.” He grumbled in disapproval. “Alright, thank you.” Hyuck added with his own annoyance laced into it. Fishing for his wallet, he handed Mark one of his credit cards before silently walking to the room ending the night for both of them.
Lonely and angry.
Thankfully enough when waking, you were the ray of sunshine that made his day better. Driving almost an hour to the countryside, Mark and you spent it entirely on rented bikes.
Going to the nearest park the two of you had a picnic at, mainly focusing on how to sweeten each other’s mood and avoid thinking about last night. Though Mark drowned out the fears he had just last night, you felt them flourishing within you.
You liked that he was gentle with you and treated you nicely. If you ever argued with Mark it was over the taste of something and not about how useless he thought your likings were.
He cooked and cleaned if you weren’t in the mood. If you were he’d help, he just made sure to not let all the burden fall on you. 
You liked Mark. You always had but right now the lines between platonic and loneliness were blurring. Enough that this day felt like a date and not just friends hanging out.
It didn’t matter though, at least you were glad there was someone out there to listen to you. Just as he did now the longer you talked while walking inside a small shop of antiques.
Finishing the drink you held in your hand, Mark held the door open for you. Words cascading from your lips as he admired every single one of them. Even when he took your cup to throw away before roaming around, his eyes didn’t leave your face.
The only time he was able to remove his gaze from you was the moment he heard your excited squeal while rushing towards the jewelry section and gawking at a seemingly golden locket.
The smooth metal etched with intricate vines filled with flowers, glimmering in the sunlight that shot through the vast windows behind the counter. Mark admired the shine in your eyes. How they glossed over and sparkled in adoration, almost as if this was the last thing you’d want before you died. 
He supposed you could feel his intense staring that you turned to smile at him before clutching his arm, feeling you shake a bit. “It seems silly but my mom gave me one exactly like this one when I was a little kid and I always wore it,” 
You shifted your leg. “But when I moved in with Hyuck it went missing. I guess you could’ve called it a warning.” You laughed trying to ease the underlying message as you continued. “Ever since I lost it things haven’t gone well, perhaps it was my lucky charm; and it’s been so difficult finding a new one that makes me feel the same as the one she gave me but it hasn’t worked out.” 
Feeling your head lay on his shoulder as you stared at the piece without touching it, Mark looked down upon you. That odd feeling manifesting itself once again and tearing at his intestines. 
“How much is it?” He questioned, feeling you shake a bit more. “Uh—“ You separate yourself from him, the trembling from your legs increasing and your breathing hitching in the back of your throat. 
Whether it was because you had to go to the restroom or solely for the price alone. “Damn… Hyuck would kill me if I spent that much on a simple necklace.” You stated, before fully separating yourself from him and whining that you had to go to the restroom before he tried to oppose his friend’s view on spending.
Hyuck couldn’t be this frivolous, right? Well, Mark couldn’t really judge how other people spent their money, after all his reckless way of living is what has him crashing at his best friend’s place.
But this is you and Donghyuck he was talking about. Sure he wouldn’t care that his wife spent money on something so meaningful and after his arrival last night it was evident he spent his own money grossly.
Nevertheless Haechan told him to buy you a gift you’d appreciate and this was the perfect one. Whether it was too much or not, he was never given a budget and Hyuck would have to deal with it on his own.
So while you remained in the restroom, Mark rushed to the register, pleading with the cashier to quickly wrap it for a gift. While she tried her best to make it look presentable, his desperate staring was making her nervous to where she fumbled with the chain and the box.
If it wasn’t because there was a timer on how quickly you’d come out he would’ve been slightly upset at how messy it was but now that he could hear the creaking of the door far in the back inside this silent shop, he couldn’t care less how badly the presentation was. After all, he'll fix it while you get ready for tonight’s date with your husband .
The closer the tapping of your shoes got, the bigger the rush he gained while swiping the card and signing the receipts, hoping the cashier would hurry up on her end as well. Poor girl.
And when he could see your silhouette from his peripheral view whilst you looked around the rest of the knick-knacks, he shoved the box and receipt into the inner pocket of his jacket, unintentionally glaring at the girl despite thinking his gaze was apologetic.
“Ready to go?” He questioned, patting his chest hoping the imprint wasn’t visible. “Yeah…” You dragged out, a pout on your lips as your gaze turned to the display the necklace was on. At its disappearance, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout deepened. 
“What?” He questioned, holding out his arm for you to grab again. “And the locket?” You ask, he was about to answer when the cashier interrupted the both of you. 
“Someone had bought it before you came, they’ll be here shortly to pick it up so I just packed it. I’m so sorry if you were interested in it.” Her tender smile made your pout soften, telling her it was fine as you dragged Mark out dejectedly.
Despite knowing he had gotten it for you, Mark couldn’t let that disappointment you held go. Hopefully as of now when Hyuck was to give you the locket, that you’d feel better and forgive your husband even when he most likely didn’t deserve it.
When Hyuck had arrived and told you about his plans, it didn’t change the tense ambient that had been created upon his arrival. Though you reluctantly got ready while Hyuck moped about your mood, he was praying to all entities that you’d both let it go once the date was over. Even if deeply and unconsciously he felt put off by the both of you together— a twinge of jealousy. 
The restaurant was cold and dim, dull. Though he tried making conversation and you tried to answer, that deep built up of anger was clogging your throat, choking you with its fiery vexation.
Hyuck was beginning to feel his own frustrations bubbling up the colder you became towards him. He was trying his best to make this an enjoyable night but when you’ve spent your entire days fighting— things like these become a heavy task.
When nothing else worked, Hyuck reached for the inside of his suit jacket, pulling the box Mark had handed him rushedly whilst he pushed the both of you out of the apartment in hopes the air would finally clear.
“Y/n.” He called out for you, your fork resting on the plate as you averted your gaze towards him, humming in response. His free hand reached for yours, clutching it tightly as a plea to please forgive him for all his wrong doings (As if a measly dinner could fix all his invective words).
“I know I fucked up royally last night,” Your eyebrow quirked in sarcasm. “But I’m truly sorry for ruining our day for work. I’m sorry I prioritized it over our marriage and perhaps it’s the reason we haven’t been doing so well these past couple of months along with other reasons…”
He sighed, his fingers intertwining with yours as his glossy eyes trembled trying to look into your cold muted ones. “And I know this dinner doesn’t amount to anything you deserve, so at least take this…” His hand left yours, that coldness from before remaining. 
“To show I love you so much more than I can love anyone or anything.” Upon opening the box, your face lit up and you sat up straight. Your eyes are no longer cold, instead they are excited and warm.
You felt the need to cry, to weep and forgive him as it seemed he did know all along about your locket. That is until you opened your mouth. “So it was you?! You bought it from that shop?” You excitedly questioned as he stood to put it on you.
Kissing your cheek, glad you finally caved in. Standing behind you to put it on not caring if people were to see, his cold fingers graced your equally cold skin, making him slightly shiver. 
“Uh, yeah. It’s really simple, nothing too special. Would’ve gotten you something prettier but I know you like things like this, found it down the street from the apartment but I thought it’d look beautiful on you.” He cleared his voice before allowing his lips to fall upon yours.
Perhaps this kiss would have meant more to you but hearing him lie about where ‘he’ had bought it was making your guts churn in pain. He truly will never stop lying to you, huh?
In the matter of seconds as he sat down and looked back at you, Hyuck couldn’t help but notice your eyes dimming again. “I see.” You’d mildly continued, giving him a small smile and dropping it. 
Easy as that, a smile was enough for him to feel like he had gotten you back. Taking your hand into another grasp as he chose a dessert for you both; your returning scowl went unnoticed.
You loved Hyuck. You think you do, he is the man you married but why does he continue disappointing you so much? At what point in a relationship do the things the other person does become insufferable? 
At what point do you look forward to not spending time with them and instead find comfort in someone else? It seems that you have reached this point. 
Morally, it was consuming you. You were supposed to be the perfect housewife that keeps the home clean and given him a child by this point but all you were was a wreck longing for her old independent life while thinking about spending time with her husband’s best friend.
 What he did to lead to what you two were now was not helping this case anymore.
After Hyuck had given himself away that he hadn’t bought the locket for you, the only person you could think about was Mark. There’s no way someone else could’ve bought it before you two just for it to end in your hands. 
The inscriptive inside of the box with the shop logo was also a dead giveaway of where it was bought, something Hyuck should’ve looked at if he had fabricated his lie well. Or perhaps Mark had set him up for failure and just told him to give it to you.
A part of you wants that latter to be true, for Mark to wedge himself into the relationship to create some excitement but you knew it wouldn’t happen. Not only because he was Donghyuck’s best friend, your own close friend, and because he just isn’t that type of person . 
In conclusion Mark was the only one who could’ve obtained it for you and had managed to get the cashier to lie for him. Mark is the only one who knows the meaning of your fixation on that locket. Only he would buy something that has a meaning for you to obtain. 
All you were worried about was how he paid for it when he was in a crisis as of now and hoped Hyuck had paid him back as he was the one to give it to you after all. 
And as the quiet car ride back to the apartment fell silent besides the hushed radio playing in the background, Hyuck walked in celebrating as if anything had truly changed. 
“Wine or beer, baby?” He questioned, his hand on the fridge handle looking at the inventory. Your mind elsewhere, eyes wandering and looking for signs of Mark. 
To no avail, you turned to your husband, grabbing the bottle of beer in his hand. Hyuck kissed your cheek for the second time this night, following it with a peck to your lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist.
“Is he here?” He questioned, reading your mind. You only shook your head, looking into his eyes wondering if his question was out of realizing your reasons or for his own. With your response, he smirked, his face moving closer to you. His pillowy lips found yours, taking them into a kiss full of yearning. 
His hand creeped across your torso, dangerously inching up to your breast, feeling him squeeze through the fabric of your dress. It’s been a while since he’s touched you, mainly due to how often you’d both go to sleep angry at each other but right now was the chance. 
Even if you were tired of his ways, you’d still let him. The feeling of lust taking over you but slowly the thought of Mark tried pushing through your brain. 
Hyuck’s cold fingers found themselves under the fabric, grasping the mound and giving it a slight squeeze. Your lips continued enveloping against each other, him smirking when your breathy moan spilled against his. 
He chuckled looking at your state, flushed at the steaminess of the situation, his other hand bunching up your dress enough to where he could slip his hand in between your legs easily. 
“Hyuck…” you moaned, resting your forehead on his chest, the grumble from his extended chuckle making you shake. “Yeah?” He asks, his delicate fingers gracing over the warm fabric of your panties that slowly moistened the more he touched you. 
You tried talking but felt your voice tremble with every syllable, barely pushing out the name that’s been manifesting itself all this time. “M-Mark—“ 
The moment his friend’s name came out as a moan to his ears, Hyuck stopped his assault, standing up frustratedly. “What did you say?” He questioned with darkened eyes, scared and angry that you could possibly do that to him (despite what he’s done to you.)
Despite how much you both fight each other, you both were good at reading each other’s body languages. His hostile figure made you act fast and pushed his hand back in between your legs as he reluctantly began to touch you just out of suspicion. 
“I just meant that he might not be far…” you gasp, leaning closer to kiss him softly compared to the teasing, teeth-clashing ones from earlier. “So maybe, fuck—“ the pressure on your clit increasing, softly circling it. 
“Maybe— hurry.” You bit your lip, his anger dissipating and that shit eating grin returning the second he opted to slip his hand inside the purple fabric of your panties, the wetness making it stick to the upside of his hand. 
Hyuck chuckled at the scene before him, it had been so long since you two had been intimate and seeing how you melted onto his touch was doing things to him. Your whimpers and moans fueling his hurt ego and the further his fingers teased your entrance, thumb rubbing at your clit— it grew more and more. 
“Oh? Have you been holding it the entire night? I can feel it sliding down my hand. Maybe I should get a taste?” He teased, his fingers threatening to leave your slickness and reach his lips when your speedy hands prevented any movement that wasn’t caresses to your needy cunt. 
He chuckled loudly, leaning down to bite your swollen lower lip before kissing you softly. “Hyuckie, stop being such a tease!” You dragged out, becoming more forceful with the kiss. His tongue swiped against yours, the warm satin feel mirroring the wetness between your legs onto his digits. 
“You haven’t called me that in a while… Ah my princess does need me!” Ecstatically his word embedded into your lips, rewarding you with a second finger that at most was just as cruelly teasing as the one before. 
You whined even more hoping he’d find it in his heart to plunge his fingers deep into your crevice but knowing him and how insanely cruel he can be, the hope dwindled the more he teased your entrance with just the tips and pulling them back out to hear your glorious cries. He wanted to cave into you. He wanted to please you as he had in the past but this seemed to be the only efficient way he could actually make you pay for the way you’ve treated him for these past months. 
Yet despite his vexatious actions to further embitter you and start his own sort of revenge, he couldn’t do it. Deep in his heart he knew he still loved you like he used to. He simply had to give in to you, as much as it pained him how easily he submits to you. 
Determined enough with the melting of his hateful heart, Hyuck leaned in to kiss you and ease that pent up frustration. “I love you so much, y/n.” He whispered against them, your whimpers swallowing the words you couldn’t process or at least refused to believe were true. 
But glory blessed you as his fingers began to prod at your labia and soon found your opening. Your moans were too loud, those demonstrating how long he’s left you to fend on your own that the simplest of touch could lead you to where you’re at. 
He shushed you calmly, smiling against your mouth while you gnawed on his lips, your hands reaching for his aching erection. With the swift touch of your delicate fingers over the textile, Haechan whined, his fingers prodding deeper into your cavern. He didn’t move them yet, a third finger taunting you as you rushed to unbuckle his belt used as a reward to grant you more satisfaction. 
“You’re close, honey. Almost there.” He cooed with a needy and proud smile, his free hand petting your hair to incentivize you to continue as a great reward would soon come. His third finger taunting your opening while his thumb circled your clit to create more arousal. 
When your nimble fingers had finally gotten rid of the worn leather, you pulled at it, throwing it across the kitchen to the living room without a care where it fell. Hyuck granted you with an excited laugh, pulling you in for a kiss as he slowly pushed in his third finger, the tip of it softly gracing through. 
“Good girl! My God you’re too good for me! ” He spoke in between kisses, your tongue asking for more, caressing his lower lip. Hyuck admired the fucked out state you were in. Your eyes hooded and dark with need, your lipstick smudge from all these kisses, and your arousal seeped from around his fingers dribbling down your legs as tears would on your cheeks. 
You were so needy, anything and any movement could make you release now and though you’ve masturbated throughout this dry spell you both put yourselves through— nothing could amount to how good he makes you feel even if it’s just with fingers. So of course you were needy, of course you wanted his fingers stuffed inside you and you wanted him to finally move them inside you.
That would’ve happened, if it wasn’t for Mark. 
Hyuck whispered against your lips how he’d start moving his fingers now. His pillowy lips molding against yours, pulling you by your hair closer to his starving mouth; his fingers began to slowly move and as you were beginning to feel the pleasure your husband always granted you— the front door creaked open, too fast that all you two could muster was for Hyuck to remove his fingers from inside you in a hurry as he refused to let go of your lips. 
The kiss didn’t last long, for odd reasons it was you who didn’t want Mark to see more of the scene. His subtle lingering gaze on your organism made you feel small under him, as if he was exhibiting some sort of disappointment or ache. His despondent expression left immediately to one of a playful smile, almost giving you whiplash from it. 
“Good night I’m guessing.” He joked, removing his jacket and putting away the box of cigarettes in his hand. “Yeah, I guess so.” Hyuck laughed, turning his back to both of you. You didn’t stop looking at Mark, hoping he’d react to what he just saw even if you knew what you wanted him to react with. He didn’t though, he just gave you a nod to acknowledge your presence. 
Your husband continued to make conversation with his friend, the one trying to avoid you for his own reasons. It was odd to say the least, on both of your parts. It was odd that minutes prior you were too enthralled with the man you’re married to but right now all you want was for Mark to say something to you, you almost wanted to apologize to him for having him walk into that scene.
You didn’t want to say it or think it— as the months pass by you’ll realize it felt like you were betraying him instead and not your husband. 
Mark knew what you wanted though but he would pretend it was all in his head as he is still trying to process the discovery he’s made: he’s falling for his best friend’s wife. 
So for the time being he’ll do his best to keep this relationship as it has been for the past years. Simple and platonic. 
“But yeah, I think the meal was good. Y/n? What did you think?” Hyuck’s voice broke you out of the void, turning to him and then Mark. “I liked it, yeah.” Simply put. Hyuck deviated the conversation, opening the fridge to pull a drink for both you and him, asking Mark if he’d like one but in order to avoid you given it was harder for him to ignore your silent cry for a pick of attention— he opted to choose the going to sleep technique to leave the setting. 
Mark shook his head, opening the door to the guest room to throw in his jacket. A tender tiresome smile, “Nah, it’s cool. I’m going to sleep, you guys continue to enjoy your night.”  Hyuck simply shrugged, turning to the cabinets to pick out some snacks. In the moment he had done so, you rushed towards Mark, grasping his arm to stop him from fully entering the room. 
He froze at the contact, feeling the area become warmer than his remaining body. Mark’s shocked face gave him away, he wasn’t meant for this type of situation. “I just—“ you turned quickly to look at Hyuck, the man still distracted with the boxes of popcorn. 
“I just want to thank you.” Your remaining hand showing him the locket, a smile forming on his lips, one you mimicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A shit eating grin while blush krept upon his beautiful chiseled cheeks, making your chest burn up at how you enjoyed that look on him. “Right… It means quite a lot actually— again, thank you, Mark. You truly do know your way to a girl's heart.” 
You whispered the words, pulling him closer towards you and kissing his cheek as he grasped your hip in fear of any more proximity. It was quick but it felt eternal for you both, the fire in both of you making it difficult for him to go inside the room. 
And though you both felt a beautiful yet painful fire, Hyuck from the corner of his eye saw such action, his own fire scorching with a new found feeling he was not liking. 
“Hm…” he hummed quietly to himself, a pout ensuing on his lips, pretending it was nothing. I mean, he was his best friend and you were his wife— That’s. All. There. Is. 
To avoid like the rest of you were, Hyuck feigned a smile, pulling you towards his arms the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen. You reciprocated the action, going further enough to kiss him. It was good enough to feel like the kiss you’ve given to his friend's cheek was nothing— that’s all he needed. 
“What do you say we continue what we started in the room, huh?” He raised his eyebrow cheekily, a giggle leaving your lips to decline the offer. Whining as to why, your husband pouted at how you only continued to giggle, your arms wrapped tightly around his slim waist. 
“Y/n-ie, come one~ why not?” he cried, kissing your lips softly before your neck. His plump lips encased your throat, his tongue lapping at the warm flesh that was making you reconsider your answer but the memory of him was making you stand your ground. 
Kissing him one last time and holding his face in between your hands to make him focus on your words; “Mark is still awake, Hyuck. We can’t fuck with him fully aware, walls arent very thick.” You reasoned, kissing him once again. 
You failed to notice his pout turn displeased, his expression overall seeming stoic now, aggravated. The film of love over your eyes blinding you from his change in demeanor; making your way towards the couch and inviting him to it just to keep up the facade of a normal marriage. 
“Come on now or I’ll pick the movie.” You threatened, picking up the remote to the TV. Hyuck shot you a tender smile, one faltering as quickly as it appeared. “Go get comfortable first, I’ll prepare here.” His voice dropping, some defeat laced on it.
You smiled at him lovingly, oblivious to the way he stared at you and the rays of hurt exuding off of him. Closing the door behind you to get ready, Hyuck leaned forward, his head falling to his hands as he clutched it hoping all those thoughts would leave his head. 
Mark is his best friend and you’re his wife. You and Mark are just friends— that’s all it is. But even if he tried to fool himself, this marriage was too fragile for him to not fully worry as he always has. History can repeat itself one way or another.
One ought to think that after that night in which you and Haechan had put aside any hatred for each other, that it would remain and the fighting would subside but that night only made things worse.
Whether it was the lingering sexual tension neither of you were to relieve that night and the ones to follow or simply how you two couldn’t put away the resentment that has grown but things were bleak nonethless. 
Some part of Hyuck blamed you, he didn’t know when he began feeling hate towards you instead of pity and self hatred. And the other part blamed Mark. In countless arguments you always threaten him by mentioning the possibility of storming out of the room and spending the night with his best friend as he’s the only one who doesn’t irritate you. 
As any partner would do, Hyuck grunted in frustration, picking up his pillow and slamming the door behind him as he took his spot next to Mark in the guest bed. Both men awkwardly and uncomfortable on the bed trying to avoid bringing you into the conversation. 
For one because your name and presence made Hyuck enraged and for Mark he could only feel guilt bubble inside him while thoughts of you clouded his mind. 
Mark and you had always gotten along. You both shared a love for the arts and that only made you both closer these months. When it didn’t pertain to art, you two always teamed up to bother Haechan as a taste of his own medicine for ever bothering either of you. 
Times used to be good, dinners and parties were fun but the more he indulged in his work and tried to climb whatever hierarchy ladder there was, he became such a— such a dick. The actions he took upon when you were on a work trip didn’t help either.
You should’ve taken in all the signs from whenever you met the wives of his coworkers. Their sunken faces and dead eyes staring at you with pity when he first brought you around. 
Their ‘awe’s’ and ‘oh’s’ when you shared how lovely Hyuck was to you and how you two met. His persistent love for you that’s led you to where you two were at the time. Their pity should’ve been obvious, at first it was jealousy but no one knew the truth of having men in this field like they do. 
So now they look at you like you were finally one of them. Your miserable and tired gaze with every single one of these dinners. How annoyed you became every time Donghyuck opened his mouth to let out a joke or just speak. You had to catch yourself from rolling your eyes most of the time for his sake but it was becoming so exhausting when he didn’t try to do anything for your sake.
“So how’s the job hunt, y/n?” A nasally pesky sound buzzed towards your ears, bringing you out of your thoughts about tomorrow's plans. Lifting your gaze with confusion, you still turned to her. 
Rapidly glancing at the people around the table ready to collect their coats, you held in your sigh as their attention was now fixated on you. “I’m not looking for a job.” You answered sharply, Donghyuck helping you into your coat, buttoning it up for you to keep up the perfect husband facade he’s trying to maintain. 
She cocked her head, the hairspray held cylinder bangs bouncing but never moving with gravity. “Really? Hyuckie said you were looking for a job.” God how you hated her. ‘Hyuckie’? Yes you hated his guts as of lately but he’s still your man and jealousy is inevitable. 
You threw a glared at him, “Don't call me ‘Hyuckie’, Merdia.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose knowing what she’s trying to initiate. She chuckled trying to slap his arm playfully but he backed up before she could touch him at all, wrapping his arm around your waist. 
“No… I’m helping a friend of ours. He’s an artist himself so we’ve been contacting old clients of mine to get references or any openings.” The group began to walk as you talked, the clicking of all your heels collecting on the marble tile. She follows along, trying to get as close to you. 
“An artist, how lovely.” One of the women added, smiling towards you. “Yes, he’s quite good. We’ve been working on some pieces for a while, while we wait for some responses.” You smiled fondly at her, your smile as wide as when you used to talk about Hyuck. 
“He’s amazing actually…” your smile refused to diffuse. The woman chuckled, nodding as a response while Hyuck side eyed you, stoic his face became. “Mark is a good artist.” It came out too bitter from his mouth; emphasizing the ‘is’. 
Reaching the front of the restaurant with the cars from the valet already at front the couples were getting ready to bid their goodbyes. “You speak so highly of him, if he’s available for commissions please let me know. All the pieces you’ve brought for our home fit so well I’d be so interested to see his work.” Another woman spoke, holding onto to her husband who smiled at her lovingly. 
This was the brightest you smiled all night, nothing fake and short of past conversations. Haechan loved your smile, he really did but to know it brought Mark into the conversation was making his heart ache. 
“You should really consider coming back as a consultant for the company, y/n. Keeping an eye on Donghyuck on your part is becoming tiresome.” His boss jokes, causing the party to chuckle. “Hope he hasn’t caused more trouble like he used to.” You commented, his lips falling against your cheek to reassure you he was no trouble at all. 
His boss shook his head as a response. “He’s become too boring these past years, loose him up or something.” You laughed knowing he was absolutely right, patting your husband’s hand. “Well… it was a great night, thank you all for accompanying us once again. Sunhee has something to do early tomorrow so I’ll see us out, have a great night.” 
Leading his wife in front of him carefully. In the process of going down the slight hill, one of her shoulder pendants dropped to the concrete. “Mrs. Oh you dropped your—'' Trying to help, you made your way towards it but before you could the obstacle or Merdia’s foot tripped you making you fall into the large fountain for cars to surround. 
You splashed around with the shock of the cold water biting your body as Hyuck rushed to your aid and some of the people in the party trying to see if you were okay. Even the staff noticing the happenings rushed to get whatever they could to free you from the breeze and dry you up. 
But either way you still shivered despite the panting host handing you two warm and folded towels that Haechan secured around you. “What is wrong with you for fuck’s sake.” Hyuck finally broke out, turning to the woman who pretended to be sorry, trying her best to grab you. Merdia was at a loss for words, stammering to say it was an accident but Hyuck retaliated with the exact happenings. 
“That was of such poor taste, Merdia!” One of the women exclaimed, her wrinkled skin prominent the while she frowned in disbelief. “I— I didn’t mean to…” she spoke lowley, glancing at those around her but mainly Hyuck and her boss. The poor man couldn’t make it home yet without making sure you were fine. 
“We all saw you stick out your foot, give it up.” The most cynical in the group spoke up, sipping from the drink she had ordered while the host brought you towels. Sometimes you feared you and Hyuck would turn out like her and her husband. Hating each other too much it was useless to try and hide it from the world. 
She couldn’t even speak, your shivers and Hyuck’s cooing too loud for her to even process the scolding she was getting. “You two go ahead. Y/n is freezing. I don't want her to get sick.” Mr. Oh directed the both of you with his hand, rushing you both to his car while Hyuck apologized but everyone else reassured him it was not his fault and he shouldn’t do so on her behalf. 
All you could hear was his boss telling her he’d want to have a talk with her tomorrow morning while his wife reassured her she was too immature for her grown age. As Hyuck drove away and made sure you were fully covered to not let the breeze cool you more, all you could think about was the hatred you had for the people in his job and those who’ve crossed his path inside that building. Even if Mr and Mrs. Oh were the sweetest people there can be, you’ve found to hate them to an extent. 
He patted you down with his own blazer, covering your bare legs with another one he had in the back without a care if the expensive piece would be ruined. “Are you okay?” He asks concerned, his hand rubbing your arm to warm up the area. Pulling out of the place he continued to blabber, questioning and acting like he cared. He probably did but you didn’t want to believe it. 
You never answered, shivering from both cold and anger. With every second of your silence and his aching chest, Hyuck grew frustrated, not knowing well how to process such emotions. They were bubbling up inside him and the worst of him was taking over, enough to not stop his mouth. 
“For fuck sake, y/n say something! I’ve been asking you the entire ride if you’re okay, speak up!” To say his scream didn’t catch you off guard was an understatement, usually during arguments no one screamed so this was still new to you. 
Even when you imagined your eyes to be wide they were cold to him. “There’s nothing to say.” Your hoarse voice broke out through gritted teeth. He scoffed, palms slamming the steering wheel. “Of course because all you have to say you’ll say to Mark.” That bitterness from earlier was back, his teeth grinded with the mention of his friend.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You turn to him, disgust masked on your face. “Every argument, every discussion, any free second— you’re always with him. You tell him everything, I’m your husband, not him! You’re supposed to have trust in me!” You can hear a sob stuck in his throat, trying his best to repress it but it kept fighting to come out. 
Maybe if it was another time and a past year you’d feel pity but it was only infuriating you. “How do you want me to trust you when those stupid letters are still engraved in my fucking head? All those little greeting kisses? Even the ones of Marida—“ 
“Don’t even bring her up, I would never be with her.” Disgust laced in his tongue. “Of course I know you wouldn't be with her. She’s old and ugly, I know you too well but that stupid seaweed girl is still—“ now it was your turn to hold in the sob. You rather not continue, you’ve tried to hide for too long that you were still hurting from the events that have led to this decaying marriage. 
“Y/n please…” his hand reached for you. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You spat, moving as far as the car door would let you. The action alone caused him to emit a frustrated growl. “That was a while ago! Stop bringing her up for fuck sake.”
The speed he was driving in was only accelerating almost as if he couldn’t really stop his emotions from taking over. “So what, Hyuck? It’s not going to change the fact that you still cheated.” This time you couldn’t stop yourself, your tears forcefully spilled, your silent cry increasing in sound the second your head bowed and hand reached your forehead. 
You hated this, you really hated that he was seeing you this vulnerable but it did really hurt you to see the man that went out of his way to have you throw it all out for an ounce of attention. 
It had started a year and a half ago, though brief, the wound is still very fresh in your heart. With just two years of marriage, Hyuck began to act more loving than usual. In any case that would’ve been fine but if you hadn’t temporarily gone back to work at the same company you’d never know it was due to a short haired redhead that would give him seaweed treats every time the company called her catering services. 
She was sweet and kind. Every time he came around she’d blush and wasn’t able to hide it. Though his flirtation was innocent at first (as it always is) he began to like the attention she gave him. She was detailed about everything, from the color of her catering plates to the tiny designs on every treat but his specifically.  
It went on for a while with just flirtation remarks and gifts, after a while they’d accidentally cross paths at the park where he’d walk the dog you shared and soon became their hang out spot where they’d talk and talk for hours until the sun would set and he’d have to walk her home. Sometimes he’d simply spend the night… 
She’d tell him good night with a shy hug and a kiss to the cheek progressively getting closer to the corner of his mouth. Soon came the letters, the ones of her professing her love for him and how passionately she felt about him asking him to not speak of his own feelings just yet as she wasn’t ready for a response.  
And when she had finally gotten emotionally prepared for a response, a divine intervention came. On the day you had come back from a trip for a piece to place at the front of the company— the catering team had been called.  
With the table set and the treats and meals prepared, the employees came along. Anxiously waiting for his entrance with a plate of the same seaweed treats she’s been making him all these months, her face brightened up when he came into the picture.  
You still recall the scene before you: Have forgotten your coat, Hyuck had offered to give you one of his he had kept in his office granting him to let you walk to the lounge area with the rest of the employees.  
At the moment you had been standing with a few of his female coworkers catching you up on all the gossip you missed while out of town and working at a different company, laughing along to whatever they were saying when he had just walked in with his coat in hand searching for you but being stopped by that same red head. 
You wouldn’t have thought anything of it was it not for how she excitedly pulled him in, her lips gracefully falling to the corner of his mouth given he turned his head so it wouldn’t have. She seemed to dismiss that as she handed him the treats and he thanked her.  
She was rambling for a while making him grow a bit exasperated but she placed down any other plate and removed her gloves begging him to follow her outside the lounge. Looking around in hopes no one else caught what you had, you excused yourself to look for him in hopes the other two women around you didn’t follow.  
You had ended outside the door, hidden behind the protruding wall to listen into their conversation but it was a grave mistake.  
“I-I wrote you another letter.” She handed it to him, a shy smile along. “Don’t read it right now, I just want to make this quick because it’s eating me alive, but—“ she sighs nervously, hands beginning to shake and sweat.  
Exhaling through her lips, “I’m at a point where it hurts so much being around you daily. I really like you, Donghyuck. I’ve made it clear in all these letters and with this one more. I dream of kissing you more than I already do, I want all of you and I finally want to know if you want me too.” Her voice was as shaky as her hands.  
Hyuck was at a loss for words, he knew what he wanted to say but he knew he couldn’t, not when he loved you more than her. He could’ve said something but his initial thought was to take her into an embrace giving her false hope when she reciprocated it, smiling and sighing to herself the tighter she pulled him in. Her hands caressing his back like you always do.  
The sight and confession was eating you alive, the lump in your throat was too heavy and hard, it was choking you. This was all killing you but you’ll be damned if you were to let anyone get him after your vows have been made.  
Fighting with that lump you finally swallowed it, turning on your heel and walking towards them with determination and anger in your body.  
“Hyuckie! What’s taking you so long?” Your voice as fierce as always, it’s a quality they all liked about you. “I— um well.” If he was to be truthful, he was shitting bricks in this instance.  
“I’m cold, come— feel.” Your lips puckered up pecking him and your hands reached his cheeks making him laugh into the kiss. All the catering girl could do was look at the both of you dumbfoundedly, eyes large as her heart broke into million pieces. 
“Yeah, I see— honey this is… well. She caters for the company.” Oh he was so full of shit. Turning to the girl in front of you two as he wraps his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. “This is my wife, Y/n. She’s an art consultant here.”  
Poor girl, she just nodded as a response, meekly speaking her ‘nice to meet you’s’ before excusing herself before her throat fully closed up and the waterworks began.  
When she was earshot away, you turned to him. The fire in your eyes turned soft and sad as your fists found themselves against his chest. “I leave you alone for three months and you do this to me?” The air was scarce around you, he didn’t make it better the more he tried to pull you in and his apologies spewed from his lips. 
When he had finally taken a tight hold of you, you did your best to relax. Labored breaths against his chest, his apologies never ending followed by kisses that you tried to avoid.  
“When we get home you’re giving me every single one of those fucking letters and trust if I see her again here or wherever the fuck you two are seeing each other, I will make sure you’ll be the one to wish you had never tried this stupid game.” 
Hyuck knew of your status in the company and in his own field alone. Even if you didn’t have that leverage, a scandal like this was enough to ruin his career. As an increasingly important member he couldn’t afford an affair scandal, it wasn’t going well for any of his other coworkers.  
So when he swore to never let it happen you rushed him to the lounge, taking the coat, putting it on, and walking to the washroom hoping the red head would be there. Lord knows you’d rather cry in one than let anyone in the building see you a sobbing mess.  
But you’re always right, so upon opening the doors to the black marbled washroom, leaning against the matching sink— she tries to stop letting her tears spill. When the door harshly slammed, she turned around scared , only to continue her pained cries when she saw your face.  
“I didn’t know he was married if that’s what you wanted to ask.” She hiccuped, trying her best to stop. “I know.” You answer, standing next to her in front of the other sink.  
With your finger you clean up the smeared lipstick from the kiss, a reminder to her of what you can freely do whenever you want and all she could respond with was another sob. “Did he sweet talk you until you finally agreed to go out with him or something?”  
She shook her head, wiping away some loose tears. “I was the one to start it all, he was just flirty so I thought he liked me back.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with a paper towel. “That’s just how he is. He playfully flirts with everyone.” That didn’t seem to make her feel any better, it was making her feel worse.  
Angered at the turn of events, she looked at you with desperation. She could see why he wouldn’t leave you for her. You were beautiful, the way you carried yourself was so enticing and pleasant.  
You were charismatic, confident, and it seemed like everyone loved you by the way people greeted you upon entering the lounge before him. Of course he wasn’t going to leave you, you were a diamond in the rough.  
“Why are you here?” She questioned desperately, feeling more tears coming this time. With your lipstick at hand, you threw her a glance ignoring her as you retouched the color. When you had finished you turned to her, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.  
“I don’t blame you, you didn’t know he was married and the bastard was just having his little fun while I was away at your expense. But now you do know he’s married so I better not see you near him again.” The clicking of yours heels bold as your words upon reaching the golden handle. 
Turning to her waiting for a response. “You’re not sorry about it, right?” You smiled at her, genuine curiosity upon the question. “Why should I be? You said it yourself. He was having his fun at my expense… Maybe just for you.” She sniffled again, clutching the paper towel to her chest.  
“Smart girl.” With a final nod, you made your way out, dropping the facade and rushing to the elevator down to the basement and to your car. Just like she had, you allowed your tears to flow while leaning on the steering wheel, your hands slamming full force against the dashboard the louder your sobs became.  
Everything from that point on went downhill. The dog perhaps had felt the atmosphere and months later had died leaving you alone to fend off your repressed emotions on your own. A month after that Hyuck had made you leave the company you worked at, given your state, along telling you he needed more time with you and perhaps nothing would’ve happened if you didn’t travel out the country for months on end. It all led to where you were at now. 
If it wasn’t for Mark being around, you’d still be moping about the situation. How can someone that’s done everything in his power to be with you and love you more than he loves himself do that to you? 
How can he, after four years together, allow something like this to happen when you’re not home and then blame you for the happenings? If you hadn’t interrupted them, he would’ve confessed he also felt something for her. Not as strong as he feels for you but he would still feel an attachment. 
“Just, please…” He pleaded, fear in his voice. “I keep telling myself not to write to you all the time, but the mere thought of you is so strong, but I can’t help writing thousands of letters to you everyday and every second. I hope you like the seaweed treats, and make them all for you.’ I hope you like the seaweed treats. I make them all for you.' You fucking hate, seaweed Hyuck.” 
He was more amazed that you memorized all that but knowing how you were you had probably fixated on that part of each letter that entire week he gave them to you. “I read over your letters day and night. Can’t stop thinking about you and I know I’ve told you multiple times not to tell me how you feel, a part of me can tell how you feel from all your letters and the way you touch me.”
“Y/n, stop!” Hyuck yelled at you. He didn’t really understand if he was more angry that you still brought it up or that you kept reciting stuff you were keeping away from him. “I wish the cheek kisses were more than just that, sometimes I really wish I could kiss you but for now I’ll settle for this.’ That’s before you your last few letters by the way.“ 
He was driving recklessly at this point, the car, either speeding or swerving, but neither of you could care much. Before you knew what he had pulled up to the basement of your apartment complex, parking in the assigned spot.
Neither of you got out of the car. He just sat there in silence basking in the uncomfortable atmosphere that both of you created. 
“You know I still think about that cheek kiss, and how many more there have been.
“Probably just as many as the ones you’ve been giving Mark.”
It was your time to scoff offendedly, looking at him with disgust and anger in your eyes. “Aw fuck you! Mark and I have always been platonic! And yes I do tell him everything, he listens to me, he remembers the small things, he actually tries to be of comfort unlike you.” 
Your fists found your thighs, the textile of his coat sliding off to the floor of the car. “By the way, really? Sending him to buy the gift?” Pulling at the locket, you show it to him. “You’re sad you’re not the man I met…” You slumped back against the car seat, unbuckling yourself ready to get out. 
“Well neither are you! You’re not that lively girl anymore—“
“Because you ruined me! You make everyone around you miserable! Mark and I have a great time until you come home and bring us down with you! You suck like the life out of people, Hyuck. Even the dog died because of what you started!”
That was enough for the both of you. Glaring each other down in silence as the animosity settled around you, suffocating you both to the point you just shook your heads and threw the towels and remaining coats to the back of the car while stepping out, slamming the car door and leaving him be, hearing his screams as he slammed his fists on the wheel and dashboard while you walked away. 
Just like the day that started all this, you rushed to the elevator allowing your sobs to become louder. With every rising number, your pleas to stop the tears followed suit in case Mark was still awake. 
You didn’t want him to see you like this. It already pains you enough that Haechan was able to see you crumble because of him, you didn’t want Mark to see how vulnerable you could be again. 
But what you didn’t know is that Mark has already seen your vulnerability besides your anniversary night. With every passing month he’s stayed with you, you granted him an open window of what else you could offer and he liked that more and more as the days passed. 
Entering the threshold of the apartment and leaving the door unlocked for when Donhyuck decided to come in, your feet waltzed towards Mark’s room. The faintest of music could be heard, you couldn’t hear him but you could hear the song. 
‘Someday you will ache like I ache…’  
Sang in a loop, spinning inside your head the closer you got to the door. Hyuck was right, you did want to open the door and tell Mark tonight’s happenings. You wanted him to take you into an embrace and comfort you but you didn’t want Hyuck to be right and your initial thoughts on your vulnerability weren’t allowing it either. 
There was nothing else to do but head towards your bedroom, throwing Hyuck’s pillow to the living room before finally locking the door behind you. The song kept repeating itself as you prepared yourself for bed, the volume in your head increasing with every movement you made up until your head hit your cold lonesome pillow. 
The stupid song was only making you want Mark to be right beside you, to at least see him before you slept so you could end the night in a good note and not the bitterness your husband made you endure. 
So now that your face wasn’t as puffy from the crying and only the tingling remained, you jumped from the bed rushing to his room glad Hyuck was taking his time in the garage. 
The pitter-patter of your feet against the tile was loud for you, the creaking of his door making you wince as it screeched at you, and the song was even more loud to you than it already was. 
Illuminated by a desk lamp and the city lights while his curtains remained slightly ajar, you approached his resting body. He looked so peaceful in this position, holding tightly to one of the pillows. It’s decor fur rustling with the whistles of his silent snores. Aside from peaceful, he looked beautiful. 
The image of him was making your chest twist and turn; crouching down to eye level when your hand subconsciously fell to his face. Caressing the growing stubble he tried so hard to remove but you loved so much.
He wasn’t much of a deep sleeper, the touch alone waking him up much to your fright. Ready to remove your hand from his face, his hand held it in place as the other rubbed at his eyes. With you in front of him and the placement of your hands, Mark quizzically looked at you, still squinting away his slumber. 
“What’s up?” Was all he could muster, trying his best to smile but found it too tedious. You shook your head, returning the smile. “Did the music bother you? Let me just turn it of—“ 
“The music is fine.” You stopped him from bolting up. The last thing you wanted was for him to lose his comfort. This time around he was finally waking up, well slightly given he nodded with one eye closed and the other open, still trying hard to smile. 
“Scoot over.” Patting the pillow, he follows your orders tossing it to the other side and freeing a spot for you. When able to, you climbed on the bed beside him, facing him and taking his arm to wrap around your waist as if you were that pillow. 
Mark felt shaky at the situation, his hands becoming clammy and trying his best for you to not figure out how nervous you were making him. “So… It’s your turn to sleep here tonight?” He joked, his smile finally showing. 
You scrunch your nose, shaking your head, causing him to chuckle. “He’d rather see me sleeping on the road than being in bed with another man.” Noticing his rising fright, your finger pressed against your lip, signaling that it’ll be your little secret to which he nodded trying his best to have that smile return. 
“I’m guessing it wasn’t a good night again?” His eyes fixated on the way your face muscles contorted. “It is now!” You laugh, taking a hold of his hand squeezing it between your hands. Mark reciprocated the laugh, his body unconsciously getting closer to yours. 
“Wanna talk about it?” You shook your head. “I do want to talk about my favorite person right now, though.” You turn to him, cupping his cheek in your now free hand. He smiled shyly, eyes shutting tight the more overwhelmed he became. 
“Is tomorrow’s interview still on?” As told to the wives of Hyuck’s coworkers, you had been helping Mark during his job hunt. Contacting old bosses of yours and art lovers in hopes they’d take him in and help him gain that passion for the arts on a commercial level. 
Though things were radio silent these months, finally someone had called him back and asked if he could go in for an interview in hopes of hiring him for some installations for a new chain of restaurants the man was soon to open and maybe a position at one of his studios. 
With the mention of the interview, his already wide eyes grew and a coat glossed over the moment he began to excitedly ramble about his ideas and just genuine happiness of finally going back into a studio. 
He was adorable to say the least; the unintentional stammering, his slipping laughs from joy, and his unconscious emotional movements the more he got excited over this opportunity. To say the least perhaps Mark and you weren’t too far with how you felt and you weren’t much better than Hyuck. 
Nevertheless, if he was going to be selfish then you would too. 
“Then make sure to get a goodnight sleep so you can look refreshed and ready. Prayers, you'll get it!” You exclaimed excitedly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. 
He didn’t hesitate this time, arms tightening around you. His hands begin to roam against your skin and his exhales landing on your hair, rustling them like ferns in a windy gloom beach. It felt too familiar yet foreign as the sensation was new but the visual wasn’t. 
“Night.” He whispered against your ear, his long fingers tracing patterns against your flesh to the point goosebumps formed. Mark smiled at the reaction, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, fighting to not inch closer to the swollen lips.  
“Night…” you whispered back when he let you go, staring at each other whilst you struggled to get out of his bed, the smell and warmth of you intoxicating him tonight. 
“By the way, Hyuck is still in the car. Do you mind getting him if he doesn’t come back by the time you go to sleep?” There the moment went at the mention of his best friend, your husband. His smile dropped but he nodded. 
Finally being able to close the door behind you, your feet rushed to lock the apartment door then your shared bedroom with Haechan who even now had not returned not thinking about how the mention of him had drastically changed Mark’s demeanor.
Situated in your cold bed once again, the city lights being the only source of illumination and the mixture of Mark’s song with the water pipes lulled you into the night. The thoughts of how history was only repeating itself with the exception that it was your turn to get a lick of Happiness. 
Mark did make you happy and his actions tonight only worked as reassurance that he saw you the same way you were seeing him now. As fucked as this entire situation is, it’s only fair that Hyuck aches like you have been these years.
Morning came and all that was left of Hyuck was his pillow right next to your head, his smell lingering in the sheets when you woke and his spot still warm. Maybe he hadn’t spent the night in Mark’s room or he had paid you a visit while you slept but you still couldn’t let your anger subside.
As in for Mark, you both ignored any lingering attraction, his chirpy self hyping the possibilities of getting the job. That’s what you liked about Mark, even when in a rut he was trying his best to act positive. 
With the goal of getting through that interview, you sat in the waiting room, idly flipping through the magazines as he talked with your old friend. Prayers in your tongue, sliding around and hoping he’d get it. 
So when he walked out through the white doors, smiling and laughing along to the jokes of the man beside him, things only looked as bright as him. His tie was a mess, flimsy and slightly undone. The button of his shirt undone and showing enough clavicle, smudges of graphite mixing in with sweat. His dress pants were worse off, splatter of oil paint in the bottom and drying stoneware seeping in. 
Disturbance in your face overpowered the smile you tried to give him, insanely frustrated for how much trouble it would be to remove all those stains. But it later dawned on you that he did his own laundry and often told you to not do these things for him. 
On one end it was nice that he assured you he didn’t depend on you but on the other you wanted him to— you were getting too used to the life Hyuck and you have been living… god, you seem to have forgotten all the times you’ve fought with him to do laundry as well, now you just do it for both of you. 
“Don’t look so gloom, darling. I didn’t beat him.” The older man told you, your muscles relaxing at his soft voice. “You did add trouble to the laundry load, Yasuki.” Your fingers ran across the stained spots, not quite noticing how Mark flexed his muscles from your touch, nervously laughing at the happenings. 
If you could see how you were looking at him you’d probably slap yourself. Your eyes glistened at the sight of him, his brown locks tamed back but that strand of hair still managed to fall over and play with his vision. It didn’t help that he was sweaty and his shirt was showing you a bit more skin than expected. 
“So how did he do?” You question straightening Mark’s sleeves. “That’s for him to tell you,” he winked at you, noticing he had a brush in hand to which he tapped against his leg. “I’d like to catch up but I have a meeting in five, so please excuse me.” His mustache ruffled a bit with every movement of his lip. 
You found it endearing how charismatic the old man was. He was so jolly that as he parted ways from you both, he skipped towards his office, that same brush tapping on his knees twice with each step. In a better life you’d want to be that happy. 
“So?” You question Mark, hand reaching to wipe his forehead and rid of his sweat. “So?” He mimicked, a bright smile that could only make you mirror it with every step you two took towards the elevator. 
The ding was heard and the doors ungraciously opened, both stepping in. “Come on~” you whined at his lack of response, Mark laughing quietly at how desperate you sounded. 
“Well how would you think I did?” He asks, stepping out the elevator once the doors opened, following after you. You shrugged on the way to the car, letting him speed his step to open the door for you. 
“You have to give me more than that if you expect an answer.” He cheekily smiles down on you, closing the passenger’s door and walking over to the driver's side. “Judging from how you came back, I’d say he had you working quite hard so he probably liked your style!” Excitement laced your voice, turning to him after buckling up. 
“Ding ding ding!” You look at him with joy. “So you got the job?!” Your voice was now squeaky, eyes almost bulging out. “Yes and no… he gave me some options first.” Cocking an eyebrow and leaning your head to the side, you looked at him with huge curiosity. 
“What do you mean?” He turns to you, tongue nervously swiping across his bottom lip, eyes averting to avoid yours. “One… if I want to continue with my own mediums, I’d have to relocate to his studio in a different city. It’s not as far, maybe two hours or so but far for a daily trip it is.”
You felt your world crumble and he had only given you the first option, you felt it stab your chest repeatedly. “Or two— his studio an hour away but it’s strictly digital art and design. It’s much closer and maybe if I take the express lines at the highway it’ll be faster but— I have no clue how digital art works so I’d be quite behind than the rest of the team.”
Mark was more concerned with his options that he failed to see the bigger image. With whatever option he took, he’d have to leave you regardless and that’s what was killing you right now. Your excitement was gone and right now you regretted recommending him. 
“What? What’s wrong?” He finally stopped his blabbering, noticing the look on your face was the same one you gave Hyuck when he hurt you. If there was something Mark didn’t want was to be compared to his best friend. 
“You’ll be moving out won't you?”
“Well yeah…”
You shift on your spot, head hanging low. 
“Please don’t. I promise we don’t mind you staying, actually it’s been the best thing to happen to me.” He dismissed the fact that you were talking about yourself, not wanting to make illusions out of it. 
“Y/n,” he softly chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek and making you turn to him. “I can’t commute daily for one-to-two hours, honey.” 
Oh… that wasn’t good. 
The sweet adoring look in his eyes wasn’t helping either. “Come on, I did tell you I’d stay for only a little bit didn’t I?” He tenderly smiled, thumb playing with the corner of your lips, all you could do was pout at him. 
“I didn’t expect it to be too short, I like you around. It’d be better if you just stayed with us.” He found your protruding lower lip adorable, unconsciously rubbing his thumb across it. “Thanks, but you guys are married, I can’t just third wheel all the time. Maybe if you two were just dating it’d be different but you're not and sooner or later you’ll form a family, I’d just stick out like a sore thumb.”
A family with Donghyuck? God, you put that thought in the back burner for too long after the incident that the words were making you ill now. Even when you two were dating, the idea of a family wasn’t something pleasant.
Mark took your silence as you still being sad about him possibly leaving, patting your arm and stretching his arms to take you in an embrace. “Don’t be so pouty, it won’t do us any good.” He spoke against your ear once his arms wrapped around your shoulders. 
He felt warm, his musk even more prominent than last night. Your own arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer even when the shift stick was in between. 
“Just really wish you wouldn’t leave us…” you pulled away slightly, enough to make him turn to look at you. “Wouldn’t leave me.” In a whisper, the words hit his lips. 
Mark’s lips parted, shaky breaths leaving as he noticed how close you were. When the lingering stares didn’t subside until you leaned in to what he assumed was a kiss to his cheek; it took him by surprise when your lips fell upon his. 
His eyes widened in shock but the flavor of your cherry stain was too sweet and the taste of you was intoxicating. He’d be a liar if he said wanted to pull away but just with all temptation, Mark fell into it. 
His arms tightened around you, his eyes shutting and finally reciprocating the kiss you initiated. He loved the small whines that spilled from your lips. He swallowed them all with every passing that he’d part his, deepening the kiss and both your hands began to roam. 
You felt it in your core, that excruciating desire when his nimble fingers danced around the hem of your shirt, finding an opening so he could stick his hand under it. Your flesh was cold against his, aching at how his fingers cooled with just a touch. 
Your hands had unraveled from his waist, now playing with the buckle of his belt. Popping it open, and continuing the quest with his pants. He’d harden with every touch of yours, your palm rubbing his cock over the strained textile that only made him ache more.  
His warm fingers felt like fire against your freezing flesh, they danced across your back, caressing it until they met with the strap of your bra. Playing with the clasp until he was able to unbuckle it and his hands rushed to your breasts, kneading the mounds that seemed to be made for his hands. A perfect fit. 
Your moans loudly cascaded into his mouth, his tongue enveloping yours with every passing kiss. When your hands managed to pull at the hem of his briefs and finally grasp his hardened shaft; his own moans became present.
Eyes shut tightly, he bit your lower lip pleasurably painful. Your hands had warmed up in the process of touching him, that warmth making him feel like pity under your grasp with every pump you gave his cock. 
“I want to taste you.” Your voice broke him out of his daze, your lips finding solace in his neck, licking and nipping at the flesh. Mark moans vibrating through his throat, making you ravish his neck even more, your hand moving at a rhythm that was causing him to shake under you. 
Upon opening his eyes, it had dawned on him that you two were still in the parking lot of the studio. A wave of freight flooded him and a gasp left his lips along a worried ‘fuck’. 
“Wait, stop, stop!” His abruptness confused you and almost scared you. If he was regretting this already you didn’t know how to take it. “We can’t do it here, I think I saw a lake not far from here.” But he put your mind at ease making your concerned frown turn into a smile, leaning in to kiss him as he tucked himself back in.
Looking around to make sure no one had seen anything, Mark rushed out of the parking lot. Your labored breaths faintly mixing with the radio conductor mentioning to make plans for the new millennium and enjoy the last months of this year. 
Some were frightened and others were scared. As for you, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that Mark arrived to you months before the 2000s. Maybe that’s the new beginning everyone is talking about. 
Minutes later, you’d arrive at the lake he was talking about. Maybe it was because he was speeding from his excessive desire but he found a spot in which you’d both be hidden from the public. Rushing out and towards you; Mark made sure to cramp both of you inside the backseat. 
From how rushedly you both went in, some bumps along the way weren’t missed, making you both whine but forget about it when looking at each other. Hyuck wasn’t present in Mark’s mind but he was in yours. 
You were really doing this and remorse was difficult to find. 
“God, I’m so glad I can have you like this.” His lips spewed after each of his kisses on you. They were warm with every passing peck, attaching themselves to yours. Your hips began rutting against his groin, the thin piece of skirt doing nothing to hold off. 
Instantly Mark could feel the wet patch, groaning at how warm it was. Fuck, he wanted you badly. 
Upon pulling away from the kiss you two were too enthralled in, Mark looked at you through hooded dark eyes. He looked at you as if you were prey, the one who’d succumb to him and the way his grip on your waist tightened told you so.
Patting your ass while bunching up your skirt, “Lay on your back, I wanna eat you out.” His voice had dropped an octave, the huskiness making you shiver as you unbutton your blouse, the bra falling gracefully once free from the confinement of the buttons.
Curses spilled from his lips looking at you on his journey to kneel on the floor of the car, trying his best to push up the front seats to give him enough space. His once dark eyes glistened at the view of you, all that was left was the tiny fabric of your panties and the bunch around your waist. 
He caressed your thighs, leaning in to leave tiny wet kisses against the flesh that caused your eyelids to flutter from how close he was to your cunt. You could feel his breath fanning over the area, your legs twitching as he inched closer and closer.
When his lips hovered over your clothed cunt, Mark looked at you through his lashes, smirking at the state he had left you, blowing on your aching mound. “Stop fucking around.” You whined, hands clutching onto your breast, fingers twirling around your perked buds.
Mark chuckled, nodding in response before his fingers pushed aside the fabric of your panties. Moans erupting from his throat with every strand of your arousal stuck to your panties. He didn’t take much to please you, his own want taking over his being. 
Mark felt too happy about having you that he didn’t think about anything, not even the fact that he was betraying his best friend. Essentially his brother. 
His tongue came in contact with your slit, swiping upwards to meet your clit and continue the process of enticing kitty licks. You’ve been starved for so long that just the simple caress of his warm muscle was making you wither underneath him.
Your fingers danced across your skin, leaving warm trails on the frozen canvas. You couldn’t stop looking at him, progressively divulging further the more he fell obsessed with the taste of you. Mark ravaged the cavern between your legs, his lips glossed over by your juices that dripped down his chin.
He looked beautiful.His eyes screwed shut as he savored you, tongue laying flat when it wasn’t on your clit, his fingers grappling your thighs tightly enough to not let you go, and his lips refusing to let their suction go from you clit.
Your moans cascaded out your lips like a siren’s song, reeling him deeper and deeper into your trap. He didn’t mind, if he was to die at your hands then so be it, at least he’ll die blissfully. 
Enveloping his rosy lips on your clit, he latched onto it for dear life. Suctioning with force, much to your pleasure, Mark basked in the whimpers you let out. Withering under his touch and crying when he only kept granting you more pleasure. 
It didn’t help he teased your entrance with his fingers, making you cry over how much you wanted to feel full. In that instance, he parted from you, allowing you to spew your angry whimpers. 
“Look at me.” He patted your thigh forcefully enough to leave a sting behind. “Come on.” He demanded, repositioning himself closer to you, a perfect fit between his face and your cunt.
When you were finally able to open your eyes, you breathed out at the experience he was granting. “Don’t look away or close your eyes. I’ll stop if you do.” He menacingly spoke, smirking at how you responded with a frown and a nod. 
“Good girl. ” Fuck.
Breaking eye contact with you; Mark puckered his lips, accumulating spit that as of now he was letting slide down his tongue and onto your cunt. That same muscle poking out to spread it across your labia and clit. 
A hand came up to your mouth, trying your best to muffle the cry he caused. It didn’t help he found your frustrations amusing and his chuckles made a vibration that sent you overboard even more. 
You’d both could end up dying at each other’s hands.
His tongue lapped at your clit, collecting his spit and your arousal around the mound each time he was to suck on it. Mark knew you liked it, your body always reacted by shaking and your fingers threading onto his hair. 
He liked the sting from when you pulled on his locks. He liked when you shoved his face closer to the point you began to ride his face while his tongue penetrated you, licking upon every inch of your walls. It didn’t help that he tried his best to not break eye contact. With every moment and action, you’d both look at each other like your life depended on it. 
“Mark please… please let me finish, fuck—“ it came out strangled. His fingers clung to your skin, rubbing your clit each time his lips left it to allow his tongue to fuck you. 
He hummed against your cunt, warm breath fanning over it before kissing it passionately again. Mark didn’t respond but he did give you a show. With the way he sensually stuck out his tongue to caress your slit upon allowing his lips to land on your mound, you couldn’t help but feel that excruciating pit in your stomach flow to core, tingling painfully. 
He teased you each time. When he laid his tongue flat, he’d throw you a glance before shutting his eyes and swallowing your essence, fully intoxicated by it. 
“Mark!” You whined, a chilling tantrum to ensue. “Alright, alright, you big baby.” He laughed, swiveling his tongue flat against you. You felt your eyes roll and when he thought you were disobeying his one request, he nipped your thigh, causing you to squeal at the shock. 
“What did I tell you?” He cocked his eyebrow, teeth clenching around your sensitive flesh. “I’m looking, I’m looking.” You reassured, a look of despair on your face. A silent snort left him before resuming his activities. 
All that was heard was the mixture of labored breaths, cries, his deep moans, and the squelching between your cunt and his mouth. You couldn’t hold back much longer, it was becoming overstimulating and Mark didn’t hold back off much with how he worked his tongue. 
He seemed to sense your frustrations. His fingers picked up the pace on your bud, pressing down for more friction while his tongue entered you. Pistoning in and out, collecting every drop and making sure it didn’t spill to the car seat. 
You couldn’t hold much longer, your thighs clenched around his face, causing him to look directly at you while your body gave out on you.  He pressed down on your lower abdomen with his free hand. In a matter of seconds, you twisted under him. A coil unraveling where he held you and a loud moan leaving as a cry, your essence gushing out, covering his facial lower half.
He made sure to not let a single drop go, his tongue overstimulating you to no end but nevertheless stopped his assault. Your eyes were fixated on his, desperate want making you pull him by the neck, ravishing his lips with yours. 
The sweet nectar of you clinging to his tongue, the same tongue that waltzed around with yours. In the process of holding onto him for dear life, Mark kicked off his pants, shimming out of them and his briefs. Bare beneath, he pulled you over his aching cock, the tip gracing your lower half enough to make you squirm desperately.
“Fill me whole…” You whispered against his lips, biting them from time to time to signal how much you needed him. “Shit, looking at you is going to make me cum already.” You laughed along with him, connecting your lips again while your hips rutted against his cock. 
The silk of your walls rubbing against him, groaning in despair with every single of your movement, and he couldn’t even hold you or he’d make you go faster. He needed to be inside of you badly or he’d probably end up splattering all over his stomach.
“Yeah?” You questioned, face leaning against your shoulder, gripping his shirt so tightly it could leave wrinkles on it. “I want to paint your walls and feel it all ooze down them while I fuck it into you.” Mark’s words made you feel lightheaded, speeding up your pace and your fingernails to cling onto his shoulder blades.
He winced at the sting, removing your hands before pulling off his shirt, sweat drenching his bare chest. His proportions were insane; his slim physique enticing you to wrap your arms around him, holding tightly to his small waist as his abs clenched with the feeling of you against him.
“Lift your ass up a bit.” He commanded, holding your lower back while pumping his shaft, letting his precum collect at the tip. You took this as an opportunity to kiss the exposed skin of his neck. Your tongue licking stripes along his clavicle while it made its way to his jaw, leaving kisses all along it. 
You could feel his disgruntled moans vibrating against your lips the more he jerked himself off, leaving you dry and needy with occasionally taunting of his tip rubbing against your cunt causing you to whine against his ear for him to laugh at your misery.
“Mark, stop teasing!” You cried against his chest, your hands clinging onto him. Your hips began rutting against him again, lowering them until he’d smack his large hand across your flesh— reacting with a jolt and a gasp of arousal, your cunt never failed to clench around air. 
“You’re so needy, princess. I guess I can’t keep you waiting.” His lower lip pushed out in faux apologies, a smirk creeping out when you rolled your eyes at him. He only laughed, kissing you while aligning his cock with your cunt, eagerly ready to dive in.
He didn’t tease you anymore. Taking a grasp by your waist, Mark aided you to sink onto his cock, the stretch of his girth making you mewl like a wounded cat. You didn’t imagine him to be this big even when you held him you didn’t think much of it but now that he was fully in you and gravity was only making him fill you to the hilt, you fully felt his volume. 
His hands caressed your face and hair, patting down the strands while you tried your best to become comfortable around him. You didn’t expect it to be this difficult, maybe it was because of your lack of sexual life with Hyuck that any intrusion was foreign but God were you starting to enjoy the pain mixed with pleasure his best friend was sprawling within you. 
“You good?” He wondered, eyes fighting to keep open and experience your every movement fearing the moment would be gone if he didn’t keep himself fixated on you. “Yeah— fuck me, please…” you begged, your hips beginning to move against his. His lips fell ajar, his curses spilling in a prayer, fingers denting your skin the tighter his grip became. 
He created scratch marks along the flesh; his hips met your rhythm and your silent pleads became audible when you felt the angry tip of his cock kiss upon your walls leaving its gratitude in the form of gratification.
As for him, he felt your walls tighten around him, ready to clear him of all his cum— claiming him as your own. It wasn’t helpful that you were also holding onto him not wanting to let him go, your lips enticing him with every caress you gave. 
“You drive me insane, y/n…” he began, the sound of skin slapping against skin fading any other besides your labored breaths. His breath danced across your cheek, ruffling the hair that stuck to the sweat you produced. “I never thought we’d end up in this predicament but it feels as if it was meant to be— you for me and—“ your lips encased his, not letting him finish his sentence.
Whatever it was that he was trying to clear out was long forgotten the second your hips picked up their speed and the rhythm of your swiveling pelvis made him groan into the kiss. “I can’t get enough of you and this is only the beginning.” He laughed in between pauses, you shushed him in the process. 
You didn’t want to hear him talk besides his obscenities and praises, that’s all. It wasn’t time to bring in the reality you two will face or that awaits you. All that was precious at the moment was his cock stuffed inside your cunt causing both of you unimaginable pleasure. 
His eyes left yours, looking in between both of you. Mark lowered his head, accumulating spit in his mouth before letting the string of saliva fall onto your cunt. He took some of the spit that fell between you both and took it upon your clit. 
Biting his lower lip, pushing his hair back a bit— Mark continued to thrust his hips, fingers starting to circle at your clit clockwise. His grunts became louder just like yours with the amount of friction between you both. When his pelvic bone rubbed in between your bodies as his fingers went hard at your clit, you couldn’t help but feel your legs shake. 
The image of his spit dribbling down the tip of his tongue onto where you two connected was engraved in your mind, head throwing back by mere memory. “Do it in my mouth.” You told him, hand cupping his cheek. “Spit in it?” He questioned, you nodded, sticking your tongue out much to his pleasure. 
Puckering his lips, Mark saw the string of saliva land perfectly on your red muscle. You held it out for him to see as he thrusted into you, the pool rippled and threatened to fall with each of these jolts. Closing your mouth to swallow his residue, you stuck your tongue out again to show him you had taken all of it, simulating what you could do if it was his cum. 
He groaned at the image before him, the glistening of your sweaty chest blinding him as he pulled you closer to him by your cheeks. His fingers dug dents into your flesh as he held them tightly.
“You’re so hot, fuck!” A guttural groan left him, this time his spit was angry by the way it splattered in your mouth. This time he didn’t let you swallow it, his lips softly collided against yours, hot and angry was the plump flesh that ravished yours, nipping in hopes to receive more of your wanton noises. 
His tongue felt soft against yours, like that of satin and velvet rubbed against each other with the warmest of liquid coating them both. Sloppy the kiss was becoming, enough to let air in and make it last longer. You loved the taste of him, whether it was the mint-iness of his toothpaste or the blueberry tea he drank before leaving the apartment— it was driving you crazy how obsessed you were becoming. 
Mark was so near, with how hard he was thrusting within you, walls warm and clenching around his bare cock— all he wished for was to cum, to cum on you, in you, or over you— it didn’t matter. He just wanted to cum and now he couldn’t really help himself. 
“I can’t hold it any longer.” He warned you, removing his fingers from your clit, hands now holding tightly onto your hips. “Mark…” you whimpered, eyes barely opened, sweat accumulating at your neck making it all so sticky but it seemed to be over quite soon. Your forehead pressed against his, hand holding onto his neck. 
“Huh?” He’d respond, moving his hips once again, his pace only increased when you didn’t continue talking. “God, keep going.” You finally answered him, a soft chuckle leaving his lips before his head dipped down and kissed you once again. His lips soon trailed down your neck, tongue lapping at the thin flesh between your collarbones holding back to not leave any marks. 
It was eating him alive. Not because of Hyuck but because he wanted a mark on you to know this wasn’t a dream that he was actually fucking you and that you had chose him. But all he could muster was licking your flesh, savoring you to at least have that memory. Even the marks his teeth made disappeared quickly, taunting him and his credibility. 
You pulled his hair to make him look at you again, a pained yelp leaving his open mouth. He looked so pretty it could make you cry. In that instance you took him in for another kiss, just like him this was the only memory you could have. 
The kiss worked to muffle your increasing moans while he thrusted within you. By how close your bodies were, his lower half began rubbing at your sensitive clit. He seemed to know how sensitive you were down below as he only kept going faster and harder, allowing your fingers to dig deeper into his shoulders.
You were so close, he knew it. Mark knew how close you were and it didn’t help him at all. Your lips parted from his as yours mewls became highly audible, lips slightly agape. Mark couldn’t help but wonder how your lips covered in cum would look like. Just the imagery of the warm cloudy substance on your swollen lips made him hold onto your waist to fuck further more into you. 
“I can feel you so deep inside me,” you laughed against his neck, lips gracing his delicate flesh. “You’re twitching so much, just let go, Markie...” Your words sent him into a frenzy. His eyes screwed shut, his fingers refusing to let go of you and it wasn’t of much help that his sensitive tip was rubbing up against your warm walls. Kissing his cock with every thrust and squeezing in frustration every time it threatened to leave them. 
Oh, fuck he couldn’t help himself. With one last thrust and on the verge of cumming; Mark pushed you further down his cock as much as he could despite how much he’s abused your cunt with this same action alone. You clenched around him from the friction, your pleasured cries from the impact locking inside his ears making his cock leak like an angry water hose in the horrid summer trying to release everyone from the heat. 
You felt the spurts shoot painfully within you, a new wave of pleasure that shocked you from how long you haven't felt cum coat your cavern. The instance he did, your own eyes bulged out, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ that graced against his.
Both shared moans, swallowing them while trying to breathe and in the process you felt that same flush of pleasure in your lower abdomen. You chased your orgasm, continuing your movement against his cock, overstimulating him to the point he felt an ache with each stroke but if it meant you were feeling good, then so be it.
It wasn’t much longer until you felt that ache as well, slowing down the movement of your hips, your grip loosening from him but his didn’t on you. Upon stopping your actions, Mark brought you face closer, his lips leaving sloppy kisses along your temple and side of the face, while his praises spilled like a lullaby.
“ You did so good …” He huffed out, kisses on your cheek. “ You did so good for me, princess .” He swallowed trying to regain his breath, forehead connecting with yours in the process of trying to calm yourself down as well.
“You’re so good to me, y/n. You’re too good to me, you were made for me, you’re mine.” He chuckled, patting your cheek to make sure your fluttering eyes looked into his round doe ones. You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you an opportunity to do so. 
With a quick and final kiss from him, Mark took you into an embrace, arms tightly around you with no way to free yourself from it (not like you wanted to at the moment) leaving you to simply return the gesture and hold onto him tightly. His cock still buried in you.
You could hear his heartbeat fighting to calm down but having you this close to him wasn’t much help. In that instance it all came crashing down on you and him. His once happy smile fell the moment clarity came in and the trees outside rustled. Their wind chimes slipping in between branches and leaves, repeating the same thing he’s already processing. There was some shame but no guilt or regret. He felt pity for Hyuck and the friendship they had. It all came to one conclusion: 
He’s betrayed his brother.
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if you liked 'happy together' then you'll like: airbag
please let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 or fill out the taglist form in the masterlist! no blank or ageless blogs!
taglist: @haknyeonsju @bbymatz
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moog-rt · 8 months
Text
ᴄʏʙᴇʀʙᴜʟʟʏ [ʀɪꜱᴇ!ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴘᴛ. 5
Links to parts: one two three four five
Summary:
Fate brought you and that purple-clad turtle together in the form of endless battles of code. You were a purple dragon recruit, and he was your target. He plays your games as you tease him with the slim possibility of victory.
You may just let him win if you are feeling particularly merciful.
Notes:
enemies to lovers; slow burn; takes place after the movie; reader is a 'villain'
Word Count: 3351
If you’d prefer to read it on Ao3, here’s the link:
ᴄʏʙᴇʀʙᴜʟʟʏ [ʀɪꜱᴇ!ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
Otherwise, enjoy!
♡ ♡ ♡
Your hands were shoved deep into your jacket pockets as you trudged your way to the coffee shop just down the road from campus. If the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your boots hadn’t been indicator enough, the biting cold morning air was telling that autumn had arrived in full swing.
The bell above the entryway rang as you opened the door to the cafe and got in line to order. The warm atmosphere was much needed as you could finally take out your hands and rub them on your chilled cheeks. Your nose felt like ice.
After paying, you scoured the main room for a seat. Practically every table was occupied by people your age with their noses in laptops and textbooks.
With autumn comes midterms…
You slipped into a seat at a table that someone else had just relinquished and brushed off the leftover crumbs. The tabletop itself was a small circle but it sat two people, which was all that mattered. You got your laptop and notes set up as you waited for your order to be called. With how little sleep you were getting recently, it would be near impossible to start studying without some caffeine. It felt like your brain was packed with cotton balls.
You were in the middle of sighing and rubbing the sleep from your eyes when your name was finally called out. It was hard for you to care as the seat screeched out as you stood to go get your drink. However, many eyes bore into you for the disruption as you shuffled over to the counter.
“Here you are,” the barista said sweetly.
Fingers brushing against each other as you took the warm beverage from her grasp, you met her gaze and smiled back.
“Thank you,” you hummed.
As soon as you sat down and took your first sip, you could feel life rushing back into your veins. It was like all the clouds filling your brain had finally dissipated. The steam that escaped from the cup helped to thaw your nose.
You put on your headphones–opting for your own choice of music over the playlist the cafe employees were playing–and got to work as you waited for your friend to arrive. As was your routine for the past couple of weeks. Stay up late making deals with your archnemesis, peel yourself out of bed bright and early to go to this cafe, study with April until your brains felt like they were sufficiently rotted away, and scurry to class together. Sometimes you liked to sprinkle in a Purple Dragon meeting here and there.
Ever since your first deal had been made, you had offered more, and Von Ryan had reluctantly agreed. Several rounds of a variety of games stole away the majority of your nights. They were fun, but on top of classwork and purple dragon assignments, you were being zapped of your life force. 
You found that you also had to fight a lot harder to actually win. You hadn’t expected your opponent to kick your ass at games as much as he did.
Your ego took quite a few blows as a result.
To make matters worse, it felt like none of your jokes ever landed with the guy. You knew they were funny. At least some of them were. He was just too stubborn to admit it!
“So serious…” you murmured to yourself, mindlessly scrolling through a study guide your professor had emailed the class.
“Yeah, I swear they’re tryna kill us.”
You jumped slightly and took off your headphones as you looked up from your screen. Before you stood a heaving April, a sheen of sweat decorating her forehead.
“God, it’s hot in here,” she said as she shrugged her jacket off and sat down across from you.
“Girl, are you alright? Did you run here from the gym or something?” You started moving your belongings so that she had more room on her side of the table to put her belongings. “I thought you were free before this.”
“I was .” She waved her hand at you while she caught her breath. “But my pals called me up to help out with something…This morning was just a bit of a rush…” She released a breathy laugh, shaking her head.
Your eyes squinted as you grinned at her. “Sounds like a fun way to start your day.”
She let out an incredulous laugh in response.
“Don’t even get me started.” She unpacked her study materials, brushed her bangs from her face, and placed her palms on the table as she looked back at you. “Alright, I’m gonna grab something to drink and then we can dig into things. That sound good? You want anything?”
“Ready when you are,” you said, lifting your drink to show her you were taken care of.
It didn’t take long before she joined you again, opening up her laptop and flipping through her pages of biology notes.
“So what did you need to help your friends with so early in the morning?” you asked, tilting your head and shooting her a curious look.
“Hm?” Her eyes shot up to meet yours before darting off to the side. “Uh… They got themselves into trouble as they usually do, so they called me up for help since they’re kind of a man down, so to speak.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
“You live a wild life, April. I’m jealous,” you said.
“Be careful what you wish for,” she scoffed. “Now, enough stalling. We gotta get to work.”
You threw your head back and groaned dramatically.
“If I must!”
The next hour or so was filled with the silence of reading, frequent buzzing of notifications, and the occasional exchange of questions regarding subject materials. Every now and then, however, your questions would go unanswered as your friend was too distracted by her phone to hear you. After the fifth time of speaking to a wall paired with April’s solemn expression, your curiosity had finally eaten away at you.
“Everything alright? Who are you texting?” you asked as you rested your chin in your palm.
“Mm…” Your friend didn’t look away from her phone until she had finished typing. “Oh, um, just a friend… Donnie, actually.”
“Oh! How has he been?”
She sighed and placed her phone down whilst rubbing at her face.
“Better. He’s been better.”
You bit the inside of your cheek and dropped your gaze before April continued.
“Poor guy has been holed up in his room for the past month. He’s barely sleeping. It seems like he only eats if someone tears him away from his computer and forces him to… He’s just not taking care of himself.” She shook her head. “Worse is he’s not really letting us help him either… God, it just sucks having to watch your friends fall apart, you know?”
You were quiet. You watched her as she let her head fall into her hands. You found it more comfortable to look out the window instead.
“I’m sorry,” you said, fiddling with your jacket sleeve.
“Nah.” April raised her head, shaking it and offering you a soft smile. “It’s not like you could have done anything. We just gotta wait for him to either talk to us or power through it, I guess.” “I– Still.” You looked back at her, swallowing. “I’m really sorry. …That sounds difficult.”
And you were sorry. Sorry that you hadn’t dug into his connections sooner. Sorry that it was having a negative effect on April.
Sorry that you failed to consider the consequences of what you were doing.
Yes, you began offering him deals to help him out, but even then, it was mostly self-serving. Because you were getting bored? Because it gave you some new form of entertainment? Because you didn’t want April to be mad at you if she found out?
You could have stopped altogether. Should have . After the first deal. After you finished your first assignment.
But you didn’t.
And now the results of your actions were smacking you in the face.
“Anyways, let’s get started!” April said, clapping her hands together.
You nodded.
The chatter from the other tables combined with the cafe music and ringing from the entry bell served as white noise for you and April to find a rhythm to work to. The two of you began discussing the semester-long project for your bio class. April pulled up the rubric, and you began brainstorming possible subjects and hypotheses you could address. Planning away until it was time to head to class, you wrapped up the study session with a rough proposal.
Your routine from then on had been altered.
You continued to meet with April in the mornings. However, when you didn’t have a meeting with the purple dragons to stay up-to-date on plans, your nights were filled with studying and essays and projects. You made more time to play games with your friends, too. Your bedroom was filled with laughter and shouts and gory sound effects from the assortment of games you’d play with them.
The Purple Dragons’ interests had long since shifted from Donnie to various tech companies. The most recent discussions had been surrounding TCRI. The facility was rumored to have technology that seemed to not even be of this planet. The possible technological advancements the group could gain from them far outweighed that of the mutant turtle.
You had finally released your hold on Othello Von Ryan.
Only on nights like this, where you and April had plans to meet up and do school work, was there a chance that you would interact with him.
Every other minute, you checked your phone for an update on April’s arrival. You had gone down to the lobby of your apartment building to wait for her. It was the first time she was meeting at your place, and you knew that the process to get up there was a bit of a hassle.
You kept your eyes peeled for her after receiving a text saying she was just down the block. You noticed her burgundy space buns through the glass doors before anything else, but upon closer inspection, you caught sight of another figure following her to the doors. You thought for a moment that they’d walk through together, but she spun around and began shoving the person in the oversized hoodie out of frame.
All you could see now was April aggressively pointing in the direction she had come. The hood popped back into view, peering in and looking directly at you before turning away dejectedly. You leaned slightly to the side to see if you could catch a glimpse of them, but they had already walked far enough away that you couldn’t see.
You stood up to greet April as she came inside.
“Were you being harassed?” you asked, shooting her a concerned look.
“Hah, it depends on your definition of harassment! That was Donnie. He has been begging to tag along and just will not take no for an answer,” April said. You raised your eyebrows.
“ That was Donnie?” you asked with a high-pitched tone. April shook her head and chuckled.
“Yeah, don’t think too much about his fashion sense. I swear he scrambled out after me as fast as he could. Threw on whatever was closest to him,” she explained, waving her hand around.
“He wasn’t wearing anything while you were with him?” you questioned. “Are you guys…like…?”
It took April a moment to catch on to what you were trying to suggest. Her eyebrows shot to the top of her forehead and her eyes were wide as saucers as she whipped around to face you. 
“Oh my god , no!” She waved both her hands in front of her, shaking her head vigorously. “He–uh–just wasn’t dressed for the weather! We weren’t doing anything crazy. Ugh, I don’t even want to think about that.”
April looked like she was about to hurl. She may have been dry-heaving a little bit, too. 
“Oh! That makes total sense!” Your face burned as you looked away and laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, my mind jumped straight there…”
The two of you laughed it off on the elevator ride to one of the upper floors of the building. With a quiet chime, the doors opened up straight into your home.
It was designed to be fairly open and modern. Wide, white marble tiles spread across the floors, and the walls across from you were filled with large windows that framed the city almost perfectly. A sleek set of stairs wrapped around the edge of the area, leading to the upper level of the penthouse.
“What on Earth…” April gawked.
“My, uh, my room’s upstairs,” you said, looking away awkwardly.
“Nuh-uh, you did not tell me y’all had money! An apartment should not have an upstairs. This is wild!” she said as she followed you up the stairs.
“Both of my parents are fairly successful business people…” you explained as you opened the door for her to enter your room. 
It was bright from the various LED lights and signs that you had strewn about to decorate. The gradient colors bounced across your walls and furniture. April wandered over to the edge of your room that looked over the city.
“Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to live in a place like this,” she said, throwing her bag on the floor next to your bed. “Totally unreal.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind a roommate,” you chuckled. “It would be nice to get a bit of that college experience everyone loves to talk about.”
“Oh, I feel you. I’m living off-campus, too. Really feels like I’m missing out sometimes,” April said, plopping down on your bed. “Though I don’t think you’d be able to decorate your room like this if you were living in a dorm.”
“You’re totally right. I don’t think I’d be able to live without my decor,” you joked, taking a seat at your desk.
“It reminds me a lot of how Donnie decorates.”
You turned to her with a smile.
“Oh, really? He’s a big fan of LEDs, too?”
“That and the color purple, mostly,” she chuckled. “The guy knows what he wants.”
While you were on the topic, you had been wondering…
“How has he been recently?” you asked. “I remember the last time we chatted, you said he wasn’t doing so hot.”
“ So much better. Everything seems to have gone back to normal for now. He’s getting out a lot more than he was, and I think his eye bags are almost gone!” She grinned.
“I’m glad to hear that!” You smiled in return.
You really were. It had been weighing on your mind quite a bit ever since she had told you. You wish you could go back in time and leave him alone rather than torment him for your own amusement, but obviously, that wasn’t an option. Knowing that he had relative peace of mind now made you feel a little bit better.
You and April eventually turned the conversation back to your classes and got to work on your project. You had turned in the final draft of your proposal a couple days ago and were starting on the actual data collection. Together you dug through previously published papers that could provide additional information for you to work with.
You would take breaks every once in a while to grab snacks or watch stupid videos on social media. It wasn’t uncommon for one of you to become sidetracked, which would inevitably lead the other astray shortly after.
At some point, your little siblings had barged in, somehow sensing that there was a new presence in the house. They had a field day with April, and luckily she didn’t seem to mind them at all. Eventually, you had to boot them out of the room so you could keep getting work done.
When it seemed like you had gotten sufficient materials to use for your project, April suggested giving Donnie a call just to double-check that you guys weren’t missing anything. He answered almost immediately.
“You are conversing with Donatello,” his voice sang through.
“Hey, D,” April greeted. “We were just doing some work for our big bio project. Are you free to look over some of the notes and sources we’ve collected?”
“April, you know I am always available if data collection and scientific articles are involved.”
April rolled her eyes dramatically, and you both chuckled quietly so he wouldn’t hear. April proceeded to list off all the information you had gathered so far and summarized the experimental design you had decided on. He hummed along as he listened, providing some feedback here and there regarding what you two could focus more on or different articles you could reference.
“I’ll send you links to a few that I think will be particularly helpful. As a whole, however, it seems you have done quite a good job. The information you have accumulated thus far is reputable and will certainly validate your study,” Donnie stated. “Consider me impressed.”
“I’d hope so! We’ve put a lot of time into this,” you laughed. It was the first thing you said since the call started.
“Ah, there is my favorite disciple!” he began.
“Boy, if you don’t knock that shit off, I swear!” April huffed.
“You know, I was going to grace you with my presence tonight, however, April here told me I was unwelcome,” he spat.
The two proceeded to get themselves into a silly argument over he-said-she-said. You watched quietly with a soft smile gracing your lips. You wanted to join in the argument for fun, teasing and joking where you could, but it felt so wrong to do. Knowing the role you played in his life, whether he knew it was you or not, made you feel like a fraud for acting friendly with him.
Eventually, April and Donnie’s little squabble subsided, and you said your goodbyes. You and April added the articles Donnie sent over and called it a night. After walking her back down to the lobby, you returned to your room to vegetate.
You lied on your bed, watching the gradient lights change as they danced across your ceiling. You had wired all of the lighting to be in sync, alternating between various shades of blue, purple, and pink. You would switch up the color combinations if you got bored or if you needed something to fit the mood of the night a bit better.
April said Donnie’s setup was similar. If you two actually knew each other–as friends rather than opponents–you were sure that you’d have a field day chatting to him about the things he’s created. Judging by the blueprints you had stolen, your silly little light fixtures were probably child’s play for someone as technologically advanced as him.
You may not be friends, and the chances of you becoming friends were probably slim to none, but at the end of the day, you felt grateful to know that someone like him actually existed. Your world was beyond that of 9-5 office jobs, school, and circuitry. There were still mysterious people like him, part turtle and part… something else that you weren’t sure of.
Your world wasn’t as boring as you had feared, and you felt lucky to know that.
An alarm began sounding from your phone, causing you to jump. Scrambling across your bed, you picked up the device to see what was happening.
Apparently, there was an attack on the Purple Dragon’s network.
You looked over at your desktop. You hesitated for a moment before crawling over and sitting down at it. It didn’t take long for you to negate the attack and reinforce some of the security on the network as well as the servers.
Tracing back the IP of the attacker through various VPNs, it was no surprise to see that it was Donnie on the other end. Your heart jumped at the opportunity. It wouldn’t be so bad for you to make another offer to him if he was the one initiating, would it?
♡ ♡ ♡
76 notes · View notes
prttykittes · 5 months
Note
I’ve been brain rotting about fluff kenji, baking w reader><!! like it reminds me of the song stir & mix 💗 if u could do that I’d be so thankful <33! It just seems so cute -mwa! Kisses and hugs by Miko!
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Of course!! Yeah you go friend, I love Kenji he's so silly and I love him he's so sweet also I love stir and mix :33
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ෆ Kenji X(&) GN!reader[you/your]
CW. Food, baking, romantic & platonic, bad baking
A/N :: So here, I written two versions of this, one with reader liking kenji(reader is kenjis age), there other one with reader liking an ada member while Kenji helps them bake :) — written by a minor
[MASTERLIST] — (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ works in link!
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KENJI (Romantic, reader is kenjis age) —
You're next to him, giving stuff from the fridge, which was brought by the ada workers. You asked them to buy stuff for baked goods! You grab a mixing bowl, you wanted to make cupcakes with him. He grabbed a book and begins to read it or so you thought, he didn't read all of it just some. "I am excited!" He says, you both start to bake. He was next to you, your face was heating up. You were slightly nervous about confessing to him at the end, would he see this was a friendship thing?! I mean he probably would, he's so nice and why make him bake cupcakes for himself?! You felt like a dumby but he seemed to have fun and you had fun, you have the tin and he pours in the batter. He smiles and places it in the oven, you put on a timer as you both wait. You were waiting in the office, playing cards. He left for a bit and tried to bring in his cow, but kunikida came in the room at the wrong time... So he got mad and pushed the cow out of the room, Kenji left again to put away his cow until he was gone. "Kenji, I have—" you got cut off by a beeping sound, he got up fast. His eyes shining in glee, you smiled and went behind him, he opens the oven. He grabs it out, he places it on the table. You both begin to decorate it, yours was better and his was messier but yeah it's the thought that counts! You both made a mistake, the icing was melting...Finally after it was cool-down, you replace the icing. It was a bit better, you both sat down. You both made lots, probably could be fed to the whole office! "It tastes good!" Kenji says, his mouth stuffed with cupcakes, you giggled. Your heart was racing, you could hear it. This was your time to do so. "Kenji, I-I have a crush on you!"
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KENJI (Platonic, reader is inlove with an ada member and Kenji helps them bake) —
"Kenji!" You cried, you stopped infront of him, he smiles and looks up at you. "What is it, {yourname}!" He says, you smile and let out a sigh, he was the perfect one to do this with! "Can you help me bake some cupcakes!" You asked, your heart was pumping. You were excited to bake cupcakes for your loved one! Oh how happy they were going to be!! And make extras for the rest, you guess. "Of course, I can!" Kenji gets up and you smiled, he follows you. You grab stuff, placing them on the table. You hoped that none will spoil your surprise or worse! Your loved one sees you baking for them, the surprise will be ruined! You were overthinking while Kenji figures out stuff, he cracks eggs. "Let's stir!" You yell out, pouring everything into the two bowels, you begin stirring and mixing. He tries to copy your movements but you were too fast, your hands stirring the mixer. "Don't go too fast! Your spilling the batter." He says with worry, you smile and continue but slower. Finally you two were done, pouring the batter into the tins. Putting them inside the oven which you did because you were worried that he was going to burn himself. You played cards, talked, played with cow to waste time. Finally the time was done, you got up but Kenji was faster. He didn't even grab oven mittens! "Kenji! Be careful!" You say, but he grabbed it. He hissed and places it on the table, whew atleast he didn't drop it! You opened a window so the cold air gets in. You got the icing, you and him begins to decorate the cupcakes. "Would my darling enjoy this!" You asked in worry, you were nervous now. Realizing what if they didn't enjoy it!! "Don't worry, I bet they will!" He said, you let out a shaky breath. You hope he is right!
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ihavemanyhusbands · 19 days
Note
The song "I think I need someone older" keeps playing in my head when I think of either Hannibal or Duncan 🫠
The brain rot is getting worse im afraid 💀older fictional men just are ughh it's like crack
Perhaps a Hannibal or Duncan x reader with age gap and some angst but then fluff??? 🙏🏻
Thinking along the lines of they're out together. Doing some basic life stuff and some guy around readers age is like "oh you out with your dad?" But I think tho it would piss them off they would handle it differently. Could see Duncan breaking his nose
Hope your having a wonderful day ♡
~ 🔮
I changed a small detail but i hope you like it hehe
I hope you are too ❤️
(Cw: mild violence)
———
Duncan saw the guy pestering you as soon as he emerged from another aisle. You were tense, clearly trying to keep your distance as you picked some produce.
“Come on, what’s the big idea? I’m just giving you a compliment,” the creep was saying.
“Like I said, not interested,” you said, tone firm.
“Don’t be such a bi—”
At that moment, Duncan approached, staring him down.
“What’s going on here?” He asked, standing close to you.
“What’s it to you, old man? You her dad or something?” The creep scoffed, looking him up and down. “Why don’t you leave us alone and then we can properly meet when I’m your son in law?”
Duncan took a step forward, furious, fists balled at his sides. But before he could even swing, you turned towards the creep and kneed him hard in the groin.
He let out a pained yowl, bending forward as his hands flew to his crotch. “You fucking bitch!”
“That’s twice you’ve called me that. You’re lucky that’s all I did,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Come on, honey. Someone else can take care of the trash.”
Duncan had a surprised and amused look on his face, but he slid his arm over your shoulders as he guided you away.
“I taught you well,” he said proudly.
You smiled, tilting your chin up. “Of course, you know I can take care of myself, too.”
“I never doubted it for a single second.”
——-
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ddarker-dreams · 2 years
Text
Invocation. Yan Childe x Reader
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Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, manipulation o’clock. Word count: 2.6k.
Takes place in the shared Harbinger AU. 
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You thought jokes were supposed to be funny.
Humor is, at its core, subjective and dependent upon the interpreter. What fell flat for some might tickle the fancy of another. You can wrap your brain around that much, yet there’s plenty you’re left uncertain about. There’s a dead weight cupped in your hands, held with the same reverence one would their newborn child, but without any of the joy and celebration. In the gemstone’s multifaceted gleam, your reflection is split throughout multiple surfaces. No matter what angle you incline it toward, your expression stays consistent; the same dreary physiognomy you speed past mirrors to avoid viewing. Just for a different reason now.
Indeed, you believe this to be the ultimate joke that could descend upon the tragedy that is your life.  
All that’s missing is laughter — specifically your laughter — since you’re the one this comedy gold must be intended for. Its captive audience. Eventually, you do just that. Exhaling sharply through your nose in what technically constitutes a chuckle. Hah, hah.
To anyone eavesdropping by the thin walls, however, it would sound far more like a choked cry.
Wooden floorboards burdened with age groan outside your room, immediately placing you on high alert. The subject of your scrutiny is tossed haphazardly in a nightstand’s drawer, and despite your frantic response, you manage to obscure it beneath personal belongings. While the doorknob starts to twist, you shut the drawer and resituate yourself. You throw your legs over the bedside, so that it would seem as if you were just about to get up; there wasn’t enough time to fake slumber. A lesson gleaned from personal experience.
The door opens with a particularly grating creak, that likely would’ve roused you had you been laying down. It's still preferable to being snuck up on, you suppose.
“Good evening, sleepyhead,” Childe greets, all smiles and cheer. You try to match his enthusiasm with a closed-mouth smile of your own. “So you’re awake then? That’s awfully convenient for me. I know you must be tired from the long day, but it was starting to get a little lonely, you know? I was gonna use food as an excuse to wake you up.”
At this, your focus drops from his eyes to the tray with a steaming bowl in his hands. The brothy liquid fills the room with what should be a salivating scent, fresh herbs and vegetables likely boiled for hours permeating throughout. In your state of borderline nausea, it’s more noisome than a decomposing corpse, to the point bile crawls up your throat. You swallow back down into the abyss of your twisting stomach. It’s a small blessing that you have nothing to regurgitate since you ate light the past few days, in expectation of your upcoming travel. There was nothing worse than traveling while sick. Or so you thought.
Invasive species that he is, he sits himself down close enough for your thighs to brush.
Realizing you have yet to respond, you speak the first words that come to mind. “You’d wake me up even if you didn’t have an excuse.”
It’s a good thing that you’re not dealing with one of the other more manic Harbingers. Speaking with so little respect would land you in boiling water had it been anyone else, but Childe seems to revel in the casual nuance of your interactions. Hence his insistence on you calling him by his given name, Ajax, and the absurd lengths he goes to so this ‘relationship’ might feel more natural. You almost prefer he didn’t bother.
No matter how pretty a veneer he paints, there’s no hiding rot that runs so deep.
He laughs at your bluntness, the skin beneath his eyes crinkling from mirth. “You caught me! Ah, can you blame me though? You’re just too precious when you first wake up. At your most unguarded, even. I never know what might slip through that mouth of yours… you wouldn’t deny me such a simple pleasure, would you?”
“If I could, maybe.”
“If you could,” he reiterates, finding that he likes how he sounds. He nods. “See, this is exactly what I mean. It’s a shame that the others don’t share my view. What’s the point of having you around if they force you to act like a lifeless doll? Can’t say I’ll ever get it.”
Childe crinkles his nose, losing interest in the topic as if he wasn’t the one who decided to go there in the first place. “Anyway, let’s get some sustenance in you. You’ve hardly eaten since we left Zapolyarny Palace. I’ll take it personally if you start up a food strike when it’s my turn to have you all to myself.”
The words are spoken lightly, though you know they’re anything but. Admittedly, you prefer the home-cooked nature of the cuisine you get when you’re with Childe when compared to the other options. The luxurious food Pantalone forced upon your palate was nothing short of misery by the time you got to the sixth course, and you still shudder whenever Dottore wheels in some unknown gelatin-like substance that he claims to be rich in nutrients.
Childe seems to be in an agreeable mood, so you decide to take your chances.
“... Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t hungry?”
It isn’t a lie. If you said you felt sick, he might be able to deduce there’s more at play, but this feels vague enough to be safe.
“Probably, but that doesn’t take away from the fact you need food,” Childe shrugs. You know there’s no point in arguing further and don’t bother stirring up the hornet’s nest.
All seems to be going as well as it can be, until he gets up, heading in the direction of your incriminating nightstand. Your eyes flitter around to focus on anything else so you don’t seem overly interested in the object, provoking his suspicion. It doesn’t matter that you’ve witnessed so many proficient actors who still manage even when they go off script. You’re not a Harbinger; someone who can switch between numerous masks depending on which would benefit them most.
Your body betrays you, your muscles going taut like the bowstring Childe favors wielding. He takes immediate notice of this. You don’t know because you can see him, you know because you can feel him. His gaze lingers on your form, assessing it in the same way he would an opponent on the battlefield. Your fingers curl into your palm. In trying to avoid drawing unwanted attention to the nightstand, you came off far too unnatural. Refusing to look in the general direction of it as if the sight would turn you to stone wasn’t the best idea. What were you supposed to do? You had no reason to believe he’d venture over there. Had you known, it wasn’t like you had the luxury of finding a better hiding spot.
While you focus on forcing your next breath out, he returns to his former position, the bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other.
What little appetite you’d managed to work up in the past few minutes dissipates in an instant.
Wordlessly, he dips the spoon into the cloudy broth, gathering a generous helping, then raising it to your quivering lips. In what feels like an involuntary action on your behalf, you part them, allowing him to carry out his unspoken command. It’s seasoned to perfection and a well-balanced blend between all the savory ingredients without being overwhelming. Despite this, you barely manage to force it down, your body protesting at every turn. Why can’t your own physiology be on your side? Who else do you have on your side if not for yourself?
The two of you fall into a rhythm of sorts. It’s quiet, save for the howling of the wind beating on the cabin outside and your occasional swallowing. There’s a fire in the hearth just a few feet away that does little to stave off your shivering. You thought you hated it when Childe talked — it’s only now that you’re learning his silence is infinitely worse. He’d normally be regaling you with some tales of his bloody exploits, or speaking fondly about his siblings who long to see you again.
Such senseless chatter would do much to soothe your rapidly fraying nerves. It’s as if he knows this and chooses to hold his tongue, scrutinizing you with the same dead eyes you saw in your reflection earlier.
“... Hey, [First],” he starts, his voice more frigid than the wintry tempest outside, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
This couldn’t be further from the truth. If it was, then oh, did you have plenty to say. Or scream at the top of your lungs, depending. That isn’t what he’s hinting at or trying to steer the conversation toward. You’re far past the point of assuming he wants you to be too human — for if he saw your real colors, the palette would blind him with its unsightliness.
You nod, the subtle motion almost enough to throw off what little equilibrium remains in your body.
“Anything at all.”
“... Mhm.”
Your ears are ringing. Though you remain perfectly still, the room is spinning, coming together to form a mocking dance around your person. You never would’ve bothered praying had you known this would be how it was answered. For the longest time, you decided the divine took no interest in your plight, or else they would have lent you some assistance. Cast a thin spider thread to climb up from your pit of suffering.
Remaining in the pit is looking better by the second.
“Absolutely anything,” Childe’s smile is all teeth. Somehow, your next nod feels stiffer than its predecessor. A corpse would move more naturally.
“I’m only going to ask these questions only once. Be good for me and answer honestly, okay? Alright. Is there something in this room that shouldn’t be here?”
Another nod.
“Can you point to where it is for me?”
You can and you do.
“Top drawer?”
A headshake.
“The middle drawer?”
A nod.
You’ve never liked crying in this climate, so you’ve made it a personal mission not to when possible. The cold has its way of sneaking into your lungs and making each breath painful. There’s the sensation of your tears freezing to your face as soon as they fall, forming crystalline patterns against raw skin. You didn’t think such a feat was possible. Anything goes in this desolate land, you suppose. So long as it reminds its inhabitants that they’re at the mercy of an uncaring higher power.
“This is… oh. Now I get it. Huh. Would you look at that?”
He holds the offending item up to the light to see it better and whistles.
“Yeah, I could see how this might end up being a problem,” his debonair tone is no match for the gravity of the situation. “Guess you won’t need to worry about being cold ever again, though. What? Not even a smile? I thought it was kinda funny.”
In his gloved hand rests the key that will open the door to untold misery. Right in the middle is a bright, red hot gemstone, with golden embellishments forming the shape of wings curving out along the sides. It radiates a faint light from being brought closer to your presence. The very item few are blessed with and almost all the population longs for, at some point or another in their lives: a Vision. Acknowledgment from the heavens of your innate worthiness to possess a fraction of their power.
That’s just the thing — a fraction isn’t enough. Not when your opponents can overthrow the court of heaven itself.
“This is normally one of the most memorable moments in a person’s life,” Childe muses. “You don’t look too thrilled, though.”
“I don’t want it.”
Your lap becomes a sudden point of interest since you can no longer stomach the taunting sight of a salvation too inadequate.
“Why is that?”
“Why?” You repeat the word, your voice escalating in volume, “I’m scared, Ajax. Fucking— fucking horrified. I don’t know what to do. I don’t, I really don’t. The others, oh gods, the others… what will they think… what are they going to do to me when they find out…?”
Hysteria has wrapped its sickening tendrils around you, digging deep into your skin and spreading its venom. A thousand possibilities flood your mind, each one more of a nightmare than the last. The worst kind of nightmares are those who can plausibly sneak into reality. Would the more unhinged of the bunch think this a sign of you conspiring against them? Will there be punishment? And if so, how far would they go? Can you expect to ever live a second unmonitored again? For this gives you just enough strength to potentially make yourself a nuisance.
“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” Childe pulls you to him in the first embrace you’ve found somewhat comforting in a long time. “There, let’s steady our breathing. I know it’s hard, just try for me if you wouldn’t mind. In and out. Nice and easy. In… and out… there you go… good job, you’re doing perfect, look at you.”
Numbness usurps mania and sits itself upon the throne it once sat. He cradles you against his chest, resting his chin atop your lowered head, running warm hands up and down your trembling arms. It’s pleasant — being doted on like this is nice. You allow yourself to be drawn in. You’ve been strong for so long, a chance to be weak is too tempting to pass up on. Pride is nowhere in the picture as you succumb to his soothing touch. 
When he feels you’re ready to broach the subject without instantly crumbling, he speaks up softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “I’ll take care of it.”
This piques your interest but mostly your doubt.
“How?”
“Leave that detail to me,” he squeezes your limp body, like a snake would a mouse. “It might not be the easiest thing to hide… doesn’t mean it’s impossible though. Far from it. This’ll be our little secret. However, if I do this for you, you know you’ll need to cooperate with me, right? Be willing to do anything I ask?”
“I don’t know… could I pull something like that off?”
“With me you can. I’ll take care of everything. But I really need your answer, [First]. This is important. Can you trust me? There’s a lot I’m going to need to ask of you for us to pull this off successfully.”
“... Okay,” you decide, breathless. Then again, louder this time, your resolve firm. “Okay. I-I think I can do this.”
What other choice do you have, anyway?
You hear him shuffle behind you. He then holds his bare pinky finger out, having discarded his glove elsewhere. Unblinkingly, you focus on the pale digit, unsure what exactly his intentions are. At your perplexion, he chuckles right by your ear. You don’t get what’s so funny. Maybe you never will.
Or maybe you’re just the butt of the joke.
“A pinky promise with your favorite Harbinger,” he hums, his voice singsong. Why does he sound so happy? How can he sound so happy? “Well? You’re not going to make me hold it here forever, are you? I might just get frostbite if you don’t warm me up.”
Obedient, you curl your finger around his.
“Alright, now repeat after me. You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice…”
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alexiaugustin · 1 year
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season two of shadow and bone should have shown absolutely every last fucking person that this show is a soulless piece of trash adaptation that doesn’t understand nor gives two fucks about the source material they're allegedly trying to adapt and that the people behind this show were all lying to your faces when they apologized for the things that upset people for 24 hours before season one streamed two years ago, because after all this show still erases the trauma of a woman’s sexual abuse story and they are still sexualizing bisexual people and they are still fucking everything about these characters and their dynamics up.
season one should have upset most people enough to stop stanning this show but during the last two years we have learned that there’s A Lot that the tv industry can do that people won’t care about. an ableist, colorist and fatphobic and age inaccurate casting that hurts people by taking their representation away is something people won’t care about. complex characters being reduced to an inch of what they actually are like so they and their relationship can neatly fit into archetypes, tropes and ao3 tags is something people won’t care about. showrunners getting exposed for having their white stunt doubles do brownface is something people won’t care about. a show having a dumb script that makes everyone on the show look like a fucking loser is something people won’t care about.
and now season two is out and they did everything they already did in season one wrong but it’s somehow still so much worse. after watching season one i felt like the deeply offensive and wrong things about this show were still explainable, season two actually has me at loss for words because of how bad it is. because of how there’s not a single thing they did right about the soc books; not the characters, not their relationships, not their storyline, nor the world they live in. i could give a few examples like the fact that kaz told inej that feeling as if she’s not really free from the menagerie where she was sex trafficked as a child "isn’t her fight anymore, it’s his“ just because pekka rollins owns her now. or the fact that wylan and jesper met via a one night stand and were fucking by episode four even tho they don’t even kiss before the end of ck. or that they turned pekka rollins into a super villain who wants to kill kaz even though the whole point of his role in the books is that he has no idea why kaz has it out for him and he doesn’t care abt these teenagers.
i could explain all these and so many more examples in depth, and still it wouldn’t be enough to capture the the true scope of how bad and truly horrible this show is. and yet. and yet when i log into tumblr dot com or twitter dot com i see gifsets of this show, of the relationships they don’t understand, of the characters they butchered and i'm seeing people rooting for another season of this nonsense. at this point this show feels like a social experiment that’s trying to see how far people will go to defend a deeply offensive and atrociously bad piece of media. and during the last 48 hours i've come to realize that some of y'all will never be able to be pushed too far. some of y’all had their brains rotted away a long time ago when tiktok and ao3 made you believe that media is nothing more than the consumption of aesthetics, tropes and archetypes and that it’s a good thing if these are responsible for the death of art. if you claim to love the book and the show at the same time you are lying to yourself because that is simply impossible. you have, in short, truly lost the fucking plot.
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seattlekrakenyaoi · 3 months
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Oh my god, I saw your de-aged Vince Dunn post, and I’m currently having CRAZY brain rot about it because just like ughh. I’m such a sucker for misunderstandings or miscommunication.
Maybe Adam tries to drop hints about the old(er) Vince like times when they were happy together or the fight that they had to try and jog some memory, except it just doesn’t work and makes young Vince feel even worse, since it’s obvious that him being younger is making Adam upset and he desperately wants to fix it even though realistically he can’t.
I’ll be so for real, I would happily read a billion words for this. I love ideas like this, it’s just so silly!!
UGHHHH i love the idea of adam trying to like . jog vinces memory… trying to get him to revert to his old age . taking him to a spot they like to hang out … a bar . and being like. ok now turn back. because he believes there’s some magic fast cure and then getting frustrated but trying to hide it because he knows it’s not vince’s fault . but vince can tell he’s mad anyway and he gets angry with himself because he can’t just snap his fingers and turn back. and he gets angry with adam . but mostly he just feels so sad because he just feels like even the person who supposedly likes him most in the future just wants him gone :( AGH this is so good i feel like i’m legally obligated to write this now .
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