#I just kept all the place and people names

[igorluvr]

'MAY YOU NEVER FORGET ME

PAIRING: choi su-bong (thanos) x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: depression had always been a huge issue for you, covering it up with empty joy. so what would happen if you found someone just like you, who was willing to change for your sake?

WARNINGS: heavy angst, mature themes, mental health issues, implied self harm, depression, panic attacks, insecurities, guns, negative self talk, suicidal thoughts/actions!!!!!!, main character death

AUTHORS NOTE: spoiled y’all with tm fluff, gotta remind u shit ain’t sweet round here.

words: [25k]

YOU were never truly "okay". Even though you always claimed to be, faking a smile when on the inside your whole world felt like it was collapsing. The last thing you wanted was for people to worry about you. Because if they did, they might discover the tangled mess of emotions you kept hidden away. Instead, you committed to putting on a face of bravery, drowning your pain in corny jokes and soulless smiles. While your heart still ached with that same emptiness you'd been feeling for years on end, doing this was easier than trying to explain the darkness that lurked beneath your surface.

You dreaded that one day, your facade would crack and everything would come tumbling down, revealing the emotions you tried so hard to protect everyone from. So, you continued to mask your emotions and if you let your act slip, you’d brush it off and tell them you were just tired. Every lie felt like it was putting more weight on your shoulders, but it was weight you were used to carrying.

Deep down you longed for someone to notice that you weren’t okay, to see beyond the smile and recognize the pain. But you knew that you made it almost impossible for someone to notice that anything was wrong.

Or so you thought, until you stumbled across the explosive personality of a man by the name of Thanos. Honestly, you were jealous of how well he carried himself. He seemed to be one of the only people here that was carefree, even if he is pumped with drugs. Looking at him in awe, you wondered how he did it, staying okay in a place like this.

Even though your mind was hyper focused on the eccentric man, you were completely unaware of how you stood out to him almost immediately. It wasn’t because you were annoying and obnoxious like everyone else here, it was because you two were the same.

You had some major personality differences, as you were more on the quiet and bubbly side. But Thanos used to be just like you. So the smile fading when all eyes were off of you, random mood swings, nonstop jokes, constantly tugging your sleeves down the second they rolled up, tears swelling in your eyes when nobody was around. He noticed.

He never got better, though. Just found ways of dealing with it. Using drugs and music as outlets of his depression. Thanos could tell you didn’t have anything like that, just letting all the pain seep in and build up inside of you. He wanted to help you before it got too much, how it almost did for him.

As he approached you, a confused look formed on your face. You’d never said anything to him or saw him look your way, so why was he suddenly trying to talk to you?

“What’s got you in here, babydoll?” he pondered “you look too sweet to be in any debt.”

At first, the sudden interest in your background confused you. You stared blankly for a couple seconds before remembering that you knew nobody else here, so what was the harm in opening up to this complete stranger?

“Student loan debt. Guess that’s what I get for going to an ivy league with barely any money” You laugh. Even though this was sort of a sensitive topic for you, having got into your dream school still having things going wrong, you tried to laugh about it.

Thanos could tell though. He saw the way your smile faltered a bit, how you lost the shine in your eyes. “I like you, stay close to me okay?” He said, eyes focused on you with nothing but pure intentions.

Why did he choose you of all people? There wasn’t anything interesting about your appearance, or how you acted. In that moment, as Thanos leaned back against the wall and settled in beside you, something shifted inside of you.

It was like the burden that weighed you down for so long was briefly lifted to reveal a sliver of vulnerability you kept buried for years. Maybe this strange man, with his wild presence, could see something you had long hid within yourself; a yearning for connection, a wish for someone to see and understand your struggles.

Thanos had broken through the toughness of your spirit, offering warmth and an unexpected sense of safety. Yet, the fear of being vulnerable with anyone haunted over you like a storm cloud, ready to unleash the emotions and secrets you had kept buried.

“Okay then,” Thanos said, breaking the heavy silence, “What’s the full story? It can’t just be student loans and bad choices. You look like you're carrying a world on those shoulders. But hey, I’m no therapist, just an expert in not fitting in.” His laughter was contagious and the sincerity of his tone made you wonder about the details of his own struggles.

Still, despite how much you wanted to reach out, start crying and finally release the burden you'd been carrying so long, you clung to the familiar comfort of masking how you felt, shooting him a quick smile that fell just short of genuine. It was easier to laugh it off than to reveal the chaos waiting inside.

But Thanos wasn’t easily fooled. He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and sympathy. “You know, I used to think if i pushed everything down and ignored it, nobody else would notice my problems, too.” he said with a hint of vulnerability, “So I can see right through your little act sweetheart.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at the nickname but found the corner of your mouth lifting in a slight smile. Maybe it was the way his sincerity cut through your heart, or how his presence somehow felt comforting, like a thick warm blanket swallowing your body on a chilly day.

Thanos noticed your slight grin and raised an eyebrow, his own growing wider. “See? That’s the smile I like to see, we’re making progress here.” He nudged your shoulder lightly with his large ringed hand. “Come on I won’t bite, open up a little bit. Tell me about yourself like... what do like doing in your free time?”

You chuckled softly, caught off guard by his eagerness. “Um… I guess I like listening to music?” Music was one of the ways you ignored everything. As soon as you put your headphones in, it seemed like the world turned to a blur and your thoughts finally silence.

Thanos nodded, leaning back slightly, as if giving you the space to breathe yet still holding you in his gaze. “Music, huh? I get you. There’s something powerful about it. Like… a way we can hear what our voices can’t always express” he observed, seeming more immersed.

You could feel the walls you had carefully built around your emotions start to break, the cracks appearing as you considered sharing more. “Yeah, it’s like an escape” you admitted, voice softening “When everything else gets too loud, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

He smiled gently, and you could tell he understood the depth of your words. “I get that,” he spoke gently, “It feels good to be able to… find the rhythm in chaos.” His eyes glazed over for a split second, lost in thought, before focusing back on you. “I used to write. Rhymes and lyrics, they were a way to process everything. Like my own therapy session, but with a beat.”

The way he spoke so passionately about making rhymes piqued your curiosity. You didn't take him as the creative type, definitely not poems or lyrics, but there was something about the way he mentioned it that made you want to know more. “You wrote music?” you asked, your tone neutral, but your interest piqued.

Thanos chuckled, low, and rumbling. “Still do, from time to time. Used to be big doing it but that got cut off pretty fast. Tried to let it go but… it's a part of me.” He leaned forward, his eyes taking on an intense glare. “There's something about putting words to a beat that just clicks. Like everything finally makes sense, y'know?”

You found yourself drawn into his passion, the way he spoke about music, it was infectious. And before you knew it, you were smiling again. Feeling a sense of connection with this stranger that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You leaned in, curiosity taking control of you. “What do you mean it got cut off?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was something about how his voice sounded when he said it, as if it were hit with an ache of longing and nostalgia, that made you want to know more.

Thanos’ gaze drifted off, his eyes clouding over like he was remembering something stowed deep into his mind. “I was in a competition, a rap contest” he began, his voice low and cautious. “I made it to the finale, but I fucked up. Forgot my lyrics on live TV.” He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound that sent a wave of sympathy through you. “It was a pretty public embarrassment. After that, I just… lost my drive, I guess. Didn’t feel like I could face the music scene again.”

You tilt your head, your eyes brimming with compassion as imagine how bad Thanos must've felt. “I get why you’d feel that way,” you said gently, trying to offer some advice, “But if music clearly still means a lot to you, why did you stop doing it completely?” you asked with your eyes locked on his, searching for answers in his gaze.

Thanos’ gaze snapped back to yours, like a fire igniting within them. “It’s hard to explain,” he said with a hint of roughness in his voice, “When you're up on that stage, with all those people watching you, and you mess up… it feels like you’re failing in front of the whole world. And for me, it wasn’t just about the music. It was about the persona, the image. When I messed up, it felt like I was losing myself too.” He paused, taking a breath to calm his nerves down. “But even after all this time, I still find myself writing. Like my brain's hardwired to respond to music.”

You felt a connection deepening between you, an understanding that passed the surface-level. “So, do you think you’ll ever perform again?”

Thanos hesitated, his eyes washing over with uncertainty. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice defeated. “Part of me misses it. The thrill of the stage, the energy of the crowd, it was amazing. But I'm also just scared. That failure keeps haunting over me, I don't wanna feel like that again.”

His honesty struck a chord within you. You could see the struggle all on his face, and it made you wish you could help him find that spark again. “It sounds like you're still searching for closure. Maybe you need to reconnect with it,” you suggested tentatively, hoping to encourage him. “Music doesn’t have to be about the fame or the competition. It can just be… for you.”

His eyes twinkled with hope, looking up at you with admiration. "Thank you, seriously," he spoke up, "Never had anyone look out for me like that." Suddenly he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer, his grip warm and reassuring.

From that moment on, you knew you'd made a friend for life. You went everywhere together, always grouping up during games and making sure each other were safe. The two of you were truly inseparable. That was, until the morning of the final game.

There were only 40 contestants left. Having lost many people close to you, shivers ran down your spine as you thought what the last mission would be. Almost every night, you had panic attacks and could barely sleep. After the 2nd game, you and Thanos moved your beds by each other in hopes of it helping the both of you calm down. Tonight, was one of the worst nights for you.

You laid in the dim scenery of the sleeping quarters, blue and red lights bouncing off of the bed frames. Your heart pounded like a drum with each beat echoing your unspoken fears. The weight of uncertainty felt as if it were crushing you, a terrible foreshadowing of the next game looming over your head.

Shadows deepened around you, contorting into horrifying shapes that mirrored the anxieties pounding at your mind. Your breaths came in quick gasps, each one capturing less air than the last. The suffocating fear of what was to come spun out of control.

You tried all the methods that helped in the past, but you couldn't focus on anything. Sweat drenched your body as the oxygen in the room seemed as it were running away from you. In your mind, all you could see were those bodies. All the blood and screams. Only one thought could form in your mind 'what if that were me?'

Beside you, Thanos stirred around, feeling the tension radiating from your body. He turned to face you, eyes flickering open, immediately aware that something was wrong. “Hey,” he murmured softly yet urgently, “what’s going on?”

You had felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, “I can’t… I can’t do this. I’m so scared, Thanos. What if something happens? What if I—what if you.. die?” The words stuttered out in a rush, drenched with panic, the thought of losing him cutting through your heart like a knife.

Thanos’ expression shifted from sleepy to one of deep concern as he moved closer, his presence a calming force against the storm inside you. He gently took your hands inside his, relaxed and cautiously, and held them tightly. “Listen to me,” he said, voice low and soothing, “You’re not alone in this. I promise I’m going to do everything I can to keep us safe, both of us.”

Your breath hitched, but his gaze stayed on yours. “Remember what we talked about? We’ve been through so much together already. We can get through this too. No game is going to take me from you, not now, not ever.”

His words had felt like a lifeline, restoring you back to the world as you clung to them. You searched his eyes, your heart aching at the truth of what was unspoken between you. “But w-what if I lose you?” you choked out, vulnerable and exposed.

“I’ll fight like hell to make sure that doesn’t happen” he replied, “We’re in this together. I’m not just fighting for myself, I’m fighting for you, for us.” He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I won’t let anything break us apart. I… I love you.”

His words floated in the air, a fragile yet meaningful phrase that cut through the thick tension of the moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest, caught off guard by the intensity and sincerity in Thanos’ voice.

You swore off of telling anybody that for a long time. But still, you couldn't help but feel the warmth radiating between you, a spark of connection glowing in the darkness. A wave of emotions crashed over you, joy and confusion mixing in a twister of emotions.

For a split second, all of your worries vanished. What laid ahead, the uncertainty of the games, the horrifying fear of loss. All of it faded away with just his 3 words. You swallowed hard, the weight of your anxiety lifting just enough to let something else in; love.

“Thanos…” you said softly, voice trembling as you searched his gaze. The reality of what he said sank in, wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. You took a breath, steadying your breath, and met his unwavering expression with your own. “I love you too,” you whispered, the words flowing from your heart as if they had always been there, waiting for the right moment to break free.

As soon as you had said it, a wave of relief washed over you. You could see the way his eyes lit up, reflecting authenticity and openness. In that moment, as he pulled you closer, the world outside felt a little less overwhelming. “Us against the world” he muttered into your neck, sealing the bond between you two.

In the safety of his embrace, you lifted your face, letting your forehead rest against his as the tension began to disperse. “No matter what happens, I'm gonna fight for us” you said, your voice steadier now, strengthened by the love that filled the space between you.

His smile widened, showing the strength of his determination in his eyes. “You’re my everything. I won’t let these stupid games take that away from us” he reassured, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

As you sat there, taking in his presence, you felt like it was the perfect time to ask him something that had been on your mind the last week or so. "Thanos," you spoke up, causing his eyes to meet yours again, "what made you come up to me that day?"

His gaze softened a bit, looking down as to avoid eye contact with you. "Well, to be honest, I'm just like you." He admitted. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what he was referring to.

"Y'know, I noticed it as soon as I saw you. I could tell you weren't okay up there, and this place isn't somewhere to be in that state" Oh. You thought you did a good job at hiding it, were you really letting your mask slip that much?

As soon as your mind started racing, Thanos placed his hands on your shoulders. "Hey, its okay. You didn't make it obvious or nothin'. I just didn't want you to get in a bad headspace and not give it your all. I could tell you're strong." He said, eyes flicking down to your wrists.

Quickly, you jerk your arms back. Shit, did they show? You looked back up at Thanos with tears in your eyes, terrified of what he'd think of you now that he saw who you really are. Weak and pathetic

"No no, Its okay. They're beautiful. Shows that you never give up, no matter what." Thanos comforted, face turning pale near the last part. "I'm jealous."

The tears started falling as you took in his words of validation. After years of trying to hide the scars, you finally felt like they were a declaration of your strength rather than a source of shame.

"I've never told anyone this, but now seems like the right time, yea?" He started, causing you to put your full attention on him "You saw my video, right? Of me playing ddakji?"

You chuckled for a bit, "Yea, it was pretty hard to miss"

"Right," he laughed, with a hint of pain. "Before that recruiter found me, I was on a bridge. I felt like I was at the end of my story, ready to let go. Nothing mattered anymore. I lost everything that made me happy. My job, my money, my sense of purpose. I thought I had tried everything else, and there was no other way out."

He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting out toward the blank room. “But then he came out of nowhere, with that stupid fancy suit. He asked if i wanted to play ddakji. Said if I won, he'd give me 100,000 won. It wasn't a lot but its better than nothing right?"

His eyes met yours, a flicker of resistance igniting within them. “I thought, what’s the worst that could happen? If I lost, I’d still be back where I started. But if I won… maybe there was hope after all.”

He ran a hand through his wild purple hair, a mix of relief and regret washing over him. “I never thought calling that number would lead me here, to this moment. It’s crazy how a simple choice can change everything. Y'know, it’s in our darkest moments that we find the light. I’m still scared, but I’m fighting now. For myself, and for those who can’t fight anymore.”

"But I saw you still had that fight in you, you just needed a push. And I wanted to be that for you" Thanos sighed.

Even more tears ran down your face but this time, the same went for him. You never thought that someone would actually take this much effort, especially in a situation like this, to look out for you. You didn't think you mattered that much to anyone.

The two of you laid down in your now shared bed, holding each other tight as to not lose one another, and slowly drifted into sleep.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As the lights slammed on and intercom went off, you felt a familiar void in your stomach. As if on cue, Thanos rubbed your hand gently, bringing you immediate comfort. "Im right here, baby. N' Im not goin anywhere." A slight warmth rushed to your face as his words replayed in your head, maybe everything was gonna be okay after all.

You waited for what seemed like hours for them to bring food out, but it never came. It seemed as if you were getting less and less food as time went on. Was this on purpose to make everyone weaker? You didn't know, but it was definitely taking a toll on you.

Both of you stayed within an arms length of eachother the whole time. Even until they announced everyone to line up to enter the final game.

Thanos walked directly infront of you, holding your hand as you made your way through the stairs splattered with an arrangement of colors. The first time you walked though them, it seemed so colorful and full of life. Now, it just seemed dull.

As you walked into the near pitch-black room with red led lights tracing the walls, you felt your heart drop. Something wasn't right. Your stomach turned in a terrifying way as you held onto Thanos, scared of what's to come.

He's learned your behavior and what your actions mean, causing him to pull you closer. Thanos was aware of how easy you get anxious, and how bad it can get. And he felt as if was his job to protect you from all your worries.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Thanos felt the exact same way. He didn't know exactly what it was, but something about this particular game felt uneasy. In an attempt to stay strong for you, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Don't let go of me okay? Its dark as shit in here I can barely see" He laughed, trying his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Your palms got sweatier by the second as the both of you walked deeper into the room, occasionally bumping into people. Eventually, you heard the instructions come on the speaker.

"Please, split into 4 equal groups based off of your previous votes. Two "X" groups of 10, Two "O" groups of 10. You have 5 minutes" Immediately after, the red lights started blaring, just how they did during the mingle game. Your heart stopped as you heard that. Thanos hadn't gotten a chance to change his vote, were the two of you going to be separated during the final game?

“No!” you cried out, the word bursting from your lips like a desperate plea, hoping something, anything will change. “Thanos, we can't—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his eyes wide with fear, reflecting the same mix of urgency and determination as your own. “We got to find our groups before it’s too late.”

Why? Why was this happening now? Your mind raced as panic set in. The room felt stifling, the air thick with dread and uncertainty. You could feel the tension radiating off the players around you, their whispers and shuffling feet blending into a chaotic symphony of anxiety.

The chilling announcement echoed in your ears “4 minutes remain”

You could feel the pull of the frenzied crowd, the inevitable separation haunting you like a distant nightmare. You pushed through the horde, each step heavier than the last, your heart racing as you caught a glimpse of something, a cluster of players forming with that familiar 'X' patch on their chests.

“Thanos, look!” you shouted, your eyes locking onto the group that was gathered before you. “That’s my group!”

“Go, I’ll find mines.” Thanos urged, his grip on your hand loosening even though his eyes fought against losing you. “Just remember what we talked about. Keep pushing even if it seems impossible. Ill be waiting for you when we get out.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you began to pull away from him. “I can’t believe this is happening...” you whispered to yourself as the despair finally settled in.

With a final hug, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, your hands slipped apart. The distance between you suddenly felt colossal, the amount of space between the both of you increasing with each passing player. Thanos was officially lost to the shadows.

Your heart pounded alarmingly in your chest as you joined the half of your “X” group, forcing yourself to focus despite the panic. You scanned the players, assessing the strength of the new faces around you. Were they reliable? Would they betray you?

A few familiar players joined the formation alongside you, Dae-ho and Jun-hee murmuring quiet reassurances to one another. “We can do this,” The taller man said, eyes darting around the group as the tension thickened.

But as more players continued to merge into smaller clusters, the reality set in, you had to push forward alone, even if your lover felt impossibly distant.

Just as you were being further swept into a crowd of new allies, the loudspeaker croaked out another instruction yet again. “Participants, please stick closely with your chosen group. As you do this, make your way towards the door ahead.”

You took a deep breath, shaky with uncertainty. The door ahead shone like a gateway to the unknown. The murmurs of strategizing and encouragement filled the air, a strange mix of comfort and anxiety filled your body as you tried to tune out everything around you.

Dae-ho nudged you gently, his voice steadying. “Stay focused. We’ll work together and beat this, okay?”

You nodded, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety overwhelming you. “Yeah” You muttered, hearing your heartbeat in your ears, a persistent reminder of the stakes. As each group stepped closer to the door, the pink soldier with a bold circle on it's mask stopped everyone.

"Which group will be going first?" The soldier spoke, in a slightly distorted voice.

After a couple seconds of quiet mutters between every team, the leader of the other X group, the man from the previous games, spoke up.

"We'll go. This might be similar to a game I've done" He announced. Your group swiftly moved out of the way to allow his team to go. One by one, they walked through the door. As soon as the final member made their way through, the mechanical door forced shut, cutting off any view of the inside.

Waiting felt like an eternity. The tension in the air grew thicker as each team member shifted nervously. You could sense the anxiety growing in them. Whispers arose among your group, forming predictions on what may be beyond that door, but none could compare to the despair of reality.

About 10 minutes after the first group entered, they began calling for the next one. As your team was next in line, the guard signaled you all to go inside the door. Your heart dropped as you gave Thanos a final look back, tears in your eyes as you dread what's to come.

The scene infront of you was immersive. The room was bright, like a carnival. There were big glowing lights everywhere. As you stepped through the door, a chilling rush of air slapped against your face, carrying with it an overwhelming sense of dread. Before you knew it, the line of people suddenly stopped, causing you to faceplant into the person before you.

"Wait!" Someone yelled, "We're on a platform.."

As you peaked around the group, you saw how high up you were. There were horizontal poles coming from the ceiling, resembling something that you knew all too well.

"Welcome players. Allow me to introduce you to the sixth and final game: Monkey Bars. The rules are simple. Every member of your team must traverse a series of monkey bars before the timer hits zero. But beware, missing a bar and falling will result in immediate elimination."

As murmurs of fear rippled through the group, you took a deep breath to steady yourself. Even though Thanos had been drawn away, you couldn’t afford to lose. You needed to use all of your strength to complete this game while holding onto hope that you would see him again.

But deep in your gut, you feared that fate had other plans.

You glanced down, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of the distance to the ground. It felt like a dizzying drop, one wrong move could mean the end of everything you fought so hard for. Your teammates exchanged worried glances, each of them struggling with their own fears and doubts.

You could hear the faint beeping in the background, the sound growing louder with each passing second. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you clenched your fists, surveying the area once more so you fully understand what you're getting yourself into.

As the countdown hit zero, the timer's blaring sound echoed through the venue like a gunshot, triggering a surge of chaos. One by one, players launched themselves onto the first bar, swinging forward with determination. They attempted to coordinate their movements, using a tactic similar to the one in the 6-legged race.

With the rhythm of jumping every two counts guiding them, you carefully watched as some moved gracefully while others struggled and faltered, their cries of panic bouncing off the walls. The sight of watching your peers slowly fall to their death put a sick feeling in your stomach, the mushy 'splat!' as they hit the floor making you want to throw up.

Before you knew it, it was your turn. The immense pit of fear in your stomach twisted tighter as you leapt forward, grasping the first bar with both hands. The initial swing was thrilling yet terrifying, anxiety clawing at you with the fear of falling. You forced yourself to stay focused. Inch by inch, you moved, feeling the strain in your muscles as you reached for the next bar.

“Come on, keep going!” someone shouted from behind you, their encouragement pushing you forward. Each bar you grabbed felt like a small victory, but you knew you still had much more to go, taking tiny glimpses at the amount of bars left. You could hear gasps from teammates behind you after slipping off a bar, causing them to fall and add to the pile of gruesome bodies gathering below you.

Seeing all those bodies at the bottom caused your overthinking to kick in at the absolute wrong time. What if you fell? What if you died? Desperation clawed at you as you reached the halfway point. The metal bars were slick with sweat and your palms felt numb, grip faltering. But the thought of Thanos pushed you onward, a reminder of everything you had to lose—and everything you were fighting for.

From then on, with every swing, hope swelled within you. This could be the moment that changed everything. That fleeting memory of Thanos pushed you further than you ever thought. You remembered his words "Keep pushing even if it seems impossible." and it fueled you like never before. Your heart raced, a mix of determination and dread flooding through you.

Taking a deep breath, you used every ounce of determination in you and pushed forward once more. With one final pull, you swung to the last bar, the end platform finally coming into view.

As you landed safely, a rush of euphoria washed over you. You’d made it! The cheers from your team resonated around you, but there was no time for celebration just yet. You turned back to the others, knowing that many were still grappling with their own struggles.

“Keep going!” you shouted, your voice hoarse but filled with fervor. “You can do this!”

With your encouragement, you watched as your teammates found the strength to push themselves forward, unified in the fight for survival in this relentless game. Hope flickered within you, a feeling you wished would carry all of you to victory.

As your team finished the challenge, you felt your nerves calm down. There were some that didn't make it, but the majority did and you were happy for that. The timer still had a minute and 20 seconds left, everyone spent their time talking and calming down. One thing that confused you, though, was that the other half of the 'X' group was still there from when they finished. If they completed the game, shouldn't they be able to go back to their own room?

Just as the thought started to worry you, the buzzer rang through the room, signaling that your remaining time was now up. You expected to be taken to the sleeping quarters, but there were no guards, not even a door on the side you stood on.

The first half of the 'O' group walked through the entrance, and your heart exploded as you saw a face you grew to love. It was Thanos. You could see a familiar intensity etched across his brow. He was in his element, ready to confront the challenge ahead.

The second you locked eyes, his face glowed in admiration. Time seemed to freeze as the noise around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

Your exchanged gazes were cut off by the blaring buzzer, signaling the start of his team’s round. He straightened his posture, expression changing swiftly from admiration to fierce determination. With a quick glance back at you, he locked eyes one last time. A silent promise passed between you, he would give his absolute all.

Soon enough, the familiar purple head of hair caught your attention. He was about to start. It felt like you were the one on the bars as you watched him make his way across. As he took a deep breath and launched himself into the challenge, it was like the ground beneath you shifted. You were completely focused, holding your breath with each swing he took.

Every struggle and grunt made you flinch. Watching the players make their way across the stage, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that your boyfriend was right behind them, fighting for his life.

Even though he seemed to be making it across fairly okay your heart still beat profusely. At some point, you decide to turn away altogether, saving yourself from the pain of watching. While you sat there with your eyes glued closed, trying to shield yourself from the people before you, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Slowly, you pull your head up, not wanting to face reality. But the person you were stressing so much over was standing right infront of you. Thanos stood there, a mix of adoration and relief flooding his face.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, proving how much the previous game had tired him. You could see faint layer of sweat glistening against the harsh lights above, but none of that really mattered. What mattered was the warmth in his eyes as he leaned in closer, hugging you tightly as to calm himself down.

“You okay?” His voice was soft yet urgent, a contrast to the loudness of the everything around you. With this, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I was watching, It was..”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. “But I’m here now.”

Your heart swelled, despite the noise and yells from the crowds around you. It was such a relief to see him unharmed, standing tall and ready for anything. The moment slowed as you both just stared at each other, words slipping away.

Unfortunately, your moment got cut off, like always, by the instrusive 10 minute timer going off. While the next group made their way in, the two of you just laid there, taking in each others presence before the games ended, for good.

It felt like you were floating, like nothing around you mattered and the two of you were the only people on earth. As you drifted deeper into this peaceful haven you knew that nothing could ever break the bond that you shared with Thanos, a bond that was forged in tough times and deep emotions.

But as they say, there's always a calm before the storm.

The final team completed the challenge before you knew it, and the whole room erupted with cheers. We were finally able to go home. This whole time, all the tears and fighting was worth it. Thanos kissed you passionately as to celebrate the win, or what seemed like a win.

All of the applause were cut short by that nerve-wracking intercom coming back on. "Dear contestants, congratulations on completing the first part of the game! 24 players now remain."

Your heart stopped as you heard those words. First part..? Didn't we finish the games? You looked up at Thanos in disbelief, hoping to get some type of comfort. Instead, you were met with a face of pure terror.

All the color was drained from his cheeks as his mouth hung open out of shock, he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Panic surged through you, overpowering the joy of victory. You exchanged glances with the others in the room, confusion and dread painting their faces, mirroring your own fears.

The intercom continued, its voice cold and mechanical. “The rules for Phase 2 are the same as Phase 1: There is a time limit of 25 minutes for all remaining players to return to the opposite side of the room. Please proceed with caution.”

25 minutes? That isn't nearly enough time to get everyone across. Your uneasiness grew as players started to shuffle around in worry, adding onto your anxiety of already being high up. The timer blared through the room, signaling the start of phase 2.

Player 456 took initiative and stepped infront of everyone, coming up with a plan. "Everyone, follow my lead. A person will join in every 3 bars, be careful and don't panic. It will slow you down and cause everyone to mess up."

Soon after his speech, he took a leap onto the bar, causing the countdown to begin. Everyone followed his orders, joining in every 3 bars. It was all going smoothly up until it was nearing your turn.

You watched as the team excelled, most pushing though the dismay and making it to the end. Others weren't as lucky, losing their grip and falling to their deaths.

Thanos insisted on going after you, claiming it would help him stay focused and remember what he’s fighting for. You agreed quickly, finding his words endearing, completely oblivious to the true reason for his actions.

Unbeknownst to you, Thanos had gotten an arm injury in one of the previous games, which progressively worsened. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry any more, but he could feel himself losing strength. Especially with this final game being physical, Thanos knew this was his last chance to be with you.

Instead of telling you his true feelings, that he was sure this would be his last time seeing you, he decided to protect your heart for now. After all, isn’t that what he approached you to do?

As the person before you made their way onto the bars, Thanos pulled you in for a tight, unknowingly final hug. You weren’t sure why he did this, or why it felt so much more different, but you appreciated it.

“Please, try your hardest okay? Don’t give up no matter what.” He muttered, face stuffed in the crook of your neck. Before waiting for a response, he gently grasped your face with both hands and pressed his lips against yours in a long, passionate kiss that left you breathless.

His mouth moved with a desperate urgency, as if savoring every second you had left together. The kiss was like a goodbye, a promise of forever that lingered even as it came to an end.

You jumped on the bar, full of life. All your strength kicked in at this moment as you used Thanos’ words to power you through. The muscles in your arms burned as you worked through the challenge, but his presence fueled your determination. You couldn’t let him down. Not now.

The crowd roared around you, their cheers blending into a rhythmic chant that kept pace with your heartbeat. Looking back at Thanos, you saw his face pale with anxiety. You wanted to assure him that everything would be alright, but you were too focused on pushing past your limits.

As the minutes ticked by and the final bar loomed ahead, you felt doubt creep in—what if you weren’t strong enough? What if all the fighting, all the trouble from the last games led to this moment and you were about to fail?

You took a final look back, wanting to see Thanos' face in hopes of it pushing you through the last half of the course, but instead get met with a face of sheer terror. Thanos' face was full of raw desperation, his eyes wide and glistening with an unsettling mix of fear and disbelief.

The usually relaxed lines of his jaw tightened, showing a weakness that sharply contrasted with his earlier mood. Unbeknownst to you, this was the moment he finally understood the weight of his looming defeat. He knew the end had come, but why did it have to be with you right in front of him?

Thanos' arms buckled as he attempted to push through, to use all his remaining energy to make it to the end. Each swing grew heavier as the bars beneath his hands grew slick with sweat. His heart raced, not just from the pressure but from the dread settling in his gut. A shadow of hopelessness flickered through his mind.

“This can’t be it,” he thought, clenching his jaw as he struggled to swing himself forward. Not like this. Not now. His gaze flickered to you, hanging off the bar 3 ahead of him, eyes wide with concern and shimmering with tears.

Memories of your laughter echoed through his mind, light and warm against the harsh reality of these games. He remembered those nights spent talking about dreams and futures, the plans you constructed together so effortlessly. All the times you had smiled at him, with that light in your eyes that made his heart swell, igniting a fire deep within him that he didn’t know he had left.

But now, did it even matter? The cruel thought twisted in his chest like a knife. He fought through so much, lost everything, only to get this close to the one thing he wanted most; true, undeniable love. And now it felt like sand slipping through his fingers, the more he struggled, the more he was losing.

As he swung on the next bar, his grip faltered for just a moment, and unlike every other time before, he felt fragility creep into his bones. The voice within him began to scream, demanding him to give up, that it was all over. Why keep fighting when the odds felt impossible?

But he had to move, for you. He gritted his teeth, forcing his body forward, fatigue clinging to him like a leech. With every swing, he felt a crack in his pride, a familiar emptiness growing in him as his thoughts flooded with anxieties.

He remembered the warmth of your hands in his, the gentle touch that made every battle feel worth it. Each moment spent with you had become a lifeline in this place, a source of hope he never thought he would have again.

As he took another swing, desperation fueled him, but quickly it faded. His muscles trembled, stabs of pain shooting through him. A vision of you, radiant and pure, tugged at his heart, and a sob caught in his throat. This was truly the end for him.

You tried not to turn back, hearing how much Thanos was struggling. You didn't want to see him like that. As the fight to the end continued you only had one thing on your mind; how happy the two of you would be after all this.

As you moved forward, a raspy voice came from behind you. "No…" Thanos murmured. Overcome by curiosity, you glanced back slightly. What you saw brought tears to your eyes.

You saw Thanos clutching the bar tightly with raw desperation, the last ounce of strength draining from him. He locked eyes with you, wanting nothing more but to keep going for you, his girl. But before he could think further, his body betrayed him. His fingertips slipped, a sudden loss of control, and time felt like it stretched endlessly.

Every memory, every smile, every hopeful dream flickered through your mind. The plans you had made, the laughter you shared, the quiet moments when everything else faded away and it was just the two of you.

But now, with horror pinching at your heart, you watched him fall. In that split second before he vanished from your sight, you saw the mix of fear and regret cross his face. It was a sight you would never forget, a moment where everything he had fought for clashed with the dreaded reality of loss.

As he disappeared from view, you felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The warmth of your shared moments was replaced by an empty void, every hope for a future together gone in an instant. The world around you moved on, but you were frozen, trying to grasp the reality of what just happened.

You watched as Thanos, your first true love, fell to the ground becoming nothing more than another body added to the pile below. You faltered, unable to tear your gaze from the spot where he had been.

And in those final moments, as he hit the ground, with a pain that felt both devastating and liberating, he saw your face flash before him, etched forever in the depths of his heart. A love that would transcend even death. For a heartbeat more, he hoped that you would find your way through this cruel world, even if he could not be there to protect you.

A suffocating silence enveloped you, an immense contrast to the chaos that had erupted just moments before. The fight within you dispersed, replaced by a crushing sense of helplessness. Your only reason to keep going had just faded. You sloppily pushed your way to the end, fighting the urge to simply give up.

Finishing the challenge didn't excite you anymore. As you heard the announcement stating the end of the games, all you could think about was how you just lost the only person worth fighting for.

You could've did something, anything. Why him? Why couldn't it be you? The whole experience was bittersweet. As the screen displayed the amounts of money everyone would receive, there was no sense of happiness within you. Just a hole in your heart, one only Thanos could fill.

But now he's gone and you feel worse than ever. You didn't care about the money anymore. Sure, you were no longer in debt, but it wasn't worth losing your best friend. The money felt like an insult, a shallow victory overshadowed by the emptiness left in his death.

The days drag on. Every morning, you wake up hoping things will feel different, but the same sadness greets you like an unwanted shadow. You feel lost in a world that keeps moving forward while you’re frozen in the moment where you lost it all.

Eventually, the sadness becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself spiraling back into darker thoughts. Feelings of hopelessness creep in, and it’s hard to escape them. You start to think that maybe it would be easier if you just didn’t have to feel anything at all. That maybe not being here would take away the pain for good, and you catch yourself wondering if anyone would truly miss you.

Those thoughts frighten you, but they also exist in the quiet moments when everything else feels unbearable. In the times where there nothing to focus on but your thoughts and trauma, you wonder if it's worth it.

Nobody would care. Family hasn't called in months, friends cut you off. You were an embarrassment to be around. The thoughts kicked in harder, and you started to think of plans. Time, place, and opportunity; those were the 3 key things you needed to consider if you went trough with it.

But as you sit there, a small flicker of doubt creeps in. You remember how you used to laugh, how you once loved to share stories and connect with others. Remembering these times, your heart aches at how you took it for granted.

You would give anything to go back to those days. When you didn't have to worry about debt, being able to go out with friends everyday. Now the world seemed gray and lifeless. You felt like a ghost, simply floating through the stages of life, not truly taking in anything.

A week passes since you've been out the house, and you still haven't left your bed. The sheets cling to you like a magnet, but they suffocate you too. You haven’t showered in days, the thought of standing beneath the water feeling like an unruly task. Instead, you find comfort in the bundle of your blankets, where you can hide from the world and the relentless demands of life.

Your body feels sluggish as hunger pangs occasionally reminding you of your needs, but preparing food or even grabbing a snack seems overwhelming. It’s easier to ignore it, to push it aside and focus on trying to silence the chaos in your mind. You scroll endlessly through your phone, searching for distractions, but nothing holds your attention. You feel disconnected, like there's a glass wall between you and everything else.

Another week passes, the same exhausting loop continuing. Everything was genuinely draining, and you were tired of it. Breathing felt like a chore, and you could barely find the strength to get on your phone. So, you decided that it was time. Time for all your thoughts to silence and pain to finally stop.

You remembered the gun you kept in your bedside drawer, for "safety" reasons. It was never put to use, so maybe now was the time. Picking it up, you made sure it was fully loaded. You didn't want to regret this, not after everything that's happened.

Being your first time out the house in weeks, you drove to a faraway forest, making sure it was in a desolate place nobody would even think of visiting. The drive was about 2 hours long, causing it to be pitch black upon arrival. There hadn't been any cars for the past 45 minutes of driving, just how you wanted.

As you picked up your phone for the first time in almost a week, you noticed that there were hardly any notifications. It became clear that they really didn’t care. Looking up slightly, you noticed the time "11:38". Time, place, and opportunity.

All you could think about was Thanos. You'd promised him not to give up, but you had to. You thought back to his previous words, "it’s in our darkest moments that we find the light." Hearing his words repeat in your head made you realize, he was your light.

He'd came out of nowhere, sweet-talking you and washing all your worries away. For that week you'd known eachother, you were the happiest you'd been in a while. There wasn't a single time you considered doing something awful to yourself.

But now that he's gone, it seemed like you were in worse shape than before. You were bad, but not enough to be standing in the middle of the woods with nothing but your phone and a gun.

You shivered as the cool air from the wind hit your face. The dark, silent setting brought you uneasiness. You were finally alone. Raising the firearm to your head, your mind started racing. Was this really it? Is this how it ends?

The weight of the gun brought fatigue to your weak arm, being severely malnourished and exhausted. You felt horrible to break Thanos' promise, not being able to keep pushing anymore. The guilt hit you like a bus.

Suddenly, all your emotion intensified by a hundred. You felt a mix of anger and depression swirl though your body as you gripped the gun tighter. Every negative feeling abruptly switched onto you, leaving you with nothing but self-loathing.

Without thinking, you pulled the trigger. You felt a flash of agonizing pain as the thick bullet pierced through your skull. All of your pain was swiftly replaced with absolute serenity, as if the chaos of your life had finally unraveled.

As your awareness faded away, all you could think about was Thanos. How he held you when you started panicking, understood your body language, and connected with you like no one else did.

You'd reunite with him for good this time.

[starmatzz]

Can u write like Dom yunho with grooming kink nd CNC

Like he loves to take care of y/n who is a dumb innocent doll

As she starts realising that the rules (she can't go out of the house without yunho, no friends, no work, yunho dresses her) yunho has for her are kinda crazy and tries to escape but gets caught

A full smut

𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

bf!Yunho x gf!reader | smut | 4.6k

nsfw tags:

dom/sub, dollification, pet names, cnc, grooming kink, abuse, violence, controlling, handcuffs, gag, choking, threatening, vaginal sex, mxf, possessive behavior, cum, mocking, punishment, brainwashing, free use, daddy kink

author's note: phew! i tried my best hehe..hope you'll like it

You stood in the dimly lit living room, your hand resting against the cool glass of the window as you watched people your age laughing and walking together outside. Their voices carried through the air, light and carefree, while you remained on the other side of the glass—watching, not joining.

“What are you looking at, darling?”

A deep voice rumbled behind you, warm and familiar. You turned to see your boyfriend standing there, watching you with a soft, unreadable expression.

“I was wondering…” you hesitated, your voice small, uncertain. “If I could maybe… go outside sometimes.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor as soon as the words left your lips, as if saying them aloud made them too fragile, too easy to dismiss. The room was quiet for a moment, save for the faint sound of laughter filtering in from outside.

“Not today, my sweet girl, but tomorrow we can,” Yunho murmured, his voice gentle as he lifted your chin with a careful touch. 

“I’ll pick out some cute clothes for you,” he continued, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Gonna make you look all pretty when we go outside, hm?” He tilted his head slightly, watching your expression as if making sure you weren’t too disappointed.

“Well… I was thinking that maybe I could go… alone,” you said carefully, your voice barely above a whisper.

The change in Yunho was immediate. His smile faded, and his warm gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. The playful tilt of his head stilled, his grip on your chin tightening just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch.

“Alone?” he echoed, as if tasting the word on his tongue, testing it. The room felt quieter now, the laughter from outside suddenly distant, as if the world beyond the window had pulled away.

You quickly realized your mistake, shaking your head as a nervous chill ran down your spine.

“N-no…” you stuttered, your voice barely steady.

Yunho’s eyes stayed locked on yours, unreadable, his grip lingering just a second longer before he finally let go. The weight of his gaze felt heavy, pressing down on you like an invisible force.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He brushed a thumb over your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. “You don’t need to go alone, princess. I’ll take care of you, always.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but something about them sent a shiver down your spine.

When evening came, Yunho guided you to the bathroom, his touch gentle but firm as he helped you wash your hair. His fingers worked through the strands with practiced care, massaging your scalp in slow, deliberate circles. The warm water cascaded down your back, but even in its comforting heat, you couldn’t ignore the way his presence lingered—always watching, always tending to you like you were something fragile, something to be kept.

Later, in your bedroom, he sat you down in front of the vanity, the low hum of the blow dryer filling the quiet space. His fingers combed through your damp hair, smoothing out any tangles with soft strokes before carefully drying each section. He was meticulous, ensuring every strand was perfectly in place, just the way he liked.

Yunho always made sure you looked perfect for him—his perfect doll. Hair carefully styled with delicate bows or glittering clips, soft makeup dusted over your cheeks, and the cutest outfits he could find. You were his masterpiece, his sweet, delicate thing.

“All done,” he murmured, setting the blow dryer aside and tilting your chin up to meet his gaze in the mirror. A satisfied smile played on his lips as he admired his work.

“Perfect, just like always.”

Yunho gently slid the robe off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. The cool air brushed against your skin, but before you could react, he was already slipping a pair of soft pink shorts up your legs, his touch slow and deliberate.

“There we go,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he smoothed the fabric over your hips.

Next, he grabbed one of his shirts—a loose, oversized thing that still carried his scent—and carefully guided it over your head. The material hung off your frame, drowning you in its warmth, the sleeves nearly covering your hands.

His eyes softened, but there was something possessive in the way he looked at you, like he was making sure you belonged to him in every possible way.

He reached out, gently brushing your hair back into place before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get you to bed, sweetheart.”

Like always, Yunho pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, tucking the blankets around you before pulling you close. His warmth surrounded you, his steady breathing in your ear like a lullaby. It was routine—his kiss, his touch, his presence wrapping around you like an unshakable force.

But tonight, sleep didn’t come.

Your mind was restless, turning over thoughts you usually pushed away. You stared at the ceiling, heart beating a little too fast, a little too loud.

The rules.

You weren’t allowed to go outside alone.

You couldn’t have friends.

You couldn’t work.

You couldn’t even dress yourself.

Everything—every part of your life—belonged to Yunho.

And for the first time in a long time, you wondered what it would feel like to take something back.

The night had passed slowly, and when morning finally came, you didn’t expect anything to be different.

Yunho woke you gently, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the same tenderness he always had. His touch, warm and familiar, stirred you awake from your dreams, and you blinked up at him, still wrapped in the haze of sleep.

“Good morning, my sweet little girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and comforting.

Before you could fully gather your senses, he scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bathroom. His movements were effortless, like it was second nature to take care of you in every way. He set you down carefully and began the usual morning routine: running the water just the right temperature, helping you wash your face, brushing your hair, guiding you through the motions with the same quiet patience as always.

Then, he dressed you again—soft, pastel clothes, always perfectly chosen to suit you. Your world, your body, your choices, were all carefully controlled by him, as if he were constructing the perfect image of you, piece by piece.

You looked in the mirror, and for a moment, it all felt so ordinary. Until your own reflection stared back at you, and a small, unfamiliar thought flickered in the back of your mind.

You sat across from Yunho at the breakfast table, the soft clink of utensils in the quiet morning air. He was holding his usual cup of coffee, his eyes thoughtful as he stared into the dark liquid, as if pondering something important.

“I was thinking…” Yunho began, his voice slow, deliberate. “That I need to protect you more.”

You paused, the air suddenly feeling heavier, though you couldn’t place why. His gaze met yours, intense and steady, and for a brief moment, you wondered what exactly he meant.

Then, with a small smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a delicate bracelet, glinting softly in the light.

“This,” Yunho continued, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the bracelet as he held it out to you, “allows me to watch you y/n, wherever you are.”

Your eyes widened as he placed it in your palm. The weight of the object felt strangely heavy, like it held more than just its physical presence. It was a tether, a connection you hadn’t asked for, yet there it was, pressing against your skin.

“You’ll always be safe,” he said, his voice low and reassuring, but there was something in the way he said it that made a shiver run down your spine. “Always.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say, your fingers tightening around the bracelet as you tried to make sense of the feeling growing in your chest.

“But why—” you started, confusion clouding your voice as you looked at the bracelet in your hand.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, angel,” Yunho interrupted, his smile soft but insistent, as if the answer was already clear and you didn’t need to ask any more questions.

His thumb gently wiped the corner of your mouth, where a small smear of yogurt had left a mark. The tender gesture was so familiar, so routine, and yet, it felt almost too intimate in that moment, like he was reminding you of how little you needed to worry about anything but him.

“You don’t need to understand everything,” he murmured, eyes fixed on you as if watching for any hint of resistance. “Just trust me, okay?”

The sudden ringing of Yunho’s phone cut through the moment, and he groaned softly, irritation flashing across his face.

“Gotta answer this,” he muttered, standing up from the table. He didn’t even glance at you as he straightened his shirt, the usual calm demeanor falling into place. “Be a good girl while I deal with this, okay? Make me proud.”

He petted your hair, fingers gently brushing through the strands, and for a second, you almost felt comforted by the gesture. But then, he was turning away, heading upstairs with his phone pressed to his ear, his footsteps echoing in the quiet house.

You sat there, the empty space around you feeling oddly suffocating, the sound of his voice drifting off into the distance. It wasn’t the first time he had left you alone, but something about it felt different this time. Something about his words lingered in the air, unspoken expectations hanging like a weight over your chest.

You were left with your thoughts again, the bracelet still resting heavy in your palm, and the quiet feeling of being… controlled.

The weight of everything—his rules, his control, the constant feeling of being watched—had built up over time, but now, it felt unbearable. The room was quiet, the house still, but your mind raced, no longer able to ignore the growing knot of unease in your stomach.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t keep living like this.

That night, you spent hours staring at the ceiling, your mind working through every possible way to get out. Every escape route, every detail, every risk—thinking it through over and over, your heart pounding as you came to one conclusion: you had to leave.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Yunho. You did. But the love he gave was suffocating, controlling, like a cage you had spent too long trying to ignore. You needed to be your own person again, to breathe without feeling trapped by the life he had built around you.

Your heart raced as you quickly stood up, glancing around the room. The silence felt almost deafening, every small sound echoing in your ears. Yunho was still upstairs, his voice barely audible through the floorboards, absorbed in his call.

You didn’t hesitate. Without another thought, you left the bracelet on the table—its presence still lingering in the air like a warning—and stepped silently past the kitchen. Your footsteps were muffled against the cool floors as you moved toward the main hall.

Each step felt like it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts, the fear and the thrill mixing into one knot in your chest. You kept your movements calculated, making sure not to make a sound, but the pulse of urgency in your veins kept you moving forward.

The door was just ahead. The world outside, with all its uncertainty, seemed closer than ever. But the closer you got, the more the reality of what you were doing hit you. Leaving meant breaking free, but it also meant leaving behind the life you had known with Yunho. The consequences weren’t clear, but you couldn’t stay locked away any longer.

You reached the door, your hand on the handle. This was it.

As you slowly turned the handle, the door creaked open with a soft groan, the air on the other side feeling cooler, more open. You paused, a cold shiver running down your spine.

It was too quiet.

No distant sound of Yunho’s voice, no hint of movement from upstairs—just the stillness of the house pressing in on you. The quiet felt unnatural, unsettling.

You took a cautious step forward, then another, but the silence seemed to swallow each footfall. Something didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t the usual peace you’d grown used to—it was an eerie stillness, as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting.

You stopped at the threshold, torn between the pull of freedom and the heavy feeling creeping in. Something told you to turn back, but the door was already half-open, the world beyond it just a step away.

“Get. Back. Now.”

The command hit you like a punch to the gut, cold and sharp, and your body froze in place.

It was Yunho. His voice was low, steady, yet it carried a weight that felt impossible to ignore. You could hear the anger behind it, the control, the edge that made every muscle in your body lock in place.

For a moment, you stood there, paralyzed by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door was still ajar, the outside world just within reach, but now it felt like you were trapped between two worlds.

Slowly, you turned around, meeting his gaze. Yunho was standing at the top of the stairs, eyes dark and unblinking, his expression unreadable but full of something fierce, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Did you really think you could just walk out?” His voice was quieter now, but the danger in it made your heart race.

You swallowed, the weight of everything crashing down on you. The door behind you felt like an escape, but his presence, the tension in his gaze, made it feel like a trap.

His words sliced through the stillness of the moment, sharp and venomous. “Close the door, pretty girl.”

The command sent a chill down your spine, and without thinking, you obeyed, your hands shaking as you gently pulled the door shut. The sound of it closing felt final, like a door shutting on everything you’d hoped for.

Before you could even process what was happening, Yunho was there, moving swiftly toward you. His expression was cold, darker than you’d ever seen, and his presence seemed to fill the entire space.

“You broke a rule,” he said, his voice steady but heavy with an unmistakable threat. “You know what that means.”

Before you could react, he scooped you up with alarming force, throwing you over his shoulder as if you were weightless. Panic surged through your body, and you tried to struggle, but his grip was unyielding.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a growl as he carried you, your body pressed against him. The walls of the house seemed to close in, and with every step he took, the weight of your actions settled heavily in your chest.

Yunho couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that his perfect doll was trying to leave him. 

The words rushed out of your mouth in a desperate, pleading tone. “Please! I am sorry, I am sorry!” You tried to wriggle free, but his hold on you was firm, unrelenting.

Yunho didn’t even glance at you as he walked toward the bedroom, his expression cold, as if he’d already made up his mind.

“I thought I taught my princess well,” he said, his voice laced with disappointment. “Guess I need to be less nice next time.” He shook his head as he reached the bed, and in one swift motion, he threw you down onto the soft surface. The sudden impact left you breathless, and for a moment, you could only stare up at him, heart racing, chest tight with anxiety.

The air between you two was thick, and you could feel it—he was angry. You had crossed a line, and he wasn’t about to let it go easily. His eyes never left you as he stood over the bed, looming, as if deciding what to do next.

In that moment, you felt small, vulnerable, and trapped.

He crawled on top of you, straddling your hips as he pulled something out from under a pillow. A pair of handcuffs and a ball gag. 

“No! Please stop!” your eyes widened as you shook your head, putting your hands in front of yourself. 

His voice was dangerously calm, a stark contrast to the storm that swirled in his eyes. “Be a good little girl for me, okay?”

The question wasn’t really a question at all—it was an expectation, one you had no choice but to meet. The weight of his words pressed down on you, and for a moment, all you could do was nod, your chest tight with the tension that had built between you.

He grabbed your wrists, clipping on the silver cuffs. Then, with a focused expression, he slipped the gag into your mouth, tightening its leather straps behind your head.

You looked at him, your eyes filled with tears, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The weight of what you had done hung over you, and you could feel the fear tightening in your stomach. You knew, deep down, that you had messed up, and there was no escaping the consequences that would come.

“Tears won't make me change my mind,” Yunho said firmly as he rolled up your skirt, a determined look in his eyes. His hand gripped on your thigh, his long fingers tracing small circles on your exposed skin as he slowly moved to position himself.

“Daddy needs to remind you what happens when you disobey, y/n” Yunho repeated, his tone low and authoritative. His hand moved from your thigh to your jaw, gripping it firmly as he pulled you close. “I wanted what's best for you, and this is what I get in return?!” he continued, his eyes locked on your face with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

He eagerly pulled down his pants, pulling your lace panties to the side. “Don't you dare make a sound,” he murmured, hovering above you.

Yunho's actions were deliberate, and he paid no mind to the lack of preparation. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't about to let something like that stop him.

Your efforts to squirm and resist were futile as Yunho held you firmly in place, his grip strong and unyielding. 

“Gonna fuck you so good..that's what you're for. My personal fuckdoll to use whenever I feel like.”

Yunho's frustration grew as he heard your whine and felt you attempt to close your legs. His growl of impatience only got stronger, his grip on you tightening. “Don't you dare close your legs,” he growled, “spread 'em.”

You shook your head, looking at him with pleading eyes. 

A sharp smack suddenly echoed through the room as Yunho's hand came down on your cheek, a harsh and unexpected response to your plea. The sting stung, leaving a faint red mark on your skin, a sign of his frustration and dominance.

You felt tears roll down your cheeks, before sensing a subtle pressure at your opening.

“Don't make me hit you again,” Yunho warned, his voice dangerously low. His expression was a mixture of determination and frustration, and in one fluid motion, he pressed forward, sinking into your tight heat. 

A gasp escaped your lips as the burning pain struck without warning, your body jerking and arching in response. The searing heat shot through you, leaving a trail of raw agony that seemed to freeze time itself. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, caught between the shock and the unrelenting sting that pulsed through your every nerve.

“So pretty y/n, my pretty little girl..” A low, almost guttural moan escaped his lips as he spoke, a mixture of praise and wonder in his voice. He stared at you with dark eyes, taking in the image of you beneath him.

You laid there, your wrists cuffed and your once-perfect hair now tangled and disheveled. His hands slid down on your hips, the hold almost bruising. 

“Want daddy to stop, baby?” Yunho's voice was laced with mock concern as he spoke, his pout exaggerated and the look on his face a clear indication that he had no intention of stopping. His eyes were trained on your face, taking in the streaks of mascara that trickled down your cheeks.

He pulled back slowly, only to slam back into you, making your body jolt forward. 

You felt the tip of his cock bruise your cervix, the pain so diabolical you choked on a sob and dug your nails into your palms. 

“Aw did it hurt, princess?” he asked again, the repetition of the question almost mocking, “is daddy's cock too much to take? Too big for your tight, pretty little pussy?” his fingers traced a path over your body, before performing the piercing thrust again. 

Your back arched off the bed, your hands shaking from the intense sensations coursing through your body. Yunho set up the same relentless pace, his own pleasure apparent in his expression. He took in the image of you, the arch in your back and the tremors in your hands as evidence of the control he had over you. 

Yunho's head tilted back, his eyes closed as he let out a low moan. He was lost in the pleasure, his focus solely on the sensations flooding through him.

He lifted your hips, holding them in the air as he pounded into you, dangerously deep with that angle. Your soft cries and whines spilled out, though muffled by the rubber gag seated in your mouth.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good, so tight,” he breathed out, leaning over you and looking into your red, puffy eyes. 

“You're beautiful like this, my precious y/n,” a whisper, warm against your neck, but still sending a shiver down your spine. 

You whimpered, the pain crashing over you in waves, too much to bear. “Look at me,” Yunho commanded, his voice deep and unwavering, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. It cut through the fog of agony, pulling your focus, demanding your attention despite the searing discomfort.

You met his gaze, locking onto his dark eyes. The intensity in them was unnerving, the look almost psychotic—dangerous, wild, like he could see straight through you, unraveling everything. It sent a chill down your spine, the heat of the pain momentarily forgotten as his eyes held you captive.

His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it as he leaned in, his breath ragged. “If I take it off, do you promise you’ll be good?” he asked, sweat clinging to his hair, dripping down his forehead. His gaze moved to the ball gag in your mouth. 

You nodded immediately, and Yunho paused for a moment, his hand lifting up your head with a firm yet gentle motion. Without a word, he moved swiftly, his fingers working to unbuckle the gag with precision. 

He tossed it aside with a swift motion, and for the first time, you were able to close your mouth. The relief was instant, but it left you swallowing the excess saliva that had built up, the sensation oddly grounding after the tension of the moment. 

“What a good doll.”

Yunho's gaze was unwavering as he continued with his quick and deliberate pace. He kept his eyes on your face, watching your expressions intently, enjoying the sight of you writhing and whimpering beneath him. 

“Who do you belong to?” he growled, his voice thick with raw intensity. His movements grew jerky and uncoordinated, as if the demand was unraveling something inside of him, pushing him to the edge. 

“Y-you…” you whined, your voice trembling as you sniffled, the words barely escaping your lips. The mix of pain and desire in the air made it hard to focus, but you knew what he wanted. Every part of you was raw, vulnerable in his presence.

“Exactly,” Yunho chuckled darkly, his voice low and almost predatory. His hand moved to your throat, fingers tightening just enough to send a shiver down your spine, a mix of power and control settling in the air between you. 

“And you deserved this, right?” he asked, his voice low and filled with dark satisfaction as he tightened his fingers around your throat, the pressure a reminder of his control. 

“Yes,” you choked out, the word strained as you swallowed hard, the pressure around your throat making it difficult to breathe. 

“Yes what?” he raised his eyebrows. 

“Yes daddy,” you sobbed, gasping for air. 

“Good girl,” Yunho smiled, his voice softening for a moment as he released his grip on your throat. 

Yunho's eyes shut tightly, his pace increasing to a quick and desperate rhythm. The change in speed caused a sharper cry to escape your lips as your hands balled info fists. 

“Fuck..fuck..” Yunho groaned, biting his lip. “Open,” he ordered, his eyes still tightly closed as if lost in the moment. His voice held an undeniable command and bit of desperation. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and stuck your tong out, anticipating his next move, your body responding before your mind could fully catch up. 

He quickly pulled out, gripping his aching cock as he aimed at your tongue. A high pitched moan escaped his lips as he shoot strings of hot cum on your tongue, painting it white. 

“Swallow,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving you, dark and unwavering. 

You immediately swallowed the salty substance, your body trembling with the effort as you stuck out your now clean tongue, the act almost instinctual in response to his command. The tension in the air still hung heavy, your submission clear in the way you followed his every move without question.

“Such a good girl,” he groaned, his voice thick with approval. His thumb gently wiped away the excess seed from your bottom lip, the soft motion a contrast to the intensity in his eyes. Each touch felt like a reward, a subtle reminder of his control and your obedience.

“You know,” he mumbled, pulling his sweatpants back up with a slow, deliberate motion. “Only I know what’s best for you,” he added, his voice low and steady, the words lingering in the space between you. 

“Understand?” he asked, his voice sharper now, a bite of command cutting through the air. “You can’t do anything yourself,” he continued, his gaze unwavering as he unlocked your handcuffs. His hands moved to gently rub your sore wrists. 

You nodded, your body still trembling as he wiped away your tears, his touch soft and reassuring. His fingers combed through your hair, the gentle gesture almost soothing amidst the chaos. 

Without a word, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bathroom, ready to clean you up, his presence a steadying force in the aftermath.

After you were clean again, he dressed you carefully, his movements tender as he ensured you were comfortable before gently placing you on the bed. You were sore, exhausted, every part of you aching with the weight of what had just passed. It was clear—Yunho knew exactly what was best for you. He lay down beside you, pulling you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective shield, offering a sense of calm after the storm.

“I love you, my precious little girl,” he mumbled against your soft hair, but there was an edge to his voice now, something darker, like a warning. His grip on you tightened, possessive and unyielding, as if the words were more of a claim than a comfort. The room felt colder, the silence thicker, and you could sense the weight of his gaze still on you even as you closed your eyes. It wasn’t reassurance—it was control, and it lingered in the air like a shadow, heavy and unspoken.

[almostwisegalaxy]

The shadow and light Game

Enemies to lover

Servant x blind fem!reader

reader has a shy character in this story

Music to listen to for the atmosphere: People help the people_Birdy

..................................................................................

The morning mist clung to the stone walls of the annex, isolated and cold, far from the grandeur of the Delarive estate. The place had been designed to keep both rumors and their target at bay: Y/N Delarive, the cursed youngest daughter. They said she carried a curse, that she had sold her soul to enrich her family. Yet, for those who had dared to get close, there was neither magic nor malediction. Only a blind young woman, tormented and locked away in a gilded cage.

Y/N sat in her favorite chair, facing a window whose light she could only guess. The slightest noise irritated her; the arrival of a new servant had already sent her into a rage. It was always the same—her parents sent spies to watch her or break her further. But this one, she would not allow to stay.

The door opened. Slowly, without the hurried steps of a fearful servant. The approaching footsteps were heavy yet controlled, as if the person wanted to be noticed. Y/N tightened her grip on the familiar weight of a wooden clock in her frail but determined hands.

“I want no one here!” she screamed before throwing the object with all her strength.

The impact echoed. The man had taken the hit directly to his face. Y/N heard a muffled groan, followed by a heavy silence. No cries, no stumbling retreat. Just that silence—then a deep, composed voice, tinged with a hint of surprise.

“Impressive aim, for someone who can’t see.”

Y/N froze. She had expected apologies, pleas, or a hasty retreat. Not a response so calm, nor a trace of amusement in his tone.

Cassius straightened, pressing a hand to his forehead, where a small cut was already bleeding. He had heard of the youngest Delarive’s tantrums, her fits of rage, her explosive outbursts. None of it had prepared him for this encounter. Behind the mask of suspicion and fury, he sensed something else. Not the madness people accused her of—but a deep, ingrained fear. Almost tangible.

He stepped forward, deliberately closing the distance between them. “I am your new servant,” he declared. Dropping the suitcase he carried at his feet, he added, “And I’m not leaving.”

Y/N clenched her fists. “They all leave.”

“Maybe,” he replied, crossing his arms, “but not today.”

She heard a faint sound—the rustling of a handkerchief as he pressed it to his wound. He wasn’t trying to explain himself, nor impose his presence. And for a reason she couldn’t quite grasp, that unsettled her.

Cassius said nothing, but he observed. The frailness of her wrists, the tension in her shoulders—like a wounded animal, ready to bite to survive. A quiet rage stirred within him. Not against her. But against those who had reduced her to this state. Yet, he kept his mask of indifference. He wasn’t here to save her. He had a vengeance to fulfill.

Y/N was already retreating into silence. “Fine, stay,” she finally said, her voice trembling slightly. “But don’t think I’ll make it easy for you.”

Cassius allowed a fleeting smile, though she couldn’t see it. “It wouldn’t be interesting otherwise.”

He turned to unpack his belongings. But at the edge of his mind, a persistent thought lingered: this family, the ones who had stolen everything he once loved, deserved to suffer. And the key to his revenge was here, in this cold, forgotten annex.

Yet, as he glanced at Y/N from the corner of his eye, he felt something he couldn’t quite name. A curiosity. Perhaps even a respect he hadn’t anticipated. She was far stronger than the rumors suggested.

But he wasn’t here to be distracted.

Not yet

---

Days had passed in a strange monotony. Y/N remained in the shadows of her room, a place she knew as well as her own skin. It was there that she felt protected, even though every movement was a battle she waged against herself. She had never been so reluctant to live, to eat, to wash. The memories of childhood abuse were deeply ingrained, like invisible chains. Anything that came from another human being was suspect. Everything, even food.

Cassius, on the other hand, had understood the situation more quickly than he would have liked. He knew that Y/N refused to eat, that she even refused to wash, that she was trapped in this cycle of suffering out of fear and distrust. He understood that her resistance did not come from a mere desire to be difficult. It was deeper than that. She had been scarred by her past, by a life of physical and emotional violence. And he was here, a new presence in her closed-off world, an intruder she could not accept.

Every morning, when he entered the room, he found her trying to escape reality. The sheets were tangled around her, and she remained curled up, eyes closed, as if she could hide from the entire world. He had seen the same scene play out day after day. She did not eat, barely drank, and recoiled from any form of contact, even from the most basic care.

One morning, after placing the tray of food beside her bed, he sat near her, waiting silently. The tension between them was palpable. Y/N did not react. She knew he was waiting for her to take the food, but her refusal was absolute. He had seen her in moments of rage when she threw the food against the walls or at him, hoping he would leave, that he would give up. But he had no intention of leaving. Not this time.

At last, he stood, walked to the door, and returned with a basin of warm water. “Y/N,” he said in a calm voice, “it’s time.”

She turned sharply toward him, her hands trembling, panic flashing in her voice. “No! I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want your help.”

But this time, Cassius had not come to negotiate. He leaned forward slowly, grasping the edge of the blanket and pulling it gently, as if he were nothing more than a passing breeze. “You don’t have a choice. You will wash, and you will eat.”

She bolted upright, eyes wide, pushing herself up on her elbows with surprising speed. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed, nearly out of control, the terror evident in her voice. She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, but he dodged it effortlessly.

She tried to get up and flee, but he gently forced her to stay in bed, his authority calm yet unyielding. “Calm down,” he said, holding her firmly but without violence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She struggled against him, screaming, but he did not let go. His hands firmly grasped her wrists, never tightening enough to cause pain. Tears welled in her eyes, but she could not break free from his hold. Y/N was weaker than she thought. She didn’t realize that everything she feared from him, everything she imagined in her mind, was nothing more than ghosts. He wasn’t here to hurt her—not in the way she feared. But she didn’t understand that. Not yet.

“I’m here to help you,” he murmured, his voice almost gentle as he kept his hold on her. “Not to harm you.”

She tensed, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding wildly. She trembled, but it was more from fear than from cold. And in that silent struggle, Cassius felt her resistance begin to crack. It wasn’t just pride or distrust. It was pure fear—the fear of having lost control over everything. The fear of being vulnerable again.

She tried one last time to push him away, but her strength failed her. In the end, she collapsed against him, exhausted, her gaze empty as she stared ahead. Cassius did not release his hold immediately. Instead, he supported her gently, one hand firmly placed on her shoulder, as if to remind her that he was there. But he did not force her. He waited. He waited for her to realize that he wasn’t here to hurt her. Not this time.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Y/N,” he said, almost a whisper. “You won’t be alone in this.”

She rolled onto her side, allowing the warmth of the water he poured gently over her face to wash over her. Y/N closed her eyes, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to surrender. She hadn’t wanted to accept his presence. But in that quiet surrender, there was a fragility he couldn’t ignore.

Finally, she let out a deep sigh, her resistance breaking, and allowed herself to be taken by what he offered—a little care, a little warmth, and perhaps, just a little trust.

---

The next day, Cassius entered Y/N’s room as usual, a tray of food in his hands. But this time, he immediately noticed something different. She wasn’t curled up under her blankets as she usually was. Instead, she was sitting on the edge of her bed, her bare feet barely touching the floor. Her face was turned toward the faint light from the window, lost in thought.

She didn’t say a word when he placed the tray near her. Yet he noticed that her hands trembled slightly, as if she was gathering all her courage to resist retreating into herself.

“I brought you something to eat, my lady,” he said softly, kneeling beside the tray.

She pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment before replying. “You’re wasting your time. I won’t make this easy for you.”

He smiled slightly, but there was no arrogance in his expression. “I don’t need you to make it easy. I am patient.”

She let out an annoyed sigh, but there was something softer in her tone—weariness mixed with a hint of resignation. “Why do you persist? I don’t want your help. I don’t want you here.”

Cassius took a spoonful of the steaming soup and held it out to her with calm determination. “You can say whatever you want, my lady. But there’s a difference between what you say and what you need.”

Y/N turned her head toward him, her brows furrowed. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could hear the firmness in his voice. It unsettled her, as if he could see through her words, through her defenses.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” she said, her voice tinged with the slightest trace of fear.

Cassius tilted his head slightly. “And I won’t. You can eat on your own. But if you don’t… then I will do it for you.”

She felt her chest tighten. He wasn’t joking. By now, she knew him well enough to understand that he always kept his promises. And though it frustrated her, a small part of her—just the smallest part—felt strangely relieved by his presence.

After a long silence, she finally reached out and took the spoon. “Fine,” she murmured, a mix of defiance and surrender in her voice. “But it’s not because I trust you.”

Cassius nodded, a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze. “I never said you had to trust me. That will come with time.”

She took a spoonful of soup, then another, in silence. He didn’t say anything, simply watching from a distance, ready to step in if she stopped. But she continued, even though every bite seemed like an immense effort.

When she finally finished, she placed the spoon down with a sigh. “Now, will you finally leave and let me be?”

Cassius stood, retrieving the tray with ease. Before stepping out of the room, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in an hour to take you to the bath. I suggest you don’t fight me this time, my lady.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but he was already gone, the door closing behind him.

She clenched her fists, her nails pressing lightly into her palms. He drove her mad. And yet, a strange warmth—one she didn’t understand—began to settle within her.

For the first time, she wondered if she was ready to lower her walls just a little, just to see what he would do.

---

Cassius scrutinized his own reflection in the cracked mirror of the small room he had been assigned. His features were calm, almost neutral, but deep within his eyes, shards of hatred lay buried—an old hatred, hardened by time. He had taken this position for one clear reason: to destroy the Delarives. To take back everything they had stolen from his family.

He remembered the day when everything had crumbled for the Changs. His father, a respected noble, had been dragged through the mud by a wave of accusations orchestrated by the Delarives. The land, the titles, the fortune—everything had been taken from them. His mother had succumbed to illness soon after, broken by humiliation and poverty. Cassius, still a young man at the time, had wandered in the shadows for years, nurturing his vengeance.

When he learned that Y/N Delarive lived alone, isolated in the annex, he knew his chance had finally come. She, the scorned youngest daughter, the one even her own family seemed to want to erase, was his way in. Becoming her servant was a humiliation he was willing to endure for his ultimate goal: their ruin.

Why Y/N?

Because she was their weakness.

Cassius knew that the Delarives’ reputation rested on a carefully maintained façade. A wealthy, powerful, exemplary family. But a blind, unstable daughter, treated like a shadow, could become their greatest liability. If Y/N became a public problem, if the rumors about her spread, if her very existence became an unbearable burden, the Delarives would begin to falter.

By entering her world, he intended to manipulate her, feed her despair, and use her isolation against them. He wanted them to reject her even more violently, to expose themselves to the county as the monsters they truly were. Once they were weakened, he would strike at the heart, revealing the truth about the wealth they had stolen from his family.

But as he got closer to Y/N, he discovered a reality he had not anticipated: she was not just a tool, a weapon to sharpen against them. She was a broken soul, haunted by a life of contempt and solitude.

It had been several days since he had entered her service, and each interaction unsettled him more and more. Y/N was nothing like her brothers, sisters, or father. She had none of their arrogance or cruelty. Instead, she was a wounded creature, hiding behind walls of anger and mistrust.

And yet, she fought. She fought against him, against her own weakness, against the fear that held her captive. He had seen her reject food, refuse to wash, throw objects in fits of almost childlike rage. But beyond those impulsive gestures, he also saw a woman who had learned to survive alone in a house that hated her.

He hadn’t expected his anger to clash with his humanity.

That evening, after Y/N had finally eaten for the first time without resistance, Cassius allowed himself a moment of reflection. He had not yet advanced in his plan. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to focus on his revenge, to remain cold and methodical. But a part of him, small and silent, was beginning to stir.

Was she truly like the rest of her family?

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. Innocent or guilty, it didn’t matter—she was still a link in the chain that had destroyed his family. By becoming her servant, he had not committed to protecting her. He had committed to bringing down the Delarives.

But for now, he had to remain patient. He had to continue playing the perfect role. Earn Y/N’s trust just enough to guide her where he wanted. No matter if it meant enduring her outbursts or her insults. No matter if it meant walking the fine line between obsession and pity.

As he blew out the candle in his room, his final thoughts were of her, the "young mistress" he addressed not out of respect, but out of irony.

“I will lead you where I want, my lady,” he murmured into the darkness. “Whether you want it or not.”

---

The next morning, the sun timidly pierced through the thick curtains of the annex, casting a soft, pale light into Y/N’s room. She sat on her bed, motionless, listening intently for any sound. Cassius had not entered yet. It worried her, though she would never admit it out loud.

Since his arrival, he had been constant, present like a shadow she couldn’t dispel. And despite her efforts to push him away, he always returned, unwavering. She should have been relieved that he was late. Yet instead, a strange emptiness was growing inside her chest.

Finally, the familiar sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, and the door creaked open. Cassius entered, carrying another tray of food. As usual, his expression was calm, but his eyes quickly scanned her, as if ensuring she was safe.

“You’re late,” she snapped, her tone sharp, though her voice was weaker than usual.

He raised an eyebrow, amused by her remark. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me, my lady.”

She turned her head away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “I wasn’t waiting. I was merely noting your lack of punctuality.”

He placed the tray near her and settled into a chair, as if this conversation was just part of their usual routine. “You’re observant today. Perhaps you’re simply in a better mood.”

Y/N frowned, irritated by his light tone. “Don’t act as if you know me. You know nothing about me.”

He remained silent for a moment, his eyes softening almost imperceptibly. “You’re right, I don’t know everything. But I observe you, and every day, I learn a little more.”

She clenched the sheets beneath her fists, his words both aggravating and unsettling her. “You’re wasting your time, Cassius. I am not like the others. I am not… normal. You can’t learn anything from me.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his expression turning serious. “Not normal, you say? Because you’re blind? Because your family cast you aside? Is that what you believe, or what they made you believe?”

Her breath caught in her throat. His words, though spoken gently, struck her like a blade. She turned her head away, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

His voice softened even more as he continued, “My lady, perhaps you don’t need me. But I need you.”

His declaration unsettled her, and she sat up slightly, her heart pounding. “You… need me? Why?”

Cassius rose from his chair, his gaze unwavering. “Because you are the key. The key to breaking free from the prison your family built around you.”

He paused, then added in a quieter tone, “And perhaps also… because I want to see what you’re capable of, Y/N.”

It was the first time he had spoken her name without the title of "my lady." She didn’t know why it affected her so much, but a strange warmth spread through her chest.

He turned away then, picking up the empty tray from the previous day, and stopped at the door. “Eat. And get ready. I’ll be back to take you outside. You’ve spent too much time locked in here.”

“Outside?” she repeated, alarmed.

He didn’t answer, closing the door behind him.

Cassius knew it was risky. Taking her beyond the annex could draw attention, and the Delarives were not the type to appreciate their "secret" being exposed. But he needed her to leave this prison. Not just for her, but for himself. He had to understand just how far he could push this strange connection forming between them.

Destroying the Delarives was still his goal, but a part of him was beginning to wonder if Y/N, despite her ties to that cursed family, deserved something else.

And that… he couldn’t afford to consider. Not yet.

But the game was changing. Slowly, but surely.

---

Cassius watched as Y/N struggled to stand. Her frail, trembling legs seemed incapable of supporting her weight. It had been months, perhaps years, since she had truly moved beyond her bed, and her body reflected it—every movement was hesitant, clumsy, almost painful to witness.

She clenched her fists, frustrated, and attempted a step. But before she could advance, her knees buckled. Cassius rushed forward, catching her in his arms before she could collapse.

“Let me go!” she growled, but her voice wavered more than it held strength.

He ignored her protest, gently setting her upright again, his hands steady on her shoulders to keep her balanced. “My lady, you are stubborn, but you can’t do everything alone.”

“I don’t need you. I can walk!”

She tried to pull away, but Cassius remained firm. His expression was calm, yet his heart pounded with an intensity he couldn’t explain. Seeing Y/N in this vulnerable state stirred a strange contradiction within him—a mix of admiration for her strength and a pain he refused to acknowledge.

Day after day, he helped her learn to walk again. Each morning, he supported her gently, his hands always ready to catch her if she fell. At first, she resisted, throwing insults and bitter words at him to make him leave. But over time, an unspoken truce settled between them.

Cassius said nothing, but he observed. He noticed the small victories in her movements—the way she managed to stand a little longer each day or the fleeting hint of a smile she refused to let linger when she succeeded in taking a step without his help.

He found himself watching her longer than he should, his gaze drawn to the determination shining on her face. This young woman, whom he had first considered nothing more than a tool in his plan for vengeance, was becoming something else. But he refused to put a name to what he was feeling.

One day, after multiple failed attempts, Y/N finally managed to walk with relative stability. Cassius decided it was time to take her outside.

“Are you ready, my lady?” he asked, adjusting a scarf around her shoulders.

Y/N hesitated, her hand brushing uncertainly against the fabric. “I’m not sure… I’ve never gone out alone before.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

Those simple words, spoken with sincerity, had a calming effect on her. She nodded timidly, and he took her hand in his, guiding her out of the annex.

The outside air was crisp, filled with the songs of birds. Y/N inhaled deeply, as if rediscovering a world she had long forgotten. Cassius walked beside her, his hands firmly placed over hers to guide her along the forest paths.

“It’s different…” she murmured.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. The air smells… more alive here. And I hear things. Birds. The wind in the trees.”

He glanced at her, fascinated. Every word she spoke revealed a curiosity she had buried under years of fear and mistrust. A strange warmth filled his chest—an emotion he didn’t want to name: pride.

But as they walked, Cassius noticed something in the distance, beyond the grove of trees. A dark figure stood among the shadows, and his instincts screamed at him to investigate.

“Stay here, my lady,” he said quickly.

“Where are you going?” Y/N asked, her voice tense.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t move.”

Before she could protest, he released her hands and disappeared into the trees.

At first, Y/N remained still, trying to calm the unease growing inside her. But soon, the very sounds of the forest that had fascinated her moments ago became threatening. The rustling leaves, the snapping branches—everything seemed to close in around her.

She reached out, searching for something solid, but the emptiness around her filled her with terror.

“Cassius!” she called out, but only the echo of her voice answered.

Panic took over. She turned in circles, her feet stumbling over roots and stones. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as fear and anger twisted inside her in an uncontrollable storm.

When Cassius finally returned, he found her curled up on the ground, her hands trembling with rage. As soon as she heard his footsteps, she lifted her head and screamed at him:

“Where were you?! You left me! You left me all alone!”

He immediately knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here now. You’re safe, my lady.”

But she didn’t want to calm down. She weakly struck his chest over and over, her gestures fueled more by desperation than true anger. “You abandoned me… I… I waited for you. I… I never want to be alone like that again!”

Cassius gently caught her wrists, stopping her weak blows, his gaze filled with guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I won’t leave you alone again.”

At last, she stilled, her hands relaxing in his. But instead of pulling away, she clung to his clothes, her fingers gripping his tunic with desperate force.

“Promise me,” she whispered.

“I promise, my lady,” he answered softly.

For the first time, Cassius felt a weight settle in his chest. He knew that this promise, as simple as it seemed, was far more than just words. It was a line he had just crossed, a barrier he could no longer ignore.

---

The wind had picked up, rustling the curtains of the annex. Cassius sat near the window, his mind occupied with his plan. Since his arrival, he had patiently studied the weaknesses of the Delarive family. He knew their habits, their secrets, and their vulnerabilities. But what troubled him most was Y/N.

Since that promise in the forest, something within him had changed. She was no longer just a means to an end. He felt a responsibility toward her—an inexplicable desire to protect her. A contradiction that tore at him more and more each day.

Yet, he never forgot why he was there. Today, he had to move forward with his plan. He had not yet decided how to use Y/N against her family, but an opportunity presented itself sooner than expected.

That morning, as he helped Y/N prepare for her daily walk, the sound of carriage wheels echoed outside. Y/N froze, listening intently.

"What is that?" she asked warily.

Cassius glanced out the window and saw two figures stepping down from the carriage. A man and a woman, elegantly dressed, approached the annex. He recognized them immediately: Y/N’s older brother, Charles, and her younger sister, Adeline.

"Your family," he answered calmly.

Y/N paled, her fingers clutching nervously at the fabric of her dress. "Why are they here? They never come… unless…"

Cassius placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Whatever their intentions, I am here. Stay calm, my lady."

She nodded, but her entire body trembled.

A few minutes later, Charles and Adeline entered the annex, their imposing presence filling the small space. Charles, tall and austere, regarded Y/N with a gaze full of contempt, while Adeline wore a smug smile, lazily flicking her fan through the air.

"Well, Y/N," Charles drawled sarcastically. "You’re as charming as ever. Solitude seems to suit you."

Adeline let out a crystalline laugh. "You could at least make an effort to look presentable. Even in such a pitiful state, you could have a shred of dignity."

Y/N remained silent, her hands trembling slightly. Cassius, standing behind her, clenched his fists. He knew he couldn’t openly interfere, but watching Y/N endure such humiliation ignited a fury within him that was hard to suppress.

"What do you want?" Y/N asked in a hoarse voice.

Charles stepped forward, a predatory smirk on his lips. "What do we want? Come now, Y/N, we’re simply here to check on you. After all, you are our dear sister."

Adeline added with false sweetness, "We were worried. You know, rumors in the county are getting out of hand. Some people are saying… terrible things. You should be careful."

Y/N felt her heart grow heavy. She knew exactly what they meant. This was no visit of concern. They were here to ensure she remained in her place—out of sight, away from the power they wielded.

Seeing Y/N crumble under their verbal assaults, Cassius decided to step in. He moved forward slightly, placing himself between her and her tormentors.

"May I offer you something to drink, sir, madam?" he asked politely, his tone measured, but his eyes betraying a cold determination.

Charles eyed him with disdain. "And who are you?"

"Cassius, my lady’s personal servant," he replied, deliberately emphasizing the title.

Adeline raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Personal? Why on earth would she need a personal servant? She does nothing but exist."

Cassius forced a smile. "Precisely. It is my duty to ensure she has everything she needs, despite… the circumstances."

Charles narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. "You seem overly zealous for someone of your station."

"I am merely fulfilling my duty, sir," Cassius said with a practiced bow.

During the brief exchange, he felt Y/N subtly clutch at his sleeve, seeking silent support. That small gesture only strengthened his resolve.

When Charles and Adeline finally left, Cassius remained by the window, watching the carriage disappear down the path. He knew they would return. Their arrogance and need for control would not allow them to ignore Y/N for long.

But that played to his advantage. The more they interfered, the more opportunities he had to sow discord.

Y/N, meanwhile, looked exhausted, curled up in the chair. "Why… why didn’t you chase them away?" she murmured.

Cassius knelt beside her, placing a hand over hers. "Because they must not suspect that you have regained any strength, however small. Letting them believe they still hold control is our greatest weapon."

She lifted her head, her unseeing eyes fixed on a point beyond him. "You say ‘our.’ Why are you doing this for me?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering softly, "Because you deserve better than them. And because sometimes, one must wait for the right moment to strike."

She didn’t fully grasp the deeper meaning behind his words, but something in his voice soothed her.

Cassius, however, knew that every word he spoke was another step forward in his strategy. For now, he played the role of the protector. But soon, he would turn their own weapons against them, and the Delarives would regret stealing what rightfully belonged to his family.

---

Night had fallen, wrapping the annex in a heavy silence. Cassius sat at his desk in the small room he occupied near Y/N’s chamber, studying a map of the estate he had acquired during one of his incursions into the main house. Every secret passage, every hiding place of the Delarive family was now etched into his mind.

Between his fingers, he held a golden brooch adorned with a ruby—a remnant of his family’s former wealth. The Delarives had once owned it, but he had reclaimed it during a visit to the manor’s library. A small victory among the many he planned to achieve.

For Cassius, the visit from Charles and Adeline had confirmed one thing: their contempt for Y/N was their Achilles’ heel. Their arrogance, their certainty that she posed no threat, would be the very weakness through which he would infiltrate and destroy them.

The next day, Cassius decided to initiate the first phase of his plan: strengthening Y/N.

He knew she would never be a willing ally. Her distrust and isolation made her wild and unpredictable. But he had observed, in her rare moments of calm, a spark of intelligence and strength that he could use to his advantage.

At dawn, he entered her room, carrying a plate of food in one hand and a wooden staff in the other.

“Here again to force me to eat?” Y/N grumbled, turning her head toward the door.

Cassius set the plate on the table. “My lady, you need strength. Not just to walk, but to resist those who wish to harm you.”

She narrowed her eyes, wary. “What do you mean?”

He sat calmly on a chair across from her. “Your brother and sister will return. And they won’t come just to talk. You must be ready to defend yourself.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “You want me, a blind woman, to defend myself against them? What a joke.”

“Blindness is not a weakness,” he replied gently. “Your other senses are sharper than you think. And with a little training, you could surprise anyone.”

Y/N remained silent, torn between rejecting his words and accepting them. She had spent her whole life as a victim, but a part of her longed to be something more.

“If I refuse, you’ll force me, won’t you?” she murmured.

Cassius gave the faintest of smiles. “You’re starting to understand me.”

He began with simple exercises. He had her hold the staff, helping her get familiar with its weight and texture. Then, he guided her through basic movements, teaching her to strike in different directions using only sound as her guide.

“Listen,” he said with every lesson. “Every sound tells a story. The rustle of fabric, the creak of wood underfoot… they tell you where your opponent is.”

At first, Y/N was hesitant, often stumbling or striking into empty air. But Cassius was patient. Every correction was gentle, every encouragement sincere.

Over time, she began to improve. Her stance grew steadier, her movements more precise.

One afternoon, he decided to test her outside. He led her to the garden near the annex, a place where she could hear the birds and smell the flowers.

“We’re going to play a game,” he announced. “I’ll walk around you, and you have to find me. Use your ears, your instinct.”

She frowned. “This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he replied with a light laugh. “But try anyway.”

He stepped away, moving in a slow circle around her, his footsteps deliberately light. Y/N remained still, focused. Then, suddenly, she lifted the staff and struck in his direction.

He dodged swiftly, but a proud smile lit up his face. “Well done, my lady. You found me.”

Y/N lowered the staff, a mix of surprise and pride crossing her features. “That was just luck.”

“Perhaps. But it’s a start.”

---

Dawn cast a pale light over the annex when Cassius was awakened by urgent knocks at the door. A servant, sent from the main house, delivered news that made a cold smile form on his lips, despite the grave tone in which it was spoken.

“An emergency meeting will be held tonight in the grand salon. Master Charles and Miss Adeline have summoned important guests from the county. It seems to be a pressing matter concerning the family.”

Cassius nodded slowly, masking his excitement behind a veil of calm. He could already guess what was happening. Something unexpected must have threatened the Delarives—something they were desperate to silence.

By discreetly listening to the servants’ conversations and piecing together clues, Cassius quickly understood. An anonymous letter had been sent to several county officials, accusing the Delarives of amassing their wealth through illicit means, by unlawfully seizing the assets of a fallen noble family.

It was the kind of rumor that could destroy a reputation, especially in a society where family honor was everything. Cassius knew this was the moment he had been waiting for all these years. If the rumor gained traction, it would bring the Delarives to their knees, shattering both their fortune and their status.

But there was a shadow over his impending triumph. A shadow that bore the name of Y/N.

Since that night in the forest, Y/N had become slightly more open. She spoke more, though her words still carried traces of distrust. She had started to smile again—a rare, fragile, yet sincere smile. Cassius couldn’t help but notice the unsteady beat of his heart whenever she laughed softly, whenever she found a fleeting moment of peace.

As he prepared for the next steps in his revenge, he caught himself thinking of her. Not in terms of how she could be useful to him, but of what would become of her afterward.

If the Delarive family fell, Y/N would be the first to suffer. Isolated, despised by all, she would become an easy target for the rest of the county. Worse still, she could be cast out into the streets, unable to survive on her own because of her blindness.

The thought haunted him, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

On the night of the meeting, Cassius slipped silently through the corridors of the main house. He had carefully planned his next move. While the county officials gathered in the grand salon, he used the chaos to sneak into Charles’ office, stealing incriminating documents—irrefutable proof of embezzlement and illegal acquisitions.

With these documents, he could ignite a scandal so massive that the Delarives would never recover.

But as he made his way back to the annex, his steps slowed. Each page in his hands was a step closer to his vengeance, but also a sentence for Y/N.

She was waiting for him in the sitting room, seated in her favorite chair. She turned her head slightly at the sound of his footsteps.

“You’re late,” she murmured.

Cassius placed the documents gently on the table before stepping toward her. “Important matters.”

She furrowed her brows slightly. “You’re always busy. Sometimes, I feel like you do so many things I don’t understand.”

He knelt before her, taking her hands in his. “What if I told you that I do all of this for you?”

She pulled her hands away abruptly, instinctive distrust flashing across her face. “Why would you do that? I’m nothing. A blind girl that everyone despises.”

“You are far more than that, Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth he hadn’t intended.

She remained silent, troubled by the sincerity in his tone.

Later, alone in his room, Cassius stared at the documents spread across his desk. The plan he had built for years was nearly complete. All he had to do was send the evidence to the right people, and the Delarives would be ruined.

But one question echoed in his mind: what would happen to Y/N afterward?

He could already see the look on her face when she learned the truth. The contempt she would feel for him, the pain of being betrayed by the only person she had begun to trust.

For the first time since his quest for revenge had begun, Cassius hesitated. Not because he doubted his plan, but because his heart—one he had believed to be hardened—was starting to stir.

He spent the night weighing his options. Part of him wanted to move forward without looking back, to fulfill the vow he had made to his family. But another part—the one that remembered Y/N’s laughter, the way her hand had clung to his in the forest—refused to sacrifice her for his hatred.

By dawn, Cassius knew he had to make a choice. Either he completed his revenge, even if it meant losing Y/N forever, or he found a way to save her—even if it meant abandoning his plan.

He stood, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon.

For the first time, he felt lost.

His heart and his reason were at war, and he did not yet know which would prevail.

---

The morning was cold, but a light breeze rustled the leaves of the trees surrounding the annex. The sky was clear, scattered with wisps of clouds, and everything felt calm, almost unreal. Yet, a tension lingered in the air, a fragile balance between what Cassius had planned and Y/N’s desires—desires he couldn’t quite understand. That morning, he watched her prepare with an energy he hadn’t seen in a long time.

She insisted on going outside.

She, who usually spent her days indoors, hiding beneath blankets or behind invisible walls only her eyes could perceive, suddenly seemed full of life. There was no apparent reason for this drastic change. Cassius observed her, perplexed, as he helped her put on warm clothes—a thick wool coat, a scarf around her neck, gloves. He protected her as he always did, yet something about her seemed to slip beyond his understanding. She seemed... almost happy.

"You don’t have to follow me today," she said abruptly as he adjusted her scarf. Her words were almost detached, as if she was trying to push him away. But in her tone, there was also a note of softness, almost a challenge. She knew he would follow her, no matter what she said.

Cassius didn’t respond immediately. He was used to this now. Over the past few weeks, she had become more and more unpredictable. He hadn’t planned for that, but he didn’t mind. He followed her in silence, his thoughts still troubled by his own inner conflicts. He couldn’t understand why he felt so torn. Why did this simple walk feel so heavy to him?

They walked together, the icy air biting at their faces, but there was no conversation. Y/N’s steps were a little hesitant, still uncertain, but steadier than before. A faint smile tugged at Cassius’s lips as he watched her so determined. He accompanied her without question, simply guiding her when needed.

Then, suddenly, in a moment of inattention, Y/N let go of his hand. He felt his heart stop for an instant, a shiver of panic running through him. She moved quickly toward a tree a few steps away.

"Y/N!" he called, but it was too late. She was already climbing.

In a matter of seconds, she pulled herself onto the lowest branch, and with astonishing grace, climbed higher, smiling as if the whole world was nothing but a playground.

Cassius froze, caught between shock and concern. His mind raced, imagining hundreds of scenarios where she could fall, where she could get hurt. But when he lifted his gaze to her, he saw something unexpected—she was laughing. Laughing! She laughed like a child, completely oblivious to the danger she had just created.

There she was, perched at a height he didn’t consider safe, and her eyes, though unable to see the world around her, shone with light and freedom. She smiled, the wind playing with her hair, and for a fraction of a second, she seemed... alive in a way he had never imagined.

He felt lost.

This wasn’t the fragile girl he had grown used to, the one who stayed in bed, shielding herself from the world. No, this was a different Y/N—stronger, more defiant. She was there, challenging the height, challenging everything he thought he knew about her.

"Do you need a hand?" he called up to her, a hint of worry in his voice despite the smile he tried to hide.

She laughed even louder, the sound ringing through the crisp air. "Are you really trying to stop me from having fun?" she teased, a playfulness in her voice he had never heard before.

He stepped cautiously closer to the tree, his eyes never leaving her movements, ready to catch her if necessary.

He could have ordered her to come down, scolded her for taking such a reckless risk, but instead, he just watched her, an unfamiliar sense of admiration creeping into his chest.

She looked... free.

And yet, with every smile she gave him, with every laugh that echoed in the air, he realized he still didn’t understand.

How could he love this girl while knowing he was about to destroy everything she had? Knowing that, inevitably, he would lose her?

Suddenly, he became aware that he was standing there, beneath the tree, hesitating—trapped in an internal conflict he could no longer ignore.

On one side, there was the plan, the revenge he had nurtured for years.

On the other, there was her—this elusive girl who had appeared like a ray of light in his dark world.

What should he do?

She finally climbed down, landing gracefully on the ground like a cat. When she turned to face him, her smile faded slightly. "Do you want to go back?" she asked softly, suddenly sounding less carefree, as if, somehow, she knew something had changed between them.

Cassius looked at her, a storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

But only one question remained, firmly rooted in his heart:

What would happen to her after all of this?

---

Cassius spent his days in a constant state of inner turmoil, torn between his quest for revenge and the growing shadow of his feelings for Y/N. Every gesture, every word from the young woman seemed to unsettle him, pushing him to doubt his intentions. It was no longer just a matter of justice to him; it had become a question of emotional survival. The plan he had put in place, the one he had meticulously crafted, no longer made sense.

The compromising documents, the revenge he had envisioned—all of it was gradually falling apart in the face of what he felt for her. How could he destroy the family that had mistreated him while saving Y/N from the same fate he had in store for her? How could he protect her while pursuing his own quest for justice? Every time he asked himself this question, the answer remained vague, elusive.

He could no longer look at her without thinking about what he would inflict on her. And yet, he was so drawn to her, to her fragility, but also to her unexpected strength. She had something purely human about her, an inner beauty he hadn’t seen coming, and it struck him with every glance.

But everything changed one morning.

That morning, he realized he could no longer ignore the signs. Y/N, who had usually been in better health than in recent days, suddenly seemed exhausted, almost lifeless. She wasn’t getting up like she usually did, and when he joined her in the small room where she spent most of her time, he noticed her pale complexion. Her cheeks, usually rosy, were now a grayish tint, almost translucent.

"Y/N?" he called gently as he approached.

She barely lifted her head, her eyes half-closed, and her breathing seemed heavier than usual. She touched her temple, and a shiver ran through her body.

"I… I’m just a little tired…" she murmured, but her voice was weak, trembling.

Cassius, although used to keeping a certain distance, couldn’t hold back a shiver of concern. He knelt beside her, a strange sensation of vulnerability overwhelming him. He had never seen Y/N in such a state. The reality of her fragility, of her dependence on him, hit him like a punch in the stomach.

He gently lifted her to carry her to her bed, her body trembling with fever.

As the day wore on, the situation quickly deteriorated. Y/N had developed a high fever, her body shaking beneath the covers as she was completely disoriented, almost lost. She could no longer speak coherently, and her arms frantically tried to cling to him, like an anchor.

She kept repeating incoherent words, her voice broken by fever. "Don’t leave me… I’m scared…"

Cassius felt a dull pain invade his chest. This couldn’t be happening, not after everything he had planned. Not after everything he had built. Why the hell did he feel so powerless? He had never considered that his own plan for revenge could one day make him feel so vulnerable. It wasn’t part of the calculations.

He reached into his emergency bag and prepared warm water for a compress. His hands trembled slightly. As he helped cool her down, he felt her burning skin, struggling against the intense heat that seemed to consume her from the inside. She clung to him tighter, unable to find comfort elsewhere.

"I’m here," he whispered to her, although the words seemed insignificant in the face of the pain he saw in her eyes. "I won’t leave you."

She closed her eyes, folding into him, as if his mere presence was the only thing that could reassure her.

He knew he needed to find a doctor. But at that moment, nothing mattered more to him than staying by her side.

As he kept vigil over her, he found himself looking at her more intensely. She was no longer just the girl he had known in the coldness of the annex, nor even the object of his revenge. She was a young woman, lost and fragile, but also incredibly alive, who had pulled him into a whirlwind of emotions and doubts he no longer knew how to handle. He had tried to ignore her, to push her away, but he had never been able to.

And there, in that room, holding her against him, feeling the heat of her burning body, he finally understood what he needed to do.

He couldn’t let her die.

Not now, not ever.

But how could he save Y/N while destroying his family? How could he fix everything he had broken in her without being the one who had destroyed her? This dilemma remained as heavy as a burden he could no longer bear alone.

He looked at Y/N, her face, usually so closed off, now peaceful in sleep, her features softened by the fever. She had given him a trust he hadn’t asked for, but that he hadn’t known how to refuse.

She was no longer an instrument of vengeance, no longer just a target. She had become… his responsibility.

And for the first time, Cassius wondered if he needed her as much as she needed him.

---

The morning rose peacefully over the annex, a soft light filtering through the still-closed curtains. Y/N's fever had slightly subsided through the night, though it was still present. She was still sleeping, her pale face marked by exhaustion, but a sense of tranquility had replaced the restlessness of the previous day. Cassius, still by her side, silently observed the scene, his thoughts in turmoil.

He finally stood up to approach her, taking a moment to appreciate the simplicity of the moment. The weight of revenge, his relentless plan, suddenly seemed so distant, almost blurry. In this confined space, he no longer saw Y/N as the target of a complex scheme. No, he saw only a fragile, vulnerable young woman, dependent on him in a way he never could have imagined.

Suddenly, a slight movement. Y/N shifted under the covers, her hands trembling before reaching out slowly, with surprising gentleness. She extended her fingers as though trying to identify something in the darkness of the room. Her fingers slid slowly over Cassius's face, first on his cheek, then on his forehead, his eyes, exploring his face as if it were a mysterious puzzle she was trying to solve. She was blind, of course, but her movements were so filled with delicacy, with an almost innocent curiosity.

"Is it you?" Her voice was broken, but there was no aggression in her words. Just a softness, almost fragile, as though she sought the truth in a world she couldn’t see.

Cassius, caught off guard, remained still. He hadn't imagined that she would act this way, that in this state of weakness, she would allow herself to touch his face with such ease. It was a tender gesture, and it made a lump form in his throat. Part of him wanted to push her away, remind her of the reasons he was there. But another side of him, deeper, simply wanted to stay there, under her fingers, to be touched like an ordinary man, without the weight of revenge on his shoulders.

She finally turned away, as if she had found her answer, but her trembling fingers lingered for a moment, suspended in the air, before lowering back down onto the sheet.

"You're not what I thought," she murmured more softly, as if in realization.

A shockwave ran through Cassius. She wasn’t just a victim in his plan, not a puppet for his revenge. She was more than that. He wasn’t ready for this recognition, this return from Y/N. His own feelings seemed to change, realigning with each moment he spent by her side. The plan he had put together so carefully, every detail designed to destroy her family, suddenly became difficult to carry out. The image of Y/N blurred in his mind.

But he didn’t have time to lose himself in his thoughts. An unexpected visit arrived in the afternoon.

In the neighboring room, a messenger from the empire came to bring him urgent news. It was the man with whom he had long formed ties in the shadows, an influential figure in the empire who shared his ambitions. After exchanging a few words, the man presented an audacious proposal: an opportunity to take possession of Y/N's family fortune after their fall. This fortune, once belonging to his family, would now be in his hands, and all he had to do was continue his revenge, ensuring her family’s destruction.

Cassius felt a cold chill take over him, but it wasn’t because of the approaching winter. It was the heavy realization that flooded him. This proposal reeked of power, of revenge, but it was also poison. Every piece of the puzzle seemed to fit perfectly. The revenge he had built, as solid as a house of cards, seemed ready to collapse at any moment. But the question remained: would he be able to see it through?

He didn’t have time to respond immediately. His thoughts were spinning too fast, a mix of anger and confusion.

In the back of his mind, he knew what he had to do. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the chance to reclaim what he had lost. But deep in his heart, something more profound tormented him.

When he returned to Y/N’s room, he found her sleeping, her breathing calmer, but her fever hadn’t fully gone. Her face seemed more peaceful, without the frantic restlessness of the previous day. A faint smile formed on her lips as she slept, and a painful thought brushed Cassius’s mind.

How could he continue to treat her as a mere victim of his plan, when she was showing him a trust he hadn’t anticipated? He felt torn. He didn’t want to be that cold monster who would destroy her family, but he had invested too much time in this revenge to erase it all. And now that Y/N was closer to him, more human, he realized he didn’t know if revenge was still the only thing he truly desired.

Suddenly, he felt trapped. He had the opportunity to annihilate Y/N's family and seize a vast fortune, but at what cost? And what would happen to Y/N in all of this? The mere thought of seeing her destroyed because of his own desire for revenge put him in a state of deep confusion. His emotions were at war, and he no longer had any certainty about the path ahead.

He sat down beside the bed, looking at her deeply, as though it were the last time he could truly see her without the weight of his vengeance. But, deep down, he knew the time for decisions was near. The question now was simple: would he be able to sacrifice everything for a different future? A future with her, or a future where he would be alone with his revenge?

But for now, all that mattered was Y/N’s fever. He would watch over her, again and again, without knowing what the future held.

---

The morning light barely filtered through the windows when Cassius rose, his eyes fixed on Y/N's face. She was still asleep, her features calm as the fever that had gripped her slowly began to fade. Yet, in the silence of the room, he could feel the weight of his own thoughts, the vise tightening around his heart and mind. He no longer had room for indecision.

The messenger, the influential man from the empire, had handed him the opportunity he had long dreamed of. Revenge was within reach. Y/N's family, the family that had brought about his downfall, would soon be shattered, and the fortune he sought would fall into his hands. A brand-new empire to build from the ashes of those who had destroyed him. In his mind, it was a perfect plan. He had crafted it with precision, every move calculated, every detail considered.

But something had changed, something subtle yet powerful. It was the image of Y/N, fragile, vulnerable, caught between fear and trust. She, despite her wounds, her anger, and her mistrust, had allowed him to get close. She, in her greatest weakness, had reached out to him. She, despite her blindness, seemed to see something in him that he didn’t understand, but that deep in his heart, had transformed him.

Days passed, and each moment spent by her side seemed to reshape his view of the world. He had sworn that nothing, no one, would stop him in his pursuit of revenge. But now, he found himself at a crossroads. Revenge… or Y/N.

He turned toward her, his eyes fixed on the fragile figure lying in her bed. He remembered the way she had touched him, trying to understand the mystery of his face, as if she believed he was anything but what he appeared to be. That gesture had marked him more than he had ever imagined. An indelible memory. A doubt. A conflict.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he stood. His mind fought against itself, torn between the calculated coldness of his revenge and the strange warmth that seemed to rise within him for Y/N. He could no longer pretend that all of this was just about a plan. His feelings were now intertwined in a complex and painful web.

He approached Y/N, kneeling beside the bed. He looked at her for a moment, hesitating. Then, he gently reached out toward her forehead, touching her fevered skin. He remembered the warmth of her fingers when she had brushed his face, the strange connection that had formed with each encounter, each word exchanged. The tenderness he had felt in that sudden touch… He couldn’t ignore it. She wasn’t like the others, but not in the way he had once thought. She wasn’t weak. She was just… human.

"I will protect you," he murmured, almost like a vow.

The decision, finally, was taking shape. Cassius knew what he had to do. He could no longer manipulate Y/N. He could no longer view her as a mere pawn in his game. He had seen her, listened to her, and now he understood her more than he ever felt capable of. It was her family he wanted to destroy, not her. And if that meant changing his plans, taking reckless risks to help her, then he was ready to do it.

It wasn’t revenge that called to him now. It was her. Y/N. The young woman he had come to know, who, despite all she had endured, possessed a strength he never would have believed could exist within her.

He stood up, his gaze resolute. The outside world would take care of its own cruelties. But Y/N, she deserved something different. And for the first time since he had entered her life, Cassius felt he was making a decision for himself. Not for his family, nor for his past. But for her.

He leaned over her again, this time with gentleness, and caressed her cheek. The moment had come.

"I will save you, Y/N," he said more firmly. "I will save what I can save."

He had made his decision. Everything was now clear. His thoughts were untangling, and the horizon before him seemed as uncertain as it was promising. Revenge, wealth—none of it mattered anymore. What he wanted now was to protect her.

And to do that, he knew his allies in the empire, those who had supported his machinations, would soon be in conflict with him. But he was ready. The man who had designed such a cold, precise plan was now being carried away by another feeling, one more human, more pure.

The coming days would be crucial. The lines between love, loyalty, and revenge would likely blur. But Cassius was no longer afraid to face that truth. He would save Y/N. No matter the cost.

---

The nights stretched into a litany of reflections and torment. Each minute, each moment spent with Y/N slowly broke down the walls of his certainties. Cassius had sworn, multiple times, not to let his feelings interfere with his revenge. He had told himself that everything he was doing was to right the wrong done to his family, to take back what life had stolen from him. But with every glance he cast at Y/N, every time he saw her in her innocence, in her vulnerability, he felt something he had not anticipated.

He had not seen this coming. He had not understood the subtlety of the bond that had formed between them, slowly but surely. His emotions had become a whirlwind, his thoughts in perpetual battle. He had first seen her as an opportunity, a mere means to an end, but gradually, she had become more than that to him. A presence that occupied his mind far more than he would have liked.

He had watched her closely, the way she had clung to him during her illness, that fragile trust that slipped into her gestures, her words, her gaze. She had opened a door to him that he had never wanted to cross. The touch of her hands, the tenderness she had shown despite her blindness and pain… All of this had left indelible marks on his heart.

One evening, as he stood by the window, watching the glow of the moon reflecting off the calm surface of the nearby river, Cassius realized the truth. It was a raw revelation, without embellishments. He had fallen in love with her. He had tried to ignore it, to push the idea away, to convince himself it was just a distraction, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of his revenge. But it was no longer possible.

The smile that formed on his lips was both sweet and bitter. He had lost himself, and he knew it. But strangely, this realization was not a source of suffering, as he had believed it would be. No, on the contrary. It brought a certain lightness to his heart, as if, somehow, he had found a little clarity amidst all the chaos.

He was no longer the same man. The revenge he had carried for years had dulled under the weight of his feelings for her. But the time had not yet come to abandon everything, not just yet.

A few days after this realization, an unexpected call broke the silence. It was a message from one of his connections in the empire, a powerful figure who reminded him of the offer he had received. The opportunity to carry out his revenge, to ruin Y/N's family once and for all, was within reach. It was only a matter of time.

And then, the unthinkable happened: Cassius found himself facing reality, torn between two worlds. The revenge that had brought him this far, and Y/N, the love he had discovered in her.

In the end, he knew what he had to do. Revenge could no longer be the only thing that mattered. But he couldn’t ignore what he had started either. He had not yet finished what he had begun. It was a commitment he had made to himself, and he could not go back, even if his heart screamed at him to flee with her, to abandon everything.

He woke up early one morning after making his decision. Y/N was sleeping deeply, and even though she was still weak, he knew she would wake up soon. He looked at her one last time, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He approached the bed, gazed at her tenderly, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I will return," he murmured, almost like a vow, a promise to himself more than to her.

Then, silently, he left the annex, taking the path that would lead him away from her, toward the place where his revenge still awaited to be completed. Every step he took was heavy, every decision seemed to wrap around him like an invisible rope.

However, in his heart, a small flame burned, a spark of hope he could not ignore. Y/N, despite everything, had changed his world. He didn’t yet know how or when, but he knew he would return to her. The revenge would be finished, but there was a future to rebuild. A future where, perhaps, by her side, he would finally find peace.

The wind was blowing strongly that morning, carrying away a part of his certainties. But something new, something truer than revenge, was growing inside him. And deep down, he knew it was that love he had to protect, far more than anything else.

---

The days passed with an almost unbearable slowness. Cassius had carried out his revenge with the precision of a strategist, each move carefully calculated, every trap set with ruthless mastery. He had used his allies in the empire to orchestrate the fall of Y/N’s family, acting in the shadows, manipulating the weaknesses of those who had stripped his family of their lands and titles. Schemes, rumors, false testimonies… everything was put in place to dismantle what had been taken from his family and return it to his own bloodline.

Y/N knew nothing of what was happening. She was still weak, still recovering from the fever that had shaken her, and Cassius continued to protect her, keeping her away from the dangers without her noticing. He had never wanted her to suffer any more because of his past. But he, himself, immersed in this world of manipulation and strategy, had lost all sense of direction. The revenge had been carried out. The titles, the lands, the fortune were now his.

When the final blow was struck, when the judges, corrupted and influenced by his maneuvers, brought down Y/N’s family, he felt neither satisfaction nor relief. On the contrary, a heavy weight settled on his shoulders. Everything he had accomplished, everything he had sought to obtain suddenly seemed trivial in his eyes. He stood at the top, the fortune he had long desired within reach, but he felt more lost than ever.

He went to the great hall where the new titles and documents were placed before him, signed, sealed, official. The land of his ancestors, the wealth, it was all there, in his hands. But when his gaze dulled on the paper, there was only one thought that occupied his mind: Y/N.

His gaze turned toward the annex. The place that had been his refuge, and hers, away from the tumult of the world. There, amidst the riches and conquests of his inheritance, he knew he would only find peace when he returned to her, to the one person who had made him doubt everything he had believed.

A storm wind blew within him. He had lost everything for his revenge… except her.

He hurried back to the annex, his heart pounding. When his eyes finally landed on her, lying there in her bed, pale but calm, he felt as though his entire previous life had been nothing but a blurry dream, a nightmare in which he had lost himself. He had won, he had regained what was rightfully his, but the emptiness he felt had nothing to do with the revenge completed.

He sat by Y/N’s side, observing her for a long time, as though it was the first time he had truly seen her. She didn’t understand what was happening, nor what he had accomplished. But he knew that he had sacrificed everything for this revenge. And yet, this victory meant nothing without her.

He leaned over her, gently brushing her hair, and whispered, "I can’t abandon you."

He knew that his actions would make people talk. His former allies, his family members, would all oppose him, oppose this decision. He risked finding himself alone, without support, without allies, but he didn’t care. Titles, wealth, none of that mattered anymore. What he desired now was his place by her side, her protection, and her love.

A great upheaval was taking place in the domain, rumors spreading at lightning speed. The former servants of Y/N’s family, those who had been left behind, destabilized by the fall of their house, began to regroup to contest the new division of assets. Family members, furious and disgusted by Cassius’s rise to power, no longer kept their distance. The old world was collapsing, and a new one was rising, with Cassius and Y/N at the center of it all.

Messengers came, letters arrived. But all of this seemed so distant, so insignificant compared to what truly mattered. The outside world could get lost in its power struggles. He no longer had a reason to care about that. Y/N’s eyes, those eyes that could no longer see but seemed to see beyond appearances, were now all that mattered.

"I’m going to keep you close to me, no matter what happens," he said, his voice trembling, but firm.

And so, Cassius made his decision, with no turning back possible. He stood up in the room, the official documents of his inheritance in hand, and turned one last time toward the door. The outside world awaited him. But for the first time, he knew exactly where he had to go. Where Y/N was.

He turned away from the imposing estate, from the wealth that was now his, and went to find the one he had learned to love despite himself. It didn’t matter that the rumors, conflicts, and the empire’s stakes fought to take his place. He had found his one true treasure.

Y/N. And he was going to protect her, at all costs.

---

The path to the annex had never seemed so long to Cassius. Every step felt like it was bringing him closer to his judgment, to that moment he had feared since leaving Y/N to complete his revenge. His victory was bitter, and the fear of facing the consequences of his choices weighed heavily on his heart. He didn’t know what he would say or how she would react. All he knew was that he could no longer stay away from her.

When he crossed the threshold of the annex, silence greeted him. The house seemed frozen in time, as if his absence had halted the world. He climbed the stairs leading to Y/N’s room, his trembling hand resting on the railing. He hesitated in front of the door, taking a deep breath before entering. He found her there, sitting on the bed, her face turned toward the open window, as if she could feel the wind to compensate for her lack of sight.

Y/N didn’t need to see him to know he was there. As soon as she had heard the sound of his footsteps in the house, her heart had tightened. A quiet rage filled her, mixed with a sadness she didn’t know how to express. When he finally entered the room, she didn’t give him the chance to speak. She grabbed an object from her table—a metal box—and threw it with all her might in his direction. The impact was brutal, hitting him squarely in the head. Cassius staggered, but didn’t retreat.

Silence fell again in the room, heavy and suffocating. Cassius, his lips pressed together, raised a hand to his temple where a thin line of blood began to trickle. He didn’t move, standing there, just a few steps away from the woman he had betrayed.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice trembling but calm. It wasn’t the cry of an angry woman, but the painful question of someone who had been hurt to the core.

"Y/N..." he whispered, but she raised a hand to stop him.

"Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear your excuses or explanations. I don’t want you near me, nor do I want you to try to touch me." Her voice was cold, but Cassius could hear the crack in every word, the mixture of emotions she was holding in with a force he could barely comprehend.

He took a step forward, but she instinctively pulled away, moving further from him. The tears she had tried to hold back finally welled up at the corners of her eyes. She turned her head toward him, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the bed sheets.

"Do you know what I thought of you?" she said, her voice almost broken but strangely composed. "I thought you would be different. That you would be the person I’ve waited for my whole life. The one who would come into my cold, empty world and show me I was wrong. That the world wasn’t just filled with cruelty and lies. But all you’ve done is confirm what I already knew. I was wrong to trust you."

Cassius felt his heart shatter at her words. She was there, vulnerable, yet so strong in her pain. He would have preferred for her to hit him, to scream, to unleash her anger on him. But this calm resignation, these words full of disappointment, were a thousand times worse.

"Y/N, I..." He stopped, searching for the right words. But there were none. Nothing could erase what he had done, nothing could repair this betrayal.

She turned away, her shoulders shaking slightly as she tried to hold back her sobs. "I’ve never expected anything from anyone. Since I was a child, I learned that people are only there to take. And you, you were no different. You came here, and you took what you liked. You took my trust, you took my safety, and now, what do you want? For me to forgive you? For me to let you break me again?"

He took a step closer, despite her silent command, kneeling in front of her. "I’m sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice full of sincerity. "I’m sorry for everything. For using you, for leaving you in the dark. But believe me, I never wanted to hurt you. What I did… it was for my family, to right a wrong. But I didn’t know it would cost me you. That it would cost me your heart."

She didn’t respond, but her hands tightened even more around the sheets.

"I can’t change what I’ve done," he continued. "But I can choose what I do now. And all I want is to be by your side. No matter what it costs, no matter how long it takes. I love you, Y/N. And I won’t leave anymore."

A heavy silence followed his words. Y/N didn’t move, her tears continuing to fall silently. Cassius stayed there, kneeling, waiting for her to speak, for her to hit him, for her to reject him. But nothing came.

"You can stay," she murmured finally, her voice barely audible. "But don’t think I’m going to forgive you so easily."

Cassius nodded, grateful for that small chance. He knew that regaining her trust would take time, perhaps an eternity. But he was willing to do whatever it took for her. To fix what he had broken.

And in that fragile moment, a small spark of hope was born, lighting up a future they still had to build, step by step.

---

After their emotional confrontation, Cassius decided it was time to offer Y/N an environment more suited to her needs. He brought her back to the main estate, a vast manor surrounded by lush gardens, where she could benefit from all the comfort, care, and attention she deserved.

Aware that the current staff might be connected to past allegiances and eager to create a fresh start for the two of them, Cassius made the radical decision to dismiss all the employees of the estate. He then recruited a new team, carefully chosen for their discretion and dedication, to ensure impeccable service for Y/N.

The days that followed were marked by Cassius's constant efforts to seek forgiveness. Despite his new responsibilities as the master of the estate and manager of the family’s assets, he dedicated every free moment to Y/N. He accompanied her on walks through the gardens, describing in detail the colors of the flowers and the layout of the paths to make up for her blindness. He read books aloud to her, choosing stories that could move or make her smile. In the evenings, they shared intimate meals, where he made sure every dish was prepared according to her tastes.

Gradually, a new closeness developed between them. Y/N, initially reluctant, began to open up to him. Their conversations grew deeper, covering a range of topics from childhood memories to unspoken dreams. Affectionate gestures naturally emerged: a hand placed on hers during a reading, a shared laugh after a funny anecdote, a smile exchanged without the need for words.

One afternoon, while they sat on the terrace, enjoying the gentle breeze, Y/N turned her face toward Cassius. Her expression was serious, marked by a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Cassius," she began softly, "there's something I need to know. What happened to my family?"

The silence that followed her question was heavy with meaning. Cassius felt his heart tighten, aware that the truth could break the fragile trust they had rebuilt. But he also knew that lying or omitting the truth were no longer options.

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "Y/N, your family... was stripped of their titles and their assets. They had to leave the region and now live under modest conditions."

Y/N remained silent for a moment, processing the information. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, but tinged with sadness. "And it was you who orchestrated this, wasn’t it?"

Cassius lowered his head, ashamed. "Yes. It was my revenge for what they did to my family. But I never expected to meet you, nor to... fall in love with you."

She slowly nodded, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "I understand. But that doesn’t make it any less painful."

He moved closer to her, gently taking her hand in his. "I’m willing to do anything to make up for my mistakes, Y/N. Tell me what I can do."

She squeezed his hand in return, a simple gesture but one full of meaning. "For now, let’s stay together. We’ll see what the future holds."

And so, despite the shadows of the past, they chose to walk forward together toward an uncertain future, but one full of hope.

---

The manor was silent, barely disturbed by the soft murmur of the wind against the windows. In their bedroom, the morning light filtered through the slightly open curtains, creating soft and warm shadows on the bed where Cassius and Y/N rested after a peaceful night. Their hands were intertwined, their connection stronger than ever.

It had been months since they married. A life together in this grand estate that had been the stage for so many changes, struggles, and, ultimately, an unexpected love. Y/N, once a quiet and solitary young woman, had found her place not only as a wife but also as a countess, the mistress of the house, a position she had never sought but held with dignity and intelligence.

Cassius was amazed every day at the way she managed the estate’s affairs, the way she helped him make strategic decisions. She had a sharpness that still surprised him. The woman he had loved had become a valuable ally, a strong partner full of wisdom. She never ceased to amaze him.

"Countess," he would say sometimes with a mischievous smile, "I suppose I should start addressing you like a servant now, shouldn’t I?" He loved seeing her face turn red, the charm of her embarrassment and humility still pure, even after everything they had been through together.

She would often respond with a half-smile, a bit shy but amused by his teasing. "You know very well I don’t care for the title. But I suppose I’ve earned being treated like a queen, haven’t I?"

"Ah, you’re making me work for it now," he teased with a smile, but always with a quiet admiration in his eyes. "But it suits you. The most beautiful countess in all the empire."

She would then give him a playful look before gently pushing him away, not without a small laugh. "I forbid you from making me blush any more."

One morning, however, as they found themselves alone in the bedroom, a different kind of silence settled in. Y/N, who was lying next to him, gently caressed his face as she often did. Her fingers glided over every contour, every line, as if trying to imprint every detail in her memory. She seemed lost in thought. Cassius watched her, a little lost in the stillness of the moment. Then, a question arose in his mind, a thought that had been gnawing at him for too long.

He bit his lip after asking the question, as if the idea that she might judge him differently terrified him. He had never thought of himself as an attractive man, despite his imposing size and rugged nature. He wasn’t someone people would admire for his looks, let alone someone a woman might desire for his outer beauty. He was simply... him.

"Y/N," he said, his voice a little lower, "if you could see me… would you still love me?"

He waited for her answer, his heart beating faster, but Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She stopped her caresses, taking a pause, and her gaze drifted into the distance for a moment. Then, slowly, she moved her arms around him, gently pulling him closer. She buried her face in his hair and held him tightly. Her arms wrapped around him with tenderness, like a silent promise.

"Don’t you think it’s strange, Cassius?" she whispered, her voice soft and comforting. "To only see the outside of people… when everything happens inside?"

Her words struck him like a lightning bolt, hitting his soul full force. A long silence settled, the air thick with deep emotion. Cassius closed his eyes, his heart heavy, as silent tears began to fall. It was the first time he felt such an emotional weight. He had never allowed himself to believe he deserved the love of a woman, let alone someone as pure and precious as Y/N. But there, in her arms, everything made sense. She didn’t love him for what he looked like on the outside, but for who he was on the inside. She saw beyond appearances, beyond the mistakes of the past. She saw his heart. And that was enough.

"I…" He couldn’t find the words. He simply let himself be carried away by Y/N’s embrace, drowning in the warmth of her arms, finally feeling at peace.

Y/N smiled as she heard him cry, but it was a gentle, protective smile. She leaned slightly and whispered in his ear, "You are my everything, Cassius. And that will never change, no matter what you see in the mirror."

Then, after a moment of silence, she added, teasing as if to lighten the atmosphere, "By the way, you look like a big baby in my arms, you know Cassi ?"

Cassius burst into laughter, breaking the weight of his emotions, and pulled away slightly from Y/N’s embrace to look at her. His eyes were still brimming with tears, but his smile was sincere and full of gratitude.

"I’m your big Cassi baby, huh?" he said with a soft laugh. "Well, I’d rather be that than your big problem."

"You’re that too, but I love you anyway," she replied with a laugh, teasing him while pulling him back into her arms.

In that suspended moment, where love and humor intertwined, Cassius knew deep down that everything he had been through, everything he had sacrificed, had been worth it. Because, in the end, the love he had searched for so desperately, the one he never believed was possible, was there, so close, in her arms, in Y/N’s smile.

And he knew, with a new certainty, that he no longer needed to look in a mirror to see who he was. Y/N saw him. And that was enough.

The End

..................................................................................

Bonus :

Years had passed, and the manor now echoed with a quiet happiness. Y/N and Cassius had built a peaceful life together, despite the weight of the past and the persistent whispers that ran through the empire. Now a respected countess and a beloved wife, Y/N had found her place, but a new trial had befallen her.

She was pregnant.

The news had been received with joy by her husband, but for Y/N, it carried an invisible weight on her shoulders. People talked. Superstitions spread through the streets, the salons, even the corridors of the estate. They whispered that she could only give birth to a child like her—one destined for darkness from their very first breath.

Y/N said nothing, but Cassius could see the turmoil in her delicate features, the exhaustion that had nothing to do with the pregnancy itself. Every caress on her belly was laced with a silent fear, a doubt that never truly left her.

— “Y/N… no matter what others say, our child will be loved, protected. They will never have to endure what you have.”

She didn’t answer, merely clutching the fabric of his tunic as if afraid to say something she would regret.

The hours were long, unbearable. Cassius had never felt so powerless. Y/N suffered, gasped, struggled. He stayed by her side, gripping her hand with a force that revealed his own anxiety. The midwives worked tirelessly around her, and finally, after hours of effort, a first cry rang out.

Their child was born.

A flood of emotions overwhelmed Cassius as he looked at the fragile little being in Y/N’s arms. His heart swelled with a love he had never thought possible. He pressed a kiss to his wife’s sweat-dampened forehead, whispering words of comfort.

But Y/N remained silent. Her face was pale, frozen in a troubling expression. Cassius first thought it was exhaustion, the toll of labor. But something was wrong.

At last, her voice broke the silence.

— “Cassius…”

He gently lifted his head, his fingers running tenderly through her damp hair.

— “Yes, my love?”

Y/N trembled slightly. Her hand tightened around the fabric of the blanket, and when she spoke again, her voice was hesitant, laced with deep fear.

— “Tell me… what does he look like?”

Cassius smiled softly, thinking he understood. He lowered his gaze to their child, ready to describe the features of the little life they had created.

— “He’s beautiful. He has your lips… and I think he has your nose too.”

But Y/N shook her head, interrupting his quiet admiration. Her hand clenched the sheets a little tighter.

— “No… I want to know…” She took a trembling breath. “Is he… normal?”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Cassius felt a shiver run down his spine. For a moment, he struggled to understand what she meant. Then, everything became clear.

She wasn’t asking if he was handsome. Nor if he had her features.

She wanted to know if he was blind.

Suddenly, a quiet anger stirred within Cassius. Not at her, but at the world that had left such deep scars on his wife—scars that made her believe that being different meant being a mistake.

With infinite gentleness, he placed the baby in Y/N’s arms. She trembled slightly, as if afraid to hear his answer. He then knelt beside her, cupping her face in his hands, his heart pounding.

— “Listen to me, Y/N.” His voice was soft but firm, a blend of tenderness and conviction. “Our child was born with your blood, with your legacy. Whether they can see or not, they are perfect. They are ours. They are loved.”

Y/N’s lips trembled. She still didn’t dare to touch her baby’s face, as if fearing she would discover a fate already sealed.

Cassius gently took her hand and guided it to the round little cheek of their child.

— “Do you feel that? Their breath, their warmth. It’s not what others see that matters—it’s what we feel.”

Slowly, Y/N nodded, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

— “They will be loved…” she finally murmured, as if making a promise to herself.

Cassius pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then to their child’s.

— “More than anyone in this world.”

And in that room, illuminated by the flickering glow of candlelight, a new chapter began for them. A chapter where love triumphed over all beliefs. A chapter where Y/N, after years of doubting herself, finally learned that she had never been a burden or a mistake.

She was a miracle. And so was their child.

---

The days that followed were filled with a gentleness that Y/N had never known. Cassius watched over her and their child with almost exaggerated attentiveness. He worried about everything—whether she was eating enough, whether she was sleeping well, whether the baby was comfortable.

— "I’m fine, Cassius," she sighed one morning as he insisted on placing an extra pillow behind her head.

— "You say that, but you don’t realize how much exhaustion you’re accumulating."

Y/N smiled and reached out, a familiar gesture between them. Her fingers glided gently over his jawline, his nose, his lips.

— "You’re making that face where your brows are furrowed, aren’t you?"

Cassius sighed before pressing a kiss to her palm.

— "I’m just worried. You just gave birth, and…"

— "And you’ve become worse than an old nursemaid," she teased softly.

He pretended to be offended, but his smile betrayed him.

The whispers had not stopped. The rumor spread that the Countess’s child had been born blind. Nobles gossiped—some saw it as a curse, others offered false sympathy.

But Cassius let no one approach Y/N or their son with ill intentions.

One morning, as Y/N cradled their child, Cassius approached them.

— "He looks more and more like you," he said softly.

— "I wouldn’t know," she replied with a hint of amusement.

— "Then let me be your eyes."

Gently, he took her hand and placed it on the baby’s head.

— "His hair is fine, as dark as the night." He then guided her fingers over the baby’s soft, round cheek. "His skin is warm, delicate. And his lips…" He brushed them lightly with his fingers. "They’re like yours—full and gentle."

Y/N remained silent, savoring his words, her heart beating in time with the peaceful breathing of their child.

Then, as if by miracle, something unexpected happened.

The baby opened his eyes.

Cassius, who had never doubted his love for their child, froze for a moment. He had feared that Y/N would suffer if their child was like her, that she would feel an unjust sorrow.

But in that instant, all of it disappeared.

— "Y/N…" he murmured, his voice trembling.

She sensed his unease immediately.

— "What is it?" she asked.

— "His eyes." He swallowed hard. "They’re open."

Y/N’s own eyes widened slightly, though they saw nothing.

— "He… He can see?"

Cassius didn’t answer right away. He gazed at their son, at the bright, wide eyes staring back at them. The baby blinked a few times, curious, innocent. Then, he reached out his tiny fingers toward Y/N, seeking his mother’s touch.

A tear slipped down Cassius’s cheek.

— "Yes, Y/N… He can see."

A silence settled between them. Then, Y/N slowly nodded, her lips trembling slightly.

— "That’s good," she whispered.

Cassius had expected a stronger reaction—perhaps tears, a sob. But Y/N remained calm, her smile soft and serene.

— "You’re not… sad?" he dared to ask.

She shook her head.

— "No. Because it was never about normality. Just fear. Fear that he would go through what I have. But he never will. Because he has you. Because he has me."

Cassius took a deep breath, pulling his wife and son into his embrace.

— "He will always have us," he promised.

The years passed, and Cassius and Y/N’s son grew up surrounded by love. He was neither cursed nor a tragic legend, as the whispers of the past had claimed. He was simply a beloved child, a strong heir, carrying within his blood the story of a woman who had overcome darkness and a man who had learned that vengeance did not always bring peace—but love, it could.

Cassius never forgot the promise he had made to himself: Y/N would be happy.

And every day, he made sure of it.

---

The afternoon stretched lazily in Cassius’s study, bathed in golden light filtering through the large windows. Seated behind his desk, he held their six-month-old daughter, Evangeline, in his arms. She babbled softly, her tiny hands grasping at the buttons of his shirt.

Across the room, Y/N sat comfortably on a couch, gently caressing the face of their eldest son, Ambrose, as she listened to his enthusiastic murmurs about his latest "project." She had always had this tender habit—tracing the faces of those she loved to sense their expressions and guess their thoughts.

Cassius, who had been watching them for a while, finally sighed and said, half amused, half perplexed:

— "My dear… I think our son is strange."

Y/N raised an eyebrow in her husband’s direction before turning her head toward Ambrose.

— "Strange?"

Cassius nodded slowly while adjusting Evangeline against him.

— "He spends his time doing odd things. Just look at him. Or rather, listen to him."

Y/N listened carefully. Ambrose, only five years old, was kneeling on the rug, entirely focused on some mysterious activity. In front of him, feathers, books, and even a few gold coins were meticulously arranged in neat rows. He was whispering numbers as he counted, then stopped to adjust everything with an almost eerie precision.

Y/N reached out and gently ran her fingers over the top of his head.

— "Ambrose, what are you doing, my love?"

The child lifted his head seriously.

— "I’m putting everything in order, Mama. It’s important."

Cassius softly patted their sleeping daughter’s back before adding:

— "See? Yesterday, I caught him sorting my imperial seals by shades of red. And this morning, he refused to sit at the table because the chairs weren’t perfectly aligned."

Amused, Y/N stroked her son’s cheek.

— "He just likes things to be well organized."

— "No, no. It’s an obsession. The other day, I walked into his room and found him arranging pebbles… by size."

Ambrose frowned, crossing his small arms over his chest.

— "That’s logical. Big pebbles go with big ones, small ones with small ones. Why would you mix them?"

Y/N stifled a laugh while Cassius shook his head in exasperation.

— "You see? This isn’t normal. He has the mind of an old accountant before he’s even lost his first tooth."

Y/N placed a reassuring hand over her husband’s.

— "Maybe this is just his way of understanding the world. He inherited your attention to detail—you should be proud."

Cassius watched his son, who, after a brief hesitation, returned to aligning his objects with unwavering seriousness.

— "If he ever starts organizing my soldiers by height, that’s when I’ll sound the alarm."

Y/N burst into laughter, and after a moment, Ambrose smiled too.

Cassius let out one last sigh, kissed Evangeline’s head tenderly, then reached out to ruffle his son’s hair.

— "Alright, little genius. Keep aligning the world as you see fit… But I warn you, I refuse to have my county turned into a geometric arrangement someday."

Ambrose beamed proudly, and Y/N, her heart full of love for her family, intertwined her fingers with her husband’s.

Everything was exactly where it belonged.

Tags list : @elizalabs3 @slvt4her

[heliosunny]

Bidding for trouble

Yandere!Sugilite x Assistant!Reader

Working under Sugilite was nothing short of an experience. It wasn’t the workload that drained you, no, you had handled more demanding jobs before transferring to his department. It was the way he worked. His approach was... unconventional at best, completely insane at worst.

And today?

Today might just take the cake.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

With a deep sigh, you set the paperwork down on his desk, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow soothe the headache forming.

Across from you, Sugilite leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee with the usual, infuriating calmness. He had allowed you to be more casual with him—something few employees in the Strategic Investment Department could claim. But at this moment, you weren’t sure if that was a privilege or a curse.

“Unfortunately, I’m not” he said smoothly, placing his cup down with a soft clink.

Just moments ago, he had casually explained his new plan to deal with a planet in deep financial debt to the IPC. A plan that, for some ungodly reason, involved you.

“I have to be auctioned? Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look, half-expecting him to say this was all some elaborate joke. “Boss… don’t tell me you’re already tired of me. Even so, don’t sell me like that.”

That earned a full, unrestrained laugh from him. A rare sight.

Sugilite was usually composed, his amusement measured, but you?

You always managed to catch him off guard. It was part of the reason he kept you around, despite the constant back-and-forth.

After all, work was far less dull with you in it.

“Who said I’m going to do that?” he said between chuckles. “You’re my precious employee. Just follow my orders.”

“But—”

“No but.” He waved a hand dismissively, already moving the conversation along. “Besides, what makes you think I’d sell you off to someone else?”

You hesitated. “Well… a few colleagues of mine said I’ll soon move under Opal—”

Sugilite nearly choked on his coffee.

“Okay, stop right there” he cut in sharply, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You blinked.

“You can go home now.”

“But—”

“If you say one more word, I’ll cut your salary.”

That was enough to send you bolting for the door, offering a quick bow before making your escape. As soon as you were gone, Sugilite let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Opal? Seriously? The nerve of those gossiping employees.

He wasn’t about to let that happen.

The Strategic Investment Department wasn’t known for taking the most ethical approach to problem-solving. But when it came to Sugilite, the term ethical might as well be optional.

Which explained why, after days of preparation, you now found yourself standing in the center of a lavishly decorated auction hall, as one of the items up for sale.

Sugilite’s plan was simple: infiltrate the underground elite of this debt-ridden planet by letting you play the role of an “exclusive product.” You would be the bait, drawing out the highest bidders—corrupt politicians, shady financiers, and the type of people the IPC wanted under control. Meanwhile, he would work from the outside, pulling the necessary strings to ensure the debt was paid back in full—in ways the bidders wouldn’t like.

And at first, it all went smoothly.

Sugilite played his role perfectly, making business deals, exposing financial fraud, and manipulating the planet’s economy in real time. He always had a sharp tongue and sharper instincts, and as you watched from your designated position in the auction lineup, you knew this planet’s leaders were already falling into his hands.

The moment his name was announced in the VIP section, the entire hall fell silent.

Then came whispers.

Nervous murmurs.

Everyone knew the IPC didn’t just send high-ranking officials to small, struggling planets without reason.

Sugilite took advantage of that fear, leaning back in his seat as if he owned the place already.

It was going well.

Until it wasn’t.

Sugilite expected you to be exactly where he left you.

But when the auction’s proceedings finally wrapped up and the planet’s debts were effectively handed over to IPC control, he turned to retrieve you—

And you were gone.

His eyes darkened, the casual amusement from earlier draining from his expression as he turned to one of his men.

“Find them. Now.”

The operative hesitated for only a second before scrambling to follow orders.

Sugilite tapped his fingers against his chair’s armrest, gaze sharp as he considered the possibilities.

Had someone figured out who you really were?

Had they seen through the plan?

Or—

His jaw tightened. Or had someone decided they wanted to keep you for themselves?

That thought did not sit well with him at all.

One way or another, he would track you down. And when he did, whoever dared to take what was his would regret it.

Your Perspective

You should have expected this. From the moment Sugilite suggested this insane plan, you knew things would go sideways at some point. You just thought you’d at least get a warning before that happened.

But, here you were—bound at the wrists, being dragged through dimly lit corridors by a man whose breath smelled like stale liquor.

“Didn’t think I’d be getting such a prize tonight” the bidder sneered, his grip tightening as he shoved you forward. “You were supposed to be mine from the start, but then that damn IPC agent had to get in the way.”

This guy had tried to bid on you earlier in the night, but Sugilite’s very presence had sent him and others into a panic, forcing him to back off. He must have gotten desperate.

You glared at him. “You really think you’re going to get away with this?”

The man scoffed. “You think the IPC cares about a single—”

A low beeping sound cut him off.

He frowned, reaching into his coat to pull out his comm device. The moment he glanced at the screen, his face paled.

CRASH. The wall exploded inward.

Dust and debris filled the air as a figure emerged from the wreckage, stepping through as if he had all the time in the world.

Sugilite’s Perspective

It took less than ten minutes for his men to track your last known location. And only five more for him to personally break through the underground facility’s defenses.

The moment Sugilite spotted you—alive, unharmed, but bound like a prize, his usual easygoing demeanor vanished.

“Ah… Boss!!” you coughed, waving at him weakly through the dust. “You’re early.”

He ignored you.

His gaze locked onto the pathetic excuse of a man still holding onto you, now trembling like a leaf.

“I—It’s a misunderstanding,” the man stammered. “I—”

Sugilite’s smile was slow, but there was nothing kind about it. “You know,” he said, taking a deliberate step forward, “I really hate when people try to take what’s mine.”

The man barely had time to scream before Sugilite grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

You winced.

Someone was definitely dying tonight.

The man barely had time to sputter out another excuse before Sugilite lifted him higher, letting his weight dangle uselessly.

“You really thought this was a good idea?” Sugilite’s fingers pressed down with a slow, deliberate force, just enough to watch the bastard’s face turn shades of red.

“P-Please—!” the man choked out, clawing at Sugilite’s wrist.

Sugilite tilted his head, watching with mild amusement before sighing. He was already bored.

“Not even a minute, and you’re already begging?” His grip tightened. “Disappointing.”

“Boss” your voice cut in. “Maybe don’t kill him immediately? I’d rather not be classified as collateral damage.”

Sugilite flicked a glance at you, taking in your disheveled state, the dust clinging to your clothes, the slight tension in your shoulders. You were fine, but that didn’t change the fact that someone had dared to lay hands on you.

His grip tightened further.

You groaned. “C’mon, at least let me get out of the blast radius before you commit murder.”

Sugilite chuckled.

“Fair enough.”

And with that, he slammed the man into the ground hard enough to crack the concrete. The body twitched but didn’t move again.

Sugilite rolled his shoulders, satisfied, before turning his full attention to you. “Now, onto more important things.” His eyes scanned you from head to toe, sharp as ever. “Did he hurt you?”

You exhaled. “Not really. Just manhandled a bit.”

He nodded, then reached out, far too gently for a man who had just nearly crushed someone’s windpipe, to untie the bindings on your wrists himself. His fingers grazed your skin briefly, lingering for a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

“You really had me running around, you know” he said, stuffing his hands back into his coat pockets.

You huffed. “It’s not like I planned to get kidnapped.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unreadable. “Maybe I should’ve raised you higher at auction. Then no one would’ve dared to touch you.”

You blinked. “That is not the takeaway here.”

Sugilite only smiled, his amusement evident as he gestured toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go before the rest of the idiots show up.”

Later – Back at IPC Headquarters

You were so close to clocking out for the day.

But of course, Sugilite had other plans.

“You’re not going home yet” he announced as soon as you reached your desk.

You stared at him, tired beyond belief. “Why?”

“You still have paperwork to fill out.” He smirked. “You were technically ‘purchased’ tonight. We have to make sure you’re properly ‘returned.’”

You dropped your head onto your desk with a loud thud. Sugilite laughed.

At least one of you was having fun.

[kaptainandy]

Okay okay okay hold up! You are definitely on to something here! I think Jack being a teen when he moved in is actually very plausible especially because of a detail about the Kelly family that has been in the back of my mind that I didn't know what to make of until now.

I should preface I haven't gotten around to watching/listening TASP so they could've touched on what I'm about to bring up. ANYWAY, why do Bonnie, Jack, and Charlie all having the surname Kelly? This wouldn't have been a question if it hadn't been for the introduction of Shelley Kelly.

What I'm getting at is, before Shelley, it could be assumed Kelly was Bonnie's maiden name. But since she shares the last name with Shelley, we can assume she took on his name for whatever reason (more speculation on that later). And if that's the case, Jack would theoretically still have Bonnie's maiden name as his surname, not Kelly.

So, this brings me to the two possibilities:

a) Bonnie's maiden name actually is Kelly and it was coincidence that Shelley had the same last name, thus explaining Jack's surname being the same as well. Possible, because it's not an unpopular last name, plus it was used as a way to clue the viewers in during the Ireland episode that this Shelley Kelly guy is almost definitely related to Charlie. However, if them sharing a last name was coincidence, I feel like one of the character's would've said something like, "damn Charlie what are the odds?" kinda comment. If it was meant to be played for humor it seems odd RCG would gloss over that since it wouldn't click for most people if not explicitly stated.

or

b) Bonnie changed her last name to Shelley's, as is tradition in both the US and UK. Now this could mean that they were either married, or Bonnie changed her name in an attempt at bonding Charlie to his dad, or some other reason. Reason aside, it would make a lot more sense that Jack would have his last name changed too if he was a teenager as opposed to a grown man.

Assuming Jack was a teenager and Bonnie was taking him in - especially in the event of escaping an abusive household - she likely legally adopted him/took legal guardianship of him. Especially in the US, Bonnie being his legal guardian makes getting healthcare, enrolling in school, etc. way easier for her to accomplish for Jack. Aside from the legal aspect, she likely would also want to ingratiate her brother into their household and sharing a name would definitely make him feel like he belonged. And in the event Bonnie and Jack's parent(s)/guardian(s) were abusive, it makes sense they would want to distance themselves any way they could.

As for why Bonnie would change her surname in the first place, my guess is she was desperate to have Shelley in Charlie's life and despite his obvious disinterest, she deluded herself enough to thinking changing her name would convince him to stay. This is simply my theory and could be speculated about all day so I'm curious what y'all think.

As to why Bonnie kept the surname Kelly despite Shelley being a deadbeat? I imagine the main reason for this is she did it for Charlie. Bonnie was very encouraging of Shelley and Charlie having a relationship via letters and whether or not she told Charlie (or assumed he knew) Shelley was his father, sharing a surname is likely another attempt at connecting them.

Additionally, maybe sharing a surname would make pushing for child support - especially in an international case, and doubly so if the couple was never actually married - and other aid from the father an easier process. This point is just very loose conjecture on my part as I am a dumb dumb and only have a less than flimsy grasp on US law at best, let alone international law. But I digress.

I say all this to strengthen the case that Kelly is not the original shared surname of Bonnie and Jack and that Jack's name was changed when he legally became the dependant of Bonnie. And that, again, would really only make sense if he was a teenager at the time.

Also another point: if we assume the characters are close in age to the actors that play them, Lynne Marie Stewart was born in 1946. If Bonnie's birth year is around the same time that makes her ~30 years older than Jack. If that's the case, then perhaps Jack wasn't leaving an abusive household, but rather was left orphaned after their last surviving parent/guardian passed.

In conclusion, thanks to OP I will be thinking about the Kelly Family Situation nonstop for the foreseeable future and what this means for the characters. Thank you OP for providing me a link to attach this random detail to a theory that has poured fuel on my hyperfixation.

I hope I'm not forgetting some detail that explains this all away because I do not wanna look like boo boo the fucking fool who just typed all this out lmao

Somehow I never really realized that Andrew Friedman and Charlie Day only have a 5 year age difference between them (I assumed it was closer to 10 years), and I realized I've kinda always assumed Uncle Jack was a grown adult when he moved in with the Kellys, when Charlie was a kid (perhaps incorrectly?)

Is Uncle Jack supposed to be canonically significantly older than Andrew Friedman is? Or is he actually cast to his age and supposed to be in his early thirties in Season 1? (I don't think there's an actual answer here, they don't age him in the script or discuss it in the TASP episode.)

But I'm wondering: do you guys automatically assume Uncle Jack is significantly older than Charlie? Or am I alone in just, like, ignoring the actor's actual age and defaulting him to, more or less, looking as he did in Season 1 when Charlie was a kid?

We don't really know the circumstances of Jack originally moving in with Bonnie and Charlie, but now realising their age difference, Jack actually being fairly young when he moved in with them almost, upsettingly, makes more sense than him being a grown adult at the time:

Bonnie taking in her much younger, teen brother (in some absence of her parents being able to care for him, or even paying her to take care of him instead) and sticking him in her son's room would logically make way more sense than if he were a grown man at the time. In many ways, she would see these acts as good deeds: becoming a caretaker to her brother and giving her son a pseudo-brother (who seemed to be happy to love and protect him), which would almost explain why she cannot accept (or even fathom) that this instead resulted in inflicting extreme trauma on her son.

Similarly, the closer age difference between Jack and Charlie would account more for Bonnie being able to turn a blind eye/take Uncle Jack's side when it comes to the "wrestling" comments. If Jack was a grown adult, it's hard not to not raise an eyebrow at, but you would almost expect that a teenage boy would be rowdy with his nephew, and that they would playfight, if not actual fight, quite often while sharing a small space. Conceivably, Bonnie really wouldn't have stopped to question the relationship between Jack and Charlie at the time if he was her displaced teen brother, as opposed to her strange adult brother.

[yesimwriting]

omg irl (personally) i would get so fed up with armand like... nothing's ever straightforward with you... there he goesss with his ulterior motives.

I love how you describe Louis' worry in the latest chapter, because as anon requested, it is the crashout of all crashouts BUT its so sublty written and kept between the lines (big kudos to you) because Louis is not burning and killing 20% of the vampiric population like he did in paris BUT there are hints/implication present that he absolutely would do something much worse to protect and/or avenge bestie reader.

And it really shows during the part after the phonecall when he's thinking to himself. Him repeating Josh's name like a mantra??? Girl his last victim was in the year 2000 but im sure he's willing make sure josh will never use both of his wrists to operate a car ever again lmao. Also, being an english speaking foreigner, i'm usually able to keep my accent at bay but i know damn well that Nola accent was HEARD through that damn phone. This reminds me of that older brother vibe ask of yours you wrote before. We all know he booked a flight arriving after sunset so he can personally drive and pick her up from the airport. Also stand as close as possible by the arrivals so she doesn't need to carry her luggage with a broken wrist.

His worry over the medication that makes her drowsy??? Omg Louis loves her so much its sickening what the hell. I need to see Daniel catching bestie in 4k, casually snoozing peacefully with Louis bc she feels so safe and i need daniel to snap a picture to blackmail louis with it later. (the 70 year old senior is louis younger brother confirmed by jacob anderson himself lmao)

The one hundred thousand over set price for her painting reference???? So Louis doesn't even know, I wonder where armand is keeping the painting. I also wonder what his intentions are with reader. Like... what are his feelings, is his interest romantic, platonic, sexual or something completely different.

Now bestie reader is so gen z and i know for a fact the people in this generation will see bullshit from miles away. (we've been trained by social media) I love the idea of armand being the manipulative gremlin that he is and reader just seeing straight through it. She's a baddie we know damn well she will CLOCK HIM the second he tries to shift the playing field. And I know he'll like it too. Just look at him and Daniel. (rip non book readers, devils minion will give you whiplash)

SIDE NOTE: i love the moment in the show when armand is retelling his story of the trial in paris and Daniel questioning how tf a five hundred year old ancient did not have the ability to stop his own coven. Daniel's smug face and the deadpan "Or what?". Daniel GO GET HIS ASS.

Daniel and reader would get along so well.

side note nr 2: i apologize for the bomb i just dropped in your inbox.

omg what a fun ask <33

i love armand, but in real life i'd be so over the theatrics of it all 😭 like yes you're playing chess and we're all playing checkers we get it!! no one will think you're less mysterious if you just answer the question omg

thank you for mentioning the louis thing! i'm glad you liked how i set it up bc i wanted his worry/frustration to be apparent but i still wanted it to feel in character. ik he's not opposed to greater crash outs (like the paris thing for my girl claudia ✊) but i also think that even when he's upset he understands time and place to an extent. like claudia's very intentional killers deserve worse than a guy who has done something relatively minor to reader on accident. however, it's still important that he very much would do the same if not worse for bestie reader if something actually bad happened to her, so i'm glad you read it that way!!

the josh thing pls 😭 i almost didn't have bestie reader give the guy a name bc she knew how he'd react. also i think that while louis isn't chill with murder, knowing that it'd be so easy to hurt someone who he thinks deserves it isn't an easily dismissible thought. i don't think he's jumping to hurt/kill everyone that's wronged bestie reader, but i do think it's an intrusive thought. the wrist thing 😭 i can see louis reacting like that if he was right there, but i feel like louis would only plan out violence if someone seriously/intentionally hurt reader.

this is going to sound off topic, but bare with me for a second. i haven't delved into this yet, but friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and while i'm committed to louis and bestie reader always being completely non-toxic, that doesn't mean their dynamic is simple. a major thing that complicates their relationship is the way that they worry over the way the other perceives them.

bestie is worried that louis perceives her as fragile and therefore fleeting and unworthy of long term attention. she's scared of being seen as a hindrance and as a burden. louis is worried that one day everything will click for bestie reader and she'll realize that he's a monster. so he's doing all he can to not demonstrate violence in front of her.

anyways, all this to say that he's not going around attacking people partially bc of his values but also bc he doesn't want her to associate violence with him.

also, total side note but this dynamic is actually what leads to reader and armand bonding. louis loves her so much and the thought of losing her is so distressing that sometimes he censors himself a little too much or treats reader like she's extremely fragile. armand doesn't. yes, this is because it's easier to risk losing someone that isn't the your emotional support human, but also bc he genuinely thinks she's capable of handling it. he'll tell her every (non-incriminating) vampire story ever in full, gory detail and reader is fascinated.

the accent comment is killing me 😭 ik that nola accent was HEAVY over the phone. reader felt those words in her soul.

and yes he’s AT that airport and he’s happy about it too lol.

also yes louis loves her sm 😭. ofc he was worried about her all alone on drowsy medication. that's the light of his life! what's he supposed to do if something happens to her? go back to only talking to his companion and occasionally a journalist accidentally moonlighting as a divorce lawyer??

also omg daniel and reader interactions are a need!! daniel being described as louis's younger brother is so important to me here omg. i love daniel and louis's relationship sm, and i just know daniel is ready for someone else with common sense to be sitting in. daniel looks at bestie reader like that one meme that's like 'you're the only bitch in the house i ever respected'.

the picture concept is so cute 😭 might have to write that into a scene bc i can see daniel seeing louis and reader asleep and at first being like ? and then taking the picture to bring it up later.

YES THE PAINTING REFERENCE i'm so glad you noticed!! i was so excited for it lol. i mentioned this in another post briefly, but i think armand's lowkey disgusted with himself for purchasing the painting bc it's a physical representation of the fact that he finds reader interesting. even before louis, before he knew her, he found something about her interesting, and bc he thinks reader has dismissed him, he wants to pretend that he's never thought about her at all.

i don't want to spoil where the painting is (it's not a major spoiler lol) but armand still has it and it is somewhere secret.

omg armand's intentions with bestie reader 😭!! i'm going to give you a short answer and then a long answer bc his feelings for her evolve slowly.

short answer: he has a really intense hate-crush on her. she's so beloved and perfect and basically the sun personified. he wants to consume her soul, he wants her to not exist, he wants her live forever, he wants her, he wants her to be just as obsessed with him so that he can calm down. she's an affliction. she's a blessing. he's going through it.

long answer: at first, he resents her bc she's taking up all of louis's attention and love. then, he starts to wonder what is so perfect and wonderful about her that has louis absolutely enraptured by her existence. then, he tries to win her over for his pride, and then..well...it spirals.

there's also the underlying benefits of getting reader to care more about him than louis bc then louis can't leave him without losing reader (most delusional and unrealistic part of his thought process tbh).

as far as end goals, he's a little lost bc all of this was an accident <3. it gets to a point where louis and reader are so intertwined, armand thinks he deserves to be with both of them. he's entitled to a matching set.

bestie reader's gen-z-ness being the reason she can see through everything armand says 😭. omg. in my head, she likes louis and armand together so when she realizes something is up she's like oh no. bc she obviously has to tell louis but she's not happy about it. lowkey on a subconscious level she doesn't want to not have armand in her life so she's like :(.

still calls him out tho bc she's loyal and also bc his lies are so egregious it's hard not to. i can picture her being lowkey sneaky when armand mentions saving louis, like feigning confusion and asking something like "just so i'm clear, isn't lestat also technically a powerful vampire? and wasn't he also in the building?" just to start something but also as a way of sending louis subliminal messages to lock in and open his eyes.

also i can see daniel realizing bestie reader knows something is up and looking at louis and being like "come on...i know, armand knows, even the girl that was really happy to be talking two minutes ago and now can't stop staring at the floor knows..." 😭

omg and armand liking being called out. this is for sure when his obsession with reader peaks. also, this hasn't come up yet, but i picture bestie reader as being very perceptive and when she argues with armand over small things she accidentally clocks him with next level reads that she'll never know how accurate they are. i'm talking reads so accurate, louis is immediately stepping in between them bc he thinks it's so over for her just for armand to let it go. (might need to write a drabble featuring this)

armand's love language to reader is not killing or torturing her for calling him out. it gets to a point where louis is like ? girl i've seen you kill people for implying what she just directly said?? if louis ever notices that something is going on with armand in relation to bestie reader it's bc of a suspicious lack of attempts to physically hurt her fr.

(also total side note, but bc you mentioned devil's minion, i just needed to say i love devil's minion era sm.)

omg in response to your side note, i LOVED that moment so much. "or what?" had me gagged. on the GROUND fr.

daniel and reader would get along so well. two divas coming together to maximize their joint slay. they're sitting around the penthouse giggling over the vampire drama like they're the immortal ones 😭.

also,, never apologize for sending me a long ask!! i'm currently very hyperfixated on iwtv and this was so fun for me! if anything, i'm sorry for how long this response was 😭💗

[365emotionlessfaces]

This is going to be a 10 part fic 🙃 I wrote it for entirely selfish reasons, but if you guys enjoy it, even better.

Melissa meets a girl at The Aspiring Teachers Program, but she’s just a kid. Many years later, she meets you and wonders if she should let go of the past.

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 1 WC~1.5k

Melissa was thirty-five and going through a nasty divorce from a nasty man. She had been in the teaching game for a decade now, and the last thing she wanted to do was volunteer for some Aspiring Teachers Program. Well, second to last. The redhead supposed that the only thing worse would be to be spending the week in the same house as Joe.

When she had told her friend, Barbara from work, the woman had just laughed and said that she had quit going to those things years ago. Too much hullabaloo for her liking. But Melissa needed out of the house, so she decided this would be the first and the last time she signed up for this stupid program.

The end of the school year came faster than Melissa would have liked, and by the second day of summer break, her suitcase was packed and she was on a flight to Chicago, of all places. The stupid program chose a new city and a different mix of teachers every year, so there was no guarantee you’d get an invite. To Melissa, that didn’t sound like too bad a deal. Yeah, sure, she’d have to be around a bunch of eighteen to twenty year olds, answer their questions, try to get them interested in teaching, and she was definitely not thrilled about that, but it beat what was waiting at home. Plus, it was all expenses paid.

When Melissa’s taxi pulled up to the camp, the literal camp, she started to think maybe she shouldn’t have come. It was very… rustic. Looking around, she realized that this thing was a lot bigger than she had anticipated. There must be at least a hundred people walking around. She noted the woman with the bullhorn seemed to have a sense of calm in the chaos that looked to be surrounding her. As Melissa exited the taxi, the bullhorn lady could be heard calling out names and assigning them to cabins. She rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long week.

As she stood amongst the crowd, but far enough back that she had a healthy amount of personal space, she listened for her name. A girl hollering off to her left made her turn her head to see the hubbub.

“Yo, Tie-Dye Girl. A little help here!” A young girl of probably twenty or so, stood in front of a giant pile of duffel bags and suitcases and waved to a woman in her forties wearing a campy tie-dyed shirt, who promptly turned on her heel and came to the girl's rescue. Melissa rolled her eyes.

“It’s giving Parent Trap,” a voice from Melissa’s right jolted her away from the tie-dye scene and to the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed teenager that stood beside her. The shock of the girl being so close startled Melissa so much, she let out a small yelp.

“What the hell are ya doin’, kid?” Melissa snapped. “I coulda killed ya.” The girl was not affected by Melissa’s harshness, or if she was, she certainly didn’t show it. In fact, Melissa was sure she saw the girl’s grin grow wider before she replied.

“Sorry,” the girl was radiating happiness and cheer, and it was almost enough to make Melissa sick. “You were standing here all alone, so I thought I’d make a friend.” The girl’s smile was so bright and strong, Melissa wondered if the girl ever stopped smiling. “It just reminds me of a movie from when I was a little girl.”

“You’re still a little girl.”

“I’m young, sure, but I’m almost twenty,” Melissa huffed at the girl’s response. Her smile still hadn’t faltered.

“Listen, I’m not a good friend, okay? So why don’t ya go make friends with those guys over there?” The redhead pointed randomly in the crowd, hoping the young girl would get the hint and leave her the hell alone. She wanted to enjoy this week as much as she could, and having a thorn in her side would not make that task easy.

After the young girl kept trying to make conversation, and had gone so far as to introduce herself, Melissa felt obligated to at least give the kid a name.

“Em,” she had told her. When the girl asked for her full name, or even her last name, Melissa joked with her. “What are you? The cops? If you’re the cops, you gotta tell me!” The young girl laughed and seemed to leave the matter alone after that.

Melissa had gone to the restroom, and when she returned to her bags, the young girl and her bags had gone. She took that as a small blessing and continued to listen for her name. Once given her cabin, she trudged her way to it, bags trailing along with her. She pushed through the cabin door, looked around the room, and thanked her lucky stars that the remaining bed free of luggage was the bottom of one of the two bunk beds. She’d be damned if she had to climb a freakin’ ladder to get to bed!

She unpacked the clothes and most of things she brought, and headed to the mess hall where the first meeting would be held. This would be where Teacher Buddies would be assigned and Melissa got to find out who she’d be spending the next two weeks with. Melissa was considered a Veteran Teacher, despite the fact that she was only in her mid thirties. She supposed it was due to the fact that the older teachers knew better than to come to these things. Since she was of the higher rank, she would be assigned to an Aspiring Teacher. One of these fresh-faced little things that had their whole lives ahead of them, and they wanted to teach. Poor things.

When she entered the hall, it was all abuzz. It was worse than the cafeteria at her elementary school the day after Halloween. There were grown adults and young adults laughing and yelling happily alike. Despite all the noise, Melissa thought it was kinda nice to see a room full of happy faces. Even if she knew most of them wouldn’t last. She looked around and found a few faces that looked like they wouldn’t be too much trouble for the next week. She hoped that she got one of them.

She was approached by the bullhorn lady, only this time she didn’t have the bullhorn, and was told that as a Veteran Teacher, she would go up on the stage with the other Veterans and draw the name of their Aspiring Teacher. This idea was not as thrilling to Melissa as Bullhorn Lady was trying to make it seem, but she did it anyway. When it was her turn, and she pulled out the name that young girl from earlier had given her, she considered making up a fake name, and pretending that her Aspiring Teacher hadn’t shown up. Unfortunately, before she could enact that plan, Bullhorn Lady took the paper and read the young girl’s name out loud. There was clapping and hooting, and then there the girl was again.

She and Melissa made their way to a table in the back and sat down. Melissa looked at the girl as she made some comments about not believing in fate or destiny and some bullcrap about coincidences, and the redhead wondered why the girl would tell her something like that. The girl had that damn smile, still, and her eyes were… kinda shiny. Melissa wondered if she had been that beautiful when she was younger. Surely not, or she wouldn’t currently be going through a divorce.

“So, whattaya think?” The young girl asked, making Melissa snap back to reality.

“Sorry, Parent Trap. I wasn’t listenin’. Whadja say?” This time when the girl smiled, there was something else to it. The redhead noticed the difference, but couldn’t quite tell what it meant. Melissa had to work to focus on what she was saying instead of getting lost in her thoughts again.

“I was thinking that you could hit me with the worst of it first. Tell me all the horror stories about teaching, so I can steel myself for them now, ya know? And then if I can make it through those, maybe you can tell me why it’s worth it?”

Those plans were foiled before Melissa could be the one to break the girl’s heart. Bullhorn Lady announced that the week would be a series of competitions and games for the Buddies, and the free time at the end of the nights would be dedicated to asking and answering all the questions the Aspiring Teachers had. Melissa groaned. This is not what she thought this week would look like.

When she returned to her cabin after everyone was released from the mess hall, Melissa was surprised to see that not only was the young girl her Buddy, she was also one of her three roommates. ‘Oh, boy. This just keeps getting better.’ She decided that it was in her best interest to mind her business, and only talk to the girl when necessary. So she grabbed her pajamas, and changed in the tiny bathroom provided in the corner of the only slightly larger cabin. The air was warm for Chicago, which made Melissa very glad that she chose the outfits she did. When she returned to her bed in her light pink silk tank top and matching shorts, she was too focused on minding her own business that she didn’t notice the young girl’s eyes glued to her frame or how flushed the girl’s face had become.

Part Two

[irishironclad]

Walking As Somebody Else

Some place in Tennessee that had no name nor number to describe it there sat a rusted mobile home that some folk might assume abandoned or housing squatters. It if weren’t for the relatively new truck that was parked next to it. 

It was summer, the small AC unit dripped moisture and rattled in its struggle to warm the space that was too large for it. Vincent kept a clean home, any time there was a mess he felt an unnatural fear that someone would appear to scream at him about it. 

There were no pictures, no personal belongings unpacked, with everything away in luggage or small chests.  The cupboards held one plate, one bowl, one mug, and there was one set of silverware. 

Vincent sat in an old leather chair that he didn’t remember ever buying yet was wrinkled with his shape. He stared at a television he hardly ever bothered to turn on. While nursing a glass of Chattanooga 1816 Reserve paired with one of his cigarillos. Smoothing back his sandy blond hair he sighed and paid attention to his breathing and heart rate - listening for any abnormalities. There was no reason for an incident to happen now, but he worried about it constantly. There was no one he could call if it happened again. 

Today was the day he did it, the day he tainted his hands. He remembered trailing ash into the recruitment office, they didn’t question him none. More meat, another body. Vincent had hoped to die over there in the desert, but the Devil had other plans for him. So when they rotated him out, citing his ‘heart condition’ as why he couldn’t go back - he returned to nothing. 

The recession didn’t touch those who hadn't nothing to lose. Whatever Vincent had inherited from his daddy was left to ashes, and as far as the banks were concerned he died in those flames too. They weren’t too concerned to look, so he only needed to move to the other side of the state and no one thought much of it. 

So one bothered him, except for the lady who kept knocking on his door. See he’d made the mistake of getting involved, he realized soon enough that if he sat around doing nothing for nobody then soon enough he’d find himself eyeing the barrel of a gun. So he’d found himself working as a bounty hunter, as well as getting a P.I license. Helping out the local boys with a case here or there. Was even a sheriff’s deputy for a while. All that fell apart, it didn’t take long for them to get a whiff of who he truly was. No lawman. No protector. The stink of blood remained no matter what title he had. 

The woman at his door didn’t seem to get the message. Sarah-Lynn James had been calling on him a few times now. Vincent sighed and put down his drink, taking a moment to smooth his shirt and look presentable before opening the door. There stood a single mother, worn and tired, with gray streaking her once vibrantly red hair she now stood teary eyed with a freshly made casserole at his doorstep. 

“Mister Valério, I made you-” 

“Mrs James, that's very kind of you but I have to direct you to the sheriff again, I know you’re hurtin’ but I’m a bail bondsman not the police,” Vincent said calmly. 

“I know you’ve found people before who ain’t out on bail,” Mrs James said, her voice quivering, she shoved the casserole into Vincent’s arms and he had no real choice but to take it. It was still warm and smelled like it was chicken. 

“Mrs James those were criminals and known fugitives, missing children ain’t really-” 

“Her name is Jane, she just turned twenty, a tiny thing she never ate right. She’s allergic to shellfish and has a beauty mark on her right cheek,” Mrs James produced a polaroid of her daughter, she looked like a younger version of her mother. With all the life and energy of youth. Vincent’s chest tightened. 

“Ma’am the sheriff’s department…”

“Won’t lift a finger, says she’s an adult, she only just turned eighteen! And she’s never been one to leave like this!” 

He wanted to help, but there were complications. It was outside of his licensing, even if he was a former sheriff’s deputy this was stepping out of the line. Vincent had been careful, folk were out looking for people like him. It had been on the news more and more, and putting himself into harm's way - it only invited exposing himself. And really, what right had he to do good? That wasn’t he. He found bad people, not good ones. It was a different sort of hunt. 

“Mrs James…” he started. He had a hundred reasons he could give, but when he caught her gaze they died in his throat. Mrs James brown eyes were red and puffy and lined but they were the same as her daughters. Vincent saw they had the same laughter and joy in them, or they did. 

“Thank you for the casserole…” Vincent sighed. “Maybe… I’ll come by later, look at her room, see if I can’t find a lead.” 

“That's all I ask, thank you, thank you so much.” 

She left blissfully quickly and Vincent was able to close his door and place the casserole down with a sigh. He could humour her, head over, take a look, and tell her that there’s no way to find her daughter. That would be the smart thing to do. That would keep him safe. Even if the look in that mothers eyes struck at his heart. 

He got away with how things were, deputies turning a blind eye, using a false name. But this was real detective stuff… it would draw attention. Yet, the feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away. If he couldn’t do this then why was he…

Vincent shook his head and stood up. Stuffed into a corner was a footlocker, hidden under stacks of files and old paperwork. Vincent cleared off the mess and opened the footlocker, inside were more notes and some leather bound journals. Layed on top was a chain with dog tags hung from it. Vincent barely nudged them with his finger before he felt a nauseous anger boiling in his throat and he snapped the footlocker closed. He rubbed his eyes and chewed his lip, unsure what to do, yet unable to ignore the nagging need that urged him on. 

What use are you if you don’t? 

He could just keep it quiet and not bother anyone. 

You have sins to repay. 

Vincent clutched his hands into fists. He could almost feel it, the prickling stabbing sensation that he had run from. Would he need to do it again? 

Freaks like you don't deserve to be alive if you don’t do nothin’ for nobody. 

Vincent avoided phones these days, but he had a burner that he kept around just in case. Dialing a familiar number he got an answer with only a few rings.

“Deputy Jones speaking.”

“Hey Jim, it’s Vince.”

“...hey man, you doing alright?” 

“Yeah, could you do me a favour? Wondering if you know-” 

“-Vince… the boss has been wanting to talk to you, something about a case, this one has the feds involved.” 

“...what’re they saying?” Vincent asked carefully. 

“You’re not a suspect but they just wanna talk, I don’t know the details.” 

“Right, well, can you tell me anything about the Jane James case.” 

“Jane James… Vince, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, the case?” 

“It isn’t one, she’s an adult and ain’t been gone a day, why’re you asking about this?”

“Thanks Jim,” Vincent said, hanging up immediately. He snapped the phone in half and tossed it in the trash. 

Feds weren't a good sign, but he’d always known they’d sniff him out eventually. Most of the boys had some inkling, but he was useful enough they didn’t care. Some of them even understood, others wished they could have done the same. But they didn’t know for sure, they didn’t know the details. 

How long could he remain in hibernation? Not long, not if the feds were here. Vincent considered the casserole on his table. If he was going to be found out anyhow then what was the harm? That was the cold logic he gave himself, in truth the way Jim had dismissed the case all together. That didn’t sit right. 

He took the time to shower and shave, considering his jawline in the mirror Vincent decided to keep his mustache. He felt it made him look professional; as well as making his face look a tad different. He carefully combed his hair, cleansed his face, moisturized, and applied his favourite cologne; citrus and vanilla bean. He didn’t do all this to impress, it was like a cleansing ritual, attempting to wash off the taint from himself. Apply enough perfume and you couldn’t smell the stink of blood. 

He pulled on his boots and an old denim jacket and left, deciding to take his 1992 Harley Daytona for the short trip. It usually lived concealed under a tarp behind the trailer home, but some part of Vincent figured it may be a while yet before he could ride it again.

Mrs James lived on the outskirts of Nashville in a small little home on a hill apart from the other houses. The grass hadn’t been cut in a long while, and the house desperately needed a coat of paint.  Mrs James welcomed Vincent in with offers of sweet tea and more food which Vincent politely declined. 

Jane’s room was on the second floor, it had a window but a sheer drop below it. The room was no less messy than one would expect from a young woman. Though the drawers and closet had been left ajar from what looked like her quickly packing clothes. 

You picked up a few things tracking people, and Vincent had learned the easiest way for folk to go missing is when they go missing by choice. 

“You say she’s disappeared before?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Mrs James said. “But never this long, and not like this, she's never packed before or stayed out more than a night.”

“Did you let her go out like that?” Vincent asked. As much as he hated to think it, there was always a possibility Jane was running for a reason. 

“I didn’t approve but I knew she was young and… I should have been more strict, I shouldn’t have let her go out, stupid, but I didn’t want to bar her like some animal.” 

The tone was sincere, if Mrs James was the issue she would have blamed her daughter. Vincent carefully stepped around the room, looking for anything out of place. If she didn’t run away, then she may have been running to something. A boyfriend? 

“She never dated,” was mom’s answer. 

Could’ve been a secret boyfriend, maybe, but mom said she never dated not that she wasn’t allowed to date. Hiding a boyfriend usually came after the first boyfriend who mom didn’t like. 

“Friends?”

“Yeah, I mean, a few, sometimes and she’s gone out with them but never any real close friend you know? I worried sometimes about that, you need folk you can rely on.”

Vincent was entirely sure mom wasn’t to blame at this point. Sounded line Jane struggled to really connect with folk, but maybe she wanted to. Maybe that was what this was all about. On the veranda there were pictures of Jane, with friends, never the same ones. Always with her seemingly with a group, never just her and one other friend. Always tacked on, an addition, an afterthought. 

You’re sure you’re talking about Jane? 

No computer in the house, so if there was someone tempting Jane out of her home it was done in person. Vincent found no letters, no notes, not even a diary or day planner. He was beginning to understand why the sheriff’s department didn’t want to touch this. Still something smelt off, twinged the hairs on the back of Vincent's head. 

Back in the desert he’d grown this awareness for things, a look here, a movement there, one rock out of place. Helped with keeping the boys from being shot when no one was looking. Helped even more shooting the other boys when they thought you couldn’t see. You never did stop looking for targets in the sand, even when there wasn’t any sand. 

There was a trash bin though, and inside of it Vincent found a few wrappers and random bits of discarded paper. But then there was a ticket, fairly new, punched. On it read ‘Visions - Bar and Dance.’ Vincent thought for a moment and was fairly sure that wasn’t anywhere in Tennessee. 

“Cincinnati,” Mrs James said. “She’s been to that one before that… that was the only time I ever got mad at her for going out… I didn’t want her crossing state lines Oh God did I push her-” 

“Ma’am I've seen cases with runaways before,” Vincent said. “A lot of them parents gave their kids a lot of reasons to run away and it took years before they did, I don’t think this is your fault.”

“I’m just… I just want her back safe.” 

“I’ll… do what I can, ma’am,” it felt odd. To hunt down something lost, something wanted. Then to hunt what no one wanted anymore. 

Mrs James attempted to force money into his hands again, but he wouldn’t take it. Not this time. Not anymore. He left her with a promise. Hell or highwater he’d bring her girl back. 

Vincent returned to his trailer, his breath caught in his throat when he approached the footlocker again. He swallowed and opened it, pushing aside the dog tags and the papers to find a wooden box buried underneath. He retrieved it and quickly sealed the footlocker and its memories back up. 

The box contained a gift. A browning hi-power handgun, the grip was mahogany and the steel blues with silver engravings encroaching up the sides. The word’s “Be Not Afraid” written on the slide. It was polished and clean, never fired. Vincent pressed the cold metal of the slide to his lips. He didn’t need the gun, he knew this, but it allowed him to pretend. 

He retrieved a magazine and loaded the weapon with a click of the slide and the hammer. He stuffed the weapon into his waistband and hid extra magazines inside of his jacket. There wasn’t much else to take, none of it he needed, and none of it he’d be able to keep once he was caught up to. Better to travel light. 

On his way out Vincent gave the trailer a pat on its siding as a goodbye, and he did the same for his bike. As much as he wanted to take it out with him it just wasn’t practical. So he got into his brown 2001 Ford Ranger and set off without so much as a look back at what had been his home for the better part of three years. 

It was a five hour drive to Cincinnati. Vincent drove hard to the Kentucky border, he didn’t know how long before a warrant would be put out for him. But he was sure whatever courtesy he’d gained with the sheriff wouldn’t hold off the feds forever.  

He stopped at a twenty-four hour diner just across the state border, the sun having cast itself into the west with an explosion of orange light. Vincent sat down and ordered coffee along with steak and eggs. No one paid him any mind. The radio softly cut through the din of the various truckers in the diner eating and taking a rest. It cut between country blues and Elvis, and Vincent allowed himself to relax. 

The last song slowly faded away and a voice replaced it. 

“Thank you for listening to 181.6 FM, your voice on the road. I’m Jared Culsinger, and I have here with me Bobby Kinney, he’s the founder of the Preservationist Foundation here to talk about the latest reports of so-called Metahumans appearing across the United States, thanks for being here Bob.” 

Vincent froze, mid sip of his coffee, and resisted the urge to spit it out. He could physically feel the palpations of his heart pulsing through his body like ripples in a lake. 

“No problem Jared, thanks for having me.”

“Now as it stands the federal government as well as any of the states have refused to comment on the existence of these Metas, so what can you say to people at home that’re skeptical?” 

“Well Jared all you have to do is pay attention, multiple medical experts have stated on the record about these cases, we saw just in the news a few weeks ago a young girl burned her way through a concrete wall, these people are out there whether the government wants to admit it or not.” 

“And to the people at home should they be concerned at all?” 

“They should but I don’t want to fearmonger. Metahumans are people, they just have a condition, they’re scared and they often don’t know how to control what's happening to them. It’s in their best interest as well as the public’s that they be identified and given the help they need.” 

Vincent let nothing show on his face or in his actions. He calmly glanced around and it didn’t look like anyone was paying any attention to the radio. He wasn’t even sure what he’d do if he were to be found out; though it was ridiculous enough that anyone could tell what he was. 

“So Bob, how would the folk at home be able to tell one of these Metahumans from someone normal?”

“It can be hard, but a few things to look out for. There’s the obvious like them doing things that a human shouldn’t be able to do, feats of strength, injuries that would kill someone else. But what we’ve found is that they can never hide what they are from friends and family, so we find so many of them homeless or drifting. So I’d say give a close eye to anyone who seems to be wandering into town for no good reason, doesn’t seem to have any connections to anyone else, they give vague details about where they’re from. That sort of thing.” 

Vincent decided to keep on driving through the night. Only stopping once to catch an hour of two or sleep on a back road off the highway. He made it to Cincinnati by early morning. 

The whole place was a mess of office buildings and construction. Vincent never liked cities, but they were good places to disappear into. And harder places to find someone. Whole place smelt of piss, Vincent sneezed. 

He drove around a bit, getting a feeling for the area. It didn’t take long for him to wander downtown and soon the streets were lined with bars and clubs. The neon lights flickered brightly even in the brightening light of the morning. He didn’t see anywhere labeled ‘Visions’. 

Vincent figured that if Jane were here to go clubbing she would have gotten a room nearby so she wouldn’t have to walk far. He began driving in ever larger circles around the block until he found a hotel which matched the seedy tone this part of the city had. 

The receptionist was a lovely middle aged woman who looked Vincent up and down while dragging on a cigarette. Vincent recognized the look, and he wasn’t above using it to his advantage. 

“Hello, darlin’” he said, laying on the accent a tad smoother and thicker than he would naturally. “Hopin’ to stay a night or two.” 

“Absolutely,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “Visiting someone?”

“No one special,” it was a practiced dance, something he’d picked up over the years. “Know any good places to get a drink around here?” 

“Depends what you’re drinking,” she said. “What're your tastes, hon?”  

Men. 

“I like to try new things,” Vincent drawled. “Heard there’s a spot nearby, Visions?”

“Oh that's definitely new, all sorts go there, I’ve been there a few times,” the receptionist leaned on her hand. “Maybe I could take you?”

“Why don’t you sell me where it is, sugar, and I’ll meet you there tonight.” 

“It’s a date,” she said, and she scribbled an address and her number on a scrap of paper. “Still needing that room, hon?” 

“Something tells me I’ll find a place to stay tonight,” Vincent said with a wink, and the receptionist blushed violently. Vincent sauntered out, he memorized the address she had written down and then tossed the paper without even glancing at her number. In fact he hadn’t even looked at her name tag. 

The false face had come easily, the smile practiced, the look in his eyes, the way eh drawed out his vowels. No one taught him this, it was a natural thing. Different face, a different name. Alway walking as somebody else. 

Evening came soon enough, and with the neon signs illuminating the dimming streets Vincent. As he walked the streets he realized he felt elated, a smile growing on his face without his consent. The trail, the hunt, the chase, the searching. He missed these things, it felt right, it felt like him. 

Once he noticed it, instinctually he tried to push the feeling down out of reflex. Scared of what it meant, of why he felt this way. Forcing himself to remember his first hunt, his first kill. Acid scorched Vincent’s throat. By the time he found the club Vincent was frowning again. 

He watched as people lined up outside to get in. It was only half your average club crowd, frat boys and girls dressed in too little for the cold. But the other half was interesting, suits, all older, all were able to skip the main line and enter right away. 

Some of the suits the bouncer just glanced at and let in, but others had to wave cash. That was a way in quickly. Vincent was just about done eyeing his way in when he heard buzzing from his glove compartment. He opened it, pushing away the empty cigarillo packs and unpaid parking tickets to find one of his burner phones buzzing away. 

Vincent raised his eyebrow, he didn’t get scammers or anything. Anyone who called that number knew it and knew who they were callin. So Vincent flipped it open and answered. 

“Mister Valério?” 

“Who’s calling?” 

“Agent Milton, FBI.” 

“Right, and what can I do for you Mister Milton?” 

“Is this Vincent Valério I’m speaking to?” 

“It very well could be but I’m afraid I can’t answer that.” 

“Right, well, Mister Valério I have a few questions for you and I’m wondering if you might come down to the local station.” 

“Well I’m a might busy right now, Agent,” Vincent glanced behind him out of habit. No one was sneaking up on him. 

“I thought as much, when I visited your trailer you weren’t there and your vehicle was gone.”

“Nice of you to stop by.”

“Yes, do you mind telling me where you’ve gone?”

“Off to visit family.”

“Right, according to our records you have no living family.”

“Is that so?” Vincent rummaged around his glove compartment and managed to find a cigarillo. His voice had been calm, but this was a ploy. He had to play this game to buy himself time but he could feel the well of shame in his gut; a cauldron of self disgust that threatened to spew out of his mouth. The taste of tobacco on his lips soothed it slightly. 

“Your father died in 2006 right?”

“I’m sure you know already.” 

“And you enlisted to the US Army Rangers that same year, correct?” 

“You tell me.” 

“It’s not exactly normal behaviour to enlist right after a close family member dies is it?” 

“I wouldn’t know.” 

“And then there’s the manner of his death, coroner didn’t even know what he was looking at, it was like something tore him apart from the inside. He couldn't even put down cause of death.” 

“I didn’t read that case,” Vincent said. He dragged heavily on his cigarillo as the memory came to him. Gurgling and choking, red spikes piercing flesh from within. 

“Listen, Vince, I made this call out of professional courtesy for the work you’ve done and out of respect for you as a veteran but… I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist you come into the station or I’ll have to get a warrant.” 

“If ya could’ve gotten a warrant you would’ve already,” Vincent said. “So ya’ll either can’t or ain’t wantin' to, either way Agent, you and I ain’t gunna chat again.” 

Vincent hung up and snapped the phone in half, tossing it out the window before getting out and approaching the club. He joined the short line of suits who paid to get in. The bouncer raised an eyebrow at him, but accepted the wad of cash Vincent offered him. 

“Only 200$ to get in,” he said. 

“Keep the change.” 

“Much obliged but you sure this is your scene, cowboy?” 

“I’m sure, maybe you can point me to who I’d talked to if I wanted something… different?”

A hint of displeasure showed on the bouncers’ face “Talk to Chase at the bar, he’ll set you up.” 

“Thank ya”

The pounding beat of music vibrated through the neon halls. Doorman was right, it wasn’t his scene at all. Vincent never did like techno much. 

There were three sorts of folks here. The ones with a lot of tattoos and too little clothes. Full of piercings and strange colours all over. Then there were the suits, stiff and coked up; looking for something they could only taste privately. Then there were the staff, all young, too young. Girls and boys both. Vincent felt something settle in his stomach that he didn’t like. 

The dance floor was crowded with people lost in a haze of substance and song, neon beams streamed across them like search lights. Older men pulled young women into private rooms furnished in velvet. Vincent noticed the weight of his gun more and more. 

Vincent skirted around the crowd and towards the bar, he sat down with a sigh. Pinching his nose, he had to focus on Jane. He began to think through how he would search the place, that was until he was distracted by the bartender. 

His messy curly brown hair was pulled back in a short loose tail, his turtle neck hugged his body a little too much. And he smiled sweetly at Vincent, who couldn’t help the grin he got on his face. 

“What can I get you?” he asked. 

“Whatever you’re best at, sugar,” Vincent drawled. The bartender batted his long eyelashes and grinned, reaching down to grab a glass. Vincent swore he was showing himself off. 

“What’s a cowboy like you doing here?” 

“Looking… for something.”

“Oh yeah?” the bartender delicately placed the drink before him, his nails were painted blue. “What would that be?” 

Vincent slowly sipped the drink, tasting sweet whiskey and pomegranate as he looked him over. 

“You first, what’s your name, sugar?” 

“Chase,” he purred. 

“And what’s a pretty little thing like you doing working here?” 

“It’s a job,” he shrugged a graceful shoulder. “Now you got a name, cowboy? Or you too mysterious for that?” 

“V- Cain” 

“Cain,” Chase repeated, tasting the sound of it. “Very mysterious, that your real name?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Good.”

“Still haven’t told me what you’re looking for, so what is it, cowboy?” 

Vincent paused, weighing his options. For all he knew he’d be arrested on return home, one night couldn’t hurt… he snuffed that thought quickly. It was tempting, but not important, he had work to do. 

“Looking for something different, taste wise,” Vincent said. “I heard they did that sort of thing around here.” 

The playful light dropped from Chase’s eyes and his smile dropped, Vincent hated it. 

“Yeah,” he said, he sounded almost robotic. It was as if he was forced to comply. “This way.” 

Chase brought Vincent past some curtains and down a long hall, the music faded to a distant hum as they entered a large dimly lit room. There Vincent joined a group of suits, all of whom looked strung out. They sat in plush velvet chairs, watching a dim stage in anticipation. Vincent joined them. 

The lights faded into a purple haze and from the curtains came ten women. Girls actually, the oldest couldn’t have been older than twenty, and the youngest was only twelve. Their faces were glazed over, staring off into the middle distance. All were dressed as if they were going to prom; with short skirts dressed full of sequins. The suits perked up, eyeing them and panting like rabid dogs. 

Vincent clenches his fists, he could feel a stabbing pain in his heart. His blood physically reacted to his anger, and threatened to reveal itself. He breathed through his nose, and scanned the lineup. 

It was hard to recognize her immediately with all the makeup they had plastered on her face. But there she was, Jane. The light from her eyes was gone. Vincent scanned the room, there were bouncers at every corner, likely armed. He would need to get Jane alone first. 

Chase came around and handed each man a menu, there displayed was each girl as if she was some premium cut of meat. With her age, her weight, and even her ‘mileage’ and though many of them had a number there Vincent was relieved a little to see Jane’s was zero. The price for each girl was barely that of a new car. 

Vincent’s heart pulsed but he maintained an air of calm; he indicated to Chase that he was interested in Jane. The suits chose their prize, Vincent struggled within to not kill them all here and save the other girls from what would happen next. He reminded himself he was here to do a job. One job. And getting himself killed helped no one. 

The girls were pulled off the stage and pushed into side rooms, the suits eagerly followed them, panting like dogs. Vincent swallowed back the acid in his throat and followed Jane into the room she was placed in. 

She stood waiting for him, staring off into the distance. She shook like a leaf, and blinked back tears. Though she otherwise looked unharmed. As Vincent stood there thinking of what to say she silently began to unclasp her dress. 

“Stop,” Vincent said quickly, Jane jumped in fear. Vincent softened his face and knelt down, speaking as calmly as he could. 

“Your name is Jane,” he said, and she froze. “Your mother is named Sarah-Lynn James, she sent me here, I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to get you out.” 

“Are you… with the police?” 

“Not exactly, my name’s Vincent, just breathe okay?”

Jane continued to sob softly into her hands. Vincent scanned the room, besides the lush bed and cushions, neon lights, and mirrored ceiling; there wasn;t much. No secondary exit. Vincent began considering how far he could get with Jane in tow before he was stopped; not far. 

He was considering hiding her under his jacket when the neon lights shut off abruptly and they were left in darkness. Vincent heard shuffling outside, footsteps, shouting. He gripped his pistol and pulled it from his waistband. 

Speakers crackled to life, and a soft voice spoke out into the darkness. 

“Step out.”

Vincent felt an immense pressure in his head, like the words physically weight a tone on his mind. His legs nearly moved to obey, like he was meant to do so; yet he caught himself. He blinked in confusion, and in that moment of lost focus he didn’t immediately realize Jane had left his side and walked towards the door. 

He jumped to his feet and shoved himself in front of her as she stepped into the now bright lights of the stage room. Jane bumping into Vincent’s back was enough to knock her out of her trance and she froze again. 

Vincent gripped his pistol with white knuckles but did not raise it, they were surrounded by twelve armed men who pointed pistols and shotguns at them. In the middle of them was a portly balding man who smiled brightly at him. 

“It doesn’t work the best on people like us,” he said, his voice reverberating through Vincent’s skull. His heart beat thumped in his head. 

“You don’t recognize me but I recognize you… Vincent, right?”

Vincent said nothing, he did his best to tune out what he was saying and scanned the room. Only one exit. 

“You look good, been working out? You’re not as skinny as you were but then we were both young.” 

Vincent observed the armed men, they all had that glazed empty-minded look about them. Behind them, just barely, Vincent could swear he saw Chase hovering behind them. 

“I was in the program too, Vince, I’m Basil remember? Cut pretty early because they realized my voice… well everyone hears it… everyone listens you know?” 

Vincent was having trouble not listening but he managed to keep his face blank even though he felt an urge to reply. Like he was obligated to, like he wanted to. 

“No matter what I say, everyone wants to listen and do as I say, except us, except metas, the stronger they are the more they resist,” Basil laughed. “Took some trial and error to figure out, but I realized what this meant. These people, they’re meant to serve me, I’m meant to command you see? That's why I have this voice.” 

Vincent tried to remember how many bullets he had. Thirteen rounds in each mag, one locked and loaded, two more in his pocket. That made thirty-nine rounds. More than enough if he was accurate, but he didn’t know if these thugs were wearing body armour, or if there were more waiting to bust in. 

“I realized these people are like cattle, so I treat them like such, bought and sold, meat for me to do as I will; but you, oh your power is even greater. You were a warrior. I could use a warrior, Vince.” 

Vince spotted Chase again, he was staring at him from behind the thugs. His eyes were wide, and has lost the glazed look that he had before. He stared at Vincent, and at Jane. Vincent looked at him intensely. 

“All your life, Vince, you’ve been a lapdog for the state, for the obsolete! We’re the next step, stronger, faster, smarter, it just takes time; that’s what I’m building here don’t you see? A world where we don’t have to walk as if we’re something we’re not!”

There was a pause, as Basil spread his arms open in expectation. Vincent stared at him unimpressed, and the smile slowly faded on Basil’s face. 

There was a crash and within a moment the whole room was plunged into darkness. Vincent reacted immediately, grabbing Jane and throwing them both to the side. Lunging behind the stage the darkness was cut with bright muzzle flashes as the thugs opened fire. 

Vincent shoved Jane onto the floor and covered her body with his as the bullets ripped around them. When there was a break in the gunfire he quickly popped out of cover and spit out a flurry of ten rounds, unsure if he even hit anything. 

Jane was crying, Vincent’s ears rang with noise. He smelt blood, and swore he felt sand between his fingers and the scent of blood mixed with the stench of burning oil. 

He grit his teeth and popped out of cover to fire three more times, until his pistol clicked empty. This time he definitely heard a body hit the floor; he dove back down to quickly flick out the empty magazine and replace it with a fresh one. 

The door to the room slammed open, light from the bar spilled into the darkness and illuminated a wide strip of the room. Five or six more bouncers rushed in, and Vincient stood and fired accurately as they paused to take stock of the situation. Two shots per man in rapid succession. Vincent threw himself backwards, his back slamming into the floor as bullets ripped through the stage, throwing wood splinters everywhere. 

Vincent felt his last magazine slip from his waistband and clatter to the floor, sliding under the stage and into the dark where he couldn’t see. While controlling his breathing he pulled back the slide on his pistol and saw he only had one round left. Next to useless, he stuck the weapon into his jacket. 

“There’s no way out of this, Vince!” Basil shouted from across the room. 

Vincent felt Jane’s trembling hand holding onto his arm. His heart beat hard in his chest. 

“All your life you’ve been running, the only way out of this is to show me what you are!” 

Vincent placed his hand over Jane’s, his fingers cracked like they were full of ice. 

“Keep your eyes closed and don’t move until I come back,” he said softly. 

Vincent’s heartbeat palpated through his body. Splinters formed under his flesh, spreading like ice. Hardening into crystal. Vincent found a nail on the floor and picked it up, before he got to his feet and slowly stepped out of cover. 

He kept his hands open and arms spread and Basil kept his men steady. The lights flickered back on and Vincent saw he was able to bring down seven of the thugs. 

“I know what you are,” Basil said, grinning triumphantly. 

“Doubt it,” Vincent said, and he took the nail to his wrist and tore open his flesh. 

Crimson blood spurt forth in a wide shower, immediately solidifying into razor sharp fragments which hailed down onto Basil and his thugs. They ducked and stumbled, covering their heads and eyes. 

Vincent flicked his wrist and blood rapidly formed a long spear which snapped off from his open wound, he gripped it and swung it in an arc knocking three of the men down by sweeping their legs. Adjusting his grip he shoved the point into the throat of the man to the far right, his pistol clattered to the ground as he gurgled on his own blood. 

Gunshots rang out, Vincent felt two pinpricks of pain on his back. He dropped the spear and turned, seeing a bouncer staring at him with wide eyes. A spike formed in Vicnent’s hand and he tossed it forcibly so it flew through the air and buried itself in his forehead. 

He whipped around and with the rapid movement of his arms Vicnent unleashed a flurry of spikes into the remaining bouncers between him and Basil. They ducked and stumbled to avoid them, but Vincent’s aim was true, and all of them fell to the ground with a six inch spike buried in their flesh somewhere. 

The room stank of blood and echoed with the sounds of dead and dying men. Basil lay on his back, staring up at Vincent with a mixture of fear and excitement. 

“Don’t you see what you're capable of? Don’t you see what you are?”

Vincent approached, blood dripping from his arm. He grabbed Basil by the throat and hoisted him up. 

“We’re… brothers, you and I,” he croaked. 

Vincent pressed his palm against Basil’s eye. 

“I killed my brother” 

His skull cracked loudly as the crystal shard shot right through his brain. 

Jane kept her eyes shut as Vincent led her out of the club, a trail of blood followed them. Yet just as quickly as it strained the floor the blood began to ripple and flow; pushed by an invisible current as it followed Vincent. Crawling up his leg to squeeze its way into his wound. The crystals shattered apart and melted into liquid which followed the flow. Vincent’s heart pumped painfully, the second he got to his car he popped an aspirin. 

He only told Jane to open her eyes when the club was far out of sight. She refused to listen until they were out of Cincinnati and headed towards the state border. 

Vincent inspected his wrist, only a thin scar remained. It had been so long since he’d done that. It felt… he hated that it felt good, like a pressure was released, a weight off his shoulders. Yet it also came with sickness, his heart hadn’t stopped aching. His head sounded, his blood felt heavy; constantly reminded of what was inside him. 

“Why didn’t ya call the police?” 

“What?” Vincent asked, starting out of his own thoughts. 

“The cops, why didn’t you call ‘em when you found me?” Jane asked. 

“Couldn’t be sure they’d actually help,” Vincent said. “Place has been there for a while, good chance five-oh know ‘bout it, and they’ve done nothin.” 

Jane was silent for a long while, Vincent scanned his mirrors. Looking for anyone tailing him, be it Basil’s goons or the feds. 

“He called you a Meta,” Jane said. Vicnent glanced at her in his rearview mirror, she was staring out the window at the passing farmland. 

“Yep.” 

“I’ve heard talk about them on the radio, folk don’t like ‘em.” 

“Yep.” 

“That… man, he was one.” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you?” 

Vincent considered the road for a moment. 

“I’m just here to get you home.” 

They rode in silence for a long while, until Jane spoke again. 

“I won’t tell no one.” 

Vincent couldn’t help but smile softly to himself. He saw a turnoff that led to a service plaza, little more than a gas station, a truck stop, and a few other amenities. But there was a McDonalds. 

“You hungry, kid?” 

Soon enough Jane was sitting munching on fries and a burger, she even managed a little smile. Vincent smiled back as he sipped a cup of coffee. 

He tried not to think about how Jane would turn out later, how any of this would affect her in life. But maybe, just maybe, a few quiet moments feeling like a little kid again would help. He sure as hell never got that. 

“Can I get a McFlurry?”

“Knock yourself out, kid.” 

They took their time but soon enough they were off again down the highway, Jane slurping down a milkshake and Vincent feeling a little bit better. The drive back to Tennessee was remarkably uneventful, Vincent even found himself not looking around for danger. A sense of peace came over him, the last thing he did as a free man was a wholly good one. 

He pulled into the driveway of the James home, Mrs James opened the door, her eyes welling with tears. Vincent had hardly parked his truck when Jane ran out and sprinted into her mothers arms. They were both wailing and laughing, touching each other's faces. 

Vincent stood off, hands in his pockets. Allowing them their moment, before he quietly stepped back into his truck. 

“Wait! Mister Valério!” Mrs Jones rushed up to the window of the truck, leaning in to kiss Vincent on the cheek. 

“Is there sure there’s no way I can pay you?”

“Like I said, ma’am, the casserole is enough, take care of your daughter now,” Vincent looked over at Jane. “Stay out of trouble, you hear?”

“Yes sir,” Jane said with a smile. 

Sirens echoed through the air and Vincent pulled out of their driveway, speeding off as the sirens got louder. He blew past the turn that led to hsi trailer, seeing the distant glow of police lights heading that way. 

He turned back towards the highway. He was sure he wouldn’t get far, and a part of him screamed to give it up. Yet a more base animalistic voice drove him to run, flee, at least try to escape the noose tightening around his neck. 

Vincent turned onto the highway, as he did so, seemingly out of nowhere, three black SUV’s turned onto the highway with him. They matched his speed exactly. Vincent glanced at them through his mirrors, their windows were tinted illegally dark. Feds. 

He pressed onto his gas, the old engine in his truck shuttered. One of the SUV’s pulled ahead of him. Vincent tried to swerve but hsi front locked with the SUV’s rear and pitted him into a spin. Vincent kept himself from rolling over and came to a stop, looking up to see his truck boxed in and surrounded by men with guns and dark shades. 

Game over. 

Vincent placed a cigarillo in his mouth and lit ii, casually stepping out. He half expected to get shot right there and then, but he wasn’t. He frowned. Cops weren;t this quiet, even Feds. He looked around, they all had weapons trained on him, but no shouts, no commands to see his hands, nothing. No logos either…

“Mister Valério,” a woman’s voice said. Vincent turned around, a brown woman in a suit approached him. Her heels clicked against the pavement, the tip of a tattoo poked out from her collarbone. She extended a hand. 

“You can call me Saturn,” she said, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I have a career opportunity for you.” 

TAGS: Remember when I used to tag people? @west-end-lady @redheadedbrunette @bespectacled-ghost @lowes-core-waifu @talesfromgringolandia @borgesperovago @thelegendofsqam @beakedwhalesyo @a-beautiful-crow @paula-of-christ @tinfoil-catholic @kasrkinguardsman @rose-in-the-snow @supreme-leader-stoat @the-lost-alchemist @holbytlanna @cousin-possum-kc @cheerfullycatholic @cat-a-holic @the-writers-wrench @animeandcatholicism @the-tea-and-book-nook @lions-online-library @lady-larklight

lemme know your thoughts and if you wanna be added to the tag list

[paradise-world]

Act Like You Love Me | Sung Hanbin ZB1

Summary : You’re an up-and-coming actress, and Hanbin is a smug, arrogant A-list star who stole the role you wanted. When the media mistakes your heated argument for romantic tension, your agency forces you into a fake dating stunt to boost publicity. You hate the way he smirks when he teases you, but the way his hand lingers on your waist makes your heart race. As the line between acting and reality blurs, one question remains: when the cameras stop rolling, will your feelings disappear too?

Genre : Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Celebrity Romance, Fem!Reader, Actress!Reader, Actor!Hanbin, Smut, Suggestive, Fluff

Warning : The pet name "princess" occurs a lot, smut (there's a warning before it occurs)

Featuring : Hong Seunghyun (Juhan) from BLITZERS

Playlist : New Magic Wand by Tyler The Creator / Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys / Touch It by Ariana Grande / Locked Out Of Heaven by Bruno Mars / Into It by Chase Atlantic / Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex / True Love by Pink & Lilly Allen / Norman Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Rey / Scary Love by The Neighborhood / Wrong by Zayn & Kehlani

Word count : 20k (20,910 if you want exact...)

you've always loved slipping into different lives, becoming someone else even if just for a moment. the stage, the screen—it all felt like home. your parents saw that spark early, paying for your first acting lessons when you were twelve. middle school drama club, high school theatre productions—each role you played, each scene you perfected, only deepened your passion. you were never the loudest in the room, never the one begging for attention, but the moment you stepped into character, all eyes were on you. it was the one place you felt invincible.

by eighteen, you were funding your own dream. working odd jobs to afford acting classes, refining your craft, and reshaping yourself—not just in talent but in the way you presented yourself to the world. you started going to the gym, dyed and cut your hair whenever you needed a change, took care of yourself in ways big and small. manicured nails, regular waxes, health check-ups—every detail was intentional, a part of your silent promise to yourself that you would make it. plastic surgery? tempting, sometimes. but you wanted to prove that you were enough as you were. no shortcuts, no regrets.

like most actors, you started at the bottom. background roles, standing just out of focus while others stole the scene. but then came your first real opportunity—han hyojoo, a respected agent, saw something in you. she took you under her wing, guiding you to your first speaking roles. a bit part in "rivalry & roses," a college movie that got decent buzz. then a supporting role in "the rival’s game," a corporate romance that put your face on the map. each step forward was another reminder: you were getting closer.

now, you wanted more. a lead role. not just any lead role—"written in the stars," a fantasy royalty romance that could cement your name in the industry. the kind of film that could turn you from a rising star to a household name.

your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you pull up to the audition venue. deep breath. you’ve worked for this, fought for this. no matter who you have to go up against, you’re not backing down.

today, you’re not just playing a role.

today, you prove you deserve it.

you arrived at the audition venue, a grand hall filled with hopeful actors vying for their chance at a breakthrough. the air buzzed with anticipation, scripts clutched tightly in hands, whispered rehearsals echoing off the walls. you kept your focus forward, but then—

hanbin.

he stood among the crowd, effortlessly commanding attention. his black hair, styled to perfection, and dark brown eyes brimming with confidence. the smug smirk on his lips was enough to make your blood boil. he exuded arrogance, but there was no denying his presence. he was an a-list star, after all. people watched him with awe, whispering about how he would likely claim the lead role.

you clenched your fists, determination burning within you. this role was yours, and you would prove it.

one by one, aspiring actors took their turn before the directors. some stumbled over their lines, others shined, but you refused to let nerves shake you. when your name was called, you stepped forward, every ounce of your training igniting inside you.

"i hate studying, why can't i just go outside & explore like other normal people?" you delivered the line with raw emotion, channelling every ounce of longing and frustration. then, you sang, voice steady, carrying the melody with ease.

"i've got this shake in my legs, shaking the thoughts from my head," you sang, pouring your heart into each note. when you finished, the room was silent for a moment before the directors exchanged glances and nodded approvingly.

"that was incredible," one of them said. "your technique, your voice—it’s all there."

you exhaled, relief washing over you. they motioned for you to step aside, and you did, heart still racing.

then, hanbin stepped forward.

he delivered the same lines, his voice smooth, controlled, effortless. then, he sang more, voice filling the space with undeniable star power. the audience was transfixed.

by the end of the audition, the directors exchanged murmurs before turning back to the anxious crowd.

"we have made our decision," one of them finally announced. "the lead role will be given to... hanbin."

it felt like the ground beneath you had crumbled away.

this was supposed to be your role.

but now, it was stolen.

the moment the words left the director’s mouth, something inside you snapped.

"what?" your voice was sharp, incredulous. your breath came in uneven bursts as you turned toward the panel. "you’re giving the role to him?"

hanbin exhaled a low chuckle, arms crossing over his chest as he looked down at you. "wow. didn’t expect you to take it this hard," he mused. that damn smirk never left his face.

"take it hard?" you repeated, stepping closer, the heat of your frustration rising. "this role was mine. i worked for this. i poured everything into this audition, and you just—" you gestured at him wildly, "—walk in with your celebrity status and take it like it’s your birth right?"

hanbin tilted his head, looking amused rather than defensive. "i mean, can you blame them? talent recognizes talent."

"oh, you arrogant—!" you bit back a frustrated breath, jaw tightening as you stared at him. "you think you’re so untouchable, don’t you? like just because you’re famous, you automatically deserve every role?"

hanbin gave an exaggerated shrug. "hey, if the shoe fits."

something about his careless attitude made your blood boil.

you took another step forward, standing so close you could see the slight gleam in his dark brown eyes. "you didn’t even need this role. you already have a hundred others lined up. this was supposed to be my break."

"maybe you should've acted better, then," he said smoothly, tilting his chin. "the directors made their choice. not my problem if you can’t handle losing."

his words sliced through you, and for a brief second, the hurt almost overshadowed your anger. almost.

you scoffed, shaking your head. "you’re impossible. do you even care about this film, or is it just another stepping stone for you? another notch on your long list of wins?"

hanbin leaned in just slightly, voice dropping into a teasing lilt. "does it bother you that much? knowing they think i'm the better choice?"

the sheer audacity of him made your hands curl into fists. you opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but then a murmur from the crowd made you pause.

you hadn’t even noticed how silent the room had become, how everyone had stopped what they were doing just to watch the two of you. and they weren’t watching like it was a fight. no, they were watching like it was something else entirely. something electric.

"they have so much chemistry," someone whispered.

"i swear i thought they were about to kiss," another person chuckled under their breath.

realization hit you like a slap to the face.

you stepped back abruptly, heart hammering, but hanbin just smirked deeper, as if he had figured it out before you had.

"well," he murmured, eyes twinkling with amusement. "this just got interesting."

the next morning, you sat in hyojoo’s office, a tablet in her hands as she scrolled through endless articles. the headlines were impossible to ignore.

"'a lovers' quarrel? sparks fly between rising actress and a-list star hanbin.'" she read out loud before snorting. "are they serious? a lovers’ quarrel? they must’ve been watching a different argument than the one i saw."

"no kidding," you muttered, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed. "there was nothing romantic about that. we were one step away from throwing punches."

hyojoo tapped the screen, scanning the article. "apparently, the world disagrees. listen to this: 'eyewitnesses describe an intense chemistry between the two actors, their heated exchange dripping with unspoken passion. if this is just an argument, imagine what their on-screen romance will look like.'" she scoffed, setting the tablet down. "unspoken passion? you looked ready to strangle him."

"exactly!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up. "this is insane. i worked my ass off for that role, and he just waltzed in, took it, and now suddenly we’re a ‘potential power couple’?"

hyojoo shrugged, amused. "people love drama. and apparently, they love you two."

"they love hanbin," you corrected. "i'm just caught in the crossfire."

"not exactly," she said, leaning forward. "your name is everywhere right now. overnight, your social media following doubled. your previous roles are being rewatched. hell, even your old high school drama performances are getting attention."

you blinked. "wait—what?"

"yep," she nodded, picking up her phone and showing you a clip of your past performances. "someone dug up footage from ‘rivalry & roses’ and it’s trending. the internet is eating this up."

"this is ridiculous," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "i don’t want my career to be built on some fake rumor."

"welcome to the industry," hyojoo said dryly. "it’s all about perception. whether it’s true or not, people believe what they want to believe. and right now, they believe you and hanbin have some sort of fiery, love-hate dynamic."

"more like hate-hate," you grumbled.

"doesn’t matter," she countered. "what matters is how we handle this."

you glanced at the tablet again, rereading the headlines. "i just... i don’t get it. how did this even start?"

hyojoo tapped her fingers against the desk. "well, your argument was loud, public, and heated. that kind of energy can be interpreted in different ways. and let’s be honest, hanbin doesn’t exactly help the situation. he was smirking the entire time, looking like he was enjoying riling you up."

"he was enjoying it," you muttered.

"exactly," hyojoo said. "so people saw tension. and in their minds, tension equals chemistry. they think you two are one step away from a dramatic romance."

you groaned. "this is ridiculous."

hyojoo smirked. "not to them. to them, it's the start of the next great celebrity love story."

before you could respond, hyojoo’s phone buzzed loudly against the desk. you both glanced down at the screen.

it was a call from your agency.

you swallowed, heart thudding.

"well," hyojoo said slowly, meeting your eyes. "this should be interesting."

hyojoo didn’t hesitate before swiping her thumb across the screen to accept the call. "you’re on speaker phone," she announced, placing the device on the desk between you both.

"who are you with?" a firm, authoritative voice asked through the speaker.

"up-and-coming actress son y/n," hyojoo replied, her tone professional. but the moment she glanced at you, there was a teasing glint in her eyes. she might as well have winked at you with how smug she looked.

you shot her a death glare, but she just barely held back a chuckle.

"ah, perfect! son y/n?" the voice continued.

"that’s me," you responded, keeping your voice steady even though you had no idea where this conversation was heading.

"we’ll get straight to the point," the voice said without any hesitation. "you need to enter a fake dating arrangement with sung hanbin."

you blinked. then you blinked again.

hyojoo’s eyes widened slightly in mild amusement, but she remained quiet, waiting for your reaction.

"excuse me?" you finally said, convinced you had misheard.

"a fake dating stunt. you and hanbin," the voice reiterated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "you can’t be serious."

"completely serious," they confirmed.

"why?" you asked, voice laced with disbelief. "why in the world would i do that?"

"because the media has already spun this argument between you and hanbin into a full-fledged romantic story," the voice explained. "the public is eating it up. they think your tension is romantic tension. and we intend to capitalize on it."

your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as you processed their words. "you want me to... what? hold hands with him in public? gaze into his eyes like he’s my soulmate? post cute couple pictures?" you scoffed. "we hate each other."

"that’s precisely why this works," the agency representative countered smoothly. "the push-and-pull dynamic between you two is exactly what the public loves. they’ll eat up every interaction, whether it’s staged or not. and in turn, it boosts both your careers. hanbin’s already at the top, but you? this could catapult you into a whole new level of stardom."

hyojoo let out a low whistle, tapping a finger against her chin. "they’re not wrong, y/n. this could be huge for you."

you turned to her, incredulous. "you’re seriously considering this?"

she lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "i mean, i understand why they’re suggesting it. you’d be everywhere. interviews, magazine covers, brand deals. it’s a free ticket to the next stage of your career."

"at the cost of my dignity," you grumbled. "besides, hanbin would never agree to this. he’s probably laughing his ass off about the rumours."

"actually, he’s already aware of the plan," the agency voice said. "his team has been briefed, and while he hasn’t officially accepted, he’s open to discussion."

you threw your hands up. "of course he is. probably thinks it’ll be fun to torment me even more."

"listen, y/n," the voice softened slightly, but still held authority. "we understand that this isn’t an ideal situation for you. but this is how the industry works. perception is everything. and right now, the world perceives you two as something they want to see more of. it’s a golden opportunity. one that, quite frankly, we highly recommend you take."

you sat back in your chair, exhaling sharply. this was madness. absolute madness.

but the voice wasn’t wrong. overnight, you had gone from an ambitious actress clawing for recognition to someone the entire industry had its eyes on. if you said no, the moment would pass, and you’d fade back into the background while hanbin moved on unscathed. but if you said yes...

"what exactly would this entail?" you asked hesitantly.

hyojoo smirked, knowing you were cracking.

"simple," the agency voice replied. "public appearances together. red carpets, interviews, maybe a few strategically placed paparazzi photos. you don’t have to actually date him, just act like it."

"act like it," you echoed bitterly. "so lie."

"call it what you want," they said. "but make no mistake—this will benefit you both. and if things go well, who knows? maybe it’ll even land you a lead role in your next project."

you swallowed hard. they were dangling everything you had ever wanted right in front of you.

"you have until tomorrow to decide," the voice continued. "a meeting has been arranged at our agency. hanbin and his agent will be there. we suggest you and hyojoo be there as well."

before you could say anything else, the call ended.

the room was silent for a moment. then hyojoo let out a low chuckle. "well, that was something."

you dropped your head onto the desk with a groan. "kill me. just kill me now."

you didn’t lift your head from the desk. "i can’t do this."

hyojoo’s laughter was soft but not entirely unsympathetic. "you’re being dramatic."

"i am an actress," you shot back, voice muffled against the wood. "being dramatic is my job."

hyojoo reached over, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "look, i know this isn’t what you expected. but take a second and really think about it. this could be the break you’ve been waiting for."

you lifted your head just enough to glare at her. "at the cost of my sanity? my dignity? my peace?"

she raised an eyebrow. "aren’t those all things you already sacrificed when you decided to be an actress?"

you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "why does it have to be him? why hanbin? of all the people in the industry, why did the universe decide to screw me over like this?"

hyojoo leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "because life is funny like that. besides, maybe this won’t be as bad as you think."

"oh, really?" you snorted. "do you know something i don’t? because last i checked, hanbin was a smug, arrogant, irritating—"

"handsome, talented, incredibly popular—"

"—narcissistic, egotistical menace," you finished sharply.

hyojoo just shrugged. "i mean, all of that is probably true, but so what? your job isn’t to like him. your job is to pretend to like him."

you sighed, resting your forehead against the desk again. "pretending to like him might be harder than actually liking him."

hyojoo smirked. "see? you’re already getting into character."

you groaned again, kicking your foot out in frustration. "this isn’t funny. i don’t even know how to prepare for something like this. what am i supposed to do? mentally rehearse flirting with him? practice gazing into his stupidly perfect eyes without throwing up?"

hyojoo tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin. "honestly? yeah, not a bad idea. maybe you should visualize it. picture yourself on a date with him, hand in hand, smiling at each other—"

"stop. just stop," you cut her off, grimacing. "you’re enjoying this way too much."

"i really am," she admitted, laughing. "but all jokes aside, you need to go into that meeting tomorrow with a clear head. don’t let your personal feelings cloud your judgment. if you go in there all tense and defensive, it’ll make things worse."

"easier said than done," you muttered. "the moment i see that smug look on his face, i might throw something."

hyojoo chuckled. "then maybe don’t look at his face."

you exhaled slowly, rubbing your temples. "i just... i need to find a way to deal with this. to make peace with it."

"then start by remembering why you’re doing this," hyojoo said gently. "this is about your career. about everything you’ve worked for. hanbin might be an obstacle, but he’s also an opportunity. you don’t have to like him—you just have to outplay him."

her words settled over you like a strange sort of comfort. you didn’t have to like him. you just had to act like you did. and if there was one thing you were good at, it was acting.

you let out a long breath, nodding. "okay. fine. i’ll do it."

hyojoo grinned. "now that’s the spirit."

you stood up, stretching your arms above your head. "i’m going to take a nap. i need more than eight hours of sleep if i’m going to survive tomorrow."

hyojoo smirked. "sweet dreams. maybe you’ll dream about your new ‘boyfriend.’"

"if i do, i’m blaming you," you shot back before walking away, already dreading the day to come.

the next day arrived too soon, and before you knew it, you were standing outside your agency’s sleek glass building, staring up at the towering structure as if it held all the answers to your problems. beside you, hyojoo nudged your arm, her eyes dancing with amusement at your evident hesitation.

"stop looking like you’re walking into an execution," she teased. "it’s just a meeting."

"just a meeting?" you scoffed, adjusting your blazer for what felt like the hundredth time. "hyojoo, i am about to be legally bound to pretending i like sung hanbin. this isn’t ‘just’ anything."

she smirked, nudging you again. "well, at least you look good doing it. fake it ‘til you make it, y/n."

rolling your eyes, you exhaled sharply and pushed open the glass doors, stepping into the agency’s pristine lobby. the air smelled of expensive cologne and freshly brewed coffee, the kind of place where business deals were made with smiles that didn’t quite reach the eyes. the receptionist greeted you both warmly before directing you to the conference room at the end of the hall. your heels clicked against the polished floors, each step making your stomach churn with nerves.

as soon as you entered the room, the air shifted.

hanbin was already there, leaning against the table with an effortless arrogance that made your skin crawl. his perfectly tailored suit only added to his infuriating presence, making him look like he belonged in a magazine ad rather than a serious business meeting. his manager stood beside him, just as polished and professional, but at least he had the decency to not smirk at you the way hanbin did.

his eyes met yours, and there it was—that signature smug smirk. "look who finally decided to show up," he drawled, his voice laced with that insufferable teasing lilt. "i was starting to think you chickened out."

without missing a beat, you shot back, "trust me, if i had any other choice, i wouldn’t be here."

hanbin chuckled, extending a hand. "since we’re going to be spending so much time together, let’s at least pretend we’re civilized."

for a moment, you hesitated before begrudgingly shaking his hand. his grip was firm, warm—too steady for your liking. you withdrew your hand quickly, and he merely tilted his head in amusement. hyojoo and hanbin’s manager exchanged pleasantries before the representatives from your agency entered, carrying thick folders and a laptop.

"let’s begin, shall we?" one of them said, motioning for everyone to take a seat.

across from hanbin, you sat stiffly, determined to ignore the way he stretched lazily in his chair, exuding an infuriating air of ease. his fingers drummed idly against the tabletop—a silent, smug reminder that he was enjoying this far too much.

as the presentation began, a slideshow clicked onto the screen. the first slide displayed various headlines from major news outlets, all pushing the same ridiculous narrative—romantic tension, undeniable chemistry, a fiery love-hate dynamic between you and hanbin. the absurdity of it all made your stomach twist.

"as you can see," one of the representatives began, adjusting his glasses, "the media has already taken your argument and spun it into something much bigger. public interest in your interactions has skyrocketed, and engagement numbers are through the roof."

"we all know the power of a good story," another representative added. "and right now, the story people want is you two."

you scoffed, unable to help yourself. "you mean they want a lie."

"they want a fantasy," the representative corrected smoothly. "and we’re here to sell it."

hanbin hummed in amusement. "so, what’s the plan? hold hands, go on coffee dates, stare into each other’s eyes like we’re in a drama?"

"precisely," the representative replied without hesitation. "but there’s more."

another slide clicked onto the screen, revealing official concept art for written in the stars. but something was different. something was very, very different.

frowning, you leaned forward. "wait. this isn’t the same script."

hanbin’s smirk finally faded as he studied the images. "yeah, this is completely different."

"the script has been revised," the representative admitted. "due to the overwhelming attention your chemistry has received, the directors, producers, and scriptwriters made the decision to add a love interest into the movie."

head snapping up, you barely managed to keep the frustration out of your voice. "excuse me?"

"originally, written in the stars was a story about a child’s journey to becoming the heir to their kingdom," the representative explained. "but now, hanbin’s character will be the heir to a fallen kingdom, and you—" they gestured to you, "—will be the cunning princess of his enemy nation."

hanbin let out a low whistle. "so they rewrote an entire movie because of us?"

"this is why the fake dating stunt is necessary," the representative continued. "if audiences believe in your relationship off-screen, it’ll translate into even greater success on-screen."

fingers curling into a fist, you bit out, "but this whole situation is based on a misunderstanding! it wasn’t romantic tension, it was a heated argument!"

hanbin turned to you with a slow grin. "and yet, here we are."

ignoring him, you focused on the contract placed in front of you. scanning the details quickly, your stomach dropped. the fake dating arrangement would last from now until the end of the movie’s promotion. interviews, social media interactions, public outings—every aspect of the relationship would be meticulously crafted for maximum publicity.

this was insane.

but you had no choice.

hanbin didn’t hesitate. with a flourish, he picked up a pen and signed his contract first, flashing you a look of triumph.

"your turn," he murmured.

letting out a final deep breath, you grabbed the pen and signed your name at the bottom of the page.

"excellent," the representative said, clearly pleased. "this will be the start of something huge."

hanbin’s manager clapped his hands together. "now, to make it official, let’s have you two shake on it."

stomach twisting, your gaze met hanbin’s, and—of course—his eyes were glinting with amusement as he extended his hand. "come on, princess. let’s seal the deal."

your fingers curled at the nickname, but with all eyes on you, there was no way out. reluctantly, you reached out, grasping his hand. his palm was warm against yours, his grip steady, firm.

for a moment—too long a moment—the air felt too thick, too charged.

then, finally, you pulled away, rubbing your hand against your thigh as if to rid yourself of his touch.

hanbin smirked. "pleasure doing business with you."

"don’t talk to me," you muttered, and beside you, hyojoo barely suppressed a laugh.

it was official.

the contract was signed.

the deal was sealed.

your life was officially a mess.

the next morning arrived too soon, bringing with it the first official date of your fake relationship with hanbin. as you approached the quaint café nestled in the heart of the bustling city, you could already see the crowd gathered outside. a sea of flashing lights, paparazzi, journalists, and eager fans swarmed the sidewalk, all jostling for a chance to capture a moment between the two of you. the low hum of their excited chatter blended with the sharp clicking of cameras, making your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"well, well, look who decided to show up," hanbin’s familiar voice drawled beside you, his signature smirk in full effect. his dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he adjusted his coat, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, radiating an air of ease despite the absolute chaos surrounding you both.

"unfortunately," you muttered under your breath, keeping your expression neutral as you straightened your posture. "let’s just get this over with."

"aw, come on, princess. at least pretend to enjoy my company," he teased, leaning in slightly. the move was subtle, but the cameras picked up on it instantly, the intensity of the flashing lights increasing as reporters shouted even louder.

before you could respond with a sharp retort, you felt it—his hand, warm and steady, slipping around your waist. your breath hitched, body tensing instinctively at the unexpected contact. hanbin, of course, noticed immediately.

"relax," he murmured, his voice just low enough for only you to hear. "you’re acting like i’m about to bite."

"maybe i’m just not used to people invading my personal space," you shot back through clenched teeth, forcing a picture-perfect smile for the cameras. your mind was already spinning with the inevitable headlines this moment would spark.

as expected, the press wasted no time firing off their questions.

"hanbin, y/n! how long have you two been dating?"

"y/n, did you fall for him on set?"

"hanbin, what’s your favorite thing about y/n?"

neither of you answered, keeping to the agency’s carefully planned strategy of maintaining an air of mystery. instead, you allowed the photographers to capture their shots—every tilt of your head, every shift of hanbin’s possessive hold meticulously documented for the public eye. but something felt different. though you knew this was just a carefully orchestrated act, your pulse refused to settle, especially as hanbin’s fingers lingered a little longer than necessary against your waist.

"let’s get inside before you combust from overthinking," hanbin murmured, his breath warm against your ear before he gently guided you toward the entrance.

as soon as you stepped inside, the chaotic noise from outside was muffled, replaced by the soft murmur of conversation, the clinking of silverware against plates, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. a waiter, quick to recognize you both, led you to a private booth toward the back of the cafe, ensuring that prying eyes remained at a distance. hanbin slid in beside you without hesitation, and to your dismay, his hand remained on your waist even after you were seated.

"you can let go now," you muttered, shifting slightly away from him.

"but then we wouldn’t look like a couple," he countered smoothly. "this is a date, remember?"

rolling your eyes, you reached for the menu. "whatever. let’s just order."

hanbin, of course, didn’t move an inch. instead, he leaned in closer, his chin nearly brushing against your shoulder as he pretended to study the menu alongside you.

"can you even see the menu clearly?" he teased, voice laced with amusement. "i mean, considering all that complaining about the camera flashes."

your grip on the menu tightened. "i swear to god, hanbin, if we weren’t in public, i’d smack you with this menu."

he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "but we are in public, so you can’t."

before you could retort, a waiter approached, pen poised over a notepad. "good morning! what can i get for you both?"

"i’ll have the american breakfast with scrambled eggs and extra bacon," you said, your tone still tinged with irritation. "and an iced coffee, light on the sugar."

hanbin hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against the table. "i’ll have the same," he said, then added with a teasing grin, "but make my coffee extra sweet—unlike my dear girlfriend here."

you groaned, rubbing your temples. "i swear, this is going to be the longest few months of my life."

once the waiter had left, hanbin leaned back against the booth, his expression turning slightly more serious. "so," he said, fingers absentmindedly drumming against the table, "that was quite the reception outside. looks like we’re officially the hottest new couple in the industry."

"don’t remind me," you muttered. "it’s ridiculous how fast the media spun this narrative."

"it’s the game," he said simply, shrugging. "we just have to play along. besides, it’s not all bad. you get more exposure, more roles. the benefits outweigh the annoyance."

you gave him a sidelong glance. "you say that like you don’t mind being in a fake relationship."

"i don’t," he admitted with a lazy smirk. "if anything, it’s entertaining."

"of course you’d find this amusing," you scoffed. "you’re thriving off my suffering."

"not suffering," he corrected. "just… mild inconvenience."

before you could argue, the food arrived, providing a much-needed distraction. as you dug into your meal, the conversation drifted toward the upcoming film schedule. tomorrow would mark the first day of shooting for written in the stars, and the reality of that hit you harder than you expected.

"it’s going to be weird," you admitted, absently pushing your eggs around your plate. "filming a romance scene with you after… everything."

hanbin arched an eyebrow. "everything? you mean our totally romantic, completely unscripted argument that launched this entire fiasco?"

you shot him a look. "you know what i mean."

he chewed on a piece of bacon before replying, "you’ll be fine. you’re a professional, remember? just don’t fall for me for real."

that earned him a swift kick under the table.

"ow!" he hissed, wincing. "i was kidding! jeez, you’re violent."

"just reminding you of your place," you said sweetly, taking a sip of your coffee.

he sighed dramatically. "see? this is why i called you mean earlier."

"no shit, you have your hand on my waist, idiot."

hanbin feigned offense. "that’s mean, you shouldn’t be calling your boyfriend an idiot."

rolling your eyes, you stabbed at your food with your fork. "how am i going to survive the next few months?"

hanbin grinned. "by falling for my irresistible charm, obviously."

you didn’t dignify that with a response.

instead, you stared down at your plate, mind already drifting to tomorrow’s filming schedule. one thing was certain—this was just the beginning of a very, very long ride.

the morning air was crisp as you made your way onto the set of written in the stars. it was the first day of filming, and even though you had spent years preparing for moments like this, there was an unfamiliar nervous energy in the pit of your stomach. maybe it was the weight of the role, the sudden shift in the script, or the fact that hanbin would be there—smirking, teasing, and generally making your life more difficult than necessary.

walking beside you, hyojoo scrolled through her phone, oblivious to your internal struggle. or at least, that’s what you thought until she casually said, “so, how was your date with hanbin yesterday?”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. “i wouldn’t call it a date. it was staged. a publicity stunt. a nightmare.”

“a nightmare where his hand was on your waist the whole time?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

you shot her a glare. “yes, and it was awful. he’s so full of himself, hyojoo. always smirking, always teasing. he knows exactly how to get under my skin.”

“uh-huh.” she nodded slowly, clearly enjoying this conversation far too much. “but did it make your heart race?”

your steps faltered for half a second, and you hated that she noticed. “no. absolutely not.”

she grinned knowingly. “liar.”

“i'm not lying. my heart raced because i’m not used to being touched like that, okay? it’s a natural reaction. it has nothing to do with him.”

hyojoo gasped dramatically. “so if I touch your waist, will you react the same way?”

before you could stop her, she wrapped her arms around your waist as you walked, hugging you tightly.

“yah! get off me!” you whined, squirming as you tried to push her away. “hyojoo, i swear—”

“but i just wanna see if your heart races~” she sang, tightening her grip.

you groaned loudly, trying to peel her arms off. “you’re impossible.”

laughing, she finally let go, stepping away but keeping that smug grin on her face. “see? no big deal.”

you rolled your eyes and continued toward your trailer, hyojoo following beside you.

inside, the glam team was already waiting. the moment you sat down, they got to work. the makeup artist, a woman named jisoo, studied your face for a moment before pulling out her brushes.

“we’re going for a monochromatic look today,” she said, blending soft hues onto your eyelids. “everything in the same shade range—eyes, lips, cheeks. it’ll look seamless on camera.”

hyojoo sat on the couch nearby, watching the process unfold. “she doesn’t need makeup to be beautiful, but i’m excited to see the final look.”

you smirked slightly. “flatter me more, why don’t you?”

“just stating the facts.”

as jisoo worked, you could see the transformation happening in the mirror. the soft tones blended effortlessly, creating an ethereal yet powerful look. when she reached for the eyeliner, she hesitated for a moment before nodding to herself.

“i think we need a wing,” she decided. “a sharp one.”

a few minutes later, you had the perfect winged eyeliner that made your gaze even more striking. hyojoo gasped dramatically.

“oh, you look so good. like, stupidly good,” she said, eyes wide with appreciation. “if hanbin doesn’t react when he sees you, he’s legally blind.”

“please.” you scoffed. “he’s too in love with himself to notice anyone else.”

jisoo stepped back, admiring her work. “perfect. now for the hair.”

the hairstylist, minji, pulled your hair into a structured yet effortless messy bun. it framed your face beautifully, adding to the regal aura you were meant to exude.

“wow,” hyojoo whispered. “you’re actually shin mina.”

you frowned. “i don’t even know shin mina. this character wasn’t in the original script, remember?”

hyojoo laughed. “true, but if the directors imagined her, she’d look exactly like you.”

you stared at your reflection, taking in the full effect. the monochromatic makeup, the elegantly messy bun, the subtle yet powerful gaze.

“shin mina,” you repeated under your breath. “who is she supposed to be, anyway?”

hyojoo shrugged. “not much information, honestly. but from what i do know, she’s cunning, intelligent, and a total badass.”

you smirked. “well, at least they cast the right person.”

with your transformation complete, the final step was wardrobe. the costume designers helped you into the battle princess gown—an intricate piece adorned with embroidery and a flowing cape that gave it a regal yet formidable aura. when you stepped out of the dressing room, hyojoo let out another gasp.

“you have to be joking.”

you adjusted the fabric around your waist. “what?”

“you look like you just walked straight out of an epic fantasy novel. like… this is it. this is the look.”

you turned to the mirror and took it all in. the dress exuded power, the makeup enhanced every sharp feature, and the hair completed the ensemble.

“well,” you said with a small smile, “i guess it’s time to bring shin mina to life.”

taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the trailer and onto the set, preparing yourself for the day ahead. this was it—the first day of filming. the beginning of something new. and with hanbin involved, you already knew it was going to be anything but ordinary.

on set, the battlefield scene was already in motion. hanbin, clad in tattered yet regal armour, fought fiercely among a horde of actors playing soldiers. swords clashed, battle cries filled the air, and the director’s voice rang out, guiding the action. you watched as hanbin moved effortlessly, his body twisting and dodging with precision. even through the choreographed fight sequences, he made it look natural—almost too natural.

then came the turning point. outnumbered, hanbin’s character was eventually overpowered. a soldier struck him down, forcing him to his knees. two more actors seized him, wrenching his arms behind his back as he struggled. his breath came in ragged gasps, and then, with a rough yank, he was pulled to his feet.

“take him to the kingdom!” one of the soldiers barked.

hanbin gritted his teeth but didn’t resist. his fate was sealed.

transitioning to the dungeon set, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. the stone walls were damp, torches flickered, and the heavy iron bars cast long shadows. hanbin was thrown inside unceremoniously, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud. he groaned in pain, curling slightly as he caught his breath.

“the princess is coming!” a guard announced, and the room fell silent.

you stepped into the dimly lit dungeon, the soft clinking of your boots echoing off the walls. hanbin was on the floor, leaning onto his forearm, his expression twisting in barely concealed disdain as he looked up at you. even in pain, he had the audacity to glare.

“welcome to my kingdom,” you greeted smoothly, your tone unreadable.

hanbin scoffed. “i’d rather be anywhere else.”

“oh, don’t be so dramatic,” you said, tilting your head. “i could be cruel, you know. but i won’t.”

he stilled, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied you.

“instead,” you continued, stepping closer, “i’m offering you a choice. marry me, and our lands will unite. refuse, and you will rot in this dungeon.”

hanbin’s jaw tightened. “you expect me to marry the enemy?”

“no,” you mused. “i expect you to survive.”

for a moment, there was only silence. your gaze burned into his, unyielding, and his breath was uneven, as if something within him was warring against itself. then, finally, he exhaled sharply.

“fine,” he spat. “i’ll do it.”

“good,” you murmured, lips curving into the faintest smirk.

“cut!” the director called, breaking the moment instantly.

the set was immediately thrown into a frenzy, crew members running around, adjusting lights, preparing for the next take. you relaxed your posture, stepping back from hanbin, who was still sitting on the dungeon floor.

“you okay?” you asked, eyeing the spot where he had hit the ground. “that looked like it hurt.”

hanbin rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. “i’m fine. makes the acting look more real, anyway.”

“well, as long as you’re not actually breaking anything,” you said, crossing your arms.

he grinned. “aww, you’re worried about me.”

“shut up.”

hanbin chuckled before standing up fully, dusting off his costume. “you know,” he mused, “that whole princess act suits you. you should consider ruling a kingdom in real life.”

“if it means ruling over idiots like you, i’ll pass.”

“harsh,” he teased. “but i kinda like it.”

you huffed, shaking your head. “you are insufferable.”

“and yet, you can’t seem to escape me,” he smirked.

flustered, but still annoyed, you groaned and turned on your heel, making a beeline out of the dungeon set. hanbin’s amused laughter followed behind you, his voice laced with pure entertainment.

“see you at the next scene, princess.”

the restaurant was elegant, the kind of place where every glass gleamed under the soft golden lights and the faint hum of classical music filled the air. the scent of freshly baked bread and seared meat lingered, making your stomach tighten in anticipation. despite the luxury, you couldn't fully relax. not with hanbin’s hand resting on your waist as he led you inside.

it had become a pattern by now—his lingering touch, the way he guided you as if you were truly his. the heat of his palm against your waist was impossible to ignore, but you tried your best to maintain your composure. behind you, hyojoo and hanbin’s manager followed a little awkwardly. well, at least hanbin’s manager did. hyojoo, on the other hand, looked like she was having the time of her life watching you squirm under hanbin’s casual affection.

as you reached your reserved table, hanbin smoothly pulled out your chair for you before taking the seat beside you. hyojoo and hanbin’s manager sat across from you two, their seating arrangement mirroring yours. as soon as you settled in, hyojoo wasted no time in sending you a knowing smirk.

“comfortable?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

you shot her a death glare. “oh, absolutely.”

hanbin leaned slightly toward you, peering at the menu in your hands before he smirked. “don’t forget to pick something you’ll actually eat this time. we wouldn’t want another tragic salad incident.”

you exhaled sharply, already feeling the irritation bubble inside you. “that was one small incident on set yesterday.”

“and yet, it lives in my memory forever,” he said with mock solemnity. “a tale of wasted greens and regret.”

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered under your breath, turning your attention back to the menu.

but hanbin wasn’t done. “you know, being angry all the time isn’t a great look for a loving girlfriend.”

hyojoo cleared her throat, and you already knew what was coming. “he has a point. you two need to look convincing. we are in public, after all.”

her words were professional, but the glint in her eyes told you otherwise. she was enjoying this way too much.

hanbin hummed in agreement, propping his elbow on the table as he rested his chin on his hand. “exactly. my lovely girlfriend should be gazing at me adoringly right about now.”

you rolled your eyes so hard you were sure they could have disappeared into another dimension. “you are delusional.”

hanbin let out a low chuckle before nudging your leg under the table. “and yet, you haven’t denied the ‘lovely girlfriend’ part.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, a waiter approached your table, effectively cutting off your response.

“good afternoon,” the waiter greeted with a polite smile. “are you ready to order?”

you were grateful for the distraction and quickly placed your order, listing off your choices with precision. hanbin followed right after, taking his time as he made his selection. once he was done, the waiter turned to hyojoo and hanbin’s manager.

“and you two?”

hyojoo smiled. “oh, we’re just the managers.”

you barely held back a laugh as the waiter hesitated before nodding and taking their orders as well.

after the waiter left, hanbin’s manager leaned back in his chair and sighed dramatically. “agents never get recognition these days.”

the table erupted into laughter, even you, as the light hearted joke momentarily eased the tension.

as the laughter died down, hanbin’s manager turned his attention to hanbin. “so, how’s filming going? yesterday was the first big scene, right?”

hanbin nodded, leaning back comfortably. “yeah, we started with the battlefield scene and then moved into the dungeon scene. it’s going well so far, considering it’s still the early stages.”

hyojoo turned to you, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “and you? how are you feeling about everything?”

you took a sip of water, thinking for a moment. “it’s… intense. the script changes still throw me off a bit, but the production team knows what they’re doing. the dungeon scene especially was interesting.”

hanbin smirked. “interesting, huh? you mean the part where i got thrown into the dungeon?”

you smirked back. “that was my favourite part.”

hanbin clutched his chest dramatically. “you wound me, princess.”

hyojoo smirked, watching your dynamic with open amusement. “well, the chemistry is working, at least.”

hanbin’s manager nodded in agreement. “i have to admit, the media is loving it. the rumours about you two are spreading like wildfire. people are convinced you’re actually together.”

“which we’re not,” you pointed out quickly, folding your arms.

hanbin leaned in with an exaggerated pout. “but what if i wanted to be?”

“then i’d tell you to wake up,” you shot back, making hyojoo and his manager chuckle.

hanbin shook his head with a grin. “so cold.”

just then, the waiter returned with your drinks, placing them down one by one before disappearing back into the kitchen. you took a sip of your iced tea, letting the coolness soothe your irritation.

“honestly, though,” hanbin said after a beat, “i think the production team really did well with casting. our characters might not have been in the original script, but the tension makes for a good story.”

“you mean you enjoy making me mad?” you asked flatly.

he grinned. “immensely.”

hyojoo shook her head. “well, keep it up. it’s working.”

hanbin’s manager checked his phone before glancing up. “after lunch, you guys have script rehearsals, right?”

you nodded. “yeah. it’s the first official dialogue scene between our characters after the marriage agreement.”

hanbin wiggled his eyebrows. “can’t wait to be your husband, princess.”

hyojoo nearly choked on her drink, and you kicked him under the table.

“ow!” hanbin winced but laughed, rubbing his shin. “abusive wife already?”

“we’re not married!”

“yet.”

hyojoo snorted, and even hanbin’s manager looked amused. you groaned, placing your head in your hands. this was going to be a long lunch.

the rehearsal room was quiet, save for the faint sound of your own voice as you practiced in front of the mirror. your reflection stared back at you, brows furrowed in concentration as you recited shin mina’s lines under your breath, adjusting your tone, your expression, perfecting every subtle movement. you weren’t just memorizing words—you were stepping into character, feeling her emotions, embodying her presence.

hanbin stood in the distance, watching.

he had only come into the room a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t announced his presence yet. instead, he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he observed you. there was something fascinating about the way you lost yourself in your work, completely unaware of his gaze. your focus was unwavering, your movements meticulous, like you weren’t just rehearsing—you were already her.

it was frustratingly impressive.

his smirk deepened as he tilted his head slightly, taking in the sight of you. no matter how much you insisted you couldn’t stand him, you were dedicated to this movie, to this role, to making it as perfect as possible. he respected that. maybe more than he wanted to admit.

but that didn’t mean he was going to pass up an opportunity to tease you.

“are you practicing how to glare at me properly? because if so, you’ve already perfected it,” hanbin’s voice cut through the silence.

you startled, whipping around so fast you nearly knocked over the makeup bag on the table. your heart pounded in your chest, half from surprise and half from irritation when you saw his signature smirk in full force.

“what the hell, hanbin?” you huffed, pressing a hand to your chest. “don’t sneak up on people like that.”

he shrugged, strolling toward you with the same effortless confidence he always carried. “i wasn’t sneaking. you were just too absorbed in your own reflection to notice me.”

you scowled. “i was rehearsing.”

“oh, i know. i watched for a while,” he mused, stopping just a step behind you. “you really take this seriously, huh?”

“of course i do. unlike some people, i actually care about the work.”

hanbin chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “that’s a bit mean, don’t you think? what if i told you watching you work so hard was kind of... charming?”

your breath hitched for just a second, but you masked it with a glare. “if you’re going to distract me, at least be useful. otherwise, go away.”

“harsh,” he muttered, but his smirk didn’t waver. instead, his eyes flickered to the mirror in front of you. “fixing your hair again? you know you don’t have to try so hard. you already look good.”

“flattery won’t get you anywhere, hanbin.”

“you sure about that?” he teased, watching as you touched up your lipstick, carefully blotting it with a tissue.

“yes,” you said flatly, setting the tissue down. “now, if you don’t mind, i’d like to finish rehearsing.”

he didn’t move. instead, he placed a hand on your waist, his usual spot, and grinned at your reflection. “you know what we should do?”

“what?”

“take a photo together. for social media.”

“why?”

hanbin sighed dramatically. “you really have no sense of marketing, do you? we’re supposed to be in a fake relationship, remember? we should at least look like we enjoy spending time together.”

hanbin noticed your reluctance and took the lead. “come on,” he said, more assertively this time. “it’s just a picture. i promise i won’t bite.”

“you’re annoying,” you grumbled, pulling out your phone anyway.

hanbin grinned. “and yet, here we are.”

“look at the camera in the mirror.”

he obeyed, tilting his head slightly with his signature smirk, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. you sighed through your nose but put on a small smile, making sure it looked natural before taking the picture.

you snapped a few more, just in case, before lowering the phone and scrolling through them. hanbin leaned over your shoulder, looking at the screen as well.

“which one’s the best?” he asked.

you both paused.

coincidentally, your fingers hovered over the same photo—one where you looked effortlessly natural, and he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself beside you.

hanbin smirked, clearly satisfied. “see? we make a good team.”

“don’t push it.”

hanbin chuckled, watching as you finally hit post, pairing the image with a soft, romantic song.

“cute,” he commented.

“don’t make me regret this.”

“too late.”

the morning air buzzed with chatter as you stood among the crew, laughing and engaging in gossip about the latest entertainment news. the makeup artists, costume designers, and even the lighting technicians all had something to say about the newest scandal, the latest trending drama, and, of course, the unexpected but widely beloved pairing of you and hanbin.

"you two look so cute together," one of the makeup artists gushed, her hands clasped together in admiration. "honestly, the chemistry is just unreal. i swear, if i didn't know better, i'd think you were really in love."

another crew member nodded in agreement. "yeah, the pictures you posted yesterday? those went viral. everyone is shipping you guys."

"it’s crazy," you laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "but thank you. we’re very happy with one another."

saying it felt easier than it should have. the crew all beamed at your response, completely convinced, before the conversation shifted to another topic. you let yourself stay a few minutes longer before politely excusing yourself, the warmth of their words still lingering in your thoughts.

as you walked away, the echoes of their compliments about you and hanbin replayed in your mind. the idea of people seeing you as an actual couple was still strange. fake dating was one thing, but seeing how naturally everyone believed in the illusion made your stomach twist slightly. shaking off the thought, you scanned the set until your eyes landed on the director.

approaching him, you spoke up. "do you have any feedback for me today?"

he looked up with a small smile, handing you a few pages of handwritten notes. "of course. you’re doing really well, by the way. your performance is exactly what we envisioned for shin mina."

"thank you," you murmured, eyes scanning the pages.

as you read through the notes, something quickly stood out to you—hanbin’s name was mentioned more times than you expected. in fact, a significant portion of the director’s comments revolved around your interactions with him, your on-screen chemistry, the way your characters played off one another. it wasn’t a surprise, necessarily, since your roles were intertwined, but seeing it written out so explicitly made you pause.

"a lot of this is about me and hanbin," you noted, glancing up at the director.

he nodded. "that’s because your dynamic is the heart of the film. every scene between the two of you carries so much weight. it’s essential that your chemistry feels completely natural and effortless."

humming in understanding, you flipped through the remaining notes. wrapping up your conversation with the director, you handed the papers back with a quick "thank you" before turning on your heel and scanning the set for hanbin.

he wasn’t hard to find. leaning casually against a prop pillar, he was chatting with a few of the other actors, his signature smirk on full display. taking a deep breath, you made your way toward him.

"we need to talk," you announced as you stopped in front of him.

hanbin turned his attention to you, grinning. "should i be worried?"

"it’s about the notes," you said, ignoring his teasing tone.

he raised a brow. "ah, let me guess. they’re all about how amazing i am?"

rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. "more like how much work we need to put into making our scenes feel as authentic as possible."

hanbin chuckled. "so basically, they love us together. i knew it."

his smirk was as infuriating as ever, but today, you found yourself simply shaking your head instead of snapping at him. maybe you were finally adjusting to his antics, or maybe you were just in a good mood.

"whatever," you brushed off. "we should get ready. we need to let the director know we’re good to go."

as you adjusted your costume and quickly fixed your hair, hanbin watched you with an amused expression.

"you know," he mused, "today’s a special day."

archiving a brow, you gave him a side glance. "and why is that?"

his smirk widened. "because today, i officially become your husband."

scoffing, you shook your head in disbelief before smacking his shoulder lightly. he winced, rubbing the spot dramatically.

"ow," he complained. "i need to start preparing myself for an abusive marriage."

"that’s not a healthy relationship," you retorted.

he shrugged. "maybe, but it’ll be entertaining."

"you’re impossible."

before he could reply, the crew signalled that the set was ready. taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to the stage, feeling hanbin follow closely behind.

just another day of filming. just another scene where you had to pretend to be in love with the man who never failed to push your buttons.

only today, he was right. today was different.

because today, he became your husband—at least on screen.

the next day, you found yourself walking alongside hyojoo through the sleek hallways of your agency, the faint hum of office chatter and clicking keyboards surrounding you. the polished floors reflected the overhead lights, and the air smelled faintly of fresh coffee and paper. you glanced at hyojoo, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

"so, what’s this meeting about?" you asked, your tone tinged with mild suspicion.

hyojoo waved a dismissive hand. "nothing to stress over. just some business talk, probably about publicity."

"ugh, more publicity? aren’t we already doing enough?" you sighed.

she chuckled. "clearly not. the public wants more."

pushing open the heavy glass doors to the conference room, you immediately spotted hanbin lounging comfortably in a chair, his agent seated beside him. the moment his eyes landed on you, he shot you his signature smirk, leaning back slightly as if he had been expecting you to arrive any moment now.

"well, if it isn’t my favourite pretend girlfriend," he drawled, his smirk deepening. "miss me?"

rolling your eyes, you walked past him to take a seat beside hyojoo. "in your dreams."

he chuckled, clearly amused by your response, but before he could get another word in, one of the agency representatives cleared their throat, drawing everyone's attention to the front of the room.

"thank you all for coming today," the representative began, shuffling a stack of papers. "we called this meeting to discuss the overwhelming public response to your relationship. the media and fans are absolutely captivated. they love your dynamic—the way you two interact, the playful banter, the chemistry."

hanbin leaned in slightly, shooting you a sideways glance. "hear that? they love our chemistry. you can’t deny it now."

"i’ll deny it all i want," you muttered, crossing your arms.

ignoring your exchange, the representative continued. "with the growing interest in your relationship, we believe it would be beneficial to provide more content to the public. after all, the instagram story you posted the other day gained tremendous traction. fans are still talking about it."

hanbin grinned, nudging your elbow. "see? my idea was brilliant."

"your idea?" you scoffed. "i’m the one who actually took the picture and posted it."

"but who convinced you?" he shot back, his grin never faltering.

before you could respond, another representative jumped in. "regardless of whose idea it was, the fact remains that people want more."

hyojoo nodded in agreement. "it’s true. strategically speaking, this is a great opportunity to further boost your popularity."

"so what exactly are you suggesting?" you asked, exhaling deeply.

"content," the representative stated simply. "more candid moments, more social media presence—perhaps even some planned public outings that allow for natural interactions to be captured."

hanbin chuckled. "so basically, they want to see more of us bickering."

"playful banter," the representative corrected. "it’s charming and refreshing."

crossing your arms, you glanced at hanbin. "well, if they love it so much, maybe you should start paying me extra for putting up with you."

hanbin laughed. "you love it."

ignoring him, you turned your attention back to the representatives. "actually, vlogging has been really popular these days. i recently set up a whole video station at home—computer, microphone, camera, studio lights, everything."

instantly, the representatives perked up, nodding eagerly. "that’s a brilliant idea. it shows you’re in touch with current trends. fans would absolutely love behind-the-scenes content of you two."

hanbin turned to you, grinning. "well then, i guess i’m coming over tomorrow."

"you’re just inviting yourself over now?" you arched a brow.

he shrugged. "of course. you need me there for the content, don’t you?"

sighing dramatically, you leaned back in your chair. "fine. but at least try to look good for the camera."

hanbin placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "please. i always look good."

"right," you said flatly. "just don’t stink up my house."

he gasped playfully. "excuse you, i always smell amazing. you wanna smell me and find out?"

scoffing loudly, you made a face. "absolutely not. piss off."

laughter erupted around the room, even from the usually serious representatives. hanbin looked thoroughly pleased with himself, while you just shook your head, already dreading whatever chaos would ensue tomorrow.

"alright, then. it’s settled," the representative concluded. "we’ll expect some engaging content from you two soon."

hanbin turned to you with a grin. "hope you’re ready for a fun day tomorrow."

sighing, you stood up from your chair. "oh, i can hardly wait."

hanbin winked. "i knew you couldn’t resist me."

hyojoo tugged your arm, pulling you towards the door before you could come up with a sharp retort. as you exited the conference room, you couldn’t help but shake your head, already mentally preparing yourself for what was sure to be an eventful day.

and despite your protests, despite your exasperation with hanbin’s endless teasing, you couldn’t deny the tiniest hint of excitement bubbling in your chest.

the next morning, you were already camera-ready, your outfit perfectly styled and your face glowing under the soft morning light filtering through your windows. your morning routine had gone smoothly—you’d woken up early, taken a refreshing shower, done your skincare, and applied just the right amount of makeup to look effortless yet flawless. your bungalow was spotless after a thorough clean-up, ensuring no clutter would be visible in the background of the video. even the cushions on your couch were perfectly fluffed, and a subtle vanilla-scented candle burned in the corner, filling the space with a warm, inviting aroma.

as you adjusted your camera setup, making sure the lighting hit at just the right angle, a knock on the door echoed through your home. you sighed, already anticipating the teasing that was about to come. when you opened the door, hanbin stood there, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit that made it obvious he had put in effort. his dark jeans and white t-shirt fit him perfectly, and his hair looked tousled in that effortless way that somehow always suited him. his usual smirk was present as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes scanning your house before flicking back to you.

"cute bungalow," he commented, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

"thanks," you said, stepping aside, arms crossed as you watched him look around.

he glanced around before his smirk widened. "the one living in the bungalow is cute too."

rolling your eyes, you groaned. "piss off."

hanbin chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked further in. "can't. we have to make some quality content for the public, remember?"

you sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, instead shutting the door behind him. as he wandered deeper into your house, his gaze landed on a shelf lined with old photo frames. he stepped closer, examining them with interest before picking one up. it was a baby picture of you, round-cheeked and beaming at the camera, your tiny hands gripping the sides of a birthday cake that was much too big for you.

"these are cute," he mused, turning the frame slightly. "who knew you used to be so tiny?"

"thanks," you replied, crossing your arms as you watched him.

hanbin turned to you with an exaggerated thoughtful expression. "do you think i was a cute baby?"

"i don’t know, i’ve never seen any of your baby pictures."

he hummed, setting the frame back in its place before straightening up. "fair enough. do i at least look handsome now?"

you blinked at him, taking a moment to study his face. his hair was styled effortlessly, his outfit perfectly tailored to his frame, and his skin looked unfairly flawless. but instead of feeding into his ego, you simply said, "you look camera-ready."

hanbin placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "ouch. i wish my girlfriend actually complimented me."

scoffing, you reached out and slapped his shoulder, making him wince dramatically. "piss off, hanbin."

he laughed, shaking his head before you motioned for him to follow you to your room. as you led him down the hall, he glanced around curiously before his eyes landed on your recording setup. his expression shifted from playful to genuinely impressed.

"whoa," he said, stepping closer. "this looks really professional. you weren’t kidding when you said you had everything set up."

you watched as he examined your camera, microphone, and lighting setup, his fingers lightly adjusting a dial on the mic.

"of course," you replied. "i don’t do things halfway."

he grinned at you. "clearly."

you adjusted the camera’s position, making sure the frame was set up perfectly before glancing at hanbin. "ready?"

he nodded. "let's do it."

you pressed record and immediately brightened, your expression shifting into your public-friendly smile. "hey everyone! welcome back to my channel. today, i have a very special guest with me."

hanbin, standing beside you, placed a hand on your waist as he grinned at the camera. "your favourite boyfriend, of course."

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead maintaining your smile. "we're doing a q&a today, answering all the burning questions you guys have been sending in. and trust me, there were a lot."

hanbin chuckled. "people are really nosy, huh?"

"they're just curious about our love story," you teased, before grabbing your phone to read the first question. "alright, first question: how did you two meet?"

hanbin glanced at you before smirking at the camera. "ah, the fated encounter. our eyes met across a crowded room, time slowed, and we knew in that moment—"

"stop being dramatic," you interrupted, making him laugh. "we met during casting for 'written in the stars.' simple as that."

he nodded. "yeah, but if you ask me, she fell for me immediately."

you shot him a deadpan look. "next question."

you scrolled down and read the next one aloud. "do you two fight often?"

hanbin smirked. "define 'fight.'"

you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "bickering. arguments. me wanting to strangle you at least twice a day."

he laughed. "then yeah, all the time. but that’s what makes us entertaining, isn’t it?"

shaking your head, you moved on to the next question. "what can we expect from the upcoming movie?"

hanbin adopted a more serious expression. "honestly, i think people are going to love it. the story is compelling, the cinematography is stunning, and of course, our performances are top-tier."

"agreed," you said. "and i think fans are really going to enjoy the dynamic between our characters."

as you continued answering questions, the atmosphere remained light-hearted, filled with teasing remarks from hanbin and your playful eye rolls in response. when the q&a finally wrapped up, you stopped the recording and leaned back in your chair, exhaling.

"that went well," hanbin remarked.

"surprisingly," you admitted as you pulled the memory card from the camera and slotted it into your computer. you began editing immediately, cutting out unnecessary parts and adjusting the audio.

hanbin watched you work for a moment before speaking. "you're really dedicated to this, huh?"

you nodded, not looking away from the screen. "of course. content creation takes effort."

"it's kinda cool seeing you in work mode."

you glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "is that an actual compliment? from hanbin?"

he smirked. "don't get used to it."

rolling your eyes, you continued editing. it took a while, but eventually, the video was ready. you uploaded it, selecting a catchy title and an engaging thumbnail before posting it to your channel.

you leaned back, stretching your arms. "done."

hanbin checked his phone, already seeing notifications popping up. "people are gonna eat this up."

you hummed in agreement. "let’s just hope they enjoy it."

he grinned. "they will. after all, we make a great team."

for once, you didn’t argue. instead, you simply smirked and leaned back in your chair, already anticipating the reaction the video would get.

SMUT AHEAD

with the silence now, hanbin took the opportunity to pull you up from your chair flush against him, one hand sliding down to grope your ass possessively.

"now, where were we before the video, princess?"

you gasp softly, squirming in his hold, but don't pull away. "hanbin, stop it. we're not going to do anything like that on camera." you hiss, even as your body betrays you, reacting to his touch.

hanbin just smirks, undeterred. "you're right, princess. let's take this somewhere more private, hmm?"

with that, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you towards the living room as he pulls the bedroom door shut behind him. he tosses you onto the couch, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"hanbin," you warn, even as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscular form looming above you. "i mean it. no funny business."

he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth possessively. "funny business is my specialty," he murmurs against your lips. "but don't worry, princess. i promise i'll make it feel so good, you'll be begging for more."

you know you should push him away, but your body is already melting under his touch, craving more of his intense focus and desire. you tangle your fingers in his dark hair, giving it a sharp tug, and are rewarded with a low, appreciative moan from hanbin.

"fuck, i love it when you do that," he groans, grinding his hips against yours, letting you feel the sizeable bulge rapidly forming in his jeans.

you bite your lip to stifle a moan, your core clenching with want. you know you should put a stop to this, but the way he's touching you, the hunger in his eyes... you can't help but crave more.

hanbin seems to sense your hesitation, his hand sliding under your shirt to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple through the thin lace of your bra. "tell me you don't want this, princess," he challenges, his voice a low rumble. "tell me you don't want me to strip you bare and worship every inch of your gorgeous body until you're trembling and begging for my cock."

you swallow thickly, trying to find the words to refuse him, but all you can manage is a breathless, "hanbin..."

he smirks, taking your silence as the consent it is. "that's what i thought, princess. now, let me show you what a real man can do."

with that, he tugs your shirt off over your head and tosses it aside, leaving you in your bra as he takes in the sight of your exposed skin with blatant appreciation. "fuck, you're stunning," he breathes, before ducking his head down to press open-mouthed kisses along the swell of your breasts. "i'm going to make you feel so good, you won't be able to think of anything else."

you know you should put a stop to this, should maintain some semblance of control, but the way he's touching you, the promise of pleasure in his eyes... you can't bring yourself to refuse him. you tangle your fingers in his hair again, holding him against you as you arch into his touch, already craving more.

hanbin's lips find your nipple through the thin lace of your bra, his mouth hot and hungry as he suckles at the sensitive peak. his hands roam your body greedily, mapping out every dip and curve as if committing your form to memory. he slides one hand up your thigh, his fingers dancing along your skin until he reaches the hem of your shorts. with a wicked grin, he slips his hand underneath, cupping your mound possessively.

"you're already so wet for me, aren't you princess?" he murmurs, rubbing his fingers along your clothed slit teasingly. "i can feel how much you want this."

you let out a shaky moan, your hips bucking up against his hand as you desperately seek more friction. your core is throbbing, aching to be filled, and the way he's touching you is only stoking the flames of your desire.

hanbin chuckles darkly, clearly pleased by your reaction. he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them carelessly to the floor. now completely bare before him, you feel exposed and vulnerable, but also incredibly aroused.

not wasting any time, hanbin parts your thighs, settling between them as he takes in the glorious sight of your glistening folds. he leans in, inhaling deeply, and groans at the intoxicating scent of your arousal.

"fuck, you smell divine," he growls, before diving in and running his tongue along your slit in one long, slow lick. he focuses on your clit, suckling and flicking the sensitive bud with expert precision until you're writhing beneath him.

your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him against you as you grind your hips against his face, chasing your pleasure. hanbin seems to sense how close you are, and doubles his efforts, thrusting his tongue inside your clenching heat and fucking you with it in deep, powerful strokes.

"hanbin!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls of your living room. the obscene wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy fill the room, mixing with your wanton moans and gasps.

just as you're about to crest the peak of your climax, hanbin pulls away, leaving you wanting. you whimper at the loss, only to gasp as he sits up and strips off his shirt, revealing his sculpted torso. he undoes his jeans next, freeing his impressive erection, and you can't help but stare in awe at the thick, hard length of him.

crawling back up your body, hanbin settles between your thighs again, the head of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance. he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he slowly pushes inside you with a low groan.

"fuck, you feel incredible," he praises, his voice strained with pleasure as he hilts inside you completely. "so fucking tight and perfect, like you were made just for me."

you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his ass as he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you with deep, powerful strokes. the pleasure is intense, unlike anything you've ever felt before, and you can't help but clench down around him, drawing him in deeper.

hanbin sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with a passion and hunger that steals your breath away, and you know your neighbours will surely hear the lewd noises spilling from your lips - but you can't bring yourself to care. all that matters is the feeling of hanbin moving inside you, claiming you, owning you in the most primal way possible.

"yes, fuck yes!" you cry out, your nails raking down his back as you cling to him, meeting him thrust for thrust. "harder, hanbin! fuck me harder!"

he complies with a dark chuckle, hammering into you with renewed vigour, the wet squelch of your joined bodies filling the room obscenely. you can feel your climax building again, your walls starting to flutter and tighten around his pistoning cock.

"that's it, princess," hanbin pants, his breath hot against your ear. "cum for me. i want to feel you cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are."

his filthy words are your undoing, and with a sharp cry of his name, you shatter, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. your pussy clamps down around him like a vice, pulsing and milking his cock as he continues to pound into your spasming heat.

hanbin lets out a guttural moan, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep inside you one last time. his cock throbs and jerks as he finds his own release, spilling his hot seed deep inside your clenching cunt. he collapses against you, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath of your intense coupling.

as you lie there, basking in the afterglow, you can't help but think that this is a far cry from the hatred and disdain you normally feel for your fake boyfriend. right now, in this moment, you can't imagine wanting anyone else touching you, pleasuring you, fucking you like this. and if you're being honest with yourself... you never want it to end.

the morning light filtered softly through your bedroom curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. your body felt heavy, your muscles still a little sore from the previous night. as you stirred awake, you slowly blinked, adjusting to the gentle brightness of the morning. before you could register anything else, your eyes landed on hanbin, standing on the opposite side of the bed.

he was adjusting his shirt, the same one from yesterday, slightly wrinkled from being worn overnight. his movements were slow, deliberate, and oddly careful as if he was trying not to wake you. when he noticed you were awake, his gaze met yours, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"morning," he greeted, his voice softer than usual.

you swallowed, suddenly feeling shy. the memories of the previous night flashed through your mind, heat creeping up your neck. "morning," you murmured back, your voice still heavy with sleep.

hanbin tilted his head slightly, observing you. "how are you feeling?"

"i'm okay... just a little tired still."

he nodded, walking around the bed and crouching beside you. "stay in bed. i'll make breakfast."

before you could protest, he placed a firm yet gentle hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down onto the mattress. you sighed but didn’t fight it. the way he was being so thoughtful and caring made your chest tighten. you weren't used to this kind of treatment.

"okay," you relented softly.

hanbin grinned. "good. i’ll be back in a bit."

he left the room, leaving you to stare at the ceiling, trying to process everything. last night had been... different. the intimacy, the way he had held you—it was new. despite his usual teasing and arrogance, last night he had been passionate. attentive.

within ten minutes, hanbin returned, carefully balancing a tray with a plate full of breakfast and a glass of mango juice. the aroma of warm food instantly filled the room, making your stomach rumble.

"breakfast is served," he announced, setting the tray down on your bedside table before handing you the plate.

"thank you," you said sincerely, picking up your fork and taking a bite.

hanbin sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for a hairbrush on your nightstand. without saying a word, he gently ran the brush through your hair, untangling the knots from sleep as you continued eating. the motion was soothing, almost hypnotic.

"you okay with last night?" he asked suddenly, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

you swallowed your bite of food and turned to look at him. his expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes—concern, uncertainty. before he could say more, he added, "if you didn’t enjoy it or if i made you uncomfortable, i—"

"hanbin," you cut him off, placing your hand over his. "it was okay. i really enjoyed it."

his shoulders relaxed slightly, but he still looked like he needed more reassurance.

"i just..." you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. "i act guarded because... well, it’s just how i protect myself."

he nodded, brushing out a final knot in your hair before setting the brush down. "i get it. i won’t push."

you smiled slightly. "i know."

after a brief pause, he clapped his hands together. "alright, what do you wanna wear today?"

you pointed toward your closet. "that beige knit sweater with the black slacks."

hanbin stood up and went to retrieve them, neatly laying them out on your bed. he made a show of smoothing out the wrinkles, acting as if he was your personal stylist.

"perfect choice, my dear girlfriend," he teased, and for once, you didn’t roll your eyes at his antics.

"thanks, my very considerate boyfriend," you replied, making him chuckle.

after finishing breakfast, hanbin took the tray from you. "i’ll do the dishes. you freshen up."

"you don’t have to—"

"shhh." he placed a finger over your lips before you could argue. "go."

reluctantly, you obeyed, heading into the bathroom. as you stood in front of the mirror, you took a deep breath, staring at your reflection. today felt... different. hanbin was different. maybe things were changing between you two.

once you were fully ready, dressed, and your makeup subtly done, you walked out to find hanbin already by the front door, car keys in hand. he looked up at you and gave an approving nod.

"looking good," he commented.

"you don’t look too bad yourself," you said before realizing what you had just admitted.

hanbin’s smirk widened. "did you just—"

"shut up," you muttered, pushing past him as he laughed.

on the drive to set, the usual bickering and playful remarks were replaced with a heavy silence. not uncomfortable, but... different. hanbin was quieter than usual, glancing at you every so often. the tension from last night lingered between you both, thick and unspoken.

"you’re being weird," you finally said, breaking the silence.

"me?" he raised an eyebrow. "you’re the one being quiet."

you scoffed. "you’re usually unbearable by now. where’s the arrogant hanbin i know?"

he chuckled, shaking his head. "maybe i’m just giving you a break."

you side-eyed him. "or maybe you’re just nervous."

he scoffed. "please. me? nervous? over what?"

you shrugged. "you tell me."

hanbin didn’t answer, instead keeping his eyes on the road. the silence returned, but it was heavier now, filled with questions neither of you wanted to be the first to ask.

when you arrived at the filming venue, hanbin parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt before stepping out. you reached for your own seatbelt, but before you could undo it, your door swung open. hanbin stood there, leaning down slightly as he reached in and unbuckled it for you.

you blinked up at him. "i can do that myself, you know."

"i know." his voice was quiet, almost teasing, but not quite. "but where’s the fun in that?"

he held out a hand, and after a slight hesitation, you took it. he helped you out of the car before releasing your hand, walking beside you toward the set.

though his usual arrogance wasn’t present, there was something else—an unspoken understanding, a shift in whatever this relationship between you two was becoming.

whatever it was, you weren’t sure yet. but as you walked together, side by side, you knew something had changed. the air between you held an unfamiliar weight, something fragile yet undeniable. each glance held a question, each movement seemed more deliberate. it wasn’t just routine anymore. something deeper was settling in, and for the first time, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to fight it—or let it happen.

the atmosphere on set buzzed with excitement as the crew prepared for another day of filming. you were adjusting your costume in front of the mirror when the sound of an unfamiliar voice echoed through the set. turning your head slightly, you saw a tall figure walking in with confident strides, his warm smile effortlessly charming everyone in the room.

"juhan!" you called out in pleasant surprise, immediately recognizing him. it had been a while since you had seen him, but the familiarity between you two was instant.

"hey, look at you! still stealing the spotlight, i see." juhan smirked as he approached, his deep, warm voice carrying a teasing edge.

"please, you flatter me," you laughed, playfully rolling your eyes. "what are you even doing here?"

"turns out, i'm your new co-star. thought i’d spice things up around here." he winked, making you chuckle.

hanbin, standing a few feet away, subtly tensed as he watched the exchange unfold. his fingers curled into his palm as he forced himself to remain composed. he wasn't the type to get jealous—or so he told himself—but something about the way you and juhan interacted made something burn uncomfortably in his chest.

"well, that explains all the excitement," you said, grinning. "i'm glad you’re here. it'll be fun working together."

"yeah, it will be. i mean, with you on set, how could it not?" juhan's smile was effortless, natural. he had this way of making you feel at ease, and hanbin hated that he noticed it.

hanbin finally decided he had seen enough. he took a step forward, clearing his throat loudly. "so, you two know each other?" he asked, his voice casual but his gaze sharp.

"oh yeah, we worked on a project together a couple of years ago," you explained. "juhan was my first on-screen partner."

hanbin let out a slow breath through his nose. "interesting."

"yeah, we had great chemistry," juhan added, nudging your arm playfully.

hanbin’s jaw tightened. "that so?"

you caught the subtle shift in hanbin’s expression, the way his eyes darkened just a fraction. the tension was thick, almost suffocating, and you weren’t sure why it unsettled you. you felt a little guilty—though you didn’t owe hanbin anything, you couldn’t deny that his reaction made you a little nervous.

"anyway, i should probably let you get back to preparing," juhan said with a charming grin. "we’ll catch up more later."

as soon as juhan walked away, hanbin seized the moment to step closer to you. "hey, we should rehearse before shooting."

his tone was light, but there was something about the way he said it that made it clear: this wasn’t just about rehearsing. still, you nodded. "sure. let’s go."

hanbin led you to a quieter part of the set where fewer people lingered. as you went through your lines, you both fell into the rhythm of your characters, but the unspoken tension between you and hanbin lingered. every now and then, you caught him sneaking glances at you, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

just then, soojin, one of the assistants who had always admired your work, approached with a bright smile. "that was amazing! your delivery was spot on."

you smiled warmly. "thank you, soojin. that means a lot."

"i’ve always been such a fan of your work," she admitted, practically beaming. "you bring so much depth to your roles. it’s inspiring."

flattered, you chuckled. "that’s really sweet of you to say."

hanbin, standing beside you, watched the interaction with a growing sense of irritation. it wasn’t that he had an issue with people complimenting you—it was that you were actually receiving the admiration, basking in it. and when soojin placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, hanbin’s patience officially ran out.

"alright," hanbin interjected smoothly, stepping in between you and soojin with a tight smile. "we should probably get back to rehearsing."

you raised an eyebrow. "we were just talking."

"yeah, well, we have a schedule to keep," hanbin replied, not missing the way soojin’s hand dropped from your shoulder.

soojin, oblivious to the underlying tension, nodded. "of course! i’ll leave you to it."

as she walked away, you turned to hanbin, arms crossed. "was that really necessary?"

"what? we do need to rehearse," he said, feigning innocence.

"uh-huh," you said, unconvinced. "or are you just annoyed that soojin complimented me?"

hanbin scoffed. "please, i don’t get annoyed over little things like that."

you gave him a knowing look. "right. and earlier? with juhan?"

his jaw clenched for half a second before he masked it with a smirk. "what about earlier?"

"hanbin," you said, exasperated. "you’re being ridiculous."

he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "am i? or do you just not want to admit that you like the attention?"

your breath hitched slightly at his words. before you could respond, he leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping lower. "it’s funny. i don’t recall you ever touching me the way you did soojin."

heat rushed to your face. "that’s different."

"is it?" hanbin’s smirk deepened, but there was an edge to it now. "you seemed pretty comfortable. i’m just wondering where my special treatment is."

"you’re unbelievable," you muttered, pushing past him, but he caught your wrist gently.

"i’m just saying," he murmured, holding your gaze. "if you’re gonna give out attention like that, don’t blame me for wanting my fair share."

you felt your heartbeat quicken, but before you could say anything else, a crew member called for you both to return to set. hanbin released your wrist slowly, but not before running his thumb lightly over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

as you both walked back, you couldn’t ignore the shift in hanbin’s demeanour. the possessiveness, the quiet jealousy—it was all new, and it was stirring something in you that you weren’t sure how to handle.

whatever was happening between you two, one thing was certain: things were getting complicated.

the air was thick with the heat of the stage lights, the scent of coffee lingering in the air as the crew buzzed around, resetting the cameras and adjusting the lighting for the next scene. you had just wrapped up a particularly draining shoot, and the exhaustion clung to your body like a heavy blanket. the long hours, the constant retakes, the demand for perfection—it was beginning to take its toll.

wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead, you took a deep breath, rubbing your temples as you tried to shake off the fatigue when juhan appeared beside you with his usual easy-going smile. he always had a way of making everything seem less overwhelming.

"looks like we’ve got some time before the next scene," he said, stretching his arms over his head with a dramatic yawn. "wanna take a break somewhere quiet? i know a good spot."

you hesitated for a moment, glancing around. hanbin was nowhere in sight—likely caught up in a costume change. it wouldn’t hurt to step away for a bit. "yeah, actually, that sounds nice."

juhan grinned and led you through the winding corridors of the film set until you reached a secluded outdoor seating area tucked behind the venue. it was small and intimate, the kind of space that felt hidden away from the chaos. a few trees cast soft shadows over the space, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, and the distant hum of the city was barely audible. it was peaceful, a rare moment of stillness amidst the chaos of filming.

he flopped down onto one of the benches, patting the spot beside him. "come on, sit. let’s pretend we’re not actors for a little while."

you let out a small laugh, sinking into the seat next to him. "god, i need this. filming today has been exhausting. i feel like i’ve been running on autopilot."

"tell me about it," he groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the wooden bench. "i swear, if i have to redo one more take because of a lighting issue, i might just run away and become a farmer instead."

you chuckled, shaking your head. "i think you'd be a terrible farmer. you'd get bored in five minutes."

he gasped, feigning offense. "excuse you! i’d be an amazing farmer. wake up early, take care of my crops, talk to my chickens—"

"talk to your chickens?" you raised an eyebrow, amused.

"obviously. they’d be my emotional support animals. i’d tell them all my problems," he said, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "‘hey, mr. cluckles, today’s shoot was rough. what do you think i should do?’"

"and what would mr. cluckles say?" you played along, a small smile tugging at your lips.

juhan pursed his lips in thought before putting on a mock serious expression. "he’d say, ‘juhan, my boy, you need to relax. eat some corn. take a nap.’"

that was it. the first genuine laugh of the day burst out of you, making your shoulders shake. juhan’s eyes lit up at the sound, clearly proud of himself.

"see?" he nudged you. "mission accomplished. got you to laugh."

"okay, fine," you admitted, still chuckling. "maybe you wouldn’t be the worst farmer. but still a terrible one."

he grinned. "fair enough. but honestly, i get it. filming has been intense. and being in the public eye just makes it harder, right?"

as the laughter faded, you nodded, exhaling. "yeah. it’s like, even when i’m not working, i’m still working. there’s always some article, some interview, some comment section picking apart every little thing. it’s exhausting."

juhan hummed in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "yep. you have to be ‘on’ all the time. people forget we’re actual human beings."

"exactly!" you gestured with your hands, getting more animated. "and if you show even the slightest bit of imperfection, it’s like the whole world is ready to pounce on you. it’s suffocating."

he studied you for a moment before nodding. "yeah… it is. and it’s hard to know who actually sees you for you, and who just sees you as some… image."

you sighed, leaning back against the bench. "it’s like no matter what, we’re performing. even when we’re not on camera."

juhan sat quietly for a moment before turning to you with a small, knowing smile. "wanna hear something embarrassing?"

you raised an eyebrow. "always."

he laughed. "okay, so back when i first started acting, i had this tiny role in a drama. like, blink and you’ll miss me kind of tiny. but it was my first real gig, so i was nervous as hell."

"go on," you urged, intrigued.

"so, my scene comes up, and all i have to do is walk into a room, set down a tray of drinks, and say one line. easy, right?" he grinned, shaking his head. "wrong. because somehow, i managed to trip over my own feet, send the drinks flying, and—get this—knock over the lead actress’s chair in the process."

your eyes widened. "no way."

"oh, it gets worse." he groaned, covering his face for a second before continuing. "instead of apologizing like a normal person, i panicked and just… ran."

that did it. you burst into laughter, doubling over as you tried to picture the scene. "you ran?"

"full sprint!" he confirmed, laughing along with you. "they had to chase me down just to reshoot."

"i can’t believe that actually happened." you shook your head, still giggling.

"oh, believe it. i still get teased about it to this day." he sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "truly one of my proudest moments."

as your laughter subsided, you realized how much lighter you felt. juhan had a way of making things feel… easier. like the weight of expectations didn’t matter for a little while.

he leaned back, looking up at the sky. "you know, i don’t think i’ve seen you smile this much all day."

you blinked, caught off guard. "really?"

"yeah," he said, his voice softer now. "i know things have been stressful, but i hope you have more moments like this. where you can just be yourself."

his words lingered between you, warm and genuine. for a moment, you simply sat there, appreciating the rare moment of peace before the chaos of filming resumed.

and despite the exhaustion, despite everything, you felt a little lighter than before.

but the moment of peace didn’t last long.

as you laughed at another one of juhan’s jokes, a familiar presence approached from behind. hanbin’s voice rang out, light-hearted but laced with something else, something sharper beneath the surface.

“i see you two are having a good time,” he said, his tone dripping with forced cheerfulness. “should i be worried that i’ll have to fight for y/n’s attention now?”

his signature smirk was plastered across his face, but his eyes told a different story. before you could react, his hand found its way to your waist, his grip firm and deliberate.

juhan, however, remained unfazed, flashing a grin as he leaned back against the bench. “ah, hanbin. don’t worry, i’d never steal your beloved,” he teased, glancing at you before adding, “unless she wanted me to, of course.”

hanbin chuckled, but you felt the tension rolling off him in waves. his fingers lightly squeezed your side, and you shifted slightly under his touch. something about the way he was acting made the atmosphere heavy, like an unsaid battle was happening right in front of you.

“bold of you,” hanbin mused, cocking his head. “but i think she’s got enough on her plate without you making things complicated.”

juhan laughed, completely at ease. “oh, no complications here. just some friendly conversation while we waited. right, y/n?” he turned to you, offering an easy smile.

you nodded slowly, glancing between them. it was clear to you now—hanbin wasn’t just joking. he was jealous. and while you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about that, you didn’t want to let the tension escalate any further.

“actually, juhan, could you give us a moment?” you asked, your voice gentle but firm.

juhan raised his brows slightly before nodding, his smile never faltering. “of course. i’ll see you later, y/n.” he shot hanbin a knowing glance before walking off, leaving you alone with him.

hanbin exhaled, rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off some invisible weight. he turned to you, a careful mask of indifference on his face.

“you didn’t have to do that,” he said, though you caught the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

you sighed. “hanbin, i didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

his lips quirked into a small smirk. “uncomfortable? why would i be uncomfortable?”

“because,” you started, searching his face, “you were obviously jealous.”

hanbin let out a scoff, though it sounded more defensive than amused. “jealous? please. if anything, i was just amused watching juhan try so hard.”

“hanbin, come on. don’t do that.”

he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “do what?”

“act like it doesn’t bother you when it clearly does.”

hanbin studied you for a moment, his gaze unreadable. then, as if deflecting, he leaned in closer, his smirk returning. “you really care what i think that much?”

“of course i do. you and i—” you hesitated, your throat tightening slightly. “i don’t want you feeling weird about anything. we’ve been spending so much time together, and… after what happened, i don’t want there to be any awkwardness.”

hanbin’s smirk faltered for a split second. his playful façade wavered before he chuckled, shaking his head.

“y/n,” he said, voice quieter now. “we’re a fake couple. remember?”

his words hit like a punch to the stomach. you hadn’t expected that to sting as much as it did. something about hearing him say it so plainly, so casually, made your chest tighten.

“right,” you murmured, looking away.

he must’ve noticed the way your expression changed because his grip on your waist tightened slightly. when you finally met his gaze again, something unreadable flickered across his face.

“y/n,” he started, but you cut him off.

“we spent the night together,” you reminded him, your voice barely above a whisper.

his jaw tensed. for the first time, hanbin had no witty remark, no teasing comeback. he simply stared at you, his fingers tightening for just a second before he suddenly pulled you close.

his embrace was firm, almost desperate, like he was afraid of letting you slip through his fingers. his breath was warm against your hair as he held you there, his heartbeat steady but slightly erratic.

“hanbin,” you whispered, but he shook his head against you.

“don’t overthink it,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing against your temple. “just… stay here for a second.”

hesitating only for a moment, you let your hands rest lightly against his back. despite everything, despite the confusing whirlwind of emotions swirling between you two, you let yourself melt into the embrace. because for that moment, even if just for a second, you didn’t want to be a fake couple either.

his grip tightened slightly before he finally spoke again. “y/n,” he murmured against your hair, voice barely above a whisper. “what are we doing?”

your breath hitched, but you didn’t answer.

because truthfully, you weren’t sure anymore.

you sat comfortably on the couch in hyojoo’s office, a warm cup of tea in your hands as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone. the atmosphere was relaxed, the soft hum of her laptop filling the room. it was supposed to be a casual hangout, a chance to unwind after the chaotic filming schedule, but hyojoo’s sharp voice quickly interrupted the peace.

“so, have you seen the latest articles?” she asked, barely concealing her amusement as she looked up from her screen.

curious, you glanced at her. “what now?”

hyojoo smirked before spinning her laptop toward you. bold headlines from multiple entertainment sites filled the screen, along with several photos of you and juhan laughing together on set. the camera had perfectly captured the effortless way you interacted with him, your expressions open and familiar. beneath the images were headlines like: ‘a new romance blooming? juhan and y/n’s undeniable chemistry sparks curiosity.’

“are you serious?” you scoffed, pushing your cup aside as you leaned closer to read. “they think i’m with juhan?”

hyojoo shrugged, crossing her arms. “well, you’ve been fake dating hanbin, but the media loves a fresh angle. and juhan? he’s got that easy charm that makes people want to ship him with anyone.”

she clicked on another tab, revealing a poll with the question: ‘who does y/n have better chemistry with? hanbin or juhan?’ unsurprisingly, hanbin was winning by a landslide.

“well, at least that’s reassuring,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “the fake relationship is still strong.”

hyojoo gave you a knowing look. “speaking of which… you and hanbin. anything new?”

her tone was too casual, too pointed. your fingers tensed slightly around your phone. “uh—”

“don’t even try to dodge this. spill,” she demanded, her sharp eyes practically pinning you in place. “you have that guilty look.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “we… spent the night together.”

hyojoo’s jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

“after the q&a at my house,” you clarified quickly, your face heating up. “it just happened.”

“oh my god.” hyojoo practically vibrated with excitement. “why am i just hearing about this now? details. now.”

“keep your voice down!” you hissed, looking around despite knowing no one else was there.

she waved off your concern. “i don’t care if the whole world hears. you and hanbin? finally? do you even understand how long i’ve been waiting for this?”

“it’s not like that,” you mumbled, looking away. “it was just… in the moment.”

hyojoo’s grin softened slightly, and she leaned forward. “okay, but be honest—do you like him?”

that question made you freeze. after a long pause, you exhaled. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “it feels different now. like, before, it was easy to separate acting from reality, but after that night, everything feels… real.”

hyojoo studied you for a moment before nodding. “so you do like him.”

“i think so.” you swallowed hard. “but then juhan came along, and now everything is more confusing.”

hyojoo groaned, rubbing her temples. “oh my god, y/n. don’t tell me you’re actually considering juhan.”

“it’s not like that!” you defended quickly. “it’s just… ever since he arrived, hanbin has been acting weird. distant. what if he’s losing interest?”

hyojoo rolled her eyes dramatically. “please. hanbin is the most stubborn, competitive man i’ve ever met. you really think he’d just lose interest in you? he’s probably fuming every time he sees you with juhan.”

“but what if he’s pulling away because of it?” you asked, biting your lip. “what if—”

“you are overthinking everything.” hyojoo cut you off with an exasperated groan. “you and hanbin have been fake dating for a while now, and let’s not forget the private moments you two have shared. if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be acting weird at all.”

you hesitated. “i don’t know…”

hyojoo gave you a deadpan stare. “you are impossible.”

“sorry?”

“you should be.”

you chuckled nervously, sinking deeper into the couch. “so… what do i do?”

hyojoo smirked, leaning back with an air of confidence. “simple. if you like hanbin, tell him. stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

her words lingered in your mind, settling deep in your chest. maybe she was right. maybe it was time to stop second-guessing and finally take a step forward.

the sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a golden glow over the filming venue as you walked out of your trailer, drone floating effortlessly behind you. the soft whirring of its blades was a comforting background noise as you turned to greet the camera, a small smile on your lips.

"good morning, guys," you said, your voice light and warm. "today's a filming day, so i thought i’d take you with me and show you around."

you adjusted the angle slightly before heading toward the hair and makeup section. the usual routine went smoothly—foundation, blush, a bit of contour, all while your stylist teased you about your newfound dedication to vlogging. once you were in costume, stomach grumbling slightly, you decided to grab some food before heading to set.

as you navigated through the trailers, you spotted juhan already at the catering table, casually stacking food onto his plate. his eyes flicked up when he noticed you, his signature grin forming.

"well, well," he mused, glancing at the drone. "should i be worried? am i being watched?"

laughing, you shook your head. "it's for vlogging. figured i’d show people what a day on set looks like."

juhan immediately turned to the drone, his confidence kicking in as he offered a charismatic wave. "hello, dear viewers! welcome to the chaotic world of filmmaking."

you giggled, shaking your head. "you should join me for a mukbang."

"absolutely," he said without hesitation, motioning toward the seating area. "let’s eat."

setting up the camera at a good angle, you both began eating, talking about the different dishes available, juhan occasionally throwing in exaggerated reactions to the food, making you laugh. the energy between you was light and easy, and it was clear the camera was picking up on that.

"so, y/n," juhan said between bites, "is this drone your new best friend? should i be jealous?"

you laughed. "honestly? it’s pretty loyal. always follows me around."

"i’ll have to work hard to compete then." he smirked, taking another bite.

midway through, a familiar voice cut through the conversation. "what’s this?"

you turned to see hanbin approaching, hands in his pockets, eyes flickering toward the drone before landing on you. "you’re vlogging?"

"yep," you replied casually. "figured i’d document a filming day."

hanbin smirked, stepping closer to the camera. "well then, hello to all of y/n’s viewers. you’re welcome, by the way, for gracing this vlog with my presence."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. juhan, ever observant, seemed to notice the way you were looking at hanbin and took that as his cue to leave.

"i should probably go," juhan said smoothly, standing up. "i’ll see you later, y/n."

hanbin’s smirk only widened as juhan walked away, his hand immediately finding your waist, thumb grazing the fabric of your costume. "looks like i scared him off," he mused.

"you're insufferable," you muttered, but the warmth spreading in your chest was undeniable.

taking the opportunity, you turned back to the camera, gesturing toward hanbin. "so, as usual, here’s my boyfriend."

hanbin’s grip on your waist tightened slightly as he nodded. "proudly so."

your stomach did a little flip at that, and you quickly turned the conversation toward the set, leading hanbin around as you continued filming. despite the constant movement, his hand never left your waist, his presence grounding in a way that was both comforting and thrilling.

after some time, you sighed. "i need to brush my teeth."

hanbin arched a brow. "should the camera come along for that?"

you shrugged with a teasing smile. "why not?"

his eyes twinkled mischievously. "this should be fun."

with the drone floating behind you both, you made your way to the bathroom trailer. hanbin leaned casually against the doorframe, watching as you grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste.

"so, dear viewers," hanbin addressed the camera with a dramatic flair. "this is a rare behind-the-scenes moment of y/n’s daily dental care routine."

you chuckled as you began brushing, watching his reflection in the mirror as he continued talking.

"did you guys know," he continued, crossing his arms, "that y/n is the most meticulous teeth brusher in the world? truly, a sight to behold."

amused, you flicked some water at him, making him laugh. as you moved on to gently brushing your lips, removing any dead skin, he kept talking, his voice a steady, comforting presence.

"also, fun fact," he said, tilting his head. "she takes brushing her tongue very seriously."

you rolled your eyes, scraping your tongue with exaggerated movements just to play along. hanbin chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

"you’re ridiculous," you muttered, rinsing your mouth.

he leaned closer, smirking. "you love it."

you shot him a look through the mirror, heart skipping a beat at the way he was watching you.

as you set your toothbrush down and wiped your mouth, hanbin glanced at you with a raised brow. "you good?"

you swallowed, nodding. "yeah. just… thinking."

his smirk softened into something gentler. "don’t hurt yourself."

you nudged him playfully, the usual banter covering up the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside you.

as the drone hovered nearby, capturing the moment, you realized something else.

for the first time in a long time, you didn’t mind being watched.

because if anyone were to see the way you looked at hanbin, they’d know the truth.

you had fallen for him. completely.

the sun was still rising when you found yourself pacing outside one of the quieter sections of the set, the cool morning air brushing against your skin. you had been rehearsing the conversation in your mind all night, but now that the moment had arrived, your heart pounded against your ribs. every inhale felt shaky, every thought swirling in your head more chaotic than the last.

juhan arrived right on time, wearing his usual relaxed smile, hands stuffed in his pockets as he approached. "you wanted to talk?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "you look nervous. should i be worried?"

exhaling, you gestured toward the bench nearby. "let’s sit."

he nodded, following your lead as you both settled onto the bench. the morning bustle of the film set carried on in the background—crew members adjusting lights, actors reviewing lines—but here, in this tucked-away corner, it felt like the world had momentarily paused. birds chirped in the distance, the faint hum of conversation surrounding you, but none of it compared to the pounding in your chest.

"look, juhan," you began, your fingers gripping the fabric of your costume as you willed yourself to speak steadily, "i’ve really enjoyed our time together. you're an amazing person, truly, and i’ve loved getting to know you."

his expression softened, though a flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. "but?"

his voice was gentle, expectant, and yet there was an undeniable edge of resignation in his eyes. you swallowed, meeting his gaze directly. "but i’m dating hanbin. and… my feelings for him are stronger than i ever expected them to be."

juhan held your gaze for a moment before exhaling through his nose, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. "i figured," he admitted, leaning back against the bench. "you look at him differently. i noticed it yesterday."

heat crept up your neck, but you didn’t deny it. "i don’t want to lead you on or let any confusion linger between us. you’re important to me, but i see you as a friend. i don’t think that’s going to change."

juhan was quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping absently against his knee. the silence stretched between you, not necessarily heavy, but thick with unspoken words. then, with a small chuckle, he shook his head. "you know, i could’ve made this difficult for you. could’ve pretended i didn’t see it, could’ve made things messy." his eyes flicked to yours, playful yet sincere. "but i respect you too much for that. and if i'm being honest? i respect hanbin too."

relief washed over you, a weight lifting from your chest. "so… we’re good?"

he sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "i suppose i’ll live."

it made you laugh, the tension between you breaking just a little. there was still something bittersweet in the air, but you were grateful for the way he handled it. juhan had always been confident, easy-going, but underneath all that was someone who truly cared.

"thank you, juhan. really."

he smiled, his usual confidence tinged with something softer. "you’re worth being honest for, y/n. and hanbin? he’s lucky."

before you could respond, a crew member jogged over, calling out juhan’s name. he glanced toward them before turning back to you, standing up. "looks like i’ve got a costume fix. duty calls."

he hesitated for just a fraction of a second before reaching out, giving your hand a light squeeze. it was brief but meaningful, a silent way of saying that he understood, that there were no hard feelings. then, with a final wink, he turned on his heel and walked away.

watching him leave, you exhaled, feeling lighter than you had in days. the conversation you had dreaded was now behind you, and there were no more uncertainties, no more lingering questions.

only one thing remained—telling hanbin how you truly felt. and this time, you weren’t going to hold back.

you moved through the bustling set, mentally preparing yourself for the next scene. your costume clung comfortably to your form, and the soft hum of conversation between crew members filled the air. then, as you passed a quiet corner where you usually waited for your turn on set, you spotted him.

hanbin.

he was standing there, his posture tense, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. his usually smug expression was absent, replaced with something unreadable—serious, almost hesitant. the second his gaze met yours, he straightened, his features shifting into a more resolute expression. without a word, he stepped forward, his movements purposeful.

“y/n,” he spoke softly but insistently, his voice steady, yet holding an edge of something deeper. “can we talk? before we go back to filming?”

you hesitated for only a second before nodding. something about his tone sent a nervous flutter through your chest. wordlessly, you followed as he led you away from the noise of the set, guiding you to a secluded area tucked between the trailers. it was quiet, private, the sounds of the production fading into the background.

hanbin exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were gathering his thoughts. when he finally looked at you, his eyes were unguarded in a way you weren’t used to seeing.

“i don’t know how to say this,” he started, his voice lower, more vulnerable than usual. “but... i can’t keep pretending anymore.”

your breath hitched. “what do you mean?”

his lips pressed together for a brief moment before he stepped closer, closing the space between you. “this whole fake dating thing... it was never really fake for me.”

your heart pounded as his words sank in. hanbin? the one who had always been so composed, so effortlessly in control, now looked at you like he was baring a piece of himself he wasn’t sure you’d accept.

he shifted, as if struggling with how to proceed, then let out a quiet chuckle—self-deprecating, almost nervous. “i’ve developed feelings for you, y/n. real ones.”

you felt like the world had stilled.

“hanbin...” you started, but he wasn’t done.

“i’ve been trying to ignore it,” he admitted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “telling myself it was just part of the job. but i can’t anymore. every time i see you, i...” he exhaled sharply. “i want more. i want to be with you, not just pretend. and i know we’ve been playing this game, but it’s not a game to me anymore. it hasn’t been for a while.”

his confession left you breathless. he looked at you like he was standing on the edge of something unknown, waiting for you to either pull him back or take the leap with him.

the realization hit you like a tidal wave—you felt the same.

a slow smile formed on your lips, your voice barely above a whisper. “you idiot.”

hanbin blinked, caught off guard. “what?”

“i’ve been falling for you too.” the words left your lips before you could second-guess them, and the way hanbin’s expression shifted—his lips parting slightly, his eyes darkening with something unspoken—made your stomach flip.

a tension neither of you had ever acknowledged fully before crackled between you. you barely had time to process it before he took a step forward, and then another, until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from him. his hand came up, fingers brushing along your jaw, hesitating just long enough to give you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t.

you leaned in first.

and then his lips met yours.

it was slow at first, almost cautious, but the moment hanbin felt you respond, he deepened the kiss. his hand moved to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as his lips moved against yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. he tasted like mint and something unmistakably him, a warmth that spread through you like wildfire.

your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pressed closer, his other hand finding its way to the small of your back. he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment forever, like he needed to make sure you understood exactly what he felt for you. his lips molded against yours in a rhythm that felt natural, like you had done this a thousand times before, even though this was the first.

his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you even closer, and you sighed into the kiss, losing yourself in the feeling of him. it was dizzying, the way he made you feel—like you had stepped into something irreversible, something neither of you could take back, nor would you want to.

when you finally broke apart, your breaths mingling in the space between you, hanbin rested his forehead against yours. neither of you spoke for a moment, the weight of everything settling between you.

finally, he let out a soft chuckle. “so... i guess that means it’s mutual?”

you laughed breathlessly. “took you long enough to say something.”

hanbin pulled back just enough to look at you, his signature smirk making a return—but this time, it was softer, more genuine. “we should tell the agencies tomorrow.”

you nodded. “yeah. let’s make it real.”

his grip on your waist tightened slightly. “we’ll figure it out together.”

you smiled, your heart still racing, but this time it wasn’t from uncertainty. it was from excitement.

this wasn’t fake anymore. this was real.

and for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly as it should be.

the meeting room was the same as always—bright, sterile, and professional. the long, polished table gleamed under the overhead lighting, and the walls were lined with framed posters of past successful projects. but today, despite the familiar setting, everything felt different.

you walked in with hyojoo beside you, your fingers subtly gripping the edge of your sleeve, a nervous habit you hadn’t quite shaken. across the table, hanbin was already seated. the moment your eyes met, your stomach flipped. you couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or excitement, but his gaze was steady, reassuring. a silent message passed between you: we’ve got this.

“you okay?” hyojoo whispered as she leaned slightly toward you.

you nodded, exhaling slowly. “just nervous.”

“don’t be,” she said with a small smirk. “this is gonna be fun.”

just as you took your seats, the agency representatives shifted in their chairs, clearing their throats as they prepared to begin. hanbin’s agent, a sharp-eyed man with an ever-serious expression, folded his hands together. your agency’s representative, a composed woman in her forties, adjusted her glasses and prepared her notes. the usual routine. you knew exactly what was coming: an update on the status of your fake relationship, potential adjustments to the media narrative, future appearances together.

but before anyone could speak, hanbin leaned forward slightly and interjected.

“actually,” he said, his voice firm but calm. “before we start, y/n and i have something to announce.”

a brief silence filled the room. everyone turned their attention toward the two of you, their expressions shifting from neutral to concerned. hyojoo shot you a side glance, intrigued.

hanbin inhaled sharply, sitting back in his chair as he dragged a hand through his hair. “i can’t do this anymore,” he muttered, his tone tense.

the shift in the atmosphere was immediate. his agent’s brows furrowed. the representatives exchanged uneasy glances. even hyojoo stiffened beside you.

“hanbin—” his agent started, but hanbin held up a hand, cutting him off.

“it’s been unbearable,” he continued, his voice rising slightly. “this entire thing… it’s been driving me insane. keeping up this façade, pretending day after day, lying to the world. it’s infuriating.”

he clenched his jaw, shaking his head. his body language screamed frustration, and you could practically hear the silent panic settling in the room. hyojoo’s grip tightened on your wrist under the table, likely holding back a laugh.

his performance was impeccable.

of course, you knew better. you knew hanbin—knew the way his eyes sparkled when he was up to something, the way his lips twitched just slightly when he was suppressing a smirk. he was playing his part flawlessly, making every single person in the room believe he was on the verge of walking out.

finally, after a long, dramatic pause, he exhaled deeply. then, in a complete shift of energy, he leaned forward, reaching across the table to take your hand in his.

“it’s unbearable,” he repeated, but this time, his voice softened. “because the truth is, i’ve fallen for her.”

silence.

absolute silence.

the tension that had wrapped itself around the room just moments ago dissipated in an instant. your heart pounded as you felt his warm palm against yours, his fingers curling slightly around your own.

you swallowed hard, but you didn’t hesitate. “i fell for him too.”

for a split second, no one moved. no one spoke.

and then—

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

hyojoo’s piercing scream shattered the quiet, making you flinch before you burst into laughter. she leaped from her chair, practically lunging at you before wrapping her arms around your shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. “OH MY GOD, FINALLY! FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY! I KNEW IT!”

you laughed against her shoulder as she rocked you side to side. hanbin, still holding your hand, watched in amusement, shaking his head slightly.

hanbin’s agent let out a breath of relief, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair. “well, damn. congratulations, i guess.” he started clapping, and soon, the rest of the room followed suit, a mix of laughter and genuine well wishes filling the space.

your agency’s representative smiled, nodding approvingly. “well, that certainly changes things. congratulations to you both. we’ll discuss how to move forward from a PR perspective, but first—” she glanced at her colleagues, who nodded in agreement. “i think this calls for a celebration dinner.”

you turned to look at hanbin, your heart still racing. he was already smiling at you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly before he gave it a playful squeeze.

without thinking, you jumped up from your seat and ran around the table, practically throwing yourself into his arms. hanbin caught you effortlessly, laughing as he lifted you off the ground for a second before setting you back down, holding you close.

“well, this is adorable,” hyojoo cooed, crossing her arms as she grinned at the two of you. “so sickeningly cute, but adorable nonetheless.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled against hanbin’s shoulder as he murmured just loud enough for you to hear, “so, we’re really doing this?”

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. “yeah,” you whispered. “we’re really doing this.”

hanbin grinned, that signature smirk of his finally making a return. “good. because i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, hyojoo let out another dramatic groan. “ugh, you two are going to be one of those disgustingly sweet couples, aren’t you?”

hanbin laughed, finally letting you go, though his hand lingered on your waist. “probably.”

hyojoo pretended to gag. “great. just great. but hey,” she nudged you with a knowing smirk. “you better make sure this lasts even after your movie together releases. no flaking out now.”

you squeezed hanbin’s hand, smiling up at him as he looked down at you with nothing but warmth in his eyes. “oh, don’t worry.” you said. “this is just the beginning.”

a/n : hi everyone! this was my first fic in like a REALLY long time & definitely my longest, i hope you enjoyed it & i'd be very open to advice for improvement! hope you have a nice day :)

[sometimeslwish]

God's & Monsters

I was reading Heat Haven by @iraot , and seeing the way they wrote Sylus and Rafayel's dynamic made me think of another Rafayel x reader x Sylus fic, and now we have this angsty little thing.

Chapter 1: Half a heart, half a soul.

Imagine the god of the sea ceremony, imagine bonding your hearts together and then being ripped from his arms without a warning. Imagine waking up in a strange place, no recollection or memories of what happened, only a vague sense of "I shouldn't be here," and a name at the tip of your tongue that you can't quite remember. It starts with an R, you know it does, but what about the rest of it?

There's a lamp with a little dragon on it that you keep close. You only kept it because it was blue and there were fishes draw in it, reminiscent of a dragon lying atop a sphere filled with fishes and other sea creatures. But over time, you started liking the dragon too.

Everything about your current predicament instills a sense of deja vu, filling you with dread. A temple that took you, an orphan, in. Someone they raised to be humble and selfless, to blindly devote themselves to a cause. Everything about it feels wrong, like you should run, but you say nothing, they've been kind after all.

A superior finds you when you think it's safe to pull your lamp out. You fight for it, fight for memories you don't want to fade, memories of the sea and of purple waves and sunset eyes. They call you a sorceress, throw you out and hunt for you when you run away.

You meet a dragon.

It was funny. They had claimed you'd made a deal with a fiend when you fought for that lamp, and here you were, actually making a deal with one. Your anger didn't allow you to care for repercussions. You wanted revenge, wanted the fucking lamp back. And revenge he gave you.

You plundered villages, wreaked havoc in the city, traveled the land, learned new things, visited Tarus city's market. Made new memories with the dragon. You'd come to name him Sylus, and contrary to his claim that you could call him whatever you wanted but not expect him to answer, he'd taken the name as his.

Both of you knew of your doom. That the end would be painful, but neither cared, clinging into false hope. You bound your souls together, swore loyalty to each other.

Doomsday came, but not in the way the prophesy foretold. Or maybe that was the way, the people had just misunderstood, the true meaning getting lost over time.

It hadn't been him who'd brought the end, no. He'd died by your hand, forcing you to pierce your sword into his chest.

It'd been you, after you'd finally become one with your dragon; his horns, wings and tail on your body instead. Filled with sorrow and anger, you'd swept over the land and brought the doomsday they'd claimed was near.

Some time later, you met the same fate.

A princeling, the kings first son, had come to claim your life. He'd found you in a field of flowers, humming brokenly to yourself. You hadn't cared to ask his name, bones dreary and tired, exhaustion taking over you. He didn't have a long sword like you, only his calm but determined gaze as he'd approached. He hadn't been snobby in his approach, hadn't spewed useless words or hurled insults filled with vitriol like the warriors before him. He'd been oddly gentle with handling you. The fight had been fun, contrary to what you'd expected, and it had been worth it.

When his sword had finally striken your chest, you had a soft smile in your lips. It made you reminisce, made you think how he had felt when your positions had been flipped.

"Thank you," you whispered, raising your head to met his sky blue eyes, before succumbing to death's embrace and fading with the wind.

[luckyartdrawer]

100 Follower Milestone!!! Royal AU!!!

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Technically the PT 2 for celebrating due to a tie in the poll. PT 1 here <3

✨🎉✨🎉✨🎉✨🎉✨🎉✨

Here ye, here ye! The newly crowned King Eclipse finally comes down to greet his people!

Created to be the perfect ruler, a nation's answer to repeated corrupt leadership, Eclipse is meant to be the best combination of both logic and care. It seems today True Eclipse graces us today, how wonderful! Though one cannot help but be curious about individually meeting with the nurturing Sun or the analytical Moon protocols...

(vvv Extras and AU lore/Yapping below! vvv)

Without the bright lighting <3

I apologize about the long wait lovelies, life and some art struggles had kept me from completing this lovely fella. Said art struggles being that I just couldn't get this piece to how it looks in my head and I was becoming frustrated with it 😔

So, instead of grinding myself down with stubbornness, I decided to get things as presentable as possible and releasing this silly to the world. I hope in the end this is still satisfying for y'all to see! <3

I had so much I wanted to do but the art was not arting and this has been sitting for too long on the wayside uaghhh-

But that's enough of that! For those of you interested in AU ideas/lore/plot, here's what I cooked up :3

This world takes place in a time where humans and animatronics are both commonplace and recognized as sentient - though it is still a somewhat recent development (around 100 years) for AI sentience to be widely accepted. Tensions between them were dwindling, but at the appearance of the Animatronic King, whispers of worrying conspiracies started floating around the human population...

Eclipse was built by a team of humans and animatronics to solely to rule over the nation. (I have yet to come up with a kingdom name bc I am terrible at them) The kingdom was not exactly failing under its previous rulers, but crime was rampant and outrage was plentiful at how the previous leaders seemed to turn a blind eye to the citizen's pains as long as they had a reason to benefit from it. With a staggering show of community and a great growth in companionship, both humans and Animatronics worked together and overthrew the kingdom, but with no single person able to agree on who will take over, eventually a tense agreement came about building a new ruler...

Eclipse has multiple modes that can be willingly switched out at any time:

True Eclipse mode is when both the Sun and Moon protocols are active, neither taking priority over the other -- see it as if both Sun and Moon are controlling a body at the same time! In this state, their thoughts intermingle rapidly and slight disagreements between the protocols won't be an issue as in this state mitigation is at its easiest, both sides understanding what the other is thinking and feeling to the fullest. They seem to form almost a new personality together, but hints of both sides' quirks peek out, like Sun's habit of rambling and Moon's fidgeting and chewing habits when focused or stressed.

The Sun mode is when the more empathetic AI protocol has taken the lead. This will happen in different ways, such as when the situation calls for a more caring and delicate approach to things, when the Moon AI protocol doesn't wish to be present or allows the singularity, and when the AI itself fights/forces it's way into the front if it absolutely feels as necessary, much like how emotions do.

The Moon mode is when the more calm and calculating AI protocol has taken the lead. This will happen in different ways, such as when the situation calls for a logical and cold approach to things, when the Sun AI protocol doesn't wish to be present or allows the singularity, and when the AI itself overrides its way to the front if absolutely necessary for the betterment of the nation, as sometimes drastic measures must be taken no matter what.

(AKA, Sun, Moon, Eclipse are all one AI, but Sun and Moon are their own protocols, and they combine protocols to make Eclipse!)

Their appearance does not change much between modes! Only their eye colors change, and the only other way to tell if they have switched modes is by their physical and vocal mannerisms:

Sun has a fast voice that's typically upbeat and cheery! He occasionally stumbles over himself as he tends to think faster than he speaks.

Moon has a slow voice that doesn't usually show much emotion and can tend to mumble. There are usually small to long pauses when having a conversation with him, as he tends to calculate what the best plausible response would be.

Eclipse is the most calm sounding, able to project or lower his voice if necessary but otherwise talks at an even speaking volume. His smooth and ready responses make him come across as charming and well put together, no matter how many times he admits otherwise.

Don't let their coded dispositions and stagnant smile fool you! All the modes still can hold the wide array emotions, though some are harder to upset or phase than others. :3

(They like to cover their smile when upset or thinking. Only their eyes/eyelids can move--and I suppose their nightcap too-- to show expression!)

Is there any plans for a y/n or x reader?

Sure, eventually I'll make a fic for it! This was an idea I had for a while but never decided to officially cook up. It'll probably be a while since I have so many fics rn to take care of...

I've had 2 ideas for y/ns butttt I'm leaning more towards one over the other... I have great story ideas for both though!

Idea 1: Y/n is hired to be a Royal Advisor for the king! But wait... This isn't even close to what they signed up for..? They were going to be a simple kitchen hand! How did this happen?! They're too afraid to speak up to the king about it, fearful of getting tossed back into poverty or worse, especially right after being welcomed in and treated to all the lavish living within the castle -- they even have their own room here! Hopefully the king will be merciful as they learn as they work... It's not like they're the only one helping around here, right?

Idea 2: Y/n is hired to be the Royal Jester! They honestly hadn't meant to, but they consider themselves grateful for the position. Free room and free meals? Just by making jokes all the time? A total win!!! It all happened during the celebration towards the crowning of the new King, and said king meandered around town late into the day to enjoy the festivities. He eventually got tired of the constant eyes from his creators that he momentarily slipped into a pub to enjoy being with his people unabashedly. Long story short, a drunk y/n jokingly harassed and goofed around so hard that the King was so annoyingly impressed and tickled that he just had to keep them. They had some guilt about how they acted, but its water under the bridge. Hey, don't blame y/n, they just do what they do best! Jest! And what's a king without a Jester?

DONE... oh my goodness that's so much info... hope that feeds y'all hehe <3

Once again THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I really appreciate y'all and I hope this was worth the wait. :3

🎉🎉🎉

I got a few art things I simply MUST do, so expect those sometimes within the next few weeks, but as always my schedule will be wonky and I keep wanting to start 50 million projects, soooo I stay as the wild card. I do have a lot of life stuff besides college popping up recently and I'm making an effort to be a little less online, but trust that even if there's bouts of silence from me, I will be back hehe >:3

Until next time lovelies! ✨✨✨

[babyrdie]

Oh! I think so!

In the Greek Anthology there is text in which she sees the destruction that Phyrrus caused as a kind of revenge for the death of Achilles:

Thou hast made to cease all the heavy woe of my heart for the fate of thy father Achilles, whom mournful Troy slew. To the Greeks who were eager for it thou hast given the undying glory which the ten years of war could not accomplish for the whole host of the Danai.

Translation by William Roger Paton.

It makes the idea in Pseudo-Apollodorus of her marrying Helenus even more intriguing…what is it like for her to see a direct victim of a destruction she celebrated? Troy to her for a long time was just this foreign land that kept taking things from her. First who was supposed to be her husband, then her son. She was removed from that, Skyros was an island that had no involvement in the war in most versions. A princess isolated on an island who keeps losing loved ones to the idea of ​​glory promised in Troy…it's easy for her to blame Troy. But Helenus isn't Troy, Helenus is Helenus. Nor is Andromache Troy, she is Andromache. Married to Helenus and seeing Andromache return, I think it's impossible that she didn't eventually realize that Troy isn't just an idea, it's made up of people. People who were destroyed by Achilles and Neoptolemus, people whose destruction she was relieved about because it meant Phyrrus wasn't at risk.

Furthermore, in the lost play The Skyrians by Euripides, Deidamia has no mother because her mother died:

Skyrians, which begins, ‘O daughter of Tyndareus from Sparta…; the plot is as follows: Thetis, having learned of (the destiny) of her son Achilles, wanted (to keep) him out of the expedition (against Troy), and so (she concealed) him in a girl’s clothing (and deposited him) with Lycomedes the (ruler) of the Scyrians. Lycomedes was raising (a daughter) named (Deidameia) whose mother had died, and he brought (Achilles) up as a girl together with her, his real identity being unrecognized; and Achilles… seduced Deidameia and made her pregnant. Agamemnon and his comrades (were told) by an oracle not (to make their expedition) without Achilles…Diomedes…(they,) learning…

In other words, she had already lost someone before Achilles. Achilles was the second loss, she feared that Neoptolemus would be the third. She didn't have a mother to accompany her in the transition from girl to woman, she didn't have a husband she could count on, and in the end she might have become childless too. I think she might be very scared. In some visual depictions, Deidamia grabs Achilles to prevent him from going to war. In Philostratus and Quintus Smyrnaeus, Deidamia actively tries to prevent Phyrrus from going to war. Deidamia tries and tries, and she can never hold them back. In that sense, she's kind of like Thetis, fighting to keep alive those who are willing to die if it means glory.

So yeah…I imagine Deidamia had a strange relationship with Troy and what that meant for her and her family. Initially, it was a place she had no interest in. She only had sisters, she didn't have a brother! And so none of the royals of Skyros were suitors for Helen, so Skyros wouldn't have to care about the suitors meeting. But then Achilles is in Skyros and she cares about Achilles. And Achilles may not have been a suitor, but he was wanted because of the prophecy. And then he's gone and Troy, which was nothing before, is now the place that took away the one who was supposed to be her husband. And he dies, so Troy is DEFINITELY the place that took Achilles away. Then Phyrrus goes to Troy in and it's like Troy wants to rip her son away too. But the son returns alive, so Deidamia can celebrate. She can take comfort in the idea that she won't lose the one she loves anymore. But hey, she's married to a Trojan now, Neoptolemus gave her to him. And if she learned to love Helenus…how can she celebrate that Troy is destroyed? Phyrrus, her dear son, isn't even Phyrrus anymore. His name is Neoptolemus now. He used to play with the shepherds' children, but now he returns victorious with Helenus and Andromache enslaved and a look no young man should have. Did she really celebrate Phyrrus' return? Phyrrus no longer exists. And if Pyrrha doesn't exist, who guarantees that "Pyrrha" existed when Achilles died?

And then there is no more comfort in Troy no more existing. There is no comfort because Achilles was no longer Phyrra, he was no longer that boy who played the lyre for her and complained about hurting his finger while trying to spin and weave. He was someone worthy of being called "the best of the Achaeans," a sacker of cities. And Phyrrus didn't return, it was Neoptolemus who returned. And Neoptolemus is no longer the son of Deidamia, he is the son of Achilles. Not the Achilles that Deidamia knew, but the Achilles that Troy knew. And the Achilles that Troy knew… is the Achilles that Deidamia desperately tried to keep from existing by begging him to stay in Skyros.

Now the destruction of Troy brings no comfort. And now, looking at Helenus and Andromache it brings only guilt. It wasn't she who set out to destroy Troy, but it was she who celebrated its destruction. She celebrated the misfortune of the people who would become her new family. A family she would never have had if Troy hadn't been destroyed because then none of them would need to be in Epirus.

Deidamia has SO much potential.

Deidamia has so much angst potential

Yes, she does!

Deidamia was just a girl who was most likely sheltered, considering her father only had daughters. Her mother is never present in the myths, I wouldn't be surprised if her mother was either dead or not a present figure. She probably spent her days without many worries, having a princess education and then spending the day having fun with her sisters (as, for example, Philostratus describes). And then she had feelings for this new girl Phyrra, and she probably felt horrible about it because it was definitely not well regarded (something similar to the poem attributed to Bion of Smyrna). But the girl wasn't even a girl, and so Deidamia was in love with someone she didn't really know as much as she thought she did. And they were two very young people without proper supervision and now she's pregnant (Deidamia even took a while to realize this in Euripides' version), but she's just a girl and this child isn't even a child of the marriage. And now she's being forced to grow up fast, because she has to be the mother of this unplanned child. And not only that, but the father is leaving because glory is more important to him than her or their child. Achilles will become a man through the glory of war, she will become a woman through motherhood. And they're trapped in these gender roles and they will never see each other again because his destiny is to die in Troy.

She raises this child as a single mother, although at least she has support (father, sisters, maybe Thetis). We never really get her point of view…how is she viewed because of this? In some versions, Achilles marries her, but in others he doesn't. How is she viewed because she's a princess who got pregnant before marriage by a boy who didn't even marry her and who will never come back? At first, did people even believe the story that the father was the famous prophesied son of a goddess? Phyrrus is so sweet, playing with the shepherds' children, having fun with his innocent toys and he will never be like his father, a boy who gave up the opportunity of a home for the opportunity of war (inspired by Philostratus and Quintus of Smyrna). But then the news that Achilles has died comes and Deidamia is mourning, but she is mourning a person she hasn't seen in years. A person she last saw as a boy, who now that he is dead is a man. Maybe her memories of him don't even match up with what he is like now, but she will never get to know that. She doesn't even have much time to mourn, because soon the same men who took Achilles are demanding her son. They took the man who was supposed to be her husband, and now they're taking her son. And no matter how much she or Lycomedes try to stop them, Phyrrus is too seduced by following the ghost of a father he never knew and who his mother probably doesn't even know anymore. And then her son goes away, and perhaps like his father he will not return. Like his father he will die young in a foreign land because the seductive glow of glory has taken over his senses.

But he doesn't die in a foreign land like his father, he is alive. But he isn't Phyrrus, he is Neoptolemus. He is no longer the child who played with toys and shepherds' children, he is the person who chased the elderly king of Troy into a temple of Zeus and killed him without mercy or respect for the gods. He is alive, yes, but Deidamia doesn't really have her son back. And so either we don't know Deidamia's fate or, as in Pseudo-Apollodorus' version, she is married to Helenus. She is then married to this man whose home was destroyed by both Achilles and Neoptolemus. And maybe she loves Helenus, but she also loves Achilles and Neoptolemus. And how can she deal with that? How can she love Achilles and still mourn him, if the person who was in Skyros no longer has the personality of the person who died in Troy? How can she be happy that her little boy has returned, if he is not even her little boy anymore? At least, not in personality. And how can she rejoice that Neoptolemus is alive, if for that Helenus had to lose his home and the people he loved?

And then Neoptolemus is dead, and she is sad. At the same time, she cannot want Helenus to share this grief. He has a right not to feel this way. And Andromache arrives in Epirus and Deidamia has to face directly the consequences of what Neoptolemus did, while thinking about how Achilles must have done similar things. And Andromache and Helenus have a connection that Deidamia will never understand, she can never truly know what it's like to be in their situation. She can only learn to face the fact that you loving someone doesn't make them inherently good to others. Helenus is taken by the presence of Apollo when he prophesies and she just has to learn to deal with the presence of this god, the same god who killed her son and her son's father. But, having lived with Helenus and Andromache, can she really find their deaths entirely unjust? She's still sad, of course, but can she really throw her hands up to the heavens and scream that it's injustice?

In a way, I think Deidamia is a good representation of what it was like to be a woman, although it is more specifically the reality of a princess. She has to deal with being an innocent girl, she has to deal with thinking about the possibility of liking another girl, she has to deal with the idea of ​​sneaking around with a boy, she has to deal with an unplanned pregnancy, she has to deal with being abandoned by the man who was supposed to be her husband, she has to raise her son without a husband while constantly thinking that her son's father is going to die, she has to find out that her son's father really is dead, she has to watch her son go to the same fate, she has to deal with the anxiety that he doesn't come back, she has to deal with the relief of seeing her son again and the loss of him not being the same anymore, she has to deal with the consequences of the actions of the men she loves on the lives of other people she has grown to love. And most of this happens while she is on the island, looking at the sea and thinking that this is the same sea that Achilles and Neoptolemus set out on for a distant land. At least, that's how I interpret her situation.

She has SO much potential, but people ignore her potential. Most of the time, Deidamia is just used to say something about Achilles and Patroclus' relationship. It's really sad.

[garcinogeneticist]

MAG 1 Dutch translation

I've finished translating MAG 1 anglerfish into Dutch! I have a love hate relationship with this deeply unserious language. Oh and please let me know if I've made any spelling/grammatical mistakes. I tend to overlook them at times

[bizarrelittlemew]

calling it right now that season 3 starts like this

[childrenofthesun77]

...okay, so I'm probably not the first person to notice this.

But gear's earing that he points towards when he says that he did the same ritual he wanted to help kuro with already on himself before:

actually looks pretty similar to the pieces of the necklace the count used to create the servamps:

The different pieces of the necklace seem to contain one demon each and the count used them to create the servamps.

So...did the count either learn this technique from the werewolves or is he possible even originally a werewolf himself? It would explain why he's immortal, that's why I'm wondering about this.

Gear says that the ritual is used to remove spirits, could it be that the count removed his own sins using the werewolf ritual and created the demons this way? But he went too far and removed too much unlike gear who only removed one part of himself? Him removing the sins from himself would also explain why he's so weird and doesn't understand other beings. As the sin demons say, they are a natural part of being a human and we have seen multiple times that denying their existence is harmful, removing them all from you would probably lead to you not being able to relate to other people anymore.

Maybe removing all these parts of himself is also why he has no appearance. Without his demons he's not a person anymore.

The count originally being a werewolf would also explain why he has magical abilities (gear can also use magic) before other magicians existed and why he's so anxious about certain people dying. Gear talks about how his immortality makes him sad because human friends do die, but unlike the count gear seems to accept death, grieves in a heathier way than the count and is able to move on and make new friends. Could also explain why his magic and creations are all strongly tied to the (full) moon.

Another similarity is that while werewolves apparently can't reproduce gear was able to have descendants by sharing his life force (it's mentioned in chapter 135 which isn't translated yet) with a woman and through her human children tsurugi is related to gear. Sigurd explained to nicco that the magicians came to be because the count let humans drink his blood, three survived, got magical ablities and became the ancestors of all human magicians:

Maybe the count is more of a werecat though. He and the sloth demon do seem to have a closer connection, even though the count's appearance changes depending on the person looking at him he does usually keep his tail and the tip looks exactly like the one of kuro's cat/lion form and similar to the the one of inner sloth's non-human form.

It was also stated multiple times that the sloth demon is the strongest. I wonder why that is. Servamp comments on the fact that being lazy is often actually a sign of depression/anxiety through kuro's arc, so maybe the count was depressed and that's why the sloth demon is the strongest? Basically the demons strength depends on how much the count suffered from the different sins? It would also explain why melancholy is so strong, I assume kuro refusing to see him no matter how many siblings he sent his way to tell him to come looking for the count made him extremely sad and probably even made him come up with the plan to have himself be killed and then put in the same body as kuro through the ritual.

I assume he was behind C3 ordering the servamps to kill him because he's the one who created the magicians and thus C3 and lily who is kind of working for him was probably the one who put the idea that the count needed to be killed into the head of his eve (aka a member of the alicein family who hold a lot of power in C3 basically since the beginning. I explained this in more detail in another post). The people from C3 even said that the count can only be killed if he wants to and yeah, kuro didn't truly kill him, but he did destroy his body and kuro seems to have met little resistance when he attacked the count. Which probably means the count wanted this to happen.

[ayyponine]

not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....