#guest muse activity

[auricbound]

don't mind him. he's being used as a pillow right now. it's actually quite the fulfilling existence, he'd like to argue. edward is wonderfully warm - when he's not complaining about it being cold, that is. at least he knows he'll be sleeping easy later because of it.

[lawain-dimensional-heroes]

“Paimon’s not gonna sit here and not be a part of this-- let me in! lemme iiiiiiiiiiiin!!!!“

[h0ptimists]

ANOTHER WORLD - Accepting

@heroichedgehammer​

Another windy day... Another mundane day as he trended through the thick forest; sword in hand and expression hidden. Despite the quietness of the forest; it only made the warrior unease, as it usually meant trouble was brewing in the background.

And ensure enough, he was right when a creature jumped out of the brush and tried to rip him into pieces with their claws... However, he was fast and blocked the incoming attack before swinging his sword at the creature and knocking it down in one strike.

He looked at the creature for a moment before walking away with a frown on his face.

Dust from Dust An Elysian Tail

[pearlymel]

A dance— Capitano

Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.

Wc : 3.2k

Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.

Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!

You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.

Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.

All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)

Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.

It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.

Like last week.

“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.

Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.

"Did you learn it from someone?”

“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”

You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.

“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.

Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.

"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”

“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”

“i don't.”

And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.

“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.

You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.

An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.

“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.

“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”

“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.

All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.

But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.

You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.

“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”

“and the colour?”

"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”

Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.

Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.

Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.

You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”

"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”

You are ready.

You are not ready.

Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?

The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.

Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.

You were here to make friends, hopefully.

You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.

And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.

Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?

Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.

But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?

You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.

“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.

"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.

The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.

Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.

He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.

"I suppose we should dance, wife.”

“you want to dance?”

"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.

You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.

Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.

"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.

Interesting.

He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.

You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.

His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.

”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”

You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.

His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.

"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.

"You look rather well tonight, as well.”

“Thank you, wife.”

The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.

You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.

As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.

You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.

But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.

"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.

"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”

He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.

Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.

“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.

The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.

Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.

Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.

The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.

He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.

“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let it breath from the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.

You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in him stir.

His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.

It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.

Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.

You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.

Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.

“Will you allow me to touch you?”

The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.

When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.

His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.

“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”

And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.

“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.

“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.

He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.

His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.

It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.

Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.

Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.

“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.

“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’

Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.

Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.

You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.

He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.

His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.

“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.

Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.

—

You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.

As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.

“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”

Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,

[wardogxicarus]

[Both] Female, very tall with green eyes and black hair. Very sweet and kind, but isn't afraid to use teeth when the situation demands it. Enjoys botany, and has recently discovered a love for architecture.

Meme [x] | Describe your muse on anon and my muse will say if they would date them or not. | Anon

Silas: -smirks- How soon can you those teeth on me, beautiful~?

Shale: -blink- I... You wanna go to a museum?

[blindedguilt]

//It seems like whenever I get ahead with this blog my classes like to dump work on me and put me behind again, but...

//Fear not! I have like four essays to do over the course of the next week but that's the brunt of it, honestly. We'll get it done ❤️ It'll be hell tho so please wish me luck lmao

//All things aside, I dunno when or if but I might consider having a little,,, I guess they're called guest muses? Just have someone pop on for a day or so and then out, I maybe WOULD like to try them but... I don't think I'd have them for long. We'll see when the month is over most like, by then my classes should be all wrapped up!

//In the meantime, I'll be in and out working on the asks I have when I can through these essays. One bit at a time :')

[nyalternatehellkitten]

"I must say I'm not too fond of the increase in night shifts. Shutting down the casino during the day for renovation work is one thing, but making us work at night? Even with half shifts, it still makes looking after my kids much more difficult..."

"At least you get half shifts... I got half as many shifts, but all of them are all night long..."

"Can we talk about something else? I already have to listen to Nyalter complain about it all the time in the changing room, I don't want to have to hear it in the rec room too..."

[selenezq]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

After a long wait, (thanks depression) my fic where Alastor rails you in a sundress is finally here.

Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

CW: dub con, stalking, rough sex, explicit content, porn no plot, plot where, plot who

Sundress Summer

It was a hot, but not unpleasantly so day in hell. 

The perfect time for wearing a sundress to the picnic Charlie had organized for the bonding exercise of the day. The first thing you noticed as you came to the end of the well-maintained stone walkway was the large red and white checkered tablecloths which covered two sizeable wooden picnic tables to your right. The pleasant breeze caused the edges of the fabric to flutter against the sides of the tables. 

A massive spread of food covered both surface areas; it was more than they could all eat truly but it was clear Charlie had tried her best to create another memorable experience for her guests. You smiled from ear to ear with joy at the sight of all your friends together enjoying a day at the park. Husk and Angel Dust were seated on one of the benches lining the massive spread, the spider demon trying his best to get Husk to eat the grape he was attempting to feed him. 

"C'mon, just let me feed ya one." Angel whined at the former overlord pushing the piece of fruit towards him. 

"Cut that shit out, I can feed myself." Husk growled gruffly, as he swatted half-heartedly at Angel's hand before relenting. "Just one, and then leave it alone alright?"

Husk took a surveying glance around to ensure no one was watching the two of them. You quickly looked in the opposite direction to your left, faining interest in a passing butterfly so as not to intrude on their moment. You tried your best to hide a delighted smile. 

With a resigned sigh, Husk let Angel gently feed him a lone grape. "Ah yeah, you like that in ya mouth daddy?" Angel says salaciously with a flirtatious grin. 

"Fucking hell, you just had to go and make it weird didn't you," Husk scolded, before giving the tall demon a small shove. You did your best to hold in a laugh, ensuring not to make eye contact with the duo. Your ocular muscles searched for the rest of the group, coming to a stop when you spotted Charlie, excitedly pointing to something in the distance. 

"Ohmygosh Vaggie look!!" She exclaimed excitedly, her words strung all together in exuberance. "I can't believe this Infernenta plant is flowering!" Charlie said before skipping joyfully over towards the flowering bush. 

She skipped joyfully over towards the flowering bush, her girlfriend watching with a loving expression. Eyes which were usually fierce and full of rage softened before she followed after Charlie. “Yeah, that’s really cool babe.” She said, her voice beginning to fade as she walked further away from you. 

You smiled fondly as you watched them go—the two of them were very sweet together. Niffty quickly took over your vision as she dashed around, pulling your attention away from the two lovebirds. She held her needle high in the air with her little hand; she was on the hunt, chasing a particularly large bug. 

With a small shudder, you turned around and headed towards an opening in the woods, determined to explore. The thoughts in your busy mind dwelled on the members of your unorthodox group of friends until it occurred to you that had not yet seen Alastor. You wondered what he could be up to—though he rarely joined in on bonding activities. 

You pondered deeply on how glad you were to have met them all as your feet took you down a slightly overgrown path, large weeds sprouting between the cracks on the deteriorated stone passage. Lost in your internal musing, you failed to notice a pair of glowing red eyes watching you from the distance; the hunter was tracking your every move. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Radio Demon watched you from the shadows, hidden behind massive amounts of lush, green, foliage. It was a position most familiar to him from his time alive, hiding from plain sight while he waited for the perfect moment to approach his prey. He watched you with an ill-intended gaze, as the short patterned material of your sundress highlighted the beautiful curves of your body. An unfamiliar feeling of desire coursed through him as he feasted his eyes on the sight of you wandering, helplessly alone. You were completely unaware of the danger that lurked behind you—the perfect, irresistible prey. 

Alastor was more than well-adjusted to the way the others at the hotel viewed his presence. He was infamous for the danger he posed, but you seemed content to naively ignore the threat he posed. Perhaps that was why he now found himself obsessed with you, needing to be constantly closer to you. No amount of effort could dissuade his need to be close to you; any amount of distance was simply unacceptable. The very lack of your presence had become most intolerable, to the point he found himself stalking you through the shadows, unable to look away from your gentle form. 

At first, these feelings had angered him. Alastor had tried his best to make you fear him, unused to all of the new sensations you evoked in him. Popping up from the shadows, scaring you when you were alone in the dimmed hallways of the hotel. You had always laughed in response, slapping his chest playfully as you laughed at his joke and were it anyone he would skin them alive for the unwanted touch. He found it most irritating when you would pull away as if your hand should ever be anywhere but on him. 

He started going out of his way to touch you—to make you uncomfortable. It was certainly not because he craved the feeling of your soft, warm, skin under his hand. It became a game he’d play, a way to see how far he could go, how long you would let his hand linger on you. Could he rouse a blush to those beautiful cheeks of yours? Somehow, he rather felt as though he might be losing the game you weren’t even aware you were playing. 

Many nights he spent time thinking about how your soft, shiny, hair would feel when he pulled your head back, locks wound around his claws. What noises your sweet, little, lips might let slip, the sight of your kind eyes widening. 

Would you let him ruin you if he tried? 

The question consumed him as he brought himself back to the sight of his beautiful prey: you. His eyes focused on your radiant presence while your face lit up in delight. You had stumbled upon a beautiful abandoned structure. It appeared this was once a grand gazebo, but time had eroded the marble away. Faint cracks could be seen amongst the vines and foliage that almost concealed it completely from view. 

He watched as you were unable to resist the urge to explore, pushing aside some of the greenery covering the entrance. You stepped inside, your graceful form illuminated by slivers of Heaven’s light, shining like sunlight through the thick canopy surrounding the structure. 

You were almost completely obstructed from the view of anyone who might come along and it sent a shiver down his back—what a delightful thought, to always have you to himself. 

He stalked forward slowly, careful to remain quiet so you would not ruin his little game too early. Hunting for sport was second nature to the demon; hiding amidst the shadows was something Alastor had become quite familiar with. The sight of you blissfully unaware of the potential danger you were in was almost too much to bare; he needed to start the next round of his manipulative little game lest you broke him before he got the chance to break you. 

He materialized behind you, his form becoming more corporeal until he was a solid mass that you bumped into when you took a step back. You let out a most exquisite scream of fear as he startled you and a wide, malicious grin spread across his face. You turned quickly to face him, and he watched as your facial expression melted into relief. He was unsure how he felt about the sensation bubbling in his stomach—he brought you ease. Alastor lived to strike fear into the hearts of others, but he could make an exception—just this once.  

"Oh, it's just you. That's such a relief." You said with a genuine smile. 

"My, my... You are quite a sight for sore eyes. I could just eat you up." Alastor almost purred, his voice thick with his usual filter. Static popped in the air as he stepped closer to you; after such a long hunt, he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"You mean me?" You squeaked in disbelief, insecurity seeping through your voice.

"See here, exactly how fetching I find you, darling." Alastor told you, before grabbing your wrist. 

He guided your soft palm to the hardness barely contained by his trousers, a true test to see how far he could push you. How much you would allow him to greedily take? Would this be the time he finally pushed you too far and you realized the peril you were in, being the object of his dark fascination? 

He watched hungrily as your eyes widened in surprise, a pretty pink tongue darting out to wet your lips. 

“This is all for me?” You asked, voice laced in awe and he wanted to consume you. 

You were a curious creature, a difficult prey to understand. You never gave him the responses he was expecting, and yet always gave him a response he enjoyed. Rather than flee from the evident danger you found yourself in, you seemed quite pleased at his forward and lewd actions—what a foolish girl. 

“Well of course my dear, who else would it be for?” Alastor teased, his voice full of amusement as he gestured to the empty overgrown gazebo. He brought a clawed hand down to cover your own, his large hand dwarfing your much smaller one as he pressed your hand closer to the tent in his pants. He let out a strangled groan at the much-needed contact, his usual composure falling apart every minute he spent in your presence. “The things you do to me, pet. This is all for you, because of you.” 

He thrust his hips up into your touch, chasing your nimble fingers before he allowed himself to regain control of himself. He melted away into the shadows with a quick use of his powers and the warm tension of having him pressed against you was gone. It was amusing to him how evident you made it that you were desperate for his touch. A menacing laugh echoed around the gazebo as he slid up from the pool of shadows at your feet behind you, shoving you back into the siding of the shelter. You fell briefly, your sundress bunching around your hips exposing your cunt and the tiny piece of fabric that covered it from view. 

You were an absolute vision, he noted. He was addicted to this version of you, vulnerable and needy for him and him alone. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, Alastor brought his much larger hand to rest on your leg. His rough scarred skin pressed against your much softer skin, and you shivered against him beautifully. He wondered how long he could stand to do this to you, playing with you simply because he knew you’d let him—could he finally make you snap?

He teasingly brought his hand up your thigh, ghosting a finger along your clothed slit. He swallowed a hungry growl as a fresh round of wetness gushed into your panties at even the faintest touch. Every single stroke, every touch, was methodical and planned—he wanted to watch you come undone. He held himself with tension, holding himself back from ruining you completely. 

You lifted your hips just enough, wordlessly signalling to him just how eager you were. It broke the hold he had over himself, the shred of control he kept in place to protect you. He shredded the flimsy undergarment, letting it drop by your feet as an unusable scrap of fabric. His fingers traced harsh, heavy circles around your swollen clit and it was pure bliss to watch as you threw your head back, releasing a muffled cry of bliss. 

He plunged a dexterous finger into you without warning. A ragged, desperate moan escaped your lips and he watched as your face seemed to glow a bright scarlet in humiliation. He curled his finger inside of you, watching as your body shook for him but it wasn’t enough. He needed to drive his cock deep inside you, to feel your pussy clench around him while you moaned just like that. Despite the fact you should be ashamed, you rutted against him and it was enough to drive the best of men mad—and Alastor was not the best of men by a long shot. 

He pulled his finger out of you, bringing it to his mouth before licking it clean. He swiftly undid his belt, before moving to pull the zipper on his pants down. The sound reverberated in the small hidden gazebo and he watched as you dripped in anticipation for him—he hadn’t hungered like this in centuries. He tugged his trousers down around his firm thighs and his massive cock sprung free. You let out a small whimper as you looked at his cock, a mixture of anticipation and fear shining in your eyes. 

“I can assure you, darling, that it will fit. You’re going to take every single inch of me.” Alastor commanded; the incredulous look in your eyes only spurring him on. 

He watched as your pussy clenched desperately with need around empty air, and his rock-hard cock glistened with precum. You were a marvel to behold. 

“Alastor, please, don’t make me wait any longer. I—I need you.” You admitted with a plea, a blush dusting across your face from the sound of your own needy voice. 

He pushed you further back against the siding of the forgotten structure you had found yourselves in, your back hit the siding with a soft thud. He lifted your leg up to wrap it around his waist as he slotted himself against your dripping pussy, rubbing the swollen head of his member between your folds, before he pushed to be inside of you. 

He moved slowly, inch by inch until his considerable length was seated within you. Your warm walls gripped him tightly and he let out a shaky groan. An aggressive buzz, filled with fizzles and pops, filled the air as he made himself wait, letting you adjust to his large size. His eyes glowed as he gazed down at you fondly. “You’re such a good girl, taking all of me so well. You’re mine now.” He growled possessively, a hand coming up to grip your waist. “Say it, tell me who you belong to.” 

There was a manic edge to his words, a need for you to understand that he owned you. 

“You. I belong to you, Alastor!” You cried out in pleasure, without hesitation, and he picked up his pace in response. You were such a good girl; you knew exactly where you belonged. His hips slammed his cock in and out of you, chasing your delightful cries and screams. 

The final strand of control within him snapped as he looked upon your debauched form. His antlers grew high and heavy above his head, his eyes becoming dials as he lost himself in his desire for you. His cock swelled within you, so large that he feared he might just break you. You released a soft whimper as he felt the head of his cock bumping into your cervix, but rather than push him away, you clawed at him to bring him closer—you were perfection. 

“I never imagined I’d feel so complete being inside you like this, darling.” Alastor confessed, lost in the throes of ecstasy. He brought a hand up, lavishing his attention on your clit as he picked up the pace. He felt your body begin to shake and he knew it wouldn’t be long, he felt you coming undone with every stroke of his digits, every thrust of his colossal member was bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Alastor, don’t stop! I’m getting close!” You pleaded desperately. 

Immediately at your words, he stopped completely. He rested his fingers on your throbbing clit, his dick painfully still inside of your tight heat. You let out a frustrated sob, a lone tear welling up in your eyes and he leaned forward to lick it off your cheek. The sight of you, a desperate and quivering mess was enough to move even the staunchest of sadists. 

“Please, please, please.” You begged, all sense of dignity lost. A tear fell down your cheek and he relished the moment of triumph in his twisted game. The sight of you crying and desperate beneath him brought him a degenerative sense of glee—he needed to make you cry more in the future. “Alastor, I’ve dreamed of this so often! I need to—please let—if I could just cum!” 

“Hmm, I should like to think to think a bright young girl such as yourself could articulate that better, my dear.” He replied, a sadistic smile stretching across his face as he leered down at you. 

“You’re being so cruel.” You cried out, voice dripping with desperation and it fed the hunger deep within him. He had no witty retort to return to your cries—he wanted you to beg. “Please, I’m begging you—I’ve touched myself thinking of you so many times. I never even dreamed you would return my desire. I can’t—I need you to move—to fuck me silly until I cum around your giant cock—please.”

You pleaded sweetly, your voice dripping with desperation and need for him that brought him immense joy and good girls got rewarded. 

“Your pleas are music to my ears pet, I suppose they’ve earned you a reward. You’re so pretty when you beg.” He asserted before resuming his brutal pace. Beautiful euphoric tears fell down your cheeks, painting them so prettily, as he fucked into you. He felt you tighten around him, and in a direct constant to his rough pace, he brought his other hand up to gently cradle your face. He pressed his lips to yours, moaning as your soft lips parted to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. He laid claim to every inch of you he touched. 

“Alastor!” You cried into his mouth, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You collapsed into him, allowing him to support your weight as he continued to fuck into your quivering body. Your cunt clenched deliciously around him as you rocked your hips backwards, chasing the friction he provided desperately. The sight of you so thoroughly debauched combined with the sensation of your walls gripping him tightly sent him over the edge. He shot thick ropes of cum inside of you as he finished with a loud groan, breaking away from the kiss.

The sound of your combined panting and heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent air, and he rested his head in the crook of your neck. “Ma biche, that was even better than I could have possibly imagined.” He praised, mumbling the words into your neck. You both lay intertwined for a while, neither wanting to break the silence and end the moment.

“We should find the others before they find us, but I’d love to do this again.” You said, and he could hear the desperate plea in your voice—good. 

“Of course we will do this again, you belong to me now.” He replied, matter-of-factly. 

He snapped his two fingers together, returning the two of you to your prior state of dress. The mess was gone as if it had never been there, though he loathed to return your undergarments to you. “Shall we, darling?” 

You shot him a contented smile as you linked your arm with his, allowing him to lead you back to where the rest of the group was still enjoying the picnic.

Tag list @cosmiccandydreamer @alastorthirsty @ari-hatake15

[penandswords]

Rima had been scrambling to catch up on everything happening. Now that her own personal matters were handled, it was time to go back to the supportive role she eagerly played.

Her first instinct was to return to the Agency building, and gather bits and pieces of information along the way. That is when her path crossed with Xenna. Who was happy to fill in the gaps and escort her through the long process of getting tabs on people.

Eventually reaching Bakugo, who seemed to be in distress by the time she had gotten there. She didn't know about his heart, but she could see the extent of his injuries.

The emotions, and stress of it all was set aside, and on instinct she moved to grab hold of him in a gentle hug. Xenna just quietly stood back letting her do, what Rima did best.

"Shhhhhhh, It's okay, Shouto is okay." She said it, hand lightly patting his back. Desperate to bring any form of comfort to him.

Meme: Try to break my muse’s heart in a single sentence. Anonymous said: "I'm sorry, Bakugo but... Shouto, he didn't make it... his brother killed him."

Katsuki had survived the war by the skin of his teeth. He hadn't seen Shouto through most of it, and he was admittedly very anxious of what his boyfriend was dealing with. Though, that worry had to be compartmentalized. While fighting for his own life and to protect Izuku and All Might, he couldn't focus on worrying about Shouto. He had to be a hero.

So, when he heard the news, Katsuki paled several shades lighter as his eyes widened.

"No...!" He shook his head hard and declared, "No, you gotta be fuckin' lying!" His eyes already brimmed with tears. "I won't fuckin' believe you until I see him! They just said he won his victory over Dabi!"

He hadn't even gone to the hospital yet. Injuries be damned. He wouldn't go anywhere until he saw Shouto again.

He took several steps forward before his chest began hurting. He was fresh out of "surgery" and had already placed stress on his heart while fighting AFO for the second time. The panic and stress of this "news," was taking its toll, and his breathing became labored. "Shit--!" He placed his hand out against a large piece of rubble to maintain balance.

Other heroes began rushing in to help, but their shouts were just white noise compared to his panic. "Sh-Shouto's not dead! No fuckin' chance...!" he grit out. "I-I'll kick his ass if he let something happen to him!"

[novaursa]

Legacy (dinner with a lion)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: power play

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Tywin sits alone at the head of the table, his fingers steepled as he waits, his expression as unreadable as the darkness pooling around him. The faint rustling of armor and the heavy door opening signals the arrival of his guest, and a faint smirk tugs at Tywin's lips as Petyr Baelish enters, eyes sharp, glinting with his characteristic cunning.

"Lord Baelish," Tywin greets, his voice a quiet command in itself, and he gestures for Petyr to join him. "I trust the journey from King’s Landing was not overly burdensome."

Petyr steps forward with a slight bow, his expression betraying nothing as he takes a seat. "Lord Tywin," he replies smoothly, "one grows accustomed to the roads in these trying times. Though, it is a relief to find oneself back in civilized company."

Tywin nods slightly, acknowledging the thinly veiled compliment, though his gaze remains sharp. "There is much to discuss, Littlefinger. I trust your recent activities in the capital have yielded… profitable results?"

Baelish’s lips curve in a shadow of a smile, his hands folding on the table before him. "Profitable indeed, my lord. The city is ever a place of opportunities for those with an eye keen enough to see them. But I must admit, I did not expect to find you here in Harrenhal… or to hear of a rather unique guest in your company."

Tywin’s expression remains unreadable, though a glint in his eye betrays his satisfaction. "Ah, yes. The rumors travel quickly, I see. It is true. She’s here."

Littlefinger raises an eyebrow, his tone careful. "The sister of Rhaegar Targaryen herself. I’d thought her lost to the North, tucked away under the Starks’ protection."

"The Starks’ protection can only go so far, especially in times such as these." Tywin’s tone is cold, final. "Lady Y/N’s presence here is… fortuitous, and I intend to ensure she remains under Lannister protection from now on."

Petyr’s face shifts, his surprise only barely concealed. "Lannister protection," he repeats, musing over the words, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. "So… I am to assume her role will extend beyond mere ‘protection’?”

Tywin’s lips thin into a faint smile, a calculated gleam in his eyes. "Quite astute, as always, Lord Baelish. Lady Y/N will accompany me back to the capital, where preparations for our union will commence."

For the first time, Petyr’s mask falters, his expression flickering with a trace of genuine surprise. He recovers quickly, smoothing his expression back into one of neutral interest. “Your union?” he asks, as if testing the weight of the words.

"Indeed," Tywin replies, his gaze unwavering. "A union that will serve to secure her position—and mine. A Targaryen, legitimized under Lannister rule, will silence whispers on both sides. There are… strategic benefits to the arrangement."

Petyr’s eyes narrow, the cogs turning in his mind as he weighs this unexpected twist. “A fascinating decision, my lord. I must admit, I didn’t think you the type to take a wife again.”

Tywin’s gaze hardens just slightly. "One must be prepared to make certain sacrifices, Littlefinger. This is more than a mere alliance—it is an investment in the future stability of the realm."

Baelish gives a small nod, masking his surprise with the smooth, charming smile he so often wears. "And who better than you, my lord, to secure such stability." Yet, there’s a glimmer of something deeper in his gaze—curiosity, calculation, perhaps even a hint of envy. The wheels in his mind turn, each possibility shifting into place.

Just then, the door opens again, and Arya steps in quietly, her gaze downcast as she approaches Tywin with practiced caution. She keeps her movements careful, her head bowed, hoping to avoid the sharp eyes of Petyr Baelish. There’s a stiffness in her posture, a wariness that one would notice if looked closely enough—an instinct to stay hidden, out of his direct line of sight.

She clears her throat, addressing Tywin in a low, subdued tone. “The kitchens have been notified, m’lord. They’re preparing dinner for two as you requested.”

Tywin gives a curt nod, a faint note of approval in his voice. “Good. Remember to relay instructions clearly. I don’t tolerate carelessness.”

“Yes, m’lord.” Arya’s reply is measured, steady, and she bows her head again before taking a step back, hoping to blend into the background.

Baelish glances at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, though he says nothing. Tywin’s attention returns fully to him, cutting off any opportunity for deeper scrutiny.

“Now,” Baelish continues, his tone sliding back to its usual ease, though he seems unable to completely mask his curiosity. “Your decision to bring Lady Y/N back to the capital… and to wed her… It’s a bold choice. But surely, there are risks in aligning with a Targaryen, especially with her brother’s allies still stirring trouble in the North.”

Tywin’s gaze sharpens. "Risks are inevitable in any pursuit worth undertaking. Lady Y/N is no mere Targaryen pawn; she has spent her years with the Starks, understanding the value of loyalty and the strength of alliances. She is an asset, one who will be as useful to us as she is beautiful. I would expect you, of all people, to understand the value in seizing such an advantage.”

Littlefinger inclines his head slightly, accepting the reprimand with his usual grace. “Of course, my lord. It’s clear you have considered all angles… as always.”

Tywin’s lips curl into a faint smile, though there’s a coldness in his gaze, an unwavering sense of purpose. “She will remain under our protection, a union that will secure her future and strengthen our own. And rest assured, Lord Baelish—there is nothing I have not accounted for.”

Arya shifts subtly in the background, watching the exchange with quiet intensity, her gaze carefully averted as she fights to remain unnoticed. But one can sense her unease, the tension coiled within her as Baelish’s eyes flit in her direction once more, though Tywin’s commanding presence keeps his curiosity in check.

Baelish clears his throat, breaking the silence. "It seems, then, that Lady Y/N’s fate is sealed, under Lannister protection, as you say. I shall be sure to offer my… congratulations, Lord Tywin.”

Tywin’s response is a mere nod, curt and dismissive, as if the matter were already resolved. “Indeed. There is nothing more to discuss on this subject. And as for Lady Y/N, she will be prepared for what lies ahead, with or without any further interest from others.”

With that, Tywin’s gaze flicks to Arya, signaling her dismissal. "You may go, Ary. And remember—take care to stay out of trouble. I won’t tolerate mistakes.”

Arya nods quickly, mumbling a quiet “Yes, m’lord,” before slipping out of the room, her heart pounding as she escapes Baelish’s prying eyes. She leaves Tywin and Baelish behind, aware that her role here is as dangerous as it is vital, even as the weight of Tywin’s plans settles heavily over Harrenhal, casting shadows that will follow all who stand in his path.

The chamber is warm, filled with the scent of lavender and rosewater, and for a moment, you almost forget where you are. The tub is a luxury you haven’t felt in weeks, perhaps months—hot water, scented oils, and a rare sense of solitude. Yet even as you sink deeper into the warmth, you’re keenly aware of what this bath signifies: preparation. Tywin's plans have already begun, each detail meticulously arranged, as if even your appearance belongs to him now.

After the bath, you’re helped from the water by two servants, silent and efficient as they wrap you in soft, thick cloth. They don’t look you in the eye, their faces carefully composed, trained not to betray any thoughts of their own. You’re led to a chair by the mirror, and another servant—a younger girl with nimble fingers and a gentle touch—begins to work on your hair, combing it slowly, carefully, her movements practiced.

For a time, no one speaks, the only sound the gentle scrape of the comb through your damp hair, the crackle of fire in the hearth, the whisper of fabric as they prepare the gown laid out for you.

Finally, the young girl ventures a quiet comment, her voice respectful yet tinged with a hint of curiosity. “My lady… you have beautiful hair. Unusual, like silver.”

You meet her gaze in the mirror, offering a polite smile. “Thank you,” you murmur, though the compliment feels hollow, an echo of a different life. In the North, your hair had set you apart, a reminder of your Targaryen blood, a mark of both your family’s glory and ruin. And here, in Harrenhal, that same hair becomes another detail in Tywin’s plan, something to be arranged and polished for presentation.

The girl continues her work, separating strands to braid, her fingers working with delicate precision. She doesn’t ask further questions, sensing perhaps that this is not the place for conversation, or perhaps trained to keep her thoughts hidden.

As she finishes a braid and moves to another, she glances at the woman standing near the door—an older servant, clearly in charge of overseeing your preparation. The woman nods, as if giving silent permission, and the girl reaches for a small box, retrieving something that catches the firelight—a thin golden thread, gleaming against the dull stone of the chamber.

Your breath catches. “What is that?” you ask, though you already know.

The older woman steps forward, her expression unreadable. “Lord Tywin’s orders, my lady. A touch of gold, to complement your gown.” She gestures toward the dress, a rich shade of crimson with subtle golden embroidery, unmistakably Lannister colors. “He thought it fitting.”

You bite back the urge to scoff, keeping your expression neutral. “Fitting,” you repeat softly, watching as the girl weaves the golden thread through your braid with painstaking care. The irony is not lost on you—this thread, this symbol of Lannister wealth and power, woven into your Targaryen hair, a mockery of your heritage. Even here, in this small detail, Tywin’s influence surrounds you, binding you to his house in every visible way.

The girl glances up, sensing your unease. She hesitates, fingers still for a moment, before speaking in a low, cautious voice. “Is… is it not to your liking, my lady?”

You force a small, restrained smile. “It’s… a thoughtful touch,” you reply, keeping your tone steady. “One must always consider appearances, after all.” The words feel brittle, like glass on the verge of shattering, yet the girl seems relieved, resuming her work with renewed focus.

As she finishes, she steps back to admire her handiwork, eyes bright with pride. She’s braided your hair into an intricate design, the golden thread glinting subtly, woven through each plait like veins of sunlight in silver. It’s beautiful, in a way—refined, elegant, and utterly foreign. The girl beams, clearly satisfied.

“It suits you, my lady,” she says, a note of admiration in her voice.

You look at yourself in the mirror, studying the unfamiliar reflection. The gown clings to you in shades of red and gold, Lannister colors draped over Targaryen blood. And the braids, laced with golden thread, feel like a chain, binding you in a way more powerful than any metal could.

“Fitting, indeed,” you murmur under your breath, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of your lips. To anyone else, this might look like elegance, like opulence. To you, it feels like an ironic jest, as if Tywin himself were mocking your heritage, stripping it away strand by strand.

The older woman watches you carefully, sensing the tension but saying nothing. “Lord Tywin values appearances,” she says finally, her voice neutral, almost mechanical. “A mark of respect, my lady, to make you feel at ease.”

“At ease,” you echo, a quiet scoff escaping despite yourself. “Yes, I’m sure his intentions are nothing but respectful.”

The woman says nothing, only inclines her head in a gesture of polite acknowledgment. There’s no room here for rebellion, no space for protest, and she knows it. Her role is simply to prepare you, to mold you into the image Tywin desires. To make you presentable, obedient, fit for his plans.

Finally, they finish, the servants stepping back to assess their work one last time. The young girl looks at you, her eyes shining with pride as if she’s just created a masterpiece. “You look beautiful, my lady,” she says softly, a note of genuine admiration in her voice.

You manage a tight smile. “Thank you.” The words feel hollow, an acknowledgment of her work rather than any reflection of your own thoughts. As you rise, smoothing the folds of the gown, you catch a final glimpse of yourself in the mirror—transformed, adorned in Lannister colors, the last threads of Targaryen fire hidden beneath layers of Tywin’s calculated opulence.

They lead you to the door, and the weight of what lies ahead settles over you like a shroud. Every braid, every glint of gold, a reminder that Tywin’s influence is woven into every part of this encounter. You steel yourself, breathing deeply as you prepare to face him, feeling each golden thread in your hair like the bars of a cage.

The servant by the door opens it, bowing low as she gestures for you to proceed. “My lady,” she murmurs, voice soft with a hint of reverence. You take one last glance at the mirror, the reflection now foreign, then step forward, leaving the chamber behind.

Tonight, you wear the colors of the lion, but the blood of the dragon remains, burning beneath the surface, silent yet unyielding. And as you make your way to the private dinner Tywin has orchestrated, you cling to that thought, holding onto it as your only reminder of who you truly are.

The dining hall Tywin has selected for tonight is secluded, almost intimate, a stark contrast to the grand banquet rooms of the Red Keep. The servants lead you to a table set for two, where Tywin sits waiting, his gaze fixed upon you the moment you enter. He surveys you with his usual piercing scrutiny, noting the golden thread woven through your hair, the crimson gown that drapes over your form—an image carefully crafted under his direction.

As you approach the table, your eyes catch the carefully arranged plates, and you feel a jolt of surprise. It’s a meal reminiscent of days long past—rich dishes that you once enjoyed as a princess, delicacies served at your family’s table in the Red Keep. Each plate a small piece of memory pulled from a life you’ve long since lost.

The first dish is braised quail in honeyed wine, garnished with sprigs of rosemary and roasted chestnuts. Next, a bowl of spiced chickpea stew with saffron and sweet currants, the same recipe your mother once had the cooks prepare for Rhaegar’s nameday feast. A platter of thick slices of duck, glazed with honey and dusted with ground cinnamon, sits at the center, flanked by roasted figs and fresh pomegranate seeds. And beside your plate, a familiar goblet of chilled summer wine, the floral scent wafting up as it mingles with the rest of the meal.

Tywin’s gaze follows your eyes as you take in each dish, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I trust the menu is to your liking?” he asks, voice cool and unruffled, though there’s a note of satisfaction beneath the surface.

You settle yourself across from him, lifting the goblet and taking a measured sip, the sweet wine coating your tongue in flavors that feel almost foreign after so long. “It seems your memory is as sharp as ever,” you reply, setting the goblet down. “Or perhaps I should say, disturbingly accurate.”

Tywin inclines his head, his gaze unyielding. “One does not achieve much in this world by forgetting details… especially not ones that are so important.”

Your lips curl into a faint, sardonic smile. “Important,” you echo, glancing down at the spread before you. “Yes, I suppose there’s value in knowing how to replicate the past.”

A ghost of amusement crosses his face, and he leans back slightly, watching you with those steady, calculating eyes. “I thought it fitting to make you comfortable, Y/N. You are, after all, accustomed to a certain… standard.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead selecting a piece of quail, savoring the tender, honeyed meat. The taste is perfect, achingly familiar, yet tinged with bitterness. “Comfortable,” you repeat, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “And yet, the golden thread in my hair, the crimson gown… it seems comfort isn’t the only thing you had in mind.”

Tywin’s smirk grows, his gaze unwavering. “You always had a sharp tongue. I appreciate honesty, even if it borders on impertinence.”

You place your fork down, fixing him with a steady gaze. “I’m not here to amuse you, Lord Tywin. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

For a moment, he merely watches you, a faint glimmer of amusement lingering in his eyes. “I didn’t bring you here to pretend, Y/N,” he replies, his voice laced with that unyielding authority he wears like armor. “I brought you here because you are a valuable asset. Because, regardless of your feelings on the matter, our union will strengthen both our positions.”

You scoff softly, not bothering to hide the disdain curling in your voice. “A union?” you echo, your tone sharp. “Forgive me if I find it difficult to see myself as anything but a tool in your grand design. What I think, what I want, seems irrelevant to you.”

Tywin raises an eyebrow, clearly unruffled by your bluntness. “What you think does matter, more than you may realize. I respect intelligence, even if it comes with… resistance.” He lifts his own goblet, regarding you over the rim. “But you would be wise to remember that, in this world, power is the only true form of freedom. I’m offering you that power.”

You feel a bitter laugh rising in your throat, barely holding it back. “Power,” you repeat, your voice laced with irony. “The illusion of control, perhaps. Yet you know as well as I that this marriage would bind me to you, to your family’s name and interests. I would simply be another piece on your board.”

A flicker of something passes across his face—amusement, irritation, it’s hard to tell. “You are correct in that it binds you,” he replies smoothly. “But you are wrong to think that it would leave you powerless. The position of Lady Lannister, bound to both the lion and dragon, is one of influence. You would be free to wield it, to shape it as you see fit.”

You take another sip of wine, letting the silence stretch between you, refusing to yield to his steady, piercing gaze. “So, in your mind, this is generosity?” you ask finally, the skepticism clear in your voice. “A benevolent act, done out of kindness?”

“Kindness?” Tywin repeats, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No, Y/N. This has nothing to do with kindness. It has everything to do with legacy—yours, mine, ours. Together, we can reshape the foundations of this realm. I thought you, of all people, would understand the value of that.”

Your jaw tightens, and you set down your goblet, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. “And do you think I’m so eager to cast aside the name I was born to? To let it be consumed by yours, to be dressed in red and gold and paraded as your prize?”

Tywin’s gaze sharpens, but his expression remains composed, almost amused. “You think yourself diminished by the name Lannister?” he asks, his voice quiet yet cutting. “You are mistaken. Names change. Blood, however, does not. You would do well to remember that.”

The statement hangs in the air, a reminder of the power struggle woven into every word between you. For a moment, you study him, this man who seems both captivated by your resistance and determined to conquer it. His amusement, his tolerance of your sharp words—it is almost as if he relishes the challenge you present.

“Perhaps you find my bluntness inconvenient,” you say, choosing each word carefully, your voice cool. “But make no mistake, Lord Tywin: I am not some empty vessel to be filled with your ambitions. I am a Targaryen, and that will not change, no matter how tightly you try to bind me.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that somehow both soothes and chills you. “Good,” he says, surprising you. “I would not want a weak-willed bride. It’s your fire that interests me, Y/N. You may resent this arrangement, but I know that you, too, have ambition.”

You hesitate, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t expected. He’s not wrong, and he knows it. You’ve spent your life as a toy in others’ games, yet a part of you longs for something more. Tywin sees it, and he knows how to wield that knowledge.

“If you think flattery will convince me,” you say, voice softer now but still guarded, “you’ll find it a difficult task.”

He merely lifts his goblet again, taking a slow sip before responding. “Flattery?” he echoes, an eyebrow arching. “I don’t waste time with it. I’m simply offering you a choice—join me willingly, and wield the influence you deserve. Or resist and remain a tool of others’ ambitions, a relic of a fallen dynasty.”

His words settle over you like a weight, cold and unrelenting. This is Tywin’s game—a careful blend of power and persuasion, of promises and threats. And though you’d rather cast aside the gown, the golden thread in your hair, the Lannister colors binding you like chains, you know that this is the hand you’ve been dealt.

For tonight, you’ll play along, if only to see what more Tywin Lannister will reveal. You lift your goblet, the bitterness easing just slightly, and meet his gaze across the table, the sharpness in your eyes matching his own.

“To legacy, then,” you say, voice cool, raising your glass in a half-hearted toast. Tywin’s smile deepens, as if sensing the smallest flicker of surrender.

“To legacy,” he replies, his voice as steady and unyielding as the stone walls of Harrenhal, sealing your uneasy alliance with the clink of crystal and the promise of a future neither of you fully controls.

Arya slipped down the dimly lit corridor, her footsteps silent as a shadow. She’d left the kitchens moments ago, her heart pounding with the thrill of sneaking away from her tasks and Tywin’s ever-watchful gaze. She moved carefully, glancing over her shoulder to be sure she wasn’t followed. Finally, she ducked through a small doorway that led her toward the lower halls, where she hoped to find Hot Pie and Gendry.

After winding her way through the damp stone corridors, Arya spotted them near the flickering light of a sconce, their backs pressed against the wall as they whispered together. She crept up, tapping Hot Pie on the shoulder, causing him to jump.

“Ary! Thought you’d gotten caught,” he hissed, relaxing once he realized it was her.

Arya grinned, her grey eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and determination. “Not yet,” she whispered back, casting a glance down the hall. “I’ve got a knack for not getting caught.”

Gendry chuckled softly, crossing his arms. “And where’ve you been? Thought Tywin had you running about all day.”

Arya nodded, her expression sobering. “I’ve been doing what he wants, yeah. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Hot Pie shuffled his feet, glancing nervously between Arya and Gendry. “Ary,” he began, voice low, “is it true? That he’s got a… you know, a Targaryen locked up here?”

Arya’s expression softened at the mention, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face. She’d been careful not to speak too much about it, knowing the danger it might bring. But these were her friends, her brothers in everything but blood. She could trust them.

“Yes, it’s true,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “Y/N… she’s like a sister to me.” Her voice grew stronger, her gaze fierce. “And we’re going to help her escape.”

Hot Pie’s eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by her resolve. “But… but she’s a Targaryen,” he stammered. “Aren’t they… dangerous?”

Arya’s gaze turned steely, and she crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. “She’s not dangerous, Hot Pie. She’s family. More than most, anyway.” She looked away, her thoughts drifting back to the days they spent together in Winterfell—the shared laughter, the stolen moments of peace in a world that always seemed to be on the verge of war. “If anyone deserves freedom, it’s her.”

Gendry glanced between them, his brow furrowing as he took in her words. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he said, voice quiet but understanding. “You want us to help her escape, along with ourselves?”

Arya nodded, her jaw set with determination. “She doesn’t belong here, locked up under Tywin’s watch. Once we get out, we’re taking her with us.”

Hot Pie shuffled his feet nervously, casting a wary glance down the hall as if expecting Tywin himself to appear out of the shadows. “But… how? Tywin keeps a close eye on everything. Even if we try, there’s no guarantee she’ll get out in one piece.”

Arya looked him dead in the eye, her tone fierce and unyielding. “We’ll find a way. She deserves better than this. And if there’s even the smallest chance we can get her out, we’re taking it.”

Gendry nodded, giving Arya a supportive look. “I’m in,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “If she’s as important to you as you say, we’ll help her. But we’ll need a plan.”

A flicker of relief crossed Arya’s face, but her voice remained steady. “We’ll think of one. Just keep your eyes open, and stay close. The moment we see an opportunity, we’ll act.”

Hot Pie sighed, shifting uncomfortably but nodding all the same. “Alright, Ary. If you say so.”

She gave them both a small, grateful smile, feeling the weight of her resolve settle more firmly on her shoulders. She knew the risk they were taking, the danger they faced. But for Y/N, for her sister-in-heart, it was worth it.

As they huddled closer, discussing possible ways to slip past the guards and navigate the castle’s many corridors, Arya’s eyes caught a familiar figure in the distance. The shadows played tricks in the dim light, but she recognized the silhouette of Jaqen H’ghar, his silent, calculating gaze lingering on her for just a moment before he turned and disappeared around a corner.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. Jaqen was mysterious, unpredictable—a man of many faces and secrets. And while he’d saved her life once, she wasn’t sure what he’d make of this plan. With a last, wary glance, she turned back to her friends, ignoring the figure as best she could.

“Alright,” she said in a hushed voice, returning her focus to Hot Pie and Gendry. “We keep to the shadows, stay out of sight, and don’t get caught. And when the time comes, we get her out of here. No matter what.”

With nods from her friends, Arya felt a surge of determination. She didn’t know how, or even when, they would make their move. But one thing was certain—they wouldn’t leave Harrenhal without Y/N.

[tatisources]

𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒

𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 - a group of friends wake up one morning after some particularly vivid nightmares only to find strange marks on their bodies and realizing they all saw the same killer in their nightmares. from then on, they became afraid to sleep, discovering that people were being killed in their sleep by some strange entity.

bonus: make one of them be able to walk in dream and team up with the dream to fight back the entity.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐲𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 - one year after the gruesome murders of all the residents of the house, a family move-in with their children. over the following weeks, their domestic life begins a sharp decline, family members being uncharacteristically volatile and abusive, strange incidents happening to the children, one of them having an imaginary friend who seems malevolent. incidents escalate and information about the house is found, revealing the long terrific history within its wall.

𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 - a group of friends rent a remote cabin in the woods. one of them ventures out to hunt and accidentally shoots a hermit that had been infected by a mystery illness and says nothing to his friends. when the hermit shows up at the cabin, he's refused help. one by one, they start to show signs of the illness and discover that their source of water has been contaminated.

alternative: two children take water from a source that has been contaminated and sell lemonade to town folks, propagating the illness further.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 - it's the last operating week of a once grand hotel and only two employees remain, both fascinated by the haunting history of the hotel, particularly by one bride who hung herself in her room and the fact that her body was hidden in the basement by the owners. only a few guests remains, all of them stranger than the others. After an unexplained incident, one of them starts to record paranormal activity in the hotel, leading to a series of accidents and deaths among the remaining guests.

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 - a couple has recently moved into a new house with their children. one day, one of the children ventures into the attic and where he mets a mysterious entity. the next day, the child slips into a coma. after months and still no explanation, the family brings back their child home and soon after, strange incidents start to happen, leading them to declare the house haunted and moving out. however, the paranormal activities follow them to their new home and a team of parapsychologists and mediums are called, leading them to discover a malevolent entity close to their comatose son. it's discovered that one of the parent once had such events happen to them and they use his abilities to bring back their son from the further, where he's being held by the malevolent entity.

𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - decades after a group of children defeat some evil in their small town, some disturbing event happen again. only one of them remained in their hometown and following the return of the entity that traumatized them years ago, the others are called back to honor the promise they once made to kill the entity if it ever came back.

bonus: one of them has visions of their deaths if they ever fail to fulfill the oath they swore as children.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 - having recently moved to a small town, muse a becomes fascinated with a biker gangs and muse b, a member. muse a is being introduced to the gang and start to get tested by them in order to become trustworthy. muse a starts to undergo a transformation where the smell of food repulse them and starts to be attracted to blood and it becomes clear they are changing.

alternative: muse a and muse b are both humans and one of them wants to become part of the biker gang and the other tries to save them.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭 - following a severe thunderstorm, muse a and muse b notice a thick fog slowly creeping over. while buying grocery, a neighbor quickly enter the shop and warns everyone that something is in the fog. they watch as someone else gets taken over by it and stay inside the store with others for a day. religious folks within the store takes this opportunity to recruit people to their belief and a cult slowly organize, deciding that sacrifices must be given to the fog to appease it.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 - following the stillborn birth of their son, muse a is encouraged to adopt an orphan newborn while muse b is unconscious, replacing their stillborn child by this one. as the child grows, disturbing events start to happen around the family and they are eventually contacted by someone who had been involved in their adopted child birth, declaring them the antichrist. muse b start to think that their son is evil and fears them.

alternative: writing one of the parents and the outside person involved in the birth.

𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐧 - after their daughter is stillborn, the parents of two children decide to adopt an orphan. one of their children embraces her but the other is hesitant toward them. slowly, their adopted child starts to show disturbing behavior, scaring the children and making one of the parents doubt the other.

𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭 - a family living in small community starts to experiences strange incidents following their youngest child issuing a warning that they are there. the incidents seems benign at first but soon grow in intensity leading to injuries. a parapsychologist is called to the house and reveal that it's under attack by many different entities, eventually discovering that they are drawn to one of the children's life force, even going as far as using her to stop other spirits from crossing over.

alternative: writing the parapsychologists and mediums investigating the house instead of writing the family.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 - following an economic collapse, a new political party is voted into place, and instated the purge, a yearly event where all crime is permitted by 12 hours. decades later, crime is practically gone and the purge night has become a a celebrated event by many. muse a and muse b are just trying to survive the night.

𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 - muse a, a true crime writer, moves into a new house with muse b and their children. unknown to everyone but muse a, the house was home to a tragedy that killed all family members decades ago, in the hope of writing a bestseller about the event. one night, muse a finds a box of gruesome family movies. muse a notices strange symbols and begins to research each event, discovering that a child went missing at each killing.

𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝 - one day, ten women wake up pregnant despite none of them trying. all ten children are born at the same time, five boys and five girls, except one is stillborn, making his pair partner alone. all the other children act the same, as if ruled by one entity, and show no personality. as they age, they start to show signs of paranormal abilities that are being used only to harm others. muse a and muse b could be parents or one of them could be the lone child grown up.

[pxison]

Well, he couldn't say he didn't ask for this now did he? It still infuriated him to no end that a pirate rat would insult him in such a way but he was the one that started this and so he would have to guarantee he'd be the one to finish it. As far as he knew there was nothing special about a man that cut the toes off of others than a sign something was psychologically wrong with him and so eyeing the heart pirate head to toe distastefully, he continued to push for more.

"Is that so? You think hair as plain as yours has anything on royalty? I doubt it's as well kept as mine." It was hard to tell how well the other man took care of his pompadour, but Niji made sure to show off how much his flowed and shone just the right amount in the sunlight. At this point one could say they were having their own special dick measuring contest or rather, pompadour measuring contest and Niji was confident his was bigger and far grander.

He wasn't afraid of painting a target on his back and at this point he'd completely dropped the mimicry act finding the trick overused at this point. Much as it angered this Darter guy, he'd much prefer using his own voice instead. His already short temper could not withstand further insults and so a flash of homicidal intentions came over him just then.

"You should watch your tongue you filthy pirate before you lose it! Otherwise-" And he lets sparks crackle off his hands threateningly at the trail off. "I can make you dance a little. Now wouldn't that be fun?" The only threat that might make Niji considering this childish game no longer worth it was if Trafalgar himself showed up, otherwise he wanted to see how far he can go before his hair twin finally snapped.

//@ikkaku-of-heart

@pxison asked Darter: (here comes Niji to mess with Darter a lil) - "So." Already, the prince alters his voice a bit to sound all too similarly to the man whose hair mirrored his own. Why? To start shit of course! "What kind of stupid moniker is 'Middle Toe Murderer' anyways?" Unprompted

If there was one thing Darter hated, it was copycats. He'd spent years having to hide his true self, conforming in the daylight to society's standards and playing a part. Becoming the Middle Toe Murderer was the only way he'd felt like he'd been able to stand out. To have his own identity. To be unique. Oh, he'd had a copycat or two during his serial killer days, and it had never failed to make his blood boil. He'd always made sure to hunt down those impersonators quickly and handle them viscerally. Darter had refused to lose the one thing he had that let him stand out. The Middle Toe Murderer moniker might have sounded silly, but removing the middle toe of his victims made him stand out. Made him feel noticed and alive.

Ironically, he was pretty sure it was the only thing that kept him anything close to sane.

Only when he'd joined the Heart Pirates, where he'd been able to be authentic and himself and still be accepted; had been able to be happy. True, he'd had to wear a uniform exactly like most of the rest of the crew, but he'd still been able to stand out with his hair, his smile, his skills, and his personality.

So it instantly grated on him when the Germa 66, who already had the same hairstyle as him, came over and copied his voice. Insulted his moniker. Of course, as a Northerner, Darter already was prone to disliking the Germa Kingdom and Germa 66 on principle, but this one? Ohhhh Vinsmoke Niji had just managed to make the trademark friendly smile actually drop from his face.

"A name I earned by removing the middle toe of my victims. What kind of name is 'Electric Shock Blue'?" Darter shot back, gritting his teeth. "It sounds like a crayon name. Is that how you got it? Judge just picked it out of a box of school supplies? And isn't your brother 'Sparking Red'? Makes sense for the second-born to have a second-best, copycat name." Was he being petty? Hell yes, but he didn't care in the slightest. It was either that or attempting to add the second prince to his kill count. That, and it helped him ignore just how unnerving the impersonation of his voice really was.

Glaring at Niji's hair for a moment, he added, "Just like your pompadour's a second-best version of mine, 'Doppelganger Blue'."

[cutieeva]

Enslave

Female reader

Warnings : Love bombing. Power abuse. Threats. Coercion. Molestation. Profanity languages. Slut shaming. Rape. Violence. Framing. Attempt home invasion. Molestation.

SYNOPSIS

❛ ผู้หญิง ❜ Muse and Seduction, it is a well known name of the most Luxurious Adult Entertainment Complexe in Thailand also the least respected profession (Y/N) works in, not aware it will soon turn into a memory of calm before the storm in form of a man.

Thailand, a country known for its vibrant culture, rich history, and breathtaking landscapes, also has a complex and multifaceted adult entertainment industry. While it's true that this industry is visible and widespread, it's essential to approach the topic with sensitivity and nuance. From bustling cities like Bangkok and Pattaya to tourist destinations like Phuket and Chiang Mai, adult entertainment venues and services are indeed present. These can range from go-go bars and massage parlors to street workers and karaoke bars offering private rooms to many more and despite the shame and stigma associated with these works, many women still engage in this profession due to limited job opportunities and economic necessity. The pay can be more convenient and immediate compared to other respectable jobs, which may require years of education and experience to achieve similar financial stability.

Alike to the above explanation (Y/N) also choose to work in such environment—All for money and did she succced in having what she wanted ? Yes because the place she works in is called Muse and Seduction, one of the top Adult Entertainment Complexes— it's a adult entertainment where almost all of the sexual activities could be done, separately and wonderfully. It has sections of Cabaret : where dancers perform for their male guests. Private room also known as Lounges : where sex could be given if requested and money are fullfilled. Strips clubs : where adult dances or lap dances available. Sex clubs : only available to VIP members for the privacy of their group sex, fetishes activities and message parlor : to offer erotic messages or intimate service and adult theater : to watch porn without shame and more sections based on how well the adult entertainment complexes is going and her complex has it all that even surprised the past self of (Y/N) who didn't had the slightest idea of such things exist—no she wasn't naïve rather in awe to have so varieties like a deck of cards laid out before her. Despite its grandeur, the complex remained hidden from the public eye, accessible only to those who knew where to look letting her past self marveled at how seamlessly it blended into the surrounding landscape, a testament to the discretion and secrecy that shrouded the adult entertainment industry.

Quickly that time she entered not for the sex work she thought could only pay her rents and shield her from her runaway abusive parents rather at the Cabaret where dancers danced contrast to not being the most skilled or pretty, she impressed the manager with her passion and raw talent. Offered a job on the spot, she found a refuge and purpose in the vibrant world of dance and before she knew it she sat on the position of manager of Cabaret section where she once only stared and worked hard.

"(Y/N) !" The (H/C) haired woman turn around at her name call meeting the eyes of the old general manager who's wiping his sweat yet a smile plastered on his lips.

"Yes, sir". Politely she asked having a hint of some excitement news to be heard noticing the uncontrollable smile and fire on his eyes.

The air was electric as he made the announcement, his face splitting into a wide, toothy grin. "Today, a very, very, very special guest is coming!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious yet puzzling.

She raised an eyebrow, her head tilting slightly to one side. VVVIP visitors weren't uncommon in their establishment, but the level of excitement radiating from him was unusual. Whoever this guest was, they must be incredibly influential and wealthy to warrant such anticipation.

Her (E/C) eyes watched him practically bounce with energy, a shiver ran down her spine. She couldn't shake the feeling that this visit might bring trouble, particularly for the women who work here. A nagging sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach, her mind racing with the possibility that someone might be coerced into doing something against their will.

"Understood". She dry chuckle, darting eyes to her pratice hall and to the general manager.

"That's why you also need to perform today". Ah ! No wonder he came to her because despite being a manager she still performs for the double money she is paid.

"So the party is hosted in here ?" Insinuating her sections making the general manager nod.

"Yes, unfortunately they want entertainment to be amused not pleasure". The grin turn into a scoff merely thought of lost profits, his eyes clouding with disappointment.

"They ? Didn't you just said one guest ?" (Y/N) was confused.

"Oh—actually it's group of men from a wealthy company but in mist of that is the golden egg would be". Oh ! She sink the information so rather than entertainment, it's to secure a lucrative deal. The company was willing to do whatever it took to secure success. What a classic tactic.

"Okay, please state the time, date and all the needed details". He nod giving her the paper written all the instruction. "Well then I goona go". Waving gently she enter her dance hall.

Tomorrow at 8:30 pm with Chinese Silk dance theme.

"So, the man is Chinese ? Or have those liking ?" She thought so for better she would single out the Chinese girls just for their safety to not caught the eyes of animalistic men.

Night descended, darkness enveloped the world, like an inky shroud suffocating all in its grasp. Yet, the moon, now a silver crescent in the sky, cast an ethereal glow, as if to defy the all-consuming shadows. Stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across the velvet expanse, their gentle sparkle a beacon of hope.

(Y/N) stood transfixed, her gaze riveted on the clock's ticking hands, mere moments away from striking 8:30 pm. She inhaled deeply, the air filling her lungs like a promise of new beginnings. "Today has to be perfect" she whispered to herself, a fervent wish born of hope and determination.

In her mind's eye, she envisioned a evening unfolding with grace and harmony, each moment a delicate brushstroke on the canvas of time. No embarrassing missteps, no unwilling participants, just a gentle, pleasant tone that would soothe the souls. The clock's ticking grew louder, a countdown to a symphony of perfection, as (Y/N) steeled herself for the moments to come, her heart beating in rhythm with the night's dark beauty.

"Beauties. Everything has to be perfect and do not worry I am here to protect you okay ?" Once more she reassure the women standing in a row each one a vision of elegance and mystery. Golden jewels encircled their arms, a radiant contrast to their varied skin tones, like sunlight dancing across a canvas of diverse beauty. The traditional Chinese dresses, with their revealing midriffs and flowing slit sleeves, seemed to shimmer in the soft light, as if the very fabric was alive. Their face however remained hidden behind delicate veils, a whispered promise of secrets and allure. The veils, like silken whispers, caressed their skin, casting an air of enchantment and subtle mystery seemed to embody the essence of ancient Chinese beauty, where subtlety and restraint whispered tales of untold stories.

"Yes mam". Each one in unison spoke with confidence knowing their mentor for several years.

"Hey (Y/N) I needed—" A man holding few papers walked in the practice hall when he frozen in his root staring at (Y/N) who turn around giving his amber eyes the look of her dress mirroring the several women however he appeared to be mesmerized by her.

"Oh manager Somchai, is there anything I can help you with ?" Jewels trembled with each her step, unleashing a cascade of sparkling light, like tiny stars waltzing across her (S/C) skin.

"Oh—Ah—I-I-I-I forget". Few laughes escape from the women behind (Y/N) watching the bar manager make a fool out of himself.

"Hush ! It's unladylike". In swept the crowd held their laugh at their own manager's scold yet few roll their eyes knowing it was harmless. "Excuse them". (Y/N) apologies to Somchai who shake his head still unable to part his lips and hide the tip of blush on his ears.

"So, how can I help ?" She repeated holding her own smile, catching his flustered face.

"I-I— it's the list of drinks that the guests should buy for our profits". Quickly he shoved the paper on her hand surprising her and himself at the rough action. "I-I am sorry". Closing his eyes, his tense hands clap together in forgiveness along the rigid fingers intertwined, forming a tight knot, like a prayer offered to the heavens. The sudden, earnest movement was almost comical, yet endearing, making her giggle at the sweet, silly gesture. The contrast between his serious expression and the childish motion only added to the charm, rendering her helpless against the tide of amusement that swept over her.

"W-what happen ?" The way his innocent doe eyes stare at her never would anyone unaware of his profession could assume he works in an adult industry.

"Nothing. You are so endearing". And as she expected his entire face burst into flame creating a teasing ohh from the women who ship them together hard earn a harsh "Shut up". From their senior.

"Thank you". Finally without stuttering he smiled and part his lips to speak when the clock's loud tick reverberated through the air, signaling the precise moment of 8:30 pm.

"Oh—I am sorry I must go". Swiftly she offered apologies, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't be". He disagree, silently encouraging her at their eye contact making her smile wider. Without anymore utters she led the procession of women, their golden jewels glinting in the soft light. At the threshold, (Y/N) paused, her slender fingers fluttering as she donned her own veil at the last moment, the delicate fabric whispering against her skin.

"Everyone ready to go ?"

"Yes". They mutter lightly. (Y/N) take a deep, calming breath as she pushed open the door, and a warm, golden light enveloped them, like a gentle caress. The room was aglow with sensual ambiance, the soft glow of table lamps and floor lights casting a hypnotic spell. The guests, already seated on plush, velvety sofas, turned to regard the newcomers, their faces bathed in the warm, golden radiance. Beers chilled on an opulent, dark-wood table, adorned with delicate, crystal glasses, reflecting the soft light like tiny, shimmering mirrors.

Soft, melodic music whispered through the air, weaving a subtle spell of relaxation and indulgence, as (Y/N) and her companions glided into the room, their veils shimmering like moonlit mist, their long, flowing sleeves rustling softly, like leaves in an autumn breeze. The atmosphere was alive with anticipation, the scent of perfume and the promise of mystery hanging heavy in the air, like the whispered promise of a secret shared among friends.

"Thank you for your services. We shall begin". her voice dripped in honeyed sweetness greeted the awaiting men as her eyes swept across the room, scanning for the golden man the general manager spoken of and then, in an instant, her gaze landed on him—an aged man, with a stomach as round as a full moon, adorned in the finest, most lavish attire, from the glittering gold chain around his neck to the diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist.

Her eyes narrowed. "He must be the one". Sighing deeply she bowed gracefully with a subtle, enigmatic smile, her body begin dancing like unfolding a lotus flower, petals of movement swirling around her. The men's screams of delight and admiration crescendoed, their eyes aglow with hunger and desire, yet she remained an untouchable, ethereal vision. Her dance was a masterful symphony of seduction and grace, each step, each gesture, a testament to her skill and artistry.

As she danced, she wove in and out of the tables, pouring wine with a flourish, her hands moving in tandem with the other women, who mirrored her movements with precision. The liquid gold flowed like a river, filling the glasses, as she continued to enthrall her audience, her body swaying, twirling, and bending in impossible ways.

Regardless of the provocative nature of her dance, she maintained an air of detachment, her skin never once touching the eager hands that reached out to her. Her eyes, like a hawk's, scanned the room, ever vigilant, ensuring none of the men dared touch her or her junior companions. The other women, too, seemed to be under her protection, their eyes locked on hers, moving in perfect synchrony, a testament to their trust and loyalty. The men, entranced by the spectacle, remained at a safe distance, their longing and desire hanging in the air like a palpable mist, yet they knew better than to cross the unspoken boundary. She was a queen, a goddess, and they mere mortals, privileged to witness her glory and forbidden to touch.

Soon the music reached its crescendo, (Y/N)'s dance came to a smooth, graceful close, like a summer breeze gently caressing the skin. The room, electrified by her performance, exhaled a collective sigh of relief and admiration. Though some of the men, entranced by her beauty, had attempted to brush their hands against hers, they had respectfully refrained from any further advances, acknowledging the unspoken boundary. The VVVIP guest, too, had maintained his dignity, his eyes never leaving (Y/N)'s face, yet his hands remained clasped together, a indication to his self-control. With a satisfied smile, he raised his glass in a silent toast, and drank, savoring the moment.

As the final notes of the music faded away, (Y/N) and her companions bowed, their movements fluid and synchronized and they departed like a gentle whisper, a soft breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers, leaving the men to ponder the memory of their enchanting performance.

Free-spirited and unencumbered, (Y/N) and her companions walk outside the hallway, sharing laughter and whispers echoing down the corridor.

"Today was fun".

"How amazing".

"Thankfully they knew the rules to not mess even the VVVIP was respectful unlike some of the others".

"This is my first time performing Chinese dance ?"

"Really ? Well I am Chinese but never did I also danced so sensually".

"But (Y/N) was best".

"Of course she would be when she is our senior".

Their joys whispered to one another filling (Y/N)'s ears in relief nothing unfortunate occur to one of the women and god forbid— to her. Wiping the line of sweat from her forehead she walked to their resting room passing through the living hall where main events of dances held.

"HELP ! HELP—". A cry of help echoed the room following with a loud thud alike to a slap making all the women wince.

"What was that ?"

"Isn't it sound like a woman ?"

"Also a slap ?"

"I am scared".

A knot of unease twisted in (Y/N)'s stomach, like a pit of pooling darkness, as her mind conjured the worst assumptions. A envision of woman, desperate and trapped, crying out for help in a place where hope seemed lost. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and without hesitation.

"Girls ! Go !". She commanded her workers to retreat to their quarters, their faces etched with concern.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) steeled herself, her determination burning brighter than her fear. She barged into the lavish hall, the doors swinging open with a soft crash, like a declaration of war. The room, once filled with laughter and music, now seemed tainted, its opulence mocking her. Her eyes scanned the space, searching for the source of her unease, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.

Until her (H/C)'s eyes fell upon a scene that made her blood boil, a tableau of cruelty that seared itself into her mind. A man, his face twisted in a snarl, sat atop a woman, her body helpless and trembling, her clothes torn and disheveled. He laughed, a cold, mirthless sound, as he cursed with his words coated with venom while the woman's cries, like a wounded animal, filled the air with her sobs as the man rape her in front of others.

The room, once a haven of indulgence, transform into a den of depravity. Some men, seated on a large sofa, laughed and jeered, their faces flushed with excitement, while others watched with a mixture of fascination and disgust. A few, attempting to distance themselves from the scene, silently drank their plain disgust by the beers, their eyes averted, however their presence still complicit.

Red. (Y/N)'s vision was consumed by a sea of red, a crimson haze that fueled her fury. In an instant, she sprang into action, her movements swift and deadly, wordlessly she launched herself at the man, ripping him away from the woman with a strength born of rage. The sound of crashing furniture and shouting men filled the air as she hurled him aside, the group scattering in surprise.

Her eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for something to cover the woman's exposed form. But there was nothing —no cloth, no blanket, no shred of dignity left. So, with a swift motion, (Y/N) grasped the nearest ground mat, tearing it from the floor, and wrapped it around the woman's shivering body, shielding her from prying eyes.

That's when the same man lashed out, his hand closing around her forearm like a vice. (Y/N)'s jaw clenched in pain, her eyes flashing with anger, as she gazed straight into the man's raging eyes, their faces inches apart. "Why is he angry ? No—how dare he is angry ?" Complex emotions once more fueling her brain, hatred spite for the man so far her fingers itch to slit his throat and watch him bleed to death.

"No. No. No. No. (Y/N) you can't do it. Stay calm. Stay calm". Her inner rational self repeated after all the power held is by men not women.

"You fucking bitch ! What do you think you are ! Fucking cunt ? How dare you lay a hand on me ?" The man twisted (Y/N)'s arm only for her to stood firm, her eyes blazing with defiance. Pain was nothing new, and she refused to yield, her silence a challenge to his dominance.

Holding her trembling fist—not from fear rather from anger she calmly utter. "Dear customer, this section is cabaret not private room so please refrain from doing sexual activ—".

"Fuck you woman ! You all are slut what happens if I fuck one of you". Tension weighted heavy on his offensive words suffocating even her lungs by the audacity of this man. How dare ? How dare this man found the chest to spoke about them. This illiterate garbage.

"It seems you are illiterate because the meaning of cabaret is dancers in our complex. Pardon us for not explaining actually, we didn't knew an uneducated person would come to our threshold". Blazing her (E/C) eyes into the man, his grip tighten and she felt the heat of his body underneath the fat meat.

"What did you say you bitch—".

"Or are you perhaps deaf too ?" Her voice not a lace with sarcastism or mock. It's purely fill with rage. Rage of being helpless, useless and shame. Because no matter how this man violented the innocent woman and assulted (Y/N), the fact still stands—he is their customer.

Despicable. (Y/N)'s throat felt dry and cracked at the fact, as if the man's crushing grip had drained the last drop of moisture from her body. The pain was numbed by her revulsion and anger, emotions that seethed like a cauldron as she gazed up at his face, illuminated by the eerie purple and pink lights above. His features, once human, now seemed twisted and grotesque, a stark contrast to the inhumane actions that belied his civilized facade. Tears of rage swelled over her vision, casting a blurry veil over the scene, yet she continued to stare, transfixed by the horror of it all. A twisted sense of guilt slithered in, its dark tendrils wrapping around her heart, whispering cruel lies of blame and shame, as the colorful lights above seemed to mock her, casting an otherworldly glow on the nightmare unfolding below.

The door finally burst open again, this time however by the security guards. They finally trapped the man, even tearing his iron grip that left purple bruises—her eyes stare. This will heal, but what about the innocent woman ? The woman's who crimson blood flow out of her private part in front of so many eyes ? (Y/N) will have her untainted skin back without bruises but can the woman have her virginity back she oh so hard frought only to lose. Sorrows finally slide down mourning the unconsciously woman as she bend down, helping the cloth to prevent her nudity from exposing in process her eyes met a onyx eyes, a depthless pool of intensity that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken emotions burning with a fierce inner fire that she couldn't quite decipher regardless of the black spectacles that meant to conceal, only seemed to accentuate the piercing quality of his eyes. Quickly she avert the burning gaze. "He is no different than that man". Snarling her face, she walk not knowing his sight was set on her from the very moment she step inside.

She find herself sit outside the makeshift medical area, her eyes fixed on the curtain that shielded the woman's privacy. Beside her, the private female doctor, a specialist in treating victims of abuse, tended to the woman's wounds with gentle hands as the moonlight's pear through the window shimmering her unremoved outfit. Suddenly, the general manager burst into the room, his face etched with concern. However, he halted outside the curtain, respecting the woman's privacy. (Y/N) rose to meet him, her eyes questioning.

"What happen ?" she asked, her voice low.

The manager's eyes darted to the curtain, then back to (Y/N). "The security told me everything. Is she g-going to be okay ?"

"Yes but—". She paused, expression somber. "Her clit has tore, virginity is take away that's why it will cause her a lot of trauma". The manager nodded, his face set in a determined expression.

"So, she might not able to work right ?" Before (Y/N) could answer the female doctor pull the curtains closed.

"Yes, she isn't at the headspace to do. I am even afraid that it might also cause a trauma of men which is very much about this job". Discreetly (Y/N)'s fingers curl into fist holding the urge to suffer the perpetrater.

"Gosh ! Why did it had to happen in front of the VVVIP man". The man mutter a curse. "Our reputation and woman is lost face in front of him". A frown ink in between (Y/N)'s brows.

"What ? VVVIP ? But he was entertained and happy. We did our job perfectly". Pluzzed she elaborate. "Also sue the man not the innocent woman".

"I never want to sue the woman. It's not at all her fault rather I am angry at the man because that asshole is the one who last minute came here change the perfect schedule of attending your dance instead went to the living hall dance with completely different setting. A modern one".

"What ?" A grasp lip past her.

"Who was it ?"

"A man with black suit, black spectacles and his name is Wang Ji-Hyuk, he is a Korean man but his entire business is at China that's why we choose a chinese traditional theme also it was said by the asshole but he ruined it !" Fumes smoking out of his ears. "I am goona sue him". Bit his lips, he dial the number of the said VVVIP (Y/N) mistook.

"Wait ! So that man from before ?" (Y/N)'s mind reeled as a quick flashback assaulted her senses, transporting her back to the living hall mere seconds ago. She relived the moment when her gaze met the VVVIP's, the intensity of his stare still seared into her memory. But before she could even process her thoughts, the general manager's urgent grip on her arm yanked her back to reality.

"He's still outside, we should apologize," He whispered hastily, dragging her toward the door.

(Y/N)'s confusion deepened as she stumbled alongside him. Apologize? For what? She couldn't fathom what she had done wrong. The VVVIP's behavior had unsettled her of how a man so boredly sat and watched a woman get rape is truly inhumane, what apologize does she own to the VVVIP ? For protesting against the rape ? Protecting a innocent woman ? Or causing a scene unnecessary. Her thoughts swirled in a jumbled mix of emotions as she struggled to keep up with the general manager's rapid pace. Why were they apologizing? What part was her fault? None, she believes. Still the questions swirled in her mind like a vortex, leaving her bitter.

At the reception, they found the said man standing with his back to them, his imposing figure radiating an aura of authority. The soft hum of conversation and gentle clinking of foot filled the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside (Y/N).

Just as they approached, the head manager's voice cut through the calm, "Ah, sir, I see you're still here."

The VVVIP's back stiffened, and he slowly turned around, his movements deliberate and calculated and he faced them, his eyes locked onto (Y/N)'s once more, the intensity of his gaze making her heart skip a beat.

Time seemed to suspend as their eyes met, the air thickening with tension. The general manager's words of apology died on his lips, and the head manager's smile faltered, sensing the changed atmosphere. Pursing his lips, he nudge her hand allowing her to look away.

"W-we are sorry. Extremely sorry for the lack of professional and such unpleasant scenes to be caused". What ? What was her lips utter ? The way her mouth moved, forming words of apology, as if driven by a force beyond her control. Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper, as she spoke the words she didn't mean to say. Her head bent down, weighed by the shame that wasn't hers to bear.

She felt like a puppet, her body no longer her own, but a mere marionette controlled by invisible strings. Her limbs moved, her lips spoke, but her mind was a distant observer, helpless to stop the charade.

The man's gaze still held her captive, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to strip her of her autonomy. She was a leaf blown by the wind, a feather tossed by the breeze, completely at the mercy of forces beyond her control.

"Yes, we are very sorry". The head manager bow respectfully making the VVVIP tilts his head.

His voice was laced with a jaded tone, as he asked "Are you ?" The words hung in the air, a lazy drawl that seemed to imply he already knew the answer.

"Yes we are—" His gaze shifted, those onyx eyes slicing through the manager like a knife.

"Not you". He said, not hiding the disdain as the manager's words were cut off, left dangling in the air like a severed thread.

His eyes narrowed, returned on (Y/N) solely. "Her" He said, the single word a cold, calculated stab.

A gulp pass through her throat fighting the conflict of emotions ranging all together among his gaze piercing through her like a challenge, a dare to deny the truth he already knew and the air vibrate with tension pressuring her to say something against her will even if it's the truth.

"Yes". No. "We are very sorry for the inconvenience". As soon as they passed her lips, a look of disappointment settled upon his face, like a shadow cast by a cloud. His onxy eyes, once piercing and intense, now seemed to regard her with a disinterest that was almost worse than his earlier disdain. He turned away, his movements economical and precise, as if he had already dismissed her from his thoughts.

The head manager's words, a futile attempt to salvage the situation, trailed after him like a forgotten echo. "Sir, please, let us—" However he didn't so care to offer the head manager a face going out leaving a exhausted (Y/N) from the long journey she endured today. Hopefully he never comes back is what she wishes.

A wish that is bluntly ignored by the gods or heavens above after the next day he shown his face once again like a calm before the storm.

"O my gosh ! He came again !" The manager appeared to be in elated mood. "Also he requested for you specially !"

"Alone for me ?" He nod excitedly as if he were to dance in front of the VVVIP. A tangled web of emotions evocated her like : revulsion, obligation, and fear wrestled for dominance as she was asked to dance alone for the same man whose behavior had disgusted her. Her mind recoiled at the thought, her heart heavy with the weight of conflicting emotions. The memory of his jaded gaze at the living hall scene made her skin crawl, her body trembling with the effort to suppress her true feelings. Uncertainty and powerlessness shrouded her, like a ship torn from its anchor, adrift in a stormy sea. "Understood". As common it was such unfortunate things for women to happen in this industry she learnt the past years to forget those memories as soon as possible.

"What is the theme ?" She asked.

"No theme". He answered. "Also he has bring a dress only for you to wear". He added causing a tension.

"What kind ?"

"You will see once you wear". Giggly he answered.

Soon the answer was present as her feet glided into the room, her (slender/plump/bony) figure draped in a flowing, silvery-white gown that cascaded down her body like a river of moonlight. The dress, crafted from the finest silk, hugged her curves with a soft, ethereal glow, its smooth texture catching the light with every subtle movement and the gown's neckline rose to her jaw, framing her heart-shaped face with delicate precision. Around her chest, layers of flowery, silvery-white fabric bloomed like a whispered secret, adding a touch of whimsy and romance to her overall allure.

While her shoulders were cushioned by puffed sleeves that fell to her forearms, leaving a tantalizing expanse of skin visible beneath. The sleeves themselves were a masterclass in subtle drama, with delicate folds and creases that added depth and visual interest to the overall design. As she moved, the gown's silken fabric rustled softly, releasing tiny whispers of sound that seemed to match the beating of her heart. The hem of the dress swept the floor with a gentle, lapping motion, like waves caressing the shore.

"How can I dance in this properly ?" (Y/N) asked noticing the man's eyes glossing over the material.

He ignore her question. "It must be expensive. Because you of course looked beautiful but now you look drop dead gorgeous". A strained smile came to her lips despite feeling the nagging rings on her stomach.

"Thank you". The old man waved his hand.

"Okay, now go ! Go fast". Pushing her back tenderly (Y/N) was faced to face into a private room with Ji-Hyun.

"Thank you for requesting me, Mr. Wang—".

"You look beautiful". His gazed at her, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I imagined." His eyes devoured her, drinking in every inch of her being, as if attempting to memorize her contours. His gaze lingered, branding her image onto his soul, claiming her as his own. Time seemed to bend, stretching out the seconds as he feasted his eyes upon her like the world around him melting away.

"Thank you". Nervously she thanked. "So, Mr. Wang, what dance would you—".

"Sit".

"Huh ?" She felt her ears misheard. "I said sit". Perhaps not because her sight followed his palm patting the cushion beside him causing her heart sink.

"I cannot".

"Why ?" Almost like an genuinely question he asked.

"Because I am here to dance not to talk if you want to talk, you can go to the host section where women will talk—".

"I know," he drawled, his tone laced with ennui along his face unreadable. Yet, his next words dripped with intention: "But I want you." The phrase hung like a challenge, freighted with unspoken consequences.

She began asking, "What do you—". But he truncated her inquiry.

"Well, I'm not here to talk, rather to propose something only to you". The hidden meaning behind his words sent her heart racing, as multiple worst-case scenarios flashed through her mind like a chilling slideshow. "That's why sit down". She obeyed regardless of her mind commanding the opposite.

"Good". A smile curve finally. "So, I want you to be my girlfriend".

Silence. For few seconds the words pass her mind registering not to process rather how to defy without offending because he isn't the first person to offer such kind of want from her, many did and will in the future for sure.

"You mean, sir. You want to have sexual relationship with me ?" He must be, because no man in their right mind would offer a cabaret dancer to be their girlfriend for romance unless it involves the sexual favors. Right ?

"I do". She bit her bottom lips. "However I want full ownership of yours. Like partners do. I want to be your boyfriend not just a sexual client to satisfy my needs". Ji-Hyuk with straight face explained, his piercing eyes bore into hers.

"Ownership ?" She is at loss. Truly, because men offered their advances for her services she crearly doesn't work for—never confess their love.

"Yes. I crave a bond that goes beyond mere physical satisfaction. I want to own your heart, just as you own mine." The intensity of his emotions left her breathless, his words echoing in her mind like a promise of forever she didn't ask nor want. Uncomfortable flooded her body, confuse to know the right way to react to a VVVIP guest who suddenly profess his love for her when she met twice or more like met eyes twice.

"What if I reject ?" Her own voice whispered in the almost silent room if overlooking the light pleasant music from behind. Her fingers dug in the cloth that isn't belong to her to earn comfort.

"Why would you ? I have everything a woman needs in a partner so you shouldn't have to reject me". His nonchalant attitude was eerie to her and it gave her the answer she needed. She can't reject him. She shouldn't. Because the way his gaze pinned her, heavy with expectation. The dress, a luxurious trap over her body along his weight with unspoken threats with the air thickened seem to have clear his intention. He isn't here to hear no. Let alone from a woman like her who's expected to be impressed, to be grateful, and to accept thoughtless like a doll to buy and show off.

Still she choose to say. "I am sorry but I can't, sir. I am very very sorry". More than the consequences she fears her freedom stolen, controlled and tramped by a wealthy man she is yet to even know.

"Okay," Ji-Hyuk said, his voice flat and emotionless, like a door slamming shut. He turned and walked away, leaving the dancer alone in the private room, surrounded by the suffocating silence. The soft click of the door echoed through the space, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside her. His abrupt departure left her thoughts reeling, anxiety swirling like a maelstrom, as she struggled to decipher the true meaning behind his enigmatic answer.

Was it a genuine understanding, or a cleverly disguised manipulation? The uncertainty hung in the air, a heavy fog that refused to lift. Soon the head manager burst into the room, his face flushed with urgency, and demanded

"What's going on? Why did he leave so abruptly ?" His voice was laced with a mix of frustration and concern. However, (Y/N) was too engrossed in her own thoughts to acknowledge his presence similar to Ji-Hyuk, who sat in the backseat of his luxurious car, puffing on a cigarette, his eyes gazing into the distance. His mind with how first and hard he fallen in love, and the rejection that came with it. The smoke from his cigarette swirled around him dwelling him to how he fell.

Trash. He thought, the moment these Thailand business men invited him to a Adult Entertainment Complex, he already judged them and cancelled the deal in his mind. Because two types of men are pathetic, one if they are consumed by greed lost rationality and another drown in lust lost control by their lower part that's why he doesn't make deals with entertainment industry, with what tragedy did he accepted their proposal. Huh ? Merely thinking of the chaos he is about to witness create a mirgrane however he still decided to go, why ? Because he wanted some relaxment too however his meaning of relaxment wasn't watching a barely adult woman getting rape by one of the trash from the Thailand worker.

"I regret coming here". He thought drinking the bitter beer. Gosh, he should have ordered wine, beer never suited his taste nor his class what father told him and he was right. Dull the mood has transformed and he outstretched his hand to his private secretary when the door bust open by a woman, a beautiful one and clearly from this industry judging from her Chinese theme clothes marched with pure rage towards the trash.

Intrigue fill his interest, he partly expected the woman to be naïve and display her emotions however he was beyond delightful to find her compose yet fierce personality. The way her eyes twitch yet not a wince slip her lips when he twist her arm, the way her delicate jaw clench in anger and those (E/C)'s burn like flames and the light hues from above shone at her so beautifully, gorgeously, he wished right there and that moment to claim her as his especially given his initial disappointment with her timid apology before departed the complex.

But now, Ji-Hyuk's lips curled into a sly smirk, the cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of his mouth, as he savored the unexpected turn of events. "She rejected me". She isn't as timid as he thought who needed a little push to be claimed instead turn out to be a little firecracker, who knew exactly when to withhold her flames, leaving him intrigued and wanting more. Her rejection was a tantalizing challenge, a hint of a deeper intelligence and inner strength that he found irresistible. A smart woman, one who could match wits and defy expectations, was a far more captivating prize than a naive, submissive one.

"(Y/N)!" The manager's sharp voice cut through her intense focus, snapping her back to reality. She blinked, her gaze shifting from the task at hand to the manager's expectant face.

"Yes, manager? Why did you come?" she asked, her tone measured, but her mind still reeling from the sudden interruption. Lately the manager has been coming to her a lot from the moment that VVVIP's existence came—her throat constricted, memories of the previous day's conversation with Ji-Hyuk flooding her senses.

"What conversation did you had with him ?" Her (E/C)'s eyes stare at his unusual stress expression.

(Y/N) paused, her eyes avert from his.

"So, I want you to be my girlfriend".

"However I want full ownership of yours. Like partners do. I want to be your boyfriend not just a sexual client to satisfy my needs".

"Nothing special". Lies smoothly roll her tongue.

"Is it really nothing special ? Really ?" The manager asked, his voice raising enough for to flinch.

"Why ? Yes, nothing special". In low voice she said, as her palm reached out to placate the middle-aged man. Her hand made contact with his shoulder, a gentle touch that spoke of reassurance. While a quick smile to others who stare at the raised voice.

"Then explain why did not only that Thailand business company cut our services but also all of our Thailand business companies !" (Y/N)'s eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and dawning recognition swirling within them. The manager's words hung in the air like a challenge, forcing her to confront the unspoken questions she had brushed off earlier. Why were there fewer people than usual today ? And now, all of their Thailand business companies? No. It can't be. Why did he leave with such a short "okay" if he was going to take this step ?

"Look ! (Y/N), you are my long term employee, I have watched you from the start of your life in this grey world of lust and men so I know you wouldn't do something to hurt our complex, will you ? No right ?" Immediately she shake her head. "That's why tell me if you said some offense words, we can apologize to him and correct the mistake". Past his calm voice suggesting, (Y/N) could clearly see his trembling hands.

"How did you know it's him. It could be anybody more powerful". She questioned, not want to confront the reality just yet. How could she ? After she rejected him ? If indeed he is behind the work, the cabaret manager can't limit her imagine of how power he has in his palm.

"Because, today every single Thailand client called at the same time, canceling their services. Of course I forcefully asked one of them where he told me the truth that a powerful person ordered them". He revealed. "And Mr. Wang is one of the top business man who has hands all over the Thailand industry even if the companies don't work together, it's easy to pull strings of connection". (Y/N)'s gut twisted into knots, her stomach churning with a sense of foreboding. The weight of the manager's words settled upon her, making her feel like she was drowning in a sea of responsibility. The pressure was suffocating, each breath a struggle as she tried to process the magnitude of the situation.

With a sense of resignation, she nodded her head, agreeing to take the fall for the mistake. "I'll go apologize," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like a betrayal, a admission of guilt that she didn't fully understand.

"Then let's go ! We must hurry to seal the deal". Excitedly the manager without sparing a look at her, guide her to outside.

Why ? Why ? Why ? Why ? Why ? Why ? WHY ? like a annoying ring on her head spin around making her unconsciously deep her crescent scars on her skin. Like a holding her inner demons to explode. How ? Why ? How can fate always make her the victim of pathetic humans ? Huh ? Why she ? Wasn't her inhumane father trying sell his own daughter for few dollars enough that fate somehow brought a man to toy her entire meticulous bulit like crumble down. Yes, Roman wasn't built in one day but it sure burned in one day.

A cruel reminder that even the strongest foundations can be razed by the whims of fate.

Clenching her jaw, her heavy feet step towards the destiny she very much fears at the same time loathes. That's when a hand hold her wrist spinning her around and her eyes wide seeing the man.

"Hello, Mr. Wang. Thank you very very very much for letting us in. The fault entirely lies on us that's why Miss. (L/N) came to apologize with me". Forcing his hand together he plead in front of the Ji-Hyuk who across him sat lounged on the massive sofa, his casual attire—a light blue shirt with white line strips and grey trousers —a stark contrast to the gravity of the tense situation. One leg crossed over the other, his back leaned against the plush cushions, exuding an air of relaxed superiority while his gaze was fixed intently on the woman beside the manager. (Y/N) herself sat rigidly, her posture a picture of tense contrition. Her head bowed, chin tucked in, and jaw clenched in a tight line. Fingers curled into fists, her hands rested on her lap, betraying the turmoil brewing beneath her subdued exterior. A portrait of contained anguish.

Reading the obvious implication of his attention over her. The manager nudged her arm to which she part her lip. "Mr. Wang, please forgive me if any of my words that I didn't knew held much power offend you personally that's why I am sorry". She bow slightly. "Hopefully you can look past my mistakes and still continue to be in our services".

Click ! The soft scratch of the sliver lighter to a fleeting spark, and the gentle whoosh of flame embracing tobacco. Ji-Hyuk's eyes never left (Y/N) as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the tip dancing with each inhale. He smoked with deliberate slowness, exhaling wispy tendrils of smoke that curled around his words. His gaze, calm and collected, held (Y/N) captive as he spoke, his voice low and even. "So, will you finally accept the proposal you rejected?"

The woman swears she doesn't need a glance to feel her higher up head swirl to her side with perplexed written.

"If I do, will you continue to be in our services and spread good words among other business ?" His eyebrows rise in intrigue and the message clearly send to cut the trouble and make it back to normal.

"This". A gleam of satisfy flicker in his eyes. This passion, fire was he expecting from the woman he desires and he wasn't disappointed.

"Yes. Will you be my girlfriend". He asks, a question from his side however a taunt to her after all, 'no' was never an answer.

"Yes". Finally a smile touch upon his lips along his eyes crinkled at the corners.

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏' 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚

After the chaos subsided and (Y/N), her boss drove out of the mansion by his personal driver, the air was electric with the buzzing of phones. The screens lit up with notifications, a flurry of activity that signaled the return of Thailand's services—and more. New companies, behemoths in their industries, had flocked to Ji-Hyuk's empire, eager to tap into his influence. The sheer scale of it all was suffocating. (Y/N) felt a wave of disgust wash over her as she realized the true extent of Ji-Hyuk's power. He had effortlessly manipulated the situation, bending the world to his whim. The thought made her skin crawl, her anger simmering just below the surface.

She was nothing but a tiny, insignificant doll in his vast playground, subject to his every caprice. He could trample her, walk all over her, and she was powerless to stop him. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow, her resentment growing with each passing moment. Snatching her wrist, she glance at the decorative lights of the cities with moon light donning from above and the next thing she knew she found herself standing in a cramped, dimly lit room, surrounded by the faint scent of perfume and smoke. She was dressed in a revealing theme outfit, her reflection staring back at her from a mirror-lined wall like usual ready to entertain the customer alongside her coworkers, equally dazzling in their attire, bustled around her, their chatter and laughter a cacophony in her ears.

Suddenly, the door slid open revealing Ji-Hyuk and the enigmatic owner of Muse and Seduction she never been lucky to catch glimpse of, stood before her. Mutters ring behind her, reeling her mind and she watched him come near her.

'𝑪𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

"From now onwards you aren't allowed to dance ever again". And her entire world crumble down once again.

"Am I getting fired ?" She swears, (Y/N) swears to not sweep desperation and hurried in her voice however her eyes also betrayed her vulnerably in front of the same man her fate is controlled by.

"No. You are just only allowed to work for me". Ji-Hyuk replied nonchalant as if he didn't taking away her dancing too, the only source of her income and comfort of identity.

𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒂𝒚

"Can I reject ?" She tries but she was aware of the defeat the moment his eyes racked over her figure and the owner of her complex cleared his throat.

Her answer doesn't matter. Never did and will. How unfair as her (E/C)'s in agonizing slow motion as her juniors slipped away, one by one, into the private rooms without her felt fresh twist of the knife hollow her inside.

Never again.

Suddenly the sanctuary, being to transform into a shrinking cage as its walls closing in with oppressive force, squeezing the last vestiges of hope from her lungs. Suddenly every tick of the clock was a countdown to her demise, suddenly the silence seems to be a uncomfortable noise she can't ignore and eyes of his heavy like a death warrant above.

Softly, she breathed: "Are you satisfied?" Her whisper hung in the air, a fragile question mark, as her gaze remained fixed on the empty space where the women had vanished, their absence a haunting echo.

A smirk lift his lip and with a sign of hand Ji-Hyuk command the owner to leave the couple alone to which he obeyed.

"Yes". Anticipation bumble within him as he stare at her waiting for the gaze to be returned.

She looked at him.

Chill. Straight chills ran through his body the way her numbed eyes bore into his, as if she could see right though his soul. Oh ! The taste of breaking a strong woman is like conquering a fire with bare hands. His fingers tremble to touch her.

So he did. Snake his hands around her waist and tighten the hug almost burying her into him.

𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒘𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏' 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌.

"How about we spend the night together. Alone, only you and me ?" The question mark lingered, a sly taunt, as if daring her to respond but she knew better. Only humans are worthy of consent or choice, not a pig, even the one who is about to be butchered. No one asks a pig if it wants to be slaughtered so does she that's why she nod lifting a smile.

The mini city lights twinkled like diamonds from the car window is once again a wonderful sight yet her inside remained heavy with a numbness that suffocated any spark of awe or happiness. Only pumping heart mechanically, a mere reflex before the slaughter.

𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

His tan slender palm, hold hers on her lap that she dared to glance at him finding his eyes already on her. He was about to speak when the driver announced.

"Sir, we have arrived". The master nod, merely going outside on his own before signaling her and her (E/C) eyes saw the familiar mansion like the previous time of her asking to apologize with her manager—not alone making her wonder if she not come, would her fate had been different ? Perhaps—for worse. She likes to delusion.

His palm finds her and almost drag her inside ignoring few numbers of servents bowing to them walked straight to the white stairs. Only noise of her racing heart and heels clicking echoed the eerie mansion until they arrived at his bedroom—she guess.

He released her hand, only to shed his professional armor, his fingers deftly untying his tie and unfastening his cuffs, the soft clinking of metal and rustle of silk. The cabaret steeled herself, bracing for the inevitable prepared to be used as a merchandise and discard at his whim.

As expected he closed in, his chin whispering against hers, their faces inches apart, the air thickened with anticipation. But just as their lips were about to meet, he detected the slightest hint of defiance—her hyoid bone tensed, a tiny rebellion, and her fist, clenched in a secret gesture of resistance. His onyx eyes, burning with intensity, snapped to hers, searching for surrender, but instead found a spark of refusal that turn him on so hard.

As their lips entwined, he was transported to a realm of pure bliss, his senses ignited by the sweet nectar of her mouth. He felt like a man blessed by the gods, granted the ultimate treasure to savor and devour. Every fiber of his being thrilled with ecstasy, his heart soaring on wings of delight, as he indulged in the tender flesh of her lips. The world around him melted away, leaving only the intoxicating taste of her, a divine elixir that left him drunk with pleasure. He was a king, and she was his conquest, his prize, his heavenly gift.

Unawarely he concerned her to the wall, cornered (Y/N) further than she was trapped. A nausea threat to pile over as she was clawed, touched, sucked into the unwanted torture. Tears swell her eyes, she wanted to bite his tongue and shove him away but against her want she continue to let the starved man indulged because the pig is layed, its flesh inspected, and now the blade poised about to slash its throat, mirroring the brutal violation of her own dignity.

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

Greedy hands tore at her outfit, exposing her flesh alike the pig's carcass, his onyx eyes devouring the sight of her breasts. His palm fondled one, hunger burning in his gaze, as her fingers instinctively wrapped around his hand, her nails digging deep enough to draw blood, a primal reaction to his violation.

Her breath hitched.

His lustful eyes snap to her.

Oh no. No. No. No. What did she did. She wasn't suppose to protest. She shouldn't be. A mistake—apologize—right she should apologize but why no voice is uttering. Suddenly his gaze burn her bare flesh, shame her.

And to her surprise, he retreat his hand. A displease paint his expression. Not to her intrude as she is thinking rather Ji-Hyuk realize this fire isn't his yet. She still doesn't belong to him.

Body, yes. Mind, yes but heart ? No. A not astonishing information wash cold over him. No, this is not good. No, not at all. He wants her everything. From her body to her fire to her heart—too. He wants her every bit to feast or else she never belonged to him at all.

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

That's why he shifted away. Marching to the bathroom leaving (Y/N) with a command. "You are staying the night".

That night, they lay in bed, a chasm of silence and space between them. He had freshened up, and she had too, separately, as if seeking solace in solitude. They faced away from each other, feigning sleep, but (Y/N) was wide awake, her senses heightened. She felt his gaze upon her, multiple times, as he quietly turned to watch her pretended slumber. His eyes lingered, a silent scrutiny, as if seeking answers in her stillness. The darkness was palpable, punctuated only by the soft rustle of sheets, as they both waited for the dawn, their minds racing with unspoken thoughts. The distance between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, a heavy, unbridgeable gap, as they lay there, lost in their own private worlds.

As the sun's golden rays peeked through the window, casting a warm glow on her side of the bed, she quietly sat up on the soft mattress she rarely gets to touch let alone sleep, her gaze drifting to his peaceful form. His sleeping face, relaxed and serene, is a sight to behold, his features softened without the stiff spectacles that usually framed his eyes. Yet, as she beheld his tranquil countenance, a morbid thought crept into her mind. "Would he look as peaceful, as serene, if he were to die with his eyes closed ?" The question lingered.

"This is the first time you are so eagerly sparing me a look," His sudden, raspy voice sliced through the silence, making her jump as she realized he was awake, his eyes now opened to meet her surprised one. "What ? Why so shock ? Can't a man wake up early ?" He chuckle, sitting up and she shifted away as much as possible. Ji-Hyuk notice it.

"Well, good morning ?" He greeted expected to be returned.

"Good morning". (Y/N) replied.

Then he silently rose from the bed and vanished into the bathroom, leaving (Y/N) alone in the quiet morning light.

A soft knock on the door preceded the entrance of a maid, who curtsied and presented (Y/N) with a neatly folded outfit. "It's the master's order," she whispered, her eyes cast down. (Y/N) nodded, accepting the clothes, and followed the maid to a separate bathroom she used yesterday to freshen up and she changed into the new outfit, her movements were quiet and obedient. After finishing, she made her way to the master bedroom, where he awaited.

The moment she stepped into the room, his face transformed, a warm smile spreading across his features, like a sunrise breaking through the clouds. It was a sight she noticed how frequently he is showning alike she recalled the gentle curve of his lips in the morning, and the soft smile he had worn the day before raising a question is he letting his guard down ? Good then.

"It really did suit you. Looks pretty." His eyes crinkled at the corners, and his voice was low and smooth.

"Thank you". Ji-Hyuk stood up, walked near her.

"What would you like to have in breakfast ?" She narrowed her eyes on his caring question.

"Anything". Meekly she answered.

"Even grass ?" He smirked at her clenched jaw action.

"What ? What was funny ?" She wanted to yell yet knew to keep her mask on of compose and said. "I am sorry. No. Rather I do not have much preference as you like sir, order it". Polite and low her voice sounded however to Ji-Hyuk, it sounded distant and cold.

"Well, what country are you from ?" (Y/N) is confuse at his sudden question session.

"(C/N)".

"Hmm..then order something from your home country". The dancer paused a second to realize why he asked about that and it twist something alike a knife inside her guts of how caring his thoughts might be, it's ironic to his actions and power use he done.

"Understood".

"Ji-Hyuk". He called his name. "Call me by my name".

"Understood—". His onyx eyes burn into her eyes as if waiting for his name to roll out of his name. "Ji-Hyuk". And the sound certainly lighten the mood of the VVVIP due to his wider smile like a boy got his desired candy.

Soon they entered the grand dining hall with they sat at opposite ends of a sprawling, polished table. The long, empty plates stretched out before them like a canvas of fine china, adorned with intricate silverware and crystal glasses. At the head of the table, the private butler from the previous day she seen stood poised, his eyes fixed on her with a silent expectation, his presence exuding an air of refined elegance and discretion.

The butler approached, his eyes inquiring, and asked, "May I take your order?"

She parted her lips to say when under his watch she said her favorite meal from her home country while he opted for the Grilled Salmon. As they waited for their food. (Y/N) felt his gaze without looking the entire until their meals arrived, they ate in awkward silence.

"So, why did you start working in this kind of place". He sliced into the salmon, his knife gliding smoothly as he watched the juice trickle across the white plate.

She paused a quick second to meet his gaze thinking whether she should be honest or lie and as if reading her mind he answered. "I will know about your background anyway". She smiled quitely at his sentence because then why ask her ? It feels like being interrogated by the police.

"To escape my abusive parents". Her eyes then slide to her own meal.

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

"Oh, physically or mentally ?" She furrowed her brows, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked up, meeting his gaze and he simply smiled, seeming to revel in her reaction because he had intentionally asked the question to draw her in, to make her willingly meet his eyes. After all, he had never gone to such lengths for a lady like her— dining together, wasting time, and inquiring about her past, which he could easily access. But he knew that to truly captivate her heart, he needed to understand it first. And so, he watched her, his eyes sparkling with amusement and curiosity.

"Both". He nodded, putting a piece of salmon inside his mouth not averting his own gaze.

"Then why didn't you go to sex work ? It pays more than cabaret do".

"It's uncomforta—it's uncomfortable to be in pain. As a woman, I always have to be in pain at my first period, my first sex and probably for my first birth that I decided not to have the latter two for the sole sake of pain". His notions paused as slow, knowing smile spread across his lips sinking the realization of her touched and in this moment he knew he had chosen perfectly. "Unlike men". She added noting all his reactions.

"Sounds almost to me you want to become a man".

"No". She chuckle bitterly. She wants to crush men. Cutting her meal she missed the way his eyes glowed in astonishment.

𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

"S-She smiled ?" It's the first time she smiled willingly and it's beauty so captivating that his breath caught in his throat.

"Ji-Hyuk, could I ask which country are you from ?" Her question snap from his daze.

"You already have known it".

"Not from you". Ah ! This wit is what drives him crazy. The challenge is to his liking. Too liking.

"Korea but stayed at China my most childhood due to my father being Chinese and his business in here".

"Then your friends must have celebrated birthdays together". (Y/N) smiled in envy.

"Yes. Very happily". Ji-Hyuk answered. "When is your birthday ?"

"(M/D), yours ?" It created a smile at his lips knowing her interest awaken on him.

"Mine at August 31". She nod noting.

"I would like to celebrate my birthday with you". An order it is she understood from his tone.

"And what about your parents ?" She asked something quickly.

"Well, they are dead. Both died in their arms". Smiling Ji-Hyuk said. "What a love. I want that too". Glancing at her he tilts his head making her look down in uncomfortable.

After that he continued to engage her in conversation, asking about her interests and hobbies. However, she responded with brief, monosyllabic answers while also trying to slip some questions about him.

Finally the breakfast ended with her glancing at the lavish clock attached on the white wall. "Ji-Hyuk, then I should go ?"

"Where to ?" He straightforwardly asked.

"Home". Ji-Hyuk clench his jaw. "Can't this be your home ?" He was tempted to say but he didn't, too soon.

"Okay," (Y/N) breathed, feeling a wave of relief wash over her as she turned to leave. When Ji-Hyuk next words stopped her in her tracks. "But—" Her heart sank, her lungs tightening once more as she turned back to face him.

"Give me your phone," he said, his hand outstretched, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.

Finding no excuse to refuse with a sense of detachment, her hand reached into her bag and handed over her phone. The VVVIP's fingers closed around it like a vice, his thumbs flying across the screen with a speed and accuracy that made her skin crawl and when he handed it back, (Y/N) felt a chill shiver her spine. Her GPS and location services were now enabled, her every move trackable.

Holding her phone tightly with a bright, empty smile, she waved goodbye, feeling like a puppet on strings as his personal driver escorted her to the car, and she was driven away from the mansion towards her own home.

The driver's silent gaze met hers in the rearview mirror as he pulled up to her apartment building, the unassuming structure a stark contrast to the opulent villa she'd just left. (Y/N) felt a mix of relief and anxiety as she gathered her belongings and stepped out onto the familiar sidewalk.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

With a nod, the driver waited until she disappeared into the building before pulling away, leaving (Y/N) to climb the stairs to her apartment with a sense of trepidation.

As soon as she locked the door behind her, she pulled out her phone and dialed a familiar number. Somchai, the bar manager.

☾ ───────────

𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏' 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

Three hours of silence. Three hours of utter disregard the woman he waste so much time isn't caring to pick his call nor seeing his messages making Ji-Hyuk anger seethed, simmering just below the surface as he glared at his phone, willing her to respond. But she didn't. She was ignoring him, dismissing his attempts to contact like he was nothing. The thought sent a venomous rage coursing through his veins. Who did she think she was, anyway ? Didn't she know he wouldn't be ignored ? He should have kept her locked away, hidden from the world, where she couldn't humiliate him like this. Now, he have no choice but to confront her by going to her home, hopefully she isn't with a man being a whore. Just the mere thoughts made his skin crawl, his mind racing with visions of her with another man. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let that happen.

The business man almost burst out of the car if his driver late to scramble open the door one second and Ju-Hyuk is at this point consumed in rage and jealousy. He reached floor and stood at her door, his hand slamming into the bell three times, the sound echoing through the hallway.

"Bitch ! If there is a man. I will fucking kill him". He swore and the no answer only fueled his anger, he began pounding on the door, his fists shaking with fury. "Open up!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. "I know you're in there! You can't hide from me!"

And before he thought to break the weak wooden door, it swing open by (Y/N) herself who's surprise cross her expression finding his disheveled appearance, for the moment his heart skip a beat as his gaze lock into her beautiful (E/C) eyes and his anger falter until a glimpse of an unfamilar man behind her sat on the sofa, seems to be waiting for her.

𝒔𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒆 '𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔

"Bitch, fucking bitch". He mutter under his breath, staring at the man and snap ! As if the thread of holding his inner demon exploded and all his vision could see was red and his mind the urgue to kill the man alive.

He pushed (Y/N) aside, his hands shoving her away like a mere obstacle. She stumbled, her eyes wide in alarmed seeing him march into the room.

"What is he doing ?" (Y/N)'s confusion dissipated in an instant when the VVVIP's palm curled into a fist, poised to strike her co-worker. Her eyes widened in horror with her piercing screams earning Somchai's attention who now noticed his menacing stance is already too late. Ji-Hyuk fist flew, connecting with a sickening crunch that sent Somchai stumbling backward. The sound of the impact was like a crack of thunder, making (Y/N)'s heart skip a beat on contrast to his satisfaction.

"Stop it ! What are you doing ?" She scream and jumped before him to defense the only man who ever treated her like a human angering him more.

"Move". She shake her head.

"Please tell me why are you doing this ?"

"Because you are fucking having an affair". Flames coating his voice as he narrowed his eyes to her pluzzed gaze.

"What lead you to believe that ?"

"Well, this alone of him being in your room proves that and the reason of not answering my messages and phone calls". She openly for the first time scoff.

"First of all I had no idea of your messages and phone call because it was charging in another room and". She paused, looking at her side. "There are people with me". The table turns and Ji-Hyuk turn to the side with his eyes wide finding two women and another older man standing in horror holding few papers related to work. "They are all managers like me in Muse and Seduction".

His eyes dropped, falling to the floor as the weight of his mistake crushed him. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, his breath knocked out of him. His hands, still clenched into fists, now felt limp and useless, painted with the innocent manager's blood. "Fuck !"

The room fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the managers, who were still trying to process the scene that had just unfolded and Ji-Hyuk's mind is a jumble of emotions, his thoughts racing with the realization of what he had done. All his hard work, all the progress he had made in building trust with (Y/N), had been undone in an instant, all his hard work in drain and now start from square one again. What a fucking idiot. Never did he knew one day his emotions overshoadow his logic that he so thinks is pathetic at the same time a newfound realization set in. He can't anymore bear the loss of this woman. How beautiful yet tragic.

"It was my fault. I-I will pay the bills of his medica—".

"Sir, could you please step a bit ?"

"S-Sir ? Step a bit ? What do you mean ?" For the first time in front of (Y/N), he stutter his words, bewildered by the fact she is choosing a random man over him ? Why is she telling him to leave ? "You want me gone ?" His voice accusing and onyx eyes betrayed feeling the regret of letting the man alive.

"No, sir I meant to—".

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒕

"What ?" Aggression evade his face and (Y/N) flinch in pain when Ji-Hyuk's grip on her forearm, his fingers digging deep into her skin "Fucking bitch, what ? Cat caught your tongue".

"Ji-Hyuk, I am simple asking you to move so I can grab my phone to call—". He scoff loud to cut her polite request.

"Now you are calling me by my name ? What a clever little mouse you are ?" He twist her arm a little, gleaming to find a hint of change expression.

"Aren't you a fucking whore ?" He twist some more and she clench her jaw brushing off the memories that comes with the pain, bitter memories of the past men repeating the action.

"Aww, is my whore daughter crying ?"

"What bitch ? Spread your leg, why can't you open your legs like a bitch in heat".

"What a little woman we have here ? Listen, woman are submissive, not wild cards".

"Fuck you woman ! You are all slut, what happens if I fuck one of you".

"So, (Y/N) fucking (L/N) talk, do you want to me to leave ?" Bottled anger and resentment simmered, a potent brew of fury and fear the more he speaks. The echoes of past men's condescending voices swirled around her, a cacophony of control and possession that threatened to consume her.

"Talk ! Can't you fucking talk ?" Each word, each phrase, was a drop of water, slowly drowning her, suffocating her.

"(Y/N), answer me !" Her lungs burning, her heart racing, as the weight of their collective entitlement crushed her. And then, something inside her snapped.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP". She exploded and he was silenced. "Yes I do indeed want you to be gone. So please for god's sake go away with your sad excuse of a man". She straight glare at him making him falter a little and without a word he left.

For few seconds she stood silently before Somchai's gently pat on her back bring her to reality.

"I am sorry for the scene". She asked forgiveness to her co-workers who shake their head, brushing off her apologize. "Also I am sorry, Somchai". She said to the man who watched and seen the entire thing and couldn't help feel pride swell his chest.

"Don't be". Shortly making eye-contact he smiled silently telling her it's not her place to apologize.

Gingerly, (Y/N) asked, "Should I call an ambulance or take you to the hospital ?"

His response was nonchalant "No need, it's not my first time." A hint of a reckless past lingered in his words, leaving (Y/N) wondering what kind of life he had led to become a bar manager in this Adult Entertainment Complex along the lines his teenage years, he claimed, were a blur of wild abandon and devoid of serious goals or direction.

The meeting had reached an impasse, with Somchai and the others swiftly exiting, leaving (Y/N) alone to ponder the consequences of her action, sitting on the sofa. She massaged her forehead, trying to ward off the looming headache and speak of the devil, her phone buzzed, a message from Ji-Hyuk, popping up on the screen.

"Make sure to come to my birthday tomorrow". (Y/N) was taken aback by Ji-Hyuk's calmness in the message as she brace herself for anger, resentment, or even threats only to get this ? Her initial unease grew more, scared of unpredictability. When another notification pop. "Or else you have to pay for today". A clear threat despite the indirect words still she felt a twisted sense of relief after all at least she knew he was indeed still mad and have a temper because another one of the lessons she had learned on this job is the unreadable ones were always the worst. It's never known when they would explode or what they were brewing inside the calm facade so, with Ji-Hyuk's overt threat, she could prepare herself, unlike the unpredictable ones who kept her on edge.

"What a headache". She hold her head on her hand and slumped on the sofa not having the strength to move.

Beautiful the color blue is and Y/N looked absolutely stunning in the silk light blue dress sent by Ji-Hyuk this morning. The delicate fabric hugged her body perfectly, and the soft hue complemented her skin tone exquisitely with her hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall, with loose strands dancing in the gentle breeze as she stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the taxi to arrive she booked few seconds ago.

"What is going to happen ?" Worried cast upon her face imagining his treatment for talking back at him yesterday. She hated it. Hated being scared of little things, little mistakes makes her reminiscent back to the days of her parents where her mother unnerving, unforgiving eyes follow her around along her father's hating her guts for being merely a female. Her (E/C) eyes stare at the gift she held, a expensive watch—not with much thought she brought but it hurt her to spend her hard worked penny on to someone she doesn't care plus with her finance—the gift is too much for her. Hopefully he doesn't break it into pieces.

She was lost in her thoughts when a sleek, lavish car pulled up beside her, its black windows gleaming in the sunlight caught her attention. "It's his". Shs understood and confirmed more when the window rolled down, revealing the familiar face of the driver, who greeted her with a courteous smile. "Come inside, ma'am."

Wordless she obeyed feeling to step into a world of wealth and power, the scent, the softness, the space all makes the car so much more lavish to sit on, a mix of surprise and curiousity brew inside her soaking on the money she never dreamed to be inside and the door closed behind her with a gentle thud, snapping her out of the admiration.

Soon they pulled up to the grand estate, the driver opened the door, and she stepped out, her smile faltering for a moment as she gazed up at the imposing structure. The familiar mansion loomed before her, its beauty almost painful in its intensity. The sunlight danced across its facade, casting a warm glow that made it shine like a golden palace of the gods.

As she entered, her eyes observed in awe at the opulent interior. Crystal chandeliers refracted rainbow hues, and intricate frescoes adorned the ceilings. The air was alive with the sweet scent of exotic flowers, and the soft hum of classical music whispered through the halls. The decoration certainly more heavenly than before.

And at the heart of this splendor stood her master, his eyes locked onto hers, and she felt the familiar tug of the invisible leash on her neak holding on his hand.

𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

His hand outstretch and she smile like a pretty doll letting him hold it like a prince he is and they walked together towards the private ballroom where faint party noise could be heard and her (E/C)'s glance at him. "Happy birthday...". She tailed off. "Ji-Hyuk". Finally she added making him smile and caress.

"Thank you". He said caressing her hand by his thump. "You look beautiful in the dress I choose".

"Here's your gift". (Y/N) extended her hand, offering the gift bag. "It's not much, but I hope you like it." Ji-Hyuk's eyebrows shot up in amusement as he accepted the bag, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and he opened the packet, revealing a sleek watch with a black leather strap— a luxurious and expensive timepiece indeed, yet to Ji-Hyuk, it was surprisingly plain and almost...tacky.

"This ?" His gaze narrowed, his expression hidden the disdain staring at the color black seemed dull and unrefined to his eyes, a far cry from the sophisticated and elegant accessories he was accustomed to making him wonder about (Y/N)'s taste. Had she really thought this was something he would appreciate? Shouldn't she have at least asked him before bringing something so...pedestrian into his home?

The air was thick with unspoken questions as Ji-Hyuk's eyes met (Y/N)'s, his expression a mask of polite gratitude. "Thank you," though his voice neutral, still his eyes betraying a hint of disapproval. And (Y/N) notice it.

"Your welcome". She look away clenching her fist.

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

"By the way you are staying the entire night with me". He commanded leaving no room for argument not like she has a tongue to argue. Once was a mistakes. Twice wouldn't be so she bit her tongue.

Then they stepped into the resplendent golden ballroom, the air was alive with the gentle clinking of champagne glasses and the soft hum of conversation. The room was abuzz with people from all walks of life, each with their own agenda, yet united in their anticipation. They mingled and chatted, forming tentative bonds, their eyes gleaming with a shared desire— to curry favor with the elusive Ji-Hyuk.

However beneath the polished smiles and courteous laughter, a different story unfolded. Each guest harbored a secret hope, a dream they dared not speak aloud. They were all waiting for the host, the enigmatic Ji-Hyuk, rumored to possess the power to make their deepest desires come true and once they spot him, a collective hush fell over the room. Ji-Hyuk's arrival was met with a subtle yet palpable shift in the atmosphere. The masks of civility slipped, revealing glimpses of avarice and longing. Eyes gleamed with an unspoken hunger, as if the very presence of Ji-Hyuk might unlock the doors to their wildest ambitions.

"Terrifying". She mutter under her breath, clearly feeling eyes burn her skin along his as the spotlight is on both of them together.

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

As Ji-Hyuk's lips grazed her cheek, a shiver ran down her spine. His gentle whisper, "Let's go, sweetheart". sent a mix of emotions swirling within her. Their steps harmonized, drawing them closer to the crowd, and with each stride, her anxiety intensified. The air thickened, making her feel like she was being slowly suffocated, as if the walls of her lungs were closing in.

The crowd loomed before her, a sea of faces blurring together like a den of hyenas waiting to pounce. Ji-Hyuk's reassuring squeeze on her hand only added to the pressure, a reminder that even the gentlest touch from the most powerful predator could be overwhelming. The thought sent a tremor through her veins, as she felt like a vulnerable prey being led into the heart of danger.

"Welcome, Mr. Wang".

"Oh my friend, long time no see. Happy birthday".

"Happy birthday. Just didn't saw you for few years and you look more younger than before".

"Happy birthday. Mr. Wang, here meet my wife".

"Mr. Wang nice to meet you".

"Mr. Wang, you seem such a busybody ?"

"Mr. Wang, thanks to you the new wine business is going smoothly".

All their voices come mush to her yet when she glance he looks as unaffected rather he looks composed, calm and smiling and answering to each one of them.

"Oh ! Mr. Wang, who is this beautiful lady in your arms ?" This earned her attention holding her breath to hear. A escort ? A girlfriend ? A nobody ? Hopefully he choose one of these.

But her heart sank.

"My soon to be wife". Her eyes wide and breath hitched. Chest racing and almost as if feeling her eyes he slide to meet hers.

What ? Wife ? Wasn't the deal to be his girlfriend ? Why ? What changed ?

As if reading her mind he part his lips speaking wicked words. "And I am proposing to her right now. In front of her".

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

Her body froze, shock and fear rendering her immobile. She couldn't look away, couldn't speak, could only watch in horror the scenario unfolded. A waiter approached, bearing a dark blue box, which Ji-Hyuk opened with flourish as if it's hold a treasure in it, revealing a stunning ruby ring. Without a word, he slid the ring onto her finger, his eyes glinting with triumph.

The room erupted into applause and cheers, the noise almost deafening her. Ji-Hyuk's smirk grew, his lips curling into a cruel smile as he mouthed the words, "You are mine now, forever." Pleasuring from her tears sliding from her eyes the guests that the guests are oblivious to her distress, mistook her tears for joy, or simply chose to ignore them.

Tormented.

Hatred.

Anger.

Is all she felt. Those negative feelings spread thoughtout her body like a poison bit by the snake in front of her a man, who is smiling so wide, so happy she wish to crush it and watch him suffer, cry, beg. Anything but happiness.

"Excuse me. I need to use the restroom". Without hearing his reply she march toward to the escape, gripping her grown and dug her fingers on the innocent fabric she wish to tore it right there and then. While the business man observed her every single little moments and drowning in her torment after all it's her punishment. Her punishment for humiliating and shaming him yesterday in front of those pest. As much as he urged to rip her head off he also realize she was a wild cat without a leash so as a good master he brought a leash on his name and put the ring of forever to always remind the woman she belongs to him in eyes of law and all and she should be submissive. Ah, the pleasure of breaking her fire.

𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

With arrogance drunk his mind, he mindlessly exchange strings of words to the pathetic men he deems until he frown glancing at his watch to still not find (Y/N) at his side. "Where is she ?" Certainly not ran away because it's stupid and such action from her is honestly disappointing so hopefully she won't sad him. Right ? Right. Because excusing himself he went to their shared bedroom and about to go outside not finding her when his ears perk at the shower water and immediately a smile curve.

His eyes burned with anticipation, his mind consumed by the promise of forbidden pleasure. He shed his tie, his movements deliberate as he walked to find the door unexpectedly open. Sweet, such a two-faced woman. It's really a sign of inviting him isn't it ? And indeed it was beholding a sight that made his heart race because there she stood beneath the shower's gentle caress, her clothes plastered to her body, accentuating every skin, every contour. The water had transformed her outfit into a translucent second skin, making her irresistible. Ji-Hyuk's onyx eyes devoured the sight, his gaze lingering on the way the fabric clung to her, highlighting the softness of her skin that he noticed the subtle stiffening of her shoulders, a whisper of awareness that she was no longer alone. A sly, sensual smile spread across his face as he stepped closer, his movements silent as a predator's. With a gentle, yet possessive touch, he wrapped his hands around her waist, his fingers brushing against her skin.

The water continued to cascade down, creating a sultry melody that accompanied his whispered words "Such a siren you are". His breath caressed her ear, his lips grazing her skin, as he pulled her closer, his body aligning with hers, the heat between them palpable.

Finally she turned, her movements unfolded like a tantalizing dance, each moment a promise of surrender. Her expression remained serene, yet her half-lidded eyes alike to velvet curtains covering her beautiful (E/C) eyes with water continued its gentle caress, dripping down her face, tracing paths of desire and her pink lips, inviting and plump, seemed to whisper a silent invitation, begging to be kissed, to be claimed.

Sending a painful thorb in his pants and without second thought forgetting the party, the people awaiting and everything he descended, anticipating a tender kiss when her grip on his shoulder electrified his body with a sudden, searing pain. She slammed him against the wall, his head cracking against the hard surface, sending a jolt of shock and taken a back through his veins escaping a low groan from his lips yet she showed no mercy, her fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head back with a fierce cry. His vision blurred, the room spinning around him, as she smashed his head into the wall once more crashing his vision to be lost only seeing glimse of her hateful eyes.

☾ ───────────

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒘𝒆'𝐥𝐥 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘

As Ji-Hyuk's eyes fluttered open, a throbbing, sharp pain hit him like a sledgehammer, forcing his lids shut again. The harsh glare of the bathroom light bulb pierced through his brain, making him question his surroundings. Why was he in the bathroom ?

Gingerly, he sat up, and the pain struck again, making his head spin. Memories began to resurface, fragmented and hazy, like a dream. He recalled inviting (Y/N) to his birthday party, proposing to her in front of everyone...and then following her when she stormed off.

The memories came flooding back, and with them, the anger and humiliation widen his eyes. She had pushed him, violently, against the wall. The audacity! How troublesome women could be. She thought she could escape him? Ha! He would track her down, and when he did, he would be polite, coaxing her back with a gentle touch...or else she might flee again.

Ji-Hyuk stood up, shrugging off the stiffness in his shoulders and back. He dusted his already immaculate clothes, a habit born of precision and control. He walked outside to the bedroom, expecting to find her gone, "as I thought". A wry smile twisted his lips as he confirmed his suspicion.

Rolling his eyes, he headed downstairs to summon his butler, intending to order a thorough search of the mansion. After all, no one thought to look for a hiding person in their own home, do they? But before he could issue the command, the servant approached him with a knowing look.

"Master, I think I should inform you...she left last night," the female servant said, her voice neutral. "She took her luggage and instructed us not to disturb you."

Ji-Hyuk's laughter echoed through the hallway, a low, menacing sound. "Ah, how delightful. She thinks she can outsmart me ?" His eyes gleamed with amusement, impressed by her audacity.

𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐, 𝒘𝒆'𝐥𝐥 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘

Ji-Hyuk's expression turned glacial, his voice dripping with calm anger. "Find her right now. I want her in front of me within 24 hours." His demeanor had shifted from amused to menacing, leaving no room for failure.

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘)

His butler, usually unflappable, appeared before him with a panicked expression. "S-sir, I-I have something to report..." he stuttered, parting his lips to deliver the unthinkable words: "She's gone forever, sir."

Ji-Hyuk's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with questions. What? How? What did he mean by gone forever" ? He demand an explanation when the door burst open, and a group of police officers entered, their presence a jarring surprise.

The sudden invasion of his private space, combined with the butler's ominous words, made Ji-Hyuk's head spin. He felt a growing annoyance, his control slipping. "What is the meaning of this ?" he demanded, his voice cold and authoritative.

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆��𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃 (𝒘𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘)

"Mr. Wang, you are under arrest for tax evasion, embezzling money from your shareholders and series of crime that are still under investigation". He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, his mind reeling with the implications.

"What ?"

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒎 𝑰 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 (𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐)

The butler's whisper jumbled words added to the chaos "All of the bank contracts, shareholder agreements and those important evidence are missing...and I've got a message from the bank that all of our money is gone, finished." Ji-Hyuk's gaze snapped to the butler, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and shock. "Someone took today early morning verifying it's you, sir".

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ?

The butler's voice cut through the chaos, "And I believe it's—" but Ji-Hyuk finished the sentence himself, his voice dripping with venom, "(Y/N)'s work, right ?" The setvant's nod was like a confirmation of the most unpredictable he never imagined.

"And the shareholders are very anger along other companies who's contracts are missing".

𝒐𝒉 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏', 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏', 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝐫𝐞 𝒔𝒐 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆

Ji-Hyuk's laughter echoed through the room, a cold, mirthless sound. "Ha! She was playing the bigger game, huh? I underestimated her...this time." He felt a wave of fury wash over him, realizing he was not only facing arrest but also financial ruin, all because of the woman.

Ji-Hyuk's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity as he muttered, "Oh, such a fierce woman cost me my ruin." The police officer's words droned on, a familiar litany of rights and warnings, but Ji-Hyuk's mind was elsewhere. How classic, he deem men pathetic who lost control by their lower part and here he is the same.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you and you have the right to an attorney..." The irony wasn't lost on him —he couldn't afford food let alone a lawyer now. The thought sent a fresh wave of complex emotions coursing through his veins.

His mind was else where though while the police's the cold metal of the handcuffs and the police officer's firm grip on his arm. Still Ji-Hyuk's smile never wavered, even as he was led away in disgrace, wondering where (Y/N), who he was ruined by is.

The sky above seemed to stretch out in endless splendor. The white clouds, fluffy and soft like cotton candy, gathered around the plane, casting a serene shadow over the landscape below. The sprawling cities, once bustling and overwhelming, now appeared tiny and insignificant, a testament to the power of perspective.

She couldn't help but gasp in wonder, her eyes fixed on the breathtaking view. She had never been on a plane before, let alone in first class, and the experience was almost surreal. The gentle hum of the engines, the soft glow of the cabin lights, and the attentive service of the flight attendants all combined to create an atmosphere of luxury and tranquility.

Somchai's voice cut through the hum of the plane's engines, his words dripping with genuine interest. "So, how are you liking it?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers, as if she was the only view worth beholding.

(Y/N) met his gaze, a laughter-filled smile spreading across her face. "Amazing," she replied, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "I've often seen how it looks from phone and TV, but never in real life...due to financial problems." She shared her truth without hesitation, her words unfiltered and raw.

Somchai's expression remained soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled, leaning on the seat besides her. "Well, now you won't have to," he said, his voice low and reassuring. The words hung in the air, a reminder of their shared secret— the plan to steal Ji-Hyuk's money, the plan that had brought them together.

Clenching her jaw, her heavy feet step towards the destiny she very much fears at the same time loathes. That's when a hand hold her wrist spinning her around and her eyes wide seeing the man.

"Somchai ?" The least person she expected to see stood in front of her.

"Boss, can I...for few seconds talk to her ?" He pleaded the general manager who looked skeptical however she didn't wanted because the only bit of dignity of her should be remain at her work place.

"No, Somchai. Please let me go". She tug her hand for him to lose yet not go.

"I am sorry, (Y/N) for holding you wrist against your will. But please, please talk to me". The way his eyes begging and brows frows together she nod getting the boss's permission too "Thank you. Thank you". Then only he let go before apologizing to hold her wrist.

After they went to another room.

She asked. "What is it ?"

"You are not really going to apologize right ? After all working in this industry I know this much first it's not your fault". Her eyes flick clenching her heart at the reality how by little humanity from a man seem like a blessing when it's nothing. "And second your life will forever be trapped once you she step foot into his mansion because he wants you".

"I know". Without emotions she lowered her gaze.

"And you are okay risking it all ?"

"Woman never have choice". Bitterly she said and he realize.

"Then how about create a choice ?" Her eyes confuse.

"What do you mean by that ?"

"The entire reason you are force to do this becsuse you lack financially and even if you did not lack it the man is powerful enough to strip you down until you are nothing so why not steal the reasons of your imprisonment ?"

"What ? How ?" She breathed looking at him as if he had horns in his head. However he smirked telling his plan of her pretending to be with him when in reality she is going to find Ji-Hyuk's all documents and papers of bank to steal his money and fly somewhere he can't find her in case he wants revenge or simply her.

"It's risky". (Y/N) shake her head. "And crazy". She added.

"Well it's better than doing nothing also I want to see you smile and free like you deserve". He smiles. "Like all women deserve.

As soon as she locked the door behind her, she pulled out her phone and dialed a familiar number. Somchai, the bar manager.

"Come to my place immediately ! I have gps tracker on my phone and I am sure people will tail me if I go out so come to my place". After that he went to her apartment where she showed him all the detail bank records she took when he was asleep.

"But there is something else too". (Y/N)'s words earned his attention and his eyes wide seeing even the shareholders and business companies contracts and corruption. "And I think we should leak the corruption and take the shareholders and other companies's money to frame him of stealing money also leaking their private information". Making them plan not only running away but also ruining him for once and all before running away that's why at the proposing day she knocked him out to escape.

"Thank you, Somchai, without you I do not what I could have done".

"It's alright". He simply shrug.

"Well, I am going to my home country where my father earlier transferred from to thailand but—". She side eyed him. "Why are you coming with me ?" And he put a hand on his chest, acting as if he is in pain.

"Ouch ! You wound me. I thought you would be happy".

"I am but..." She tailed off laughing. "You seem to be a romeo helping his Juliet after all. O my gosh ! What am I saying, I do not like that story at all". A disgust expression cast her face.

"Ah ! Why not ? It's such a tragic love story". The bar manager argued.

"Right, love story more like a impulsive infatuation". She roll her eyes.

Somchai chuckled humbly "Also, indeed, I am not a Romeo." He confessed with a sheepish grin, acknowledging his unromantic past. After graduation, Somchai was a free spirit, splurging money with his friends, and living life on his own terms. His days blurred together in a haze of adventure and recklessness until one day he saw a girl, a beautiful girl he swear took his breath and her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and her profession, rather than shocking him, filled him with admiration for her fearlessness and dedication. Unlike his past self, who had been coasting through life on his father's wealth, (Y/N) worked tirelessly, unapologetic inspired him to stop relying on his family's influence, left bad influence and joined the very same complex to protect his secret crush blossomed into love from alongside even if she isn't his, Somchai is proud of her independence as long as he can stay beside her.

"Good because I can't see you becoming one".

"Really ?" Amused he laughed.

"Really". She sweetly said. "Somchai". At her smile his heart swelled with joy, knowing that he was the cause of her happiness making him bliss to simply be near her, to bask in the warmth of her presence, and to watch her shine.

"You really know how to make a person—".

"What ?" (Y/N) cut him off excited.

Laughing he finished "Enslave".

FIN

⌜ This story is inspired and I thought to turn the lines of song ❛ make you mine by public ❜ into my dark thriller. It was fun and hopefully you like it ⌟

[dragonskxn]

🍂🎃EVENT: DRACONIC HARVEST FESTIVAL 2024🎃🍂

It's harvest time on Annalise's farm, and she's welcoming guests to stop by and enjoy delicious food and fun activities! Dress up and join the costume contest, go for hay rides, and gorge yourself on homemade farm fresh food!

🐷 Please like and/or reblog this post if you are interested in participating! 🐷

-------

The event starts Friday, October 11th, 2024, around 12 p.m. EST, and will continue throughout the weekend until Monday, October 14, at 11 p.m. EST.

Activity Schedule:

Pig Race: October 11th — October 12th

Costume Contest: October 13th — October 14th

Event will be tagged as #draconicharvest2024.

🍂🎃RULES🎃🍂

This is a casual event for muses to mingle and have fun! Muses can cause some mischief and/or drama with others if they wish, but please refrain from starting any OOC drama. Please be sure to respect the boundaries of participants, and be kind!

No invitations are required for this event, nor do muses have to pay to get in. Walk-ins are welcome, but please be sure to greet the hostess so she knows you're here!

Muses are allowed to bring their own food and activities to add to the festival.

If your muse is participating in the costume contest, please either post their costume with the event tag and @ my blog in the description to notify me, or personally DM me or send an ask/submission with their entry. Please submit entries BEFORE October 13! Entries may be submitted before the actual event starts as well.

The costume contest has no theme, so muses can dress however they'd like. Couples costumes, siblings costumes, parent + child costumes, or matching friends costumes count as one entry (please be sure to submit one picture of both muses wearing their costumes together if so!).

Polls for the costume contest will be posted ASAP on Sunday, October 13. If there are more than ten participants, multiple polls will be made for muses to vote in character for their favorites. The remaining winners of each poll will be placed in a final showdown poll, and the final winner will receive a special gift from Annalise.

Muses can not vote for themselves during the costume contest; they must cast a vote for another.

The pig race mini event will occur on Friday as soon as the event starts. Multiple pigs will be placed in a Tumblr poll, and muses can bet on which pig they think will win by voting. The pig with the most votes will be the winner, and a post will be made to automatically distribute prizes to those who voted for the winner.

Alcohol will be served at the event for adults, but no drugs are allowed, as child muses are allowed to come to the festival. Please drink responsibly!

Activities and Menu Rundown: (x)

[kykyonthemoon]

Limerence (noun) — a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.

⋆˚✿˖° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.

⋆˚✿˖° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce is "she/her/hers".

⋆˚✿˖° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, emotional and mind control, manipulation, love spell, obsession, unrequited love, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, m.urder, s.uicide attempt.

⋆˚✿˖° Leonard is my OC.

⋆˚✿˖° Read more chapters:

✦ Xavier's ✦ Zayne's

⋆˚✿˖° Masterlist

⋆˚✿˖° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x

Chapter: The Muse — in which he brings the world his most significant work of art.

⋆˚✿˖° Word count: 3k1

These days, the artist community was vibrant, with some even competing for acceptance to the exhibition at Mo Art Studio.

So did Leonard. He had to rush around and ask for help everywhere in order to be given a chance. Money was not an issue, but the host of this exhibition was certainly not an ordinary person. He wasn't offering tickets to the highest bidder, but rather to those who possessed an artistic vision and passed his evaluation.

“The ticket will be sent to you within the next three days. Please keep in touch.” The other end of the line cut the discussion off, but Leonard's mind remained lightheaded, unable to believe the gift he had just received.

“Wait…” He spoke before the other person hung up. “Excuse me… May I do an interview with that artist in the exhibition?”

There was no response. Leonard believed they were reviewing his proposal. He held his breath and wait for a while, then the manager named Thomas spoke:

“We do not accept interviews. But a few individual queries could suffice. Of course, if you are able to leave a good impression.”

"I got it. Thank you."

Putting the phone aside, Leonard leaned back in his office chair. How to impress Linkon's most talented painter, or should he say - the world's best artist? Despite his young age, there was no one in this city who had never heard of his work.

The artist's name was Rafayel. He became well-known for his landscape paintings, which brought admirers to a dreamlike state when they stood in front of them. He seldom appeared in public, despite having organized hundreds of major and minor exhibitions. Who he truly was remained a question, and the most mysterious part was probably his disappearance a year ago.

For a whole year there were no new paintings or art activities. No one saw him in Linkon during that time. His manager and studio kept it silent, as if everything had evaporated overnight. Then, last weekend, he unexpectedly reappeared and made an important announcement, which was an exhibition called The Muse.

In contrast to his previous events, guests had no idea what they were about to witness. According to the majority of internet comments, Rafayel returned with a work of a lifetime, a painting that exceeded anything he had ever created. That was the final result of a year-long hunt for inspiration. Of course, there were those who believed he was steadily degrading since he hadn't been able to draw anything decent in a long time and had simply planned this event to earn some money.

For Leonard, either truth was fair. He must uncover all of the details and secrets surrounding Rafayel's reappearance. Since that was what he did for a living.

Leonard was a journalist who specialized in arts. Despite his greatest efforts over several years, he still had little hope of succeeding. He had been without a single decent piece for a long time. Then the opportunity to visit the Mo Art studio presented itself before his eyes. He was not going to miss the chance to see a place that had never been accessible to the public before.

The day of the exhibition approached. Leonard had purposefully showed up early, but as he reached the gate, he noticed that about fifty formally dressed guests were already present. They were enjoying wine and food as they walked in groups into the main hall, where the primary event was held. Leonard also entered with nervousness. All of the windows and doors were wide open, allowing the sea air to convey a salty fragrance into the hallway. Rafayel's famous works are framed, and hung or placed in the center of a floral garden that the host tenderly arranged himself, giving guests the impression that they had just lost themselves in the Garden of Eden.

However, that was not the primary attention of the event. Something massive and cylindrical appeared in the center of the hall. It spanned from the ground to an exceedingly high glass ceiling. It had a diameter of up to ten meters, and was covered in a crimson velvet fabric, protecting it from inquisitive eyes of guests. Even the personnel had not an idea of what was inside.

"Rafayel did all of this himself." Thomas, the manager, spoke up. "I can't answer your questions because I'm not sure what's there. But whatever it is, it will undoubtedly live up to the name of his Muse."

The flock of intrigued guests around Thomas nodded, then split out to stroll around and admire the pillar, as if its very presence was already an art. To them, the less they comprehended something, the more valuable it became.

Leonard found a seat close to the window but not too far from the center of the hall. He was afraid of missing the opportunity to witness Rafayel's Muse. Late in the afternoon, the sun glided across the horizon, casting golden rays into the place. The guests began to get tipsy, wondering if Rafayel would show up or if this was all a hoax, when, down the stairs, the host of the party appeared.

He donned a lavish dark blue suit with sculpted sleeves and shoulders that looked to be encrusted with spectrum fish scales. His presence was as magnificent as his name, causing the entire hall to fall silent. Guests held their breath as they watched the young artist stroll down the steps, the heels of his shoes reverberating on the marble floor as if a piece of music had just been executed.

“Welcome to the exhibition.” Rafayel spoke in a solemn voice. "It appears that all of the guests here are wondering; what exactly has he been doing during the past year? Why didn't he present any of his new work? What's the point of this exhibition?"

Rafayel halted for a moment, his dark eyes behind a few purple curls scrutinizing each guest individually, as if reading them all. The corner of his mouth twisted up in delight as he effectively piqued everyone's interest. He resumed his speech:

“It all began with a muse. My muse. That's a story perhaps a lucky visitor would unveil in this exhibition. But for now…” Rafayel lifted a hand. “Let me introduce you to my one and only, Muse.”

The scorched cloth transformed into crimson tiny particles that flew all about, blending into the fiery sunset outside. The crimson sun halted in the center of the room's largest window, and emerged as an illusion was Rafayel's Muse.

Leonard blinked. In front of him stood a tank of water with a thick glass cylinder. The inside was ornamented with flowers, coral, and white pillars of broken plaster encircling an oval of the glass tank, offering him the sense that he was staring at a lost city under the depths of the ocean. There were schools of brilliant small fish swimming around, weaving between the crevices of the broken world. In the midst of the tableau, there was a woman floating in the water in an upright stance, a few meters above the tank's bottom, conveying an illusion that she was flying. Her head was adorned with pearl jewelry, eyes were closed, as if she was in deep slumber. Her hands opened, allowing the orange-red fish to whirl around her wrists. Then they invited each other to swim along her tiny unclothed arms, to her exquisite neck covered in shimmering pearls, and down to the thin white garment that was floating in the water like her own body. Her bare feet lingered above the seaweed, as if to tease them with the fact that they were unable to grasp her no matter how hard they tried.

A beauty out of this world. That was what Leonard's mind could think of. When he came here, he was full of determination to discover Rafayel's secret, but now, when he witnessed its beauty with his own eyes, he was speechless. His brain felt empty, as if that beauty had filled it and he no longer needed anything else. A melodic rhythm could be heard somewhere, distant seemingly from another universe, but apparently emanating from the tank itself.

All guests were drawn to the center. Rafayel vanished among the crowd that was cheering him. Nobody suspected that Rafayel's Muse was not a painting but an entirely distinct thing. Whatever it was, she was the size of an adult in her mid-twenties. A statue or a doll that resembled a real person?

Leonard brushed past a few astonished others to get closer to the tank. Rafayel's exhibit could easily shock the entire art field. Leonard had already begun pondering concepts for his next piece. Unlike the other guests, who were merely engaged in the beauty in front of them, he was more enthralled by the narrative behind The Muse.

Who was she? Where did her story begin? Leonard sought around for Rafayel's silhouette but could not find him. However, near the stairs, he encountered Thomas with a look of panic and utter shock on his face.

“It can't be… No… It can't be her…” Those were the words Leonard could hear before Thomas bolted out of the hall.

There were just a few people invited to the show, and after approximately an hour, they had presumably spent all of their admiration and hypothesis on the tank. They met again in groups to tour Rafayel's studio. Who knows when they would be able to return here again, in ten, twenty, or even fifty years?

Leonard took advantage of the reality that people had left the area to approach closer and examine more, now that he was the only one standing nearby. The Muse was still inside, a smile on her lips, but why did Leonard feel a suffering coming from her? He strolled around the tank to better view her. It was hard to discern whether this was in fact a sculpture by Rafayel or a real person. That was also what the guests spoke about all day.

The Muse was so genuine. To the point that Leonard expected her to open her eyes and climb out of the tank. But she remained still, absorbed in her own undersea world. He stayed frozen, unable to move his gaze away from the tank, for Rafayel had previously stated that within this, his secrets hidden.

Yet Leonard, with his mundane eyes, might never discover it. The only thing he found was possibly a tiny coating of pinkish red water coming from The Muse's breast. That ruby hue seeped through the attire that enveloped her, and it looked nothing like the color that Rafayel often used in his paintings. There was something rather odd about it. It resembled blood, from The Muse herself.

The exhibition came to an end.  Guests departed on their own after being notified. Rafayel returned to the lobby. Leonard took the opportunity to ask in an instance:

“Mr. Rafayel. May I ask you a few questions regarding the exhibition?

Rafayel gazed at him. To increase his reputation, he identified himself as a journalist who specialized in writing about art.

"Ah. "I remember you." Rafayel responded. "Among the guests, you were the only one who gave an impressive answer to my question."

Leonard tried to recall the survey he was required to complete before Thomas reached him to inform he had an invitation. These questions were all about Rafayel's career, and the answers were readily accessible online. There was just one question, the last one, that sparked a lot of consideration in Leonard, while having nothing to do with Rafayel's works at all.

"If you were given a magical spell that made the person you love love you forever, would you use it?" Rafayel reiterated his query. "You're the only one who chose not to."

Leonard nodded. It was truly what he had said.

"May I know, why?" Rafayel glanced at him with curiosity. Leonard was taken aback, as he had come here expecting to be an interviewer. Who would have guessed it was the other way around?

"A spell is just an illusion." Leonard responded honestly. "That is not love." "Love must come from a true heart."

"A true heart…" Rafayel repeated each word. His eyes were as sorrowful and deep as the tranquil water, yet it was terrifying since he had no idea when the storm would arrive. "Perhaps, she would choose the same answer as you."

"Pardon?…" Leonard interrupted Rafayel's thoughts. "Who are you talking about?"

Rafayel smiled but remained silent. Fearing that the young artist might leave without answering, Leonard impatiently said:

“Aren't you talking about your Muse? Can you tell me who she is?”

Rafayel gazed at the girl in the aquarium. He smiled. Just a small movement of the lips conveyed devotion, anguish, and regret.

"She is my true heart." Rafayel's voice resembled a song. But he said nothing more, and Leonard was asked to leave right away.

The Muse's story was forever a mystery. The mystery that Leonard had yet to come very close.

That story began a year ago. Or perhaps, it had originated a long, long time ago.

When a Lemurian gives their heart to someone, it will die if not reciprocated.

Rafayel had given his to a human girl.

He met her when she was a child. She was his savior when he was expecting such a painful death on land, and she helped him return to the sea.

She could not remember who he was, nor did she know that all those years, he had been watching her from afar. Amid the waves, behind the rocks, he watched her grow up.

He met her again as a painter many years later. She happily accepted his company. But it was not all he wanted. He longed for her. He craved her touch to make her become his, in the way he had determined his heart belonged to her.

But, her heart belonged to someone else.

A year ago, she told him that she was getting married.

Rafayel could not recall how frightening his emotions were. No matter how powerful the storms were at sea, they could never match his rage at the time. And, with a dreadful calamity brewing in his head, he did what he did to her.

He bound her with an ancient Lemurian enchantment. He made her fall desperately in love with him. She did everything for him, even abandoning her engagement and following him to a far away place. A secluded island only for them. Glorious summer nights lingered forever on the beach, when she and he were entangled, merging in the waves of never-ending love. He had her how he wished.

However, like an illusion, that spell did not persist forever. It drove her to insanity. She wandered alone on the shore, tears streaming and her mouth constantly crying out the name of the person she truthfully loved with each sob. She begged of him.

“Rafayel… Please… Let me go… Please… set me free… Set me free!”

Her screams were drowned in the ocean waves. Little did she realize that seeing her in this way made his heart bleed as well.

"Please…" She sobbed. Rafayel's dagger was in her grasp, and she pressed it to her throat. "If you won't let me leave... I must free myself..."

"Hush now, my dearest…" Rafayel quietly stretched out to her. This was not her first time in this state. He approached her, placed a hand on her forehead, and brushed away her wind-blown hair. Her fingers on the dagger tightened, urging him to back away. However, Rafayel seized the blade that was cutting into her neck, forcing his hand to bleed.

"You don't want to cut yourself, dear."

She trembled and stared at Rafayel. He hummed a very familiar melody, which made her thoughts muddled once more. The dagger slipped from her hand as she collapsed to her knees on the damp beach. Screaming.

“Be still, dearest love.” Rafayel gently lowered down. His knees were next to hers, as if he, too, was begging her to stay. “I can ease all our suffering… If you listen to me now…”

She covered her ears and shook her head with ferocity as if she never wanted to hear another word from him. Rafayel smiled in bitter. She had been like this lately, forgetting who she was and how profoundly she was in love with him. But that was alright. He would help her rekindle her love. She would obey at once as soon as he began singing.

He sang their song. He sang it the first time they met, and he still sang it day by day with her by his side.

She wept tremendously. She clutched her head and pleaded with him to stop. But Rafayel could never. Just like he could not stop the waves from crashing against the shore, who could ever stop his love for her?

After a while, she became quiet. No more yelling and pleading. She gave him an empty stare and a smile.

"Rafayel." She called his name. Her hand found his body, as though she had desired to be close to him since forever. Rafayel embraced her. He stroked and kissed the top of her head. His tears sank, condensing into pearls and nestling on her hair.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry for turning you into someone like this…” Rafayel whispered in her ear. “But I've found a way to fix everything. You shall not suffer any longer... And neither shall I..."

Rafayel held her with one hand as the other sought the dagger's hilt in the moist sand.

“Will you do this for me?”

He gazed into the eyes of hers which were dreamy under the spell of love. She nodded.

"I vow to do everything for my dearest beloved."

"Very good." Rafayel smiled as he kissed her lips. "You will always be my Muse… Mine, forever..."

The dagger swung across the fiery sunset. The water chanted its melody in an ancient ritual. Then everything fell silent.

Rafayel watched her passionately as she slept within the water tank he had specifically built for her. That was her home, now and forever.

His hand stroked across the beautiful design. Her body was adorned with jewelry crafted from his teardrops. She was a masterpiece of his lifetime, which extended to no end. His Muse. His lips found hers on the other side of the glass, and he pressed a kiss.

From now on, she would weep no more. She would feel no pain.

A crimson light emanated from inside the pocket near Rafayel's chest. He pulled out a blazing red protocore.

This entire world will soon know that, her true heart shall forever belong to him and him alone.

[seikkoi]

teaser | ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ (t. stark)

a/n: i have more time (finally) to actively work on this, so here's a little lighthearted snippet.

“Tell me, what are your thoughts on cyclamen–oo, or actually, narcissus, yeah, that’s better.” Tony asks like you've been having some sort of conversation before five seconds ago.

Jarvis locks the tamper in with a satisfied click as you stare back confused. You’re two blinks away from falling back asleep and desperately craving something stronger than green tea. 

“What are you-Is-Are those restaurants?” 

“Oh, morning ma’am. Shall I prepare you a tea, perhaps breakfast?” Jarvis turns at the sound of your voice, wiping damp grounds from his hands.

“Good morning, but no, just some coffee, please.” You try to sound natural. It’s weird giving someone else orders. 

“Nope, flowers. We could do something simple like a peony but I don’t think that matches the whole vibe with the satin garlands.” Tony continues. 

“Tony, hon, I have no idea what you’re on about right now.” you groggily slouch in the chair beside him. 

“We, my dear,” the newspaper is folded and plopped onto the table for dramatic effect, “are having a Christmas party.” 

“A Christmas party?” you muse with a laugh.

“For tax purposes, a gala. For my purposes, and therefore to make it fun, it is indeed a party, yes.” 

Espresso warms your veins as you listen to Tony ramble through plans for catering, guests, decanters and a whole bunch of other shit you can hardly keep up with. Good thing that responsibility falls to Jarvis, who jots away on a worn notepad. Once your eyes fully open, the thought starts to excite you. Your yearly festivities normally boiled down to a bottle of chardonnay and some loosely Christmas film like Die Hard. Your role as plus-one never went anywhere, but doing so at Tony’s your home would give you more confidence. 

“Plus, if I auction some art, it works out even more.” He punctuates his brilliant plan with a bite of a muffin. 

“That’s not like a massive trigger for you?” 

High-volume social events dropped off the radar recently, for good reason, you assumed (not that you minded a break from fake smiles and cold handshakes) . Instead, Tony dragged you along to more intimate dinners with whatever broker or councilwoman he needed to charm. 

“What are you, my sponsor?” he teases but you're less amused at the thought. 

“Do you even have a sponsor?”

“I have Jarvis.” He’s completely serious, and Jarvis hides his laughter behind a stack of plates.