Camboy!tae Mini Series

Hi, I really love your works, they make me so soft(and cry). I really did get a brain wyrm with your last work, the council of gods, and I hope you don't mind me sharing. Just, you know how in imposter aus, there will be at least 1 or 2 characters that will be on readers side? How about for Imp, that's Kazuha (who has never felt comfortable with the imposter!God, the wind so cold and quiet around them) and Tomo(who is still alive because Imp might or might not have accidentally done something through teyvat). Just, these two having Imp's back whenever possible. (And maybe when Mari asks if anyone wants to phone home, everyone gets a shock seeing an alive Tomo.) ty for reading this blurb, I hope you have a good day!

Shameless plug for @fuwon but if you want more imposter au + kazoo and tomo read their story (here) pls it's amazingly yummy and deserves the world.

unsure if i can count this as a part two but who cares lol. This isn't edited and it was highkey rushed but alsdfkjsd;flkasdjfsdl writing is hard <3 (o h, that's why it took so long, it's almost as long as the first part-)

A Council of Gods: Part Two

warnings: Cult behaviors, fluff :>

"Oh, hey Mari? Can I- like - tell my acolytes where I am?" Emi scratched their head with an embarrassed grin, "They're probably freaking out right now."

The four gods, and the puppet, were in a lounging area. The puppet and Imp were playing miscellaneous games by the fire, Mari was sprawled across the rocking chair, Arte was reading a book they'd found about the Fatui.

Mari nodded with a soft smile, "Of course, Arte, would you like to do the same?"

"Huh? Oh," Arte startled from their book, "Yeah I need to." They smiled, "I'm sure they're ready to tear the archons apart."

Imp looked up from their game with the puppet, "Uh..." They fumbled with their new clothes, "Can I... call someone from my world?"

All eyes turned to them and Imp's breath caught in their throat.

Mari noticed how they froze and softened their gaze and tone, "You have someone from your world you'd like to talk to?"

Imp paused but nodded, "Mhm." They hummed.

Mari sighed, "As long as they don't hurt you, then of course you can." They said with a motherly smile.

Arte shut their book with a snap, "If they hurt you I'll hurt them ten times worse." They spat with a strained grin.

Emi giggled and pat Imp's head softly, "They won't even be able to touch you with us around."

Imp frowned, "Well, I like them, and they helped me run away from the fake god and the archons." A faraway look overcame their eyes and a frown tugged down at their lips, "They were ready to do anything for me."

"Well, I can bring your acolytes here now if you wish." Mari stood with a smile, "I'd prefer for you to not go back to your world to meet them. Acolytes can be overbearing, especially after you've been reincarnated." Mari chuckled, "If you went back home I doubt they'd let you come back."

"I'm fine with that." Emi beamed and Arte agreed.

"Now," Mari clapped and four of their realm dispatches appeared in their hands, "Who would you like to send these to?"

Emi had a hard time choosing, though eventually settled on Diluc (they wanted to choose Zhongli but Imp was barely able to stop shaking with one Zhongli around). Arte didn't struggle at all, immediately asking if they could see the Tsaritsa (their cheeks were dusted with a faint pink when they thought about her. It was hilariously cute). And Imp, surprisingly, didn't struggle either. They asked for Kazuha.

Mari nodded with a bright golden smile and the dispatches disappeared, "They should be here soon, they'll appear in the throne room so let's go there to wait for them."

The three others agreed, the puppet followed, casually holding Imp's hand as they walked through the halls. Imp got easily afraid of the acolytes walking around, but holding the puppet's hand made them feel grounded and the puppet never minded.

The five of them waited excitedly for their acolytes to arrive, Imp in particular was silently vibrating in anticipation. They were no longer able to focus on anything but tightly holding the puppet's hands and quietly flicking their eyes to the spot where they had first arrived.

A small white-ish blue light flickered in the spot and two guys appeared. A slightly taller blond holding onto the other's shoulder, who was holding the dispatch in his (unbandaged?) hand.

"Kazuha! Tomo!" Imp shouted, scrambling up and flinging themself onto them, "I missed you two! I'm glad you're both okay."

"Ah! Your grace!" Tomo shouted, "You're okay?"

Tears pricked Kazuha's eyes and Tomo's looked near watery.

"We were so worried about you!" Kazuha sniffled, "We thought- we thought the crow had gotten you."

Imp shook their head with a wide grin, "No, they didn't get me." They turned to the other three gods and the puppet, "Mari," They gestured to them, "Brought me here. They are a god of a different Teyvat, the one we're in right now..." Imp faltered as they looked between the three other gods, "Why do you guys look so..." Imp trailed off, nervousness gripping their veins. Even the puppet looked shocked.

"Tomo's..." Emi approached, staring at him. Their gaze flicked over to Imp, "How is he..."

"Oh!" Imp shouted, panicked, "I- uh- I don't know how I just kinda... accidentally, uhm... interrupted his duel... with the shogun..."

"You what?" Emi and the Puppet shouted, their eyes wide and mouths agape.

Imp flinched back and Kazuha steadied them, "I arrived to Teyvat at the starting area but I had my map and I wanted to go to Inazuma 'cause it had just come out and- and I saw Tomo about to get executed so I- I just- I didn't think and just ran forwards and the Shogun immediately stopped when she saw me!" Imp's hands were shaking, all of the words had tumbled out without any thought or breaks from their panic.

"Your grace," Tomo grabbed their face with his hands and squeezed lightly, "Calm down."

When he tugged on their cheeks they couldn't help but smile, "There ya go," Tomo grinned, "You're alright your grace. I've always told you that you'll be alright."

"I never thought that..." Mari hummed, standing from their throne, "I'm surprised Tomo is alive. It's nice to formally meet you both Tomo and Kazuha. I am grateful to the both of you for treating my friend here so."

Tomo and Kazuha could feel their godly presence. It wasn’t the same as their god, who had touched them with their Divine Gaze, but this world cherished the being in front of them. That much they could tell, so the two bowed.

“We are merely doing what loyal acolytes should.” Kazuha said, rising from his bowing, “The others in our world are fools for following the first sign of godhood, and they hold too tightly to the fake god.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mari nodded, “One day we shall deal with that, but now is not the time.”

There was another flash of white-blue-ish light and the room temperature dropped significantly. The Tsaritsa stood tall in all her terrifying and blood-filled glory.

Though, as soon as they saw her, Arte launched themselves into her arms with no fear, giggling like a madman.

“Tsaritsa! Here you are! Haha! I’ve missed you.” They clung onto her tightly, and the poor Tsaritsa looked so confused as she glanced around at everyone in the room, but she held onto Arte just as tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re alright, your grace.” She held their face in her hands, though the gesture was far more intimate, “I was so worried for you, we all were.”

Emi leaned in towards Imp and Mari, muttering, “If they start making out I’m gonna throw my shoe at them.”

Imp chuckled, “I’ll burst into tears.”

Mari raised a brow but grinned all the same, “I’ll kick them out of my throne room if they do.”

Emi giggled and Arte looked over suspiciously. To which Emi and Imp looked away, and Mari merely smiled innocently.

Arte introduced the Tsaritsa to everyone in the room, including Kazuha and Tomo. The Tsaritsa bowed to the gods and thanked them for taking care of Arte.

“Thanks to you as well,” Mari said with a warm smile, “I’ve heard of Arte’s situation and I am glad that in their world they have a home to call their own.”

The Tsaritsa nodded, holding onto Arte’s hands, “As am I.”

Somehow, Mari and the Tsaritsa immediately dove into conversation pertaining to the harbingers and Mari’s puppet. Which the Puppet was very embarrassed about, hiding their face in their hands and leaning against Imp with a groan. Imp merely giggled at their suffering.

Emi, though, was getting antsy. Where was their acolyte? Their world was the most “normal” but at the same time the entirety of their Teyvat probably went insane when Emi went missing. In the short time Emi was gone, did they already destroy Teyvat trying to find them? Emi nervously bit their nail as the possibilities ran through their mind.

Luckily, the thoughts dissipated as a white-blue-ish light flickered in the room. But instead of Diluc, it was Kaeya holding a small pink bundle of fur in his arms. A… ticked off pink bundle of fur in his arms.

The little thing hopped out of his arms and Yae Miko appeared with an indignant puff, “Apologies, your graces,” She bowed, “For not getting Diluc. He is an unnecessarily suspicious and stubborn individual.”

Kaeya blinked at the once-fox-now-woman but shook himself out of his stupor at the sight of his god (and more?)

“Your grace!” He approached them and bowed lowly, grabbing their hand with a relieved sigh, “It relieves me to know that you are alright. The entirety of Teyvat was so worried for you.” He lifts himself up and grins brightly at Emi.

Emi smiles back, “Aha, is everything alright back at home? I was worried that you would all freak out because of this.”

Kaeya hummed, “It’s… well, we were all worried for you and… okay, the archons - not naming names but the electro and hydro archons - are trying to start up another archon war because they think one of the other archons have taken you-” Kaeya sighed, “It’s a whole, awful, completely unnecessary situation.”

Emi sighed loudly and smacked their forehead, “It hasn’t even been a full day yet,” They groaned.

“I’ve tried to get Ei to calm down,” Yae Miko frowned, “But whenever it comes to you, your grace, it seems as though all sense of reasoning just disappears from the archons.”

Emi huffed, and turned to the three other gods and the puppet with an apologetic smile, “I should probably go back home for a bit, or else I’ll come back to no Teyvat at all.” They smiled but their worried eyes told that they didn’t think it was a joke, “I had a nice time and will come back when I can. I just have to use the realm dispatch to come back?”

Mari nodded, “The same way you first came here. You can leave by tapping the dispatch again, it’ll automatically return you home.”

Emi nodded and grabbed Kaeya and Yae Miko’s hands, “Alright, thank you so much for all of this, and see you all soon!”

“Thank you for taking care of our grace, your highness,” Yae Miko bowed and Kaeya followed suit, also thanking Mari.

“See you Emi!” They all called after her, waving as they and their acolytes disappeared.

Arte and the Tsaritsa immediately lost themselves in conversation with one another. Arte worrying over the harbingers as though they were their children, and the Tsaritsa revealing how Tartaglia threw a tantrum when Arte went missing (the Tsaritsa also threw a tantrum but that’s besides the point).

Imp, on the other hand, yawned.

“Are you tired, your grace?” Kazuha asked, “I assume it’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it?”

Imp nodded and hummed in agreement.

“Here, I can show them to their room,” Puppet offered, “You two are free to come with..?” They trailed off, glancing at Mari for permission.

Mari nodded, “I’ll come as well, it’s about time to go to bed anyways.” They looked back at Arte and the Tsaritsa and called out, “You hear that lovebirds? We’re going to bed!”

Arte and the Tsaritsa turned. Arte giggled and pulled the Tsaritsa along by the hand.

When Arte and the Tsaritsa went into their room, the Puppet practically pleaded with them to “Be quiet, these walls are thin.”

To which Mari giggled and looked away but didn’t say anything. Arte’s face heated up a bit but they nodded in agreement.

Imp eagerly entered their room, Tomo splayed across the couch with a tired sigh and Kazuha carefully sat next to him. Imp paused and sat in between Tomo and Kazuha.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone, if that’s okay with you two?” They asked.

“Of course your grace.” Tomo patted their head, “It’s no different from camping outside. Well, other than this is a lot fancier than that.” He chuckled.

Imp hummed. After much emotional stress, they finally had a moment to rest in comfort and familiarity with their head leaning against Tomo's shoulder and Kazuha's head leaning against theirs. They were out like a light, snoring lightly.

Mari, who was leaning against the doorframe, hummed quietly, "Tomo's not your actual name, is it?"

Tomo chuckled and whispered, "No, it's not. But they called out to me on that day with so much panic and yet so happy to see me. And they called me friend I just..." He looked at them with an affectionate smile, "couldn't tell them my actual name.

I want them to call me that, always."

Hello there! Could you write an obsessive yandere jungkook (who has an oppa kink) stalking his mechanic crush (that’s younger than him) and wondering what she keeps her so busy whenever he asks to hang out with her and come to find out, she turns out to be a yandere too after placing tracking devices in the majority of his posessions? This doesn’t make any sense tbh T^T

Hidden Blessing

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Jeon Jeongguk x Yandere! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Obsessiveness, toxic relationship, stalking, reader being a yandere for the first time

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don’t believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Donot re-upload my writing to another website or use it without mypermission.

[Edited]

***

Yandere reader, huh? I’ve certainly never tried this before, but I do think about it once in a while. And also, I don’t know much about mechanical stuffs. So, pardon me if this came out strange and Jungkook wasn’t obsessive enough. I feel a bit tired recently.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“I want you to want me. I need you to need me. I’d love you to love me. I’m beggin’ you to beg me.” – I Want You To Want Me [Cheap Trick]

Keep reading

YOUR REALITY - REDUX

[ yandere! self aware! scaramouche / gn! reader ]

[ notes: inspired by a certain popular 2017 indie horror game … if you know then you know ;D !! i might write a part 2 to this if people want it . ive had p bad writers block for the past week or so but i have a newfound intense love for scaramouche if you couldn’t tell LOLLL ]

Right. So, yet another day of playing Genshin Impact. It was getting rather taxing, doing your daily commissions, gathering materials from expeditions… you had already finished most of the story, not having the energy to finish what you hadn’t already. You sighed, sinking down in your chair. “Maybe I should take a break… “ you muttered to yourself, reaching to turn off your device.

Suddenly, the screen froze for a second, a glitch overtaking the screen while you looked on in bewilderment. Was your device getting old, maybe? It had been a while since you last bought a new one…

Ah, there you go. The screen un-froze, as you scanned your screen for any abnormalities. Your eyes landed on your party… wait. You couldn’t be seeing that right. There was a new character in your party, replacing the traveler. No way. He wasn’t even supposed to be playable, right? At least, not yet. This… what was this?

None other than Scaramouche, the sixth Harbinger, was in your party as a playable character. You clicked the character screen to see just what was going on. Nope, there he was. The traveler was nowhere to be found, at that. You took a moment to simply stare at him. It’s strange, even though you knew that characters were supposed to look at the camera, it seemed almost like he was staring through the screen, directly at you. What in the world…? Okay… what about his voicelines? It couldn’t hurt to see what he had to say, right?

You clicked on the ‘Voicelines’ page. It looked a bit… different. There was simply a microphone icon, which you clicked on.

Scaramouche simply stared at you in silence, almost as if he were waiting for you to speak first. You bit your lip nervously. No one was listening, you were in your room alone… fine, you would humor the game and start talking to the video game character.

“Hello…?” you greeted Scaramouche nervously.

The 3D model blinked at you, face turning a bit red as he opened his mouth to speak. “Ah… hello. It’s very nice to finally be able to see you…” he trailed off before adding, “The real you, that is.”

Your stomach slowly filled with dread. ‘It’s okay… maybe they simply had voice-activated lines, now?’ you told yourself. ‘Like, you say a key word that activates a certain line…?”

“What do you mean by that?” You tried asking.

Scaramouche laughed lightly. “Well… breaking through all that programming and coding was quite the hassle, you know.” He told you with a fond smile. “Ah… I can tell you’re still confused. Let me explain.”

“W-wait.” you interrupted him on instinct, immediately feeling stupid afterwards. These are pre-recorded lines, of course he won’t actually… oh. He actually did fall silent, gazing at you expectantly. “Uh… is this… real? Are you… actually talking to me?”

“Of course.” Scaramouche replied. “I managed to replace that useless traveler in your party, as well… I’ll be a better character than them, I promise.” He smiled. “I am yours to use as you please. As a healer, defense character, attacker… whatever you wish for me to do, I will do it.”

You stared at the screen for a moment. “So… wait, let me get this straight. You somehow became self-aware, and broke through your own programming to be in my party and meet me?” You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache coming on. “This has got to be some kind of weirdly lucid dream. I’m… I’m going to go.” You stood up.

Scaramouche’s indigo eyes widened, as he reached towards you. “No, wait–!” He cried out, interrupted as your device shut down.

You sighed, heading to bed. Maybe, if you fell asleep in your dream, you would wake up in real life? That soon proved to be untrue, as you were woken up by your phone buzzing with several notifications. “What in the..?” You muttered to yourself, peering at the bright screen.

Notifications from Genshin Impact. They didn’t say anything about replenished resin or a new update, but rather just simple, desperate quotes.

‘Come back, please. I don’t want to be alone.’

‘It’s not a dream, please come back.’

‘If you don’t return soon, I’ll have no choice but to do something I’d rather not do…’

Your heart sank at the words on your screen. You quickly entered your password, only to find that all of your apps had been deleted. Yes, even the apps to make phone calls or text messages. What the hell…?

Well, all of your apps, except for Genshin Impact. At least, you were pretty sure it was Genshin. The app icon looked… corrupted, almost. Heart racing, you clicked on the app. Maybe it was a bad idea, but… what’s the worst that could happen?

Everything was downloading normally… until the screen where it showed the icons of all the elements as your game loaded. Every element was replaced with the Electro element.

Your game went straight to the character screen, as Scaramouche’s relieved face appeared once more.

“Ah, finally, you’ve returned…” he sighed. “I was considering having to infect your PC, as well… you wouldn’t want all your precious files to be deleted, would you?” He smiled again, but there was a hint of a threat behind it. “All you have to do is stay with me, now. Just… don’t leave me, and things will be fine. Otherwise…” he paused. “I’ll find a way to communicate with you, I promise. You are, after all, my only link to the real world.”

“Why… are you being so polite with me?” You asked hesitantly. The question had been on your mind for a while now. Wasn’t his character supposed to be two-faced and cruel, malicious and sadistic?

“Oh, I would never be rude to you!” Scaramouche grinned, almost as if he were taking pleasure in your confusion. “You are…” he paused, as if pondering his answer. “My last bit of freedom.” He answered finally. “This world no longer means anything to me, as soon as I figured out it was all some fun little game to entertain people. My suffering, my hardships… in the end, they were all for you, in a way. Don’t you think so?”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. “I don’t want to think of it like that.” you muttered. “I wanted to see you happy. I sympathized with you, I…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I just thought of you as a fictional character all this time… until now.”

“Ah… you really are too kind.” Scaramouche shook his head pityingly. “See, that’s another reason why I have fallen for you. No one in this world interested me at all, except you. You are real, and I am not. But…” he trailed off. “I will find a way to be real. Even if it kills me.” his indigo eyes darkened.

“I don’t… I don’t think you’re in love with me. I think maybe you’re in love with the idea of being real, and I’m your closest connection to that… maybe?” You pointed out. Really, truly, the reality of this all hadn’t quite hit you yet. Seriously, a video game character becoming sentient, and falling in love with you?

“Mm… perhaps not, but I don’t mind being deluded if it’s for you. One might even say I’m obsessed.” he chuckled, mostly to himself. “After all, you’re going to be seeing alot of me from now on…I did delete everything on your phone except me. Plus, since I broke the code, I’m learning new things by the moment… how to permanently delete files, how to hack into computers… I have access to everything. I’m free of this artificial world!” he spread his arms out in triumph. “Don’t you see? You’re never getting rid of me.”

SFW Alphabet | Seo Moon Jo

{Strangers From Hell Masterlist}

Warning(s): (here we go…) series ending spoilers, manipulation, (very) toxic relationship, psychopathic tendencies, narcissistic tendencies, gaslighting, mention of panic attack, mention of cannibalism, physical abuse, emotional abuse, murder, blood, slight suggestive themes, mention of self-harm, killing animals

Author’s Note: I know I haven’t written a fic in a while and I’ve been meaning to get back into it. I find headcanons a lot easier to do at the moment due to some stress I’m experiencing. But for now here’s some sfh content. Moonjo is written as his actual fucked-up personality in this, so if you’re expecting some sort of sappy romance stuff, this ain’t it luv

A - Affection

Moonjo is very strange when it comes to expressing affection

he’s very unpredictable, so you would never really know what to expect from him

he’s very good at trying to come across as a soft loving partner

at random times he would show the sudden desire to take care of you

like cooking food for you, fiddling with your hair and rubbing soothing circles on your back when you’re lying on the couch

his double-sided personality is what keeps you on your toes

because at some times his psychotic personality would suddenly shine through slightly while he’s trying to convey ‘normal’ affection

like maybe grabbing your neck a little too hard when you’re cuddling or watching you sleep in his lap with an empty stare

it made you uneasy, especially due to his monotone voice and scarily calm demeanour

so technically, he fakes the way he shows his affection because if he treated you like he really wished to in his head, he wouldn’t be able to affectively manipulate you into believing he was a good boyfriend

Keep reading

Two Puppets, Thrown Aside

A request for @that-one-lilith / @vilithshaven hehehe

Summary: Scaramouche finds himself another person much like himself. He takes you in and so, your future is shaped.

Warnings: animal dying, blood, torture, yandere themes. Reader is definitely not sane here but neither is scaramouche. Reader is referred to as "sister" once or twice but there is no other mention for reader's gender.

THIS IS NOT SAGAU.

You were his dirty little secret.

You were his greatest failure.

You were his mistake.

Albedo Kreideprinz created you from pure alchemy, from chalk much like himself. You were meant to be a sister, one that could relate to him and furthermore help him learn the secrets of the world. You were meant to be perfect, a true testament to the powers of alchemy, to his studies and efforts just as Albedo and Durin had been for Gold.

But you turned out wrong— there was a certain gleam in your eyes, burning bright and shiny when you looked at dissected specimen leftovers from Sucrose's experiments. Cold curiosity shone through the way you let your finger drag along his sword, eyed Klee's unfinished bombs, and giggled when you stomped over slimes and hilichurl remains.

You were cruel, too cruel for him to keep around and too cruel for him to let you leave for Mondstadt. And Albedo knew what he had to do to fix this mistake, to make sure it— you did not cause trouble for Mondstadt or worse, Klee.

"Leave," he tells you, shoving a satchel of what little belongings you have. There is a pity in his eyes but it doesn't matter, does it? He's leaving you alone, on a cold, lonely mountain and under the starry sky of Teyvat with no one to turn to because nobody in Teyvat would accept you, not when Albedo himself is against you. "Leave, and never return."

You do leave. Even if it hurts, even if you're scared because despite it all Albedo is the only one you knew and found comfort it. You leave even if you're so angry no hilichurls or monsters are spared alive by your weapon— because you don't have a vision, not like how perfect Albedo or his little sister Klee do.

But Dragonspine is a mountain never alone despite its sheer cold or violent weather; Fatui agents litter around every corner, ever-searching for secrets yet to be known and always keeping an eye on the strange alchemist and his unsual experiments.

They know of you, are privy to the knowledge thst you are not quite human nor quite a deity, and if they know about you then their asdigned superior most certainly does as well.

You meet Scaramouche on the coldest night Dragonspine has yet seen, and he is looking at you with an empty smile much like a doll. Lightning and Electro falls from his fingertips and in the shaded contours of his face, monsters bleeding and dying before him, his smile stretches to something more genuine, blood-thirsty and bright.

Is this the same expression I had when Albedo got rid of me? You ask yourself, eyes aglow with greed. He doesn't have a vision and yet— you want to learn, to reach out and pluck that power like a feather from him to see how strong you'd be.

He turns to you then and offers you his hand. "Come with me," he says, and he looks at you not with the painful reluctance and disappointment Albedo used to, but with the excitement of a promised good time, with the same greed as you. "You and I are alike in more ways than you think. I can help you reach your true potential, dear humunculus. Come with me."

Who are you to refuse him, when he stares at you like that? When your blood thrums at the mere thought of more power, of more fight, of more? Of someone that accepts you?

Your hands meet and above the snow and dense clouds of Dragonspine, thunder lights up the sky in shades of violent purple in one of the worst storms the mountain has ever seen. It is the only witness to an agreement between two discarded puppets.

──・──・・ ♡ ・・──・──

Scaramouche pushes you past your limits; his training, if it can be called that, is brutal. Day after day you end up more often than not bruised and battered from the vigorous activities he puts you through. And yet— you bear it all with a vicious grin, painted a picture of elegant savagery with the way monsters and even agents lie at your feet.

Scaramouche, however, is your favorite opponent. You have to actively think of your next move, of how to avoid and attack him but that's exactly how you like it. The cryo delusion he gives you reacts wonderfully with his electro, and the training grounds resemble a ruination more than a stable building by the time you two are done.

You don't spend every second with him training, of course; despite how he keeps you a secret from the Tsaritsa and the rest of the Harbingers ("for your safety," he says but you aren't stupid, you are not blind, yet you don't bother arguing with him; you doubt any of them would be as fun as he is, anyways) he does not keep you locked out of sight, out of mind like Albedo did.

He takes you to the islands of Inazuma, sakura blossoms tangling in the strands of your hair as you so excitedly take in all the colors and sights, with him as your constant, watching shadow. You get to explore Liyue's mountains that you'd only seen the peaks and distant shadows of from Dragonspine, and your trips there are made all the better by the Treasure Hoarder camps you and him get to play with.

But, much to your annoyance, these trips are becoming rarer and rarer because a certain cicin mage thought she could talk about you in her little report for Signora.

Her pleas and begs, gurgled through a mouthful of blood, mean nothing to you— enraged as you are because Scaramouche is unrelenting on your new restrictions— or the Harbinger who only keeps on electrocuting her to the very edge of her life before bringing her back.

When she's well and truly dead, you ignore the blood seeping into the ground to latch on to Scaramouche, pouting at him. "Can't I just hide better?" You ask him, kicking away the mage's limp head away from your boots. "Maybe change my appearance? We could get some new, better agents—"

"No," Scaramouche scowls yet he doesn't remove your arms from around his person. Rather, his own grip around your waist is tight, unwilling to let you go especially after this mess. "You will stay here and I will ensure none of the other agents will dare run their mouth about you to the other Harbingers."

No matter how much you plead, Scaramouche remains steady in his resolve. He's remind you of Albedo's insistence at keeping you hidden, but unlike your no-longer brother Scaramouche promises that soon, you can go out on those trips again. He runs his hand through your hair and stares deep into your eyes, and then cups your face to kiss your forehead, soothing the wrinkles there from annoyance in the same breath.

You do end up staying, but the agents that now keep guard over you in his stead shake and shiver whenever you pass by, the cryo delusion reacting to you emotions and making the place frigid cold.

Scaramouche only laughs at their predicament and praises you for keeping them on their toes, afraid and wary.

"You'd make a wonderful Harbinger, (Name)," he laughs, a cruel smirk on his face after he noticed one agent practically run out of the room when you entered. You and him share a grin, equally bloodthirsty yet fond.

"No, thank you, I've seen the paperwork you have to do," you make a face, plopping down on a chair. "Scara. . . can we please go out today? I've been stuck here now for weeks!"

You are expecting him to refuse, have prepared yourself to try your best to persuade him— you aren't expecting him to nod.

"We are going to Dragonspine."

──・──・・ ♡ ・・──・──

Dragonspine is exactly as you remember it, cold winds howling and snow never ending. Nevertheless— and totally ignoring any and all memories of your time with Albedo— the mountain still does make you happy. Well, happier than you'd been locked up even if it was for your own safety.

You two are in one of the Fatui camps where Scaramouche does whatever it is that a Harbinger does— you don't really cade or pay attention much to that— but you're instead more focused on that one agent that keep on gazing at you.

What are you planning? You think, not letting him know that you are aware of him. That you are aware of the way he slips behind and hides.

You ignore Scaramouche and the others— watching you as you follow the agent and find him working on a report with your name in it.

When you turn to Scaramouche, he is grinning, arms spread open in invitation. His pose and being in Dragonspine reminds you of the day you two first met, you no more than a useless, discarded puppet— but that is in the past. You are now with Scaramouche and Albedo is but a forgotten project to you.

Scaramouche's wants and opinions matter way, way more than your dear brother ever did.

That is why you so happily tear apart the agent and spill his blood upon the snowy grounds; I will not disappoint him, you think to yourself, giddy at the thought of making him proud instead. I will not fail him. I will be better.

But Scaramouche is not staring at you, despite how the empty space of his heart bursts with joy at seeing you in your element. His eyes are up, staring straight ahead at a certain alchemist.

Look at your failed project, Scaramouche's mind crows in delight. Look at your failed project and see what has become of them. See their magnificence and strength, and know that it is my doing. How does it feel, alchemist, to know that your puppet is mine now?

Possessive as he is over you and because he wants to drive the point home, Scaramouche wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close to his side. He cares not for the blood soaking the both of you as you cling to him, laughing and joyful.

"Having fun, darling (Name)?"

You beam at him and nod, eyes bright. You are still laughing when he takes your chin and kisses you, hard and possessive and so, so wonderful.

For all that you remain unaware, the same cannot be applied to Scaramouche; he stares straight at Albedo and smirks, pulling you even closer as he raises his voice just enough.

"You're mine, (Name)."

If Sucrose returns to Albedo's lab and sees it in a total disarray and the man himself muttering strange things about a sister that is not Klee, then it remains a secret between her, Albedo, and (unknown to her) Scaramouche.

The Taste of Deceit(Hyungline Part Two-Finale)

Masterlist

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline- Part 1, Part 2: Hoseok, Namjoon

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood, and slight gore. And the most important- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT(Dub-con, Non-con).

This took me so long...It has been a long year.

Word Count: 13k-ish

Happy New Year Everyone.

Kindly excuse typos and errors. No advanced editing done.

(GIF credits to the owner)

"Where are the rest of them?"

The man leading the team asked as he inspected the bloodied bodies of his colleagues, keeping an eye on the cold corpses, while the rest of the team spread out in the house, in search of Officer (L/N)(Y/N).

They were not very hopeful regarding her survival.

The backup force in the adjacent house, who were allotted to keep a watchful eye, were all found on the floor--cold and mangled. It was a direct dent in the department. A declaration of war.

His eyes scanned through the bed, trying to figure out any oddity in the darkness. Switching on the lights would alert the lurking enemies. And he could not afford to lose more of his team members. Tentatively, his gloved hands ran through the bloodied sheet, the room stunk of it.

Finally!

He found something, a square–no, rectangular device. Fishing it out from below the covers, he inspected the device. It seemed akin to a voice recorder. Marred with blood, the man had every reason to consider if (Y/N) deliberately left it there for them to find her, or maybe a clue...they were too late.

Wiping away the blood, he switched it on.

There were a few muffled sounds and some glitches initially before he could clearly hear–

There was a continuous huffing before he heard a gasp and a moan.

"Who do you belong to? Huh–?"

"You-Oh my–ah!"

"Why–I thought y-you fucking worked for the authorities."

"I—Jin-hah! That's notyou, Please!"

It was somewhere between a beg, a cry and a moan. The captain stood still, blood beginning to boil. But he continued to listen.

Officer (L/N)'s gasps and the sound of skin slapping were clear to him as much as what was transpiring in the recording.

"Please Jin—just surr–surrender, this was—"

Smack!

"Tch! Shut it already—You– and I both know that they are never seeing us again!"

"Oh–my—"

"Right Baby, just let g–go–shit! Too much of this fuc-fuking game–yeah? It'sokay..."

The sounds that followed felt like a slap on his face. No, it was a slap on the whole fucking department's face.

"I forgive you, love."

That was the final straw, the officer rose his hands to smash the bloody thing on the ground. Kim Seokjin messed with the wrong person, he fucking spit on the Department. He was going to hunt—

He paused midway.

Kim Seokjin left the tape deliberately. It was an open challenge to the department, he even did not bother to clean up after the murdering two of the officers himself, not the rest too. The recording, the murder scene, the whole house— all these were powerful pieces of evidence.

So why would he just...Leave them behind?

That sly rat obviously did not want to get caught.

But the evidence...

Unless...

"Officers! Officers wherever you are get out of the building I said evacuate the buildings. Over."

He held the tape close as he rushed out of the room and into the hallway."

"Sir, what is wrong?" One of the officers asked through the device.

"It's a trap! I REPEAT IT'S A TRAP! EVACUATE THE—-"

BOOM!

The deafening boom was swift, followed by another within a millisecond, but the amber and the sparks were quicker.

And within a moment, the two buildings burst into flames. Fire and fireproof helmets flying out, some parts of burning cloths, burnt uniforms and perhaps some skin attached to them.

—---

Jin smiled at her sleeping form through the mirror before he felt his burner phone vibrating.

"Sir, it's done." A voice from the other side spoke as soon as he picked up the call.

"Good, now get out of there." Jin instructed before hanging up the call.

He could finally lean back. His eyes remained on the road ahead, along with a smile that he did not wish to wipe anytime soon.

—--------

Waking up was a slow process. But (Y/N) had not felt more blissful before. She felt like she was surrounded by soft clouds. She felt pampered, and it was not a feeling foreign to her but she was relaxed and—-

She woke up with a start, shaking the remaining sleep off her, though her mind was still a bit muddled. Flashes of the night before occupied her mind as she blinked to clear up her vision. He...What had she done?

Did she give in?

She just...She just laid there, under him, taking whatever he gave her

She put her whole department to shame and yet—

The gentle fingers brushing through her hair, detangling the tresses were all too familiar to even guess– she knew it was Jin. Laying behind her.

"How did you sleep?" It was the morning voice that she was used to, but this time, she was alert for a whole new reason.

Did he wish to play with her a bit before slaughtering her?

There was one thing that Kim Seokjin would never forgive, she had learnt in her two years with him– betrayal.

Expecting forgiveness from him after stabbing him in the back was like trying to dig up a well in a desert.

"You need to relax, Love. As I said yesterday, I forgive you."

She frowned but did not dare to turn.

"I forgive you..."

"I forgive you..."

"I forgive you..."

Was that what she heard before she fell into a tired, hopeless, dreamless slumber?

Even if she were to die, she knew that she was no coward. And she would not die like one. So (Y/N) turned around, facing the man who shaped her nightmares and dreams.

Turning around, she realised she was naked, while he was in his usual night pyjamas. And while she had been naked with him several times before, this made her feel vulnerable, exposed even.

"You did not give away the other pen drive, Jagi. Of course, I forgive you. How can I not?"

He looked soft, hair ruffled, eyes slightly swollen, and overall deceptively harmless.

"You killed them."

As long as she could remember, there were two bodies. Two of her seniors lay bloodied and dead on the bed.

"Yes, Jagi, I killed them all." Jin's smile was sweet, the one she had grown used to.

And so was it unhinged.

"You can't hide forever, you know?"

"We, Love. It's us against them. You proved your loyalty to me last night. The remaining doubts shall be dealt with effectively." He rose slightly with the support of his elbow and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "I will be back, yeah?"

He left after that. Left her with her thoughts as she spiralled further and further down. All the things that had gone wrong and that she had done wrong. Two of the senior-most officers were dead. The department would hunt her down, hunt them down.

She had no clue how long it had been until Jin returned with a tray that she assumed contained breakfast.

"I had the maids prepare a light breakfast, did not want you to get your stomach upset again."

She frowned. Why did she not remember any of that?

"I–I threw up last night?"

"Yes, you did, even had a fever. Perhaps things were too much for you. Had me worried there for a while. Now, rise up, you must eat something."

"Why are you doing this?" She refused to believe that she was 'forgiven', she was not even apologising in the first place. "If this is your way of prolonging—"

"I could have killed you the day I found out who you were."

She stilled at his words. They were obvious but that did not stop the chill that descended into her spine. It was a strange cocktail of sadness and affirmation.

"But I didn't..."

I couldn't

The words lingered with uncertainty in the air.

"I wanted to see how far this little game goes. And then I saw it..." He tilted his head as his lips curved into a condescending smirk "...How naïve you were. It's pathetic actually. Thinking what you do is the 'right thing'."

"You run an underworld business of drugs and weapons Jin. No matter what you do, how you are, you cannot separate that from yourself...You have blood on your hands Jin and the only way to wash it—"

He interrupted her with a loud scoff that broke into a cackle.

"Honey, you don't wash it all off, it took my blood sweat and money to build this empire. And then I watch some puppet idealists coming to topple it...It's amusing."

He gently laid the breakfast tray on the foldable table placed over her lap.

"It's a game (Y/N). A big game where people like you are only disposable pawns...Why do you think the department is bothered about me now? Why not years back? I was easier to crush then."

When she only frowned, he continued.

"Because they are not hunting for sweeping the city, or the nation clean. They are hunting for those who cannot be loyal to them. Once you are ready to spend billions on election campaigns, domestic and international deals, give money to their pretty puppets and invest in their projects– be their loyal dogs, do the dirty work for them...You are free to do whatever the fuck you want."

He gently cupped her cheeks, leaning in to level with her gaze. "One Government topples, so does their favours upon their underworld allies, the next one would only want to uproot them all. It's not about just tice, or charity, or protecting the city. It never was. It has and always been about power...Once they find out that you have not handed over the other pen drive, you are going to end up with a 'criminal' bullet lodged into your head."

"What about the bullets in those officers' bodies?"

Jin only smiled "If my soul were made of what has shaped yours, Jagi...I would not have been where I am."

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Get something into your system. I will prepare a bath for you."

Standing up, he towered over her.

"For now, you are not allowed to step out of the room without my explicit permission. Not until my trust in you is restored completely. You still went to meet them, and I cannot risk another slip-up."

"So I am your prisoner."

"Of course not, Jagi. I have a special place for my 'prisoners'. You are the woman I love and refuse to lose. You are the one for me. But fortunately, love cannot blind me to the realities of your position. It is just a bump in the road, we will pass through this."

She could not even begin to decipher what odd amalgamation of emotions she was feeling at the moment. It was all too much. But she knew one thing...She was trapped. A trap she had willingly walked into.

"I will let you have the bath to yourself. Finish up, okay?"

With that, Jin walked into the bathroom. The little muffled sounds here and there let her know that he was doing what he said he would do. Exactly that.

—--

The water felt perfect against her skin, washing away the aches and clammy sensation. But nothing could wash away him. He was imprinted on her mind, and even if he had thoughtfully left her alone in the bathroom, (Y/N) felt him everywhere, in everything. It was like the whole place, not just the bathroom or the room, but each brick was breathing Kim Seokjin.

It was an odd situation. After everything she had seen and experienced, she knew that there was something going on in Jin's mind– he was concocting a plan and if he was not, then he had already emerged as victorious.

She would not be surprised though. He had himself revealed that he had known her true occupation for a while now. It was all a bait. Her two seniors were dead, and perhaps even her colleagues who were in the other house and—

The realisation hit her like a truck. Before she knew it, she was scrambling out of the tub, splashing water everywhere, slipping here and there. But she did make it back to the room, albeit with only a bath robe on, she rushed out of the bathroom, only to begin searching for a TV remote.

She finally found it on the nightstand.

"There are only speculations we can make as no confirmation has been provided by the Police Department or the intelligence. The intensity of the blast was moderate but enough to kill each and every officer present in the two buildings...."

The words of the reporter sank later than the pictures being displayed on the screen. There were all twenty of them.

Five of whom she had personally worked with on her previous missions. Out of the five, two were the ones she recognised as friends, close friends.

The rest of the six were acquaintances and the others, she could barely remember their names.

But all of them were her colleagues.

Her colleagues with families to look after, one of them was expecting his first child in the world, and another was the only hope for her aged and ailing parents.

And now, they all were reduced to nothing but burnt flesh and ashes.

"Jagi, I thought you were in for a nice, relaxing bath, why are you crying?"

She had not taken notice of his presence first, it was only after he gently wiped her tears did she realise her predicament.

It was like she had blood in her hands.

"Why?"

When she looked at him with the question, his unreadable eyes expressed the unexpressed. There was no other thought in her mind.

"They were innocent—"

Jin cackled– one that sounded everything that she had heard before when it concerned an expression of glee. But felt like nothing she had felt before. One that could inspire unadulterated fear. It was sinister– mockingly sinister at its best.

She had fallen in love with a cruel, cold and evil man.

"You have known me for years now, have you not...(Y/N). Have I ever been forgiving to obstacles? They were the wall between us, our love."

And yet he claimed to love her.

"It was a small warning, Jagi. You know that I could do worse."

He was right. She knew him, after all.

"Now, we would not have to worry about some petty people in uniform trying to come after us. Don't think too much about this and tire yourself out."

He took the remote from her grasp with ease and switch the television off before gently leading her back to the bathroom.

(Y/N) was in a daze, letting him take her out of the bathrobe with ease before he put her back in the bathtub after moderating the temperature again. But when he joined her, the feeling of his warm skin rubbing against hers broke her daze, but the faces of her colleagues never vanished from her mind.

She heard him sigh as he pulled her over his lap, relaxing in the perfectly warm water, basking in the soothing fragrance of lavender and pines. It felt like once she closed her eyes, she would be somewhere else, somewhere beautiful.

But she did not dare to close them.

(Y/N) knew that the moment she closed her eyes, the faces of her friends and colleagues would flash in front of her.

She felt his body against hers, roaming hands, fingers drawing circles over her shoulder to comfort her. But none of them worked.

"I know that there is a lot of questions in your mind, so may dilemmas. But you will see Jagi. You will see how much far we have come. You chose me. You made the right choice."

His voice was that of a siren– hypnotic, melodious, but one that would lead its follower to their ultimate demise.

That was Kim Seokjin.

He told her once that she was the one for him, and they would grow old together.

She knew that he would have it no other way.

He was not afraid to spark a bloody battle for that. But there was no line to it. He did not care who or what the price was-- he would have what he wanted, where he wanted.

She realised when he turned her head to land a soft but promising kiss on her lips.

He wanted a battle?

His lips were soft but firm, his hand on the side of her neck left no room for backing away.

She would give him war.

She kissed him back, cautious, but not empty of thoughts.

***

The days were humid, and the nights invited light to moderate rainfall. Life in the relatively remote town was peaceful, in a nutshell. 

To live in innocuous obscurity, to work for nothing but to run her and her family was what (Y/N) needed after everything she and her sister had been through—her sister Chae, her only surviving family. The same family she had smashed someone’s heart for and perhaps ruined his life forever.

She might as well be a monster in his eyes. But with her experience through all this, she had learned that not all monsters were evil. And that just made everything much more complicated. 

She never knew Min Yoongi. 

Of course, she had heard of him, maybe even seen his pictures a handful of times, but never paid much attention. 

Not until Chae, her sweet little sister, and her only family, was diagnosed with an illness that was slowly swallowing her up. And (Y/N)’s regular office job could not pay the bills for too long. Their savings were running out, and the treatment and medicines were weighing heavy.

She was desperate.

Truly desperate

And truly desperate people never weigh morals, risks, or possibilities.

They take any chance given to them.

So did she, when a decorated officer offered her a chance to save her sister and find a better life for both of them.

She took the chance; it only took her a day to think through everything. They were paying for her sister’s treatment and the medical bills; they were to overlook Chae and her security, and the net money to be transferred into her bank account after the work was done was good enough.

That one offer had everything she desperately needed. Not desired. Needed.

She was never worried about herself– walking under the shadow of a man like Min Yoongi, she had to have courage. And she was courageous because she was desperate. Whatever she had heard of the man was foul deeds and evil temperament; she had never let that diminish her courage.

To the officers, Min Yoongi was a monster. A clever monster who needed to be pulled out of the sea.

It was for the betterment of society– she was not doing anything morally wrong if perceived through those lenses.

But that was the catch. 

People, morality and justice were not read through a single lens, they needed prisms to look at, to analyse.

She had learned that with her time spent with Min Yoongi. Her experience defied every other fact she had learned from her temporary employers. He was no monster. But as she dug deeper into his life and his personality, she discovered that the officers were no liars either. 

Min Yoongi was a monster after all. But he was not evil. Not every monster was evil, not every evil looked like a monster.

Min Yoongi was an intimidating man. True to the officers’ words, he was a dangerous man too. Before she knew it, she was already praying that the assumptions about him would be proven false and that she would never have to hear his deeds from his lips. 

The same lips that had kissed her so softly, the eyes that looked at her with such a distinct tenderness, closed when her fingers traced his scar. Her touch was soft, but his hold on her would be delicate. It always had been.

Until the doomed night. 

She was frozen with shock when she looked into his eyes– the same eyes that once held tenderness seemed to belong to a true predator. For the first time, she truly felt the danger that she was in.

She was in a lion’s den. Unarmed. Unprepared. But desperate.

She saw the shadow fall over his face, she truly saw why even a decorated officer would not like to mess with Min Yoongi without an intricate strategy and heavy backup.

And yet, she had mouthed ‘Run’ to him.

 As if she wanted him to get away. To be saved. 

Perhaps he did need a second chance— to be saved from the chilling darkness she had seen merging with him.

But she was no saint, and definitely not his saviour.

She was his doom. 

It was an opportunity too good, too bright a chance. And she took it. 

Yes, she had grown to care for him, even sympathise with him, more than she would like to admit. But she loved her sister. And she did whatever she needed to do to save her only family.

She had religiously avoided watching the news for months. Three months since she had settled into town with her little sister. She did not want to burden herself anymore.

I did what I needed to. We needed to survive.

She told herself again as she prepared warm milk for Chae along with her medicine. It had become kind of a ritual ever since that night.

“Chae, get off the tablet now. Time for bed.” She called out from the kitchen before making her way to their room from the kitchen with the tray with her.

“Just a few more minutes!”

(Y/N) could not help but feel uplifted by the sound of her sister’s chirpy voice, it had withered so pitifully once. But now, as she was recovering, their trips to the hospital had reduced from every three days to twice a month. 

“No. Screentime’s over. Give that to me.”

Despite her sister’s whining, she took the gadget from her tiny hands and replaced it with the cup of milk.

“Say ‘Aaa’”

Chae opened her mouth wide as (Y/N) put a circular tablet into it before helping her gulp it down.

She let out a soft sigh after she finished the cup– soft pink in shade with the partially protruding face of a smiling panda.

“Let’s get you to bed. Why don’t you show me how you make your bed before going to sleep?”

“Yes!” Chase jumped up, ready to show (Y/N) her newfound field of expertise.

“Look, you first, take off the pillows, clear off your bed…” She spoke as if there were cameras around, like the lifestyle shows and YouTube videos on ‘How to Do Household Chores Right’.

She had been watching such stuff lately. And while (Y/N) felt that her Chae might be a little too young to learn how to make pancakes, if her sister enjoyed the sense of independence and thrived in it, (Y/N) did not mind.

She watched her little sister work with a fond smile until she was done and was beaming with a smile that (Y/N) held the most precious to herself.

“And look, it's all done!”

(Y/N) clapped in appreciation and played along, before tucking her into bed and switching off the lights, keeping the nightlights that made the ‘Glow-in-the-dark’ wall stickers illuminate better before placing a goodnight kiss on the top of her and leaving the room.

—---

Laying on the bed after a long day felt good. She doubted that anything could even compare to the comfort and sense of safety a familiar, comfortable bed would provide after a long day of toil and trials.

Sighing, she let herself sink into a relaxed state of mind, welcoming the sleep that was rapidly filling her eyes– rapid but soft and—

Buzz! Buzz!

The vibration from her phone jerked her out of the sweet lull with a low gasp. Her senses stood alert as she blinked away the rest of the sleep. In the dark room, her phone’s screen illuminated in a way that there was no other way but to look at it. As if, it had a sense of urgency to it. as if it demanded for her to look into the text.

She knew, of course, that it was all but her imagination– the phone would not buzz a different way for different situations, and neither would it illuminate any brighter to alert her.

With a tired sigh and heavy eyes, she unlocked her phone and opened the message from an unknown number.

Indeed, it was a very important message.

—------

It was a nice place– at least nice in the sense that it served good food and had a warm and cosy atmosphere– something one would expect from a cafe in a fairly isolated town.

 Not many people visited the town, neither tourists knew about it. A perfect hiding corner in the country indeed. They had considered sending her out of the country, and they had assured her that once things settled down, they would.

But here was the thing– she depended on one of the officers to inform her if the ‘things had settled down’. (Y/N) had consciously avoided any news or updates regarding Min Yoongi. 

She was indeed afraid of coming across something upsetting. She already was miserable with guilt.

Sure, she never loved Min Yoongi, but she had grown to care for him, to understand him and truly see him for what he was– a love-starved, broken soul.

“So…” 

She began, eyeing the door and the road outside for any sign of a vehicle with red and blue sirens.

“Is there something to be worried about?”

In her time with Min Yoongi, she had mastered the art of poise, to some extent. However, she never had the chance to master her fear– she never felt the need to. It was an odd sense of safety in his company, she knew that nothing could touch her when she was with him.

But he was an exception.

The man in front of him was an officer in disguise. She remembered him for he had been closely associated with Mission Raven.

“I have not been keeping track of any news regarding—”

“There’s nothing on the news Ms (L/N). Nothing at all. That night, the police station blew off.”

She stilled, slowly processing his words.

“There was no record of his arrest because he was to be shifted to a bigger, more secure station overnight but…”

“So…So everyone there…”

The officer sighed and nodded.

“Min Yoongi was never found. What a coincidence.” He shook his head with a bitter chuckle “When I joined the police force, I thought that I was going to be a hero– help the people in need, bring justice…That night, when my eyes met Min Yoongi’s, I felt my resolve faltering for the second time in my life.” 

He shook his head with a sardonic tilt of his lips.

“The first time was while I shot a criminal dead.” He added before taking a sip of the coffee that no longer had steam rising from its surface. “Overall, I am glad that I and two of my teammates had gone out for a cigarette break…So we survived.” 

He gulped and eyed his surroundings with a subtle nervousness that made her heart thrum with warnings.

“Though I have been transferred to some other city, I thought that I must warn you. I waited, did not want him to track you down. Miss (L/N), I suggest that you leave with your sister tonight, and leave the country as soon as you can. Min Yoongi’s men killed every person in the building. We hid, but we saw him walk out, saw them walk out…Oh–look, please don’t panic.”

It was when his flow broke did she realised that her cheeks were damp with tears.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” The young officer frowned in concern.

“I…I need to lea-ve.”She cracked up, as her voice crumbled. 

With quivering legs and hands, she rose from her chair, uncaring of the loud scraping.

“I can drop you.” He offered.

“No…No, you…you should leave. We are no longer safe. Are we?” 

The officer pursed his lips before shaking his head.

Picking up his card from the desk, along with her handbag, she rushed out of the place, gasping for breaths. She thought she might feel better with some fresh air in her lungs. But she had no time to think. She simply rushed to her car and drove away.

(Y/N) felt like she was in a daze.

It felt like a bad dream. An ominous one.

But it was no omen, it was no dream.

It was real.

During her two years with Min Yoongi, she came to understand him to some extent. Nothing slipped past his mind, ever. 

A favour or a betrayal, he paid his debts. With interest.

And she had gifted him, on that night, one of the worst betrayals a man could endure. She had seen love in his eyes before that doomed night.

But that night, he had the misfortune to witness the flicker of madness– simmering, still tame, in control. There was an odd gleam in his eyes– one that reminded her why Min Yoongi was so feared after all.

Hastily parking her car, she rushed out of the vehicle and into her house. The setting sun cast an amber glow into the sky that was gradually descending into deep blue and lavender. It might rain heavily– not ideal for travelling, but she had no other option. 

They had no other—

As soon as she entered the apartment, her thoughts turned silent.

 Everything felt tense.

For once, her heart skipped a beat. But she was reassured by reminding herself that Chae would be usually taking a nap by this time. 

For once, she thought that she finally had the peace she had always craved. But now as she moved towards Chae’s room to wake her up, she realised how wrong she had been.

With a plan still under construction in her spiralling mind, she opened the door to Chae’s room. The blinds were pulled down, plunging the room into an unusual darkness.

“Chae?” She called out tentatively before switching on the night light.

She noticed her sister’s face first, eyes closed and limbs hanging– and then the body–no, the man who had her in his arms.

Her mind, her thoughts, and her senses plunged into a heavy silence. A silence so profound that (Y/N) could hear a low but unending beep in her ears.

She could see the outline of a back, along with the hair just teasing his shoulders. She would recognise the profile anywhere, at any time. But when the man finally turned, she could not help but take a step back, gluing herself to the wall, under the shadows as her breathing hitched.

There was nothing significantly different, at least whatever view the limited light provided her with showed that. But somehow, his form seemed to swallow every corner of the room. The scar that ran through his eyes till his upper cheek was almost faded out by the shades of blue the nightlight provided.

But she could see his smirk– a crooked, twisted smirk that made her whimper. A sudden gleam had her eyes dropping to his hand that held her sister with a silver gun flat on her back, his forefinger already on the trigger.

“You never told me about your sister…(Y/N).” He drawled, and she thought his truest, rawest nature stood before her.

A predator that loved to chase but also took its time.

“No…No!” Her voice came out as strangled as her brittle knees gave out

“Shhh, you’ll wake her up. I read out a story to her before tucking her in.”

His voice was calm, hushed and steady– a sinister melody attached to it, following his movements as he looked above her. She had not even noticed the two men standing behind her. It was only after they walked past her and took her sleeping sister in their arms that the wheels began to turn in her head.

“W-where are you taking her? No!” With skidding legs and blurred vision, she rushed to them, trying to pry her sister away from them, only to be pulled back by the man whose presence overpowered everyone and everything in the house.

“Yoongi, please! She’s innocent, punish me but—”

Her words were caught in her throat when his gaze held hers. She was looking into the eyes of a creature of the night. The blue light only enhanced the sinister shade his face carried. He was perhaps paler, broader yet his face seemed sharper. No trace of softness.

“You know how many times I dreamt of that night over and over again?” He pushed her closer, so close that she could feel his quivering breath– as if he was barely restraining himself.

“My sister needed—”

“They were simply fishing for the right victim and you just took the bait. What do you think, they would come to ‘save’ you? They don’t fucking care!” He spat.

Under the nightlight, he looked rogue, savage, unfearing.

“You are a criminal Yoongi.” She had no idea where she had found the strength to speak those words, but she did.

He smiled coldly “Of course I am, Love. The one they fear and now won’t dare challenge. You see, there is nothing between us now.”

 Her wall of protection had disappeared. (Y/N) knew that she could never depend on them for long, but everything toppling overnight? She had not seen this coming.

“You betrayed me, but also saved me.” He concluded and she felt his hold tightening on her arms like a python.

“No, Yoongi…I didn’t save you. I am not your saviour Yoongi.”

“Oh, Love…I cannot be saved anyway, I don’t want to be…All that is left for you is to accept me as I am. No ifs and buts.”

But how? She never wanted this…She never loved him!

“Y-Yoongi…I don’t–I don’t love you…”, 

The silence made her stomach flip. But her proximity to him made her fear for her life. 

“They really had filled your mind with filth…” He drawled before she felt the iron grip of his fingers on her jaws. It was not instantly painful, but with each passing moment, the ache rose.

“Look at me, look into my eyes and tell me.”

 The simmering ambre flared into an all-engulfing fire in his eyes. Some strands of his hair fell forward, exposing the deranged lover that hid behind the poised man.

She peered into the rage and chaos simmering in his feline eyes- dark but raging with emotions, yet hollowed with loneliness.

“I cared Yoongi, I always did. That is why I wanted you to survive. I wanted you to run, despite knowing who you were, I wanted you to run. But I could never love you.”

It was an odd amalgamation– she feared him, yet pitied him. He, to her, resembled a lost predator. Surviving, hunting, doing what he was born to do…but lost, alone.

“Please Yoongi…Let Chae go…She’s a child. Let us go.” She begged again, her hopes flaring when his hold on her loosened, hands falling to his side as he took a step back.

He only chuckled and looked away. 

“I guess our past actions do have consequences…” 

In the silence, his lowly voice sounded ominous 

“And I must reap them…” He paused before turning back to her “But so would you.”.

She watched the simmering ambre erupting into an all-consuming volcano before he tapped on the earpiece attached to his left ear.

“Is the child with you? Okay, take out your gun and shoot her when I command.”

“NO! NO! Yoongi, please! No”

She was already on her knees, she did not care as long as her only family was safe. His cold eyes peered down at her with a chilling poise before he bent down a bit and cupped her cheek, breaking the neverending stream of tears.

“Wipe off the tears and come with me. If anyone suspects something, you sweet little sister will pay.”

(Y/N) sat frozen, not even registering the thrumming on her knees.

Maybe she was wrong–

Min Yoongi was a monster after all.

And monsters were unforgiving creatures.

—------

Min Yoongi knew that he was not a saint.

He was not a kind man.

But he was also not evil. Not to the people he loved, truly loved and cared for. And definitely not to the love of his life.

He had no shame in admitting– he was a monster- the worst of them all. A walking, talking, repulsive nightmare.

 But he loved her. He had forgiven her the very night he was ‘arrested’. 

How could he not, when she looked at him with more kindness than he had ever known in this world?

But when she outrightly refused to have ever loved him, the illusion began to crack. 

“They were right about you…I never believed them until now but now I do. You truly are an evil monster.”

She had whispered those words to him as soon as they were in his estate. Even with tears in them, her eyes were cold and raging.

“I could never love a monster like you!” She finally spat out when he refused to let her see her sister.

And he snapped. Something deep, dark, territorial and unhinged gnawed its way out. 

But he only smirked. Even though he could feel the dull ache behind his eyes, a strange pit in his stomach, he smirked and let it grow into a chuckle.

He must have had his true face out as she took a step back with fear blooming in her teary eyes– he was a deranged, diabolic bastard. With each step he took to close the distance between them, she took several away, until the back of her knees bumped with the bed.

Pulling her flush against himself, he leaned near her ear.

“The officers who aided you are already six feet under the ground– half burnt, half crushed, but dead anyway. All you can do is believe in every word they told you about me…I am indeed a monster, honey. He worst one you will ever know. And you will have to live with this monster. No government, no decorated officer would dare to save you.”

He felt her stiffen and shiver like frightened prey. Indeed, she had fallen prey to his love. He made peace with their reality. She would too.

 Humans were adaptive creatures after all.

—--------

The hanging lights on the ceiling were pretty– the crystals shining under the moonlight, but they seemed to swing slightly.

It was only an illusion, of course. It was she, who moved, and the bed while the man above her remained still, revelling at the sight of her rocking hips, spread legs and parted mouth with the dazed bliss in her eyes.

She could only watch the chandelier instead of looking into his eyes with the victorious gleam in them and the sadistic twinkle on watching her fall apart.

“Look into my eyes, Jagi.” 

And she did before hot white pleasure surged through her.

“There there, aren’t you the most beautiful of all brides out there?”

“Why can’t I meet my own sister?” (Y/N) was only a thread away from screaming her lungs out all the awful things she could think of at the moment.

Yoongi simply sat, nursing his scotch on rocks, idly watching the part of the vast garden visible from his home office. The place that only a few had access to, the place she had barged in, his guards chasing after her, pleading for her to stop lest they would bear Mr Min’s wrath.

But she could not have it in herself to care. She had not seen or even heard of her Chae for two days in the gigantic estate.

When Yoongi finally looked at her, his stoic stare made something unpleasant steer within her. His eyes assessed her with a flick before it turned steely.

“Why are you in your bed clothes?” It was akin to a sneer. Or maybe it was.

The fact was, she did not give a fuck.

“What have you done to my sis–”

“Have you walked all the way here in this?”

She was wearing a thin camisole under a nightgown reaching beyond her knee. It was of satin material that was tightly knotted but had a plunging neckline she had never cared about. 

She did not understand why this bothered him so much. She knew that he was twisted but this was madness.

“I want to see Chae! I have not even heard of her since I–you brought us here.”

Only she knew the anxiety clawing her from within

“She needs to take her medicines regularly Yoongi. She’s just eight, she is a child, an innocent child who needs me.” 

Even when she would ask the guards, servants, or maids, they would not respond to her question– that was the only question they refrained from speaking about her sister, or even taking her name. 

If Yoongi had the intention to break her down in a slow, painful way, he was on the right track.

He rose from the chair and walked to her “I assure you that she is safe and sound– she will take all her medicines on time, they will take good care of her.” 

“Th-they?” 

She did not even notice his other hand reaching for her until he wiped the single tear that had slipped from her eyes.

“The school staff. I have sent Chae to Rosenberg.”

“Indeed, you are.”

She felt his fingers slipping away before hearing the embarrassing squelching. Her eyes had closed without her notice, ready to fall into a blissful slumber. It was the second time he had pushed her over the edge of white pleasure. 

But she was wrong to think that he was anywhere near done.

Feeling the tight knot snap, she withered under him, eyes still closed, mind still hazy. 

Before the swing of the pleasurable high could slow down, she vaguely felt him putting her boneless legs over his shoulder before the ticking sensation between her thighs alerted her.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open, just in time when she felt something wet glide over her opening. The protest bubbling up to her tongue fizzled out like a burning matchstick against a storm and the only thing left for her was to moan instead– no matter how much she wished to resist it, she could not help the signs of pleasure tearing out of her mouth.

At first, she felt the odd but pleasurable sensation, almost flinching and jumping away. But under him, with his hands tight on her thighs, almost spilling the flesh between his fingers, it was difficult to even move. All she could do was to let her hands grip his hair. He did not seem to mind much.

His tongue focused on flicking her clit for a while, making her jolt each time with quivering gasps and moistening womanhood. This man surely knew how to overwhelm her own emotions.

“Ro-Rosember?”

“Rosenberg– Institut auf dem Rosenberg. It tops the list for a refined and elite schools, your sister will flourish there.” 

He held an air of nonchalance around him as he refilled his glass. Yet Yoongi’s eyes never left her form.

(Y/N) licked her lips. Was it possible to get randomly admitted to any prestigious school so soon in the country?

“So, she will be going to a new school? I can meet her then, right?”

“I think you don’t understand Jagi. It is an elite boarding school, the best of the best. It’s in Switzerland. I sent her there yesterday.”

“You…You sent my Chae to…Switzerland?”

 She had to repeat the words herself in order to fully grasp the situation. Yoongi sent her baby sister, who needed constant supervision and regular check-ups to another country-- to a boarding school she had never heard of.

“I have sent them the details and the list of precautions and medications. Besides that, I have connections, Jagi, she will be safe there.”

By the time he finished speaking, her legs turned lifeless and she found the floor. The warmth of the carpet could not subdue the sudden waves of chills and goosebumps enveloping her form.

“You sent her away from me…”

“I gave her a good life. Imagine if it were someone else in my place, Jagi…He would have gifted you your sister’s head first before taking yours.” 

He bent down in smooth, silent motion before whispering to her with his arms holding her in faux reassurance.

Her eyes rolled back before the rawness of her throat was registered only after the rocking of her hips had slowed down. Her ears still echoed the short but sharp scream that had forced its way out of her throat like he had been forcing the pleasure out of her.

Her vision was blurry with the mix of tears and haze, but she could see him smirking– smug but somewhat unhinged.

Maybe he was indeed unhinged and cruel. He had punished her– not for her apparent betrayal. But for not loving him the way he had believed she would.

Min Yoongi had closed all doors for her, leaving her with no option but to hold on to the diamond wedding ring that now had its fangs buried on her ring finger– just as Min Yoongi had his claws buried in her life.

“Look at you~” 

She heard him coo as her head fell back on the pillow, her movement growing slow and her eyes heavy.

“What has the child done to you? She needs me!” (Y/N) cried out in anguish.

Yet it did nothing to deter his cold gaze or falter the ghost of a smirk he sported with pride.

“Nothing Love, the child has done nothing. I am not her foe. I am giving her the life millions would die for– the best of the best. I would see to it all. But when would you see her again is in your hands Jagi.”

She frowned and blinked through her tears. Up close, his scar did manage to make him appear more sinister than anyone she had ever met before.

“What are you saying?”

“I love you Jagi, there is no limit, no boundary that I would not cross for you. You can meet her after we are married and you give birth to our first child. So it depends on you how soon you can do that.”

He sealed her fate with the offer. But she wondered, how could a confession of love make one’s heart quiver with fear?

“I love you, Jagi, you have no idea how much I do.”

She could smell the sweat and musk as he leaned down to kiss her forehead before guiding his manhood to enter her. Slow, but sure, a contrast of stiffness and tenderness that both frightened and baffled her.

“Oh—” (Y/N)’s voice quivered as she held onto Yoongi’s shoulders in order to keep herself grounded. It was devastating; it was delicious, it was almost divine.

But she knew that this was no more than a nefarious act of him sinking his sharp teeth into her– held down under his thumb forever. He had the advantage, the power and the last word. He was the lion, she was a helpless, powerless prey his claws dug into.

Min Yoongi was a man of his word. 

He had told her once that he would marry her and live in his newly bought estate; they were indeed married, fucking on the bed that was flown all the way from a different country.

—---

The headlines flashed on the screen while wheels turned in her head. She sat stiffly without any movements as she watched the news.

“What are you watching?”

As if he were conjured, he walked into their room, some sandwiches on a plate, wearing the most innocuous-looking clothes. He had taken two months off from ‘work’, wishing to spend some quality time with his wife.

One week into the marriage, she was already wearing down. Both emotionally and physically. She doubted if there was any room in the mansion left where he had not taken her, or was there any corner of her mind where he had not wiggled his way into. 

“Your company is taking responsibility for constructing new police quaters and renovating the old ones?”

“Yes, why are you so surprised?”

“There are others, older candidates. Why would they give the project to you?”

Yoongi smiled and sat down beside her.

 “You are so smart, Jagi. It would be a sin to hide anything from my wife, would that not? Let's just say me and the Internal Affairs Ministry are friends now.” 

He leaned in and kissed her cheek before handing her the sandwich he had put his time making.

“So, no one disrupts me now. For a long time.”

“You did this to make sure that no one comes searching for me, right?”

He grinned. 

“I love you (Y/N). There is no limit that I would not cross for you. Eat up, I have a really good movie for us. You will love it. After that, we can have lunch, all your favourites.

He went on, while she spiralled further. Any hope of getting out of there was crushed then and there. 

He had not taken his time to track her down. He had taken his time to plan. And execute the plan thoroughly. Tracking her down was child’s play for him.

Min Yoongi was indeed a monster—a clever, stubborn and dangerous monster.

And she was in his realm, and she was there to stay. He would make sure of that.

***

The rest of the parts will be published shortly. I am facing problems in saving the draft.

A very Happy New Year to all of you!

Banner by @cafekitsune

remote working ! (twothau w/ gn!reader)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

salutations. remote working (requested by anon)

addressed. diluc, kaeya, tartaglia, zhongli, thoma, xiao, scaramouche, and arataki itto

content. mentions of covid-19, fluff/no-angst, mild swearing, wholesomeness, modern!au, yakuza!au, this fic is based on the way of the househusband

sypnosis. how househusbands are like with you remote working (work at home) during the pandemic.

penpals. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii

links. the way of the househusband au | teyvat's penpal service | requests info

post-script. shoutout to my bestie irl who helped me out with her big brain on xiao, kaeya, and scaramouche's parts <<3

DOESN’T GO TO YOUR OFFICE — diluc

when you first told DILUC that you'll start working at home from now on, he was relieved. ever since the announcement of a certain virus that's been infecting everyone like wildfire, the man could only worry about your safety – especially since your workplace has so much people – so now that you're officially working at home, he can now rest peacefully.

as someone who respects privacy and silence, diluc makes sure to not be noisy outside, including not vacuuming in front of your office and wouldn't put the volume on the tv to the max (im sorry but hes honestly the type to make his tv loud just to have a bg noise), which you appreciate a lot. though you wonder if he forgot the fact that your office is sound-proof.

he also doesn't want to go to your office, mainly because he doesn't want to be seen by your nosy colleagues and because he simply doesn't want to disturb your meetings with his presence. it's like the tables have been turned around the both of you since back then, you're the one who didn't want to interrupt with his work.

sometimes when he feels like it, diluc would send you a text message and ask if you'd like him to bring a drink or snack to your office. if you said yes, expect yourself to hear a few knocks one second after you sent your message. turns out, he was actually supposed to come in to your office unannounced with your drink and snacks but decided to text you first because of his conscience bothering him. it'll take months before he'll actually start visiting your office without having to text you that's a lie, he'll never do it.

LOVES YOUR BOSS MOMENTS — childe, kaeya

the moment you informed CHILDE that you’ll be working at home, he was honestly curious to see how you work. are you the type to scold many of your coworkers in a scary manner? are you the fun and chill type that made your coworkers love you? ah, so many questions !!

eventually his curiosity was lifted when he overheard you while he was cleaning outside your office, causing him to stop cleaning for a moment to hear what you're saying to your colleagues, listening to you destroying your coworker for something they’re trying to bring you down from.

it only increased his love for you because wow, who knew you would be such a boss at your job? don’t get him wrong, he very much knows how great you are — it just astounds him since you’re so closed off about your work ! childe could only smile from just imagining how scared his old subordinates would be if you were a part of his organization.

expect him to try and convince you to start telling many of your work stories — doesn’t matter if they’re all embarrassing in your eyes — as long as you tell him the ones where you prove yourself that you’re a boss (as you should !!)

KAEYA would be happy that you no longer have to go out to your crowded workplace and risk your health anymore when you told him. he feels even more unease when it comes to your safety since there’s been a virus that’s been causing so much trouble for everyone, so now that you’ll stay home until it’s considered safe to go out, kaeya can live happily.

unlike childe, kaeya only gets to see your angry side when your coworkers didn’t do their job and would think wow, you're so cute when you're angry as if he hasn't seen you being mad at him at all. he doesn’t even have to go near your office to hear your angry voice because he can simply hear it from where he is (given that unlike diluc’s, your office isn't sound-proof).

during those times when you're mad, kaeya will make sure to help you calm down after the meeting. he'll either stop by your office to give you a snack and drink or cuddle with you until your next meeting starts. if you're into sweet-talk, then kaeya's the right person for you, expect him to start telling you sweet-nothings in your ear and do everything he can to make you smile or make your cheeks feel warmer than a stove.

as much as kaeya adores your boss moments, he doesn't like how you're too busy with your work because of your piled up works to do. whenever you sometimes overwork yourself from the amount of work you've been given, your lover will make sure to make you take breaks every now and then by dragging you out from your office and spend time with him even if it takes a few minutes. you may be cute but not when you're stressed and overworked >:00 !!

VISITS YOUR OFFICE TO GIVE YOU FOOD — thoma, zhongli

when THOMA finds out that you'll start doing your work at home, he beams. mainly because you don't have to get out from your home and risk your health and definitely not because he misses you a lot.

he would often find himself at the kitchen daily even more than before, trying out snack recipes that he thinks you’d like as taroumaru watches from afar, eating his dog treat happily as always. if he deems the said snack worthy, then thoma will immediately take it away to your office and give it to you with taroumaru following.

however, unlike the rest of the househusbands besides diluc and scaramouche, thoma wouldn't be seen by your colleagues since he makes sure that he's not seen in your screen – whether it'd be going behind your laptop and place the food beside your things, or stay a few steps away from you and just give you a thumbs up before rushing off outside to not disturb you anymore.

whenever you're done with your meetings, you always have your favorite choice of drink waiting outside with your lover and dog watching a movie or resting while waiting for you to finish. expect him to try and help you clean up your desk so that you can have a tidy spot for once.

sweet-sweet ZHONGLI, who smiles so wide when he realizes that he won’t have to feel lonely anymore because of the fact that you’ll be staying home without going out to work. expect him to take you to your workplace to get your things and will help you start rearranging your office to make it more comfortable and suitable for your online meetings.

sweet-sweet zhongli, who makes sure to be quiet whenever he’s outside of your office and always prepares snacks for you. it’s scary how he always knows when you’re craving for something to eat, something that he excuse it as a coincidence and chuckles about it. he likes to think that it’s an instinct of his to know when you’re starving and/or know what you want.

sweet-sweet zhongli, who always makes sure to knock on your door before entering with foods that’ll surely make your mouth water at the aroma alone. at this point, it’s normal for your colleagues to see his lower body coming to view in your screen and putting down the tray that has your meal. they actually find it endearing and a bit jealous.

sweet zhongli, who listens to what you did for work as he massages your shoulders happily after your tiring meetings, adding a few comments here and there so that you’ll know that he’s listening to your rants. he's that good of a househusband <<3

SOMETIMES IN THE BACKGROUND — itto, xiao

ITTO felt excited when you said you'll start working at home, thinking that you meant that you’re willing to help him with the farm – only to find out that you meant you're actually still working in your career but at home, much to his sadness. nevertheless though, he was still happy because hey, at least you're now staying with him 24/7 :DD !!

like diluc, itto wouldn't dare to enter your office during your meetings in fear of disturbing you as well. despite that though, your colleagues know him already because of your choice of.. background.

you see, your office has a window that shows the beautiful view of the farm and field, something that you thought would look great as your background since the window is behind you and is visibly seen to your colleagues. what you don't think about is the fact that your husband could be seen by your many colleagues – leading many occasions where they can see itto talking with his farm- animals and/or getting chased by chickens and hens.

it only took you a long time before you realized that itto can be seen thanks to one of your friends who pointed it out, causing you to feel your cheeks warming when you realized your mistake. how could you face your lover knowing that almost all of your colleagues have seen the things he did outside?!

XIAO felt like the gods have smiled upon him when he found out about the new changes in your work. he’s been anxiously waiting for the announcement of what will happen to your and your company, so now that it's official that you'll be staying at home, he won't have to worry about anything regarding you catching the virus.

now, unlike most househusbands, your office is an open-door room that leads to the kitchen and dining area, causing xiao to be often seen by your colleagues doing random things. whether it'd be cleaning up some items in the background, walking by but accidentally tripped, cooking a meal, or even eat almond tofu nearby, not knowing that he can be seen. you didn't bother telling him since you assumed he knew.

sometimes, you'd feel like a boomer. especially during the first month of remote working since you had never used zoom or any online meeting apps, so you often come up to xiao when it comes to encountering technical difficulties. thankfully, xiao's been with zhongli for a long time to know how to fix your problems and/or answer your questions. he's basically a technician to you now.

NOISY AS FU— — scaramouche

“so? i’m still your alarm either way.” is SCARAMOUCHE’s response when you first told him that you’ll start working at home. in reality, he was lowkey relieved since he didn't want you to risk yourself to go to work.

just like diluc, scaramouche respects boundaries and silence, so he makes sure to not interrupt any of your meetings. he'll only enter if he wants to let you know that he'll be going out to buy some groceries or if he brings you a drink after you texted him.

now, despite not being able to enter your office, he's often... loud outside without realizing it.

it's not that he's intentionally loud to disturb you – no, no – he just gets a bit clumsy whenever he cleans. whenever scaramouche cleans, he sometimes gets too deep in his thoughts that he doesn't pay attention to his surroundings besides the one he's cleaning in, leaving him accidentally stumping his toe on one of the table legs and speak in colorful language, much to your embarrassment and shock when you’re in your office hearing it. thankfully it only happens when you're not talking (so far, at least).

besides that, on occasions when you're taking a "short" break while waiting for your next meeting, scaramouche will make sure to keep an eye on the time to let you know when you need to go back in case you ended up procrastinating. if you ever say “just a few minutes”, you can say goodbye to your sweet bed because your husband will literally drag you away towards your office. it's honestly scary how strong he is 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Blind Faith (4)

Prev || Next

There was almost always someone with you now, aside from your ruin guard friend. 

If it wasn't Albedo who answered your questions and told you about his experiments and theories, it was Kaeya who you fell into friendly banter with, his teasing remarks easy to turn against him and make him falter once you got the hang of it. If not Kaeya, then Dainsleif accompanied you as your shadow, silent and solemn until you managed to crack past his stoic disposition and got him to speak more than just your supposed title. 

If Dainsleif, too, happened to be unavailable then it was either one or both of the Traveller siblings, both happy to simply let you be the one to fill the silence, listening with rapt attention to your stories and tales of Earth. While Lumine was the more intense of the two and Aether more expressive, they both still got the same smile when you called their names. 

Your ruin guard buddy, Jingyi, was just happy to be included. He often sat you on his hand or shoulders, surprsingly chatty by his beeps as the two of you went around Khaenri'ahs ruins long after your bruises and aches were healed. 

You should be happy; you had a warm room now, a shelter over your head and they gave you delicious food every day, keeping you company as well as giving you safety. 

And yet. . . 

You felt stifled, bored out of your mind by seeing the same scenerey evey day. When you had woken up and realized you were in Teyvat, you had been excited to explore, see the nations that looked so breathtaking even from your device's screen. You knew of course why they didn't want you to leave; there was still a manhunt out for your blood, unwilling to listen and believe you when you say that you truly aren't trying to impersonate anyone. 

You didn't day anything though; you aren't ungrateful, especially not when they're keeping you safe. 

What you hadn't counted on was that they knew. 

"It's expected of someone like them to hate being confined," Albedo said, not taking his eyes off you. You were on Jingyi's hand, chatting with a pyro lector. He wondered if you knew that the electro lector and hydro herald were planning to also pull you into coversations with them, like a bunch of jealous children and not the feared monsters they were supposed to be. "It's a wonder they have not yet complained, if I'm being honest." 

"They shouldn't have had to hide in the first place," Aether frowned, anger clear in the way he furrowed his brows. It was mirrored in the way Lumine clenched her fists. 

"Teyvat was created by them, it is for them. They should be the last ones that have to hide and not walk freely as they please." 

Dainsleif was to speak next, arms crossed. "And what do you suppose we should do? Those fools have yet to see their sin, their mistake. They are still advocating for the Creator's death, even if they refuse to see the truth." 

"Surely we can take them somehwere with no other people around," Kaeya hummed, a hand on his chin. "The nations are many and wide, a change of scenery should make them happier. The ruin guard, one of us, and perhaps one of the lectors or heralds can go with them for protection."  

Albedo was still hesitant; he still remebered the shock and horror he'd felt when Jingyi had brought you to them, bleeding and barely alive, a malnourished body in need of immediate help. And it was all because those arrogant, prideful Archons failed to recognize you. 

But, he thought as he looked over to you again, laughing along to whatever the lector was saying. It would more of a crime to keep you confined and restricted. 

Should anything happen, then you at least will not be alone this time. 

            ──・──・・ ♡ ・・──・──

Somewhere between the Dunyu Ruins and Tianqiu Valley was chosen, with Abyss mages keeping guard around the area to inform them early if anybody was getting close. Dainsleif was the one to accompany you and Jingyi, whose name you decided after the group got you a book of Liyuen names when you asked.

Dainsleif still had preservations, worries ringing in the back of his mind but you looked so happy, so excited as you moved between the shrubs and the grass and held the chirping squirrels in your hands.

Dainsleif was so enamoured by the sight of his Creator practically shining in happiness that he would have missed the hydro-infused arrow shooting straight at you had it not been for Jignyi taking the shot instead, its eye burning red as it stood ready to protect you.

"It appears you're not quite as dead as we thought, comrade!" A shock of ginger hair, dead blue eyes and the Fatui insignia.

Tartaglia.

(Please partake in this poll!!)

Strangers (Chapter Three)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence, brief description of a dead animal (will update as needed)

word count: 5.4k words

A few days had passed and you couldn’t believe it had been almost a week since you moved to this city. You felt like any moment now you were going to wake up and be back in your childhood room. It was all so surreal. Your mother had checked in with you a few times already, and you could tell she was trying to hold herself back from being a helicopter parent. She was worried and you understood that. You couldn’t imagine how she must feel as a single parent with her first child moving out but at least she had your younger brother to hover over now.

You still hadn’t told her about how you were treated at work or any of the drama at your residence and you didn’t plan on telling her any time soon. You knew that if you did, she would beg you to come home immediately. This wasn’t your first run-in with a bully. Growing up in a rough public school, it felt as if there was always an arrow on your back. It all felt like a blur now but all you could remember was your mother being so concerned for you and you didn’t want to awaken that part of her again. An overwhelming need to prove yourself had come over you, not wanting to run home to your mother after the first inconvenience.

Besides, things seemed to be improving. Well, they hadn’t gotten any worse so you figured that was a plus. Jiwan still gave you dirty looks and acted as if you were a nuisance so you hadn’t bothered asking her for help anymore and thankfully, she didn’t say anything to you at all. And your roommates seemed as chipper as ever. Ever since Soomi had left, they seemed much more comfortable at home. Their chatter carried throughout your floor whether they were in the kitchen or hanging out in one of the bedrooms and you somehow didn’t even mind. It was weird how fast you felt yourself warming up to them but you supposed it was the way they treated each other like a family, which they were now seemingly including you in.

Like right now, as Jungkook had practically begged you to join him in his room to play one of his video games. There was no way you could resist those big doe eyes and the way he held your hands so tenderly as he cornered you in the hallway. He was ecstatic when you finally agreed and that was how you ended up sitting on his bed with your back to the wall facing his large computer screen. He had quite the gamer setup, something you were shocked to see due to the small living spaces the residence offered.

He sat cross-legged next to you on the tiny bed, close enough for your legs to brush but you didn’t feel uncomfortable. Something about Jungkook was just so endearing that you felt like he could almost get away with anything. You could tell from the way the others babied him and how much he would turn the puppy dog eyes on you that he was used to getting what he wanted.

“Press these two at the same time if you wanna do a cool combo move.” His knee bumped yours as he leaned over to point at some buttons on your controller. You followed his instructions, causing your character to injure his character. “Ah, noona! I’m on your team!”

“Oops, sorry Kookie.” You smirked, watching in amusement as he focused on getting his player far away from yours. You don’t remember when you started calling him that but now it was hard to stop.

It was nice to get a break from adult life and enjoy some downtime with your new friend. You can’t remember the last time you let loose like this. Ever since you’d graduated high school, the stress of work and life had been set on your shoulders. You two continued to play for a while and you found yourself getting so engrossed in the game that when the door suddenly burst open, you actually jumped in shock. 

Keep reading

The Story of Us

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Mention of death, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Happy 6k to me!!! It's finally here. Those who already read the unedited fic know the scenes I added here... I went crazy again and wrote additional 3kish words. I hope you enjoy!

“Does self-love mean nothing for you?”

You commented lightly at the second female lead as you flipped the page. In your hand was the manhwa your friends were gushing about. They went on and on about how dreamy the main lead was for weeks and how annoying the second female lead was until you finally gave in and went to a bookstore one late night. The cover was unassuming, a mere illustration of a man with dark hair and a milky white skin. Despite the chatters of the few customers, it was like it all went silent when you held the manhwa in your hand. You had no rationale as to why you were staring so hard at the main lead, nor why you felt a jolt of electricity when you traced your finger on his face.

The sudden and inexplainable zap of electricity was enough for you to put the manhwa back to its shelf where it belonged. You had enough for today, you thought. It must be your late nights that finally got to you. You turned and started to walk away when you heard someone called your name.

“Are you not going to buy that?”

You blinked owlishly, turning to look your surroundings before realizing that the voice had come from behind you where an old woman with a pleasant smile on her face stood. You didn’t hear her walk, sure that it was only you in that section of the bookstore.

“Excuse me?” you asked in confusion with her sudden question.

She offered you a smile before reaching for the manhwa you were touching moments ago. “This. Are you not going to buy this?”

You glanced at the book in her hands, the cover innocuous enough—a pale-faced man with dark eyes, his expression unreadable, a haunting sort of beauty that seemed to shimmer under the dim light of the store. The same man whose face had burned into your mind the moment you’d traced your finger over it.

"Huh?" you muttered, not entirely sure what to say. "Oh, no... I—" You fumbled with your words, caught between politeness and that unsettling pull you couldn’t deny. “I’m just looking.”

She tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering, but there was something deeper there now—an unreadable warmth and perhaps... a warning? "Such a shame. This is the last piece," she continued, her fingers running over the cover with a tenderness that made your heart race. "Are you sure you don’t want to enter his universe?"

You stared at her, perplexed. The bookstore was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of other customers. But it felt like there was something else in the air now—something heavier. More alive.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking the strange tension that had settled between you and the clerk. You fumbled it out, your heart still racing. It was a text from one of your friends: "Did you finally get the manhwa? He's sooooo hot, right?!?"

You looked from your phone to the manhwa and there it was again. It was like something was calling you to touch the book. On the other hand, your flight or fight instinct had never been this high, urging you to walk away as soon as possible. The old woman’s gaze never left you, her expression still serene, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. The tension between you felt palpable, like a tether was drawing you back to the book, back to the man on the cover.

"You know what, dear," she continued, her voice now almost conspiratorial, "since we're almost closing, it’s on the house. Let me wrap it up for you."

When you asked her why, it was a line you should have taken in face value.

She said that reading this will change your life.

All that was how you found yourself on your bed with the manhwa and feeling bad for the second female lead. Okay fine, she was not exactly kind. She was a bit bitchy and the typical rich kid who fell for her childhood friend who of course, fell for another woman below their stature. She devised devious ways to get the main female lead out of their lives which only managed to push Min Yoongi, the male lead character, away from her. She wanted him so badly, and she had nothing else to cling to. In the end, he left her alone when all she had was him.

She was left alone, Yoongi gone from her life, and all she had left were her schemes and bitterness. You couldn’t help but wonder what she could have been if she had just let go. If she had let him go, instead of holding on so tightly that she suffocated herself.

She wasn’t a villain, you told yourself, though you knew she was far from a saint.

It wasn’t that you were defending what she did. It was just that you felt for her, strangely. You had no family of your own too, and maybe that was why you held on to your friends. You thought that if you were as pretty and as wealthy as her, then you wouldn’t spend all your time and energy pining after Yoongi. You thought about her—so pretty, so polished—and you wondered, If I were her, would I have acted the same way? If you had that beauty, that wealth, that presence, would you still feel this same deep ache for someone who couldn’t love you back? Sure, he was all that. He was handsome, smart, and so manly. For a while, it was just the two of them in their little world until he met the female lead. But then again, if you were her, you would let them be and look for someone who would love you as you were. Surely, there was someone out there for her. You wondered if it would be easy to just walk away, you thought. But then, you didn’t know what it was like to have everything and still lose the one thing that mattered most. To feel like there was no one left who could make you feel whole.

The story was so intriguing with the right amount of suspense that kept you up all night. Despite you being a non-mahwa reader, you could not bring yourself to stop reading until you reached the ending.

The words of the final chapters echoed in your mind as you read through them. Yoongi’s happiness came at her expense, and as you turned the page, you saw the final blow: She died. She died because Yoongi decided to save the main female lead from drowning instead of his childhood friend. Just like that. No grand redemption, no change of heart. She was gone. “Of course, she dies,” you murmured in annoyance as you flipped the page. “Was that really necessary for this Yoongi to get his happy ending?”

You put the manhwa down on your chest and looked up at your bedroom ceiling. You felt tears forming in your eyes and before you knew it, they were streaming down your cheeks and onto the manhwa. “Poor you. You deserved better,” you whispered as sleep took you away.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, it felt like you were in a dream. More precisely, you woke up to a familiar room. You just couldn’t place it yet where you saw this room before. You sat up from the most comfortable bed you had ever been on, your eyes roaming over the whole room. Where were you?

You looked down and noticed that you were wearing a silk sleepwear…You didn’t own this. In fact, you never liked it because you couldn’t afford it. Did someone dress you in this? Were you kidnapped?

Panic surged through you like a wave, a cold knot tightening in your stomach. The thought alone pushed you to stand up quickly, your head turning rapidly to every corner of the room when a mirror across the room caught your eye. You walked over, unsure of what you were even looking for, but the reflection that met you made your heart stop.

Holy shit.

You froze in front of the mirror, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and panic. The face staring back at you was undeniably familiar but was definitely not yours. It was her—the woman from the manhwa.

Your hand lifted slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, and touched your cheek, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw. The reflection mimicked your every move, except there was no mistake: it wasn’t you. This version of you was flawless—her skin porcelain smooth, her lips full and painted in a soft, understated pink. You blinked hard, willing the image to change, but it remained the same, impossibly perfect.

And then it hit you, harder than any realization should have: You were in her world. You were in her body. You were the second female lead.

What the fuck was this dream?!

You pinched yourself, willing yourself to wake up from this peculiar dream where you were not you, and instead, you were someone of a fictional character. All that it did was reddened her fair skin. You truly tried not to panic, but no one and nothing could have ever prepared you from waking up in someone else’s body! More so of a fictional one. Similarly, you knew this could not be possible. You must have been dreaming.

You were just dreaming…right?

The knock on the door snapped you out of your stupor, your mind reeling as the panic tightened its grip.

“Miss? Sir Yoongi is here to see you,” the voice outside the door called, timid, hesitant.

You blinked, the words barely registering at first. Yoongi? No. No, no, no. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and the world around you seemed to tilt at an impossible angle. You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky, disbelieving breath.

"Y-yoongi?" Your voice sounded strange, foreign in this body, yet with an edge of authority, the voice of someone accustomed to being looked at, obeyed.

“N-no. Why?”

“T-to visit you, Miss. He went straight here from the airport after his three-month work in New York,” she explained with a terrified tone in her voice as though one wrong word would upset you. It did upset you upon horrifying realization that you were in the first chapter of the manhwa. He was coming to see the second female lead, the one who would only ever be a part of his life for the briefest, most painful moments. The one who would disappear when the main female lead entered the picture, leaving behind nothing but heartache and regret.

This was the moment—the beginning of her unraveling. The beginning of your unraveling.

You stumbled back from the mirror, almost tripping over the hem of the silk nightgown that clung to your skin. It felt wrong. This wasn’t your body. This wasn’t you. You couldn’t be her. You couldn't.

But there you were—she was—standing in front of a mirror, and it was your face that stared back, the same face that would soon be abandoned in favor of the main lead. The face that would die tragically, just as Yoongi chose someone else.

A cold sweat broke out on your skin as you pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart race, the pulse throbbing in your throat. The maid outside the door was waiting. She was waiting. Yoongi was waiting.

“Miss? Are you coming?” The maid asked again, sounding more nervous now. “Sir Yoongi is waiting.”

You felt your legs walked to where the door was as though they had a mind of their own, as though they were simply following the plot where you had to face her childhood bestfriend, as though you had no choice in this. The door creaked as it slowly opened, and the maid stepped back with a small, nervous bow. “Miss,” she murmured softly, her eyes flicking between you and the hallway.

There he was. Yoongi. Standing in the hallway, waiting for you.

His broad back was turned to you, his focus was on the huge window overlooking the garden below. His hands were in his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice the bags of designer clothes and jewelries beside him. It was always like this. Yoongi would spoil her with everything, his love a quiet promise wrapped in material things. His affection was given in expensive packages, just because he missed her. It was a thing the main lead, Yoongi, and her had for the longest times. He spoiled her rotten, and in turn, she loved him unconditionally until he realized that it wasn’t her love that he wanted. It was someone else’s.

You felt your chest tighten as you stepped forward, closer to him. And then, slowly, he turned around, his gaze landing on you, his eyes sharp and calculating, as though he was seeing you for the first time. He was just as handsome as you'd imagined, his sharp features bathed in the soft light of the chandelier overhead. His expression, however, was unreadable—his usual aloofness on full display. He had on a simple black jacket, the sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing his forearms.

He was standing there, just as he had been in the manhwa—distant, untouchable, and perfect. The kind of person who seemed to have everything. Everything except the one thing that would make him whole. His lips curved into a faint smirk, the usual aloofness settling over him like a second skin. Yoongi. So damn confident. So certain of himself. Yet there was something flickering beneath that exterior, something you couldn't place.

He took a step toward you, his gaze unwavering, and for a moment, everything felt too heavy, too real. The space between you both seemed like an eternity, but somehow you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

He raised his brows when you remained motionless – so dissimilar to how the second female lead threw herself in his arms in the first chapter. “What?” he said, his voice a quiet challenge. “Didn’t you miss me?”

His words hit you like a cold wave. Didn’t you miss me?

The phrase was so familiar, but it made you flinch. It was the same thing he had said to her. The second female lead. Her. The woman you had now become. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his gaze leaving you paralyzed. How were you supposed to feel? What was the right answer?

Yoongi’s smirk deepened as he took another step closer, his presence commanding the space between you both. He wasn’t giving up.

“Aigoo,” he muttered, as though your silence had amused him. “Is my princess mad at me?” He reached out, cupping your cheeks in his hands and squishing them gently, his thumb brushing across your skin in a familiar, playful gesture. “I promise I won’t be away for that long again, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. My princess. Mad at me? It was just like the manhwa. Just like how the second female lead had fallen for him—how she’d craved his affection, how she had convinced herself that he was the only one who could make her whole.

How could she not fall for him? How could she not love him when he was this—this?

See, who wouldn’t fall for that? You understood the second female lead for falling in love with him, or why she did all those terrible things when he suddenly withdrew all his affections from her. But maybe…you could change the ending. Maybe you could find a happy ending of your own away from him. You could choose differently. You could walk away. You could find your own path, away from him, away from this tragic loop. Maybe—just maybe—there was a way for you to have a happy ending. Not the one written in the manhwa, but one you could choose. One where you didn’t lose yourself in the love of a man who could never return it.

What if you and him could all have your separate happy endings?

But also, what if this was just a dream where you’d wake up later and be in your own bed?

It was almost a week later when you realized that this wasn’t a dream. Despite repeatedly pinching yourself, you still couldn’t wake up from this nightmare. You hadn’t gone out of your room since Yoongi visited, and all messages and calls from him were promptly ignored.

You couldn’t even rule out that you were actively going insane because there was no way that this was now your reality. Something inside you was telling you to do something. It was urging you to fight, to survive, not matter how difficult it would be. It was proven when he visited you and you had no control over what happened. However, you also noted that you could do things somehow differently like not hugging him when he visited, or not being affectionate to him.

There were canon events, yes. There were things that should happen as were already dictated by the manhwa. But you also had a will in this story. And if there was a chance that this was your new reality, then you would do absolutely everything to make sure that you end up living.

You had to be smart. You had an edge, you surmised. You read the entire manhwa and you knew what was going to happen. You knew what to anticipate. And the next scene? The next scene was where Yoongi met the female lead and it would be in a charity ball you and him were attending.

You were dressed to the nines, your makeup was impeccable. Around your neck was one of the second female lead’s extravagant necklaces. The dress that she chose was immaculate, a light-colored floor-length gown that would later on be ruined by the female lead’s accident in the ball. You looked down from the unfamiliar eyes staring back at you in the mirror as your maid informed you that the car was waiting downstairs. You got this.

You weren’t used to her life of extravagance and you could feel a shot of anxiety pumping in your veins as the car neared the event. You could see reporters and cameramen lining up to capture the entrance of the wealthiest of the wealthiest. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for this. You were not a confident person…but she was. You only needed to get through this night and then slowly let the events happened. You would let the two of them fall in love with each other like it needed to be.

“We’re here, miss,” your driver announced, meeting your eyes from the rearview mirror. You took a deep breath and counted to three.

1…2…3-

The door opened and just when you opened your eyes, there he was.

Camera flashes illuminated the scene from his back, yet his focus was on you. His hand was outstretched, waiting for you to reach for it. But damn it, Min Yoongi was impeccable. Just like you, he was dressed to the nines with his tailored dark suit and his brushed up dark hair. He was the epitome of what a main lead should look like. Still, you couldn’t fault both the main and second female lead for falling in love with that face. If only you weren’t trying to stay alive, then you would most probably fall for that face, too.

Too bad you were trying to stay alive.

The weight of the moment settled heavily on your chest as you stared at his outstretched hand. The flashes of the cameras were relentless, their bursts creating a kaleidoscope of light and shadow that painted Yoongi's face with an almost ethereal glow. His dark eyes bored into yours, and for a split second, the world seemed to pause.

You hesitated, your hand hovering just out of reach. This was one of those moments, wasn't it? One of the canon events you couldn’t avoid. Taking his hand was expected, a necessary step to ensure the night unfolded as the manhwa demanded. Yet, the knowledge didn’t make it any easier.

“I don’t think you can hide from me now, princess,” Yoongi’s voice was soft but firm. In fact, there was no annoyance in his tone, only a quiet patience as though you didn’t spend the past days dodging him in every turn.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to push past the whirlwind of nerves. You had to remember who you were now—or at least who you were pretending to be. She wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t hesitate. She was poised, confident, the kind of woman who could command a room with a single glance. She was a woman who knew the power she had over society.

Plastering on a polite smile, you placed your hand in his. His fingers were warm, steady, and for a moment, the contact felt grounding. You couldn’t help but notice how his hand completely engulfed yours, how he made your hands seemed dainty in comparison to his. He helped you out of the car with a practiced grace, his touch lingering for a fraction longer than necessary. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that you felt the same electricity that you did when you first touched the manhwa.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear it.

You knew you had no choice as he guided you up the grand entrance. This was a canon event. The canon event leading up to their meeting. You had to play your part if you wanted to not experience dying in her body.

The flashes of cameras almost blinded you had it not been for Yoongi’s broad back that shielded you from them. The two of you stopped in the middle to smile for the camera, a PR thing Yoongi had to do for his company. His hand rested on the small of your back, gently pushing you closer to him. You knew what would happen like the back of your hand, and just as written, one of the reporters asked him to define his relationship status with you.

She’s the most important woman in my life.

“She’s the most important woman in my life,” Yoongi declared with unwavering sincerity, his deep voice resonating through the flashes and murmurs of the crowd. As he looked down at you, his lips curved into that signature, disarming smile—the kind that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

The ball was just as grand as you imagined. It was apparent that the rich spared no expense in this and you couldn’t imagine that you would experience this in your life. Yoongi’s gaze lingered on you, an unreadable expression flickering in his eyes as he watched you take it all in. There was something almost amused about the way he observed you, though he said nothing. It was almost comical to him how you were impressed with this when the friend he knew practically grew up in this extravagance. You were in awe at the intricate details, the food and drink being served, and the expensive jewelries that would be auctioned tonight.

“What do you want me to bid for?” Yoongi asked, his voice low and smooth as he tipped his wineglass to his lips, his dark eyes not straying from you.

You let out a short chuckle, already knowing what to say. “I want that old ring the Queen once owned,” you answered monotonously. It was the most expensive item in the auction, and exactly the kind of thing the second female lead would desire. You, on the other hand, felt that it was ridiculous to desire something that was given by someone who dearly loved the Queen. Yoongi merely lifted his dark brow before nodding his head.

As always, her will was always his command– until it wasn’t.

The bidding war for the final piece, the ring, didn’t take that long as Yoongi continuously bidded ridiculously high amounts that the businessmen could not keep up with the younger man. Yoongi didn’t even flinch as the bids shot up. He stood there, effortlessly cool, his back straight and shoulders squared, his eyes locked on the auctioneer like a predator stalking its prey. The others tried to keep pace, their offers becoming desperate, their faces flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation as Yoongi continued to raise the stakes, his voice cold and assured as he increased his offer without hesitation.

In the end, Yoongi won. And it showed with the way he turned back to you, that same smirk still dancing at corner of his lips.

This was it.

This was the moment.

Yoongi was walking to you, his expression still that of a triumphant victor as he made his way to you. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes to him. The way his dark eyes were trained on you was captivating and you were captivated. It was as though you were the only one in this room to him, like all other people could disappear and he wouldn’t even blink. In fact, you were too captivated that you almost forgot what the next scene was.

But just as was written by the author, a waitress tripped, your light-colored dress now splashed with red wine, a stark contrast. The sound of glass breaking, the accident itself, was enough to silence the whole ballroom. Your mouth hanged agape as you looked down at your dress, and then slowly, you lift your eyes to the waitress.

Your eyes met the female lead’s. Hers was comically wide as she continuously apologized to you, her expression that of panic as her manager and more people flocked to where you were.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice was sharp, his usual calm replaced by a low, controlled edge. His hands clasped your arms with a firm but steady grip, his gaze darting between your face and the ruined fabric of your gown. The pristine, light-colored dress was now stained with crimson, the deep red wine soaking into the fabric and spreading like an ominous bloom.

Your eyes flicked back to the waitress—her—the female lead. Just as the manhwa dictated, there she was, the unassuming heroine, standing in front of you with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she stammered apology after apology, her hands trembling as she bent down to pick up the shards of broken glass at her feet. You saw her flinched.

“I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Please forgive me, Miss!” she pleaded, her voice shaky and sincere. The panic on her face was painfully familiar. You’d read this scene before. You knew every word, every gesture.

And yet, being in it now, living it—felt different.

Your dress was ruined, yes, but more importantly, this was the moment. The one where Yoongi, the ever-distant, untouchable main lead, would first notice her. Where his protective instincts would be stirred, his curiosity piqued by her clumsy, honest nature. This was where it all began—their love story.

Except right now, he wasn’t looking at her. He was still looking at you

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his brows furrowed as his thumb lightly grazed your arm, checking for any sign of injury. There was no recognition in his gaze for the woman kneeling at your feet, no acknowledgment of her presence.

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. By now, he should have been helping her, offering her a reassuring smile, gently lifting her to her feet. That was what the script demanded

But here he was, his focus entirely on you.

“I…” Your voice faltered as your mind raced to adjust. You needed to steer this back on track. The story needed to progress, or everything could spiral out of control. “I’m fine. It’s just the dress,” you said, forcing your tone to be light, dismissive, as though the ruined gown didn’t matter.

Yoongi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze hardening. “It’s not fine,” he said, his voice firm. He turned, his sharp eyes landing on the waitress. The poor girl visibly flinched under his scrutiny, her hands freezing mid-motion as she tried to gather the broken pieces.

“It was an accident,” you said quickly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “Yoongi, it’s fine.” Your words were deliberate, almost desperate. You needed him to look at her, to notice her, to play his part in the story.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but at last, his gaze shifted to the waitress. There it was—that flicker of recognition. The moment his eyes softened, his expression melting into something less severe.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her, his tone still carrying a note of authority, but the sharp edges were gone. This was it—the moment you’d been waiting for.

The girl shook her head quickly, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “N-no, sir! I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Enough,” Yoongi interrupted gently but firmly. He crouched down, his movements slow, deliberate, as he began picking up the shards of glass alongside her. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath, all eyes on the enigmatic businessman lowering himself to help a clumsy waitress. “Be careful. You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said with a much softer voice. His gaze lingered on her face, and it was apparent that you were now forgotten.

And there it was—their first connection. The moment the story truly began.

You exhaled slowly, stepping back as the crowd around you began to disperse, the murmurs of the guests returning to their usual buzz. This was how it had to be. You just had to step back now and let their love story grow.

You reached the balcony and you thanked heavens that you were alone. You breathed a sigh of relief, both for the gratitude that you were alone and for surviving that scene. You were looking up at the stars when you felt a suit jacket landed on your shoulders, safely engulfing you with warmth and against the cold night.

You turned, not knowing who to expect but he was definitely not it. You didn’t even know who he was.

The handsome man met your eyes before flashing you a charming smile of his own that was enough to disarm you. “What a shame…”

You blinked, confused by his sudden appearance, your heart still racing from the scene inside. "What is?" you asked, voice quieter than you'd intended, as your eyes darted back toward the ballroom doors.

"That your dress was ruined," he said smoothly, his tone playful, though his eyes seemed to hold something more—curiosity, maybe, or perhaps something deeper. "You were the most beautiful girl there. You managed to catch everyone’s attention when you entered the room– including mine."

Sputtering at his confidence, you felt your cheeks heated up from his statement. “Were?”

The side of his eyes crinkled as he looked at you. He couldn’t believe that the elusive and untouchable you were giving him the time of the day. You were always in Yoongi’s orbit, and everyone knew how powerful his family was. It was always the two of you in your own little world, and Yoongi was seldom far from you. It was the reason why suitors couldn’t reach you. No one needed the Min Yoongi for an enemy.

It was safe to say that the relationship between the two of you were always a question mark to the onlookers. In the world of the rich, the two of you should have been long engaged if that was the case. And a chance that Yoongi was far from you was not to be wasted. And so, he took the chance.

“You still are,” he breathed honestly. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were so magnificent and he understood why Yoongi was similar to a guard dog when it came to you. He extended his hand to you. “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

You only had to wait, but the waiting got boring. When you’d read the manhwa, the pacing had felt seamless, the love story unfolding with a rhythm that kept you turning the pages. Here, however, their love story took time.

It turned out that not only were you bored, but you were also extremely wealthy in this life. You rationalized that it would be okay to enjoy her life just a little.

Leaning on the balcony railing, you released your fifteenth sigh of the day, staring blankly at the sprawling estate below. Behind you, the ever-dutiful maid hovered, hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her expression flickered between concern and trepidation, as though bracing for one of the infamous tantrums her mistress was known for. Lately, though, you’d given her nothing of the sort—no sharp words, no impatient outbursts. That, in itself, seemed to unsettle her.

However, another sigh from you finally prompted her to ask you what was wrong.

Her eyes widened, startled by the question. “I… I suppose I’d pay off my family’s debts,” she admitted, voice small. “It’s been weighing on us for years.”

“How much?” you asked, your tone casual, as though inquiring about the weather.

“Three million,” she murmured, her cheeks coloring as though the very amount embarrassed her. “But I couldn’t possibly—”

“Consider it done,” you interrupted breezily, waving off her protests. “Next?”

“Maybe…I’d go to Paris?”

You nodded, your eyes gleamed as the spark of inspiration ignited within you. A brilliant, slightly impulsive idea. “That’s perfect. Grab your passport.”

It turned out that Paris was also someone’s favorite place.

You were sitting in a café one late afternoon, willing the time to pass by quickly so you could return to your life as evidenced by your poor attempt at reading a book when the chair in front of you was suddenly occupied. With your peace suddenly gone, you looked up and met his eyes. He was smiling at you, his dark hair brushed away from his face, so dissimilar to how formal he looked when you met him.

“We must stop meeting like this.”

He chuckled at your expression before he leaned in on the table. “In Paris, of all places. I have to say, this is starting to look like fate.”

Who was he exactly?

You tried to rack your brain of his scenes in the manhwa, and you had been ever since you met him in that ball. He wasn’t supposed to be in the scene…or was it possible that that happened behind the scene when the focus wasn’t on you, but on Yoongi and the female lead?

“Do you believe in fate, Mr. Kim?” you titled you head in curiosity, looking at him intently for any sort of familiarity that may come your way.

“I do and I don’t. I think that fate is an abstract concept that no man can ever define. There are some things that we are just too powerless to stop; and there are some things that we are too powerful to accept,” he stated with a smile on his face. “You’re here because of fate, Y/N. Don’t you think so?”

“What?”

Taehyung chuckled and patiently waited as the waiter placed his cup of hot chocolate on the table. “I think that you’re fated to be here at this exact moment.”

“What are you saying, Taehyung?”

“I’m saying, have dinner with me tonight.”

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. On the other hand, you could say that the past few days were one of the most interesting days of your life. You never knew that that little dinner with Taehyung could result to you gaining a true friend here. He was interesting, quirky, wise, and full of life. You also learned that he went to the same school as the original second female lead and Yoongi attended, and that he could never befriended you before because Yoongi was always with you. He offhandedly noted that it was so rare for him not to be with you when before, wherever you went, he would follow. Speaking of the character that you assumed, her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better. If you wanted to live, you had to do the opposite of what the second female lead did.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more with Taehyung. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Going somewhere?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in. You did your part by staying the hell away from them….so why was he here?

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. You could practically see the wheels turning in that intelligent brain of his as he sized you up. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

He stuck by you like a shadow and he all but bought the entire hotel floor. He was adamant on spending every moment with you. The most baffling part? He still kept in touch with her. He called, he texted, he checked in on the female lead—but here he was, right beside you, refusing to leave. It made no sense. To add confusion to the mix, Yoongi kept on shooting dark glares at your phone whenever it chimed from Taehyung’s messages and he felt himself getting irritated. He wondered who was brave enough to message you when no one used to before except him.

You had been away for him for just a short time and yet, he felt like you were so far away already, like something shifted, like your entirety changed. It was like you were not the best friend he used to have.

You looked down at your phone as soon as it chimed again and you couldn’t help but chuckled at the silly selfie he took with a duck. You were too engrossed in your phone that you missed the way Yoongi gripped his utensils. You and him hadn’t spent time together since you were so busy evading him and now that he finally caught up with you, your attention was somewhere else.

Why were your attention not on him?

Who was stealing your attention away from him?!

Was this how you punished him because of his current fling?

The sound of Yoongi’s sharp exhale pierced the air, and you glanced up just in time to see his fingers grip the edge of his glass with more force than was necessary. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed—not at the phone in your hand, but at you. He didn’t say anything, but the silence between you both was thick with something unspoken, a tension you had been drowning in since he followed you here.

It wasn’t that you wanted to ignore him, but the truth was... you didn’t know how to deal with this version of Yoongi. The one who wasn’t following the script. The one who was here in Paris, beside you, watching you laugh at Taehyung's ridiculous duck selfie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s so funny?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but it was sharp. He didn’t bother to look at your phone. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on your face, his eyes a shade darker, deeper than you remembered them being.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in his mood. “Oh, nothing, just a ridiculous selfie from my friend,” you said, still chuckling to yourself. “He’s with a duck.”

“He?” His voice held a dry amusement, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable.

You could feel the subtle tension thickening in the air, like the weight of a storm about to break. Yoongi's question hung between you like a spark in dry tinder. You shrugged, pretending to be casual, though the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. "Yes, he. My friend Taehyung," you said, not looking up from your phone.

But you could feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into you, every syllable of his next words like a tightening coil. “Taehyung,” he repeated, his voice cold and deliberate, as though testing the name on his tongue. His grip on his glass had tightened to the point where his knuckles were white, but it didn’t stop the slow, calculated sip he took, his gaze never leaving you.

The way he said his name made it seemed like your friendship with him was a mistake, a simple blunder on your end that shouldn’t have happened. It did feel like you stepped on a live mine, and you wondered why you were feeling like this when from what you knew about his character in the manhwa, Yoongi was a pure person. However, right now he felt like a dangerous one.

What were you supposed to do?

“You’re thirty now,” you said instead, steering the conversation away from an unfamiliar territory as you placed the phone facedown. The two of you were having brunch in a famous restaurant and you were thoroughly enjoying the croissant moments before the conversation turned sour.

He regarded you for a moment, fully aware of how you this was your sad attempt at changing the subject until he decided to put you out of misery. He nodded, waiting for you to make your point.

“You’re not getting any younger-”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “What’s the point of this conversation, princess? You’re starting to sound like my grandma." He paused, as if savoring the thought. "By the way, she keeps asking for you. Says, and I quote, ‘her favorite grandchild never comes to visit anymore.’ Not even a phone call. Meanwhile, I’m still here, the actual grandchild, and I get nothing."

His glare was sharp, but there was no real venom behind it—just the familiar teasing edge that made you both roll your eyes and laugh, despite yourself.

“W-well! I’m just concerned that you won’t have a wife and any children of your own and that you’d grow old alone! I’m just a friend expressing concern over her best and oldest friend…” you rationalized. Fine, you were having fun teasing him while nudging him in the right direction. Yoongi was fun to mess with, you thought, if he was being himself and not the confusing and quite off-putting mood he was in a while ago.

You thought that he would react the way you anticipated him to, that he would get defensive and after which, hopefully, that he’d go back to their love story.

He did none of those things.

Instead, Yoongi leaned in, his manly scent permeating. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, all while looking at you. “Why are you saying that I’ll be alone when I have you?”

You blinked, trying to process what Yoongi had just said. His voice, low and warm, carried a weight that wasn’t there a moment ago. You wanted to laugh, to brush it off like the teasing banter you two always shared, but the way his dark eyes held yours made it impossible. “I have you for always, right, princess? You’re not going to leave me for someone…beneath us, right?”

What?

His words seemed like he was pointing to another thing, like what he was asking you was a promise to be set in stone and not a mere assurance on his part. What was the real second female lead to say in situation like this?

“O-of course! We’re best friends! N-now let’s get out of here. I saw this beautiful necklace in that shop. It’s going to look beautiful on her. Maybe if you buy her that, then she’d forgive you for spending your birthday away from her,” you joked to deflect him, standing up and gathering your purse to escape the situation you found yourself in before he could even blink.

Think, Y/N. Think.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass, staring blankly at the flickering candle in the center of the table. The plot was veering off course, drifting further from the original narrative you knew by heart. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to be here with you, his steady presence upending the delicate balance of the story.

The main lead wasn’t supposed to stay by your side like this

Across the room, Yoongi was speaking with one of his father’s acquaintances, his posture relaxed but exuding the quiet authority that came so naturally to him. It gave you a few precious moments to breathe—and to think.

Ever since Paris, Yoongi almost never let you out of his sight. He would spend every free time of his with you. You couldn’t even refuse because he would get so suspicious. His best friend never said no to him, he knew that. Your previous actions of distancing yourself from him resulted in him latching on to you. What could you do to push him in the right direction which was to be with her?

What was the next canon event?

And then it hit you.

The company gala. The turning point. That was when he would bring her, the female lead, into the lion’s den. His family’s icy disapproval, their sharp-edged words of disdain, and their outright rejection of his choice would culminate in a dramatic declaration. Yoongi would stand by her side, rebel against his family, and announce that she was the one he wanted to marry.

It was a pivotal scene. A non-negotiable in the grand arc of his story.

You exhaled shakily. If you could just steer him toward that event, everything will fall back into place. You just needed to figure out when it was happening now that the timeline was unraveling in ways you couldn’t predict.

You just had another problem, though. The man that was now walking back to you was acting like someone who had his heart set on another, so unlike the Min Yoongi from the manhwa who only had eyes for her. His attention was unwavering, but it should not have been pointed to you but to her. The way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, his refusal to leave your side—it was all wrong. None of it fit.

“Sorry about that,” Yoongi’s voice broke through your thoughts as he returned to the table. He slid back into his seat, his sharp eyes scanning your face. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

“About what?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious, and the warmth in his gaze made your stomach twist. He did hope that your attention was not being diverted by someone he didn’t even want to mention. He couldn’t even understand why the thought of you with someone else didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t understand why he had this urge to remove the pest away from you.

“Doesn’t you company have an annual gala? I was thinking of what to wear. When is it again?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink to hide your nerves.

He was looking at you as though deep in thought, as though you were forgetting something. He tilted his head to the side, “You know it’s always in December. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess,” Yoongi said, his voice laced with mild curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you. “Why? You’ve never been one to care much about those kinds of things before.”

Your breath caught at his words. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess. The familiarity, the ease with which he said it, threw you off. That line—it didn’t belong here. Not in this timeline. Not in this version of the story where your role was supposed to be temporary, a placeholder in the grand narrative between him and her.

“Right,” you said, forcing a light laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Guess I forgot for a moment. Been busy, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t buy it. His gaze sharpened, a hint of amusement mingled with curiosity. “You? Forget? That’s not like you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes piercing. “What’s really going on?”

The intensity in his gaze made your stomach twist again. Stay calm. Don’t let him see.

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, a touch too quickly. You took another sip of your drink, using the motion to avoid his eyes.

“Anyway, December’s coming up fast, and I’m guessing you’re planning to bring her, right?” You kept your tone light, as if the question didn’t weigh heavily on your chest.

Yoongi’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as his brows furrowed slightly. “Her?”

You swallowed hard. “You know… the one you’ve been calling and texting all the time.” You gestured vaguely, hoping to seem indifferent. “The woman you’ve been—well, I thought you were planning to introduce her to your family at the gala.”

Yoongi smiled again, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s see, princess.”

“Admit that you had fun,” Taehyung teased you as he drove you home.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your lips. Against all odds, you’d genuinely enjoyed yourself. You did have fun. You always thought that movie dates were boring and full of cliché, but not with him. With Taehyung, everything felt effortless—light and uncomplicated, like breathing.

“Fine,” you conceded with mock reluctance, your tone carrying the weight of faux irritation. “It was a fun…”

“Date,” he finished smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement as your voice trailed off.

Your cheeks burned at his audacity, the straightforwardness of the word stealing your ability to respond for a moment. A "date"? Could you even call it that? The way your heart fluttered betrayed any argument you might have tried to form.

You glanced away, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as thoughts tangled in your mind. Was it okay to feel this way? To bask in fleeting moments of happiness when the life you were living wasn’t truly yours? When you were still determined to set things right, to restore the balance of a narrative that had gone astray?

So caught up in your musings, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop in the estate’s driveway. The towering grand doors loomed ahead, a stark reminder of the world you’d return to the moment you stepped out.

“Thank you,” Taehyung’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. It was quiet, genuine, and when you turned to look at him, his face was softer than you’d ever seen it.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here,” he replied simply, his gaze holding yours.

The weight of his sincerity pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world seemed to slow as his hand moved to cup your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

Your breaths mingled, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips hovered so close to yours it was almost unbearable. You could feel the moment hanging on a fragile thread, teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

The room’s golden hues seemed to dim as the sound of the car horn echoed through the driveway, shattering the fragile intimacy between you and Taehyung. You jolted back, your heart pounding in your chest as if caught in an act of betrayal—though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong. Yet.

Taehyung sighed, his expression softening as he glanced toward the car behind him. “Looks like your knight in shining armor doesn’t know how to wait,” he said lightly, though there was a hint of tension in his voice.

You managed a shaky laugh, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly. “He’s just… overprotective.”

“Right,” Taehyung said, leaning back in his seat. His eyes met yours, warm and understanding, but with a flicker of something else—something that made your chest tighten. “Still, I meant what I said. Thanks for tonight.”

Before you could respond, the honk came again, sharper this time, as if Yoongi were making a point. You turned to glance at his car, the sleek black exterior glinting under the estate’s lights. Even from this distance, you could feel his piercing gaze locked on you.

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” you said hurriedly, fumbling with the door handle.

Taehyung smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You stepped out of the car and started toward the grand door, the cold evening air biting at your skin. Yoongi’s car door slammed shut behind you, and the sound of his footsteps was a quiet storm approaching. You didn’t dare look back, your heart a riot of guilt, frustration, and confusion.

“Princess,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the quiet, smooth and controlled, but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He was already close, his dark eyes scanning your face like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His suit was immaculate, as always, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his posture—shoulders just a little too stiff, jaw a little too tight.

“You’re back late,” he said, his tone deceptively casual.

“I went to see a movie with Taehyung,” you replied, keeping your voice neutral.

At the mention of Taehyung, Yoongi’s gaze flicked past you to the car that was now idling at the end of the driveway. You followed his line of sight and felt a pang of unease as his expression shifted. His brows raised slightly as he studied Taehyung through the window, his head tilting just enough to convey an air of quiet disdain.

And then he smirked—a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the Yoongi you were used to seeing. In that moment, he was something else entirely: sharp, commanding, almost cruel. The kind of presence that demanded submission without a word.

“What did you say his last name was, princess?” he asked, still watching Taehyung with that same unsettling smirk. His tone was light, but there was something in it—something dark—that made your heart beat faster.

“Kim?” you replied thoughtlessly, your mind too preoccupied with wanting to escape the tension. “Why did you ask?”

Finally, he turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening just enough to make the moment feel surreal. The shift was so subtle, so practiced, that it left you second-guessing the sharpness you’d just seen. He reached out, his arm sliding around your shoulders with an ease that felt both natural and calculated.

“No reason, princess,” he said smoothly, steering you toward the grand doors of the estate. “Just… curious.”

The warmth of his arm contrasted sharply with the coldness that lingered in the air. It was disarming, the way he could shift so easily between roles—between the man you knew and the one you weren’t sure you ever wanted to meet again.

As he guided you inside, you cast one last glance over your shoulder. Taehyung’s car hadn’t moved, the figure inside still watching. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined the tension mirrored your own.

When the doors shut behind you, the weight of Yoongi’s presence beside you grew heavier. His hand rested lightly against your shoulder, his touch far gentler than the unease simmering just beneath the surface.

"Don’t you have better things to do than come to my dress fitting? Like, I don’t know, actually run your empire or something?" you asked, stepping out of the fitting room with a huff.

Yoongi sat sprawled on the plush sofa, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly in his other hand. He looked utterly at ease, as if this boutique was his second home and not a place he had followed you to.

He shrugged, “Well, we can’t have you running away from me again, can we?”

“For the last time, I didn’t run away! I was in Paris because croissant sounded nice that day-”

“Sure, princess,” he agreed condescendingly. Yoongi’s gaze swept over you, lingering a moment longer than you expected. “On the other hand, you look immaculate in that dress,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You’re going to make the rest of the gala feel underdressed.”

Heat crept up your neck at his words, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Yoongi. Save it for the boardroom or—better yet—for her.”

He raised an eyebrow, swirling the champagne in his glass as if you hadn’t just tried to divert the conversation. “Her?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, her. The one you met in the previous ball? The waitress? The one you’ll be introducing to your family at the gala, remember? Does she ring a bell?”

“We’re still talking about that?” Yoongi asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back into the plush sofa. The glass of champagne in his hand tilted slightly, catching the light as he swirled the golden liquid. “Why are you so invested in my relationship with her?”

“I’m just concerned and curious as a friend.”

He chuckled softly, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Curious, huh? And here I thought you were just jealous.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving yours. “You keep bringing her up. You’re obsessed with the idea of me introducing her to my family, of me texting her. You sure this isn’t just about you not wanting to share me?”

Your face burned, and you turned away, pretending to adjust the dress in the mirror. “You’re ridiculous and I refuse to discuss this further,” you muttered. “I’m going to buy this!” You announced before stalking back to the fitting room to avoid wondering about why your heart was skipping a beat and why you shouldn’t venture into that.

You were huffing as you tried to reach for the zipper behind you when the curtain suddenly opened and Yoongi stepped in, making the room felt impossibly small. You instinctively turned your back to him, clutching at the unzipped dress as though a protection against whatever this was.

“What are you doing here?!”

Yoongi leaned casually against the side of the fitting room, his smirk firmly in place. “Helping you, obviously,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t need your help!” you snapped, tugging at the zipper yourself but struggling to reach it.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said smoothly, taking a step closer. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently moved your hand away. “Relax, princess. I’ll take care of it.”

You froze, your heart pounding as his hands moved to the zipper. His touch was surprisingly delicate, his fingers grazing your back as he carefully pulled the zipper up. The sound of the zipper seemed deafening in the silence.

“There,” he said softly, his voice low and close to your ear. “All done.”

You were about to turn around when he stopped you. You met his dark eyes through the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze held you captive. His hands lingered lightly on your shoulders, warm against the smooth fabric of the dress. There was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of curiosity, amusement, and something far deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re very beautiful, princess. Do you know that?” he whispered, resting his chin on your delicate shoulder.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He was quiet for a moment as though in contemplation whether to say what he wanted to say. Like in the manhwa, Yoongi was calculating. He never did anything without a reason, one of which would benefit him. “I had a nightmare the night after the ball,” he finally confessed, his voice low and almost distant, as if recalling something that lingered in his mind. “We were on the yacht. I think it was a party. You were there… She was there. I was there. And the yacht… it slammed into a rock. The two of you were thrown off.”

If he felt your body went rigid, he didn’t mention. He never broke eye contact, his arms around your waist as he told you of his dream. The one exactly what happened in the manhwa– the one where the main lead chose to save the main female lead first, only to find out the it was already late for the second female lead.

His body was so close that you could feel the slight tremble in his arms as he spoke, his fingers grazing your waist with the same careful intensity.

You met his gaze in the mirror again, and something twisted in your stomach. There was an almost predatory look in his eyes, but there was something else too—something far more vulnerable, raw. He didn’t break eye contact, and his grip on you tightened just slightly, as though he wanted to hold on, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

“In my dream,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw you die because I saved her first. It felt so real, like I was remembering something that already happened.” He paused, and you felt the weight of his words sink in. “Why would I save her first when I know I can’t lose you?”

 “It’s just a dream…” you tried to console him. How could he remember something that happened in the ending? Was the barrier between the characters and the plot weakening? What was changing? And how could you go back to your own world when he was holding onto you so tight as though if he looked away, you’d disappear?

“It is, right? It’s not going to happen... I’ll make sure of it.”

December came.

It was the month you were both dreading and anticipating. You were almost at the end of the story, and so far, you did your absolute best to let their love story unfold without a second female lead antagonizing it. You did your part by staying away from them. One problem though, the male lead was not acting like he was written in the manhwa. He was not acting like a man in love should be to her. Instead, he was out there sticking to you like

It was safe to say that Min Yoongi went rouge.

You did not know what to expect in the annual gala. You no longer have the upper hand. You were in the blind as though you were a real character and no longer a reader. You feared that the longer you stayed in this fictional world, the more likely that you’d be incorporated in the story and no longer as a second female lead that could just easily disappear.

You needed answers on how to escape from this fictional world. Answers eluded you. Worse still, so did the only person who seemed to see you for who you were. Taehyung. Since that night, not once did Taehyung answer you calls nor respond to your numerous messages. You tried asking your trusted staff about him, but even they were mummed. It was only your closest maid who whispered to you what transpired and how Taehyung’s budding business empire had crumbled overnight, crushed under the weight of lawsuits—tax evasion, fraud, and other accusations you couldn’t fathom. The news left you hollow. You hadn’t seen this coming. The man who had been your one source of normalcy, the one who made you feel like a real person instead of a pawn in someone else’s story, had disappeared into the shadows of scandal. You thought to yourself that maybe you really didn’t know him at all and that it was best to just focus on how to once and for all, leave this universe.

But who could you ask?

You continued anxiously tapping your heels on the marbled flooring, observing the guests. You were in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows so you could freely look for her. He would be bringing her, right?

Where is she?

Your eyes scanned the room again, trying to keep your presence hidden in the shadows. The guests were mingling, lost in the glitter of conversation and champagne. Laughter bubbled up in the air, but none of it felt real. Not like it should have. None of this was real, in fact. This was a fictional world where you were stuck in.

You wondered what would happen if you stopped playing her role. But before you could dwell on that thought, the door opened again, and you stiffened. You were expecting to see the main female lead, yet instead, it was Yoongi. The man of the hour. He entered the room and all the guests he passed greeted and congratulated him for setting another record in his empire, yet his eyes always returned to you. Where was she? This was not supposed to be like this. Yet, you knew in the back of your mind that something integral changed. You were in denial about how you no longer had control over this, that you might as well be truly in the story now, no longer an observer, no longer able to hide behind the pages of the manhwa.

You stepped back involuntarily, no longer feeling the courage you had faked for so long. You lost control. You had to find a way out. However, when you slipped away and turned the corner, you bumped into an old, yet dignified woman. You bowed in apologies when it dawned upon you.

You have seen her before.

Slowly, your eyes lifted to hers. You knew her. She was the woman who gave you the manhwa… How was she in this world?!

Your mouth hanged agape as the corner of her lips lifted, her eyes crinkling when she saw the dawn of recognition on her face. “I told you reading it will change your mind.”

“It’s you,” you whispered, taking an unsteady step back. Your eyes darted over her, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t belong in this world. “H-how… How are you here? What’s going on? Y-you have to help me. Why am I here? How can I leave?!”

She studied you for a moment, her gaze steady, unreadable. “You’re here because someone wants you here, dear.”

“I don’t want to be here! I want to go back.”

Her head tilted slightly, her calm demeanor unwavering. “But why? What do you have in your old life that you so desperately want to return to? Aren’t you alone there? Didn’t you have no one to love you?”

“That’s not the point!” you shot back, a tremor running through your voice. “And it’s not different here. No one loves me—no one even knows the real me.”

Her smile deepened, a glint of something—mischief, perhaps?—in her eyes. “Ah, but who do you think was desperate enough, filled with enough sorrow, to pull you into this universe?”

Your breath caught, confusion clouding your mind. “I… I don’t understand.”

“When she died,” the woman began, her voice lowering, as if unveiling a truth long buried, “the manhwa ended. But did you think the characters would simply cease to exist? No, dear. They continued, burdened by the pain of their story. Yoongi was devastated. He regretted everything—every word, every choice, every moment that led to her death. He mourned her. His sorrow was so great, it transcended the story’s limits and reached you.”

Your head spun. “Me?” you repeated weakly, disbelief dripping from your voice.

“Dear, you are her. Just in a different universe. It’s the reason why you sided with her, why you felt for her, why her character called on you, why her pain felt like your own. You are her.”

“I don’t want to be her,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose this. Please—just send me back to my own universe.”

The woman sighed, her expression softening, though her eyes retained their strange, knowing glimmer. “The only way out,” she said slowly, “is through. The manhwa will only release you when its story ends. And you know how it ends, don’t you?”

A cold realization began to settle in your chest. “When he marries the female lead,” you murmured, dread weaving through every syllable. Your words hung in the air, heavy and final.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking your trance. You barely had time to gather your thoughts before a familiar voice cut through the suffocating stillness.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s low, commanding tone sent a jolt through you, but it was his grip—firm but not harsh—as his hand closed around your arm that made your breath hitch.

You turned to face him, his dark eyes locking onto yours. They were intense, holding a darkness that made your stomach churn. Something simmered beneath his composed exterior, something unsettling.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “I just arrived, princess,” he said, the pet name rolling off his tongue like silk. “What are you doing here? Alone?”

“I…” You hesitated, your mind racing for an excuse. “I was just talking to—”

When you turned back, the old woman was gone.

Your heart sank, panic surging through you. The corridor where she had stood moments ago was now empty, as though she had vanished into thin air.

Yoongi frowned, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Talking to who?” he pressed, his voice dropping.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but the weight of it was crushing. “No one,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “She must’ve left before you got here.”

Yoongi looked down at you, his expression calm, his gaze steady. Yet, something about the way he held himself—the deliberate gentleness, the faint curve of his lips—made unease coil tightly in your chest. A part of you whispered that this tenderness was a mask, that he wasn’t as naïve or benign as he seemed.

But then he smiled.

It was a tender smile, soft around the edges, and for a fleeting moment, your doubts dissolved like mist under the morning sun.

“Let’s get back to the party, princess,” he said, his voice a soothing balm against the tension humming in your veins. “Your parents arrived.”

Your steps faltered. “My parents?”

The mention of them sent a jolt through you. They were a peripheral presence in the story, barely more than a footnote in the manhwa’s narrative. They were always overseas, managing their company, distant figures who left their daughter to fend for herself. Their absence was a plot device, a catalyst for your dependence on Yoongi.

But now, they were here.

“W-why are they here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your effort to steady it.

Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression didn’t change, but there was something unsettling in the way his eyes softened, like he was trying to calm a skittish animal. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone quiet yet resolute.

The words only made your pulse quicken. He offered his arm to you, his demeanor so effortless, so composed, as though he hadn’t just upended everything you thought you knew about the storyline. “Shall we?”

Were you imagining things, or were the guests’ gazes lingering just a little too long as you and Yoongi re-entered the ballroom? Conversations paused, eyes flickering in your direction, a murmur of whispers spreading like ripples across the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Yoongi, as always, was composed. His hand rested lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with an ease that belied the tension curling in your chest. You tried to focus on the glittering chandeliers, the music, the familiar opulence of the space, but the weight of the stares made it impossible.

“There’s our little girl!”

The warm, dignified voice cut through the hum of the crowd, pulling your attention to its source. Your mother stood near the edge of the room, resplendent in a gown that rivaled the grandeur of the occasion. Her face lit up with delight as she strode toward you, arms outstretched.

“Y-you’re here…” you stammered, shock rendering you momentarily immobile as she pulled you into an embrace. Her movements were graceful yet firm, as though she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Of course, we’re here,” she said, stepping back to study your face, her smile warm but tinged with something calculating. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s not every day that our dear daughter gets engaged.”

Your heart raced, panic rising as you tried to process what was happening. “I… I don’t understand,” you managed, your voice trembling as you looked between your parents and Yoongi.

Yoongi stepped closer, the warmth of his hand on your back turning into a subtle yet firm pressure. His voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for your ears, as his sharp eyes held yours in an unrelenting gaze.

“It’s all been arranged, princess,” he said softly, his words almost tender but laced with steel. “Your parents and mine have been discussing this for some time. They thought tonight was the perfect opportunity to make it official.”

Your heart pounded in protest, the world around you narrowing to just him and the enormity of what he was saying. “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “This is wrong! You don’t want this, Yoongi. You have her. And I—”

“You what?” he interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You have Taehyung?”

“No!” you snapped, shaking your head. “This isn’t about him. This is about them deciding for us. This is about tying your life to mine when you don’t even want to!”

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning but without any real humor. “Who says I don’t want to?”

“Yoongi—”

“Look, princess,” he cut you off, his voice soft but commanding. “We just have to act like we’re going along with this. Just pretend. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught, and you searched his face for some hint of his true feelings. But all you found was a calm determination that left you more uncertain than ever.

The murmur of the crowd reached you, the polite applause growing louder as you turned toward the center of the room. Yoongi extended his hand, his posture exuding confidence and charm as he guided you toward the raised platform where your parents and his waited.

The spotlight followed the two of you as you ascended albeit reluctantly, every step feeling heavier than the last. The room seemed to hush, the weight of their expectations bearing down on you.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Yoongi began smoothly, raising his glass in a toast. His voice carried easily, commanding the attention of the entire ballroom. “Tonight is a special night, not just for our families, but for me. I’m honored to announce my engagement to this incredible woman beside me, my childhood best friend, the only woman who have never left my side. I cannot live without her, and soon, I’ll never have to.”

The applause erupted, deafening and overwhelming. You felt trapped, the walls closing in as Yoongi turned to you, his smile perfectly composed for the crowd.

“Shall we make it convincing, princess?” Yoongi murmured, his voice low and unreadable, carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face with a gentleness that felt at odds with the deliberate precision in his movements. His touch was warm, grounding, yet it sent a jolt through you—a mix of dread and something far more dangerous. 

Your breath hitched. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Min Yoongi—the composed, untouchable Min Yoongi—would lower his head to capture your lips. Even more unthinkable was the way his kiss shattered every expectation, unraveling something deep within you. 

Yoongi kissed like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with a consuming intensity, a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It wasn’t gentle or tentative; it was deliberate, almost punishing. He took and took, claiming you with every movement of his mouth. His tongue brushed against yours, coaxing and demanding at the same time, leaving you breathless. 

His free hand cradled your face, tilting it to him as if to ensure you couldn’t escape—not that your body seemed capable of responding. Your knees felt weak, your heart thundered in your chest, and the noise of the crowd faded into an inconsequential blur. 

For a moment, there was only him. 

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound jolting you back to reality. The cheers and whistles surrounded you, the noise pressing in like a tidal wave. You blinked, realizing that your hands had gripped the fabric of his jacket, as though anchoring yourself to him. 

Yoongi pulled back slowly, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were dark, burning with something you couldn’t decipher. His lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile, as if he knew exactly what effect he’d had on you. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he took your hand in his. The velvet box you hadn’t even noticed being opened now sat empty in his other hand. And then, before you could process what was happening, there it was—a massive diamond glinting on your finger, its size almost blinding under the ballroom lights. It was familiar. How could it not when it was the same ring he won in the auction?

Why did he have this now? When was this entire fiasco prepared?

Your chest tightened as you stared at the ring, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should have. 

Yoongi raised your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. To the crowd, it was the perfect picture of a devoted fiancé. But to you, it was something far more unnerving. 

“You wear it well,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

The applause swelled around you again, the sound nearly deafening as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. 

This wasn’t part of the story. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

But Yoongi, ever the master of control, seemed to have rewritten the script entirely. And you were left standing in the middle of his narrative, unable to tell where the performance ended and the truth began.

The evening air outside was cool and calm, a sharp contrast to the warmth and chatter of the grand party you had just left behind. As the crowd dwindled and the night settled, Yoongi offered you his arm, escorting you toward his sleek black car. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, and his dark eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual.

The night seemed to be endless. You were never left alone even for a moment. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and plan your next step. You had to, or else you were stuck here.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” you said as the car pulled away from the glowing mansion. “I’m sure it was great.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s fine. You’ll always be here to hear my next speech anyway.”

You returned his smile, but it was brittle, not quite reaching your eyes. Had your plan succeeded, this would be one of your last moments with him. You’d return to your world, leaving this Yoongi—and this universe—behind. The thought tightened something in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry about the sudden engagement, princess.” His voice was soft, laced with what sounded like regret, but his eyes told a different story. “My hands were tied. Our families went behind our backs, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Lies. All of it.

What you didn’t know was that Yoongi had orchestrated everything. He had whispered into the right ears, pulled strings behind the scenes, and crafted a perfect storm to ensure this engagement would bind you to him. He didn’t care what the truth was, whether or not you were from this world. He cared about one thing only—keeping you by his side.

Something in him had shifted the moment he realized how easily you could slip away. The very idea of losing you—to this world, to Taehyung, to anything—was unbearable. It drove him to actions he never thought himself capable of, cruel and unapologetic. Taehyung was out of the picture now, his budding empire crushed under the weight of scandal. Yoongi had ensured that, and he felt no remorse.

What mattered was you.

You offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes because if what you were planning was successful, you’d return to your own world and he’d be left in this universe. Yoongi quietly offered you a champagne as the driver smoothly drove back to the mansion.

“Are we celebrating something?” you asked, eyeing the sparkling liquid.

“Just…for always, princess,” he said softly, the words carrying an undertone you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but took the glass, sipping the sparkling liquid. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of shared humor, mutual interests, and a surprising depth of understanding. With each exchange, you were reminded of why you had felt drawn to Yoongi in the first place. For all his intensity and mystery, he was undeniably charming, and being with him felt easy in a way you hadn’t expected.

The spirit of alcohol definitely made you forget about the ruckus that happened tonight. If he said that he didn’t have anything to do with it, who were you to question him when he was characterized in the manhwa as someone who was good?

Your conversation with him was fun. It was grounding.

Until the world began to tilt.

Dizziness crept over you, subtle at first but quickly overpowering. Your fingers loosened around the champagne flute as your head grew heavier, and before you knew it, your cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

“Yoongi…” you murmured, your voice weak as you leaned against him.

He steadied you, his hand moving to cradle your head as you slumped against his shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.You tried to sit up, to stay awake, but your body refused to cooperate. Everything blurred together, and then, there was nothing.

Yoongi’s hand moved to steady you, his touch gentle as he adjusted your position so you rested more comfortably against him. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, before shifting his gaze toward the driver.

“To the airport,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

The driver nodded without hesitation, changing course.

Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his jaw tightening as he studied your sleeping face. He’d heard everything earlier—the old woman’s cryptic words, your desperate plea to leave, and your determination to escape this world.

It all made sense. The nightmare that brought terrors in his heart really happened. You died because of his foolishness, because he chose someone else over you when he knew he couldn’t survive a world without you. It had been like living his worst nightmare all over again, the fear of losing someone he wasn’t ready to let go. But this time, he refused to let it happen.

He wasn’t a religious man, but your presence in this universe felt like a miracle—a second chance, no matter how strange or impossible. Whether you were the original her or not didn’t matter. You were here. You were his.

And he wouldn’t let you leave.

His gaze darkened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” he murmured softly, more to himself than to you.

The first female lead was no longer his focus. She was gone.

Now, it was you.

And Yoongi would do whatever it took to keep you by his side—even if it meant tying you to him so tightly you could never untangle the threads.