hanniberries

[hanniberries]

Shadowbound (PART 2)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭!𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ^ 𝐰𝐜.𝟏𝐤

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟.

Pain.

That was the first thing Seonghwa felt when he woke, sharp and unrelenting. His body was heavy, his wounds freshly stitched, but something far worse clawed at his chest—a dreadful, gut-wrenching feeling that something was wrong.

The air was too still. The castle, too quiet.

"Where is she?" he rasped.

"My lord, you mustn’t—"

The healers barely had time to react before Seonghwa tore himself from the bed. His body screamed in agony, but it was nothing compared to the fear suffocating him. He shoved past their grasping hands, stumbling as he forced his legs to move.

"Your Majesty!" His voice echoed through the vast corridors, but no reply came.

The once-beautiful halls now felt like an endless void, walls pressing in around him as he limped forward. The chandeliers flickered, shadows dancing menacingly along the stone. His breath came in short, uneven gasps.

"Y/N!" He shouted again, his heart pounding wildly.

Still, silence.

Until—

His eyes locked onto a door at the end of the hallway, cracked open just enough to reveal a darkened room. A single crimson stain marred the handle.

Dread settled deep in his bones.

With trembling fingers, he pushed the door open.

Inside, the room was in disarray. Dust swirled in the faint light, old relics scattered across the floor. But his gaze landed on a single object—a book, its pages worn with age, lying open as if abandoned in a hurry.

He forced himself to his knees, biting back a cry as pain shot through his side. His eyes skimmed the text, and as he read, his blood ran cold.

The first Shadow was a knight who loved his queen too much. When fate tore them apart, he sought a sorcerer and begged for their souls to be bound forever. Thus, the curse was born. A Shadow will live only as long as their queen does—when she perishes, so shall he.

Seonghwa’s breath hitched.

He had known nothing of this. He had sworn to protect her, to serve her, but never once had he known that his very existence was tied to hers.

A sharp, searing pain bloomed in his chest. He doubled over, his hands clawing at his heart as an unbearable agony surged through him.

Then—

A scream.

A scream that shattered the silence, piercing through the heavy air like a blade to his soul.

"Y/N!"

Ignoring his pain, he staggered to his feet and ran.

—

The doors to her chambers burst open.

Seonghwa's breath left him in a shuddering gasp.

There she was—his queen, his love, chained to the bed, tears streaking down her face. Above her, a figure in dark robes loomed, a glistening sword hovering just over her heart.

"Step away from her!" Seonghwa bellowed, his voice raw with fury.

The figure lifted their hood, revealing not a monster, but a young woman—no older than Seonghwa himself. Her face was eerily calm, but her eyes held an ocean of sorrow.

"I am the one who created the curse," she said, her voice quiet, almost gentle. "The sorcerer your ancestor came to all those years ago."

Seonghwa's blood turned to ice.

"Why?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "Why are you doing this?"

The sorcerer tilted her head, and tears—silent, unending—slipped down her cheeks.

"Because I loved him," she whispered. "The first Shadow. And he chose his queen over me. He begged me to bind their souls together forever, so that he could never be without her." Her lips trembled. "And so, I cursed them. I cursed all who would come after them. And now, I will end this bloodline forever."

Seonghwa’s heart pounded as he took a careful step forward. He couldn’t act rashly—not with a sword poised above Y/N’s heart.

"Please," he said, voice breaking. "She has done nothing to you."

The sorcerer only smiled—an empty, hollow thing.

"Neither did I," she murmured.

Then she whispered something under her breath.

Seonghwa's body went rigid. A cold, unnatural force bound him in place, trapping him in suffocating stillness. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak.

But he could feel.

The sorcerer’s spell sent waves of agony crashing through him—every sensation his queen felt, he would feel tenfold.

And then—

The blade plunged into Y/N’s heart.

A scream ripped through the room.

It wasn’t just hers.

Seonghwa's vision blurred as unbearable pain tore through his body, as if his very soul was being shattered. He gasped for air, his veins burning, his skin drenched in sweat. He could feel her agony, her struggle, her desperation.

And yet, he could do nothing.

The sorcerer twisted the blade.

Seonghwa’s world shattered.

—

The moment the spell lifted, he collapsed to his knees, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. He forced himself forward, crawling to the bed where his queen lay, blood pooling beneath her.

"No," he gasped, cradling her face in his trembling hands. "No, no, no—Y/N, stay with me."

Her breaths were shallow. Her fingers weakly grasped at his. Her lips parted, but no words came.

Seonghwa let out a broken, anguished cry, pressing his forehead to hers, willing—begging—the gods to take him instead.

But the curse was gone.

The sorcerer had won.

A low, feral growl built in his throat as he turned to the woman who had done this.

His pain turned to rage.

He lunged.

The sorcerer barely had time to react before Seonghwa tackled her to the ground, his hands wrapping around her throat.

"Why am I still alive?!" he screamed, his grip tightening.

The sorcerer gasped, her lips curling into the faintest, cruelest of smiles.

"Killing the queen ends the curse," she rasped. "You no longer belong to her."

Seonghwa’s vision blurred with rage. With a roar of grief, he twisted her neck.

Silence.

The body beneath him went limp.

Seonghwa stumbled back, staring at his trembling hands, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

Then he turned.

His queen—his love—lay still upon the blood-soaked bed.

He staggered toward her, collapsing beside her once more. His hands shook as he brushed strands of hair from her face, his tears falling onto her skin.

He was supposed to die with her. That was how it had always been. That was what he had sworn.

But now, he had nothing.

The world spun. His vision blurred. His body grew cold.

Then—

White.

Nothing but white.

[hanniberries]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 (Part 1)

𝔨𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱!𝔰𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔴𝔞 𝔵 𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔫!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𓂅 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱??

─────⠀𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒔, 𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒚, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 (𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒚 + 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒔) ^ 𝔀.𝓬 1015

The night air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth, a lingering chill whispering through the towering stone walls of the castle. Queen Y/N sat at the grand window of her chamber, staring at the moon that hung like a silver omen in the sky. Her thoughts were clouded, as they often were, by the presence of the one she was never meant to love.

Seonghwa stood in the shadows behind her, as he always did. Silent. Watchful. Bound to her by destiny, sworn to protect her until her final breath. The gods had ordained it so; Shadows were born with their Queens, their fates interwoven like the threads of an unbreakable tapestry.

But the gods had not foreseen this.

They had not foreseen the quiet glances exchanged in candlelit halls, the unspoken words carried in the space between them. They had not foreseen the aching yearning that filled the spaces in their hearts, growing with each passing moment. And now, standing just a breath away, Seonghwa could feel the weight of their unsaid confessions pressing against his chest.

Then the attack came.

It was swift, a blur of motion and steel as assassins infiltrated the castle under cover of night. Seonghwa moved without thought, his blade flashing as he cut down enemy after enemy, his only concern the safety of his Queen. But even a Shadow had his limits.

A blade found its way past his defenses, sinking deep into his side.

Pain erupted in white-hot agony, but he did not falter. He could not. He fought until the last assassin lay dead at his feet, and only then did he stumble. Blood stained the marble floors, pooling beneath him as his vision blurred. And through it all, he saw her—Y/N, rushing to his side, her hands pressing desperately against the wound, her eyes wide with fear.

“Seonghwa,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Stay with me.”

He lifted a bloodstained hand to touch her cheek, the warmth of her skin grounding him. He had never dared before, never allowed himself this indulgence. But now, with the cold fingers of death closing around him, he had nothing left to lose.

“I was always yours,” he murmured, voice weak, “even when I wasn’t supposed to be.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “You cannot leave me.”

He tried to smile. “I was born to.”

She did not accept that. She refused. He was hers, and she would not let him go.

Days passed. Seonghwa’s body healed, though not entirely. He was still weak, confined to his chambers by the castle’s healers. But Y/N could not rest, not after what she had learned.

She had stumbled upon the secret chamber by accident—a hidden passage within the walls of the castle, leading to the long-abandoned quarters of her late mother. There, amidst dust-covered tomes and forgotten relics, she found the book.

The Origin of Shadows.

Her breath had hitched as she read. The first Shadow had been a knight—a man who had loved his Queen with a passion so deep, so all-consuming, that he could not bear to live without her. And so, he had sought out a sorcerer and begged for a way to remain by her side forever. The curse was born that day, binding every Shadow to their Queen until death took them both.

She was shaking by the time she finished.

This was his fate. He would die with her.

She could not allow it.

Without a second thought, she grabbed the book and fled the castle. She needed to find a sorcerer, needed to break this wretched curse before it was too late. She would not let him die because of her.

But she did not know what lurked in the darkness beyond the castle walls.

Shadows moved in the night, unseen eyes watching, waiting. And as she ran, desperation in her every step, she did not notice the figures that slithered from the depths of the forest, closing in.

Her Shadow was not with her.

And danger was fast approaching.

[hanniberries]

A Night To Remember

pairing: Seunghan x female!reader warning: suggestive, steamy

a/n: first time ever listening to beabadoobee and shes sooo good, i suggest you listen to the song as you read.

It was the kind of night that felt like it could stretch on forever. The grand chandelier hung like a thousand stars in the extravagant ballroom, casting a soft golden glow over the masked faces of the guests. Seunghan, the rising star of a popular K-pop group, had been invited to the masquerade ball by one of his industry friends, a rare escape from his usual whirlwind schedule. The air was thick with mystery and anticipation as people moved fluidly through the space, their identities hidden behind elaborate masks.

He wasn’t sure what drew his gaze first—the delicate, graceful woman in the corner of the room or the flicker of tension in the air between her and the man beside her. There she was, standing apart from the crowd, her mask slightly askew, as though she'd stepped out of a dream. She wore an elegant black dress that clung to her form, and her eyes, even behind the mask, seemed to hold a world of stories. Her husband—Seunghan could only assume from the way the man was possessively close to her—was chatting animatedly with a group of people, oblivious to the sparks dancing between them.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Their eyes met, and in that instant, something shifted. A silent, electric connection that neither could deny. She looked away first, her chest rising and falling slightly, as though she too felt the pull. Seunghan, caught in the web of her gaze, couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Then, the soft opening notes of "A Night to Remember" by Beabadoobee and Laufey filled the room, and the moment became even more poignant, almost magical. The room hummed with an intoxicating energy, and Seunghan, propelled by some instinct he couldn’t quite understand, moved towards her. He had to. His feet moved before his mind could catch up.

“May I have this dance?” Seunghan asked softly, his voice low but confident. He could see the surprise in her eyes before it quickly shifted into something else—curiosity, longing, desire.

The woman glanced at her husband, who gave a grunt of approval, rolling his eyes in clear annoyance. His permission—or rather, his begrudging acceptance—was a mere formality. With a small, almost imperceptible nod, she placed her hand in Seunghan’s.

The world seemed to melt away as they stepped onto the dance floor, the rhythm of the music taking control. Their bodies moved together with a fluid intensity that spoke of something deeper. They weren’t just dancing; they were communicating—lips almost touching, breaths mingling, hands meeting in places that made their hearts race. The song’s gentle melancholy was the perfect backdrop, and each step, each turn, was charged with an undeniable tension.

The chemistry between them was undeniable. Seunghan could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body responded to his every movement. The way she leaned into him, the slight hesitation in her step that only made him want her more. She matched him move for move, the energy between them growing with every beat of the music. As the final chords of the song played out, their bodies moved slower, their gazes locked in an almost hypnotic trance.

The song ended with a soft, lingering note, and they both stepped back, their chests heaving, their eyes still holding onto each other in the dim light. Their breaths were heavy, their faces inches apart. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. The room, the people—everything else faded away.

But just as they were about to close the distance, to see where this magnetic pull might take them, Seunghan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He cursed under his breath and backed away, his pulse still racing.

The woman, her expression unreadable, turned and walked quickly towards her husband, who had been watching them with an almost amused detachment. They exchanged a few words, but Seunghan couldn’t hear them over the sound of his own heart pounding. It didn’t matter. He’d felt it. She had too.

---

Two months passed. The memory of that night lingered in Seunghan’s mind like a beautiful, forbidden dream he couldn’t forget. He’d tried to push it to the back of his mind, focusing on his practice and his career, but every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of her face in his thoughts, the way she had looked at him—like she knew exactly what he was feeling.

It was an ordinary day at the dance studio when it happened. Seunghan had arrived early to prepare for his next routine when he was greeted by a new face. A woman in her early thirties, her posture confident yet graceful, walked into the room. She wore a simple but stylish outfit and a professional air that instantly caught his attention.

“Hi, I’m your new dance coach,” she said, her voice warm but commanding. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Seunghan.”

Her eyes widened slightly when she saw his reaction. He hadn’t said anything, but there was no mistaking the recognition in his eyes. It was her—the same woman from the ball. The connection that had sparked between them two months ago flared up again, unbidden. His mind raced, but his heart settled, knowing deep down that he was about to face something undeniable.

But she didn’t seem to recognize him. She looked at him with polite curiosity, as if he were just another trainee. He took a deep breath, trying to mask the thrill running through his veins.

“Well, shall we get started?” she asked, setting down her bag and adjusting the mirror in front of them.

Seunghan had to fight the urge to smile, knowing she was unaware of the bond they had shared that night. “How about we start with a warm-up?” he suggested, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

She raised an eyebrow but agreed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

As the warm-up began, Seunghan had an idea—he didn’t want to let this moment slip away without at least trying. He cued up the very song they had danced to that night, the slow, melodic rhythm filling the space.

Her eyes flickered to the speakers, but she didn’t say anything. Seunghan moved first, his body naturally falling into the steps they had danced together so effortlessly before. He was testing the waters, to see if she would catch on. As the music played, he reached out, offering her his hand.

She hesitated for a brief moment, but then, almost as if against her will, she took it. The air between them shifted. They fell into the dance, and suddenly, it was like no time had passed. The moves came back to them both as if they had practiced them a hundred times. She matched his intensity, her body following his every lead, and they were lost in each other again, just like that night at the ball.

The final note of the song came too quickly, leaving them breathless. The dance ended with them standing so close that their faces were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingled, and for a moment, they were suspended in time, the tension between them thick enough to taste.

But before anything could happen, a sharp knock on the door interrupted them.

The woman quickly pulled back, her face flushing as she rushed to the door. Seunghan remained frozen, his heart pounding in his chest.

The door opened, and in walked her husband, a casual smile on his face as he greeted them both. Seunghan didn’t miss the way the woman stiffened, her expression flickering with something Seunghan couldn’t place.

"Sorry, I was just—" her voice was flustered, but she quickly regained her composure. "Seunghan, we’ll pick up again later. Let's wrap this up for today."

As her husband stepped further into the room, Seunghan’s gaze locked onto hers one last time. The spark was still there—alive and dangerous, but she was already slipping back into her role as his coach, her professional mask firmly back in place.

But Seunghan knew one thing for sure: this was far from over.

[hanniberries]

All For Us

pairing: Seunghan x female!reader warning: angst, character death, no happy ending, stalking, therapy a/n: i totally coulda did better on this icl lol

Seunghan sat in his car outside her house, the engine idling as he stared up at the dimly lit windows. His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel, his mind replaying the arguments, the betrayals, the way her laughter used to soothe him and now mocked him in his memory.

The love they shared had burned brighter than the stage lights he performed under. It consumed him, but it wasn’t enough. Not for her. Not when she decided someone else could give her what he couldn’t.

The front door opened, and he saw them—her and him—walking out together, laughing as if Seunghan had never existed. His heart pounded, anger and heartbreak blending into a single, unbearable force.

“I did it all for love,” he muttered to himself, gripping the wheel tighter.

He followed them, his car a silent shadow in the night. No one noticed him at the intersection where they stopped for coffee, or when they arrived at the rooftop bar downtown. He watched them through the glass, her hand brushing against the other man’s arm in a way that used to be reserved for him.

By the time they left, his mind was made up. It wasn’t about revenge—it was about justice. It was about love.

The alley was dark and quiet when Seunghan approached them. The man turned first, his confusion quickly morphing into panic as Seunghan raised the knife.

“I did it all for us,” Seunghan whispered as the blade gleamed in the dim streetlight.

Chaos erupted. Her screams echoed in the narrow alley as the man fell to the ground. Blood pooled around him, a stark contrast to the white sneakers Seunghan wore.

He turned to her, his face unreadable. “Now we can be together,” he said softly.

She backed away, trembling, but before she could scream again, a sharp, jolting noise broke the scene apart.

“Seunghan?”

He blinked, his vision blurring as the alley dissolved into the soft beige walls of a therapist’s office. The knife was gone, replaced by a pen trembling in his hand. The sound of her screams faded, replaced by the calm, measured voice of his therapist.

“Seunghan, are you listening to me?”

He looked up, disoriented, the weight of his daydream still clinging to him like a second skin. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was just… daydreaming.”

The therapist leaned forward, concern etched across her face, but Seunghan was already gone again—lost in the shadows of his mind where love and obsession blurred beyond recognition.

[hanniberries]

Stolen Melody

pairing: Idol!Seunghan x female!reader warning: angst, character death, no happy ending, stalkers

On his rare day off, Seunghan, the world-renowned K-pop idol, strolled through a quiet park, savoring the freedom of anonymity under a low-sling beanie and glasses. There, he saw her: a girl sitting on a bench, sketching intently in a notebook. Her beauty wasn’t loud; it was in the serene way she existed, entirely absorbed in her art. 

Compelled, Seunghan approached her, heart pounding in a way that no sold-out arena had ever made it do. “What are you drawing?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.

She looked up, startled, her wide eyes meeting his. “Oh, just… the park,” she replied, a small smile forming.

She didn’t recognize him. Relief and intrigue washed over Seunghan. They spent the afternoon talking, her laughter like a melody he wanted to learn by heart.

Days turned into weeks, and their meeting became regular—quiet, secret rendezvous in cafes and parks. Seunghan was careful. His fame cast a shadow too dangerous to let her fully into his world. But in her presence, he felt like just Seunghan, not the idol. 

One evening, parked outside her apartment, Seunghan finally confessed, “I think I’m falling for you,” he said, his voice trembling.

Her smile was radiant. “I think I’m falling for you too.”

They shared a kiss under the dim streetlight, and for the first time in years, Seunghan felt whole.

But the shadow of fame loomed closer than he realized. One of his obsessive stalkers, furious at seeing him dropping her off, followed her home. That night, as Seunghan drove away, humming the tune of his happiness, the stalker broke into her apartment.

Hours later, Seunghan’s phone buzzed. It was a hospital. Confusion turned into dread as they told him the girl—his girl—was critically injured. She had listed him as her emergency contact. 

Seunghan raced to the hospital, barely able to breathe. When he arrived, his heart shattered. He was too late. She was gone. He crumpled to the floor, screaming her name, sobbing uncontrollably as nurses tried to calm him. Someone filmed the raw, heart-wrenching moment. 

Two weeks passed, but Seunghan was a shell of his former self. The video of his grief leaked online, sparking a media frenzy. At a hastily arranged press conference, Seunghan appeared gaunt, his eyes hollow. He faced the cameras, his voice barely above whisper as he announced his retirement. 

“I can’t continue,” he said, standing up to leave.

A reporter called out, “Why are you retiring so young? And only a few months into your growing career?”

Seunghan paused, turning to look at the crowd. His voice broke as he answered, “You took my love from me.”

And with that, Seunghan walked out, leaving behind the stage, the spotlight, and the life that had stolen everything he cared about.