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keehomania · 2 months

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troublemaker (트러블) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

you were trouble, everyone knew it. from the moment you entered a room, you carried an aura that demanded attention, the kind of allure that held people captive in the snare of your presence. in a world where appearances could be weapons, you were the embodiment of femme fatale—an archetype as lethal as it was beguiling. your beauty wasn’t merely skin-deep; it was a complex tapestry woven from threads of danger, allure, and an almost tangible sense of enigma.

your eyes, framed by a cascade of midnight-black lashes, were twin pools of mystery that could ensnare anyone who dared to meet your gaze. they shimmered with an intensity that hinted at secrets too dark to unveil, secrets that whispered of peril and allure in the same breath. when you walked, each step was a masterstroke of elegance and seduction, the hem of your dress swaying like the tendrils of a siren's call. the colors you wore were never just colors; they were statements, woven into the fabric of your being like the brushstrokes of a master painter’s most provocative work.

your voice, when it cut through the ambient hum of a room, was velvet and smoke—rich and inviting, yet laden with the promise of consequences that could spiral into chaos. it could lure and disarm, coaxing even the most guarded heart into the realm of vulnerability. conversations with you were like navigating a labyrinth; each word, each pause, was meticulously crafted to captivate, ensnare, and ultimately control.

in your presence, the air seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, an ethereal glow that made reality seem like a mere shadow of the world you conjured. you moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, a dance that was both hypnotic and dangerous. the way you tilted your head, the slight curve of your smile—it all contributed to a spellbinding performance that kept everyone on edge. if looks could kill, you would have been executed long ago. your mere gaze was a weapon honed to perfection, capable of dismantling the strongest of defenses with a single glance. the enchantment you wielded was not merely a play of physical beauty but a deadly precision of emotional manipulation and psychological prowess. to encounter you was to walk a tightrope over an abyss, where every step was fraught with the potential for either profound enchantment or complete destruction.

you were a canvas of contradictions, a symphony of beauty and menace. each interaction with you was an intricate dance on the edge of a razor, where the thrill of the unknown mingled with the inevitable sting of consequences. In the grand theater of life, you were the lead role in a drama so intense and captivating that it demanded the audience's complete surrender. the enigma you embodied was a work of art in itself, crafted with the precision of a masterful painter and the allure of an ancient legend. you were the perfect embodiment of femme fatale—an archetype so potent that even the hint of your presence could render the most formidable of souls powerless.

you were a vision of lethal elegance, the very embodiment of danger wrapped in glamour. in the dimly lit bar, your presence was nothing short of an intoxicating spell, casting a spell that had everyone under its sway. the room pulsed with life, the throbbing beat of music mingling with the electric current of your allure. all eyes were drawn to you, some with a flicker of lust, others with a trace of envy. you anticipated this reaction with an almost preternatural certainty, knowing exactly how to wield your beauty as a weapon of desire and control.

perched on a plush velvet bar stool, you sipped your martini with an air of nonchalance, the delicate glass catching the ambient light and casting glimmers that mirrored the sparkle in your eyes. the glistening liquid within the glass seemed to reflect the dangerous playfulness that danced beneath your composed facade. every sip was a deliberate act, each moment stretched out to heighten the tension that thrummed through the bar like an electric charge.

as you savored your drink, a man, drawn in by the magnetic pull of your presence, approached you with a confident stride. his gaze was fixated on you with a mixture of desire and admiration. he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur as he offered to buy you another drink. you responded with a smile that could melt steel and a purr that was as soft as it was deadly. “i’m not thirsty anymore,” you whispered, your breath warm against his ear. “in fact, i’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

your words were accompanied by a slow, deliberate exploration of his body—your knee pressed suggestively against the bulge in his pants, your fingertips tracing lazy, teasing patterns along his arm. he was ensnared, mesmerized by the intoxicating blend of your touch and your voice. with each subtle caress, you could feel his resolve dissolving, his body responding with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. you guided him with practiced ease toward the staircase leading up to the hotel above the club. each step you took was measured, each glance you cast over your shoulder a calculated part of the seduction. when you reached the room you had rented hours before, the anticipation hung in the air like a charged current.

inside the room, the atmosphere shifted from the vibrant chaos of the bar to an intimate and charged tension. you pushed him onto the bed with a combination of grace and dominance, your lips finding his in a heated kiss that spoke of all the promises and perils to come. as the passion intensified, you suddenly pulled away, a playful smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “wait here,” you instructed, your voice a velvet command as you slipped away to the bathroom. the soft click of the door closing behind you was the only sound before you emerged, your form now adorned only in a lacy bra and panties. in your hands, you held a bundle of rope, its coiled lengths a stark contrast to your alluring appearance. you presented it to him with a languid, almost theatrical flourish, the rope glistening in the soft light as you displayed it with a provocative grace.

his eyes were locked on the rope, his eagerness palpable as he reached out, his breath quickening with anticipation. but before he could fully grasp his desires, you were swift and unerring. the rope was suddenly around his throat, its fibers cold and unyielding against his skin. his eyes widened in shock, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to breathe. the thrill of the moment was palpable in the room, the transformation from seduction to danger swift and complete.

your expression remained impassive, almost detached, as you tightened the rope with measured precision. you watched with an indifferent gaze as the life began to ebb from his eyes, the struggle growing weaker with each tightening of the rope. the room was silent save for the faint, strangled sounds of his attempts to breathe, and your own calm, steady breaths as you held him in your grip.

once the light of life had dimmed from his eyes, you released the rope with a smooth, practiced motion, the finality of your actions as clean and efficient as the execution of a well-rehearsed performance. without a moment's hesitation, you retrieved your phone from the nightstand, dialing the number you knew by heart. your voice was cool and composed as you delivered the message, “the job’s finished.” the transaction was complete, your demeanor as flawless and unperturbed as ever. the power of your presence, combined with the lethal precision of your actions, left no room for doubt. your looks could, indeed, kill.

in the dimly lit ambiance of a high-end club, where shadows danced along the walls and whispers wove through the air like silk, kim namjoon emerged as a figure of compelling elegance and magnetic allure. his presence was a striking contrast to the dim setting, an embodiment of polished sophistication and commanding charm. from the moment he entered the room, it was as if the very air around him shifted, aligning with his undeniable magnetism.

his appearance was nothing short of captivating. his sharp, chiseled features were sculpted with an artist’s precision—his high cheekbones, a strong, defined jawline, and the perfectly straight bridge of his nose created a visage that could have been plucked from the pages of a fashion magazine. his eyes, dark and intense, held a glimmer of mischief beneath their calm facade. they were the kind of eyes that seemed to see through every pretense, a deep, penetrating gaze that drew people in and held them captive, like a spell they were powerless to break.

his hair was styled with an effortless grace, each strand falling into place as if it had been carefully tousled by an unseen hand. it framed his face with an artful disarray that only enhanced his allure, giving him a look that was both casually disheveled and meticulously groomed. every movement he made was fluid, a smooth, deliberate motion that spoke of both confidence and control. his attire—a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame—was a testament to his keen sense of style. the fabric draped over him with an elegance that was both understated and luxurious, the dark hue of his suit contrasting sharply with the warm glow of the club’s lighting.

as he navigated through the room, every step seemed to radiate a quiet power, his aura compelling and commanding. there was an inherent grace to his movements, a calculated ease that made him seem as though he were gliding rather than walking. women turned their heads as he passed, their gazes lingering with a mixture of admiration and desire, their reactions a testament to the impact of his presence.

he knew precisely how to wield his beauty and charm, turning it into a weapon of seduction and influence. his smile was a carefully honed tool, flashing with just the right amount of warmth and allure to disarm even the most guarded soul. it was a smile that suggested both confidence and an intimate understanding of human nature, a combination that made him irresistibly intriguing. in conversation, his voice was a smooth, velvety timbre that could both soothe and stir, a voice that could command attention or whisper promises of indulgence. each word he spoke was measured and deliberate, imbued with a charisma that made every interaction feel like a dance. he could make the simplest of exchanges seem like a tantalizing game, where every glance and every phrase was part of a larger, more complex play.

kim namjoon was more than just a man of striking appearance; he was an embodiment of an almost otherworldly charm that made him a force to be reckoned with. his beauty was not merely skin-deep but a carefully curated blend of aesthetics and allure, sharpened by a sly intelligence and a commanding presence. his very being radiated a magnetic energy that drew others to him, an aura of irresistible power and charm that made him both a captivating enigma and an undeniable force.

as he moved through the crowded club, his presence was like a magnetic force drawing the eyes of every observer, yet his attention was singularly focused on one woman. she was a vision of allure, her eyes locked onto him with an unspoken recognition of his power and charm. he approached her with a fluid grace, his every movement deliberate and poised.

he came from behind her, his touch an intimate caress that seemed to awaken a shiver down her spine. she arched into his touch, as if her body had anticipated his arrival, responding to his presence with a blend of eagerness and trust. his fingers traced a path along her delicate skin, sending waves of warmth and anticipation through her. leaning in, he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “do you wanna get out of here?” the words were laced with a promise of excitement and danger, an invitation wrapped in seductive undertones. she nodded almost imperceptibly, her lips curving into a smile of eager compliance as she allowed him to guide her through the throng of revelers.

as they navigated their way out of the club, namjoon’s hands continued their languid exploration along her back and sides, each touch a reminder of the allure he wielded with such ease. they moved together in a rhythm of anticipation, their path illuminated by the flashing lights of the city as they ventured into the shadowed recesses of an alleyway. in the quiet, obscured alley, the vibrant chaos of the club seemed like a distant memory. his whispers became more insistent, his words slipping into a darker, more provocative territory. the woman's excitement was palpable, her breath hitching as his voice wove a tantalizing promise of what was to come.

as they reached a more secluded spot, his hand brushed against his pocket, his keys falling from his grasp and clattering onto the ground. he paused to retrieve them, his movements precise and deliberate. it was in this moment of vulnerability that the woman's anticipation turned to confusion, her eyes widening as the reality of her situation began to dawn on her.

in a swift, practiced motion, his demeanor shifted from seductive to menacing. as he straightened, his hands were no longer gentle but cruelly firm. his fingers closed around her throat with an unyielding grip, his strength a chilling contrast to the tenderness he had earlier exhibited. her eyes, once filled with lust, were now wide with a horror that seemed to freeze time itself. he applied pressure with a cold efficiency, the life gradually ebbing from her eyes as she struggled against the relentless force of his grip. he watched impassively as the light in her eyes dimmed, her struggles growing weaker until her body went limp. the transition from desire to demise was abrupt, the room falling into a stifling silence as she dropped dead at his feet.

with her lifeless body at his feet, namjoon remained calm, his expression a mask of unperturbed satisfaction. he removed his phone from his pocket with the same grace he had shown throughout the evening, his fingers moving with practiced precision. dialing a number, he spoke into the phone with a voice that was as cool and collected as ever. “the job’s finished,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the passionate persona he had so masterfully projected moments before. the efficiency of his actions, the seamless transition from charm to ruthlessness, underscored the true extent of his dangerous allure. kim namjoon was a master of manipulation, his beauty and charm just facets of a more profound and deadly artistry.

the morning sun cast a golden haze across the room, its rays filtering through the gauzy curtains and illuminating the opulent space in a soft, ethereal glow. you sat gracefully at the edge of a lavish, velvet-clad armchair, a picture of effortless sophistication. in your hand, you held a glass of deep, ruby-red wine, the liquid swirling gently as you lifted it to your lips. the wine’s rich aroma filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of your perfume—a heady blend of jasmine and sandalwood.

there was a certain serenity in the ritual of your morning indulgence, despite the gnawing presence of alcohol's creeping dependence. the wine had become both a sanctuary and a torment, a paradoxical solace that masked the terror of its increasing hold over you. each sip was a delicate escape from the relentless pressure of your world, a brief respite before the day's demands unfolded.

as you savored the wine, your phone buzzed on the polished marble table beside you. the sharp, insistent sound shattered the tranquil cocoon you had wrapped yourself in. with a graceful motion, you reached for the device, your fingers curling around it with a practiced ease. the screen lit up with the name of your boss, and a flicker of tension passed through you.

you answered the call, your voice steady and composed despite the slight edge of apprehension that had begun to surface. “yes?” you intoned, your tone smooth but alert. the voice on the other end was cold, the authority it wielded palpable even through the phone. “listen closely,” she commanded, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken threats. “we have a high-priority target for you today. this isn’t just any assignment. you’re to eliminate kim namjoon.”

the name hit you with an unexpected force, a jolt that made you sit up straighter. you had heard whispers about him, tales spun in dark corners and hushed conversations, but it all seemed like distant lore—stories of a man who was, in your mind, nothing more than an intriguing footnote. now, the reality of the task set before you was both startling and intensely personal. “kim namjoon?” you repeated, your voice a blend of disbelief and challenge. the name rolled off your tongue, testing the weight of its significance. “i’ve heard of him. he’s part of a rival team, correct?”

“correct,” she affirmed, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “he's a significant player, a dangerous one. this job requires precision. you must understand the risks. he’s not to be underestimated. we need this done cleanly and without trace. his elimination will shift the balance in our favor.” the intensity of her words sharpened the focus of the task ahead. the air around you seemed to thicken with the gravity of the assignment, the warmth of the wine now mingling with a cool edge of determination. the threat posed by namjoon wasn’t just about personal rivalry; it was a crucial move in a broader, more intricate game.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle upon your shoulders. your resolve hardened, the initial disbelief melting into a fierce, unwavering determination. “i understand,” you said, your voice resolute. “i assure you, the job will be finished in no time.” with that, the call ended, leaving you with the echo of her command and the impending challenge that loomed large in your mind. you set the wine glass down, its contents reflecting the slivers of sunlight that now seemed to pierce through your calm exterior. the stakes had been set, the target identified, and the path forward was clear.

kim namjoon would be your next conquest, a puzzle to be solved with the precision and finesse that defined your craft. the thrill of the hunt coursed through you, blending with the calm confidence you had cultivated over countless assignments. the morning’s tranquility had dissipated, replaced by a focused intensity that sharpened your every sense. the game was on, and you were ready to meet it head-on.

the morning sun peeked through the narrow gap in the curtains, casting a hazy light that filtered through the cluttered room. namjoon sat at the small kitchen table, cradling a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. the rich aroma of the brew was a stark contrast to the disarray that surrounded him. his gaze was fixed on the scene before him—his disheveled roommate sprawled across the couch, the telltale signs of a wild night evident in the scattered cans of alcohol and the faint scent of stale beer that clung to the air.

namjoon’s distaste for alcohol was well-known, a preference rooted in the queasiness it induced rather than any moral stance. to him, the presence of the empty cans was a nauseating reminder of indulgences he avoided. he turned his attention back to the comforting warmth of his coffee, seeking solace in its steady, untroubled existence. the silence of the morning was abruptly broken by the shrill ring of his phone, an intrusion that jolted him from his thoughts. he glanced at his roommate, ensuring that the phone’s call wouldn’t disturb his friend’s slumber. with a deft motion, he picked up the phone, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he answered.

the voice on the other end was as sharp and commanding as ever. “namjoon, good morning,” his boss greeted, the tone both professional and serious. “i trust you’re ready for the next assignment?” he nodded, even though his boss couldn’t see him. “of course,” he replied, his voice steady and attentive. “what’s the task?”

there was a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation, before his boss continued. “today’s assignment is likely the hardest one you’ve faced. we’ve come across a particularly elusive target. her name is (y/n) (l/n), and she’s not just any case. she’s known for her lethal precision and cunning. the stories you’ve heard about her are not mere rumors; they’re a testament to her skills.”

the gravity of the warning was palpable, and namjoon’s interest was piqued. he had heard fragmented stories about a woman of your reputation, a figure shrouded in intrigue and danger. he had never expected his path would cross with someone like you, nor had he anticipated the challenge this would present. “understood,” he said, his tone taking on a determined edge. “i’m aware of her reputation. if she’s as formidable as you say, i’ll handle it with the utmost care. rest assured, i’ll eliminate her with the precision and efficiency expected.”

the conversation concluded with a sense of mutual understanding and resolve. namjoon ended the call, his mind already strategizing the best approach to the task at hand. he looked once more at his roommate, who remained oblivious to the gravity of the conversation that had just transpired. with his coffee in hand and a newfound determination, he prepared himself for the day. the sight of the alcohol-strewn room and the hungover state of his friend were now just background noise, eclipsed by the seriousness of the mission ahead. the challenge posed by you—an enigmatic and dangerous opponent—was about to become the focal point of his day, a test of his skills and resolve that would push him to his limits.

you entered the coffee shop, the soft hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you in a warm embrace. the morning light streamed through the large windows, casting a serene glow over the rustic wooden tables and mismatched chairs. as you walked to the counter, your mind buzzed with tactical considerations, strategizing the most effective approach to handling the formidable kim namjoon. the complexities of the task at hand melded with your thoughts, each possibility and scenario swirling in your head like the delicate patterns in your latte.

you placed your order with a casual ease, the barista’s polite nods and friendly banter barely registering as you were lost in contemplation. when you finally settled into a corner booth, the quiet rustle of newspapers and the clinking of cups provided a backdrop to your musings. men around the café couldn't help but steal glances in your direction, their eyes lingering with a mix of admiration and intrigue. you were accustomed to such attention, a mere side effect of the aura you carried, but it never failed to draw your awareness.

as you were absorbed in your thoughts, a voice interrupted the solitude of your reflection. “must be tiring, isn’t it? getting looks like that all the time?” the voice was warm and smooth, laced with a hint of curiosity. you turned your head to find a man standing by your table, a friendly smile playing on his lips. he had an air of casual confidence, his demeanor effortless and disarming. you couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed to effortlessly attract the gaze of those around him, much like you did. offering him a measured smile, you replied, “it seems like you’re no stranger to stares yourself,” gesturing toward the group of women who were openly admiring him from across the room.

he laughed softly, a sound that was both genuine and charming. “true enough,” he said with a shrug. “but it’s something i’ve chosen to ignore.” you tilted your head slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “would you like to join me? it looks like most of the other seats are taken.” without hesitation, he accepted your offer and slid into the seat across from you. As he settled in, he extended his hand with a graceful flourish.

“i’m kim namjoon,” he introduced himself, his voice steady and inviting. a chill ran down your spine as the name registered, a shockwave of realization coursing through you. was it fate? you fought to maintain your composure, your face draining of color as you processed the situation. with a controlled breath, you extended your own hand and offered a smile. “i’m (y/n) (l/n). it’s nice to meet you, namjoon.”

his eyes widened imperceptibly, a moment of surprise flickering across his face before he masked it with a practiced ease. you were even more striking than he had imagined from the stories he had heard—an ethereal beauty that exceeded every expectation. his heart sank slightly, a sinking feeling that hinted at the gravity of the situation.

the two of you engaged in conversation, each of you carefully concealing your underlying tension. namjoon asked about your work, his curiosity piqued. you swallowed your nerves and fabricated a story, telling him that you worked in finance. his gaze remained steady, though the mention of your profession triggered an internal churn in his stomach. he responded with a lie of his own, claiming to work in business management—an elaborate deception. as the conversation flowed, punctuated by casual laughter and probing questions, you felt the delicate balance of this encounter shift. the façade of casual coffee talk masked the underlying intensity of your real interactions. with every exchange, you assessed his reactions, every nuance of his demeanor scrutinized as you navigated this unexpected encounter.

when the time felt right, you reached into your bag and pulled out a slip of paper, extending it toward him with a nonchalant air. “here’s my number. it would be nice to continue our conversation sometime.” he accepted the slip with a genuine smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of intrigue and admiration. “i’d like that,” he said warmly, his tone sincere. “i’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.”

with that, you gathered your things, the weight of the morning’s revelations settling heavily on your shoulders. as you stood and made your way to the door, his gaze followed you, a lingering reminder of the complex web you had just woven. the encounter had been more than mere chance; it was a delicate dance of deception and allure, setting the stage for the intricate game that lay ahead. the bell above the café door chimed softly as you exited, leaving behind the warm, inviting space and the enigmatic man who would soon become central to your plans. the city outside bustled with its usual rhythm, but within you, a storm of anticipation and calculation brewed, your path now irrevocably entwined with his.

you paced your room with a measured intensity, the rhythmic scuff of your heels against the floor mirroring the churn of your thoughts. the walls seemed to close in, laden with the weight of strategy and anticipation. every corner of the room held a potential plan, a calculated move in the intricate game you and namjoon were unwittingly playing. the persistent buzz of your phone interrupted your brooding. you glanced at the screen, recognizing namjoon’s name. with a composed breath, you answered. “hello?”

“hey, (y/n),” his voice came through with a casual warmth. “i was wondering if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch sometime today. or am i already being too clingy?” you couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that was as light as it was genuine. “i’d love to have lunch with you, namjoon. where do you want to go?”

he suggested a charming bistro not far from where you were staying, a place known for its elegant ambiance and exquisite cuisine. you agreed, and after hanging up, you turned your attention to your wardrobe. selecting a dress that clung to your curves with just the right balance of elegance and allure, you prepared to meet your unexpected lunch companion.

arriving at the bistro, you found him already seated at a table near the window, his gaze scanning the room with an anticipation that matched your own. when he saw you, his eyes widened slightly, a clear reaction to your striking appearance. the corner of his mouth lifted in a genuine smile that softened the usual sharpness of his features.

“wow,” he said as you approached, his voice tinged with admiration. “you look amazing.” you smiled, feeling a warm flush of pleasure. “thanks. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

you both settled into the cozy booth, the soft light of the bistro casting a flattering glow on both of you. the menu was soon presented, and you made a decision almost automatically. “should we start with a bottle of wine?” you suggested, the words flowing with casual ease. his demeanor shifted subtly, a fleeting shadow crossing his face as he flinched slightly at your choice. “actually,” he began, hesitating for a moment, “i’m not really fond of alcohol.”

your curiosity was piqued. “oh? why’s that?” he leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “my father was an alcoholic. it left a pretty negative impression on me. i avoid it whenever i can.”

you noted the pained edge in his voice, your own heart twisting in sympathy. “i’m sorry to hear that. let me get us a coffee instead. we can still enjoy a great meal without the wine.” namjoon’s smile brightened with genuine appreciation. “that sounds perfect. thank you.” you signaled the waiter and changed the order, opting for coffee instead. namjoon’s gratitude was evident in his appreciative nod, his eyes softening as he watched you.

the conversation flowed naturally, a gentle exchange about his father and the memories that lingered. “he was involved in some dangerous dealings,” he recounted. “the debts caught up with him, and eventually, it cost him his life. it’s a part of my past that’s hard to shake off.” you reached out, placing a comforting hand over his. “i’m truly sorry for your loss, namjoon. it must have been incredibly difficult.”

his gaze met yours, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability shining through. “thank you. it’s been a challenge, but i’ve managed to move forward. meeting someone like you today has been a nice distraction.” as the food arrived, he leaned forward to serve himself. in a moment of unanticipated clumsiness, his glass of water tipped precariously on the edge of the table. instinctively, you reached out with practiced precision, catching the glass before it could hit the floor. it fell into your grip with barely a sound.

his eyes widened as he watched the maneuver, a dawning realization of your skill and preparedness clear in his gaze. “you’re pretty adept at handling situations,” he commented, a note of surprise in his voice. you shrugged lightly, attempting to downplay the incident. “just a little bit of practice. nothing to worry about.”

with a playful smile, you encouraged him to continue enjoying the meal. as the conversation resumed, the initial tension between you seemed to ease, replaced by a genuine connection forged over shared stories and experiences. the food was delightful, and the time spent together was as pleasant as it was unexpected. both of you indulged in the meal, savoring each bite and drink as if it were a reprieve from the unspoken truths hovering just beneath the surface. the lunch was more than a simple meeting—it was an intricate dance of charm and deception, a prelude to the complexities that lay ahead.

as you and namjoon strolled back toward your place, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the natural rhythm of it making the day feel almost ordinary. the world seemed to hum in harmony, your laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the city, creating a brief respite from the tension that lurked beneath the surface.

however, as you approached a lamppost with a memorial photo attached, you felt a sudden jolt. the image on the pole was unmistakable—the face of the man you had eliminated the previous night. his eyes seemed to stare out from the photograph with a haunting, silent plea, and you shuddered involuntarily. namjoon, noticing your abrupt halt and the sudden pallor of your face, turned with concern. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

you swallowed hard, struggling to compose yourself. “i knew him,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “he was a friend.” his expression softened with empathy. “i'm sorry. that must be really tough.”

you offered him a shaky smile, appreciating his kindness. “thank you.” the two of you continued walking in contemplative silence until you reached your house. you turned to face namjoon, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm, genuine hug. it was a simple gesture, free from any ulterior motives, and as you held him close, you felt a fleeting connection that seemed both comforting and poignant.

his smile broadened as he returned the hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. “good night, (y/n),” he said softly. “i’ll see you soon.”

“good night, namjoon,” you replied, pulling away and watching him walk down the street with a bittersweet feeling.

as he made his way home, the streets began to fade into the distance, and he took out his phone. the sense of unease that had been bubbling beneath the surface now surfaced with a jolt. with a few swift taps, he brought up the details of the deceased man’s profile. his eyes widened in shock as he read the police report—the victim had been strangled to death with rope, and the case was eerily devoid of leads or footage.

his mind raced, the chilling realization of the situation dawning upon him. the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with unnerving clarity. he had just spent the afternoon with the very person who had carried out such a methodical and lethal act. the connection between you and the man on the pole was a stark revelation, and the weight of the truth settled heavily upon him. he shuddered, his thoughts spinning as he grappled with the realization of who you truly were—and what he now had to confront. the night seemed to grow darker and more foreboding as he walked, each step echoing the grim understanding that had just settled into his gut.

the next evening, you found yourself once again in the opulent embrace of the hotel. the grand ballroom, resplendent with its glimmering chandeliers and elaborate decor, was a far cry from the grim memories it held for you. the place where you had claimed your previous victim now seemed almost serene, its beauty contrasting starkly with the dark deeds that had unfolded within its walls. with practiced ease, you adjusted the earpiece nestled in your ear and connected with your boss. the cool, metallic voice of your superior resonated through the small device, crisp and unwavering.

“(y/n), are you in position?” the voice inquired. “yes,” you replied, your tone steady. “i'm monitoring the cctv feeds now. the hallways are clear, and namjoon should be arriving soon.”

“good. remember, we need to ensure the task is completed efficiently. keep your wits about you and stay focused.”

“understood,” you said, disconnecting the call and turning your attention back to the array of monitors before you. the security cameras provided a meticulous view of the hotel's layout, allowing you to track every movement with precision. your gaze was fixed on the entrance, waiting for namjoon’s arrival. when he finally appeared, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his striking features, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anticipation. he moved with a confident grace that only added to his allure, and you watched as he navigated through the crowd.

as soon as he entered the room, you swiftly disconnected from the monitoring feed, leaving the cameras to their own devices. you made your way through the throng of elegantly dressed guests, your heart beating with an unusual mixture of excitement and trepidation. “namjoon!” you called out, your smile warm as you approached him. he turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “hey, you look absolutely stunning.”

“thank you,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “should we head to the bar? i thought we might enjoy a drink.” the two of you made your way to the bar, the conversation flowing as naturally as it had the day before. you refrained from drinking, choosing instead to sip on sparkling water, a choice that did not go unnoticed by him. he observed you with a blend of admiration and curiosity.

“why no drinks tonight?” he asked, leaning closer to you, his voice a soft murmur. you met his gaze with a calm smile. “just a personal preference. i don't wanna drink in front of you.”

his heart swelled at your sincerity. “that’s admirable. i wish i had your self-control.”

after some time spent in pleasant conversation and gentle flirtation, you glanced at him with a knowing look. “if the noise gets too overwhelming, i’ve rented out a room here. we can escape the crowd if you’d like.” he seemed intrigued and a bit relieved. “that sounds like a great idea. lead the way.”

you guided him through the bustling crowd, the stares of other guests momentarily ignored as you made your way to the reserved room. the door closed behind you with a soft click, and an almost palpable shift occurred in the atmosphere. the room, dimly lit and serene, was a stark contrast to the lively chaos of the gala. as you stood there, his gaze was filled with a mix of awe and longing. without a word, he closed the distance between you, his eyes locked onto yours with a intensity that made your breath catch. he leaned in slowly, and you felt his lips brush against yours in a tentative, electrifying kiss.

you responded with equal fervor, your lips meeting his with a growing urgency. the kiss deepened, turning heated and passionate as the world outside seemed to fade away. his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as his lips moved with a fervent intensity. your fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him as the kiss became a fervent dance of desire and need.

his hands traveled to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and guiding you to the bed. you landed softly on the plush surface, your body arching slightly as namjoon followed, his lips never leaving yours. the bed beneath you was a luxurious expanse, and the sensation of his body pressing against yours was intoxicating.

his kisses trailed from your lips to your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he explored your skin. you moaned softly, the sound mingling with the rustling of fabric as he undressed you with a careful urgency. his touches were both tender and possessive, his desire evident in every caress. “you feel incredible,” he whispered between kisses, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “show me,” you breathed, your hands pulling him closer as the night unfolded in a passionate dance of exploration and desire. the world outside became a distant memory as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the intensity of your connection making every touch, every kiss, a thrilling and unforgettable experience.

his fingers traced the contours of your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a reverence that made you feel worshipped. his eyes, dark with lust, took in the sight of you laid bare before him. “so pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. you felt a rush of heat pool in your belly at his words, and you reached for him, eager to return the favor. your hands found the hem of his shirt, and with a quick tug, you pulled it over his head, revealing the firm planes of his chest.

his skin was warm and smooth under your fingertips, and you took a moment to appreciate the sculpted muscles and the faint scent of his cologne that lingered. your eyes traveled down to the waistband of his pants, and a devilish smile played on your lips. you bit your bottom lip, and with a seductive glance, began to unbuckle his belt. namjoon watched you, his pupils dilated with anticipation.

once his pants were discarded, you took in the full view of him, your eyes widening with desire. he was already hard, his arousal clear and prominent. you reached out, your hand lightly brushing against his length, and he hissed through gritted teeth. you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse in response to your touch. “fuck, you’re so big,” you said, a hint of wonder in your voice.

his hips rolled into your touch, and he groaned, his head falling back. “yeah, baby, just like that,” he encouraged, his voice low and strained. you stroked him slowly, savoring the feel of his skin, hot and velvety under your palm. “you’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. your heart raced as you felt the power of his desire in your grasp. “i want you so badly,” you admitted, your voice a breathy whisper.

his hand reached down to cup your cheek, pulling you back up for a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in your veins. you could feel his urgency, the need to claim you, to make you his in every way possible. your hand didn’t stop moving, but instead picked up the pace, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. “i need to be inside you,” he growled, his control slipping.

his words sent a bolt of excitement through you, and you nodded eagerly. he reached for a condom from the bedside drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with a practiced ease. the anticipation was palpable as he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. you took a deep breath, ready for the delicious stretch as he pushed inside you.

his first thrust was slow and deliberate, filling you completely. you gasped at the sensation, your nails digging into his shoulders. “fuck, yes,” you moaned, your back arching to meet him. he began to move, his rhythm steady and deep, his eyes never leaving yours. with each stroke, the pleasure built, your body responding to him in a symphony of sensation.

you matched his pace, lifting your hips to meet his every thrust. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans of pleasure. his grip on your hips tightened, his movements growing more forceful. “you’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice gruff with need.

you couldn’t help but let out a filthy response, the words rolling off your tongue with surprising ease. “i’ve been waiting for this all night. need you to fuck me hard, namjoon.” your words seemed to push him over the edge, and he obeyed, his hips driving into you with a newfound ferocity. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

his thrusts grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he approached climax. you felt your own orgasm building, your muscles clenching around him. “i’m gonna cum, baby,” he warned, his voice tight. you nodded, your eyes locked on his, and together, you fell over the edge, your bodies writhing in a delicious crescendo of pleasure. his release came, moans rolling off his tongue, and you felt yourself shatter around him, the intensity of your climax stealing your breath. for a moment, you were lost in the feeling, your bodies joined as one. as the waves of pleasure receded, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion.

when dawn’s first light filtered through the thin curtains, you awoke to the disorienting haze of reality. the hotel room, now bathed in soft morning light, seemed almost serene compared to the passionate chaos of the night before. you lay on the bed beside namjoon, his body sprawled in a relaxed, innocent slumber, entirely unaware of the dangerous path that had led to this moment.

the memories of last night crashed over you like a tumultuous wave. the intimate connection you had shared with him, the unexpected depth of your feelings, and the chaotic rush of desire—all of it felt like a vivid, intoxicating dream. but reality was a stark contrast. you had a mission, a job to complete, and the time for pleasure had long since passed. as you slowly and carefully disentangled yourself from his warm embrace, you glanced at him. he was completely vulnerable, his handsome face serene and peaceful, the picture of tranquility. it was then that you remembered the task that had been set before you: to eliminate him. you had let your guard down, and it could cost you dearly.

your hand instinctively reached under the pillow where you had left it the night before. your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. the sensation sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. your breath caught in your throat as you realized what you were holding—a gun. It was not your own; it was an unfamiliar weight that felt both foreign and foreboding. you pulled the gun from beneath the pillow, its cold metal a harsh reminder of the deadly precision required of your role. for a moment, your hand trembled around the grip. the thought of ending his life right then and there, of completing the mission with ruthless efficiency, was overpowering. his calm breathing, so close to you, only added to the intensity of the moment.

you aimed the gun at him, pressing it into his haie, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at him. every instinct told you to pull the trigger, to end it all quickly and cleanly. but as you tightened your grip, the weight of the decision pressed down on you with crushing force. anger and frustration surged within you. it was supposed to be a straightforward task, a mere job to be done. yet here you were, paralyzed by your own conflicted emotions.

the gun felt heavy in your hand, the responsibility of the act you were about to commit weighing down on you. you cursed under your breath, a raw, guttural sound that seemed to echo your inner turmoil. your eyes burned with unshed tears as you fought with the impulse to follow through with the assassination. the gun trembled in your grasp, your resolve wavering as the reality of what you were about to do loomed large.

in a fit of anger and desperation, you hastily shoved the gun back under the pillow, as though trying to hide the physical manifestation of your internal struggle. you shoved on your dress with frantic movements, your fingers fumbling with the fabric as if it were a shield against the overwhelming emotions crashing over you. without another glance at him, you fled the room. the hallway outside seemed unnervingly quiet, each step echoing with the weight of your decision. your breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as you made your way through the hotel, each step driven by the desperate need to escape the oppressive weight of your failure. the mission had become a tangle of conflicting desires and stark reality, and you were left with the knowledge that you had to confront both, no matter how painful it might be.

the morning had settled into a quiet, contemplative silence as you sank into your armchair, the soothing warmth of the wine mingling with the turmoil in your mind. the shower had washed away the remnants of the night, but it did little to cleanse the confusion and guilt swirling within you. your hair was pinned up, an effort to restore some semblance of order to the chaos you felt inside. the half-empty wine bottle on the table served as a silent testament to your attempts at solace.

as you took another sip, the doorbell’s chime shattered the solitude. your heart skipped a beat. the sound seemed to carry an unspoken promise of complication. you set your glass aside and padded to the door, bracing yourself for whatever awaited you on the other side.

opening the door revealed namjoon, his presence as strikingly composed as ever. his soft smile greeted you, its warmth contrasting sharply with the chill of your internal disarray. “i hope i’m not intruding,” he said, his voice smooth and gentle. you blinked, momentarily lost for words. “not at all,” you managed, stepping aside to let him in. as he crossed the threshold, his gaze fell upon the nearly empty wine bottle, its presence seeming to draw an involuntary frown from his lips.

“do you drink this often?” he inquired, a note of concern edging his tone. you offered a wan smile, trying to mask the discomfort brewing beneath the surface. “i drink as often as i can,” you admitted, trying to sound casual despite the tumult within you.

his eyes softened as he looked at you. “how about we lighten the mood a bit? any plans for today?” relief washed over you at his attempt to steer the conversation away from the wine. “actually, no plans at all,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope. “would you like some breakfast? i could use the company.”

his smile broadened, and he agreed readily. “i’d love that.” you led him to the kitchen, your heart racing with an unsettling mix of anxiety and anticipation. as you prepared breakfast, the knife felt heavier than usual in your hand. each slice through the vegetables seemed to echo with the weight of your thoughts. you clenched the knife tightly, struggling to maintain composure, but namjoon’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts.

“are you uncomfortable with what happened last night?” his question was gentle, but it carried an undertone of concern that only deepened your internal conflict. you tensed momentarily, the knife’s grip tightening in your hand. “no, not at all,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “what about you?”

his smile was reassuring, but it did little to ease the knot in your stomach. “i enjoyed it quite a bit,” he admitted, his eyes holding a glint of sincerity. his compliment, however genuine, did little to dissolve the worry gnawing at you. you could feel his gaze on you as you worked, his presence a constant reminder of the dangerous duality of your situation. yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you couldn’t help but appreciate his genuine demeanor.

as you plated the food, you made a conscious effort to push the wine bottle out of sight, its dark contents now a symbol of a past you wanted to distance yourself from. the wine in your glass met the sink’s drain, a small but significant act of cleansing. namjoon’s eyes widened slightly at the gesture, and he offered a look of quiet gratitude.

the breakfast was pleasant, if a bit tense. as you neared the end of the meal, an idea took shape. “would you be interested in going to the local fair with me?” you asked, trying to offer a distraction from the lingering unease. namjoon’s face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “that sounds like a great idea. i’d love to.”

as you finished clearing the table, the simple, shared activity brought a momentary respite from the tangled web of your thoughts. the fair, with its bright lights and cheerful bustle, seemed like a perfect escape—a chance to savor normalcy amidst the chaos. little did you know, the fair would bring its own set of revelations and challenges, testing the fragile truce you had established with yourself and with namjoon.

the fair was alive with vibrant hues and lively sounds, a kaleidoscope of lights and music weaving through the crisp evening air. the scent of popcorn and cotton candy mingled with the excitement of the crowd, creating a sensory tapestry that seemed to momentarily lift the weight from your shoulders. namjoon’s presence beside you was both comforting and disconcerting, a constant reminder of the complexity of your situation.

as you strolled past the myriad of stalls and attractions, his enthusiasm was infectious. his laughter rang out, mingling with the ambient noise of the fair, as he pointed out various games and food stands. “you have to try that one,” he said, gesturing toward a colorful stall where a shooting game was set up. curiosity piqued, you followed him to the stand. The game was simple: shoot a gun at moving targets to win a prize. the booth was adorned with bright lights and plush toys, each one more garish than the last. the carnival worker handed namjoon a toy gun with a grin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he took it with casual confidence.

his demeanor was relaxed, his face lit up with a childlike excitement as he aimed at the targets. the way his fingers wrapped around the gun was almost graceful, and you could see the focus in his eyes as he lined up each shot. goosebumps pricked your skin, an involuntary reaction to the intensity of the moment. the steady click of the gun punctuated the otherwise joyous cacophony of the fair. each shot he took was precise, hitting the center of the targets with unerring accuracy. his movements were fluid and practiced, a testament to his skill and composure. as he finished, he set the gun down with a satisfied nod, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

“you’re really good at that,” you commented, trying to mask the unease that had settled in your chest. his smile widened, and he reached over to collect his prize—a large, plush stuffed toy, its bright colors and oversized eyes almost comical. he turned to you, his expression a mix of pride and affection. “here,” he said, extending the toy toward you with a charming grin. “i think this is for you.”

your fingers brushed against his as you took the stuffed toy, and you could feel the warmth of his touch linger on your skin. the toy was soft and absurdly large, its beady eyes staring up at you with an innocent expression. despite the cheerful facade, you couldn’t shake the cold, creeping sensation that the toy represented something far more ominous.

you accepted it with a smile, but your mind was racing. the stuffed toy felt like a symbol, a reminder of the precarious balance between your roles as predator and prey. you stared at the toy, its bright, plush exterior now a stark contrast to the dark reality that lurked beneath the surface. his gaze lingered on you, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. “i thought it might make you smile,” he said, his voice tender. “do you like it?”

you forced a smile, nodding as you clutched the toy a little too tightly. “it’s very thoughtful,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. the toy seemed to loom larger in your hands, a reminder of the mission that still awaited you. you had promised yourself that you would finish what you had started, but in that moment, amidst the lights and laughter of the fair, you found it increasingly difficult to reconcile your feelings.

his expression remained hopeful, his gaze never wavering. “let’s walk around a bit more,” he suggested, seemingly oblivious to the internal battle raging within you. you nodded, trying to push your worries aside and focus on the present. as you continued to wander through the fair, the toy felt like a weight around your neck, a reminder of the danger and deception that hovered just beneath the surface of your seemingly normal day. the fair was a fleeting escape, a chance to revel in the illusion of normalcy, but the shadows of your true mission loomed ever closer, threatening to shatter the fragile peace you had managed to cultivate.

the two of you eventually found a bench situated beneath a canopy of fairy lights, their gentle glow casting a warm aura over the space. the bench offered a moment of respite from the sensory overload of the fair, and you both settled down, the lively sounds of the carnival muted by the small oasis of tranquility.

as you sat side by side, you watched the children running around with boundless energy, their laughter mingling with the distant music of the fair. the sight brought a soft smile to your lips, a fleeting sense of nostalgia for something you had longed for but never quite had. “i’ve always wanted to be a mother,” you admitted, your voice almost wistful as you watched the joyous chaos before you. “seeing these kids, it just makes me realize how much i’ve dreamed about it.”

namjoon turned his gaze from the playful scene to you, his eyes reflecting a genuine warmth. “i can’t imagine you not being a wonderful mother,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. “you have such a kind heart. i’m sure you’d be amazing at it.”

the compliment warmed you more than you expected, and you glanced at him with a tender smile. “thank you. that means a lot coming from you. what about you? have you ever thought about being a father?” namjoon’s eyes darkened slightly, a shadow of something deeper flickering across his features. he took a deep breath before responding. “yeah, i’ve thought about it. i always wanted to be a dad someday. i just don’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

you could sense the weight of his words, the way they tugged at his heart. “you’re nothing like him,” you assured him, your voice firm yet gentle. “i’ve seen how you are with people, how you handle things. you’re kind, thoughtful. you’re not defined by your father’s mistakes.”

a pang of vulnerability flashed across his face, and for a moment, he looked lost in thought. he managed a small, grateful smile, though it was tinged with sadness. “it’s hard not to feel like i’m stuck in his shadow sometimes,” he admitted. “but hearing you say that—it helps.” the sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache, and you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “you’re creating your own path, namjoon. you have your own values and your own way of being. don’t let his past define your future.”

his smile widened slightly, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him. “thank you. i guess i needed to hear that.” you both sat there for a moment, the carnival’s vibrant activity humming softly in the background. the connection between you felt genuine and poignant, the weight of your respective burdens momentarily lifted by shared understanding.

as the evening drew on and the lights of the fair glimmered around you, the conversation deepened, weaving a tapestry of hope and reflection amidst the backdrop of the carnival. the simple joys of the fair seemed to highlight the more profound truths you both were navigating, bringing a sense of clarity and closeness that neither of you had anticipated.

the evening had passed in a tranquil haze, and as you finally arrived home, the comforting stillness of your home seemed to envelop you. the echoes of laughter and joy from the fair faded behind you, leaving only the soft hum of your own thoughts.

you were in the midst of unwinding, removing your shoes and loosening your coat, when the sharp ring of your phone broke the serene quiet. the caller id displayed your boss's name, and a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. you answered, the line crackling with the unmistakable edge of frustration. “where have you been?” her voice cut through the air like a blade, its harshness bringing you back to the present with a jolt. “you were supposed to be focused. the mission isn't over. it’s crucial that you finish it.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the surge of guilt and urgency her words stirred. “i understand. i was preoccupied, but i’ll get back on track immediately.” the silence on the other end was brief but heavy, her displeasure palpable. “you have a job to do. this is not a game. you’re dealing with someone who’s as dangerous as they come. i need results, not distractions.”

with a firm sigh, you replied, “i’ll get it done. i promise.” the call ended abruptly, leaving you with a lingering sense of urgency. your gaze drifted to the drawer where you had carefully stored your weapon. with a mixture of resolve and trepidation, you walked over and pulled it open. your fingers closed around the cold, metal grip of the pistol, its weight a stark reminder of the gravity of your task.

you took a moment to steady your breathing, the echoes of the evening’s warmth fading into the background. the contrast between the peaceful day and the chilling reality of your mission was stark. As you clicked the safety off and checked the chamber, a steely determination took hold. tonight, you promised yourself, the job would be done. the warmth of your recent encounters would be set aside, replaced by the icy focus necessary to carry out your orders. the boundaries between personal and professional were blurred, but you had to navigate the dangerous dance with precision.

the night air was crisp and sharp as you approached his house, the weight of the pistol heavy in your hand. each step felt deliberate, every breath a careful measure against the storm of emotions swirling inside you. the street was quiet, shadows playing tricks in the moonlight as you neared the front door, which stood ajar. your heart raced as a chill of apprehension ran down your spine.

you hesitated, the open door a harbinger of foreboding. had he anticipated your arrival, or was something else afoot? the usual calm of his home felt eerie in its silence. you stepped inside, the creak of the floorboards loud in the stillness. you moved with practiced stealth, checking each room with growing trepidation. the soft murmurs you heard drew you upstairs, the sounds of struggle and muffled voices leading you to his bedroom.

the door was slightly open, and you pushed it gently, your pulse quickening. the sight that greeted you was one you hadn’t anticipated. the room was a disarray of empty beer cans, a stark contrast to the polished image you had seen earlier. namjoon was pinned against the wall, his roommate's hands wrapped around his throat in a desperate, violent struggle. the scene was raw, the tension palpable.

for a moment, you were frozen, shock and horror warring within you. but the urgency of the situation jolted you into action. with a swift, practiced movement, you pulled the pistol from your holster. the shot rang out, a sharp crack that cut through the chaos. the roommate crumpled to the floor, his body going limp as a bullet found its mark in his head. namjoon fell to his knees, gasping for breath, tears streaking down his face.

you rushed to his side, dropping to your knees beside him. “namjoon, are you okay? What happened?” your voice trembled with a mixture of fear and concern as you pulled him into your arms. hee clung to you, his sobs muffled against your shoulder. “he was an assassin,” he gasped between ragged breaths. “a part of a rival group. he came after me—and i couldn’t stop him.” his voice broke, the weight of his words pressing down heavily.

you looked around the room, the sea of empty beer cans now a grim symbol of his internal struggle. “what’s with all the beer cans?” you asked, trying to piece together the fragments of the night’s horror. namjoon swallowed hard, his voice strained. “he drank—a lot. the alcohol, it brought up old memories. bad ones,” he hesitated, a pained expression crossing his face. “i killed my own father, you know. it was me who took his life. the alcohol made him violent, it twisted his mind. i couldn’t stop it.”

the revelation hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you reeling. the man you had come to care for was entangled in a web of violence and guilt. you tried to offer comfort, your own shock mingling with the empathy you felt for him.

“did you know about me? about who i am?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. you nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze. “i did.”

he seemed to digest this, a troubled look crossing his face. “and i knew about you too. i left the gun under the pillow, to see if you would use it. when you didn’t, i knew you wouldn’t kill me.” the admission struck you hard. his confession left you feeling as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet. the intricate dance of deceit and truth that had bound you both seemed to unravel in an instant. your heart pounded painfully in your chest as you grappled with the realization.

despite the turmoil inside you, holding him in your arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, felt strangely precious. the notion of completing your mission seemed to fade in the face of his vulnerability. you tried to fight it, but the connection you felt was undeniable. his presence, despite everything, seemed more valuable than the task at hand.

as you held him close, the night’s darkness seemed to swirl around you, a reminder of the tangled, violent path that had brought you together. in the midst of the chaos, one thing was clear: the boundaries between duty and desire had blurred, leaving you both grappling with the consequences of a night that had irrevocably changed everything.

you held him close, the weight of the night crashing down on you as you tried to steady your racing heart. his tears mingled with yours as the gravity of your shared truths settled around you. his face was flushed, eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and sorrow as he clung to you.

in a moment of aching tenderness, you cupped his face gently, your fingers trembling. you leaned in, pressing a soft, bittersweet kiss to his lips. the kiss was delicate, a fleeting touch that conveyed a world of regret and unspoken emotions. the taste of his lips lingered, a painful reminder of everything that had led to this moment.

tears streamed down your cheeks, the sorrow overwhelming. you pulled back, the anguish in your eyes mirrored in his own. “i’m so sorry, namjoon,” you whispered through your sobs. “i’m so sorry.”

his confusion deepened, the words you spoke only adding to the turmoil. as you stood up, a fresh resolve hardened in your chest. with shaking hands, you pulled the gun from your side, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your tears. you raised it slowly, pressing the barrel to his forehead. his eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as he stared up at you.

but you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. you turned away, the enormity of your actions crashing over you like a relentless wave. your fingers tightened around the trigger, the weight of your decision feeling unbearable. the muffled sound of the gunshot echoed in the small room, reverberating through your very soul. the finality of it struck you hard, and you stumbled backward, feeling as though your heart was being wrenched from your chest.

standing amidst the wreckage of your emotions, you fumbled for your phone. with a final, heavy sigh, you dialed your boss's number, each ring a jarring reminder of the mission that had led to this. the call connected, and your voice was shaky but resolute.

“it’s done,” you said quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “the job’s finished.”

✧.*

a/n: this hurt to write omg if yall want a happy ending lmk bc...

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roukabi · 2 years

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if you're still into hadestown id love to hear more details of act II in your broadway x nytw au :)

OHHH ANON DEAREST....... YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY INFODUMP CARD!

ok ok first of all i am so sorry for my incessant videnoirposting, rest assured i am still very very into hadestown and I Will become normal again! and i have a backlog of ht-related art to finish lol.

Second.... BOY OH BOY DO I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY NYTW x BWAY AU!

(for the uninitiated: for the longest time i've had this nytw x broadway au, called the “Old Song” au, in which nytw orpheus becomes a very sad ghost and haunts the present (broadway) orpheus. Meanwhile, nytw Eurydice and bway Eurydice find each other in Hadestown and try to help each other 'survive'. I’d recommend reading the first part, otherwise the rest of this post won’t make much sense. I'll drop the link in a rb.)

(And I'm putting this under a readmore, because this is gonna get long.)

Now there are a few things I forgot to mention in that post, one of them being what this whole AU is actually about. Greek tragedy says that, despite what we (the audience) desire and what we understand, the characters will still fail. And that's alright. Life goes on, sometimes for the better. It's awful, but it's not the end.

In this AU, we're past having the characters try and fail. And y’know, it wasn't the end for them, either! Their failures mattered then, and they will now! Orpheus and Eurydice's futures will still go on whether they want them to or not!

But... because they are worlds apart, with (seemingly) no other way of reuniting and having the happy ending they desired... does that leave any hope for either of them?

This leads me to another theme of Hadestown, and the one I'm focusing on in this AU: despite everything, there will always be hope. It might take a while to see it, but it's always gonna be there. And how this AU is gonna work out is that we'll see this hope manifest in some characters (bway Orpheus, nytw Eurydice), how the lack of hope manifests in others (nytw Orpheus, bway Eurydice), and how all of that is subject to change as the characters grow. Somehow, though, they'll all have to cling onto that hope - that struggling dream of a better future - if they want to finally build a better life.

enough cringe talk about themes let's get some found family in this house

Soo.... Act II! I'm gonna start a bit ahead, where the first post left off: the Orphei are traversing the underground, and nytw Eurydice is giving bway Eurydice refuge.

Anyway, where we last left off, the Orphei have made it to the underworld! bway Orpheus kind of broke the Wall, which nytw Orph (nicknamed Ghost in this AU to make things easier, and to let nytw Orph distance himself from his past life) takes as good sign. If he can get past the wall like that by singin' a little tune, then the rest of the journey will be a cinch!

...It was not, in fact, a cinch.

Everything in Hadestown is Really loud, Really bright, and Really unfriendly to trespassers. Bway Orpheus gets overwhelmed very quickly and nytw Orph gets frustrated - he knows this place already, and also knows that strolling in during daytime hours is a one-way ticket to death (see Hermes's advice in Wait for Me).

They end up hiding in some abandoned worker cabin for the rest of the day, a rather unproductive start to their journey.

It's not helping matters that the Orphei had quite the argument back during Chant - nytw Orpheus got after bway Orpheus for not helping Eurydice, and it got to the point where he deliberately tried to break bway Orpheus's optimism so that he'd "wake up" and "finally try to be useful"... yes he was projecting, no it was not fun, yes it is still eating at him, and Yes, their relationship is... pretty strained right now. As if bway Orpheus's self-esteem wasn't already garbage.

This isn't the case for the Eurydices though! They're chilling in the house nytw Eurydice borrowed from Persephone + are escaping work quotas. The bad news is that they're content with sharing a name, which is kind of frustrating to try and write. Oh well!

Anyway, bway Eurydice finds it nice to have someone who actually understands her. Not that Orpheus wasn't understanding, he really, really, was, but he just didn't see the world the way she did. And nytw Eurydice can talk to someone who hasn't lost their head to the mines + machines! So yeah they hit it off real fast.

Eventually, though, bway Eurydice asks how the other managed to get stuck in Hadestown for so long. Nytw Eurydice stiffens. Frowns a bit. She stares at the floor for a beat or two before telling her that she doesn't know. Forgot.

She does know. She knows that it could probably happen to bway Eurydice, too, given all their similarities. But she's not going to be the one to break this new girl's spirit.

It's a vow that nytw Eurydice makes around the same time nytw Orpheus does, too. bway Orpheus isn't sleeping, and whether it's the noise outside the cabin walls, or the sneering voices in his head, nytw Orph doesn't really want to know.

That poor kid. He'd been nothing but kind to nytw Orpheus, trying to make his (after)life more bearable, a little more colorful - and nytw Orpheus had the gall to tear him down. He wouldn't have dared to hurt him if he were his old self.

It's just that bway Orpheus doesn't know how the world really is. Hadestown was cruel, and its brainwashed people wouldn't stop at hunting him down. Hades wouldn't let Eurydice go - not without an impossible price to pay. Nytw Orpheus didn't want to crush his successor's hopes by telling him all that.

And yet, he kind of... did.

Damn it.

He’s got to be better toward that boy. For both their sakes.

The nytw duo realizes that, despite what happened to them before, they can’t let it interfere with the future of the bway duo. There’s still a chance for things to turn out, and after all, they aren’t the ones with something to lose.

However, not everyone in this story has this mindset. There’s still one more thing I really forgot to mention in the last post...

Because of her appearance in both NYTW and Broadway Hadestown, Jessie Shelton’s fate, Clotho, is here to add even more conflict! What about her sisters? uhhhhhhhh don’t worry about it lol they’re fine. She’s with the bway Lachesis and Atropos, but this is likely to change.

Clotho’s not pleased with the trajectory of this story. It was her job to keep it from changing, and now her #1 enemies are coming around to throw wrenches in her plans? Well. If she’s going to clean up the messes they’re making, she might as well have fun with it.

Clotho ends up terrorizing all four heroes, but really the bway duo, and mostly bway Orpheus because in the end, it's his actions that will determine the outcome of the story. The nytw duo is Very Much Not Happy with Clotho’s existence and they get very protective of their counterparts whenever she shows up.

bway Orph tries really hard to guard nytw Orph from her, knowing their history and all. It doesn’t really work, but he tries!

(Clotho does, at one point, threaten to kill bway Orph if the Orphei continue their journey. Remember this.)

The Eurydices learn more about each other the more questions bway Eurydice asks - Do you think your Orpheus is looking for you? Is he down here? Will everyone forget about me, too? Different words, all asking the same thing: Is there a chance for me to get out of here?

bway Eurydice tries not to show it, but she’s scared. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into, and she’s desperate for a ray of hope.

Nytw Eurydice tries her best to reassure her, but sometimes she just can’t answer.

bway Eurydice does ask if the other workers could break free of Hadestown’s brainwashing. Nytw Eurydice thinks it’s possible.

Meanwhile, the Orphei have taken to sleeping during the day and moving at night - to keep from getting caught. bway Orpheus isn’t handling this well, nor is he handling the constant overstimulation, the paranoia of being an ‘outlaw’, all the pain and horrors inflicted on Hadestown’s people, Clotho being Clotho, etc., and one night he just... breaks down. He never thought the world could be this cruel.

Luckily for him, though, a certain someone who understands exactly what he’s going through sits down with him. Lets him vent. Gives him a hug.

Nytw Orpheus finally apologizes to the boy for his distance, and convinces him that not everything is awful; they have each other, and the very reason Nytw Orpheus is down with him is that he cares about bway Orph and wants to protect him.

It’s here that bway Orpheus starts to smile again.

From that night on, things are a little better. Sure, all the terrible things mentioned 4 bullet points ago still exist, but now the Orphei are joking between one another, collaborating on songs, and climbing the petrified trees scattering Hadestown’s landscape.

And for the Eurydices, life-after-death is getting... almost bearable?! Nytw Eurydice made the other a notebook of all her surface memories, just in case, and it’s not like either of them stopped singing. They’ll go out and check if one of their Orphei is out there. Sometimes they’ll just talk for hours about whatever the Memory of the Day is.

For the first time in decades, there's a sound so sweet and clear against the echoes of steel on stone: laughter is heard in the realm of Hades.

A month or two pass, and neither party has found the other. It’s around this time when the bway duo wonders about their companion’s past.

It’s a topic that sickens the nytw duo, but they figure it’s time to talk about what happened. Time to show where all these mental - and in some cases, physical - scars came from.

After nytw Orpheus turned, Eurydice was almost immediately offered sanctuary by Persephone, who took pity on her. Eurydice took it, as long as she didn’t have to see Hades ever again.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t upset with Orpheus. She was actually pretty bitter about him for months, before she came to terms with how powerless they both were in that situation.

However, time wore on, and the mini-revolution Eurydice + Orpheus created fell further into obscurity. Less workers remembered what happened that fateful night. And then, to Eurydice’s dread, not even the gods knew who she was anymore. Afraid of losing herself, Eurydice hid by herself most of the time, alone with her memories in the old goddess’s house. At least without Hades knowing her, she couldn’t be tracked.

For Orpheus... well, he definitely didn’t receive a hero’s welcome upon returning to the surface. Wholly blamed for the loss of his wife, Orpheus, too, hid himself from the public. His relationship with Hermes soured as he pressured the poet to move on. It wasn’t just a shift in the people, either - in the rare times when Orpheus played music, his songs were so sorrowful that nature herself turned gray, and wept. Believing the change in Orpheus to be a curse, the townspeople banished him. Not that Orpheus had any time to grieve - he had brought upon himself the fury of the Maenads, whose courtship he refused. They slaughtered him by the river and threw his bones into the current. (Hermes found them, but never told Eurydice.) Orpheus woke up as a ghost, stuck on the surface with his guitar. No longer could he be seen, heard, or touched by mortals. Not that they’d want to find him, anyway, Orpheus thinks.

All four members of this Songbird Quartet are in tears by the time the tales are told.

It’s also worth mentioning that both nytw Orpheus and Eurydice conveniently left out the part where Orpheus turns.

It’s also also worth mentioning that nytw Orpheus takes off his red jacket for the first time since death, letting bway Orph see the extent of the Maenad’s brutality.

The strangest thing happened to the nytw duo, though: things started getting much better for them once the bway duo came into their lives. Orpheus is finding his hope again and Eurydice has found meaning in her afterlife. Through the tragedy, something good did happen.

(... uh, little side note: I really hope y’all are catching on that the relationships between Orphei and Eurydices... are platonic in a brother/sister sense. I mean, I can’t stop you from shipping them, i guess, but romance isn’t what I’m aiming for... that’s all.)

A n y w a y , what ho! After months of searching, bway Orpheus gets the biggest smile on his face upon seeing his beloved Eurydice creeping through metal stacks surrounding Hades’s mansion (it’s work hours). The Orphei agree to split up for a bit: bway Orpheus reunites with Eurydice, while nytw Orph makes a quick last look for his own lover.

He travels a little far, and then farther, getting increasingly desperate. Where is she? Was he never meant to find her? Is she on the other side of Hadestown? Where is she now?

Panic and heartache spark in his chest and he starts to call her name into the expanse.

“...Orpheus?”

The voice is from behind. Orpheus won’t dare turn around. Not again.

She knows this. She knows his posture, too, and the shape of his hands - which are shaking. She comes up to his side and takes one before facing him. Tears are already spilling over his cheeks.

“It’s you.”

Tears threaten to spill on Eurydice’s cheeks, too.

“It’s me.”

yayyyy they’re together again! it’s really sappy and they keep apologizing to each other for everything. It’s a little sad when Eurydice puts a hand on Orpheus’s scarred face but that’s neither here nor there.

But woe! the happy reunion is cut short when a loud, booming voice shakes the songbirds’ cores:

“Young man!”

Eeeheeeheheeehee

the nytw duo, realizing that their sibling is now in Huge Danger, rush to Hades’s mansion. There stand a stricken bway Orpheus, a dreading bway Eurydice, Persephone, Hades, Hermes, workers... and the Fates.

There’s a moment of “woah everyone’s here” as the Songbird Quartet recognizes one another.

Hades and Persephone don’t recognize nytw Orph, which is great for some reasons and terrible for others.

Hades tells bway Orph that Eurydice can’t go back - she signed the deal, and sold her soul. Orpheus, horrified, looks at her, and Hades... and nytw Orph, who was too afraid to tell him.

Nytw Eurydice, on the other hand, stares down Clotho with a ‘what the fuck do you want’ look. Clotho just smiles.

Hey, so, remember when I told you that Clotho threatened to kill bway Orpheus if they kept looking for Eurydice? Well.........

Hades calls upon the workers to drive bway Orpheus out. Unfortunately, though, Clotho has also given them the order to kill. Her word isn’t questioned: If Fate wishes it, then it shall be so, after all.

Clotho + her sisters nab bway Eurydice. Two workers restrain nytw Orpheus, who, while not knowing what exactly will happen to bway Orph, can deduct from Clotho’s threat that it won’t be good, and begs Hades to spare the boy. Nytw Eurydice, still wearing worker clothes and remaining undetected, sneaks out of the fuss and creeps behind the mansion (if we are thinking of the stage setup, where everyone is kind of in a circle, the nytw duo are on the opposite side from where the Fates + bway Eurydice are).

Workers circle bway Orpheus, and he gives nytw Orpheus one last terrified look before the first strike lands.

Now, we all know nytw Orpheus as a guy who’d have no problem throwing hands during Papers. Except this Orpheus has been ruined by his past, and freezes up when he sees the mob attack bway Orpheus. There are screams in his ears that aren’t there, the smell of metal, blood and wine, and a thousand terrible scenes in his head. It’s too much for him to watch.

...But the very reason nytw Orpheus is down here is because he cares about his newfound brother and wants to protect him. It was the one thing he promised to do.

So god damn, what was he doing?

Something snaps in him and he tries once again to wrestle his arms away from the workers holding him back. They don’t budge - nytw Orpheus’s strength is his words, not his muscles.

But then a low thud sounds against nytw Orpheus’s ears, and the hold goes loose.

“Go!” cries nytw Eurydice, wielding a shovel and slamming its head against the other worker’s. “I’ll get Eurydice!”

nytw Orpheus gives a quick nod of thanks to his lover before rushing up to bway Orpheus, grabbing a pickaxe on the way.

Bway Orpheus has tried to flee the pack, but they keep catching him and throwing him down. He’s exhausted, he’s injured, and they aren’t letting up. One of the workers - the largest one in the mob - raises a pick. Orpheus can’t get himself off the ground.

Then there’s a flash of red, a scream, a metallic smell.

bway Orpheus dares to open his eyes and sees that the mob has stopped, paralyzed with shock. The worker who held the pick now clutched his arm instead, pressing against a long, gruesome tear in the skin.

And standing in front of him, a pickaxe in his hands and a wild, cold glare that’s stark against his bloodied face - is Orpheus’s brother.

A couple steps behind the mob are the Eurydices, and one of them still has her shovel. Nytw Orpheus shouts at the workers, telling them to back off (in a much ruder way). The workers, seeing the outcome of fighting these three, retreat.

Nytw Orpheus, chest heaving, drops the pickaxe and carefully steps over bway Orpheus so that he is behind the latter. He gently scoops the boy into his arms. He’s blacked out, but he’s still got a pulse, thank the gods.

Now, while nytw Eurydice did do what she said she would (free Eurydice), that doesn’t mean she got rid of the fates. And of course, Clotho appears.

Nytw Eurydice somehow keeps enough composure to not beat the shit out of her with a rusty shovel. She gives Clotho enough time for her to say that while, yes, the initial murder plan was foiled by our heroic rulebreakers, the damage has already been done. bway Orpheus has been told that his lover sold herself to Hades, and on top of that, the people who could’ve been his friends on the surface nearly killed him in Hadestown. It’s not like this was a sudden effect - Orpheus’s worldview started crumbling the minute he entered Hadestown. This was just the last step. Now with that sweet, sweet doubt in his head, things should go back to normal.

bway Eurydice is quite shaken by this - it’s her story, too. So nytw Eurydice swings her shovel a bit to get her to fuck off. Clotho does. (I like to think that the Fates can appear + disappear in a plume of dark smoke. Just a lil thing that’d look cool in animation.)

The three of them kinda. stare at each other for a bit.

They take bway Orph to nytw Eurydice’s house to patch him up and rest. Nytw Orpheus washes the blood from his face, and there’s a distant look in his eyes as he recovers from what he did. bway Eurydice, who’s a smidge intimidated by him, says she thought he was pretty cool back there. It gets nytw Orpheus to laugh just the slightest bit, and thus, a friendship is born.

Nytw Eurydice and Orpheus take some time to catch each other up on what happened to them while bway Eurydice looks after her Orpheus.

He wakes up after some hours, a little worried, but with Eurydice there he settles down. She jogs his memory of what happened.

He starts venting to her, apologizing profusely for putting everyone in this mess and placing all their hopes on a song he couldn’t finish. Nothing Eurydice says can comfort him.

Unfortunately, Clotho was right: bway Orpheus is shattered. He goes on about how he is at fault, not just for Eurydice’s imprisonment in Hadestown, but for forcing nytw Orpheus to re-live his trauma to save him, and putting nytw Eurydice back on Hades’s hitlist. He’s hopeless, he says. This whole journey is hopeless. And because he’s the one to blame, he’s better off leaving.

He tries to leave Hadestown, despite the other three trying to get him to stop, but there’s another force keeping him from going too far: the workers. They’ve been listening to his plight, and they feel their old humanity come back to them at his sorrowful song (If It’s True).

Orpheus looks at his family, then looks back at the workers. Perhaps he did do something good for these people. Perhaps there’s still a chance for them.

Hermes comes up to the quartet, bearing news (it’s kind of his thing): Hades has also heard what the workers are starting to whisper about - a possible revolt against Hadestown’s cold-hearted structure - and demands for the four of them to come to his mansion. It’s judgment time.

Nytw Orpheus, who is bitter toward Hermes, demands to know why he didn’t help bway Orpheus since he was a god. Hermes, unfazed, asks why he couldn’t prevent the mob from attacking bway Orpheus, if he’d already lived Orpheus’s life. This quiets nytw Orpheus’s anger.

At the mansion, Hades tries to intimidate bway Orpheus before he actually passes judgment, though a very aggressive nytw Orpheus protects the other. Not today, Hades!

Persephone gives the Eurydices a bit of advice - maybe a mix of the London and NYTW Seph verses for Chant II - as she, too, heard the poet’s song.

The Fates are also there, watching. Plotting, probably.

Finally, Hades gives bway Orpheus his task: Sing a pretty song, and perhaps Hades will make use of him and spare his family. If he fails, it’s to the Great Beyond for all of them.

bway Orph is shaking like an autumn leaf. He’s not done with his song. It never worked the way he wanted it to. He’d tried to get nytw Orpheus to help him with it, but he’d refused, saying that if the song were really special, it would’ve come straight from bway Orpheus’s heart.

From the heart. Okay. That’s what Orpheus will do.

And to make a long story short, it works. beautifully. Orpheus sings his song of love and it swells as everyone else joins in. It’s like the heart of Hadestown is glowing.

At the end, Hades remembers his love for Persephone. He remembers his humanity. The old gods dance as if they were young lovers again.

And Orpheus just about blacks out again from cathartic relief. (Side note: I like to think that nytw Orph says something along the lines of “Easy there, rockstar!” I know the term won’t come around until the 60s but I think it’s really cute :))

Well, things seem to be going alright now! Hades isn’t as Bent on Harming the Four, Persephone’s smiling again, the workers are getting hopeful, and our four songbirds are together now.

... Except, a look of unease haunts the nytw duo’s faces. They know what comes next after this. So does Clotho. The song wasn’t the real test, as we all know.

bway Orph asks if they can go, Hades says no, blah blah blah we've been here before.

Hermes tells the four (well, mainly the bway duo) of the task ahead. They are, of course, dumbfounded and frightened by what it entails. They look back at their older siblings, wordlessly asking, “did you know?”

Nytw Orpheus and Eurydice look away.

The bway duo demands them to tell the full truth of how they were separated. So they do. They tell their doomed successors that nytw Orpheus failed to bring them both out, and that the chances of it happening again are high. It’s completely up to the new duo, and the nytw duo didn’t want to talk of it out of fear of crushing their hopes.

The bway duo is... not pleased. They’re not just crushed, they’re betrayed. How could the nytw duo lie to them for so long, lead them down this path just to pull the rug out from under them?

Nytw Orpheus reaches out to bway Orpheus, but the latter backs away, and leaves them. Bway Eurydice just shakes her head. She leaves them, too.

That night, when the four are preparing for the journey out, bway Eurydice finds her lover cupping his carnation in his palms. They talk quietly about the trek ahead, and Eurydice tells Orpheus that, even though their predecessors failed, that doesn’t mean they will, too. For what it’s worth, said predecessors didn’t have dead companions to travel with. And if the nytw duo were able to change (for the better) because of the bway duo’s actions, then maybe their ending could, too. “If they could do it, so can we.”

Orpheus smiles, but his doubts still gnaw at him. What if their actions changed the outcome for the worse? He just wanted everyone to be safe and happy, but what if this night’s events shouldn’t have happened the way they did? Especially with Clotho’s plan unraveling faster than ever, did they really make all the right decisions? Could he put faith in himself, or was everything that the townspeople said up top, about the harshness of the world and all, really true?

Speaking of Clotho, she appears once more to nytw Eurydice. Eurydice snaps at her for putting everyone on the road to ruin, but Clotho merely states that she’s not the only one trying to get what she wants. Like it or not, everyone had a part to play. “This story of ours was your doing, too,” she says. “Now you finish it. I’m just helping it move along.”

As Clotho departs, Eurydice finds that statement... oddly comforting. If bway Orpheus just holds onto the hope he’d always had with him, then maybe... just maybe...

It’s a long night, and it’s a little odd with two somewhat estranged couples sharing a house. Eventually, they all decide to try and make amends in the tiny living room. Apologizing, conversing softly about their fears and hopes, curling up together on the surprisingly large worn couch. bway Orpheus lets his brother hug him.

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” nytw Orpheus whispers. “And I have so much faith in you nonetheless.”

They sleep together on the couch that night. Lovers, brothers, and sisters say “I love you”. Hell, friends do, too, why not. There’s an air of peace in the stony caverns of Hadestown, and it’s enough to bring the four to a restful sleep.

They’ll need it for the journey ahead.

And, then, that morning, they set out, and...

OHHH, GEE! Look at how long this got! Gee whizz, look at the time, too! I think it’s time to stop. We’ll leave the thrilling conclusion for another time!

Thanks a billion for the ask, anon, and thanks a lot to you, reader, if you actually got this far! I don’t write much, but when I do, I get really into it...

There’s some stuff in Act I of this AU I still haven’t talked about - mostly silly fluff between the brothers, fluff between the sisters, some angst between the brothers, orphydice fluff, and nytw Orph’s strained relationship with the new Hermes, but again, that’s for another time.

#OOOOAGHGH maybe notn didn't give me carpal tunnel but writing this sure did!#this was so much fun tho. i got so excited when i read the ask bc that's a Thing I'm Really Passionate About!#I've been refining it for years! no i don't like letting old ideas go lol #hadestown #hadestown au #hadestown broadway #hadestown nytw #orpheus #eurydice #orpheus hadestown #eurydice hadestown #nytw x broadway crossover #old song au #rook roars!#long post #rook's mailbox #also sorry if i misinterpreted all the characters. i promise bway orph is still sweet n loveable it's just that (class) war is hell #caps tw

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