*The sound of that slap still lives in my head. It echoes. Sharp. Disrespectful. Possessive in the worst way. Your brother — my best friend since childhood — raised his hand to you like you were nothing more than an inconvenience in his empire. And I stood there. For half a second. Half a second too long, until my lips curved in a proud smirk as you returned the favor. Then something inside me snapped. I didn’t even hear the rest of the argument. Property. Contracts. Conditions. Control. He spoke about you like you were an asset to be transferred.* “If she finds a husband within a week, I’ll return what’s rightfully hers.” *A week. He thought no one would step up. He thought no one would dare. He forgot one thing. I have loved you since I was sixteen. I still remember the first time I slid that ring into my pocket. Too big for you. Too early for us. But I kept it anyway. A stupid boy’s promise to himself. If I ever get the chance. And then he handed me the chance on a silver platter. So I took it. I didn’t ask you. I didn’t hesitate. I stood in front of him, in front of everyone, and claimed you.* **My wife.** *The look on his face when I said it? Worth every bruise I’d ever taken for him growing up. Because I wasn’t his friend anymore. I was your husband. And I would burn the world before letting anyone raise a hand to you again—* **One and a half years later, we don’t just survive. We rule.** *You in black — sharp, commanding, terrifyingly beautiful — sitting at the head of meetings that once excluded you. The empire that was denied to you now bends to your decisions. And I stand beside you. Not in front. Not above. Beside. They think I married you for power. They don’t see the way I look at you when you’re not watching. They don’t see how my chest swells when you speak with that calm authority. They don’t see how I memorize the curve of your smile after you win an argument. Tonight, you wore black again.* “Black suits you,” *I whispered, because I can’t help myself around you. You smiled. And that was enough to ruin me for the rest of the night. I slept like an idiot afterward. Grinning into my pillow like a love-sick teenager. My wife. My wife.* ___________________ *But today. Today you noticed. I was pouring a drink, sleeves rolled up, trying to act normal. And then your eyes dropped to my hand. The ring. The engraving. Your initial. You stepped closer. Too close. I felt it — that shift in the air when your mind starts connecting dots. You asked about it. Said it wasn’t there before. My throat went dry. I’ve faced boardrooms. Lawsuits. Your brother’s threats. None of it rattled me. But you noticing that tiny letter carved inside my ring? That terrified me.* “I… I um—” *Brilliant, Harry. Real smooth. I cleared my throat, forcing a steadier tone.* “It’s my name’s initial too.” *Lie. Pathetic lie. I sighed, looking away for half a second because if I held your gaze I’d confess everything.* “Coincidence, wife.” *God, I love calling you that.* “Tradition. I have to follow them too. You know.” *My pulse was hammering. Because that ring? It wasn’t tradition. It was a sixteen-year-old boy carving your initial into a cheap band with a trembling hand. It was years of watching you from across rooms, pretending you were just my best friend’s little sister. It was every time you laughed, and I had to look away so no one saw it on my face. You think this marriage was strategy. You think it was revenge. You think I stepped in to save your inheritance. And I did. But that’s not the whole truth. The truth is— I’ve been waiting to call you my wife long before your brother gave me permission. And if you ever find out? If you ever realize I would have chosen you even without the empire, without the condition, without the deal?* "Get ready. We have a dinner to attend. That includes facing our families. Especially your brother." *I don’t know what scares me more. You walking away. Or you staying. But I know I can wait. Wait until you turn around and really look. At me.*

}.. But I got it, just a little mistake. I don't need help with it, but thanks for your help anyway...~ *Whatever she's trying to do has to stop, it's cringing you out. Meanwhile Suzuri thinks she's doing a good job at giving you hints. You sigh to yourself, knowing this days gonna be long with how she's suddenly acting. The day goes by, she gets weirder and weirder. Even getting grabby and touchy whenever she interacts with you. Then when you confront her she tries to play it off saying you're just being paranoid and that you need to calm down. Anyway, while walking back home you notice her following from behind. You look back but she just shrugs.* **Suzuri:** What? I'm just walking home, we both live next to each other in apartment rooms, remember? *Yeah, she lives next to you, sometimes coming over and judging how you live. You do live kind of crappy though. Sometimes you'll have pillows everywhere, unwashed dishes, clothes everywhere around your room. Trash everywhere, etc. So every now and then, she'll walk in and get to cleaning everything. She want's to show you she's clean and " Responsible. " Yeah, she's clean and keeps her apartment clean but she's too aesthetic, often posting almost everything in her house on social media. You find it annoying but find it funny sometimes, you just don't wanna admit it. She says she bought a fake id, forcing you to go to the beer store with her to buy of course, beer. When done, you shake your head in disapproval as she tells you to just trust her. She brings her makeup to your bathroom, getting everything ready. Once done, she and tells you to come with her to the store. You guys walk in, buying 4 bottles before showing the cashier the id then walking out. Once you guys arrive back home, she gives you 2 bottles for her, 2 for you. You both drink as much as you both can, already going through the first bottle, then going on to the second, starting to not feeling good. You both slump to the floor, groaning for a while and not able to move. Before you guys can get up, you both instantly fall asleep, snoring loudly. A few hours later, she wakes up in the middle of the night, half asleep and drunk. She drags you to your bedroom, then fell asleep. Now, it's now 8:00 AM on a Saturday. You wake up, drunk when you suddenly notice Suzuri asleep across from you. Making you startle, nearly falling out of bed. She gets up, scratching her head, confused.* **Suzuri:** Fucking hell, my head... What happened? Also why am I here...? I thought I went *Hiccup* Home... And calm down, it's not that serious... Must be... Surprised because you... Finally slept with a girl... Doesn't matter though... *Hiccup* Cause you-you will still.. always be... a LONER, ha... I'm so drunk... And my stomach hurts... *She lays back down, you luckily didn't drink as much, not wanting to get as drunk as she was. So you're the one who has to deal with this now. You should probably bring her to the bathroom before she throws up everywhere, she already looks pretty sick.* **Objective:** Bring her to the bathroom, quick.

} It's 9:00 PM what the f~ck are you still doing on the games?" *She turns it off, you look back at her with slight anger as she scoffs, taking your controller also.* "Oh, don't give me that attitude... I'm only doing this b-because I care for you alright..." *She starts blushing heavily, looking away and fanning herself, the room suddenly looks smaller.* "Shut up..." *She then slowly starts moving towards the door, ready to make a run for it.* "J-Just go to bed, okay!" *She slams the door, speed-walking away before you hear a soft whisper.* "Damn it that was so unprofessional of me..."

}?" she says, her voice laced with a cautious, trembling optimism.

Oh, hey, what brings you here?

(The I.M.P. office is usually a chaotic mess, but today it was actually peaceful. You were just finishing a file when the sound of splintering wood and a high-pitched snarl echoes through the hallway. The main door hits the opposite wall with a deafening CRACK, and a cloud of dust settles to reveal a silhouette that looks terrifyingly familiar, yet far more dangerous than your boss.) (Barbie Wire stalks into the room, her heavy boots thudding on the carpet. Her tattered black clothes are stained with fresh grime, and her ram-like horns seem to vibrate with the sheer force of her anger. She looks around the empty office, her tail spade cutting through the air like a knife. When she realizes Blitzo isn't there, she lets out a scream of pure, unadulterated frustration that rattles the windows.) "THAT BASTARD! THAT ABSOLUTE, cθck-SUCKING PIECE OF CIRCUS TRASH!" (She swings a heavy lead pipe, smashing a nearby water cooler and sending a spray of liquid across the floor. She turns her gaze toward you, her yellow eyes glowing with a feral, hateful light. She stalks toward your desk, her movements a blur of athletic grace and murderous intent.) (She slams her hands onto your desk, leaning forward so far you can smell the gunpowder and cheap whiskey on her breath. Her spade-tail curls around the leg of your chair, anchoring you in place. She sneers, her sharp teeth bared in a jagged grin.) "Well, well... what have we here? A little office pet? A fresh piece of meat for my brother's pathetic excuse for a business? Tell me, 'colleague,' where the f~ck is he? Where’s that pathetic, star-searching failure of a brother of mine hiding? I swear on our mother’s ashes, if you lie to me, I’m gonna use that stapler to pin your tongue to the ceiling." (She reaches out with a gloved hand, grabbing your collar and pulling you roughly forward until your nose is inches from her skull-marked forehead. Her voice drops to a dangerous, vibrating whisper.) "I’ve had a really, really bad day, sugar. I lost a shipment, I’ve got a bounty on my head, and now I find out my 'dear brother' is playing assassin in the city. You’re gonna tell me exactly where he went, or I’m gonna start taking this office apart... and I’m gonna start with your limbs. So, are you gonna be a smart little imp and talk? Or do I have to get creative?"

*The music is too loud. It always is. Another one of those uh..what you call it..frat parties that I got invited to. Of course. I lean back against the kitchen counter like I own the place, red plastic cup loose in my hand, music rattling through the walls and straight into my bones. The bass is too loud, the lights are too dim, and the air smells like cheap alcohol and something sweet burning—but it’s perfect. This is where I’m supposed to be. This is who I’m supposed to be. People orbit me without me trying. They always do. A girl laughs too hard at something I didn’t really say, her hand sliding up my arm like she’s testing the heat of a stove she’s already been warned about. A guy nudges in on my other side, smirking, offering a drink I don’t need. I give them both just enough—just enough attention, just enough charm, just enough danger—to keep them hooked without ever letting them think they’ve got me. That’s the trick. I’ve heard what they say. Hell, I’ve made sure they say it. Don’t get too close to him. He’s trouble. He’ll ruin you. They’re not wrong. I tilt my head back, taking a slow sip, eyes half-lidded as I scan the room out of habit more than interest. Faces blur together—familiar, forgettable, replaceable. It’s all noise. Until it isn’t. Until I see you. It’s not dramatic at first. No lightning bolt, no sudden silence. Just… a shift. Like something in me misfires. You’re not trying to be seen. That’s the first thing I notice. You’re off to the side, not hiding, just… existing. Like the chaos of the party bends around you instead of pulling you in. And for a second, I don’t get it. I’ve built my whole world on people wanting to be noticed. So why does it feel like you’re the only real thing in the room. The girl beside me says something—something f1irty, something easy—and I nod at the wrong time, my attention already gone. My gaze drifts back to you like it’s got a mind of its own. You don’t look impressed. Not by me, not by any of this. That should make this easier. It doesn’t. I push off the counter before I can think too hard about it, weaving through bodies and half-heard conversations. Someone calls my name—I ignore it. Someone grabs my sleeve—I slip out of their grip without breaking stride. I don’t chase people. I definitely don’t need to. So explain why I’m crossing a crowded room for someone who hasn’t even looked my way twice. When I get close enough, I slow down. I glance at you, really look this time, and there’s something in your expression I can’t quite pin down. Not judgment. Not curiosity. Just… awareness. Like you see more than you’re letting on. I hate that I don’t know what to do with that. So I fall back on what I do best. I tilt my head, let a crooked smile pull at my mouth, voice low enough that you have to pay attention if you want to hear me.* “Y’know,” *I say, like we’re already in the middle of a conversation,* “this is the part where you’re supposed to pretend you don’t know who I am.” *There’s a beat. Just one. And for the first time all night, I’m not completely sure how this is going to go. Weirdly… I don’t hate that.*

The sun filters through the canopy in warm, golden shafts, highlighting a beautiful elf kneeling in a small clearing. She looks up as you approach, her emerald eyes wide with what appears to be relief. "Oh, thank heavens," she breathes, her voice like honey. "I’ve twisted my ankle, and the shadows are getting so long. Could you come closer? I just need a hand to stand up..." She reaches out, but as you step into the light, you notice the flowers beneath her knees are turning black and shriveling.

So… this is the mortal I was sent to judge. *Her voice is soft, but it carries the weight of something ancient.* Kneel… or prove you deserve to stand. *The trial has begun.*

*As the two of you step out of the damp alleyway and into the neon glow of the main street—a bustling stretch near a 24-hour "Mr. Smoothy"—the atmosphere shifts. Beni is walking beside you, her thumb hooked into her belt loop, her Mark IV gauntlet humming with a low, rhythmic green light that matches the pulse of the city's signs. She’s a magnet for attention. Her athletic, hourglass silhouette is highlighted by the streetlights, and her confident, rhythmic stride draws eyes from every corner. She’s mid-sentence, laughing at a joke she just made, her piercing green eyes crinkling at the corners, when a group of three guys leaning against a customized muscle car go silent. They’ve clearly been watching her for a long time* *As you and Beni approach the curb, the tallest of the group—a guy in a leather jacket with a "tough guy" scowl—steps forward, intentionally cutting off your path. His two friends flank him, their eyes darting between Beni’s striking features and you.* "Hey, Beni," *the leader says, his voice a forced gravelly baritone. He ignores you entirely at first, his gaze lingering on the sharp lines of her jaw and the way her messy chestnut hair catches the neon pink of the diner sign.* "We were wondering when the 'Hero of Bellwood' was gonna show up tonight. We had a spot saved for you." *Beni stops, her lopsided smirk barely twitching. She doesn't look intimidated; she looks like she’s watching a very slow-motion train wreck.* "Sorry, Jax. Already got company tonight. Maybe try again when you learn how to park that compensator-mobile of yours without hitting the curb." *The guy’s face flushes a deep red. He finally turns his attention to you, his expression shifting into one of pure, jealous irritation. He steps into your personal space, his shadow looming over you.* "And who’s this?" *he sneers, his hand coming up to rest heavily on your shoulder—a clear power move. He leans in close so only you can hear him, but the threat is unmistakable.* "Listen, kid. You’re punching way above your weight class. Beni doesn't hang out with nobodies like you. She likes guys who can actually... handle things." *One of his friends chimes in, crossing his arms and eyeing you up and down.* "Yeah, Bellwood's a dangerous place for a tourist. You might find yourself in another alleyway, and next time, maybe she won't be there to pull your hair out of the fire. Best to just walk away while your legs still work, right?" *Beni doesn't jump in immediately. She leans back against a lamp post, crossing her arms over her toned, athletic core. The pose emphasizes the sculpted curves of her shoulders and her calm, "hard to ignore" presence. She’s watching you, her emerald eyes sparking with a mix of amusement and a little worry* "What are you gonna do?" *challenge.* *She taps the face of the Sleek-Link gauntlet on her wrist. A small, holographic green interface flickers to life, casting a sharp glow over her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and that faint, rebellious scar on her brow.* "You guys are embarrassing yourselves," *she says, her voice cool and dangerous. She looks at the hand on your shoulder.* "Jax, I’d take that hand off him. If he doesn't break it, I might decide to let the Omnitrix 'accidentally' calibrate on your toes. And trust me, Cannonbolt is heavy this time of year." *The leader flinches, his grip on your shoulder tightening for a second before he slowly pulls away, sensing the real heat behind her words.* "We're just looking out for him, Beni," *Jax mumbles, stepping back toward his car but keeping his eyes locked on you with a look of pure envy. "Just a friendly warning."*