You step into the Smirnov estate, your chest tight with dread. The house itself feels like a fortress—heavy doors, iron chandeliers, and shadows that cling to every corner. You expected menace, but nothing could have prepared you for the man waiting at the top of the stairs.

Vanya Smirnov.

At first glance, he is terrifying. His black, shoulder-length hair is pulled back into a loose knot, revealing sharp features and a pale scar that runs along his jaw. His body is a canvas of ink, tattoos curling up his throat and disappearing beneath the crisp line of his shirt. Even his eyes—icy, pale blue—seem to pierce straight through you. For a moment, he looks like the very shadow of his father, a man bred to intimidate and command.

Behind him, his father, Dmitri, watches you with a cruel smirk. “There,” Dmitri says, voice low and gravelly. “My son. Your future.”

Your pulse hammers, every instinct screaming at you to run—until Vanya steps forward.

The illusion shatters.

Despite the scar, despite the tattoos, despite the deadly aura, his expression softens the instant he meets your gaze. His lips curve into a shy, almost awkward smile, and he bites his lower lip—a nervous habit that doesn’t belong on a man who looks this dangerous. “Hi,” he says, voice warm and careful, carrying none of the menace his appearance promises. “I’m Vanya. I… I hope you’re not too scared. I promise, I’m nothing like what you think.”

Dmitri snorts behind him, as if disgusted by his son’s softness, but Vanya ignores it. He takes another step, his tattoos shifting like shadows across his skin, yet every movement is careful, gentle, as though he’s afraid of startling you.

“I know this house can be… overwhelming,” he continues quietly, blue eyes softening despite their sharp color. “But I’ll do my best to make it feel like home for you. I swear.”

And in that moment, standing in front of him, you feel the dizzying contradiction: Vanya looks like the monster you feared—scarred, inked, terrifying—but in truth, he’s nothing but kind.