#but it should be because who else gets away with anything????

[hotshotsxyz]

8x01 coda

(buddie adjacent) (784 words) spoilers ahead, read at your own risk!

A little peroxide, a little elbow grease, and the engine bay should be good as new. Five minutes, ten max, except Buck’s been scrubbing for twenty and the fucking stain won’t come up. He kind of wants to scream.

There’s blood soaked into the concrete and blood on his hands and it’s ugly and red and Buck needs it to be gone. He pours more peroxide and watches it foam.

It’s too goddamn quiet in here. The construction’s stopped, obviously, and Hen took the station out of service so no alarm will take its place. No one’s yelling, no one’s commiserating, no one’s vacuuming the fucking upholstery.

Nausea wraps itself around Buck’s organs. A hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps.

“Buck,” Eddie says, quiet, too fucking quiet.

Buck scrubs at the stain.

“Look at me,” Eddie says, kneeling beside him.

He can’t. He fucking can’t because the stain is still there.

Eddie grabs his wrist. “Buck,” he says again, forceful and a little loud.

Buck drops the sponge and whips around. “What?” he asks. It comes out flatter than he thought it would, drenched in something like apathy.

“You can stop,” Eddie says.

“No,” Buck says, shaking his head. “You know what he’ll do if this is here when he gets back?” He gestures at the stain. He can’t even say his name.

Eddie’s hand tightens around his wrist. “Let someone else give it a try,” he says gently.

Buck knows when he’s being fucking handled. He wrenches his wrist from Eddie’s grasp. Eddie grabs his shoulder instead.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says quietly.

A humorless bark of laughter escapes Buck’s throat. “Yeah, no, I just killed a guy. Totally fine.”

“He’s not dead,” Eddie argues.

“Yet.”

Eddie takes a long breath. “He’s not dead,” he repeats. “And even if that changes—”

“What,” Buck interrupts. “It won’t be my fault? It kind of fucking is.”

Eddie shakes his head minutely. “If that changes it’ll be the universe or whatever.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You don’t believe in the universe,” he says.

“No,” Eddie acknowledges. “But I believe in what I can see. And what I saw was you risking your life to save his. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Buck swallows harshly and rocks back on his heels. “For—for a second I—”

“What?” Eddie prompts.

“I was—I wasn’t happy, but I—Eddie, I didn’t care,” Buck says finally. He drops the rest of the way to the floor and pulls his knees to his chest.

Eddie blows out a short puff of air and settles next to Buck. “I’m still not sure I do,” he says, tilting his head to catch Buck’s eyes.

“You don’t have to care,” Buck says. “He’s awful to you, and you’re not the one who killed him.”

“Still not dead,” Eddie reminds him. “And he’s awful to you too. He was in the middle of yelling at you when you saved his life.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s not,” Eddie agrees.

Buck bites his lip. “Have you…” he trails off.

“Ever killed someone?” Eddie guesses.

“You don’t—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Buck stammers.

Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s. “I don’t know,” he says, “not for sure.”

Buck frowns.

“I’ve shot at people,” Eddie continues. “Hit a few. I don’t know if any of them died. I’ll never know.”

“How do you deal with that?”

Eddie levels him with a flat gaze. “Buck. I’m in so much therapy.”

It startles a laugh out of him. “Eds I’m serious,” Buck says.

“I am too,” Eddie replies. “And either way, it’s different. You didn’t kill him.”

“He still might—”

“Buck.” Eddie looks away slightly and shakes his head. “Even if he dies, all you did was change what killed him. You gave him a fighting chance, it’s more than he would’ve given you.”

Buck scrubs at his eyes as they begin to sting. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You talk to me,” Eddie says, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a good person, I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”

A single tear escapes Buck’s lash line. “Yeah?” he asks, watery and rough.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he stands and holds a hand out to Buck. “Come on,” he says. “Brass says we can go home. You’re coming with me.”

Buck takes Eddie’s hand and allows him to pull him to his feet, leaving the sponge and the stain exactly where they are. “Okay,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats.

There’s blood on Buck’s hands. Eddie takes him to the shower room to wash it off.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋmy first, my last, my everything ୭ৎ ིྀ

pairing: exmafia!bakugo x reader

summary: katsuki left that life behind for you. but when the life you two built from scratch together was threatened, what else could he do but go back?

tags: fem!reader, wife!reader, mafia mentions, violence, angst to comfort, cursing, blood, pet names, no quirk au!, threats, guns, mention of death, clingy katsuki

(a/n: there's a tornado and like hurricane outside i should be preparing but ill write insteadd. anyways this is just the first part of.. tbh idk how many parts, probably 2 or 3 total lmk if anyone wants to be taggedd)

wc:~2.5k

katsuki had been around blood for most of his life.

whether it was his own, or a bastard who he had to handle for his own, he'd grew comfortable to it. almost intolerant to it.

but seeing you, freaking out with a bullet in your shoulder, your blood spilled over the floors he'd taken you to pick out?

it was something he never prepared for.

glass was shattered, he ran to your side immediately. the hot flash of pain in your arm unbearable, even more so as he pressed down on it, his shirt now ripped as he had to keep the blood from pouring.

your wails echoed throughout the shop, the one you decorated and planned for months together.

he needed to call someone, anyone. you were bleeding and he needed the kit-- but it was too far.

he was failing you. you were crying and he was failing you.

he was shaking, "babe? fuck. stay awake." everything around him was mocking him. his phone being too far, everything was just out of his grasp. out of his control.

he couldn't get up and leave you, if he let up the pressure you could die in the minute it'd take for him to set up.

he always failed you in the end. this was all his fault.

until, kaminari and kirishima walked in, about to yell out and bug katsuki for some food like usual. "yo bro! what's--"

the sight in front of them was one they never expected to see. katsuki almost crushing your arm with pressure, your blood all over the place. the front of house ruined.

it was enough for them to jump into action. katsuki holding you still as kirishima worked to get the bullet out of your arm. kaminari throwing the medkit over from where katsuki had it stored in a shelf. it had barely missed an artery, you were a milimeter away from death.

honestly, they hadn't liked you for a while. before meeting you they only saw you as the woman who was taking one of their best friends away from them. from their own.

but they learned that you only wanted the best for him, so you'd all become close. they learned how katsuki made this choice because he wanted better life for the two of you.

how he was growing sick of the repeated bloodshed that never amounted to anything. how his heart ached at the sight of you crying over his wounds, his black eyes and knife cuts embedded in his skin.

how he vowed to himself that before he'd ever propose to you, that he'd tie up all loose ends with his group, before he knew he could fully dedicate himself to you.

and he did.

nobody couldve ever imagined that they'd be here, kaminari working to keep you calm, helping regulate your breaths. you were freaking out, and that wasn't good for the extreme amount of blood you were losing.

katsuki would be forever grateful for them. he didn't know what he'd do if they weren't here, if you had died in his arms.

your screams were haunting, but at least you were alive. they finally died down into groans of pain when the bullet was out and the fabric was tied tightly around your shoulder.

your shirt was bloodied, his hands were too. he picked you up and mindlessly followed the two into a car that they must of called when he wasn't listening.

back to his old life he went. his eyes were sharp and angry, his hand gripping yours tightly, his finger over your pulse.

he had frozen up. and that could've costed you your life.

your eyes were half-lidded, but open.

only the noise of the road was heard throughout the car. he was the only one in the back, holding you in his arms as he faced straight ahead. he didn't think he could handle looking at you right now.

"'suki?" you said, so quietly the thumping of the road almost completely blocked it out.

but he heard you, he always did. "don't waste your energy. we're almost there."

you nodded, squeezing tighter. your eyes stuck on his bloodied shirt.

you were immediately rushed to the medical wing, the old woman dubbed 'recovery girl' taking you into her care. "she'll be fine, young man. she was lucky. they missed." she scurried off behind the operation team, who had immediately taken her into surgery.

those words carried only a bit of comfort for him. he was guided back to the meeting room, the one he'd been in several times before. the one he took brutal beat downs just to get out of.

but he was back, and it was for you. the same reason why he left.

he stared back at his old blood. deku had taken over for all might a couple years back, so he stood at the head of the table waiting for the rest of them settled in.

he wore a soft face of sympathy. "go change." deku finally said, handing him a pair of spare clothes. "we'll wait for you. you look like.. crap."

"to say the least." katsuki muttered, before accepting the clothes and going to where he knew the old bathroom was.

he washed his hands of your blood, but he knew it'd never really leave. he had stained your life, put you in danger for something as fragile as love. you could've died today, for the only reason of you being connected to him.

he changed, emptying the tattered shirt and slacks into the garbage. he didn't want anything to do with them anymore.

after splashing his face with some water, he headed back to the room.

every old face was there waiting for him, some with understanding small smiles.

he sat next to kirishima, arms crossed as he looked to the head.

"kacchan." deku started. "you, you aren't seriously thinking of coming back, are you?"

all eyes were on him, his body tense. "of course i am. i'm going to find the dumbfuck who did this and bury them."

"but you're not one of us anymore." todoroki cut in. "you left, if you come back it's like you did all that for nothing."

"you can never truly leave though, if you think about it." iida replied before katsuki had a chance. "this is just proof of it. even though he worked so hard to get rid of the connections to us, she still ended up targeted."

"and by an ally no less."

"a what?" katsuki said, his hand slamming on the table. "repeat that shit to me scarface?"

"it's not confirmed yet--"

"don't lie midoriya, it's obvious from the bullet. even the color is mocking us." todoroki said, sliding a bag across the table, over to katsuki.

a bright purple bullet was in it. it was bigger than he remembered, a 12.7 mmx99. it took up almost the entirety of his hand. whoever shot this really had wanted to kill you.

but it couldn't be...

"..shinsou?"

"that's who it points to."

"but. it doesn't make sense. your wife was close friends with him, and we haven't had bad relations with '2 Block' for decades!" midoriya reasoned.

"that doesn't change the fact there was a bullet in her arm." katsuki grumbled, moving it around in his hand. he slammed it back down onto the table.

"wow bakugo, if you couldn't pick up on that, i don't think you should be working this operation." kaminari said, a hand behind his head.

"shinsou wouldn't have missed. she'd be dead the second he aimed for her. you should know that."

silence enveloped the room. kaminari was right, if he didn't pick up on that, he was rusty.

his eye twitched. "i fuckin' knew that dumbass."

"you have personal stake in this, we get it. but you'll end up dead if you keep thinking with your shit attitude." kaminari responded.

"he has a point kacchan. why don't you let us handle it, and you can--"

"no."

he silenced them all with that single word. a face of sincerity and vulnerability he barely wore present in that moment. "i have to do this. i can't sleep at night if i don't. you guys of all people should understand."

a collective silence came over the room. they didn't say anything, but they knew if this had happened to them they'd want back in too.

they knew midoriya had the final say though, so they wished for his opinion.

"fine. but youre not doing this alone. we'll all get in on this. you were one of our best before, im sure all might would agree."

everyone nodded in agreement, saying some variation of 'if you say so'.

kirishima patted katsuki on the back. "hey man, our duos back again!"

"only for this mission though."

"aw man."

"we start tomorrow, so fix yourselves up. i have a feeling we'll be traveling around some tomorrow." midoriya ordered. "dismissed."

everyone poured out, katsuki walking directly to the medicine ward. he passed by the hallways, the pictures representing the allyship between them and the several surrounding gangs mocking as he walked by.

it all felt so familiar, it had only been a year. not much had changed, except for the atmosphere that he brought along with him.

he finally made it to the ward, looking past all the rooms. 'lets see, torture room.. cell.. no she'd be here.' he thought before walking into a hallway.

there he found only one room with a light on. he was right, he looked in to see you, fast asleep with bandages wrapped around your arm.

'at least you were safe', he sighed. jumping slightly when 'recovery girl' started speaking to him. "you did well, a moment later and she'd be dead. don't beat yourself up young man."

a moment passed between them, her words resonating in his mind. he'd done all that he could doz

"you can go wait inside, just don't wake her. there should be a spare bed you can pull out."

and with that, she left.

he walked inside, pulled out the bed and held your hand as he slept. the guilt never dissipated, it was all his fault. and so he'd have to fix it.

he woke up to the feeling of you moving. he'd been on edge the whole night, so the feeling of your hand jerking out of his woke him up immediately.

"katsuki." you said, sounding so tired and confused it broke his heart a bit.

" 'm here." he hugged you quickly, being mindful of the wound in your arm. a desperate, tearful kiss shared between you.

you took his face into your hands, making him stare into your eyes.

"i was so scared, you don't even know." you said nervously. "i thought i was gonna die."

katsuki held you tighter, still so disappointed with himself for even letting you get to that point. he felt like he should've taken the shot. that he should be the one injured right now, but instead he leaned in closer to you. "i was too, but you're here now. safe. with me."

"mhm."

you held him for a bit longer, looking at the room surrounding you.

while he was thinking of the possibilities that could've happened, his one wrong step from you could've left him all alone, you examined the room.

it wasn't a regular hospital, probably not a hospital at all. you knew that from the guns laying on the counters. the stitches all around ready for work, the empty body bags that were bloodied. mocking as they hung from the ceiling.

the windows, all reinforced heavily. the door that had a bolt lock on it.

you didn't get to feel relieved for long. "katsuki. be honest with me."

he tensed up, he knew you'd find out eventually. but he wanted to finish this mess before you ever knew about it. "always am."

"are you.. back in this?" you asked, looking into his eyes with an anxious expression. your hands clinging to his sides.

he sighed heavily. "y'know i have to. i'll never relax if i know that fucker is still out there. he could come back and.. and hurt you again."

"and i can't change your mind about this?"

"...no. it's for.. for us. i wouldn't have left if i didn't care for you, you know that."

"i do."

"then.. just-- wait for me okay? i won't leave 'til later today."

you nodded, laying your head in his chest. "if you get hurt too i think ill die."

"i won't get hurt."

"you promise?"

"i swear."

you leaned in and pecked another kiss on his lips. though you were interrupted by kirishima walking in.

"oops, i really should've knocke-"

"yeah you should've dumbass."

"hi kiri!" you waved, shoving katsuki off of you. "hey [name]!"

katsuki had one arm around you, squinting seemingly annoyed at his partner annoying his wife.

the topic would randomly change from shows you were watching, to fun things that have happened recently, but it took a deep turn into what had just happened to you.

"so, [name]. you heard bakugo's hanging with us for a while, right?"

"yeah, i did." you said, holding him just a bit closer subconsciously.

"so, did he tell you who we think did it?"

"shut the fuck up kir--"

"you already know?" your attention was on him fully. the look in your eyes revealing just how much you wanted answers. "well, it's just a guess for no--"

"shut up kirishima."

"but we think it's shinsou."

your face twisted in confusion. "shinsou?...

no, you're wrong."

"babe, please stay out of this."

"shinsou wouldn't do this-"

"they found his bullet in your arm. nobody else who isn't retired or dead uses that shit."

you physically recoiled at that. "no way." you looked to kirishima, who only confirmed it.

"this has to be a set up or something? he wouldn't do that!"

kirishima made a face, which made katsuki squint his eyes in confusion. "what?"

"i mean.. she could be right y'know. we talked a bit before you came bro." kirishima said, walking in and closing the door behind him.

"right about what? shinsou is associated even if he wasn't the one who shot the bullet." katsuki asserted, standing up to meet kirishima, even if he was taller. this made kiri shoot his arms up in defense.

"i'm saying you're both right. we think it's someone closely associated to shinsou, someone who either taught him or was close to his teacher."

"eraserhead? the guy with a thousand hits under his belt?"katsuki glared, shoving a pointed finger in kirishima's chest.

"hey man, i'm just the messenger. but, no. someone else who learned from him too. but, midoriya called 'you know who' for information."

katsuki sighed, knowing the asshole who went by 'hawks' was about to be here any moment. "fine, i'll be ready soon. just.. let me take her home."

kirishima nodded, leaving the room with a "be back soon man!"

"i'm taking you home baby."

"fine."

"and you have to take all the medicine and stuff when i call you. we'll have to use burners again."

you rolled your eyes. "..fine."

"and, i want you to text me every hour and before you go to sleep."

"fucking fine. let's go already, this place creeps me out."

"good."

he grabbed your hand, helping you up. he let you change into some sweatpants and a tshirt so you didn't have to be the hospital gown for much longer.

you drove home, taking the long route so you wouldn't have to the see the remnants of your , almost, death in your own shop. he had to leave you in front and he wasn't happy about it. opening your door and hugging you tightly, you knew he wasn't going to see you for a couple days.

"babe, text me whenever you can. send me photos or voice messages i don't give a fuck."

"it's only a couple of days kat' you'll be fine, but i'll do it. you text me too, tell me when you sleep and stuff."

"don't let anyone in the house and don't tell anyone what's happenin-"

"i know, babe. i'll be okay."

he shared one last kiss with you. with a determined face he turned away, he would not sacrifice your life together like this. he wouldn't not let you get hurt again.

he would not fail.

[alastorsbookie10228]

Hello! :D Heard you were wanting some Alastor stuff. How about something fluffy with Alastor and fem reader. Him nuzzling her nose and cheeks, chuckling at her giggles he is bringing out of her. Something simple and sweet.

OMG OMG OMG STOP THIS IS SO CUTE AAAGHHHHH

ok lemme write it now 🤭

Stop, that tickles!

Alastor x fem! reader

soooo reader is southern....like South Georgia southern. simply because I say so, but enjoy it nonetheless.

sorry it's a little short. I couldn't think of anything else...☹️

It was that time. The time Alastor hated the most.

Rut season.

But now he had you, his sweet, Southern darling. The girl that spoiled him rotten with all of her home cooked meals. He was hardly even able to make his famous jambalaya because you scolded him for doing something you were supposed to do. Not that you minded preparing his meals and doing his laundry, of course. In fact, you nearly begged him to let you do those things for him.

But now that he's in a rut, his entire character is thrown off. He refuses to let you wear clothes that aren't his or that weren't made by his tailor, and even then he's doubtful. He'd feed you the hearts and eyes of the foolish sinners who dared look at his most prized possession. And he really didn't like you being away from him.

So that's why you are where you are now. In you and Alastor's shared bed, him marking you by rubbing his face on you, leaving his scent. Frequently, his nose would poke and prod at that one spot in your neck that made you giggle and try to shimmy away from him.

"Alastor, that tickles! quit it!" you squeal through giggles, trying to push his face away. All he does is hum in acknowledgment and continue his acts, much to your displeasure. You try to slide away, but he grabs your waist and tugs you back easily.

After what felt like hours, but was only 30 minutes, he lets up and pulls his face away. He looks down at you with eyes that are droopy with exhaustion and full of love. He smiles softly as you two just look at each other.

You smile back and lean over to press a kiss on his cheek.

"Boy, I done told ya to quit all that. I should be mad at you right now, but you're just too cute to get mad at. Cute as a button, ain't ya?" you say to him, moving your hand to sweep his bangs out of his face.

All he does is hum and lean closer to you and press a kiss onto your forehead.

"I love you, my doe." he says, now resting his head on top of yours.

"I love you too, Al." you say, hugging his waist and curling into him.

[anemoiashifts]

why you should stop consuming media if you want to shift.

where your attention goes, is where energy will follow. the more you focus on something, the more real it becomes.

⭑.ᐟ i made a post a while ago saying “why you should get off social media if you want to shift”. id like to expand upon that a little more. so, here’s a “why you should stop consuming media” or at the very least “why you should consume media carefully”.

you are being programmed through everything — social media, music lyrics, television, advertising, the news. this is why meta wants tiktok b@nn3d so badly. its taking away their ability to control & their influence upon you because average people spend more time on tiktok then anything else. this can be extended to news networks because more and more people are using it as news sources. media, not just social, need your attention in order to program you. as someone who has taken classes marketing, the core of what my class was, was teaching someone to be the best manipulator. my professor said to always “play on people’s emotions”. anything that has the ability to take your attention away & live in a negative & distracted stake, is taking away your ability to create the life you want to live. a lot of — if not everything — is about power & controlling you for someones benefit.

taking this into account, you can now begin to understand why television shows are called television programs. it is programming you to think & behave & make purchases. for example, the human mind does not know the difference between real & fake. if something provokes an emotion out of you — that emotion it is still real, even it was brought on by fiction. the human brain cannot truly comprehend fiction. this is why people form such emotional attachments to fictional characters because our brains cannot distinguish that they are a character or a scenario is not real.

power comes from your attention & what you focus on; what emotion it provokes.

₊˚⊹♡ why is this relevant ?

your thoughts & feelings create your reality.

by waking up every morning after a shifting attempt & saying “i didn’t shift, im not in my desired reality” is what you’re affirming to yourself. when you roll over & scroll on your phone, you are taking your attention away from persisting that you are in the wish fulfilled. you aren’t focusing on that you have already shifted. every shifting tiktok video is affirming that you aren’t in your desired reality. it’s reinforcing that idea of “you’ll shift tonight” “who would do this in your desired reality” “___ in my desired reality” — that you are still here. it’s hardly ever said “you’ve already shifted” on tiktok. again, this circles back to “playing on people’s emotions” — desperation & excitement. keeping people in a loop of shifting content instead of actually wanting to experience it for yourself. i will admit, practically everyone is guilty of this — self included. it definitely doesn’t come from a place of malice & i doubt it’s always intentional on anyone’s part but it’s something to consider that every shifting video you come across is a reminder that you haven’t shifted yet.

limit what you consume. for example, if you keep listening to a sad song, you’re going to be sad & pulled back into a time in your life that no longer serves you. it removes you from the present. the brain has no concept of time as it is a man-made idea. by eliminating media entirely (or limiting / being mindful of what is being fed to you & taking nothing at face value), you are getting that power back.

media keeps you distracted. it keeps you focused on other things & not your manifestations. it constantly brings back you into the 3d. the longer you’re focused on the 3d, the further away you will be removed from your manifestations & you will be pulled into things that fuel others desires.

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 18

masterlist

"this was such a good idea,"

alisa sighs contentedly, setting down her fork with a satisfied smile. kuroo mirrors her expression, nodding in agreement, though his mind drifts elsewhere.

inside, a war is raging. everything about this feels wrong, but it's the right thing to do. at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

he tries to maintain his composure, to focus on the woman in front of him, but beneath the surface, he’s being torn apart. it’s maddening - the frustration, confusion, and anger building up inside. emotions he knows he shouldn’t be feeling, not now, not here.

kuroo was brought up to be a "good" guy. make the people around you comfortable, give them a hand when they need to, and help bring out the best in them. he lived his whole life being the reliable, friendly guy that is ready to give you a push whenever you need him.

in his mind, it means he can’t afford to be selfish. it’s simple: if it makes others happy, it should make him happy too. and when he wants something for himself? well, he should bury that desire, deny it for the greater good. because that's his "role".

that's how he mastered the art of masking his own feelings, hiding behind a smile, always keeping things light and fun. anything to avoid ruining the peace, to avoid letting people see how conflicted he truly is. if he messes up, in his eyes, he’ll have failed. the tetsuro kuroo everyone knows and relies on would be gone.

he knows kenma can see through it. kenma’s always been his voice of reason, telling him it’s okay to be honest, to not always put himself last. but it’s no use. kuroo can’t afford to believe that - not when the cost of expressing his true feelings seems so high.

so, he convinces himself that this is for the best, even though he knows deep down that if he could, he’d treat you so much better. he’d hold you close, knowing you belonged there. just seeing you smile could melt all his troubles away, and even the slightest brush of your hand would send his heart racing.

to him, you are everything. beautiful, kind, funny, and passionate. but it’s more than that. something about you makes him weak in a way no one else ever has. you make him want to be selfish, to want you all for himself, no matter the consequences.

he’ll do anything for you - even if it means forgetting you. because that’s what he thinks you want. you don’t need him complicating things with his feelings, not when you like someone else, even if you call it a harmless crush. it’s ruining whatever you already have. so, he’ll keep this up.

alisa and kuroo continued to talk, and he tried his best to get to know more about alisa, outside being his project partner and classmate. all he knew about her was that she had a little brother who was also into volleyball, which sparked most of their conversations before. besides, he needed to distract himself from thinking about you.

honestly, he feels bad. this date is probably something you both just wanted to try out, but he can't help but feel like he's forcing himself to be here when alisa is genuinely great.

as they finish their dessert and wrap up the conversation, kuroo can’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. he’s managed to put up the front, to act like everything’s fine. maybe if he does this enough, he’ll actually start to believe it. maybe, eventually, he’ll forget about you.

“i had a great time, alisa,” he says, turning to her with a small smile.

“this was a really nice date. i felt comfortable.” the lie slips out effortlessly, though he did genuinely enjoy getting to know her better.

alisa raises an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of amused confusion. “wait, what?” she lets out a small laugh, “a date?”

kuroo tilts his head slightly, caught off guard. “yeah?”

she shakes her head, still smiling. “this wasn’t a date, kuroo.”

for a second, the words don’t register. then, when they do, he feels his stomach drop. holy shit. embarrassment rushes over him as he quickly tries to backtrack.

“oh god,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’m sorry.”

alisa’s expression softens, and she waves it off casually. “no, no. did i lead you on? i didn’t mean to. i’m sorry if i made it seem that way.”

kuroo shakes his head quickly. “no, it’s not your fault. i just misunderstood. honestly, at first, i didn’t think of you like that, but when you asked me out for coffee, i thought - well, maybe.”

alisa nods slowly, her expression apologetic. “i’m still sorry, though. i guess i should’ve been clearer when i asked.”

he shrugs it off, offering a weak smile. “it’s fine. really. i hope this doesn’t make things awkward.”

alisa shakes her head this time, "don't worry, as long as we're on the same page. you're a great guy yourself, kuroo." she smiles at him.

he returns the smile, but inside, his mind is racing. despite the embarrassment, a strange relief settles over him, washing away the tension he’s been carrying all evening. it feels wrong to be this relieved, almost like he’s betraying the plan he’d set for himself, but the truth is undeniable.

why is he relieved? all of a sudden, although he feels emotionally tired from all the torture he gave himself throughout today, it's like his inner self was screaming, thank God.

a wave of emotions crashes over him, sudden and overwhelming, as if the universe is trying to tell him something. like, this was a sign.

he freezes, the thought hitting him hard. it's absurd, reckless even. after everything he’s put himself through today, after all the mental battles and efforts to push you away, this would undo it all. it goes against every rational argument he’s made for why he should forget you.

but the relief flooding his chest is undeniable, drowning out the logic he’s clung to. it’s like a voice, quiet at first but growing louder, insistent, cutting through his doubt until it’s the only thing he can hear:

he loves you, and it's you who he wants to be with.

without another thought, kuroo stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“thank you, alisa. i’m sorry again. but i have to go.”

"i want you, y/n."

his words echo in the quiet room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare, frozen in place. the intensity in kuroo’s eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the surprise or the weight of his confession that makes your heart race.

kuroo lets out a shaky breath, his voice raw. “i know you like tooru. and i know you’ve explained to me how you feel about him, how it’s always been. but even knowing all of that, i couldn’t stop wanting you.”

his gaze drops to the floor, as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “i kept telling myself that i didn’t have the right. that i shouldn’t want you. but no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t help it. i just do.”

there’s a vulnerability in his tone that you’ve never heard before. kuroo, who’s always so composed, so confident, now stands in front of you, his emotions laid bare.

“i don’t know if you’ll hate me for this or if this will ruin everything between us, but i... i can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”

his fists clench slightly at his sides, his voice almost breaking. “i’m tired of pretending i’m okay with it. tired of forcing a smile when all i want is something i convinced myself i couldn’t have.”

he steps closer to you, his eyes lifting to meet yours again, filled with something that leaves you breathless.

“from the day i saw you smile... i wanted you. even if that smile wasn’t for me.”

the room feels smaller, the air heavier, as you try to process everything he’s saying. a part of you wants to speak, to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you find yourself moving without thinking - your arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.

kuroo stiffens for just a second, caught off guard by your hug. he doesn’t know what this meant, but in the midst of his confusion, his arms come around you slowly, holding you close, his fingers curling gently into the fabric of your shirt.

maybe she just missed me, he thinks. or maybe you felt touched by his confession. he tries to make sense of it by thinking that you were too happy to see him that you just weren’t able to control it. he’s been avoiding you lately, after all.

you glance over his shoulder, and there were your friends, peeking around the corner, smirking like they’ve been waiting for this moment all along. you pull back slightly from kuroo, cheeks burning, and clear your throat.

“come on,” you whisper, guiding him toward your room to escape their prying eyes. once inside, you close the door behind you, trying to ignore the heat that’s rising to your face.

the two of you sit on the edge of your bed, but there’s still a careful distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you know how to cross just yet.

kuroo breaks the silence first, his voice hesitant. “so...”

you glance at him, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. you know you need to say something, but finding the right words feels impossible. after a moment, you take a deep breath and decide to start with the truth.

“you know about my last relationship, right?”

he nods silently, his eyes softening as he waits for you to continue.

“well… it scarred me. i decided after that… i didn’t want to fall in love again. i didn’t think i could be a good girlfriend, so i chose to just admire from afar instead.” you pause.

as you start to explain, kuroo starts to decipher what you’re trying to say. immediately, he thinks this would end up in a rejection. why would you say these things to him anyway?

despite this, he wants to listen to what you have to say. it’s not like he’s expecting you to like him back. you feel his gaze on you, unwavering, and it makes it both easier and harder to keep going.

“i told myself i didn’t deserve anyone. even more guys that i thought was out of my league. that was the case too when i liked tooru. it was safe... i knew nothing would come of it - the reason why i used to say i just wanted to be an ‘observer’.”

kuroo stays quiet, letting your words sink in. there’s no judgment in his eyes, just understanding.

“i did my best to run away from romantic feelings,” you admit quietly. “because i didn’t think i deserve to be in love anyway.”

there’s a pause, a heavy silence that settles between you. then kuroo speaks, his voice gentle but firm. “we both know that’s not true.”

“is it, though?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

kuroo shifts closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “do you really think i would’ve fallen in love with you if that was true?”

the question takes you by surprise, and you don’t know how to respond. “i... i don’t know,” you stammer, unsure.

he shakes his head slightly, his expression softening. “you didn’t need to be my girlfriend for me to see that you’re more than capable of being loved. you didn’t have to prove anything to me. i’ve always seen it. you’re perfect the way you are, y/n.”

his voice drops lower, filled with emotion, looking down. “i would’ve done anything just to call you mine.”

his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. you can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the truth behind every word he’s just said.

“kuroo,” you begin, your voice shaky. “i don’t like tooru anymore. i haven’t for a while now.”

his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face. “but... i thought you guys were getting closer?”

you nod, a small, rueful smile on your lips. “we were, but only as friends, nothing more.”

kuroo’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. tooru had been trying to push him toward you this whole time.

“kuroo,” you say again, gently pulling him out of his thoughts.

“yeah?” he replies, his voice a little unsteady.

“i know you just said you’re in love with me... but do you think i can?”

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “can you what?”

you hesitate for a moment, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

“can i fall in love with you too?”

kuroo’s eyes widen in shock, his body going rigid as he processes your words. for a moment, he’s completely still, his mouth opening slightly as if he’s searching for the right response. the room feels charged with the weight of your confession.

you watch as he takes a moment to absorb what you’ve just said. when he finally speaks, his voice is a whisper, filled with disbelief. “w-what?”

you give him a small, rueful smile, and continue, “you know, getting closer to tooru was because of you. he was also helping me figure things out.”

kuroo’s eyes widen further, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “because of me?”

you nod, your gaze steady. “yeah,"

the pieces start to fall into place for kuroo, and you can see the understanding dawn in his eyes. he takes a deep breath, his expression a mix of relief and intense emotion.

and then, in a swift, almost desperate movement, he reaches for you, pulling you close. his lips find yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away, the kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.

his hands frame your face gently, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you can feel the tension melt away, replaced by something warm and undeniable.

when you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. kuroo lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

“of course,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“please do.”

and then, without missing a beat, he kisses you again.

notes

kuroo borrowed yn's phone and tweeted (and not because i didnt realize the plot hole immediately)

yn and kuroo sitting in a tree : D

this ends undercurrents OMGG UGHHKFSDHFKSDFS

i hope this was a good ending !!!!!

dw because a special chapter is coming !!! bc ik i'll miss this plus i want u guys to see sum yn and kuroo moments as a couple because WHY NOT

i'll properly conclude everything there !!

so technically its not officially done???

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin @mochroialainn @avis-writeshq @sorrynotsorrh @walllflowerrrsss @viva-vxgue @chifuzzy @mikaela26sstuff

[lizardsfromspace]

Okay one other thing, TV ratings wise, is that when Seinfeld's pilot was tested, it did horribly and every executive hated it. But one, Rick Ludwin, thought it was funny, and in those days you could just ignore The Numbers sometimes and decide to keep a show on anyway in the hopes it would become big

But Ludwin went further than that. He didn't just say "well I think we should pick it up to series". He just did it. He personally funded it from his division's budget, and he was in charge of specials and live events at NBC (because of this Seinfeld was overseen by that division its entire run, and people who otherwise worked on, like, talk shows and concert specials were fairly hands-off with their only sitcom), so that meant he cancelled a Bob Hope special that year and gave its money to a failed pilot he thought was funny

Can you imagine a Netflix exec going "I like this pilot, so can we cancel one of our three hundred '[COMEDIAN NAME]: CANCELLED' specials this year?"and keeping their job? Can you imagine someone getting away with that? They should do that. Even if there isn't a pilot they like they just use that money for anything else. Do it. They have one starring Ellen DeGeneres now. But since she's not edgy she just tells bland jokes & tries to convince people it would be feminist to let female bosses be awful to their staff. Please...cancel them for real...please...

[plutonianeris]

the late night thoughts…(their pov 18+) 🖤⛓️

pick a pile to read more about their late night thoughts about you (could be a past or future lover).

PILE ONE

You’re under my skin, deeper than I ever wanted anyone to be. I think about the way you touch me, the way your hands roam over me like you’re memorizing every inch of my body. I feel almost embarrassed about the way you had me groaning with my hands sinking into your skin as you bounced up and down. I close my eyes, and I can almost feel it—the heat of your skin, the weight of your body pressed against mine. God, I miss you. It’s terrifying, this need I have for you. I’ve never felt so out of control, so consumed by someone else. But with you, it’s different. You make me feel things I didn’t even know were possible. Every time you touch me, it’s like fire coursing through my veins, igniting something primal inside me. I tell myself I shouldn’t feel this way, that it’s dangerous to want someone this much. But every time I’m with you, the rest of the world fades away. You’re all I see, all I need. I want to lose myself in you, in the way you make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters. Even now, in the silence of the night, I’m aching for you. For your hands, your lips, your everything.And I know—no matter how hard I try to fight it—you own me. Heart, body, soul.

PILE TWO

The clock says it’s late, but sleep won’t come. Not when every thought I have is wrapped up in you. I’ve never felt this kind of pull before, this magnetic force drawing me to you, even when you’re not here. It’s maddening, really—how I can’t seem to think of anything else but your touch, your kiss, the way you make me feel like I’m losing control. You’ve awakened something in me. Something dark, something I didn’t even know I was capable of. And I want more of it. More of you.When we’re together, it’s like the air crackles with electricity. Every look, every word between us is charged, like the tension is about to snap. And when it does... God, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. You undo me, completely. It’s like you see right through me, to the core of who I am, and instead of running away, you want more. I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t get the way you make me feel out of my system. The way your hands grip my body like you can’t get enough. The way you kiss me like you’re starving for it, like I’m the only thing that can satisfy you. I should be scared of how much I want you. But I’m not. Because with you, I’m more alive than I’ve ever been. I dont want that to scare you. I just want to make you happy. I want to make you feel so good. Those little faces you make I want to see them while you’re under me, eyebrows scrunched, clawing at me and begging to give you exactly what I’ve been dying to give you.

PILE THREE

I think about your hands—how they know exactly where to touch, how they ignite a fire inside me with just a single brush against my skin. The memory of your lips on mine still lingers, and I bite my lip, trying to stop the rush of heat that spreads through me at the thought. There’s something about you. Something I can’t resist, even though I know I should. You push me, challenge me, make me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. You’ve become a part of me, and I don’t know if I can ever go back to the way things were before you. I hate how much I need you. I hate that you’re always in my head, even when I try to push you away. How you always have the perfect response and always know what just to say. But more than anything, I hate that I can’t stop wanting you. How every time you roll your eyes and grin at something stupid I say I imagine your eyes rolling back with your face pressed in the mattress, your hands reaching forward, whimpering that its too much and me pulling you by the waist even closer mumbling how you’re doing so good, that its yours, and that your mine so you’re going to be a good girl and take it all…

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.

[angelus-scripturae]

Pls pls write anything for Astarion. Like maybe an imagine, idk. I would much prefer something fluff but literally anything else is fine.

I'm starved :(

Well baby I’m gonna feed you tonight. Can’t have my lovely followers starving now can i?

Astarion Ancunin

Nightmares

Summary: You comfort Astarion after you defeat Cazador (not ascended)

Themes: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, mentions of suicidal thoughts and abuse, gn! reader, no use of y/n, no specified pronouns, (shitty writing because this is my first time writing in 2 years)

Astarion couldn’t sleep. Not that he didn’t want to, but he physically couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, phantoms of his past plagued the skin behind his eyelids.

He should feel better. Cazador was dead. The ritual was stopped and his kin were saved. So why did he still feel trapped?

He shifted in his bedroll a few times before letting out a frustrated sigh and sitting up. Running a hand down his face and glancing around the dark tent you shared. The only light being the remaining embers of the fire outside.

Experimentally, Astarion attempted to close his eyes in a futile last attempt to rid himself of the visions. Only to flinch and open them again upon seeing those agonised faces and mutilated bodies.

Sensing the sudden lack of presence beside you, you begin to stir awake and feel the bedroll beside you only to feel it empty. Feeling a jolt of panic, you open your eyes fully only to find your companion sat barely a foot away from you.

Astarion’s head turns as you join him in sitting up. “Sorry if I woke you.” He mutters and runs a hand through his hair. The frown on his face highlighting his fine lines and blemishes.

You shake your head and yawn as you come into a comfortable sitting position. “Don’t apologise…” You shift closer to him but stop once he flinches slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Worry laces your voice as you reach out to touch Astarion’s hand. His hand twitches as if wanting to pull away before he lets it close around your soft skin.

“It’s nothing, darling.” He forces out a chuckle. An obvious attempt to brush the subject off. You’d known him too long to fall for that. You let out a small sigh and move to sit as close to him as you could.

“Star… You can’t lie to me.” You smile sadly at him. “Tell me what’s bothering you. You can trust me.”

Astarion hesitates. Even after months of adventuring with you and getting used to your heroism and kindness, he still struggled with the fact that he could trust you. It’s not that he didn’t want to. He trusted you with his life. But it was still new to him.

“I spent 200 years not trusting anyone…” He speaks quietly. “200 years… suffering at the hands of that maniac.” He swallows as if trying to gulp down a lump in his throat.

“I’m supposed to feel free… happy. I’m finally able to live without the fear of being used as a pawn in some sick plan…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, trying to find comfort in the warmth of your skin.

“But I don’t, that bastard is dead and yet I still feel him looming over me. As if gloating that his death was quick.” His voice cracks a bit before he clears his throat. “Do you know how many times I wished for that? Preyed? A quick death to save me from him and my torture?”

His words made your heart break into uncountable pieces. Your eyes softening as you shift to hold his other hand with your free one. “Star…” You start only for him to cut you off.

“You killed him though… I know that…” He clears his throat again. “It’s silly for me to still worry about him. And the people he made me hurt.”

You shake your head and move to get a glance at his face. “Astarion, it’s not silly.” You speak softly, letting go of one of his hands to cup his face and turn his face to yours. “You’ve gone through so much. More than I can even begin to fathom. What you did was not your fault. You were coerced and manipulated by a man who was selfish and ruinous.”

His eyes finally move to meet yours, instantly softening once he sees the kindness in your gaze.

“You’re a different man to who you were under his power. A better man. Even if you don’t believe it. I’ve seen it.” You smile softly and run a thumb along his cheekbone. “It’ll take time to move on from this. This has been your life for centuries. Those habits will be hard to break, but I’ll be right there. By your side. Because I love you.”

Astarion smiles as his eyes gloss over with emotion at your words. “You mean that?”

You nod and press a soft kiss to his nose. “With my whole heart.”

He leans into your touch. Moving closer until he’s able to press soft kisses to your lips. “I love you too.” He whispers against your lips before pulling away and lieing back down on his bedroll.

Your smile widens and you lay down with him. Your head resting on his arm and your body pressed against his in a comfortable silence. No other words needing to be said to explain the bond the both of you share.

Your eyes get heavy again quite quickly as your breathing steadies drifting into a state of rest. Astarion glances down at your sleeping face with a soft smile and moves some of your hair to give you a kiss on the forehead.

He takes a deep breath, readying himself to tackle his demons again. However, for the first time in days, closing his eyes didn’t bring visions of victims and abusers.

But visions of you.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Moments Posts - Sylus Pt. 2

More random posts on the TL w/ boyfriend Sylus

misshuntermc

❤️ liked by skye.109, liiisa_, talkthat_tara and 98.4k others

misshuntermc: Who can't get plants to grow in the N109 Zone? 🤪

tagged: skye.109

comments

skye.109: I guess I should start calling you Persephone

↳ misshuntermc: You should 🙂‍↕️ ↳ skye.109: Shall I worship you like a goddess as well? ↳ misshuntermc: bring me your best offerings 😌

liiisa_: Girl only you because how tf 🧐

↳ misshuntermc: I guess I just got it like that 🤷🏾‍♀️ ↳ talkthat_tara: she's not human confirmed 👍🏼

thing1_luke: WITCH!! 🫵🏼

↳ thing2_kieran: SEIZE HER !! 🫵🏼 ↳ misshuntermc: im gonna put spells on you while you sleep little ones 😙 ↳ thing2_kieran: 😰 ↳ thing1_luke: 😥

misshuntermc

❤️ liked by thing1_luke, thing2_kieran, skye.109 and 102k others

misshuntermc: I love my skyscraper boyfriend

tagged: skye.109

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skye.109: your skyscraper boyfriend loves you more

↳ misshuntermc: I’m gonna melt into oblivion 😍🫠

thing1_luke: Did you get shorter???

↳ thing2_kieran: her attitude must be causing her to shrink 🤣 ↳ misshuntermc: meet me in the weight room in 10 😙 ↳ thing2_kieran: Luke took my phone I didn’t even say that 😰 ↳ skye.109: have fun boys

talkthat_tara: let me borrow that hoodie

↳ misshuntermc: no you never give me my stuff back ↳ talkthat_tara: please 🥺 ↳ misshuntermc: No ♥️

skye.109

❤️ liked by misshuntermc, talkthat_tara, thing2_kieran and 87.2k others

skye.109: her>>>>anything else

tagged: misshuntermc

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misshuntermc: Guys I think he likes me 😋

↳ skye.109: Am I that obvious? ↳ misshuntermc: just a little 😘

nene.nero: Bouquet bigger than MCs head and her head big af

↳ misshuntermc: ☹️ ↳ skye.109: Start running ↳ liiisa_: Nero remember that video from karaoke night? 🙂 ↳ nene.nero: You guys know I'm just joking ↳ talkthat_tara: EXPOSE HIM 🗣️🗣️

imjenna: A pretty girl getting pretty flowers 🤍

↳ misshuntermc: Jenna you're gonna make me blush 🤭

evollpoliceofficial_backup: It's giving Zade Meadows

↳ misshuntermc: Sylus I thought you blocked them 🤨 ↳ skye.109: they made a backup account ↳ thing2_kieran: FAN BEHAVIOR 🥱 ↳ thing1_luke: If y'all don't go find something safe to do 😒

misshuntermc

❤️ liked by talkthat_tara, liiisa_, skye.109 and 74.2k others

misshuntermc: need to figure out how to be that phone

tagged: skye.109

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talkthat_tara: if he didn’t aggressively throw his phone out the window throw the whole man away 🚮

↳ misshuntermc: he did & he clocked Kieran in the forehead by accident ↳ liiisa_: he better have gripped you the way he grips that glock ↳ misshuntermc: 😏🤭🤭

thing1_luke: @/thing2_kieran still caught that phone tho 😤💪🏼

↳ misshuntermc: my boy seein stars now 😭 ↳ liiisa_: saved the phone but at what cost? ☠️

skye.109 [public story]

↺ story viewed by thing1_luke, thing2_kieran, misshuntermc and 87.3k others

skye.109: third wheeling my own girlfriend

mentioned: misshuntermc

liiisa_ replied to public story: can you send me this photo? 😅🙏🏼

misshuntermc replied to public story: With the way you were on me the whole time trust me no one thought you were the third wheel 🙄

thing1_luke replied to public story: Should we get rid of this Lisa character? 🤨

thing2_kieran replied to public story: What are your orders boss? 🫡

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can I please request Nyx being a wing man for Cass?? 🥰🥰

Haven’t written for Cass in fucking ages…

Wingman

It was the annual ball one that Rhys loved to hold because well the man even if he was kind, deep down had that inkling to be a little show-off. It came from pride in what he had built. From general love for his people. For everyone who had built Velaris, turning it from just a city to an actual home. So these balls were open to everyone. The house that the high lord possessed was open to his people.

Cassian usually held back. If anything he let himself act like the guard of the house watching over everyone. Not that he expected someone to steal anything or break into a fight. It’s just his nature. Until Rhys had practically shoved him out of the house and into the back garden flowing with people. That’s where he had been ever since. That’s where he had caught a glimpse of you. That’s when something strangely unfamiliar rumbled in his chest.

“Mother, I’m a creep”, he mutters under his breath, pulling his eyes away from you as he tosses his drink back. Trying to keep his attention fixed on anything else. Anyone else? And then he’s back at square one as his eyes on their own accord find you. Moving across the garden to sit down. Smiling at the people on the dance floor. “Uncle Cass”, the voice of his nephew howling is however the only cure for now as he glances at the little boy half running half flying towards him. A proud smile forming on his lips. “What’s my troublemaker up to now”, Cass catches Nyx mid-air, tossing him up, earning a big belly laugh from the boy. “Got cookies”, Nyx giggled as Cassian slowly put him down, kneeling in front of him. “Cookies, hm… care to share?”, the general smirks watching as Nyx looked around, before pulling a cookie out of his pocket, making Cassian let out a laugh. A laugh that had caught your attention and as if his body had noticed that his eyes drifted to meet yours.

“What?”, Nyx asked, “What are you looking at?”, the boy glanced around too, not too keen on losing his uncle’s attention. But with your sparkly eyes watching him, Cassian couldn’t seem to string any words together. Captivated. He was captivated. “Uncle Az likes her for smooches”, now that’s enough to make Cass once again snap back to Nyx, “What?”, but the little boy only smirks before he’s off. His little feet carrying him fast through the sea of guests. All Cassian manages to do is grunt a quick no before he too tries to get to you.

Tinny hands pull at your dress making you look down. Purple eyes glancing up at you. “Well, hello there”, you muse. “My uncle really like you, he had drool on his face, going this”, the kid rambles on, before making a droopy lovesick face. You bite your lip, trying to stifle your laughter, “Really?”, “Mhm, he’s silly like me but he’s the best”, Nyx nods eagerly. “Well, your uncle sounds sweet”, you reach out to push some of his messy curls away from his face. “Can you be my girlfriend so I can annoy him?”, he asks but before you can say anything a firm voice booms behind you. “Nyx”, it’s more of a grunt than anything, “We don’t go harassing women, buddy”, and Mother strikes you, the moment you turn back you see the same male who had caught your eye. You knew him. Everyone knew him but… nothing prepared you for that real deal. “Is that why you were staring at her? He was staring at you”, Nyx nods along, way too proud of himself. “Mother, have mercy”, Cassian grunts into his palm before turning to you, “I’m sorry he's having a sugar rush, should have taken the cookies away”. But you simply cannot be anything but giddy as you watch them. “I can introduce you to Uncle Az, he also…”, but before he can say anything else Cassian cuts in, “No one is introducing anyone to anyone”, he shakes his head, “Get gone you little devil”, Cassian pinches Nyx’s side making the boy let out yet another mischievous laugh. “Uncle Cass and pretty lady will nice hair sitting in the tree…”, the boys sing songs making a couple of heads turn his way. “Don’t you dare finish that”, Cassian warns him but Nyx only grins deeper before shouting, “Kissing!”, and then he’s off, running as if his life depends on it.

Cassian watches him for a moment, composing himself before turning to you, “I’m so sorry, he’s not usually like that”, but he’s met with you softly chuckling. “He’s quite a character that one”, you mutter, lifting your head to look at him. Cassian takes a deep breath in, “wow”, he mutters. His hands reach up, wanting to brush over your face but he halts, stopping himself, “Sorry, you’re just so pretty”, he breathes out, making your cheeks turn crimson in a heartbeat. “General are you nervous?”, you muse. “Don’t pull rank on me, love, I’m a sensitive soul”, Cassian presses his hand to his chest as if he were wounded. “I can tell from the way that boy ripped you to bits”, you chuckled softly, making Cassian grunt, “He’s my sidekick but sometimes I doubt he’s actually on my side”, “Well, he did his wingman duties didn’t he?”, you shrug watching him. Cassian nods along, “Yeah, I guess he did. Cassian by the way”, he offers you his big callused palm. “Hm, and I was hoping for Uncle Az”, you shake your head biting your lip. “Now that’s plane insensitive, love. Don’t tag team with the devil”, Cassian whines with a laugh. “Y/n”, you press your way smaller palm against his, “But the pretty lady with nice hair works too”. You both chuckle, shaking hands, “I will find even more creative nicknames for you, sweet cheeks”, he winks your way before offering you a new drink.

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt on top almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby, Daddy. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want Daddy to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[sourrpatched]

38. Long Chat (wrdc 1.7k)

You put the pot in your hand down recognizing the man in front of you. “Oh my god what are you doing here?” You said sharply. “I thought you went out with the rest of them.”

“No, I stayed behind to clear some thoughts.” He said with his arms still up as a shield protecting himself. “You put the pot down right?”

“Yeah you’re safe.”

He let out a breath he was holding putting his arms down. There was an awkward silence as you both stood looking at one another. You had planned on holding off talking as much as you could but it seems like the world had other plans for you.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, i’ll just head back to my room so I don’t get in your way anymore.” Jaemin said with a forced smile. He turned away but before he could get away you spoke.

“Wait.” He stopped in his tracks. “Can we talk?”

The best part of summer in jeju island was that once the sun went down so did the temperature. Hot afternoons became bearable, and the atmosphere was warm in a way where people would spend the whole night out partying. You’d had enough of that since two nights ago, so here sat you and Jaemin on some beach chairs beside the pool at the beach house with left over beers from the fridge on a table.

It was quiet as you both sat admiring the light reflecting from the water in the pool. You could tell Jaemin felt uneasy, he had opened his own can of beer about five minutes ago and still hadn’t taken a sip. You felt guilty even though you were the one who had pulled him for a chat in the first place.

You took in a breath before ripping off the bandaid, figuratively of course. “Jaem, I’m sorry.” He looked at you puzzled but before he could speak you continued. “I was kind of avoiding you and I realize that it wasn’t fair to do but I really just needed a moment to get my head together.”

He gave you a genuine nod. “You don’t have to explain yourself, i’m sorry for expecting anything to happen between us.” He could hardly look you in the eye.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just really sorry. I like you a lot but I should know better than to pressure you into anything more than just being friends.” He stared down at the ground and though the lighting was limited, you swear you could see his eyes begin to water.

“Jaem–“

“I understand you not wanting to talk anymore. Don’t worry, when we get back i’ll put in my two weeks notice and I’ll get out of your hair.” His voice came out broken and he still refused to meet your gaze. He slowly began to sit up from his seat.

“Jaemin wait.” You pulled his arm keeping him from walking away. He turned to face you though he looked everywhere else but at you. You could tell there were tears welling up. “What’s this really about?”

He only shook his head taking a deep breath. “I’m really sorry.” You grabbed onto his face pulling his attention from the ground to yourself. “Hey, it’s okay please just tell me what happened.”

“Woah, what a fucking bitch.” You sat down, feet in the pool while Jaemin sat next to you.

He let out a dry laugh. “She wasn’t wrong.”

You felt a surge of anger, how dare she ever make this man feel anything other than happy. “Jaemin, she was very wrong.” He looked at you then.

“Ever since i’ve met you, you’ve been nothing but helpful. Every movie we’ve watched together, every volleyball game we played, even walks on the beach you’ve been the best company I could ask for.” You could see the smallest doubt in his face so you continued.

“Jaemin, do you know why I’ve been avoiding you? It had nothing to do with you, it was because I needed a moment where I could reflect on the new feelings i’ve had ever since i’ve met you.” He looked confused. “I had to talk to Jaehyun because even though I once loved him I needed closure so that I could move on and pursue the feelings i’ve had for you for a while now.”

You felt your face get warm at your blatant confession. “Me and Jaehyun would never be able to work ever again. When he left me to pursue his career one part of me felt like I hated him for leaving me and the other part only felt guilty that I wanted him to choose me over his career.”

“That’s not your fault. You loved him. It’s no wonder you wanted him to stay with you.” He gave you a sympathetic look.

“Yeah and I can say the same for you. It’s not your fault that I was avoiding you. I realize I was only pushing you away because I was scared to lose you the way I lost Jaehyun only it mattered more because the way I feel about you hasn’t ever been the way I felt for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you, Na Jaemin, are enough to me. You’re more than enough for me. I didn’t notice it before because it was so different but I like you. My heart beats every time you���re around, I look for you the moment you’re not by my side, and I even find myself jealous when you’re laughing with Hyuck instead of me.”

He lets out a laugh, “Hyuck?”

“Don’t even ever mention that to him.” You covered your face, full of embarrassment. His hand reached out to yours this time uncovering your face.

“Hey, look at me.”

You opened one eye at a time, still too shy to meet his eyes. He smiled at you this time very genuine. It only made your face hotter and this time you couldn’t blame it on the alcohol.

“I like you Y/N. Ever since the first time we met I couldn’t help but feel like I was drawn to you. I wasn’t even jealous of you and Jaehyun,” He paused for a moment, “Okay, well I was a bit when I found out he wrote a whole song for you but that’s it.”

You let out a chuckle. “I heard it. Very nice song but I don’t think that’s enough to rekindle anything. I don’t think I could feel anything for anyone but you.”

He blushed at your words. “Dammit I was supposed to be the romantic one.”

“Right, please continue.”

“The point is, I was scared that you didn’t feel the same. I’m always scared that i’ll do something that’ll change how people feel towards me but I think i’m willing to take that risk if it means I can be with you in the moment.”

“All i’m hearing is you’re so down bad for me.” You say teasingly.

“I’m glad you’re finally catching on.”

You can’t help but really take in the moment. Here you are right on the edge of a pool, the moon shining down on the two of you. A part of you is really happy that the world had you face him earlier than you planned, who knows how that talk would’ve played out before.

You can feel his gaze on you and it only makes you giddy. There’s no use holding back anything anymore so you move closer to Jaemin. “The moon is beautiful tonight isn’t it?”

“If the moon in question is you, then it’s always been.” You’re unsure when the gap became smaller between the two of you but here you are looking him in the eyes. Jaemin quickly glances at your lips and you smile knowing exactly what’s next.

“You gonna keep staring or actually do something?” Within a second he clears the space between the two of you catching your lips on his. You can feel the softness of his mouth as he kisses you so gently and intimately.

You pull back looking him in the eye still feeling the lingering effect of his lips. He looks lost in your gaze. Liking his lips while smiling to himself. His smile is quickly replaced with shock the second you playfully push him into the pool. You jump in afterwards poking your head out of the water only to find him smiling at you.

“What was that for?”

“I’m sorry I had a burst of cuteness aggression and pushed you too hard.” You say laughing. He joins you in your laughter pulling you closer to him in the pool.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“I’m also lucky to have you. We’re dating now by the way.” You say straight forward.

“Of course, but just so you know there’s no getting rid of me.”

“Hmm there’s not even a thirty day return policy?” You tap your finger on your chin playfully.

“Nope,” He says popping the p, “All sales final.” He pulls you in for another kiss. You can’t help but smile into it, this time he’s much more desperate with the way he kisses you. As if he’d been wanting you his entire life.

You feel his tongue tease your lip asking for permission to deepen it. He’s kissing you so much more passionately than before, you feel like you’re drowning in him which is ironic considering you were both standing in a pool at the moment.

Right when you feel like you have no more room to breathe he pulls away. You let out a small whine at the loss, cringing at the way he was able to pull that noise out of you.

“I think they’re back already.”

“What?” You’re lost in thought before realizing he meant the rest of your friends made it back to the beach house.

Ugh so much for alone time.

“We should get out and shower, don’t wanna get sick from being in the pool this late at night.”

You groan at the thought of leaving him. “I’m not ready to let you go.”

He lets out a small chuckle. “It’ll only be for a moment, unless you’re looking to shower together?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes shoving him away. “You freaking perv.”

“Hey you suggested it.”

“Ugh well you’re my boyfriend so I guess i’m stuck with this now anyway.”

He giggles softly, “Boyfriend yeah? Could you say it again?”

masterlist previous next

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A/N ➼ late chapter but i hope u guys enjoy it! btw i’m debating on if i’ll be participating in some fun october posts but we will see 🤔

taglist: @yyangj3lly @junviadinho @pnkified @mystverse @daegalfangirl @girlz4jaem @222brainrot @multifandomania @hamjwis @nanaxwi @haechansbbg @lampcults @urlocalbeaner5 @onlyhyunjin @neoskzluvr @pastelzindecana @nctrawberries @tommina @sunghoonsgfreal @rakshithanotrao @chaerinmin @injunnie-lemon @neocults26 @busy-daydreaming02 @nosungluv @alethea-moon @candied-czennie @iamsimplyasimp @channnaa @hyuck-me @clean-soap @nessaassen02 @lionzyon @neozon3nha @stqrgr7 @scarredrose25 @polarisjisung @l4narecl1pse @minniesbae

[base0h]

HOW HAIKYUU CHARACTERS REACT TO BUGS

a/n - watched a TikTok vid by @emmafischer8 about how setters would react to a spider and it was hilarious so I had to do everyone else too 😀👍

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader, crack

- he’s not very scared of them so you can probably count on him to kill them for you if you ask 😭🙏

- but honestly he’d probably name a spider Fred and give it a leaf to sit on when he puts it outside

- and in the morning when he wakes up he’d also say good morning to Fred even if he doesn’t see him because he thinks Fred might still hear him

- “Bokuto who’s Fred..?” -you

- “That spider fella from last week! The one that was on the ceiling :)”

- “…You named it?”

- “Mhm!”

- “I love you Bokuto 😭”

- “Oh I love you too y/n :D”

- He has a lot of bug friends

- especially during summer he gets a lot of ladybug and butterfly buddies

- he prolly has named them after which friends he thinks they remind him of

- theres a praying mantis named kuroo 🙏

- he’s scared of them

- he hates them with every fiber of his being

- never take him to Australia or ANYWHERE remotely outdoorsy 💀

- he’s the type to get even quieter when he’s afraid— and he can’t even bring himself to move away from said danger he just stares at it helplessly 😭

- he could be doing homework or something and then all of the sudden his pencil will stop, and he’s just frozen in place

- you can’t even tell if bros still breathing

- “Akaashi..? You ok?” -you

- there’s no answer

- no acknowledgment

- just dead silence

- then you see why, and it’s a tiny little spider on the wall in front of his desk

- you have to kill all the bugs or take em outside, akaashi will do everything else but that for you so yeah 😭

- you also might have to comfort him for a while after because he’s so scared he gets nightmares about em 💀

- I swear yk those jumpscare vids on TikTok where the bug legit jumps out at you and that Asian dude is like: hey, you ok?

- BUT THE MF COMES WAY TOO FREAKING LATE SO IT DOESNT EVEN HELP

- yeah akaashi has beef with him

- he wants to set his house on fire and lock the doors with the guy still inside :)

- seriously you could be just chilling and all of the sudden he’ll chuck his phone across the room and he looks like he looked at Medusa or sum 💀

- those vids that try to like make you feel bad for bugs because they’re just trying to exist mean nothing to him

- “Ok then exist somewhere else? Preferably nowhere near me?” -Akaashi (probably)

IM TALKING ABOUT THIS GUY. (JUMPSCARE WARNING)

- ok see— he doesn’t call it ‘fear’

- he calls it ‘disliking things with more than 3 legs’

- he acts all tough and mighty until you’re faced with the final boss…

- summer

- Idk why but I feel like he’d have a tiny little dog— like a corgis or a terrier or something

- it sometimes eats flies and stuff— and Kuroo worships it 😭

- he’s totally the type to like try and create some intricate trapping system for bugs so that his dog can take care of it for him

- Kenma thinks he’s insane :) (he is)

- side note he also probably cuddles with his dog and has good dreams whenever he sleeps with it nearby him 🥲🙏

- anyways, you’re basically his knight in shining armor now, congrats! :D

- “Oh y/n you look absolutely gorgeous today—“ -kuroo

- “Where’s the bug.”

- “…..Corner wall.”

- sly mf 💀 bro thought he could fool you

- don’t worry he’ll make it up to you however you want 😭

- you name it and he’ll do it

- anything for his knight in shining armor

- his heroic insect slayer

- his courageous promised messiah—

- yeah you get the gist lmfao

- you should probably start taxing him for it

- he MIGHT boycott you though 💀

- I honestly think they’re scared of him

- I feel like no bug has ever escaped osamu’s sight

- like if a fly lands on his food it’s genocide time

- he will find its cohorts and kill every single last one

- kinda scary ngl 😭

- in the kitchen he’s probably armed with a fly swatter 24/7

- not one of those plastic flimsy ones though, the heavy duty high voltage shit, only the best

- Let’s be real though, if a fly noticed Osamu looking at it— it’d run and not be able to escape 💀

- Those vids that are like: “no but the bug was just existing— what if it had a family?” Yeah no Osamu doesn’t give a shit

- “It’s their fault for touching my food. Not my fault they might not have a parent anymore.” -osamu

- “Yeah but you didn’t need to like— chop it up like an onion—😭”

- “It reminded me of Atsumu so I was extra pissed at it.”

- “Hey! :(“ -Atsumu

- “Ah I see, makes sense.”

- “HEY! >:(“

a/n - I need an osamu to kill the mosquitoes in my house I can’t kill em all myself— I’m losing the war here 😭

[thewhumpcaretaker]

How many days at a time do you think Helen kept John lovingly edged and locked up in the cage?

I wasn't sure if you meant a chastity cage or a regular cage, so I put him in both. And the answer is, "more than she ever expected." Here's what I think happened! (Also, divider source)

Not long into their marriage, during the first year, Helen noticed her husband getting restless. He loved the peace of being with her and not worrying about contracts anymore...at least on a conscious level. But memories haunted him. He was having more nightmares, and getting distracted more often, just staring off into space in a way that told her he was far away. He didn't want to say anything, but with enough coaxing, she got him to admit that it wasn't natural for him, having so much peace. He kept waiting for the interruption of an adrenaline-filled week or two spent being pushed to his limits. He didn't really know how to function without it.

"Do you want me to push you?"

"...Yeah."

The next day, she came home with a cage. Well, two cages, to be precise. One was a chastity cage. The other was a huge iron dog kennel that had to be carried through the door in pieces. The delivery driver didn't say anything, but he did keep glancing around like he was looking for a dog. At the time, they didn't have one.

The first thing she said after assembling the kennel was, "Alright, John. The next few days are going to be hell, just like old times. You have only one contract and it's this: obey. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He looked calmer than she'd seen him in months. He was in the zone already, and that old fiery, devoted determination flared in his eyes. So she locked him into both cages.

They'd done little things before. Flogging, whipping, spreader bars...but this was something else. This was 24/7. When he was in the big cage, he was laying on a futon, with no blanket and no clothes and nothing to do but sleep and read (she was kind enough to let him earn a book at least). When he was let out, he was serving her. She pampered him at every moment, holding his hand, cradling his head in her lap on the couch while they watched movies...but it was almost worse. "Do you want to earn a book to read, John? You can do a little something for me." And then he’d find himself pressed between her thighs, putting every ounce of his pent up frustration into lapping at her clit through orgasm after orgasm while cold metal bit into his cock. But the harder he worked to satisfy her, the more she writhed and moaned and clutched at the back of his hair and he just ended up edged even further.

John was not a man who gave up easily. By the end of the first week, he was whimpering every time she touched him, but he refused to give in. Dressed in nothing but his T-shirt on the way to bed, Helen knelt down and kissed his forehead through the bars. “Poor John. You remember your safeword, right?”

He nodded. “But I’m not giving up.”

Helen straightened up, pressing her bare pelvis up to the metal right in front of him. “So obedient… you can lay on the bed with me for a while if you make me cum without even leaving the cage.” He breathed a wordless groan and started finger-fucking her between the bars until she collapsed over the top of the cage with pleasure.

It was heaven to see him looking so openly pitiful, but by day 10, Helen was starting to worry. She decided that she really should have set a goal or a time limit. Letting John decide when they were done was never the right move, because he simply wouldn’t stop. She’d learned that the hard way by asking him to do heavy yard work or try marathon sex. He’d exhaust himself.

So she started thinking. How could she end this with a bang?

On the evening of day 15, it was raining. The house was chilly, and Helen walked past the cage to see him quietly shivering on the futon, hugging his own shoulders for warmth. He opened his eyes to look up at her, and there was no hint of protest, only reverence. But she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him inside of her, sheltered and held and treated gently.

 “John,” she said, with the voice of a hypnotist. “Your wife needs you. Are you sticking to the mission, or are you coming home?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She just walked up to the bedroom, put on her lingerie, and fantasized about the way he’d look when he burst into the room.

He was there in five minutes. When they went downstairs the next morning, she’d find the kennel in pieces, snapped apart at the corners and bent at the bars. The fragments of a disassembled pen were scattered over the kitchen counter to get to a little metal rod and pick the lock of the chastity cage, which lay on the ground in the middle of it all.

But for the time being, the only mess Helen could think about was the mess of her broken-down, exhausted, edged, submissive, perfect husband, who had pounced on her and driven his cock straight into her, completely bare. He was cold to the touch and inarticulate with arousal and shaking in every muscle. But he still held himself back long enough to give tender, steady thrusts while trailing kisses all over her. He was such a damn gentleman that he was trying to let her cum first even now, she realized. She bucked her hips upward to get his attention. “Hey. Stop holding back and fuck me. You earned it.” And he lost all control. The famous Baba Yaga, of infinite stamina and resilience, came in under a minute like an untouched virgin.

He buried his face against Helen’s neck. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart. You came for me like such a good boy. I love you, John.” She pulled the blanket over both of them and he fell asleep inside the shelter of her body, freed by Helen once again.

[pasteidolons]

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 ||𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔳

pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical innacuarcies for the sake of plot progression word count: 27.7k taglist: @hipsdofangirl, @reiofsuns2001

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 22𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 A thin line of perspiration coats your brow as you juggle carrying a tray stacked with dishes and teacups towards the main hall. The captains were having their weekly meeting now that everyone had a moment to gather, and you had been tasked with plying the food and tea. Excusing yourself softly, you step inside, gently setting the tray down onto the nearest tabletop and begin distributing the plates and cups.

Once done, you go about pouring tea for the captains, quickly moving from one to another so as to not disrupt the flow of the meeting. Glancing at the floor, you notice a few wayward petals that must have been swept in here as the captains congregated. With spring finally beginning to spur into motion you mentally note that you’ll have to be more vigilant in your sweeping and dusting away of the blooms and pollen to come.

“Thank you,” Youngmin says quietly after you’ve begun pouring his cup. 

You give him a small nod and then move to Gongmyung, “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” he says quickly, turning his attention back to Jihoon.

The air of the room is somewhat electric, perhaps because Gongmyung had brought along his followers to the meeting. 

“That’s all there is to report,” Jihoon states once he’s finished his spiel. “Anyone have anything else to add?”

“Not worried or anything, but have you noticed how lively the city’s been recently?” Mingyu notes. “It’s got me excited.”

“I noticed that too,” Hansol adds with a curt nod. 

“Don’t tease him, Hansol.” Seungkwan laughs, “Festival or not, Jun finds the city entertaining all year round.”

“I didn’t mean Junhui was lively– I was talking about the city.” Hansol frowns.

“One in the same, really,” Seungkwan huffs.

“Aw, you guys are going to make me blush,” Junhui says playfully. 

A snort from Mingyu, “No one here’s complimenting you. We’re just talking about the atmosphere.”

“Poor Junhui,” Seungkwan laments with a shake of his head. He then perks up, “Is there a festival coming up soon? Do you know, Gyu? I’m sure they talk about it at your drinking halls.”

“No idea,” Mingyu shakes his head.

“It’s probably for the spring festival at Bomun Lake,” Youngmin interjects himself into the conversation. “We may have people staying in the capital from Samjinnal as well. The King reinstated it to boost morale this year.”

“That would make sense,” Hansol says, looking at Junhui who looks ready to burst.

“Does that mean we can have permission to go?” He buzzes, “It’s been forever since I’ve been to a festival!”

“Festivals have nothing to do with our jobs,” Jihoon barks out with a frown. “We need to be more alert than usual. Our enemies might take advantage and use the commotion to cause more issues.”

“I agree with the commander,” Kangjoon adds. 

“Ah,” Soonyoung sighs out with disappointment, “Way to be a buzzkill.”

“Are you sure?” Gongmyung asks Jihoon, “It’s a special festival, the King himself reimplemented it. Should we not celebrate too?”

The moment the words leave him, tension makes the air thicker in the room.

“You’re suggesting that we slack off and go–?” Kangjoon prods.

“Right.” Gongmyung smirks, “We aren’t just warriors. It’s a good opportunity for the men to reflect and celebrate, and get out of their Hwarang robes for a while.”

Dongyoung laughs, “I don’t think they can do that, especially those three idiots over there.” His eyes flash to Mingyu, Soonyoung and Junhui.

“What the fuck did you call us?” Mingyu raises his voice.

“I didn’t say any names,” a smirk dances on his lips, “Or maybe you’re aware that you’re an idiot?”

“Dongyoung,” Gongmyung’s stern voice rips at him, “That’s enough.” 

“My bad,” Dongyoung chuckles, “I’m so honest my mouth sometimes says what I think before I can stop it.” 

Mingyu grumbles something while Kangjoon begins to talk once more, “It would be a good opportunity to better our relationship with your men, Gongmyung. Since we’ve been more and more noticed by the Crown, wouldn’t it be best to show off how cultured and mannered we are?”

“I don’t think that’s our current priority.” Jihoon states sharply. 

“I–” Kangjoon clears his throat, “I suppose maybe we don’t need to participate in our current… situation.”

“It’s precisely because of our situation that we should participate.” Gongmyung insists. “With the increased vigilance, the men deserve some sort of distraction, right Gukseon Kwak?”

“Ah? Oh, um… Yes…” It seems difficult for Youngmin to choose a side. “It is well deserved…”

A small ‘tch’ from Gongmyung before he laves compliments, “That’s right. I expected that answer from someone as qualified as you.”

Mingyu lets out a long sigh of relief, “I can already smell the gokaju and hwajeon.”

“Is that all that has your interest?” Seungkwan rolls his eyes. 

“If it’s drinking sanctioned by the Hwarang, I’m all in,” Mingyu nods. 

There’s some more chatter about the festival before the sound of several pairs feet treading down the hallway draws everyone to look at the doorway as Lee Chan peers in. “Are Gukseon Kwan and Commander Lee here?”

“What is it, Chan?” Jihoon beckons him inside, peering behind him to see a few other faces, “Dohoon, Junghwan, Wonwoo… What happened?” The tension that had been building in the room prior heightens as you see the stern faces Chan and the others are making. 

“The warriors sent to receive our monthly stipend from the palace were attacked and robbed of their money on the way back,” Chan reports, straightening himself. 

“What?!” Jihoon rises to his feet, a look of incredulity on his face.

“They tried to apprehend the culprits but they lost sight of them in the crowd,” Dohoon frowns. 

“Attacking a Hwarang warrior in the streets of Seorabeol and stealing our money…” Youngmin also rises to his feet. With how angry he looks, it’s almost as if he’s another person. 

“This is personal. If we let it pass, we’re going to lose face.” Jihoon looks at Youngmin. He then glances around at the captains, “You all, catch that criminal at all cost!” The captains agree with varying degrees of yeses before the commander continues, “But do not let the other men and the wang-do know it’s stolen. Only the ones in this room can handle the situation, is that clear?”

“Understood,” Hansol nods as he stands. 

“Then let’s devise a plan immediately.” Youngmin states calmly, the angered look still playing on his face as they discuss their roles and area of search.

“With that much money, the culprit won’t stay in Seorabeol for long.” Chan notes. “He may be on the move as we speak.

“He could already be out of the city,” Hansol adds.

“Maybe we should focus on swordsmen trying to leave Seorabeol,” Jihoon muses.

“What use could a swordsman have with that much money?” Junhui huffs.

“Alcohol, women,” Mingyu lists, “Nothing too erudite.” 

“Then we should monitor Noseo-dong, there would be a chance he’s there, right?” Soonyoung questions.

“If he’s walking around with a lot of money, he’s going to stand out.” Hansol states. “Isn’t it better to assume he bought something with it that he could easily turn back into money later?”

“A sword or something made of gold, maybe,” Jihoon mutters.

“I wonder why the swordsman picked today specifically,” Gongmyung ponders, his hand resting under his chin, “Perhaps they knew we were getting paid.”

“So you think it was one of our men?” Kangjoon looks over to him. 

“It’s possible. With the new shortages, we’ve gained more green warriors without checking their backgrounds as strictly,” Dongyoung smirks, aiming to poke.

“Criticizing us isn’t going to solve the problem,” Soonyoung retorts. 

You look to Jihoon, who seems to be taking all of it in quietly. His brow furrows before he begins speaking once more, “Okay. We don’t have much time. I’m going to decide who’s doing what…”

He goes on to explain the role of each captain in great detail, once received, they all begin preparing to leave. It just leaves you and Jihoon alone, you hadn’t been a part of the discussion in the first place, only stopping in to deliver tea and snacks. Yet now that you've heard everything, perhaps you can help.

“Commander Lee…” You speak out, your voice cracking after not having used it the entirety of the last half-hour or so.

“Ah,” he seems almost surprised as he turns to you. “You’re still here. Can you clean up the dishes?”

“Of course,” you nod quickly, “Is there anything else I can do? About the stolen money… Can I help?”

“You?” His eyebrow quirks upward, “What can you do about it?”

“I’d like to help speak with the swordsmen that are leaving the capital,” you answer and immediately his shoulders slump downward.

“Not so fast– You can’t go out by yourself. Do you really think you can pry into roaming swordsmen’s affairs?”

It does sound a bit bold coming from you. But you can’t resist the urge to help, “I can’t be as efficient as the rest of you, I’m very aware of that… But that doesn’t make me any less than you. I want to know who did it too. That’s why I want to help.”

Jihoon looks at you intently, almost as if he’s testing your resolve and you stare right back at him. After a moment of silence, he relents, “You’ve got the wit of a Hwarang, that’s for sure.” A small smile plays on his lips as he continues, “We are shorthanded, so you’re going to have to work with us for the time being.”

You try hard to hide the smile threatening to break free, “... Thank you so much.”

A moment later he calls out for Eunseok, asking if he could take you to where the negotiations with the officials are happening. It isn’t what you had in mind, but if you’re helping you’ll gratefully follow the Hwarang.

As the two of you near the edge of the city, Eunseok sighs, “I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

“Me either,” you frown as a bead of sweat trails down your neck. Your job is to look for any suspicious swordsmen trying to quickly leave the city from the southern gate. The two of you had gone to the magistrate’s office and the Watch to ask for information but neither of the two entities were of any help.

“If we were honest, perhaps they would have cooperated more,” Eunseok wonders aloud.

“That’s true,” you nod in agreement, “but we need to be careful about who knows…”

“You’re right,” he taps his foot on the ground. “Many of the men from the Guard have been incensed since Jihoon stopped them from directly interfering with Wonweol.”

Being more successful meant more opportunities to be envied and hated. The jealousy seems to always be pitted in the Watch and Guard’s stomachs. “What should we do next?”

“I think our best course of action is to return to Jihoon, at least for now,” Eunseok says and begins walking back in the direction of the compound. “Perhaps another captain was more successful than we were.”

As you begin to join him, you see several swordsmen chatting together on the other side of the street. 

“–expected it to go smoothly!” One of them laughs.

“It was so easy,” the one next to him chortles. “Ever since Ongsan they’ve been lacking men, it’s laughable.”

“Eunseok are you hearing–” you begin but notice that he’s already listening intently to the men.

“Shit, you’re talking too loudly,” the first man says, “We need to get out of this city as fast as possible, not let everyone know we’re here.”

The two men begin to walk away, bantering with one another.

“They must be who we’re looking for,” Eunseok frowns, watching the men. His hand flexes over the hilt of his sword as you begin to turn on your heels.

“I’ll let Commander Lee know!” You’re already beginning to run off when he calls out after you.

“It’s a ways back to Bulguksa–! Be careful!”

“I will!” You shout back, “Please don’t lose sight of them!”

With as much strength as you can muster, you race back to the compounds. By the time you reach them, the sun is sinking, dyeing the sky a vibrant red.

“A– Are you alright?!” You hear Junghwan clamor as you approach, your breaths running ragged and your chest heaving trying to collect enough air. “What’s wrong?!”

“I need to speak with the Commander… Immediately…” Your voice comes out in strained pants.

“He’s in his study�� I’ll go and get him.” Jungwan says, letting you recuperate while he runs off to find Jihoon. A few moments later Junghwan returns with the commander in tow and you relay what you had seen and heard. 

“We ought to have made you a messenger rather than my page,” Jihoon lauds you with a small smirk. His face begins to harden as he thinks of a plan to retrieve the stipend safely from the thieves, “I’ll let the others know and send them to support Eunseok.”

“Then I’ll go back to Eunseok first,” you say, knowing that leaving him alone while trying to track those men could get him in trouble.

“Don’t be an idiot– Are you planning on retrieving the money yourself?” Jihoon questions you with a frown. “Even if you get there first, what help are you going to offer him?”

You mirror his frown, knowing that he’s speaking the truth: what could you do? You wield no authority in the city and certainly aren’t as adept in swordsmanship or negotiating to get through to the thieves.

“I’ll get to Eunseok,” Jihoon states, “You find the others and join us when you’re done… And good job, by the way. If we can resolve this thanks to you, you’ll get the credit.” Without another word he leaves, heading towards the front gate hurriedly. 

All of the credit…? You hadn’t found the culprits by yourself, you’d only told Jihoon that you had come upon them with Eunseok. It still warms you that Jihoon had praised you, but it wasn’t just your doing. 

With Jihoon now on the way to the city proper, you go to find the other Hwarang. It takes you some time, with night falling as you lead them to where you’d last seen Eunseok. 

“You say that you saw the men here earlier today?” Youngmin asks, his face illuminated by lanterns adorning one of the nearby shop’s entrances.

“Yes,” you nod, “They were here.” Glancing around, you don’t see Eunseok or the swordsmen anywhere nearby.

“Ah, I thought I heard you two,” a voice calls out as they round the corner, “There you are.” Wonwoo walks in tandem with Junghwan as they approach.

“The captains are hiding out in the forest a little ways away from Bomun, we’re to tell anyone showing up to go and join them,” Junghwan nods.

“Then let’s get to it,” Youngmin says quickly and begins to walk.

After a short distance along a heavily forested road on the outskirts of Seorabeol you finally find them. Wonwoo glances at you, raising a finger to his lips to tell you not to make a sound. All of you continue to walk a bit more.

“Commander,” Wonwoo whispers into the quiet night, “Everyone should be here now.”

“Thanks for showing them the way,” Jihoon says quietly. 

“Are the culprits nearby?” Youngmin asks and Jihoon motions his chin to a path parallel to the one that you’re on. Even squinting, you can’t see anything in the density of the trees and the opaqueness of night. Yet you can hear voices rising over the crickets and cicadas crying out.

“A third!?” A voice, one you recognize as a man from earlier, shouts out angrily. “I’m the one who risked my neck for the damned operation!”

“What?! I’m the one who went undercover!” The second man from earlier shouts. “Investigated the Hwarang while you sat on your ass!”

Another voice that wasn’t with them prior now shouts, “Calm down you idiots! You’ve got a ton of money, why’re you fighting over nothing?!”

Jihoon’s expression grows more disgusted the longer he listens, a snarl of anger ripping across his face, “Can’t agree on their share, huh? Well it isn’t as if they’ll need it in their next life.”

“I’ve been scouting around and I believe it to be just those three,” Dohoon reports. You nearly jump at how quiet he’d been on his approach. 

“Let’s get this over with then,” Jihoon huffs and then motions forward, addressing his men, “Surround them!”

As soon as he gives the command, the Hwarang start running, surrounding the swordsmen. 

“W-What!” One of the men shouts as he eyes the blue robes, “There’s no way you could have gotten here so fast!”

“You shouldn’t have tried to swindle the Hwarang!” Jihoon barks back at him, unsheathing his sword and pointing it towards the three men. “Did you truly think you wouldn’t face any repercussions?!”

“Bastard,” one of the men clenches his teeth and draws his own blade, “I guess we’ll just have to fight our way out!”

“You’re stupid if you think you can win while outnumbered,” Dohoon snickers, a glint of moonlight reflecting off of his blade.

“Do not cut them down,” Jihoon orders, “Capture them and we’ll let the King’s justice sentence them.”

And with that, the Hwarang rush the thieves.

The men, who put up a small fight, are eventually captured and taken to a prison somewhere near the palace. After that, the Hwarang filter back to the compound after retrieving the stipend and not much is said about the excitement of the evening until the next morning. Kwak Youngmin calls all of those who aided in rounding up the thieves into the main hall, beaming at them as they enter, you included.

“Thanks to everyone’s cooperation, we were able to get our money back!” He grins, clapping his hands together. “To celebrate, we decided to allow an evening to celebrate the spring festival!”

“Yesss!” Junhui pumps his fist into the air, “I knew I could count on you, Kwak!”

Soonyoung joins in on Junhui’s excitement, excitedly hopping from foot to foot, “Hell yes! That’s what makes it worth it for me to work my ass off every day!”

“Don’t get too carried away, Soonyoung,” Jihoon says warily, “Don’t forget your position as a captain. Besides, you still have a few more days until it happens.”

“We know, we know…” Mingyu waves his hand at him, “But it’ll be the first nice evening that we’ve had in a while.”

When the meeting disbands, each captain goes their separate ways from the main hall. If the Chief wanted this to be a spring celebration, you’re going to need alcohol, food and flowers.

“If you have some time,” you call out to Jihoon as he begins to leave, “Can we talk about the arrangements for food, drink and decorations?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon turns to you, “We’ll be celebrating at a place by Lake Bomun. If we’d done it here you’d work yourself to the bone… You still need to be rewarded as well.”

“Oh, Commander, I don’t think–” Your ears warm with embarrassment.

“It’s a secret,” he says with a coy smile, “If I reveal it now, it’ll spoil the surprise.” After vaguely speaking, leaving you in a confused state, he spins and leaves the hall.

A few nights later you find yourself being led along a stone path to a temple near the lakeside of Bomun. 

“Commander Lee…” You murmur, trying not to trip on the agate stone of the walkway, your nerves somersaulting at the sight of the flowing fabric around you. “Isn’t there an issue with,” you let out a small cough, “what I’m wearing?”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, “It’s been a while since you’ve worn women’s clothes… Are you uncomfortable?”

“I think that’s exactly my point,” You stop as he turns to look at you, “I’ve only worn men’s clothes since I’ve come to live with the Hwarang.” You’d neither tied your hair or worn a hairpin for a while so it feels quite out of your comfort zone.

“You look great,” he nods, “If I hadn’t known it was you, I’d assume you were a noblewoman.”

“You’re too nice,” you murmur as you feel heat creep up your neck, he surely has an odd sense of humor. It’s then you take a look at him, the blue of his Hwarang robes shed for a brilliant purple. Gold embellishments line the fabric and a portion of his long dark hair is held in a cuff, cascading a ponytail along his already freed hair. Jihoon doesn’t wear his hair like this often, nor the clothes of his noble rank. He’s handsome, you cannot deny that.

“I took some time off tonight so that I could walk the temple grounds with you,” he motions you to follow him, “It’s a rare opportunity for both of us. Want to look around?”

“Ye– Sure!” You nod, still momentarily distracted by him. 

The two of you wander the small pathways of the temple for a time. Other festival goers litter the paths as well, couples, parents and their children– an air of calm in a seemingly torrid world After a few more minutes of walking, you and Jihoon find yourselves on a more secluded area of walkway when he pauses, looking at you with a question hanging on his lips,

“Are your feet sore? I know you’re probably not used to those kinds of shoes.”

“No,” you answer with a shake of your head, “I’m alright.”

“You’ve got a stronger resolve than most,” he chuckles, “Makes sense, how else would you have traveled from Toehwa-hyeon to Seorabeol alone?”

“I only left home because I was looking for my father,” you smile at him, sadness riding in your tone and surely reflecting in the small smile you offer. 

“I know,” he sighs frustratedly, “Trust me, we are trying our best to figure out where he disappeared off to.” 

The once light atmosphere becomes heavy with the mention of your father. Walking further a bit, you see several temple patrons tying small pieces of parchment to a tower in the center square of the temple’s entrance. 

“Do you think that’s for prayers?” You ask and look at Jihoon, “Should we write something?”

His eyes stare coldly at the display before you, before relaxing at your request, “I’m not one to leave it all in the gods’ hands… But if we’re already here, why not.”

“I’ll go and find a brush,” you grin and begin to dash off.

“Don’t forget the paper!” He calls out after you.

It takes you a while to find the items, but you return to Jihoon and hand him a brush and piece of paper. You take your time carefully penning your wish down onto the paper, blowing the ink softly so it dries faster.

“I can tie it for you,” he says as he notices you trying to figure out where to place yours. You hadn’t noticed him tie his own to the tower.  

“Ah– Okay,” you nod, caught up in his words as you try to hand him your wish clumsily. 

“What kind of wish did you write?” he asks, gently holding it in his hands but not unfurling the carefully folded paper. Eyes widening, you reach out, aiming to grab the paper but instead grip your hands around his, blocking his free hand from taking the paper. He laughs, “I can’t put it up for you if you hide it from me… Don’t tell me you want to keep it a secret for me that badly?”

“It’s nothing like that at all!” You nearly shout, flustered as heat creeps along your cheeks. 

“Is it something too shameful to mention, then?” He teases, leaning in closer. 

“…Why would you think that?”

Jihoon looks at you suspiciously for a moment too long but eventually sighs and pulls back, “Now, thanks to you, I’m wondering if you’re really making a wish for yourself or for the sake of someone else. IF it’s really something you want for yourself, then good.”

Thinking for a moment, you drop your hands away from his. He sighs in the gentle night breeze wafting through the temple and ties your wish to the tower without looking at the inscription on it. 

“My bad,” he relents, “I was being tactless. Your wish is only between you and the spirits.”

“No,” you shake your head, “It isn’t that… What did you write, Jihoon?” Your teeth catch your lower lip at the slip of his first name. You don’t use it often, only in the moments where you forget that he wields absolute authority over your role within the Hwarang. 

His eyes widen at your name falling from his lips, and then soften, his lower lip turning into a pout as you raise your hands, “Sorry! I shouldn’t be asking you.”

He laughs, waving his hand, “No, I don’t mind. My wish is obvious: for the Hwarang to become even greater than they already are.”

“That makes sense,” you note. “Then my wish is–” you begin before he cuts you off.

“Hush, I didn’t ask,”

“You just told me yours, though. It wouldn’t be fair… I wished for you to be safe and healthy.”

When you tell him, he laughs a bit mockingly, “Really? Isn’t that exactly what I was worried about? Plus, there’s no reason to hide something like that, right?”

“I know, but it’s just–” you flush, looking at the ground.

“Thank you.” He says simply and you look at him. “I’m the one keeping you under house arrest, and yet you’re so good natured.”

“I don’t think of it that way anymore,” you retort. “At first, our only common goal was to find my father. But now that I know all of you better I’m happy that I can live with you all and be useful in some ways.” Ever since the raids on Wonweol and Jeolin you saw what force the Hwarang could muster, you then could understand and believe that they are fighting for what is right.

Jihoon gives you a small nod in thanks, “This was a nice evening but unfortunately I have some work to do, so I guess we’d better head back.”

“Thank you for taking the time to take me out today.”

“There’s no need for thanks, it was a nice breather for me as well.”

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 13𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Look Seungkwan!” You call out to the captain some feet in front of you, “The trees are still in bloom.”

Boo Seungkwan stops in his tracks, the blues of his robes shifting as he turns to face you and then looks across the street at the tree you'd pointed out.

The gentle introduction of spring is most certainly needed in Seorabeol now. After last autumn’s attempt at quashing the Baekje forces, Silla thought themselves to be rid of the threat, but now more rumors have been arising from the north that Buyeo Pung and his men are on the move once again.

“You’re right,” he nods and looks back at you, a smirk on his lips as he does so, “Even then, I’d try to act sedate about it.”

Eyes widening as you look at a few townsmen who pass, their gazes dubious over your excitement towards the changing season. Maybe too forgetful of your attire with the dawn of a new spring, you find yourself quieting down as you catch up to Seungkwan.

“Seungkwan?” You question after a moment more of walking, your eyes watching a few petals float atop the river, “Why didn’t we go after those men who ran off after seeing you?”

“Them?” Seungkwan scoffs as you look back to him, “They’re not revivalists, that’s for sure. If they were, they wouldn’t have run off like a dog with its tail between its legs. More than anything they’re probably common thieves.” A nod of his head as his shoes kick up a small cloud of dust, “To be honest, I doubt there are any revivalists in Seorabeol willing to start anything and oust themselves at this point.”

“The Hwarang have really made a name for themselves, haven’t they?” You muse, watching the street ahead of you. “It seems like everyone knows your blues.”

In recent memory, the question of changing the Hwarang uniform has been placed on the table more than once, stemming from the fact that it both catches people’s attention as well as wards troublemakers off. As well as a lack of fashionable sense, Gongmyung had so graciously advised. 

“Has the Deputy Commander returned from Ungjin yet?” You question, knowing that Gongmyung had left some time ago to oversee some things at a newer installment of Hwarang in the area.

“Think so,” Seungkwan frowns, “Can’t say I wanted him back so soon, if ever, though.”

“He said he was going to recruit people too, right?” 

“Mhm, but I have to wonder if Ungjin is the only place he went.” The Hwarang mutters.

“Isn’t that a good sign though? That he’s trying to get more numbers?” 

“Is that what you think that’s about?” An eyebrow piqued at you.

“Am I wrong to assume that?” You furrow your brow, brushing your hand on the front of your robes to try and get rid of some lingering dust.

“Not at all,” with the way Seungkwan says it, you know he’s being sarcastic. “Kwak’s too nice to him, he should’ve been kicked out a long time ago.”

Ever since the Kim brothers had arrived to join the Hwarang, there had been a strong dislike for Gongmyung. You certainly can see why but hearing the absolute vocalized protest against him is jarring to hear. 

You break away from looking at the road ahead and catch a glimpse of a figure quickly turning and racing down a side alley. At first you think it to be more men afraid of getting caught from the Hwarang on patrol, but the bright pink of their skits catch you off guard as they slip around the corner. 

“Wait a minute…” Catching their eye, you’re stricken with a familiarity almost as if you were looking at your own face. You aren’t given much time to look at her, though, because once you’ve realized who she is, she’s gone. “Ahro!” You call out, only to be pulled back by Seungkwan.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, only for you to shrug him off and barrel down the road towards where you’d last spotted your doppelgänger. 

“Just hold on!” You call out behind you, knowing that a stunt like this is going to get you into trouble. The backstreets are more dense than you originally thought, a thicket of people causing you to weave your way through the crowds as you race after the girl. It isn’t until you trail her to a back alley deep in the depths of Seorabeol does she stop.

“Is something wrong?” Ahro asks as she spins on her heels as she turns to face you, “You seem to have exerted yourself quite a bit.”

“It looks like I surprised you earlier,” you huff, trying your best not to double over as your lungs take in more oxygen than they can process. “Do you remember who I am?”

“Of course,” she nods, “You were with the Hwarang that day.”

“Can I ask you something?” Thoughts flooding to what Mingyu had said that night at Noseo-dong, of the girl he mentioned who looked exactly like you. “One of the men said they saw a girl who looked like me at the bulletin board by the bridge some time ago… Was that you by any chance?”

“I’m not sure,” a frown holds her lips as her pink skirts flutter in the wind with a gentle breeze, “I don’t find myself traveling there very often. But if he had seen me, would that be an issue?” Embarrassment takes hold over you, you’re almost accusing a stranger for something that you don’t even know the full story of. “Perhaps what you wanted to ask me was if I’ve been there at night?”

Eyes widening at her statement, maybe she is more perceptive than you thought.

“It happened in late spring, someone who looked like me disrupted what the Hwarang were guarding,” you pick your words carefully, trying not to be but so accusatory at the moment.

“If it was you,” a voice, more accusatory, calls out from behind you and directed towards Ahro, “Then we need to talk, it may or may not end with your imprisonment depending on the answers you give me.”

“Seungkwan,” you mutter, surprise overtaking you as he walks to stand by your side. You’re not sure when he’d caught up with you. 

“Captain Boo,” she notes with a small smile, “Thank you for helping me back then.”

Her gratitude falls on deaf ears, Seungkwan’s frown not budging with her words. “Are you going to answer her?” He asks, gaze narrowing, the taught smirk reappearing as his body tenses, anticipating something, “Were you at the board that night?”

“Many people walk by that board during the day,” Ahro’s brow furrows, “But I don’t go near it at night because of the attacks. Are you accusing me simply because I look like someone else?” She looks almost downcast at her own words, her gaze dropping to the ground as she hangs her head.

“Of course not,” you step in, “It’s rude of us to assume without any proper evidence.”

“You’re still gullible,” Seungkwan scoffs, shaking his head, “After a few sorry words you’re just going to believe her? Even if she is the culprit, do you think she’d just tell you that?”

Seungkwan and you lock eyes, an immense feeling of guilt washing over you. You’re not one to place the blame with little to no evidence, but she was the closest thing to a lead you and he had seen since Mingyu had divulged what he’d seen that night.

“If there’s no reason for you to keep me here… I should be getting on my way, I have errands to run,” Ahro sighs out and turns on her heels, beginning to walk towards the main street.

You think to pursue her once more, but a fit of coughing coming from the captain interrupts that thought. 

“Are you alright?” A worried look to Seungkwan, who’s nearly doubled over, coughing into his hand. You find yourself stepping forward, wanting to offer assistance but not sure on how to do so.

His head shoots up to look at you as he hears you approach, his free hand raising to stop you, “Stay back.” Another bout of coughing before he speaks again, “I’m fine just… just give me a second.” It is the intensity of his demeanor that halts you, not only his words. The captain coughs for a few moments more, only standing straight when the bouts reside. His face looks pallid, sweat crawling down the sides of his face as he looks back at you. 

“Are you still sick?” You question him carefully as he wipes his hand on his sleeve. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly, a small smile finding its way to his lips as if to assure you. It doesn’t. “You did make me run after you, you know.”

“But…” you begin before he stops you.

“But nothing, we’re in the middle of our rounds, we can’t get sidetracked anymore.” With that, he begins to walk, pace a little more slower than usual. You catch up to him and he starts to scold you, “I agree that asking Ahro about the incident was important, but you can’t just run off like that alone. If she had been an enemy or had accomplices waiting for you, what would you have done?” He watches your brow furrow and shakes his head, “You didn’t even think about that, did you?”

Even if Ahro hadn’t done anything nefarious, Seungkwan’s right. You’d chased after your doppelganger without a second thought, which could have been bad if it had been someone else. 

“Just,” he sighs, “try to be more careful, okay? I can’t be around you all of the time to make sure you don’t run off and get yourself kidnapped or killed.”

With Seungkwan’s words still lingering in your head, you finish your rounds and head back to the temple grounds. They still continue to float around even after you've eaten dinner and resigned yourself back to your room, the bright light of the moon creeping in through the sole window of your quarters. 

You like to think yourself useful, on more than one occasion you have helped the Hwarang with their ventures and around the headquarters. Yet, today has shown you that there is much more to learn, and maybe that your perception isn’t where it should be. 

The more you think about it, the stronger your resolve to change it becomes, you’ll work on becoming more aware and less dependent on this. It’s high time you do something about it. 

Just when you think that to yourself, a loud boom reverberates around your room, up against your door as if someone’s thrown themselves against it. It causes you to startle, quickly bolting up from your bedding as your heart begins to pound in your chest. It happens once more and the door bursts open, splinters of wood falling to the ground from where the hinges once attached to frame, revealing a wang-do standing in the dimly lit hall.

“Is… everything alright?” You question after they make no move to speak, continuing to stand there ominously. “Do you need something?” Every muscle in your body feels taught, anticipating the culminating worry building in your gut.

The wang-do mutters something, nearly inaudible as you strain your ears to listen to him.

“What did you say?” 

“… Blood,” the word chills you as he takes a step across the threshold of your room, now as he comes into focus you can see that his hair is stark white. “I need… blood.” In his hand is a sword, dragging along the ground as he takes another step, the sound of the metal carving into the wood of the floor echoing around the space. It hits you then, your stomach dropping as you realize that he’s one of the Furies. 

You part your lips, wanting to call out for one of the captains, but find yourself unable to muster a singular syllable before the Fury lunges at you with a cackle. The blade hisses as he raises it and brings it down toward you, you roll from your bed and onto the floor but not before you feel the cool metal of the blade burn and sink into the flesh of your arm. 

A cry escapes you as you hit the floor, trying to scramble away from the intruder, but as the Fury catches sight of the crimson of your blood, he seems to only become more enthralled. Hand finding the wound on your arm, you try to apply pressure to it, your back hitting the wall behind you as the Fury looms in front of you. 

“Someone help!” The words finally escape you as the Fury reaches up to smear the droplets of blood that had hit his cheek, he laughs again before raising his sword once more, probably intending to end your life. His eyes show no remorse, no semblance of humanity as he laughs and laughs. Feet kicking off of the floor, he begins to barrel towards you, your limbs frozen in place as you can only watch.

The sound of a pair of footsteps racing into your room nearly pulls your attention away from the man running at you, yet it doesn’t, but when the new figure tells you to duck and look away, you comply almost immediately, tucking into yourself and trying to move away.

The Fury that had been chasing you stops at the intrusion, looking surprised to see the commander standing in the front of your room, his sword raised. Angered at the arrival, the Fury turns from you and takes a sloppy swing at Jihoon, the commander’s blade meeting the wang-do as he turns. 

A cry resounds around the room as the Fury is struck, writhing for a moment before his wound begins to heal before your very eyes. Jihoon realizes this and looks over to you, “Get over here, now,” his voice stern before he looks back to the wang-do. Wordlessly, you do, still holding onto your arm as you make your way to him, the Fury’s attention still rapt upon Jihoon. As you fall behind the captain, more footsteps race towards your room, several of the captains arrive at your doorway seconds later, their brows furrowed.

“You all right?” Junhui asks as he looks to survey the situation. 

“That’s,” Mingyu frowns before you can respond, his eyes settled on the wang-do, “the kid who had to drink the pimul after that shop raid… He’s too far gone now to bring him back.” The sadness in his tone is palpable, knowing that they’d have to kill the turned wang-do in the very near future. As if the words were an unspoken signal, the trio release their blades from their scabbards. They fan out, circling the wang-do carefully, watching for any signs of erratic movement. In an instant, the captains attack and fell the soldier, who crumples to the ground with a shriek of pain. 

For a few seconds, the room is quiet, only then to be interrupted by more footsteps approaching. Perhaps the captains hadn’t been the only ones to hear your plea for help.

“I thought we’d talked about sparring after the sun’s set…” Gongmyung’s voice sounds from around the corner, rubbing his eyes as he turns into the room, freezing when he sees the scene before him. “What’s happened?”

Brow furrowing as he looks to the fallen Hwarang, “Wasn’t he sentenced to death a few days ago for breaking our code?” Looking from the bloodied corpse to the bloodied blades held by the captains, “Are you all responsible for this?”

Jihoon mutters some profanity under his breath as Soonyoung begins to ramble, “You don’t understand, we’ve just-”

“A captain cutting down his own man?” Gongmyung continues, an amalgamation of confusion and anger culminating in his expression, “This is unheard of.”

“This is my fault, I suppose,” another voice rings out from behind Gongmyung and your hair stands on end immediately. Seungcheol looks forlornly at the wang-do’s corpse, “My lack of leadership caused this to happen.”

At the sound of his voice, Gongmyung jumps and at the sight of him, Gongmyung pales. “W- What are you doing here, Colonel? You’re supposed to be dead…?” 

The room falls silent once more, until Jihoon breaks it.

“I suppose we can’t keep it a secret for any longer.” Arms crossing over his chest, he looks to you as you push yourself from the floor, “You should leave, you can use my room for the night.” 

You want to stay, want to make sure that they can explain everything properly so that Gongmyung doesn’t get any more frantic. Yet, Jihoon’s expression tells you enough that he’ll handle it. 

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 14𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The sound of birds chirping stirs you from slumber, and as soon as your eyes open you bolt up, looking at the unfamiliar space around you. This is the commander’s private quarters, you remember this as you recall the events of the night prior. Your arm, now wrapped in bandages, has healed quickly, yet you keep the guise of injury for the time being. The last you’d checked it had faded into a light scar, in a few days there would be no trace of it at all. 

Your feet eventually find the floor, standing and stretching before you open the door and quickly make your way to the main hall to see what the events of last night had wrought upon the Hwarang. Before you get into the hall, you come across the Kim brothers, Gongmyung calling out to you.

“You…” The Deputy Commander says before two more figures come into view.

“Soonyoung… Hansol… Where are you all going this early?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“Due to last night’s… disturbance, I’m sure no one got a good night’s sleep,” Gongmyung answers for them, “You were injured, right? How’s your arm doing?” 

“It isn’t as bad as I first thought,” you nod, hand moving to ghost over the injury.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says with an uncharacteristic smile. Rather than the manic state he was in last night, he seems to be chipper. 

“Did something happen?” You ask, wondering about the mood shift.

“I suppose you could say that, right, Choi, Kwon?” Gongmyung looks at them, as do you. When you catch Soonyoung’s eye he quickly breaks away, diverting his gaze away from you. 

“I guess so,” the younger mumbles out.

“It isn’t information we can give out right now,” Hansol frowns, his attention rapt on you, unlike Soonyoung’s. 

“Even for you, Choi, that’s a cold goodbye,” Dongyoung says, “Or did you want to get out of here as fast as you can?”

“Are you… leaving?” You question, looking back to the brothers before Gongmyung hushes his sibling.

“We’ll be on our way,” he nods at you, “I hope your injury heals well.”

“Goodbye,” Hansol says as he passes you, a small nod in your direction before Soonyoung brushes past with a ‘See you’. 

And then just like that, they’re gone, leaving you standing at the entrance of the main hall to try and understand what had just happened. Before long, you pull yourself from your thoughts and make your way into the hall, meeting with a few other captains.

“Are you sure you should be up already?” Eunseok calls out to you as you enter, a worried expression on his face as he notices your bandaged arm. He’s standing next to Wonwoo, presumably having been in a conversation with him before your arrival.

“I’m alright,” you try to assure him with a small smile, “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

“That’s good news,” Wonwoo smiles, “I’m sorry to hear that it happened though.”

“It’ll be alright…” Trying to sate their worry, you bring up another thought plaguing you. “I saw the Deputy Commander on my way here, he was acting strange.”

The two look at each other before Eunseok lets out a sigh, “You saw them?”

“Soonyoung and Hansol were acting strange as well,” feeling concerned for the captains, you look to the two in front of you for answers. 

After a moment of silence, Wonwoo speaks up hesitantly, “Well… They’re leaving.”

Eyes widening as Eunseok adds on, “They’re going to form a new group different from the Hwarang. We had a meeting with the Chief and Commander Lee about it this morning.”

“So Soonyoung and Hansol…” A frown begins to curve your lips as you realize why they had been so downcast. 

“They are leaving with him, yes,” Eunseok sighs out, “I think I’m as shocked as you are. I understand that coming from Soonyoung, since he’s known him for longer… But Hansol’s surprised me the most.”

“Don’t worry,” Youngmin’s voice calls out, probably having witnessed your conversation from the head of the room. “We promised to keep things calm between our two organizations.”

Even if his words are meant to calm, with Gongmyung leaving with several pivotal members of the Hwarang, you only think he’s meaning to split and factionalize the rifts forming in the Hwarang’s ranks. 

“He still won’t be able to associate with the Guard though, right?” Wonwoo questions.

“Like hell I’d let him,” Jihoon speaks up now, a bitter bite to his voice, “He can leave, but I’m not letting him walk all over us so he can get what he wants.”

From there, the Hwarang begin to speak amongst themselves of names and other organizations that you aren’t too familiar with, slowly leading you to drift away from the conversation. Despite your feelings towards the captains leaving, you know nothing you say now could change anything, they’ve already left. So, you quietly excuse yourself and leave the main hall. As you walk towards your room, you look to the sky, wondering what the impact of leaving would have on the remaining Hwarang. Surely a blow like this hurt not only their pride but the relationships they have with those who left.

The door to the main hall opens and you turn to see Jihoon leaving, he catches you looking at him and strides over.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He questions, eyes lingering on your bandaged arm, “I remember the cut being deep.”

“I feel better,” you say quickly, trying to brush off his concern.

“Just because your father’s a doctor and you know a few things doesn’t make you invulnerable,” an almost concerned tone wavering in his voice, “Go and get some rest before you hurt yourself more.” 

“I will,” you nod, mentally berating yourself. It’s hard to recall the severity of one’s injury when it heals so quickly. “Before I go, though… Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the new group… How do you feel about all of them leaving?” 

“What do you mean?” He questions, crossing his arms. 

“You’re losing some of your men,” you aren’t sure how careful you should be with your wording, “Doesn’t that make you upset?”

“If they were my allies yesterday and things change that makes them my enemies tomorrow, so be it.” He shakes his head, “That’s just life.”

“Even Soonyoung and Hansol?” The two captains had been by his side since he’d started commanding the Hwarang, surely, he couldn’t turn on them so easily.  

“They’ll be missed,” Jihoon frowns, “But if they’re leaving it means they had an issue with the Hwarang, it’s better they leave now than when their discontent grows even more.” 

The commander’s harsh and analytical take towards his men leaving has you somewhat stupefied. On one hand, you can see how indifferent he’d be towards Gongmyung and his lackeys leaving, but the two captains should have him more in a state. But if they all found themselves incompatible with the Hwarang, maybe it was for the best.

In the days following the departure of Gongmyung, Dongyoung, Hansol, Soonyoung and the rest of Kim's followers, you notice the compound feeling much emptier and lonelier. Around that time, Suh Kangjoon departed the Hwarang and his role as War Counselor. Even if it’s the inevitable change of things, you can’t help but see several different paths beginning to veer off the main one, unsure of where each one leads. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 11𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Three months have passed since the departure of Kim Gongmyung and his men to form the Guardians of the Royal Tomb. More so, it has been three months since Hansol and Soonyoung left. Their presence, or absence of, remains blazingly obvious at times during the days that have since passed. These thoughts of them, and their reasoning for abandoning the Hwarang plague you still, as they do tonight as you toss and turn in your bed as you search for slumber.

It isn’t coming any time soon, your muscles ache from your work earlier in the day, and you’d woken up early this morning to aid with an upcoming captain’s meeting… Why aren’t you tired? You should be, right? 

Eyes shutting for the umpteenth time, trying to force yourself to sleep, you hear a voice call out to you from behind your door, a gentle knock accompanying it. “Are you awake?” The voice of the Hwarang’s commander causes you to scramble to your feet, inching closer to the door.

“Is something wrong?” You ask as you approach the door.

“You have a visitor,” voice muffled behind the wood, you can hear him shift on his feet, “Once you’re dressed, come to the main hall.”

“A visitor?” You muse as Jihoon’s footsteps lead away from your room to give you some privacy. The visitor in question confuses you, who could possibly be calling for you late at night? Regardless of their identity, you quickly dress yourself and head to the main hall. 

The figure standing there as you enter surprises you, before you’re able to question their appearance, Youngmin speaks.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep,” A small smile of apology as he glances towards the newcomer.

“You look like you just rolled out of bed,” Seungkwan says snidely, a grin on his lips, “Didn’t even brush your hair?”

You begin to move your hand towards your scalp as you frown at him, but before you can touch your hair, Jihoon cuts him off. Glancing at the commander, you can see Seungcheol, Junhui, and Mingyu in the room as well.

“This isn’t the time, Boo,” Jihoon huffs and looks at you, “You look fine.”

You nod quickly at the commander before turning back to look at your guest in full, once she lays her eyes on you, she breaks out into a small smile.

“It’s good to see you again.” With all of the elegance that you had upon your first meeting, Sooyoung commandeers the room with her charisma, “I hope you’ve been well? I’m sorry for visiting so late.”

“Sooyoung?” The name falls from your lips as you stare at her, confused. It’s then you realize that another woman stands beside her, her face seems familiar as well.

Sooyoung seems to catch this, turning to her and telling you, “She’s my bodyguard, of sorts.”

“Your bodyguard?” The woman in question is almost as striking as an actress, not what you’d expect a guard to look like. 

Even more confused, you look at Jihoon, who sighs out, “…She said that it was imperative to talk to you.”

It’s obvious that he isn’t stepping into your own matters unless you allow him to, so you hum to yourself and look back to your visitor. “Why are you here, Sooyoung?” A tilt of your head as you ask, “Is something wrong?” 

“I’ll get straight to the point then,” her smile fades away and her expression becomes stern, turning to face you fully, “I’m here to take you away.” 

“Take me away…?” Brow furrowing, your foot moves instinctively to take a step back, “Why?”  

A hum as she thinks, “It’s a long story that I’m not sure how to begin.”

“There isn’t any time to discuss this,” the woman beside her says hurriedly, “We need to leave immediately if we’re to get her out of here safely.” 

“Hold on,” you interrupt the pair, “Why should I go with you two?”

“That’s a good question!” You hear Junhui speak up from behind you, “You barge in here, ask to talk to her, and demand that she leaves with you?”

“You’re not related to her, are you?” Mingyu adds questioningly, “She looks about as confused as we do.” 

“Sooyoung could you explain what’s happening a little more?” You pose, not trying to get the captains upset if there’s an actual reason for you to be worried. 

“Our intrusion would perplex anyone, I suppose,” she nods in understanding and then motions to one of the tables in the room, “This might take a while, so it’s best to be comfortable in the meantime.”

“Would you like us to stay outside?” Youngmin asks, glancing towards the open doorway into one of the temple’s courtyards.

“No,” Sooyoung says as you move to take a seat at the table she’d motioned to. “I’d like you to stay, this involves the Hwarang as well.” She takes her own seat, followed by the captains, Youngmin and Jihoon, who she observes quietly before beginning to speak. 

“I’m aware that you all have met Hong Jisoo before, right?” As she states the question a few of the Hwarang look taken aback. “You’ve fought him once or twice.”

“How do you know that?” Jihoon’s gaze hardens on the woman.

“I know most things that go on in Seorabeol,” her gaze returns the hardness of his, “Eventually.”

“You’re like him and his cronies, aren’t you?” Arms crossing over his chest as he comes to the realization. 

“I’d prefer not to be associated with him, Minghao or Minhyun, but yes, in a sense I am.” A nod of affirmation as Jihoon’s expression softens slightly.

“… You were talking about Jisoo, then.” 

“We fought him at Wonweol, Ongsan and Banwolseong,” Mingyu interjects, brow furrowed, “What are his ties with the loyalists?” 

“It seemed like he was there for his own reasons, though,” Seungkwan points out, countering the other. “Not any sort of politics.” 

“Regardless, he’s an enemy of us,” Jihoon frowns, adjusting the way he’s seated.

“Then you’re also aware that he’s pursuing her?” Sooyoung’s eyes flicker to you, the captain’s stares following suit. 

The unraveling of this truth is a story you don’t want to hear the end of. Your stomach churns uneasily as each captain looks at you, some confused, some unsure of what to do or say. Youngmin eventually breaks the silence,

“We’re well aware of that.” He coughs to clear his throat before continuing, “We also know he has comrades he calls Demons; not that we believe that, of course.”

“I’m not sure that that claim is unfounded, Chief,” Seungcheol speaks up from the swarm of captains looking at you, “They all possessed strength incomparable to any of our men. Any of our... living men, at least. Despite that, it seems as if no one really knows they exist.”

The captains shift, murmuring things too quietly for you to hear before you look back to Sooyoung, anxious for her to continue. 

“So, then you do know that they’re Demons,” a nod as she hums somewhat contently, “That will make things a little easier to explain.” Her hands fold atop one another as she places them on the table, “I’m not human either, I’m a Demon too.”

Your eyes widen, lips parting in surprise, “You are?”

“I’m actually rather high ranking,” eyes locked with yours, “something akin to a princess.” 

“My family has been guarding hers for generations,” the other woman adds, moving a bit to stand closer to Sooyoung’s chair, not having sat when everyone else did. 

“I suppose that makes more sense,” Jihoon muses, despite you still looking confusedly between the three. “I was wondering why you were so friendly that night, you were getting intel on the Hwarang, weren’t you?” 

A sly smile as the guard brushes a few strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear, “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“You know her?” Junhui sounds shocked as he looks at Jihoon.

“Move your eyes up six inches, Junhui,” Mingyu snorts, “That’s Seulgi.” Then, it clicks, she isn’t as dressed up as she was that night, but it looks to be the kisaeng from the night the Hwarang had been in Noseo-dong. “Dressed a little differently, but that’s definitely her.” 

“Holy shi-” Junhui nearly chokes, baffled at his inability to have recognized her from before.

“Us Demons have lived on this land since before the kingdoms were even mere conceptions,” Sooyoung captures the conversation once more, “The top officials in Silla, Goguryeo, and what was once Baekje, already know of our existence. Most Demons have no interest in human affairs, preferring to be left alone. However, humans in positions of power sought to use us to benefit their own means.”

“Did the Demons comply, then?” You question softly, seeing the look of disgruntlement on Sooyoung’s face. 

“Most didn’t. Human ambition has never been strong enough to pull a Demon to get involved,” an almost angered sigh leaves her, “Yet, when the Demons refused to help, the humans were furious and sent out armies to destroy our homes and our villages. We scattered across the land and are now divided by the different kingdoms. We seldom leave our domains and remain in hiding.”

“That’s awful,” a somberness coating your words as she speaks, the lorness in her expression unsettling. 

“Many Demons went on to have children with humans, there are few of us now who can claim a pure bloodline.”

“I assume Jisoo is one of them?” Youngmin questions softly, trying to not upset Sooyoung further.

“The largest pureblood family are the Hongs, you’ve already met the head, Jisoo.” A small nod as she looks to you, “In the north, the largest clan is the Heo family. That would be yours. I heard the Demons of your family were destroyed by humans, but it seems like you’re the lone survivor.”  

“Me?” You resist the urge to point at yourself, utterly taken aback by what Sooyoung had just divulged. “That’s impossible… I-”

“I had Seulgi look into your family history to the best of her ability,” she insists with a firm shake of her head.

“It seems hard to believe,” Seulgi offers you a sympathetic smile, “but you are very much a Demon.”

At a loss for words, you stare at the two women. It’s borderline insane that this is what they’re telling you, but at the same time it would explain a few things. Why Jisoo is after you, why you heal so quickly…

“If you really are the descendent of a pureblood Demon, it’s quite clear why Jisoo is after you,” Sooyoung doesn’t finish the rest of her statement, the answer being quite clear.

“He intends to marry her,” Youngmin huffs, glancing at you and your wide-eyed expression.

“It seems so,” the woman agrees, biting her cheek, “So far it seems as if he’s only been testing the water, I’m unsure of when he’ll become more confident in his approach. If he were to use his full strength, I don’t know how you would fare in protecting her. Even the Hwarang can’t stand against the true power of a Demon.”

“Wait a minute- aren’t you going a bit too far?” Junhui asks, sounding hurt by the latter statement. 

“I don’t think you’re giving us enough credit,” Mingyu frowns, “We’re not just some foot soldiers.”

“The only reason you’re alive is because Jisoo wants you to be,” Sooyoung points out, “If he and his accomplices were to use their full strength I’m not sure what would happen.”

“Then let them,” Seungcheol’s voice rises through the unsettled quiet, “I would like to see the power of a real Demon.”

Jisoo, Minhyun and Minghao had all shown incredible strength in the prior meetings you had with them; even the Hwarang captains had trouble keeping up. If that hadn’t been the full extent of their power, you’re unsure that you want to see it. 

“Junhui and Mingyu are right,” Jihoon says, “Even if they’re stronger than the average warrior, you’re still discrediting us. The power difference wasn’t so great that they bested us easily.”

“That’s right,” Seungkwan nods and smirks at the Jihoon, “Besides, we’ve got the Demon commander himself in charge.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Boo,” Jihoon sighs and shakes his head.

“You must realize that these men are unlike any you’ve faced before,” there’s an almost pleading edge to Sooyoung’s voice. “Your job is to protect Seorabeol, not her. That’s why I’m asking you to leave her in our care, with us her chances of surviving one of Jisoo’s attacks will be much higher.”

“Give us a break,” Junhui says, rising to his feet and planting his palms on the table, “You’re making it sound like we can’t protect her.” 

“I’m not trying to sound rude but,” Seungkwan’s head tilts at the two women, “you think that the two of you could protect her better than us? Neither of you are a part of the Hwarang, I’m not sure why you’re going around and sticking your nose in our business.”

Sooyoung and Seulgi seem to be taken aback by the captain’s reaction. 

“What do you think, Commander Lee?” Seulgi looks towards Jihoon, her gaze narrowing, “You’ve acknowledged Jisoo’s strength, are you not at least considering Sooyoung’s offer? I think it’s in your best interest to leave her in our care.” 

“That’s different,” Jihoon looks at Seulgi, leaning back in his chair slightly, “We made a promise to her, to protect her, we’re not going to back out just because they’re Demons. And I understand that you call yourselves Demons too—but that gives us no ground to trust you.”

“Do you realize who you’re speaking to? Sooyoung is a descendant of—” 

“Seulgi,” Sooyoung stops the other with a raise of her hand, her tone calm but stern, leaving no room for more argument, “That’s not necessary.”

“I agree with Lee,” Seungcheol affirms, yet doesn’t look your way, “if she possesses blood of a different species… I’m sure her aid will come to use for our internal purposes in the very near future.”

Seulgi glares at the colonel, not speaking as to not anger Sooyoung. 

“This is a problem, then,” Sooyoung notes solemnly, “Is there no way to convince you to allow her to go with us?”

“Hold on,” Youngmin interjects, “We didn’t even confirm what she has to say about all of this.” His gaze travels to you, sympathetic in nature and looking in your eyes as if you already have an answer.

But you don’t know what to say. It’s not that you doubt the concerns of Sooyoung and Seulgi, yet there’s just more and more to take in. 

Youngmin sees your furrowed brow, eyes teeming with indecisiveness, and nods with a small smile, “It must be difficult to discuss in front of so many people. You should speak to Sooyoung privately.”

“What the hell—!” Jihoon begins to protest, but Youngmin is unwavering in his stance. 

“We’ve been ignoring her feelings for this entire conversation,” Youngmin states, “if she wishes to leave of her own accord, for her own safety, we ought to let her, no?”

“You’re too soft on people,” Jihoon scoffs, but makes no move to stop him. 

“You won’t steal her away the moment we leave you alone, will you?” Seungcheol asks as the captains rise to their feet.   

“Of course not,” Sooyoung says as she remains seated, “Once Demons make a promise, we’re bound to keep it.”

A few moments later, once the captains, commander, chief and colonel had filed out of the main hall, you lead Sooyoung to your room nestled in the compound. Seulgi had opted to stay outside, just far enough away so she wouldn’t encroach on your private conversation. 

“I apologize for giving you a terribly large number of things to think about,” Sooyoung starts off, “Normally, I would never do something like this.”

“It’s alright,” you try to reassure her with a small smile, “I’m sorry for them as well, I know they can be a little… brusque at times.”

“That’s to be expected,” she waves it off, “I know I was asking a lot of them. Not many humans would accept the existence of us so easily. But enough of that, what do you say to my offer? Do you have any thoughts on it?”

Of course you do. If it had been Sooyoung to come across you on your first night in Seorabeol, you very well may have taken her up on her hospitality. Yet now…

As if she can see the wavering of your options, Sooyoung speaks, “The Hwarang seem to believe they can protect you from everything out to get you. I don’t doubt their dedication, I do, however, doubt their ability.”

You stay silent, aware that what she just said may be true. The Hwarang are powerful, skilled in both the sword and bow. You’d seen them overcome overwhelming odds, but those odds had always been nothing but human-made. From what Sooyoung had said, the strength of a single Demon would be enough to wipe them out should they so choose. A few of you have been able to see that firsthand, and the losses associated with it. To think that that same fate could arise to a captain of the Hwarang fills you with undeniable dread. 

“With Buyeo Pung seeking aid in Goguryeo, things will only get more hectic here in the capital,” Sooyoung says to fill the silence, “If Jisoo were to strike in the hysteria, what do you think would happen? You should leave the Hwarang, let them fight without worry.”

“Sooyoung…” The concern for you seems real, frantic, almost. 

“Is there,” her expression softening as she searches yours, coming to a subtle conclusion, “a reason you want to stay?”

“…There is.” You answer without thinking it through, the words falling from you so quickly you can barely catch them. 

“One of those men, perhaps?” Innocent in nature, her question still catches you off-guard. 

“Yes,” you nod, lower lip catching between your teeth as you can’t find it within yourself to lie to her. 

For a moment she looks tense, before her posture softens and a relieved expression overcomes her, “I see… I won’t ask who, but I can understand your hesitance now. I can’t force you to leave, but should you need us, you need only ask.” 

Sooyoung and you make your way back to the main hall, the captains loiter around the space, some look anxious upon your arrival.

“Have you come to a decision?” Youngmin asks once you’ve fully stepped into the room, giving you little time to compose yourself. 

“For the time being we’ve decided to leave things as they are,” Sooyoung states, Seulgi looking at her worriedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.” Sooyoung nods to her, “I believe prioritizing what she wishes is what’s most important for now.” 

“Very well,” Youngmin finds it hard to mask the smile growing on his lips, “The Hwarang accept responsibility for her well-being.” 

“Just relax and leave it all to me!” Junhui bursts out, eager to show his worth.

“I’m sure Wen’ll give you much more to worry about,” Mingyu laughs and looks at you, “It’ll be nice to still have you around.”

“What kind of girl wants to stay here?” Seungkwan chuckles, “I can’t tell if you’re brave or if you’ve had a strong lapse in judgment.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” Jihoon points out, “You’ll still be treated like you always were.” 

“Of course,” you nod, “Thank you all for letting me stay.” 

Sooyoung then moves to you, her hand finding yours as she looks into your eyes, “Please be careful, and remember, I’m on your side.”

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” you smile at her gratefully as she relinquishes the hold on your hand. She gives you one last beaming smile before her and Seulgi are off into the dark of night. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 19𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 In the days since Sooyoung’s visit, you find it much more difficult to drift off into a dreamless slumber. When you do dream, you find that your mind often travels to your heritage and what it means for you now and in the future, something of which you don’t want to think about. 

You had decided to stay with the Hwarang, but was that really the best choice for you, for them? Of course, you wanted to stay but would you being here cause them unneeded harm?

A sudden clang from outside causes you to jump, to leave your thoughts for a moment as your heart begins to pound. Eyes cautiously looking towards your bedroom door, your hands clench your blankets in taught anticipation. 

Several short bangs from your door cause you to rise to your feet, the voice of Jeon Wonwoo calling out to you, “I’m sorry for bothering you, but there’s an emergency!” 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice wrought with anxiousness as you walk towards the door, opening it to allow him inside. 

His body tense as he enters, continuously looking over his shoulder to make sure the hallway is clear, “The Demons have attacked us.” 

“What?!” Icy dread seeps through your veins at his words.

“They’re after you, which means you need to stay here.” 

“But—” You begin to protest his assertion, wanting to help in some way as the only reason the Demons are here is because of you. “Wonwoo, I have to find the others.”

“I can’t let you,” he shakes his head, a worried look in his eye as if he knows he can’t reason with you, “The Commander asked that I make sure you don’t leave.” 

“They’re here for me, though. If anyone gets hurt…” You wave away the thought, “Maybe I can try and reason with them? What if I can get them to leave peacefully?” 

Wonwoo’s lips purse, and after a moment, he shakes his head in defeat, “If you’re going to be that insistent, I don’t think I can stop you. I was told to protect you though, so if you’re going, I’m going.”

The two of you leave your room, barreling down the hallway until you’ve reached one of the inner courtyards. You stand there momentarily, unsure of where to go, until Wonwoo speaks up.

“It’s this way,” he says before something darts in front of you, pushing the officer to the ground. His body seems to fly for a few yards, hitting the ground with a thud as Wonwoo groans out in pain. As you try to run up to him, the same blur passes in front of you and you feel an arm wrap around yours.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The voice of Hong Jisoo asks you simply as you struggle to get out of his grip. His grip is like steel, unmoving and snakelike, “I heard the Park Clan visited a few days ago, I’m sure you know why I’m here, then.” 

He sighs, looking at the surrounding buildings, “You’re a Demon, a noble Demon… There isn’t any reason for you to hole yourself up with fakes.” Jisoo’s grip tightens on your arm slightly, “Come with me.” 

It’s obvious who he’s talking about when he mentioned the fakes. With the way your body tenses, Jisoo can sense your anger.

“Do you really think staying here and helping their own self-interest and agenda to create those… things is really what you should be doing?”

You find it hard to respond. For obvious reasons, you aren’t a fan of the existence of the Furies, but there were times when it was needed for a Hwarang to survive. Could you fault a man for wanting to live? Besides, your father was one of the people who created the serum, you can’t help but feel partially responsible.

“You don’t know anything about what’s going on here,” you thrash in his grip, trying to lessen his hold on you.

“So? Even if I did, are you asking me to play ignorant to what they’re actually doing?” He scoffs, looking up from you as the sound of racing footsteps approaches. 

You break your gaze away from him to see Mingyu and Jihoon running towards you, sour expressions on both of their faces.

“Breaking in again?” Jihoon frowns as he locks eyes with Jisoo, “I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid. This isn’t a gathering place for Demons, you know.”

“Barging in here to find yourself a wife,” Mingyu snickers at the Demon, “You’d think you’d have gotten the message by now.”

The sight of the two Hwarang puts you at ease a bit, even more so when you can see Chan and a handful of other wang-do behind them. There are a few missing faces among them, you wonder if they’d gotten injured in the earlier skirmishes. 

“You have no idea how important she is,” Jisoo frowns, his grip on you unrelenting still.

“So, taking her against her will just because you’re too scared of rejection is the way you’re going around this?” Mingyu nearly shouts at him, “That’s just pathetic.” 

“Even if you take her as a hostage, we’ll kill you without hesitation,” Jihoon affirms, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. 

“I wouldn’t need to use her as leverage with the likes of you,” there’s an arrogance in his words as the Hwarang begin to encircle him. The tension pulls like a taut rope, beginning to fray as it reaches its breaking point. 

Eyes glancing down to your arm, you realize that Jisoo had left your other one free, you reach for your blade at your hip. It’s an awkward angle, but you jerk the blade from its scabbard and swing it up towards Jisoo.

He dodges it easily, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, his grip tightens and causes you to cry out. With the force he is exerting, you feel as if your bones will break, the blade in your hand clattering to the ground. 

“You really don’t understand how powerful I am, do you?” His gaze sharpens at you, lips parting to say something else before a voice calls out.

“I’m your opponent,” Jihoon shouts, “I said before that I wouldn’t hesitate to strike you from behind!”

Your failed attack had abated Jisoo’s attention towards the commander long enough to allow him a chance to strike. Jihoon’s sword drawn from his scabbard, he arcs his blade towards Jisoo’s head. The Demon moves quickly, but with a nonchalant nature in his movements as the blade passes centimeters from his throat.

The attack was enough time for you to rid yourself from Jisoo’s grasp and run towards the commander. Jihoon’s free hand outstretches to grab your arm and pull you into him, his arm then moving to wrap around you, both catching and sheltering you. 

“I thought I told Jeon to keep you in your room,” He mutters under his breath, “You never listen, do you?” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, the pulsating feeling from where Jisoo had grabbed your wrist beginning to fade.

“You did good though,” Jihoon praises you, “Without your distraction I wouldn’t have gotten an opening.” His approval is somewhat shocking, not something you’re accustomed to so it takes you by surprise.

“Lee Jihoon,” Jisoo’s voice pulls you and Jihoon’s attention away from one another and towards the adversary, “Get your hands off her. She’s mine.” There’s a possessiveness in his tone that chills you to your core, a fury in his eyes that seems to have ignited after he made his recovery from Jihoon’s attack.

“The Hwarang are responsible for her,” The commander shifts, bringing you just a little closer to him, “We gave our word.”

“Come with me,” Jisoo’s attention turns to you, “You’re a member of an honorable Demon family. You shouldn’t be associated with the likes of these humans.”  

“I’m staying here,” it only takes you recalling the blatant disregard Jisoo has had for human lives on your handful of encounters with him to confirm your distaste for him. 

“You choose the humans, then?” His voice low, threatening like a cornered animal. 

“That’s too bad, Jisoo,” a laugh from outside of the circle of Hwarang, you look to see Xu Minghao pushing his way through the members. “Never thought I’d see you get rejected by a girl.”

Your eyes widen, Jihoon had had issues dealing with Jisoo alone, now that another Demon is here, you’re not sure what he’d do. 

“Commander,” another voice from outside the circle as the Hwarang break their lines to allow Seungcheol to walk through, “I apologize for being late.” He looks at Jisoo and Minghao with a small smile, “I’m afraid the Fury Corps will be your opponent this evening.” 

A wash of relief overcomes you at the sight of several members walking behind Seungcheol, although the Furies have caused issues in the past, it seems these men were on a set goal.

“You were saying some interesting things earlier,” Seungcheol muses, still looking at the two Demons. “Something along the lines of calling us fake? This would be a great opportunity to prove you otherwise.” The colonel’s eyes then turn red, his hair turning stark white as he reaches for the blade at his hip. 

“These men are ready to fight,” Minhyun, who you hadn’t seen snake his way through the men, tells Jisoo. 

“So?” Minghao scoffs, the quiver of arrows on his back rattling as he moves, “They could have a whole army of these new bloods and they still wouldn’t be a match for us.”

“There’s no need to dirty my blade with fake Demon blood,” Jisoo’s eyes flicker from Seungcheol to Jihoon, “I’ll do you a favor and not kill you all today, but that doesn’t mean I’m done here. I will be back for her.” With that, the trio break past the lines of Hwarang faster than any of the men, human or Fury, could keep up with, disappearing into the darkness outside of the compound.

“You bastards—!” Jihoon calls out after them after they’ve already disappeared.

“Should we go after them?” Seungcheol asks the commander, glancing back at his group of men. 

“No,” Jihoon shakes his head, “We can’t risk the citizens of Seorabeol seeing your unit.”

“Understood,” Seungcheol nods, “We’ll call it a night, then.” 

“Thank you, Commander,” once you were sure that the threat was gone, your body sags in relief.  

Jihoon’s grip on you relaxes and allows you to step away from him, “There’s no need to thank me. We had our reasons for wanting to protect you. Just try and get some sleep now.” He then turns to his men and orders them to find any dead or injured men around the compound. His demeanor takes on that of astute seriousness, wanting to end this as quickly as he can.

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 20𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Mid-morning, after a tumultuous night and subsequent sleep, you trudge your way to the main hall to find the captains in some kind of meeting. Upon your entry, Eunseok turns to you and offers a small wave.

“Good morning,” he smiles and beckons you over to sit down next to him, you take him up on his offer and he speaks again, “Did you sleep well?”

“As best I could,” you respond sheepishly.

“You don’t need to lie,” Eunseok notes, “We can tell you barely slept at all.”

“Do I really look that bad?” You mutter, your fingers moving to trace the circles under your eye. A shake of your head as you turn to Chan, who sits on your other side, “How’s Wonwoo doing?” 

“The fall knocked him out cold, but aside from some minor bruises he looks like he’ll be fine,” the officer reassures you. “He wants to apologize for not doing a better job of protecting you.”

“I should be the one apologizing to him!” You claim almost exasperatedly as the door to the main hall opens and a figure strides in.

“Is something wrong, Chief?” Eunseok questions Youngmin, who looks far from the chipper mood he typically has. “I think you’re scaring her.”

“I’m sorry if I am,” he apologizes to you, “Forgive me.” The smile he gives you is fleeting, returning to the grimace that seems deep rooted into him now. 

“What happened?” You question, and he lets out a sigh.

“The monks here don’t want us staying at Bulguksa any longer.” He says as calmly as he can, a look of defeat in his eyes.

“You mean to say they’re telling us to leave?” Chan asks, a troubled expression overcoming him. 

“More or less, yes,” The leader frowns.

“I had a feeling this would happen…” Eunseok sighs out and looks at Youngmin, “What should we do?” 

The monks at Bulguksa seemed to have shifted to a pro-Guard stance since the outburst of attacks in the recent months against the Hwarang. It’s no surprise they want the Hwarang gone, but this place was just beginning to feel like home.

“Do you think last night’s incident was the last straw?” Chan poses to Youngmin, who nods in agreement.

“I don’t think, I know.” He huffs out a large amount of air, “They don’t want actual fighting on their grounds, I’m sure some councilman also had his hand in this as well.” 

“This is all my fault,” you realize as he says that, the Demon’s wouldn’t have shown up if you weren’t here.

“That isn’t true,” Youngmin tries to reassure you, “We forced ourselves in here with unreasonable demands.”

“If we need to move, we should start looking at new locations,” Chan says quickly to change the topic. 

“The monks here have already provided another temple for us to stay in,” Youngmin says, his brow furrowing. 

“That’s very… nice of them,” Eunseok states, trepidation in his voice. “They must really want us gone.”

“Yes to both,” Youngmin nods, “which is why I accepted their offer. We’re going to get busy around here soon.”

The donors to Bulguksa Temple bought a piece of land some ways away from the original site to build a new compound for the Hwarang. It lay outside of the city, further than Bulguksa or Shoshin had been, called Shoji. The new grounds has ample enough space for a bathhouse, new training buildings, and even more rooms for the Hwarang members. The members are clearly excited about it. By the time the end of the summer came around, the Hwarang had fully moved from their residence at Bulguksa to their new home in Shoji. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 ����𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Autumn breaks quickly after the long summer months. In August, the Crown had ordered its army to lay siege to Tolsa Fortress in the southern part of the Goguryeo Kingdom, asking for the aid of several Hwarang captains to join their ranks. The siege lasted for weeks with no eventual winner, save for Goguryeo as its stronghold hadn’t been weakened. No major events had occurred during the siege, the captains that had left, Junhui and Mingyu, returning with little to tell of their ventures to the northern kingdom.

It’s a quiet morning today, you’re cleaning up dishes from breakfast when you realize that the commander is nowhere to be found. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been present for breakfast this morning, either. Maybe he’s too busy to come out, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t eat something.

A few moments later you find yourself with a tray in hand, walking carefully to his room. You’ve adorned the tray with an assortment of food and a small pot of tea as well, not knowing if he was hungry or not.

“Commander,” you say as you stand in front of his door, “I’ve brought you some tea.”

“Come in,” Jihoon says after a moment, and you move to open his door. 

“Oh,” your eyes widen as you step inside, a bit taken aback by what you see.

“You can put it down anywhere,” he says, and you move to set it down, trying not to stare at him too much. He sits at the head of the room, writing something down on a piece of parchment, but that’s not what is grabbing your attention. His hair, which he usually ties up in a not atop his head, cascades down his shoulders loosely as he writes. 

“Do you need something else?” He asks, probably noticing your elongated stare.

“No,” you shake your head quickly, averting your gaze from him. 

“Then why are you here?” Jihoon questions, setting down his brush, careful not to draw his sleeve through the inkwell. “I’m a little busy.”

“Well…” You mumble, “Isn’t your hair in the way?”

“I don’t have time to tie it up, there’s too much I need to do,” he says nonchalantly, “I’ve got mountains of this shit to go through.” It’s then you notice the stacks of papers around him, all baring what looks like important seals. 

Even then, every time he moves to brush a strand of hair from his vision, he becomes even more frustrated. 

“Would you like me to tie it up for you?” 

Jihoon stays silent for a moment before turning back to his work, picking up his brush and beginning to hurriedly write, “I don’t like it when people touch my hair.” 

“I see…” you say, watching him write for a moment, not knowing what to say next.

“I appreciate the gesture,” he sighs, once again setting the brush down and moving to tie his hair up. “Now I can focus a bit more.”

“Commander? Have you eaten anything today?” You ask, looking towards the tray you’d brought in, “I brought you some snacks but if you needed a full meal, I could make you something.” 

He pauses from his work, and for a moment you think he’s forgotten about your presence entirely. “No,” Jihoon says and shakes his head, “I should be done by lunchtime. I’ll eat a lot then.” 

“Is there anything in particular you’d like?” 

“I told you that I don’t have time to eat right now,” he frowns, a small hunger pang reverberating through him.

“I meant that I’m the one cooking lunch today…” You scramble to fix your words, “So if there’s anything you want, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.” 

Jihoon now turns to fully look at you, chuckling to himself as he does so, “If you make what I want, the captains are going to be pissed.” 

“Let them be,” you shoot him a smile, “They can be as mad as they want. You’re working hard, and since I can’t help you out here, I can at least do something else for you.” 

“Food on the mind, huh?” A smile curling onto the edge of his lips, “I guess it can’t be helped then… If you back out on what I say, I’ll have it out for you, okay?” There’s a playful edge to his voice, joking, obviously, but it still catches you a bit off guard. 

“I’m ready to do what I can,” You nod eagerly.

“How about namul then?” He states simply. “Any kind will do.”

“Of course,” the words fall as you begin to think of what you’d need to make the dish. It’s not that it’s difficult to make, just time consuming as you would have to cook the variety of sides that you could find. 

“I’m looking forward to it, your cooking’s gotten a lot better recently.”

“Really?” You ask, somewhat surprised. No one’s really mentioned your cooking prowess before, you think it's okay at best. 

“The food we normally have is quick and easy to make, we don’t get much that takes time and effort. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it though.” 

A smile creeps onto your face and you try your best to hide it, still taken aback by the continuous praise, “I’ll try my best. We get a lot of fresh vegetables this time of year.” 

“Ingredients aren’t important,” he shakes his head, “If you could try and get the northern flavor, that’d be great.” A peaceful demeanor, almost as if he’s reminiscing, overcomes him. It ignites something of a fire in you, making you want to make this the best namul he’d ever had. 

“I’ll be going then,” you say and turn on your heels, only for the commander to call out your name a second later. 

“Do I really look that tired?” Jihoon asks as your eyes meet his.

“I never meant anything like that… It’s just that I don’t get to do much for you and I’d like to do anything I can.” 

The commander frowns, staying silent for a moment. “I’m not sure what it looks like, but I only allow myself to take on jobs that I can do. If I can’t do it, then I give it to someone who can. That’s also a part of my job.” He watches your eyes for your reaction, “Being determined is always good, but if there’s something you can’t do, you can’t do it, right?” 

“…Right?” Jihoon is being serious, but for the life of you, you can’t understand what he is trying to say. 

“How do I…” He hums, tapping his foot impatiently, “What I’m saying is that you don’t need to give yourself more work. Just do what jobs you can.” 

If you did that, then you’d barely be doing anything. 

“With you here, it gives the Hwarang something to stake its pride on. Do you understand?” He breaks his gaze with you to shrug slightly, “We’ll keep you safe, you don’t need to worry.” Your silence seems to miff him, “Don’t trust me?” 

“No, of course not!” You exclaim shortly, trying to keep your outburst to a minimum. 

“Then put on a brave face and don’t worry over what you can’t control,” he sighs, “that’s what everyone else here does.” 

“Commander…” you feel warm at his words of assurance. 

“I’ll stop lecturing you now,” Jihoon looks back to you, “I’m sorry for holding you.” He reaches for the cup of tea you’d brought him before looking back to his paperwork. 

“Thank you…” You know he’s driven by a ravenous determination to never look at Hong Jisoo or any other Demon out there, and that asking for help from others isn’t who he is, yet… To hear him say that in front of you, in and of itself, is some part of that resolve. Even though he can’t see you now, you give him a bow before you leave the room. 

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 1𝔰𝔱, 664 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s windy today, you noticed it first when you awoke, the hiss of air swarming in through unsealed cracks and pockets of air where the doors don’t meet their frames. You notice it still when the last of the leaves are stripped from their branches as you and Mingyu walk to the city center. And you’re noticing it now, the slice of the cold cutting through your clothes and chilling you to the bone. 

“It is almost winter, isn’t it?” Mingyu muses as he catches you shivering involuntarily, “The wind coming in from the coast isn’t helping. If this is what it’s like during the day, I kind of feel bad for the guys who patrol at night.” 

Your hands clench as he huffs out a laugh that turns into clouded vapors, “Are your hands cold? Want me to hold them for you?” 

You know he’s joking by the way you get flustered and tell him no, him laughing again as you continue to walk down the street. Looking up from your embarrassed haze, you spot someone walking towards you.

“Isn’t today great?” Junhui asks as he approaches, his arms outstretching as if to embrace the chilled air.

“Unfortunately, not all of us can act like human torches,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I still don’t know how you’re not affected by the cold.”

“Look at who’s talking Mr. I’ll-Break-Code-and-Wear-My-Summer-Clothes,” Junhui scoffs. Now that he mentions it, Mingyu is wearing his Hwarang blues, but the white cloth of his sleeves doesn’t look to be the thick linen typically worn during the colder months.

Even if Junhui was meaning to scold him, you know he means it in the friendliest way possible. Their friendship is wrought with things like this: what seems to be an argument but is really them caring for one another. You can’t help but chuckle at the two.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” Junhui asks when he catches your expression.

“She probably thinks your face is funny, you should really do something about that…” Mingyu pokes, a teasing cadence to his voice.

“It’s not that,” you shake your head, “I was just remembering the last time we met each other on your rounds, I was with Seungkwan and Soonyoung then.” The latter name brings a bitterness to your tongue, still unsure of how to feel about Soonyoung and Hansol leaving the Hwarang on such short notice. The two men’s faces turn sour at the mention of their friend.

“I just meant that with everything going on… it makes me a little nostalgic,” you say, trying to shake off the thought.

“The Hwarang’s changed,” Mingyu nods with a sigh, “Hell, so has everything else. Youngmin’s been promoted and all.”

Youngmin’s promotion didn’t mean he left the Hwarang entirely, but it meant he traveled often to speak with other generals and assess the threat of another Baekje plot. Rumors of Buyeo Pung raising an army in Goguryeo had been circulating recently, putting everyone on edge once again. You thought Youngmin’s promotion to be a good thing for the Hwarang, yet with Junhui and Mingyu’s reaction, they seem less than thrilled.

“We didn’t join to be the Crown’s guard dogs,” Junhui shakes his head. While the Hwarang had been surface level related to the Crown, only receiving orders when necessary, they now take orders directly.

“How is this going to change for everyone going forward?” You ask the pair, trying to focus on them and not the whirlwinds of conversations happening along the busy street.

“Well, if we really do need to fight against another one of Buyeo Pung’s rebellions, we won’t just be killing off the tail end of his followers. We’ll probably be put on the front lines.” Mingyu frowns, not too certain what to think of that idea.

“Supposedly, it was Yoon Jeonghan. He’s been making efforts to get Baekje back on its feet,” Junhui’s shoulders shrug, “Because of that I heard some factions of the revivalists are pissed at him because they were trying to win Pung’s favor.”

“He already had a target on his back within the Silla government for being a Baekje revivalist, he’s hated by most of the kingdoms now.” Mingyu muses, looking up to the sky for a moment. “Until something happens though, I suppose things are going to stay as they are.”

“And they will, it’s not like they can do anything about what the kings want to do,” Junhui nods. “They’ll only get involved once the king starts asking them to ration their food again to send it off to war.”

As you look around the street, you want to think that he’s right. The city kept thriving even under the threat of another invasion or war… Life continues regardless of what the higher powers of the kingdoms are plotting. You look up to Junhui, words falling out of you before you can catch them,

“I never realized you were so interested in politics.”

“Didn’t realize?” He looks slightly taken aback, his arms crossed over his chest, “What exactly did you think of me?”

“Uhm…” You cough into your hand, looking away from him, “Let’s continue our rounds. It’s nearly winter which means the sun’s going to start setting earlier...”

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 7𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The name Yoon Jeonghan had only been said once before, that you can recall. He seemed to be an instigator for a few of the Baekje-Silla skirmishes as of late and the kingdoms were desperate to find him. Yet, after a few negotiations with Tang and Silla leadership, it seems as if he had betrayed his loyalty to the Silla powers and had begun to help the two allies. You don’t know much about the logistics of it, but when Eunseok brings him up, you’re a bit startled by what he says.

“Yoon Jeonghan has been assassinated.” Eunseok states the news in the main hall, among the collection of captains who linger there after their morning practice.

“Are you serious?” Mingyu questions, “Do they know who did it?”

“Could have been someone from Silla or it could’ve been someone from the loyalists,” Junhui shrugs, “Hell, it could’ve been personal. If it was, I bet it was that Huang guy.”

“If he was going to get killed, I wish I could’ve done it myself,” Seungkwan sighs, crossing his arms.

“That’s not very funny, coming from you,” Junhui frowns as he looks at the other captain. “Weren’t we told to leave him alone?”

You’d never met Jeonghan, in fact, you barely know who he was or what he did. Yet somehow you feel that his death means something important to the kingdom, as if the already rising unease has skyrocketed.

“You all know the orders to leave him alone came from the Crown,” Eunseok nods gravely, “The rest of the kingdom isn’t going to see it that way. A scabbard belonging to a member of the Hwarang was left at the scene of his death. An official investigation by the Guard has been launched.”

“Is a scabbard really enough evidence?” You ask, feeling worry begin to claw its way down your spine.

“If it’s not I’m sure they’ll ‘find’ some more when it comes time,” Mingyu huffs as he looks back to Eunseok, “Who are they saying it belongs to?”

“They actually say it’s yours, Mingyu.” Eunseok frowns as the elder’s eyes widen.

“Really Kim?” Seungkwan sounds somewhat amused, “I wish you’d taken me along.”

“Cut it, Boo.” Mingyu’s voice is sharp as he motions to his waist, “My scabbard’s right here. If they’re going to make shit up they should at least do it better.”

“I don’t suspect you,” Eunseok points out and gestures to the others in the room, “I’m sure no one else here does either. Unfortunately, I’m not sure that the rest of the kingdom won’t try to pin the blame on you… I’m sure they’re having trouble finding the real culprit. Those who don’t think it’s you are looking at Huang Renjun, they say that he hired us to kill Yoon.” Was that the Huang that Junhui had mentioned earlier?  

“I’m sure most of the king’s chamber are eager to pin this on us though,” Junhui shakes his head, “Ever since the rumors of Baekje started again, the king only appointed staunchly pro-Royal Guardian and Guard nobles. Unless someone lied though, there’s no way this murder was done by one of us.”

“Unless Seungcheol decided to go and do it off the record,” Seungkwan notes, a slight smirk on his lips.

“How… is he these days?” Mingyu asks, a worried expression on his face. The last few times you’d come across him, he seemed to be acting stranger and stranger. Even if you didn’t want to believe it, something like this wasn’t far out of his realm of possibility. Whenever you pass him in the halls, it looks as if he’s hungry, thirsty for blood.

“We’ll have to be careful,” Junhui says, a hand running through his hair, “If we let people know about the Furies…”

“About that,” Jihoon interjects as he walks into the room, followed by Youngmin. It looks as if he’s going to say something else but the third figure that walks in takes everyone by surprise that whatever the commander is trying to say gets drowned out.

“Hansol?” Junhui nearly gasps out, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

For a moment, you question whether you’re asleep or not. The man who had just entered the hall was the same man who’d left months ago with Gongmyung and his men, Choi Hansol.

“Hansol,” Eunseok says, a smile overcoming him, “What happened with Gongmyung’s organization?”

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?” You ask him as you look at Hansol. “There’s no way the commander would allow someone from Gongmyung’s group here, we’re not even supposed to be talking to them—”

“Just,” Jihoon sighs out, trying to get the energy in the room to settle, “Let me talk. Starting today, Choi’s returned to the Hwarang.”

“What?” Mingyu sounds surprised, his once crossed arms falling to his sides. “Hold on, Lee, we’re glad he’s back but… What happened to Gongmyung?”

“You’re mistaken, but understandably so,” Hansol speaks, and you feel a sense of calm wash over you. It’s been too long since you’d heard him last. “I was never one of his supporters.”

“In fact, he joined Gongmyung under Jihoon’s direct orders,” Youngmin says with a coy smile, “As a spy, of sorts.” With the leader’s words, everything begins to make sense.

“I can’t believe you went off and had fun without me,” Seungkwan faux pouts at Hansol.

“I’m sorry we had to keep this from you,” Youngmin’s head bows down in apology. It’s a surprise for sure, but nonetheless a welcome one.

You give Hansol a small smile but he only sighs and shakes his head, “I’m afraid it’s a bit early to feel relieved.” His gaze turns to Jihoon, “The last six months have made Gongmyung’s intentions clear. Gongmyung plans to uproot the Hwarang institution in favor of his ideal one.”

“What do you mean by uproot?” Eunseok asks with a frown.

“Gongmyung is going to expose the Furies to force the king’s favor,” Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek as he holds in a scathing retort.

“There’s more,” Hansol adds and glances at Youngmin, “They plan to assassinate the Leader of the Hwarang.”

Youngmin’s face is tense, gaze hardening as he looks at Jihoon and waits for him to speak. You feel your stomach drop, not realizing the extent to which Gongmyung hated the Hwarang.

“The Guardians are moving to destroy us,” The commander says and looks to Mingyu, “You heard about Yoon?”

“That they’re trying to pin it on me?” A nod, “Yeah.”

“They’re using it to pin blame on us and to discredit your father,” Jihoon crosses his arms, “They’ve been spreading the rumor across Seorabeol, even if Huang says that he wasn’t the one who ‘hired’ us, there’s still going to be people who believe it was our doing.” His gaze travels to Hansol, “So, Choi’s going to be guarding Huang for the time being. If it looks like he left and then came back, it won’t be hard for Gongmyung to figure us out.”

A subtle nod from the captain, “Of course.”

The room stays quiet, so quiet that one can hear the wind whistling in from outside. A tension remains taught in the room, anticipatory for what’s to come and the outcome of what it brings.

“Kim Gongmyung…” The name leaves Jihoon in a hushed murmur, “It’s not enough for him to expose the Fury Corps, but to try and kill Youngmin too?” It’s almost as if he’s having a quiet conversation with his former comrade. He shakes his head, drawing his gaze from the floor and looks to the captains, “It’s too bad that it has to end this way, but we have no other choice. Gongmyung dies.”

“It can’t really be helped, can it?” Youngmin exhales, nodding solemnly as if to seal the former Deputy Commander’s fate.

“We’ll invite Gongmyung to Youngmin’s residence in Seorabeol, I’ll be there too,” Jihoon begins, his voice low, commanding, “Once he’s dead we’ll use his corpse to lure the rest of his Guardians there and kill them.” He looks to Mingyu and Junhui, “I’m assigning both of you and your divisions to this, take care of it.

“Who do you want me to kill?” Seungkwan asks, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword.

“No one, you’re staying here.” When he sees the other beginning to protest, the commander speaks again, “You’ve still got that cough, right? You’re sick. Hansol can keep you company for a few days.”

“So, you’re telling me I can’t participate in the assassination of a person who’s trying to kill our leader?” Seungkwan sounds agitated, a bitterness coating his words as he glares at Jihoon, “You’re a real asshole.”

You don’t realize that you’ve been watching the scene unfold in silent shock until you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see Hansol standing there, he seems to take in a breath before speaking.

“The Guardians of the Royal Tomb are going to be destroyed after this… If we want Soonyoung to return, this is our only chance of getting him back.”

Eyes widening at what he says, he’s right. If the Hwarang mean to kill the Guardians, that includes Kwon Soonyoung.

Sucking in a breath, you look at Jihoon, “Commander? What are we going to do about Soonyoung? He’s a part of the Guardians…”

“Don’t be silly,” Junhui says easily, “Of course we’ll save hi—”

“If he fights us, he dies.” Jihoon interrupts, cutting off the captain.

“You can’t mean that—” Heart beginning to pound in your chest, your mind going blank. Is Jihoon serious? “You’ve known Soonyoung for so long, surely you don’t mean that?”

Jihoon looks as if he wants to push you away, turning on his heels and exiting the main hall swiftly.

“You’re actually going to order them to kill Soonyoung?!” You cry out after him, finding yourself following his footsteps, “Just because he left the Hwarang means you don’t care if he lives or dies?!” Before you’re actually able to leave the main hall, a hand grabs the back of your robes and pulls you into the room.

“I know that he wants to save him too,” Youngmin’s voice says softly as you turn to face him, his hand letting go of your clothes. “There’s no way he could possibly live with giving the command to kill a friend who was part of our family for years.” His hands clench at his side, so much so his knuckles turn white and you fear his nails have pierced his skin.

In this moment you realize how much each of the Hwarang are suffering with this.

“I’m sorry for saying that,” you bow your head to him after your realization.

“There’s no need,” Youngmin sighs, “You’re angry. We all are. It makes me happy though, I’m glad people care about Soonyoung.” He lets out a heaving sigh before turning toward Mingyu and Junhui, “I’m not asking this as your Leader, but as Kwak Youngmin… Let Soonyoung live, if you can. Try to convince him to rejoin the Hwarang.”

“… Got it,” Junhui says quickly as Mingyu takes a moment more to think.

“His life in our hands?” He shakes his head, “That’s a big responsibility.”

“I trust everything’s clear, then?” Youngmin asks, scanning the faces of the captains, “If you have questions, now is the best time to ask.”

“…Wait,” you speak up, unable to stop yourself. The leader looks to you as you brace yourself, “I haven’t been given any orders. I want to help.”

“This is an… unseemly job.” Youngmin looks at you, brow contorted, “Nothing like Wonweol or Ongsan. You shouldn’t be involved.”

He’s right. This isn’t a mandated order from a higher official, this was the Hwarang’s business alone, a covert and self-righteous one at that. They aren’t meant to guard or patrol, they’re set on murder. Still, you want to do what you can.

“Please, let me be a part of it,” You implore, “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“This isn’t like anything else you’ve been a part of,” Junhui says gently, “You understand that, right?”

“We’re killing someone who used to be a Hwarang.” Mingyu adds soberly, unable to look you in the eye. “And even if we don’t want to, we may end up killing Soonyoung.”

“I know it’s serious.” The Hwarang, as prim and proper as they like to see themselves a majority of the time, have carried out these sorts of missions before. There wasn’t any way you could stay with them if you hadn’t known, but this burden was too much to bear alone. “If it’s too presumptuous, please tell me, but I consider myself a member of the Hwarang at this point. And because we’re going through this, I want to help however possible.”

“Tell me then, how do you intend to help?” Youngmin’s face has lost its usual warmth. Anger not cruelness takes shape on his expression, but the gravity of the situation at hand seems to age him a handful of years. He seems like a weathered general addressing his troops.

“I want to help with Gongmyung.”

Youngmin seems to stare at you, analyzing your thought process with fierce determination.

“Very well then,” he nods once, “You may accompany us.”

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 9𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Whether out of courtesy or want to humiliate his former leader, Kim Gongmyung accepts Youngmin’s invitation to his home several days after the plan to assassinate him came to be. Kwak Youngmin and Lee Jihoon stand at the head of the room, speaking quietly to one another before the sound of approaching footsteps enters the room. You stand in the corner of the dimly lit area as Gongmyung walks in, an air of proudness about him.

“Why am I honored with the privilege of being summoned here this evening?” Gongmyung asks, looking around the room. “I can surmise you wish to ask me something?”

“I called on you because I was hoping to have a discussion,” Youngmin says with a confident grin, “It’s about the current political climate. You, as well as me, must have seen that we need to come to a consensus on how to move on from here.”

“Let’s save the business talk for later,” Jihoon says, “Let’s try to get warmed up first.”

You move to sit at the small table set up in the center of the room, several bottles of gokaju littering the tabletop. Jihoon reaches out to pour Gongmyung a cup, the latter noting this,

“I never thought I’d see the day where Lee Jihoon pours me a cup of alcohol.”

“Don’t say it like that,” the commander chuckles, “I wasn’t faced with as formal an education as you, it just took me a bit to learn the proper etiquette. We’ve come to realize that you were right this whole time."

“With your politeness, I can’t help but feel a little… off.” Gongmyung notes as he lifts the glass of gokaju, “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

“Don’t trust me?” Jihoon shakes his head, moving to pour himself a cup before downing it quickly. “Not poisoned, am I?” An eyebrow quirked to the Guardian as he set down his glass.

“I never meant to offend—” Gongmyung states and sips from his cup.

The three continue to drink, you pouring most of the glasses, with Gongmyung becoming more and more reddened with the amount of alcohol the two Hwarang and you ply him with.

“Are you familiar with Dong Sicheng’s ‘On the State of Being’?” Gongmyung slurs his words together as he speaks to the two, “On what it means to find peace in the life you were given? That was written twenty years ago! Do you know how much has changed since the fall of Baekje?”

“You’re right,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “The Crown has implemented so many new things that I can’t quite keep up with it myself.”

“So, you agree!” Gongmyung nods vehemently, “And to add to that, they’re looking for help from the Tang to help educate the troops! And dress like them as well!”

“Is that true?” Youngmin asks, looking a bit taken aback.

“Of course, it is, all of my sources are very reliable,” Gongmyung says after downing another cup of gokaju. “If you ask me, this spells out a rocky relationship once this Baekje mess is over. If we leave ourselves with Tang customs, there’ll only be little left of Silla’s own design in its own kingdom!”

“I see…” Jihoon nods. His lips smile as if he agrees but a different, burning fire behind his eyes tells a different tale. “This means we’ll have to rethink a lot of things, right, Chief?”

“You’re right,” the shock that had once lain on Youngmin’s face is gone, replaced with a cheery smile. “Gongmyung, it would be such an honor if you would continue to guide us on such matters in the future.”

“Confucius once said: ‘Gentlemen are undignified if they are frivolous, and they aren’t stubborn after learning.’ So, yes,” Gongmyung nods, “Of course I’ll help you. If you all don’t open your minds to proper knowledge, you’ll just become hard-headed.”

“We may be on different paths, but we are headed for the same destination,” Jihoon nods, “Your glass seems empty, would you like another drink?”

“Yes, please.” Gongmyung motions towards his empty cup, “This gokaju is very easy to drink.”

“Here you are,” you say, pouring some of the contents of the bottle in your grasp into his drink. There isn’t poison within the alcohol, yet you were making Gongmyung drunk now to murder him later. Although this felt no more different than pouring poison into his glass.

“Your hands are shaking,” Gongmyung notes as you manage to drop a few beads of gokaju onto the table as you pull the bottle away from his glass, “You’re not feeling ill, are you?”

“Ah, don’t worry about him, he’s probably just nervous about speaking to you,” Youngmin waves it off with a small laugh.

“Am I that intriguing?” The Guardian chuckles as he looks at you.

“He does have his moments,” Jihoon says, his eyes flickering to you. “You need a little self-control sometimes.” His subtle message is clear: hide your emotions. It had been your choice to be here, the least you can do now is to not screw it up.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Gongmyung and move to wipe up the droplets with your sleeve.

“Oh, don’t be so boring,” Gongmyung laughs, “We’re having fun!”

“Truly a man worthy of distinction,” Youngmin nods as he looks at the man.

“You flatter me,” he sighs out with a smile, “Is there anything else you want to ask me? I can answer anything.”

The minutes turn into hours, Gongmyung is drunk, stumbling to the street as you, Youngmin and Jihoon follow him.

“Thank you for the meaningful conversation,” he says as he spins on his heels, looking towards Youngmin. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“It’s dark out,” Youngmin notes the dimness of the street, “Please be careful on your way back home.”

“There’s no one who would dare kill me in Seorabeol,” Gongmyung almost snickers at the thought, drunkenly sauntering away into the darkness of the city’s streets. You watch his silhouette fade into the blackness, noting that it would be the last time you’d see him alive. A hand on your shoulder has you looking away, turning, and you see Youngmin looking at you.

“…It’s a bitter taste, isn’t it?” The frown on his lips is telling as you sigh.

“It’s the path we chose,” Jihoon shakes his head, “Our duty. In order for us to do what’s right, sometimes we need to get our hands dirty.” You feel conflicted, unable to say anything as you stand on the quiet street. “This isn’t on you or Kwak, though,” the commander says, sensing your unease. “I was the one who orchestrated it, I gave the orders.”

What happened later that night is something you’d rather forget. Gongmyung, too inebriated to walk in a straight line, was quickly killed by the Hwarang waiting for him. But that didn’t end the night. Junhui was met with a bloody fight outside of the Guardians building, Seungkwan was faced with fate at Shoji. For many of the Hwarang, it is a night after which nothing would be the same.

The assassination of Kim Gongmyung and the dissolvement of the Guardians of the Royal Tomb comes to be known as the Samsil Incident. Both the Guardians and the Hwarang were surprised by the sudden appearance of the Royal Guard and the Demons who accompanied them. Both parties had fallen for the trap and the fight was thrown into a mass disarray.

As the battle of Samsil was taking place, the headquarters of the Hwarang came under attack from Hong Jisoo. Causing the already ill Seungkwan to further injure himself fending off the attacker.

The serum that your father brought to the Hwarang seems to only be a cause for worry. Slowly devouring the organization piece by piece. How long until the serum swallows them whole?

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 2𝔫𝔡, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Barely a month since Gongmyung’s murder, since the Samsil Incident and the return of Soonyoung and Hansol, but the Hwarang feels nothing like it once was. A looming, dark atmosphere hangs over the headquarters. Many men had lost their lives or had been injured due to Jisoo’s attack, even more had been wounded in the fight of Samsil, Soonyoung being one of them. Several of the wang-do had seen him almost succumb to the injuries he’d sustained during the battle, due to this, he was pronounced dead but joined the Fury Corps shortly after. Hansol hadn’t been wounded, but many of the Hwarang began to call him a coward.

To them, his betrayal of leaving the Hwarang still runs deep, worsened as they saw him leaving the Guardians to change his fate. You see no reason why he shouldn’t correct them: he’d left to help the Hwarang, not deceive them. He claims that he’ll keep quiet on the matter, as to not tarnish both Youngmin and Jihoon’s names, who had ordered him to join Gongmyung. Due to this, it has been decided that Hansol will leave Shoji for the time being, until the hot-headed tempers of some of the Hwarang recede. He’s been sent to protect Huang Renjun, a Tang noble residing in the northern part of the kingdom.

The Samsil Incident was in no small terms a turning point for the Hwarang. For the men who knew only the surface level details, it seems as if it were just a battle between the Hwarang and their former comrades. Those better informed know that it is the causation due to a culminating fear of another Baekje rebellion. Yoon Jeonghan’s death solidified that as truth. And further still: the Hwarang are the only ones who know of the Demons, and Soonyoung’s transformation into a Fury. They’re the only ones who know Seungkwan’s illness has gotten worse.

Such an event riled the compound, a moment of silence scarce in the days following the battle. Feeling as you would only be in the way during this time, you keep to your room.

You’re sitting cross-legged at your desk, wondering if writing your thoughts down may help you try and conceptualize this all, when your door opens without a knock.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Seungcheol says as he steps into your room. “If you’d left, I wouldn’t have been able to search for you.”

“Seungcheol?” You look up to him, confused at his appearance. “It’s daytime, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Seungcheol nods his head, his voice sounding a little frantic. “I just had a revelation and had to share it with you immediately.” His eyes glitter with… a dangerous curiosity and you feel spindly cold fingers of dread scratch down your back.

“Why me?” Questioning carefully, “Wouldn’t you want to tell the Chief or Commander first?”

“…Well, it has to be you.” A small frown pulling at his lips, “Won’t you listen to me?” Although in the form of a question, the way he asserts himself lets you know you have no choice. “Sooyoung claimed you are from a Demon family, right?” He doesn’t allow you to respond before he begins to speak. “And as a Demon, you’re stronger, faster and more resilient than a human. Their superiority over humans was clearly displayed during their most recent attack.”

“I understand that,” you nod slowly, “But what are you trying to say?”

“A Demon possesses more power than the average human, it follows that the blood of a Demon possesses that power as well,” His deductions begin to unsettle you, despite that, he continues, “Perhaps even potent enough to counteract the madness of the Furies.”

You’re unsure how the pimul works, but Seungcheol’s explanation seems logical, even if he’s somewhat frenetic about it.

“Since before I became a Fury, I’ve been researching how the serum works, I know more about it than anyone here.” Seungcheol pauses and shakes his head, “Yet, I still have yet to discover the exact composition of it. I hypothesize, however, that a core ingredient is fresh blood… And I’m assuming not from a human. Perhaps there are Demons or Demon-like beings roaming throughout the other kingdoms.”

“So…” You trail off, still not able to follow him completely.

Seungcheol takes a step closer to you, falling to his knees as you continue to sit at your desk, “Your very existence could save the Fury Corps… No,” He shakes his head, “The entirety of the Hwarang.” His eyes turn sharp, piercing, even, as he looks at you. The barest trace of mania in his voice as he confesses his thoughts. His hand reaches for the sword at his hip, calmly and carefully drawing it from the scabbard.

There seems to be no madness or bloodlust in his movements, but that only serves to terrify you even more.

“I’m not going to kill you,” He tries to reassure you, but your heart’s beating too quickly and your limbs feel too heavy to move away from him, “I just want a sample of your blood…” Seungcheol begins to rise to his feet, that’s when you find yourself mirroring him, taking a step or two backwards to distance yourself from him.

The blade glimmers in the sunlight as he raises it, raising it towards you before you hear a shout from the hallway.

“Seungcheol, what the hell are you doing?!” Jihoon bursts into the room, quickly looking from the colonel to you as if to gauge the situation. “What’s going on here? Of all people, you should know not to draw your sword on someone in the compound, have you lost it?”

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol smiles when he sees him, “Please, give me a hand here. Convince her to cooperate with us.”

With an assertive quiet, Jihoon steps between you and Seungcheol. “Personal conflicts are forbidden, the O Gye apply to even us.”

The colonel stares at Jihoon for a moment, and then another before begrudgingly sheathing his sword.

“Did she do something to upset you?” Jihoon asks one it seems as if Seungcheol’s cooled down.

“I’m searching for a way to treat the madness caused by becoming a Fury, for the good of us all,” Seungcheol says simply, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.

“And that means you have to cut her?”

“It’s not like I’m going to kill her,” Seungcheol frowns and shakes his head, “I only need a little of her blood. We lost so many Furies during the attacks, many of our human wang-do as well. If we are to effectively use the men we have left— We need to find a way to temper their madness. Surely you understand this, Jihoon.”

“The code says we’re to trust one another,” His gaze hardens at the colonel, “It doesn’t look like she’s very trusting of you right now. No matter your reasoning, I cannot condone this if either party is unwilling, or coerced into submitting.”

“It’s not as if she’s one of the Hwarang,” Seungcheol points out.

“Maybe not, but she’s been here long enough to might as well be one.” The two continue to stare at each other for a while, their stubbornness present at the matter.

Seungcheol eventually sighs, “It isn’t like you to be this soft. I’ll leave for now. But if we don’t find a way to suppress the side effects of the pimul… Even Soonyoung will suffer like the rest.” He leaves on that note, you don’t exhale until you hear his footsteps wane away into nothing.

Jihoon hums, looking at the door and then turning to you, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes,” You nod, “Thank you…”

“Nothing to thank me for,” He bows his head, “I was making sure he was adhering to our code.” His gaze returns to the door, “In the past, he wouldn’t have challenged me like that.”

A slow nod as your eyes find the door, lingering there for a moment. It’s turn, Seungcheol had been acting more and more strange lately. He would never have drawn his sword aggressively, or demanded things from you without consulting the other Hwarang first. “… I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong with you?” Jihoon questions, his attention turning rapt to you, “There isn’t anything to be apologetic for.”

“The reason he was acting like that…” You frown, “Because Jisoo destroyed the Fury Corps.”

Jihoon seems to reflect on this for a moment before responding, “I think you’re confused.”

“Hong Jisoo has allied himself with our enemies, be it in the court or Baekje. If an enemy attacks us, it’s known that we’re going to put our lives on the line to stop them.” There’s conviction in his voice yet you cannot help the guilt that invades you.

“It isn’t your sole duty to protect me, though.”

“What are you trying to say?” His arms cross as he tilts his head, “Want us to hand you over to the Demons in the hopes they’ll spare our lives? Just because they’re more powerful than us? That isn’t how we work.” Jihoon’s confident in his claim, and you feel no way to object to it. Even if he won’t say it, having you leave the compound would make their live exponentially less dangerous, it would be a violation of the values they pride themselves in upholding.

“I’m sorry if what I said was out of line,” apologizing once more, you bow your head.

“I already told you to stop apologizing, don’t make me repeat myself,” He murmurs under his breath, timidly looking in your direction. “The next time something like this happens, tell me. Don’t keep it to yourself.”  

“I understand,” you look at him and nod. Jihoon then turns to leave, but there’s one thing left you have to say.  “Commander…”

He stops and looks back to you, “Is there something else?”

“Is there anything I can help you all with?” With Youngmin busy with the Crown, Hansol protecting Huang and Jihoon himself tirelessly working, you feel wrong not aiding in some way.

“Help?” He sounds almost incredulous. Has he become upset at your question?

“It could be anything…”

The silence stretches throughout the room, saturating the space for a moment.

“You may be more discreet than some of our men…” He seems to muse for a second, “Brush and paper.”

“Huh?” You ask, looking at him with confusion.

“Do you have a brush and paper?” Jihoon asks as he glances around your room.

“Of course,” you reply and quickly rummage around your room for the materials. After a few moments you gather the items and he sits at the desk in your room, staying silent as he quickly begins to draw. It looks to be a rudimentary map of sorts, having you question, “What is… that?” He ignores you and continues to draw.  

“Hansol is in Noseo-dong guarding Huang, right?”

“Right,” you nod, looking down to the paper.

“I want you to visit him,” Jihoon says before gently blowing air onto the ink, hoping to dry it faster. “Do you think you can? You won’t stand out as much as one of our men.”

“Yes, of course,” You say enthusiastically, excited to do something, and even more overjoyed that it’s especially catered to you.

“I drew you a map,” He says, lifting the edges of the paper and handing it to you, “So you don’t get lost.” Without it, you may have, only really knowing the select routes of several of the captains’ patrol when it’s your turn.

“I’ll get going, then.” Taking the parchment into your grasp, you begin to turn on your heels towards the door before the commander stops you.

“It’ll be hard to deliver a message you haven’t heard…” His voice stops you in your tracks and you whip around to face him, “I know it’s been a while since you’ve been out,  but you’re getting a little too excited.”

“I’m sorry!” Exclaiming with widened eyes as you look at him.

As you speak, he quickly writes something down on another piece of parchment, he lets it dry for a moment, carefully folding the paper before handing it to you. “This is a letter for Captain Choi, make sure you don’t drop it… or lose it.”

“I’ll be very careful,” you say as the parchment folds in your grasp, “Is there anything you want me to say to him?”

“Everything I need to say is in that letter,” he nods, glancing at the paper.

“I’ll be off then,” you state and hurriedly leave the room, anxious to begin your mission.

The streets of Seorabeol are busy once again, the crowds closely knit together, not allowing you any space to slide past the throng of bodies. Jihoon’s map, unfolded haphazardly in your hands, guides you to Noseo-dong and leads you through several side streets, winding your way around the district until you come upon one of the most unassuming inns you have ever seen. On the map, Jihoon had written that Hansol’s name should be under ‘Seola’.

Making your way inside, you walk to who you presume to be the innkeeper, you ask to speak with your friend and they’re off, Hansol walking out shortly after.

“A Ha—I mean Seola,” you say with a nod, “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Oh,” he says, almost genuinely surprised, “I didn’t realize they’d send you.”

“I’m sure you weren’t expecting someone as inexperienced,” You give out a short laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head to dismiss your thought, “I was only surprised. I expected to receive new orders soon, but I didn’t expect that you’d be the one to deliver them.”

“Ah, well, I asked if there was anything to do to help and…” You mutter, reaching for the letter you’d tucked away on your belt.

“I can see the commander’s thinking,” Hansol muses and reaches out to take the parchment, “It’s a good plan. Any other Hwarang would’ve drawn unnecessary attention to this place. The new members can’t be trusted yet, either. You, on the other hand, can move unnoticed, and your loyalty is beyond question. He really did make the best choice.”

The captain’s explanation makes you realize how much Jihoon had thought the plan through, not merely giving you the task on a whim.

Hansol then unfolds the letter, scanning its contents before lighting it on a nearby lantern and watching the paper disintegrate into ash on the ground.

“Uh, Captain Choi?” You begin but he cuts you off.

“Seola.”

“Ah, right. Seola,” you retract your words and begin anew, “Is it okay to burn that?”

“I’ve read it and know what it says,” his shoulders shrug, “There’s no reason to leave evidence lying around. Thank you for delivering it.”

By the time you return to Shoji, the sun has already dipped below the horizon, dusk coolly falling onto the compound as the bite of winter sinks its teeth into you. Breath coming out in short puffs only to quell as you enter the main hall, you find the space empty. You’re surprised, hoping to see at least one of the captains loitering around, but none are present. So, you make your way to Jihoon’s quarters to report that you’d succeeded in handing the letter off to Hansol.

“Commander?” You ask, knocking on his door.

“Come in,” you hear after a moment and open the door, stepping into his room. His room still lay adorned with documents as he sits at his desk, the glow of the lantern in the corner of his room providing a shimmering light onto him. “Thank you for taking care of that,” Jihoon says as he looks up to you from his work, “How was Hansol?”

“He’s his usual self,” simply said as he nods his head.

“That’s good,” a sigh and you wonder what’s come over him. His mood seems more sour than when you left him earlier in the day.

“I’m sorry,” you say, unsure of how to go on with your conversation.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrows, “Did you lose the letter? Or did you not even make it to the inn?”

“Nothing like that—”

“Then why did you apologize?”

“I thought you’d be angry since I’d taken so long to get back…” You lead off, eyes breaking from his gaze and settling on the floor.

He sighs, as if relieved what you said wasn’t dire, “I’m not mad at you. It may surprise you that I have other things to worry about than just you.”

“Oh of course,” You say quickly, “I never meant to imply that— ”

Jihoon’s expression softens and he gives a short chuckle, shaking his head as he tries to contain himself. It does warm you a bit, knowing that he isn’t as worked up as you thought him to be.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you so upset earlier?”

“As you know,” he sighs, “there have been some issues in the Hwarang. Things are becoming more strained with the higher-ups as well.

“The higher-ups?”

“Ah, you’re practically one of us so I should tell you,” the happiness from seconds ago fades as his brow furrows, “Word is, Buyeo Pung is on the move again, this time backed by Goguryeo.” Does this mean that there would be a bigger battle than that of Baekgang or Ongsan? Jihoon’s lips purse and he shakes his head, “We’re not sure of their movements until they strike first. Then again, it’s not like worrying about it will do any of us good.” With each sentence, there’s another sigh, knowing the decisions made now will impact the whole of the Hwarang in the future.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Was running off to Noseo-dong not enough for you?” He questions with a piqued eyebrow.

“No… But if the Hwarang need help, I feel more than obliged to lend a hand.”

“You know what?” His eyes linger on his paperwork, “No matter how much you work, you’re different from Hansol, Chan, or Wonwoo. And you wouldn’t be able to do the dirty work that I give Junhui or Mingyu, either. Assigning duties to my men isn’t as easy as I’d like it to be.” Every one of his words feels like a knife to your gut, even if he has a point.

“I understand that I’m not a warrior like the rest of you,” you begin with a deep breath, “But I see how hard everyone is working and it makes me feel bad if I just sit around and don’t do anything.” Head bowing and your eyes looking to the floor, “Just let me help out in any way I can…”

Jihoon sits quietly for a moment before sighing out a “Damn…”, you hear him move to stand, his footsteps nearing you and his hand gently placed under your chin. His hand raises your face until your eyes are locked with his, the proximity of him so close to you sets your skin on fire. The commander’s eyes seem to pierce through you, the intensity churning your stomach.

“You say that you want to help,” he says as you nod your head, his hand still planted under your chin, “Why?” You can’t find the words immediately, and as you think, he speaks again, “Is it because you want to make a name for yourself? Or do you want us to recognize your efforts and reward you accordingly?”

“That’s not it,” confidence riddled in those three words as you speak.

“Then why put yourself through all of this?”

“For everything you all have done for me…” You frown, the pads of his fingertip’s abrasive on the underside of your chin. “There were times you all put your life on the line, people got hurt… The Hwarang have protected me time and time again. I just want to give back. I don’t want to regret anything anymore.”

 Jihoon’s hand falls away from you and he sighs, speaking with a low voice, “Then stop bowing so easily. You think you’re right. Why apologize if you believe yourself to be true?” Your eyes widen at his words, slowly realizing what he’s trying to convey. “If you believe in something then never yield to someone else. Hold your head up high and walk tall, you won’t win if you can’t even see the prize because you’re looking down at your feet.”

His words spark something in you, an understanding of his mindset and attitude towards life. So, you look at him, trying to match your gaze’s intensity with the blooming fires behind his eyes.

“I want to help. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

A small smile flickers onto Jihoon’s lips as he takes a step back from you, “If you want to help so much, how about you make some tea?”

“Alright,” you nod assertively, and the smile lingers on the commander’s face.

“The fate of the Hwarang rests on this tea, you know.”

“Leave it to me!” You say loudly, brushing past him and out of the room, racing as fast as you can towards the kitchen. Yet, before you leave, you can hear Jihoon mumble to himself,

“What’ll happen to us now…”

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 11𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔎𝔦𝔪 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔨𝔪𝔦𝔫’𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Baekje is trying to restore itself once more. News from Goguryeo solidifies King Munmu’s fears a few days into December, after a skirmish breaks out on the Silla-Goguryeo front. At first it was thought to be Goguryeo troops, but with Buyeo Pung leading the charge himself, it’s quickly realized that the kingdom is once again trying to establish itself.

More and more soldiers begin to flock to Seorabeol in anticipation of the oncoming onslaught, purges of Baekje loyalists once again resume and a tension lies in the air as if a cord is about to snap and set everything loose. With each passing day, news comes from the north of the collecting armies, as well as from the east, where former Baekje citizens have begun to rebel against the Silla leadership. As the Crown draws in its allies, seeking out aid from Tang once more, they call upon the Hwarang to aid in the upcoming battle.

The Hwarang reside at Kim Seokmin’s residence, Mingyu’s father’s home a little way outside of the city. While his father remains locked in the capital as plans are drawn, the residence is being used as a base of operations for the Hwarang, and not just those from Seorabeol.

“Everyone!” A voice shouts from the outer courtyard of the home, a wang-do bursting into the main room, sweat dotting their brow and his eyes looking frantic. “The Chief’s been shot!”

There were no witnesses, and the culprit escaped unnoticed. The motives unsure.

“What the hell?” Junhui frowns, “What asshole uses a bow in the city?” The captain leaves the residence shortly after collecting a group of men to survey the scene of where Youngmin had been attacked.

The arrow pierced the leader’s right shoulder, the head lodging into bone and shattering it. It requires more treatment than you can provide.

The sun had gone down when the door to the main room opened again, Seungcheol striding in the room, looking surprised to see you. “You’re still awake?”

“Colonel Choi…” You note, “If you need to use this room I’ll leave.”

“I don’t mind,” he shakes his head, “Rather, I think it’s best that you stay here.” His words are confusing, anxiousness rising in your stomach as you recall the last time you’d been alone with him.

Just as he finishes speaking, the captains of the Hwarang file into the room, somber expressions dotting their faces. Your anxiousness only continues to heighten.

“… Looks like everyone’s here,” Jihoon muses as the door is closed to allow you all a bit of privacy.

“Where’s Seungkwan?” Seungcheol asks, scanning the faces for the missing captain.

“He shouldn’t hear this,” Jihoon shakes his head, “If he learns about Kwak, he wouldn’t think twice about his safety and run off to find vengeance.”

“But if that’s what he wants, why wouldn’t you let him?” Seungcheol points out, “Again, being too kind, Jihoon.”

“What did you want from us?” Mingyu’s voice rises, directed towards the colonel. “We don’t know when the fighting’s going to start, for all of us to be here right now… Don’t tell me—”

“It’s exactly that.” Seungcheol nods. “I asked you to come with the intention of giving you something.” In his hands, you now see, is a bundle of cloth that he slowly unwraps before you all. What you see makes you take in a sharp breath of air.

“Pimul?” Hansol frowns, eyeing the vials of red liquid in the colonel’s hands.

“As captains of the Hwarang, we took on the risks of researching this,” a slow nod, “In doing so, it’s necessary for us to take responsibility for this experiment. Especially if any of you become injured and unable to fight. Or in the worst case, there’s a possibility that you may lose your own life.” Moving the vials to one hand, he picks up one in his other and examines it in the lantern light of the room, “I know for certain that this serum will be of use to you.”

“Colonel…” Junhui says slowly, “Are you trying to experiment on us too?”

“I know your hesitation,” Seungcheol snips, dropping the vial back into the pile with an audible clink, “But under our current circumstances, we cannot afford to lose any more of our captains.”

“Fuck that,” Junhui frowns, “I don’t want to depend on that shit to survive.” With that, he storms past the group of captains with heavy footfalls, swinging open the door before leaving.

“Maybe this would be something of a good luck charm…” Eunseok suggests, his eyes warily looking over the vials. “I hope it never comes to the point where we use the serum.” Seungcheol extends the pile to the captains.

“I don’t think I’ll use it,” Mingyu murmurs as both he and Hansol pick up a vial, “but I’ll keep it just in case…”

Until this moment, Jihoon had remained silent, listening to Seungcheol’s speech.

“Take responsibility, huh?” Eyes looking troubled, the commander reaches for a vial and pockets it, almost as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge its presence, “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“I believe that’s all I have to say for tonight.” Seungcheol nods as he folds the now empty cloth, “I hope this courtesy doesn’t go to waste.” After he finishes, the captains slowly file out, leaving you alone with Seungcheol once more.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this,” He sighs and looks to you, “But don’t let any word of this reach the other Hwarang, do I make myself clear?”

Nodding your head timidly, the colonel stays for another moment before leaving.

The serum that your father created now lies in the hands of the Hwarang captains. The serum that had entrenched them into the world of Demons and a life they should never have had to think about.

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 16𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔎𝔦𝔪 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔨𝔪𝔦𝔫’𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “We still haven’t figured out who shot the Chief?”

“I bet you anything it was some of those Guardian bastards!”

“No way, it was probably the Baekje loyalists—”

Ever since the attack on Kwak Youngmin, the atmosphere at Kim Seokmin’s residence had been wrought with speculation and tension. This tension ever more present as you step into the main room with a tray of tea for the captains.

“Thanks,” Mingyu says as you enter, “Can you just leave it here?”

A nod as you set down the tray, it seems as if you’d walked in on an important discussion.

“What’s the plan, then?” Junhui questions whomever he’d been speaking to. “Gaozong wants power in exchange for helping us, but they’re also hoping not to get as involved as they were at Baekgang. They know a war’s coming and they’re trying to extort Munmu for all he’s worth.”

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong,” Jihoon sighs out from the head of the table. “There’s nothing you or I could do about that though. We follow the Crown and not Gaozong.”

“In regard to sending our men to the front line…” Wonwoo speaks up, “Colonel Choi’s been pushing to implement the Furies.”

“I disagree with that,” Mingyu frowns, “This is war, not a massacre. There’s going to be both enemies and allies on the field, we won’t be able to control them. It’s not that they’re not powerful, it’s just too risky.”

“Agreed,” Junhui nods, crossing his arms as he leans back in his seat, “And inhumane too.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Hansol questions, looking at the captain. “If you’re so vehemently against it, you should offer an alternative.”

“We’re working on that.” Junhui grumbles, his voice raising, “If it were so easy do you think we’d be in this mess?”

“Commander,” Wonwoo looks at Jihoon, “What do you think?”

“… Let me think.” A deep exhale from Jihoon as he straightens himself in his seat, “We need to know the movements of Baekje before anything else, as well as prioritize what the Crown wants and, inadvertently, what Tang wants as well.” With the war inching closer and Youngmin’s injury, everyone in the Hwarang had been and is still on edge.

You leave the meeting sometime after then, never finding out what solution the men had come to. Later in the day, as the sun sinks over the horizon, you find yourself at Seungkwan’s door, anxious to check on his condition.

“Captain Boo?” You ask, gently opening the door and stepping inside, “How are you—huh?” Upon entering, you find that Soonyoung had come along to keep the captain company as well.

 “What are you doing up so late?” Soonyoung asks as he looks to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well um… people may get the wrong idea if a girl visits a man’s room at night…” The young captain trails off, obviously flustered.

“You know that Seungkwan and I aren’t…”

Soonyoung laughs, “Yeah, yeah… That’s not really your kind of thing, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’?” Soonyoung snickers, “Come on…”

“Why are you here?” Seungkwan, not seeming to be in a playful mood, cuts into the conversation, “I assume you have a reason for visiting me?”

“Oh, yes, well… I came to check up on you.” Returning to the reason you’d come in the first place, you look to the captain, “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can get you?”

“Of course not,” his expression bitter, “Look at what’s going on.” After a moment of silence, he speaks to you, “Is that all? You can go now.” His aggression taking you by surprise, you falter for another moment before coming to your senses to bring up what had been bothering you.

“Do you all know?” Another pause, “That Colonel Choi wants to… use the Furies.”

“Of course…” The grin that was adorning Soonyoung’s face drops.

“If you were him,” Seungkwan sighs, “Wouldn’t you want to do the same? They need numbers or they’ll never make a name for themselves. I mean, it’s a given once they can’t function anymore, they’ll need to be cut off.”

“Cut off…”

“We’re not all good-doers,” the captain shakes his head, “we can’t go around giving food to everyone we see who needs it. I mean, yeah, you mooched off of us for years, but that was entirely your good luck. Don’t forget that.”

“I guess you have a point…”

“Seungkwan you’re being a bit of a jackass,” Soonyoung frowns at the other captain. “It was our fault she was brought to the Hwarang.”

Seungkwan sneers at the statement, clearly unmoved, he continues his grievances. “And what the hell is Jihoon doing? He should be kicking himself in the ass for not apprehending the men that hurt Kwak.” A frustrated sigh, “If I weren’t—If I weren’t like this, I’d go out and do it myself.”

His bedrest is clearly getting to him. He’d known Youngmin, long before either of them had joined the Hwarang.

“What do you think, Soonyoung?” A glance towards the other as you ask.

“Me? I, uhm, well…” He hums, “I did drink the serum but… I was worried about what would happen to me. Seungcheol wants more men in the Fury Corps, and says we’ll never win otherwise. But I don’t like the idea of forcing the Hwarang to join us, even if they’ve broken our code.” The demeanor he has is unlike the one you remember from when you’d first met him, it’s cold and stern. Recalling how he used to be, sadness overcomes you.

“No matter what Seungcheol says, it’s Jihoon that makes the call.” Seungkwan says, crossing his arms.

“You’re right.” Soonyoung says, a frown pulling at him, “But the Corps already exists, it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t.”

“Then maybe we should use them, then.” Seungkwan mumbles, “They can hold a sword, at least.”

The power of the Furies is something that would ultimately be beneficial to the Hwarang, should they need to utilize their power for the war effort. Yet, once the war was over… You struggle to think of what would be done with them after. Fearing the answer, you don’t press the matter further.

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 17𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔎𝔦𝔪 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔨𝔪𝔦𝔫’𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It should be no surprise to you by now that an unexpected visitor, be it friend or foe, should stop in on you at any time now. Such an occasion occurs, with a friend, this very morning.

“It’s been too long,” Sooyoung’s voice calls out to you as you walk outside the front gate of the Kim residence, one of the captains had alerted you to her and Seulgi’s presence and you came as quickly as you could.

“What brings you here?” You ask, an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“We have business with your leader, could you go and get him for us?” Seulgi responds, glancing towards the interior doors of the home.

“Oh… the Chief isn’t really in good condition to meet with people, I could go and get the Commander—”

“That’ll do fine as well,” Sooyoung nods with a smile before you’re off to summon Jihoon.

After you’d let the two women inside, as well as summon the commander, the four of you stand in the main hall. Jihoon looks over the two warily before crossing his arms, “This is unexpected, to say the least. What do you want?”

“I apologize for intruding again, but it’s important that I speak to you.” Sooyoung begins, her expression turning stony as she speaks to the commander, “I’ve come to discuss your… Furies.”

You’d been about to excuse yourself to make tea for the group, but upon hearing Sooyoung’s statement, you freeze in place. Jihoon seems to tense as well, a downward curvature of his lips etching into his face. “I won’t waste your time or mine—how long do you intend to keep them in your service?”

“What do you mean?” Crossed arms, stern gaze, the signs that Jihoon is on the defensive yet again.

“You’ve kept them imprisoned here long enough; I think you know what I’m saying.” Her words turn bitter midway through her statement, “Even the Crown has admitted to this failed experiment. They are too much for the Hwarang to handle. With Jisoo on your trail, it would be best for you to wash your hands of them.”

“Is it up to you to decide if they’re a failure or not?” Jihoon questions, letting out a sigh, “We’ve done our research, I’m not sure you have the authority to judge us.”

“Then are you aware that the Hwarang’s Furies have been murdering people on the streets to test their strength?” Seulgi asks, her gaze narrowing at Jihoon.

His eyes go wide, muttering a “What?” before looking at her. For a split second, his veneer of put togetherness fades and confusion and worry situates itself on his brow. And then it’s gone, his composure returning and frown reappearing.

“Where did you hear that?”

“There’s no reason for me to tell you…” Seulgi states, “My sources are reliable, and that’s all you need to know. Your job is to protect Seorabeol, is it not? And yet you let your men who’ve succumbed to madness wander its streets and kill its civilians. It disgusts me, Commander.” Her eyes bore into Jihoon’s, “Before all of Silla knows of your failure, I strongly suggest you disband your Fury Corps.”

Her logic is sound, no matter how scathing she is towards the Furies. The room falls silent, you can almost hear Jihoon’s thoughts racing in his head.

Sooyoung stops him, however, speaking up, “We can quiet this conversation for a moment, there’s something else I would like to address.” With that, she looks to you, “Will you still not leave with us?” The question simple, her eyes wide, “I know we spoke of this before, but with the current climate… I fear your safety here is jeopardized more and more with each passing day.”

 You know that war is coming, everyone in the room does. Yet to hear Sooyoung insinuate it adds even more weight to it all.

“Are you suggesting that we can’t handle it?” Jihoon says, anger tinged by his words.

“The truth is hard to accept sometimes,” Sooyoung turns to him, “If Hong Jisoo shows up, can you protect her? If he comes while you’re amid battle to take her away, can you protect her then?” She’s angry, her tone rising as the commander stays quiet, “She’s a Demon, not a human. She should be with her kind; we can protect her.” Looking back to you, she pleads, “If you’re with us then their entire effort can go towards the war and battles to come.”

Each word is a blow to your chest, guilt wrought upon you for even thinking that your presence among the Hwarang wasn’t detrimental to them. Meeting with Jihoon’s gaze says nothing, he averts his eyes as you’re left to make a decision.

You’re sure Sooyoung is right, yet you can’t find the words to say that.

“What do you say?” Sooyoung asks, her voice returning to a normal, soft level. You know she wants what’s best for you, even if her means aren’t the kindest towards those you’ve begun to hold dear to you.

Jihoon, however, sees right through you.

“You don’t want to leave, do you?” The question is simple as it leaves him, and he knows your answer before you even say it. “Then don’t, stay. There isn’t much else to think about if your mind’s already set.”

“Is that really okay?” The implication behind you staying is far more dangerous than that of you leaving. Is Jihoon saying that he wants you to stay?

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” He shakes his head, “What proof do we have that they can keep your secret any better than we can? If that bastard’s after you too—Well, if we’ve got the same enemy, wouldn’t it make sense to stick together?”

“So… I can stay?”

“What kind of question is that?” Voice gruff as he huffs out, “If you were as much of a pain in the ass as you think yourself to be, I would’ve kicked you out years ago.”

A smile, small and timid, curling your lips, “Thank you, Commander.”

The four of you disperse moments later, you leading Sooyoung and Seulgi to the front gate of the home before the first woman stops you just as you reach the gate.

“So,” she says with an apologetic tone, “You’ve turned me down again, haven’t you?”

“I appreciate your offer,” a nod of your head, “but my place is here.”

“It’s alright,” another apologetic smile, “If you’re so determined to stay then there’s no way I would’ve gotten you to leave with me… And… When you told me that you were staying because you were, ah, interested in someone, did you mean the Commander?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question.

“To be honest,” you begin, the toe of your shoe scraping atop the dirt of the ground, breath coming out in puffs of white air, “I don’t know him all too well, but…” The words stutter out of you, not sure how to explain yourself or because you, too, cannot comprehend your feelings towards the Hwarang. “The men here call him the Demon Commander because of his harshness and strict nature, a lot of people think he’s cold because of that… But I think it’s his way of showing kindness, there’s warmth there that isn’t seen too often yet…” You don’t realize that you’re rambling as you continue, “He’s responsible for most of the Hwarang, it’s not like he has a choice whether he can act like that or not, either. I’m not sure what I can do for him, but I’d like to stay and do whatever I can.”

“He really has you wrapped around his finger,” Sooyoung hums to herself, “Not that I think he sees that, though…” After giving her a confused look, she continues, “They say my ancestor fell in love with a human and followed him to the capital. I'm their granddaughter so I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from… Rank and circumstance, whether human or Demon, mean little before the eyes of love.”

Wait. Wait… “What?” You squeak out, “Love?! I never—Sooyoung, I never said I love him.”

Her hand only finds your shoulder as she sighs and continues, “A human and a Demon, there’s something romantic about that, I think… Don’t think it’s destined to fail, either.”

“Sooyoung…” Seulgi calls out, probably to save you from dying of embarrassment, “We should get going.”

“Ah,” her hand lifted from your shoulder, “You’re right.” The Demon looks to you, “Take care of yourself, please. Don’t underestimate Hong Jisoo, he’s more powerful than I’d like to imagine.” A slow nod as she sighs, “If you need to contact me, please send a letter to Seulgi.”

“Thank you, Sooyoung.” And with that, the pair are gone through the front gate. Your mind, however, lingers on Sooyoung’s words. Rank and circumstance mean little before the eyes of love… But was your desire to be close to Jihoon that? You want to be around him, to help him… The most important thing for him is the Hwarang, he’d invested his life into this organization, and put everything he is into it. With war on the horizon, he doesn’t have the time to think of anything else.

As dusk descends on the compound, you find that the men of the Hwarang are ravenous. You would expect nothing less from men who spend their days training and patrolling and spend their nights doing the same as well. Any food given is gone as soon as it reaches their plate and you offer any that you have, finding yourself forgoing dinner tonight in favor of a younger member of the Hwarang getting a meal.

With pangs of hunger rattling through you, you decide to stave it off by going to the kitchens to either drink some water or make yourself some tea. Your hands gently clenching at your stomach as you walk, you almost don’t hear the voice behind you.

“Was that your stomach?” Turning, you see the Hwarang’s Commander stopped to look at you, “I know the wang-do ate all of the food, did they not leave you any?”

“I’ll eat later,” you nod, fingers still at your sides as you try to stop another growl from escaping your gut. “I’m alright.”

“I didn’t ask if you were alright,” arms folded across his chest, “I asked if you’ve eaten.”

“Well, um,” a shake of your head, “no, not yet.”

“Really,” he huffs, almost incredulously, as he reaches for the bag slung around his shoulder. He rummages around inside of it for a moment before grabbing something and tossing it to you. Unwrapping it from the cloth, you find that it’s one of  the balls of rice that you’d made for the captains.

“Commander, this is yours—”

“Just eat it,” he grits his teeth and the two of your gazes settle on the disputed food. After a moment of silence, he sighs and moves to break it in half, “Don’t tell me you’re rejecting my kindness… If we halve it will it make you feel better?” Taking his half in his free hand, he offers the other chunk out to you.

You grab your half, “… Thank you.”

The two of you eat in silence, before Jihoon speaks again, “Stop worrying so much about the other men and eat what you deserve. Okay?”

“I’ll be sure to do that next time…” you nod as your hand drops to your side after finishing the food.

“I wasn’t trying to lecture you,” Jihoon’s voice goes soft before muttering, “… thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll let the men eat what they want and get my own food another time,” you shake your head, “They need it more than me—”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” he coughs to clear his throat, “I meant to say thanks for staying. You decided to stay with us.”

Was the commander happy that you decided not to go with Sooyoung?

“What’s with the funny face?” The commander asks and you feel a swell of emotion come over you. “Was that not enough food?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, “It was fine.”

Jihoon nods as he tucks the cloth back into his bag and looks towards the entrance of the home, “I’m going to leave you in charge for now before I go out on my rounds. Take care of this place, okay?” There’s a small smile on his lips as he asks you.

“Of course,” you say, returning the smile. And with that, the commander turns on his heels and strides out of the front entrance to the home, heading off to his duties in Seorabeol.