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m1ckeyb3rry · 10 months ago

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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // ONE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You meet Mai, Ty Lee, and Prince Zuko.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at writing for atla despite how long ago i watched it and how much i’ve written since then HAHAH. tbh i don’t expect much to come of it but oh well we’ll see how it goes!! also this is an alternate universe — the extent of which things have been changed will become more apparent as we go along. also apologies in advance if anyone is ooc, i haven’t watched atla in forever so idk if i’ll get it right!

There was a pile of glass on the nightstand when you woke up. It glimmered in the light, the fire refracting on the shards and forming tiny little rainbows on the wooden floor. Rusty streaks stained the faceted tips, though, and you winced as you tried to imagine how that quantity of blood could’ve made its way there.

“It’s yours,” a girl said. You startled, for you hadn’t noticed her presence, but it seemed like that had been her plan. She stood in the corner, her clothes a dull maroon, her hair glossy black and eyes a sharp, dark shade. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she regarded you, but her face was otherwise smooth, betraying nothing.

“Mine?” you said, voice cracking from disuse. “What do you mean? The — the blood?”

“And the glass,” she affirmed. “In some sense, anyways. Some of the pieces, we had to pull out of you, and others were apparently just lying around where you were found. At least, that’s what Zuko said. I’m still not quite sure why he went and collected it all to bring back, though…”

You squinted at the glass, trying to find some familiarity in it, but there was none. You had no idea why you would be surrounded by it, nor why it would be embedded in you. The girl waited for a second, but when you did not speak, she scoffed.

“Sorry,” you said automatically.

“We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for so long,” she said, an accusatory note entering her voice. “Zuko refuses to say anything, and it’s not like we can bully the crown prince himself into telling us what happened, so you’ve been our only chance at figuring everything out.”

“Oh,” you said, a migraine building behind your forehead as you tried to go through the events that had led to your presence here, in this austere room, on this plush mattress. “I — I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” she repeated drearily. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I really don’t. I’m telling the truth.”

In fact, you were rapidly coming to the conclusion that you didn’t know anything. Your childhood, your family, your home…there was nothing. Where your memories ought to be was a bleak stretch like night, barely interrupted by flashes of blue. You reached for that blue, for that lovely shade like sapphire, but it was always just out of your grasp, something you could never quite touch no matter how much you wanted to.

“How about I tell you what I know, and we go from there?” she said. You nodded, though you were only half paying attention to her. The rest of you was fighting back a panic that threatened to twist your insides, a dread that was rotting through you, both sensations borne from the fear that you would never remember anything again.

“Prince Zuko was banished from the Fire Nation and told only to return once he found the Avatar,” she said. “He found him eventually, found him many times in fact, but he wasn’t able to capture him. It’s irrelevant, though — he did do something just as impossible. That is to say, he infiltrated Ba Sing Se.”

You thought that you were probably supposed to be awed by this, but considering you had zero idea what any of it meant, you just felt further confused. Still, you smiled at her, hoping she would keep talking until something or another made sense.

“Fire Lord Ozai couldn’t ignore the opportunity. He sent an army to the prince’s aid, and under his command, they managed to destroy the Earth Palace and depose the royal family. The Earth Kingdom’s in shambles, and all but the most secretive resistance efforts have vanished,” the girl, who had still not introduced herself, continued.

“I don’t see what this has to do with me,” you said, ducking your head.

“Neither do the rest of us,” she said. “That’s what you were supposed to know. For some reason, the fact is that upon returning from Ba Sing Se, the prince had your body in tow. You were wrapped in so many bandages we couldn’t tell what you were at first, and then we thought you must be closer to a corpse than anything, but he insisted you were alive, and that we had to heal you.”

“The prince himself did such a thing?” you said. Even you understood what the magnitude of that title meant, what kind of person a prince was bound to be. And if that was the case, if this mysterious Zuko really was the prince of an entire nation, then why would he have sullied his victory with care for the brutalized body of a random girl?

“He did,” the girl said. “It was the first thing he saw to. Not the reclamation of his crown, but that you were being treated with the best technologies the Fire Nation has to offer. Don’t you think it’s strange? Worthy of investigation? Don’t you agree that we should be curious about what significance you have?”

“Yes, um, naturally,” you said, taken aback by the rapid-fire line of questioning. Despite her initially bland facade, she was surprisingly intense, relentless, even, the stark contrast between the two personalities enough to make you curl inwards.

“Maybe he loves you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at you, inspecting you critically. “I suppose it’d certainly be an explanation, though it wouldn’t give us any clues about who you are or why he might love you in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you said, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. “I don’t even know my own name, let alone whether I was in love with someone.”

“Don’t even know your own name?” the girl said, raising her eyebrows. “You really are pathetic. I’m impressed.”

“I can’t remember anything specific about my life. I know general things, of course. The color of the sky. The way the moon looks. But the history of the world, my own existence…these are things I cannot recall,” you said.

She appraised you with the beginnings of something like sympathy flickering in her irises. Clenching her jaw and deciding upon something, she straightened her back and turned to the door.

“I should tell Zuko you’re awake,” she said. “That’s what he told us to do, the instant you regained consciousness. I’ve put it off long enough.”

“Wait!” you said. “What’s your name?”

She glanced at you over her shoulder. You blinked at her, willing her to understand — that before you could meet this prince, you had to know something. Even if it was only as small as this girl’s name, you wanted to have at least one thing in your head, a word or other such piece of knowledge that you could cling to, that you could form a barrier around your mind with.

“Mai,” she said. She did not elaborate before slamming the door shut behind her, but it was enough for you. There was this one constant now — you knew a girl, and her name was Mai.

As you waited for Mai to return with the prince, you busied yourself with inspecting the room you were quartered in. You had mistakenly called it austere due to the lack of decorations hung up, but now that you had the chance to look closely, you noticed that the wall itself was covered with intricate, swirling designs engraved by a firm, steady hand. The blanket that had been drawn up around your shoulders and was now puddled around your hips was made of silk and stuffed with feathers, and its quality was such that it all but shimmered. This was not the kind of room that just anybody stayed in; it was a room fit for someone of high rank. A lady. And a lady you were not, yet here you sat, in this room that made you feel entirely out of place.

Only a few minutes had passed before the door slammed open, but it was not Mai nor any sort of prince who entered. It was another girl, as bubbly and cheery as Mai had been cool and collected. She beamed when she saw you sitting up and looking around, bounding over to place her hands on your shoulders.

“Hi! Hi, hi, I’m so glad you’re awake!” she said. You tried to smile back at her, but the exuberance was so jarring that you could not do anything but brace yourself against it.

“Thank you,” you managed to say as she shook you. “Who are you?”

“Ty Lee!” she said. You noticed that she had a habit of ending every sentence with her voice ticking up in delight, like she was perpetually thrilled with the world. It was even more of a contrast to Mai than you had anticipated, and you felt your head spinning as you tried to keep up with the differences.

“Did I know you before?” you said. She cocked her head.

“Huh? No, I have no idea who you are, just like you have no idea who I am. You sure are pretty, though! Even prettier when you’re not all passed out,” she said, miming fainting before beaming at you expectantly. You tried to laugh, but it was an awkward sound, clearly unconvincing.

“The same to you,” you said. “Er. Obviously, aside from the part about passing out.”

“Obviously!” she said. “Now, just stay very still, okay?”

You froze in place immediately, wondering what she was going to do but trusting that it would not be anything harmful. Or, perhaps trusting wasn’t quite the right word for it — you just had no choice but to obey, because you had no other metric for what was correct. Whether Ty Lee wanted to help or harm you, you couldn’t know for sure, but either way she would do something, and since she was only the second person whose face you had seen, you had to let her do it.

She jabbed her pointer fingers into your neck, side, and wrists, all in a quick, precise succession. You waited for something to happen, but there was nothing, and when she raised her eyebrows at you, you could only furrow your own in a non-answer.

“Felt nothing?” she said. You nodded in the affirmative. “Interesting.”

“Was I supposed to?” you said.

“I dunno!” she said. “I guess we’ll see once the others get here.”

“What do the others have to do with it?” you said. At this, she winked and raised her fingers to her lips, as if you two were sharing some silly secret.

“If I tell you, then that’ll ruin things! We can discuss it later, but for now, you have to keep it to yourself, okay?” she said.

“Why?” you said. It wasn’t accusatory; you were genuinely curious.

“Let’s just say that certain parties would not be pleased if they found out what I was doing,” she said, giggling nervously and glancing at the door. “And those parties aren’t the kind you really want to offend, so please just keep your mouth shut!”

“Don’t want to offend? Who, like Prince Zuko?” you said.

Before Ty Lee could respond, there was a knock at the door. She scrambled away from you, so that she was standing in the same corner Mai had been in, looking demure and respectful. It was like she had never spoken to you in the first place, and when she had arranged herself suitably, she motioned towards the door.

“Me?” you said.

“Yes, you!” she said. “It’s your room, isn’t it?”

“I would hardly know,” you reminded her. She considered this before making a face in agreement.

“Right, there is that fact. Anyways, yes. This isn’t a hospital wing or anything, it’s your room, which means that when someone knocks, it’s up to you to tell them if they can come in or not,” she said.

“You didn’t knock,” you said. Ty Lee cleared her throat.

“Ah, well, I’m from a Fire Nation family! People of higher rank are allowed to do things like barging in on others,” she said. “I can’t tell you the amount of times Princess Azula has stormed into my room without warning.”

“I see,” you said, mostly because you didn’t know who Princess Azula was or why she merited mention. “This must be a servant or something, then, considering they’re knocking on even my door.”

“Probably,” Ty Lee said. There was another knock, louder this time, and you swore under your breath as you realized you had forgotten to answer them.

“Come in!” you said, folding your hands in your lap and looking over at the doorway, wondering who it could possibly be.

To your surprise, it was a boy. He was dressed in fine armor, his dark hair tied back in a regal topknot, his features angular and his eyes a sharp gold. His face was set in a frown, but when he saw you, you thought you picked up on the faintest trace of happiness. Almost immediately, though, it was quashed by a scowl, so that you could not be quite sure if you had actually seen it or if you had just been imagining things.

Behind him was Mai, looking as bored as she had earlier, though she seemed marginally more excited to see Ty Lee than she had been when you had woken up. You supposed they must’ve been friends or something.

“You should bow,” Mai said, directing the statement at you.

“No way!” the boy said immediately, waving his hands in dissent before you could even move. “I mean, ah, she doesn’t have to do that. It’s fine.”

“Woah! That’s crazy, Zuko, normally you’re all about honor and tradition and whatnot!” Ty Lee said. “It’s strange to hear something like that coming from you.”

So this was Prince Zuko, the boy who had, for some reason, saved your life. He was the only one who knew anything about your past. Your name, your identity, your origin…if you wanted to know any of these things, then your best chance at finding them stood before you, gazing at you with an inscrutable expression.

“Your royal highness,” you said, not bothering to get out of bed but dipping your head in what you hoped was a sign of respect anyways. He coughed awkwardly.

“Um. Yes,” he said.

“So,” Mai observed from the spot she had taken beside Ty Lee, “she’s awake now.”

“I see that,” Prince Zuko said. Mai rolled her eyes.

“Will you tell us who she is? Or why you insisted on saving her, maybe?” she said.

“Why don’t you ask her?” he said. “She’d know as well as I would. Maybe better.”

“I already tried,” Mai said. The prince’s scowl deepened, the corners of his mouth tugging further downwards at the offhand statement, his eyes flicking to you before returning to Mai.

“Of course you did,” he said. “And what did she say?”

“Nothing,” Mai said.

“She doesn’t remember anything,” Ty Lee said. “Not even her own name. You’re the only one left who can tell us anything about her.”

Something in Prince Zuko’s demeanor shifted at that moment. A despairing anger warred with resignation and defeat, but below the surface, some other emotion was hidden, kept locked tightly away, something that he was suppressing, so that no one could dare to even attempt to comprehend it.

“I see,” he said. “Is that the case?”

He was asking you. You did not look at him when you responded, focusing on the pile of glass still stacked on the nightstand.

“Yes,” you said. “Your royal highness. It’s the case.”

Prince Zuko considered this, and for a moment, there was an eerie silence in the room, as you all waited to hear what he would say. Who were you? Would he finally disclose it, or would you be further stranded in the darkness?

“Ursa,” he said finally.

“Your mother?” Mai said. He shook his head.

“No, not her. It’s — um, it’s her. Her name,” he said, jutting his chin in your direction.

“She has the same name as your mother,” Mai said flatly.

“Yes,” he said.

Ursa. That was your name. You didn’t feel some great reclamation of your identity upon hearing it; in fact, it meant nothing to you, except that at some point, people must have called you that.

“Is that why you saved her?” Ty Lee said. “Because she has the same name as your mother?”

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s exactly why.”

“Really? We thought you might’ve been in love with her or something,” Mai said. “I guess this is in character enough, though.”

“How’d you find someone with a Fire Nation name in Ba Sing Se, though?” Ty Lee said. Prince Zuko gave her an irritated look; she only gazed at him innocently until he sighed and looked away.

“She had been taken prisoner on the front lines and brought to Ba Sing Se to be, er…tortured. For — for Fire Nation secrets,” he said.

“Why would they think an ordinary girl would have Fire Nation secrets?” Mai said.

“It’s not like Fire Nation citizens are easy to kidnap!” he snapped. “She might not know any vital information about the nation, but it was probably better than nothing!”

“Well, sorry for asking,” Mai said, rolling her eyes at him once again. It seemed her fuse was particularly shorter when it came to him, not that it had ever appeared to be particularly long to begin with.

“Do you think they got anything out of her?” Ty Lee said, in a not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject and break the tension. Prince Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” he said.

“I guess not. Not now that Ba Sing Se is ours and the rest of the Earth Kingdom has all but fallen,” Ty Lee said.

“Right. Even if they found out anything from her, it didn’t help them in the end,” he said.

“What should we do with her?” Ty Lee said. “Poor girl, she doesn’t even know her lefts from her rights!”

“Uh, I do know that much…” you interjected. Ty Lee paid you no mind, continuing to speak to Prince Zuko like you weren’t there.

“She can’t live in the palace like this forever!” she said. “But she’s like a blind little child, alone in the world. Where can she even go?”

Prince Zuko looked at you, and then he exhaled heavily. You swallowed, waiting for his judgment, knowing that he now held your life in his hands, wondering what he would decide, wondering what fate was in store for you. For Ursa. Since you both were one and the same, after all.

“Send her to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. They’ll teach her what she needs to know to be a proper Fire Nation girl,” he said.

“She’s not a noblewoman, though,” Mai said.

“Do you think the headmistress will argue with me if I say I want her admitted?” Prince Zuko shot back, though there was a tinge of insecurity, a questioning undercurrent, like he really wasn’t sure if he would get away with it or not.

“Nope,” Ty Lee said. “But do you think she — Ursa — can handle it? I mean, we were there, right, Mai? You remember how it was.”

“It’s a tough environment,” Mai agreed. You could tell what she was thinking: what place did a girl who came to the palace covered in bandages and glass, in the arms of a once-banished prince, have in a royal academy? “She’ll be eaten alive there.”

“And what if someone challenges her to an Agni Kai?” Ty Lee said. “Do you think she could win that? Is she that good at bending?”

“She’s not a Firebender,” Prince Zuko said.

“Why was she on the front lines if she’s not even a Firebender?” Mai said before pausing. “Never mind. I don’t feel like listening to your dramatics when you explain. But, you know, she’ll struggle that much more without bending to protect her.”

Prince Zuko’s face settled into a pensive mask of thought before he lit up, brandishing his pointer finger as if he’d come up with the idea of the century. Mai did not look amused, though Ty Lee seemed fascinated by what he might say.

“Ty Lee! You ran away from school to join the circus, right?” he said. Ty Lee went from looking fascinated to nervous, but she nodded.

“Yes, but I’m back now, so I don’t know why you’re bringing that up,” she said.

“My sister doesn’t have any immediate need for you,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Maybe it’s time you finally finish your education for good.”

“You want me to go back to the Royal Fire Academy?” Ty Lee repeated. Prince Zuko nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. You can watch out for her,” he said, jabbing his pointer finger at you.

“What will Azula say?” Ty Lee said.

“It’ll be fine,” Mai said. “If she needs you, you can just take a vacation from school or something. It’s better that you do this than laze around the palace.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you said quietly, speaking up of your own volition for the first time. “To anyone. I’m just grateful that you saved me, Prince Zuko. The rest of it is unnecessary. You don’t need to force the royal academy to accept me, and you don’t need to make Ty Lee come just to watch out for me. It’s enough that I’m alive. I can make my own life from here.”

“You don’t know anything. How can you expect to make a new life when you don’t even remember the one you’ve had until this point?” he said.

“I suppose there might be some benefit to Ursa going to school,” Mai added. “As long as she can survive the academy, it’ll be good for her. She can get caught up on everything she doesn’t remember, and it’ll be in an environment where her classmates are the children of the Fire Nation elite, so she can make further connections with people in high places.”

“Maybe she can find someone who has a brother she can date!” Ty Lee said, swooning.

“No!” Prince Zuko said. You all gave him strange looks; when he noticed, he turned a red as bright as his garb. “It wouldn’t be proper. You know, since you’ll be attending in my name and all; if you date anyone, it’ll reflect on me. So you can only date the people I approve of.”

“Alright. If that’s what you think is best,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to make things difficult for the boy who had, by all accounts, saved your life.

“I do,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Mai said from the corner. “You know, Ty Lee, this reminds me of when Azula took us to the zoo that one time.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it does!” Ty Lee said, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prince Zuko said.

“Is there a zoo nearby?” you said. “I don’t remember ever going to one. I’d like to visit, if it’s possible.”

“I’ll take you!” Ty Lee said. “When we have a break from school and classes and all.”

“So you’ll go with her?” Prince Zuko said. Ty Lee huffed.

“I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Besides, I’m sure Azula will be happy to hear I’m pursuing my education in my downtime instead of just doing nothing. And you know I’d do anything to make her happy!” she said before cartwheeling over to where you were still situated in your bed, throwing her arms around you affectionately. “We’re going to be classmates, Ursa!”

“I look forward to it,” you said genuinely. Ty Lee tapped you on the forehead.

“Me too!” she said.

“You are?” Mai said. “I don’t remember you ever liking the school, Ty Lee.”

“I don’t,” she said, abruptly wilting. “Everyone was so mean there. But my parents will probably be happy, and at least I’ll get to spend more time with Ursa! Maybe I’ll be the only one around when she regains her memories, and I’ll get to hear her story in her own words first.”

“For the sake of the prince’s mental wellbeing, let’s hope that’s not the case,” Mai said. Prince Zuko did not even respond, too busy inspecting the glass on your bedside to rise to the barb.

“Fine, then,” he said. “Make sure she’ll have everything she needs to attend the academy.”

“Which one of us was that pleasantly worded command directed towards?” Mai said.

“Whichever one of you has the time to do it, I guess,” he said. “This is the glass that came with her?”

“Yes. On the subject, why’d you go and collect so much of it? What a waste of time that must’ve been,” Mai said.

“I don’t know,” Prince Zuko said, sweeping the glass into the small bag lying on the ground by the nightstand. “I thought it might be important in healing her or something. I mean, you know, how could the healers understand what they were pulling out of her unless they saw it?”

Mai did not seem to believe him, but to your surprise, she did not question him further on the topic, only nodding. Maybe she respected him just a bit more than you had thought, though considering your original hypothesis had not exactly been favorable for the prince, this didn’t mean much.

“Where are you taking that?” she said instead, motioning towards the bag. “To dispose of it?”

“Yeah,” Prince Zuko said. “I’ll have it taken to the incinerator.”

You felt a twinge in your stomach. “Do you have to?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said.

“That glass is my only link to who I was before. Even if it was a bad memory, at least that memory was mine,” you explained. “I — I know it’s strange, but I feel like if you destroy it, you’ll destroy me, in some sense.”

“Ursa…” Ty Lee said, helplessly sympathetic, grasping your hands in her own. “It’s just glass. It can’t tell you anything about yourself, besides the fact that you were hurt during the fall of Ba Sing Se.”

“Your royal highness,” you beseeched Prince Zuko, who shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably at the title. “I know you have already done so much for me, so it is in bad taste for me to ask you for another favor, but please do not send that glass to be burnt away. Please save it. At least until I remember why it was there in the first place.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “It’s waste material. Nothing good will come of you keeping it. Nothing at all will.”

“I just—” you began before breaking off. “Never mind. I’m sorry for asking.”

“Zuko, maybe you should just do it,” Mai said.

“Leave it, Mai,” Ty Lee said. “He’s made up his mind. Even we can’t change it once he’s like this.”

Both of them looked at him, but he only picked up the bag and tucked it under his arm.

“I’m leaving now,” he said. “Don’t come after me.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room with Mai and Ty Lee. Both of them seemed sorry, and actually, unlike what you had expected, Mai was the first to speak up.

“I’m sorry, Ursa,” she said. “He’s always been the temperamental sort.”

“It’s okay,” you said, still unused to being referred to as Ursa, even if it was the name you had supposedly bore for your entire life. “He and Ty Lee are right, after all. It’s just glass. Trash. What use could I really derive from something like that? If that’s all that’s left of my old life, then maybe I’m better off not remembering at all.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Mai said. “But if it makes you feel better, we won’t argue, right, Ty Lee?”

“Hm? No, we won’t,” Ty Lee said.

“What’s gotten you all distracted?” Mai said. Ty Lee shook her head.

“It’s nothing. By the way, can you help me pack for the academy? I’m worried I’ll forget something,” she said.

“That, or you want me to do it all for you,” Mai said.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that!” Ty Lee said.

“I’m just joking,” Mai said, but since her voice remained that same steady deadpan, it was hard to tell. “Yes, I’ll help you, and I’ll get things ready for Ursa, too. That way she can leave as soon as Zuko gets her admitted into the academy. Let’s be honest — the sooner she can get out of here, the better.”

“That’s true,” Ty Lee said, though when she noticed your downcast expression, she rushed to reassure you. “Don’t feel bad!”

“It’s not a problem. I understand; you’ve already wasted so much time and so many resources on taking care of me. It’s only logical that you’d want me gone,” you said.

“It’s not like that,” Mai said. “There’s just people in this palace that you’d be better off never meeting. It’ll be good if you can get out before you have that displeasure. That’s all.”

“I see,” you said. “Then thank you once again for doing your best to look out for me.”

“We’ll leave you alone for a bit,” she said. “I’m sure this has all been a lot to process, so it’ll be good for you to come to terms with it on your own time.”

“Bye, Ursa! See you soon!” Ty Lee said.

“Bye,” you said, though your farewell was lacking much of her cheer. Even if Mai was right, you didn’t really want to sit alone. You had nothing to think about or do in the solitude, so what good would you gain from it? But you could hardly beg them to stay, not when you did not know them and they did not know you, so you only watched as they left you sitting by yourself in silence.

It was only when the moon was high in the sky that your door creaked open once more. You were still awake — you had been having trouble getting to sleep, so you had tentatively begun to walk around your room, testing your legs, familiarizing yourself with the motions of walking once more. When you heard footsteps, though, you immediately grew still, hoping that the visitor would be someone you recognized and not someone with more nefarious intentions.

You had been expecting, or perhaps hoping, that it would be Mai or Ty Lee, but to your surprise, it was Prince Zuko. He was not wearing armor, and his hair was loose and messy around his face, but there was no doubt that it was him.

“How much do you really remember?” he said without formality or even a greeting. “Hey. Tell me the truth, at least.”

“What do you mean?” you said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I mean, have you really forgotten everything?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “There’s nothing but a vast darkness whenever I try to look back at the time before I woke up here. I don’t remember a single thing about myself. I didn’t even know my name until you said it.”

He cocked his head at you, trying to discern if you were being truthful, and eventually he must’ve come to some conclusion, because he just buried his face in his hands.

“Okay,” he said.

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you said.

“It depends on who you’re asking,” he said. “And if you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!” you said.

“I believe you,” he said.

“Well…” you said. “There is one thing. Sometimes, in between the darkness, I’ll see something blue. I don’t know what it might represent, but I know that it’s there. It’s the only other thing I can recall — that precise shade like jewel-paint.”

“That could be anything,” he said.

“Yes, I know that,” you said. “That’s why I wouldn’t have even mentioned it ordinarily. Maybe something important to me was that color, or maybe there was just a blue tapestry on the wall where I was injured. There’s no concrete explanation, but I wanted you to know the full truth.”

“So that’s it, then,” he said.

“I suppose it is. On another subject, do you really mean to have me attend the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?” you said.

“You’ve already been accepted,” he said. “You’ll go. It’ll be alright.”

“Mai and Ty Lee didn’t seem to think so,” you said.

“You’re stronger than both of them, by far,” he said. “If they survived, you will, too.”

“Yet I’m the one that was captured,” you reminded him. “I don’t see how that makes me the stronger between us.”

A ghost of a smile flashed over his face. “You may not believe it, but at least to me, you are.”

“Did you know me very well, then, to be saying that with such confidence?” you said. “Before you found me that day? Were — were we friends?”

You didn’t want to say anything else, for it seemed presumptuous, but friends was close enough to what you were really asking that you figured the prince would understand.

It seemed that he did, but he did not appreciate the implication, for his face closed off and his posture grew withdrawn. Turning away from you, he pursed his lips.

“No,” he said. “We weren’t anything. You didn’t know me, and I didn’t know you. I only saved you because — because you and my mother share a name. That’s all.”

“It’s strange,” you said. “That name doesn’t even feel like it’s my own. Is it the amnesia that causes such a phenomenon?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t overthink it. Have fun at the Royal Fire Academy, Ursa. I’ll give you a messenger hawk; write to me frequently. And — and if you remember anything…”

“If I remember anything?” you prodded.

“Tell me first,” he said. “Not Ty Lee. Not anyone else. Me.”

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #the glass princess #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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murasaki-cha · 1 year ago

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*hits blunt*

Kim Rok Soo looks nothing like his original appearance now that he's Cale

Alberu looks nothing like his true appearance when he is the crown prince

Lee Soo Hyuk looks nothing like his original appearance now that he's Sui Khan

But Choi Han and Choi Jung Soo are the only one's who's appearance never changed yet deep down they're fundamentally more different than their younger selves. Same with Choi Jung Gun

#the chois don't change they evolve!#besides their sanity that's devolving unfortunately #tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #cale henituse #kim rok soo #alberu crossman #sui khan #lee soo hyuk #choi han #choi jung soo #choi jung gun #tcf novel

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leeknowsintrusivethots · 10 months ago

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A Stray Concubine

| Part 1 | Pairings: Prince!Lee Know/You, Prince!Bangchan/You, RivalNoble!Hyunjin/You? We are all about possibility here. Summary: Entering into a harem choosing was something you have been groomed for since you were young. Your aim is to make Crown Prince Christopher fall at your heels in order to restore your ruined family name and fortune, but games of love are much harder than games of lies and deceit. Content: Angst (is it me if it's not?), slow burn, smut(warnings below the cut), fictional historical universe, dark themes, second person perspective, historical-typical gender roles, imperial harem-inspired concubine system, multi-pov WC: 5119 Minors do not interact. Do not repost my content to other websites. Notes: I'm back to writing again, keyboard slappin' again. Also, I am having trouble figuring out a way to format POV shifts on tumblr that is clean but not intrusive. I am open to suggestions.

Smut Warnings: very brief/very vanilla smut, sex with a stranger, no strings, mentions/illusions of oral, smut is not between leads of the story?(idk, I think some of you might be peeved by that. We do it for the plot.)

You

Powerful was a word that most would not place on a woman.

Women were meant to be demure and delicate. They were meant to rear children and attend to household affairs as their husbands brought in income and fought in wars where there would be no true victors. It was not a woman's place to meddle in affairs of politics and governance outside of securing marriage alliances for unwanted daughters to bring extra wealth and prestige to the family name. That is simply how the world worked.

You never questioned it in your childhood. You wore the pretty, colorful silks. You learned to speak eloquently but never out of turn. You played instruments and studied embroidery and other womanly arts. You were exactly what society dictated you be: a pretty face being prepared to be sold off for the honor of your family name.

It was a single, fateful trip to the capital with your mother and father that had changed not only your perspective but the entire course of your life. Your family name was tarnished and your father was executed by the ruling Bang family for murder and treason. The only thing that had saved you and your mother was the grace of the sex you had been born with and her tears and pleas for mercy. Even as she cried and begged in front of His Majesty, the truths you had known crumbled to dust.

Your father had been a puzzle piece in a generations long game of chess where the kings and queens played with the lives of others to gain power of their own. He had been a disposable pawn, easily lost to the ages as a traitor whom there would be no songs written about. Everyone knew it, and it didn't take long for you to realize it for yourself. You, even at a young age, looked beyond your mother's pretty tears and prettier words.

You knew Princess Mai was set to wed the young lord Hwang.

The Hwangs were a powerful family - rivaling your own in terms of wealth and influence. Hwang Hyunjin was the sole heir to his family's fortunes. A marriage alliance with Princess Mai would tip the precarious balance of power to favor the Hwangs more greatly. It would have been a match that would have been detrimental to your own family's power.

You knew all of this. You also knew the vial of dark purple liquid your mother had hidden under the flowing sleeve of her gown was not nail polish as she had told you. You had watched keenly as she had slipped the liquid into Princess Mai’s goblet as you all supped with the Queen without anyone else the wiser. Your mother's poison had killed the young princess before the physicians could even get through the door. As Queen Bang had cried and screamed for the loss of her child, your mother had secretly smiled.

She had ruined the Hwang’s grab for more power and gotten rid of a Bang daughter in one fell swoop. She was the chess master, and she had outmaneuvered them all with a pretty face and a pretty smile. You don't know if she foresaw any of the consequences of her actions: the execution of her husband, the ruin of the family businesses, and the loss of your family's prestige.

Your mother had broken the mold. She had held your father under a spell with her looks alone. His station allowed him to take other wives if he chose, but he never did. He allowed her the freedom that many women would never get to taste in this lifetime, and she took it with greed and left him in a grave of her making.

“Was the power worth it, Mother?” You asked the carriage window that tottered down the street.

Through the pristine glass, the lush landscape was ruined by the image of heavily armed men on horseback. They wore the colors and heraldry of the Bangs, and they patrolled the road to the palace with keen eyes and sharp blades. Their numbers were more than usual as they surveyed the throng of carriages and ladies on horseback that made the journey in an unlikely parade.

The Selection was the only time that the Kingdom of Miroh would see such an odd assortment of women making their way to the Palace of Kings. It was a rare event, only happening when the Royal family required more women to act as concubines and maids. The needs of the Palace had nobles and commoners alike sending their daughters off for the possibilities of fame and fortune.

Serving the royals as a maid was an honor that most of the peasantry could only dream of, but even nobles would be pleased if one of their younger daughters could secure a spot in the Royal household. It would ensure that they were at least in the line of sight of the many princes, and the maid staff were compensated fairly for their time along with accommodations and food provided for them. There were certainly worse places for a woman to find herself.

You, however, were not sent by your mother with such plebeian goals.

It was not comfort you sought, nor was it the possibility of an affair with the princes. You were to aim higher. You were to become one of the women that history scorned for reaching beyond her station.

Your aim was to ensure that you became Prince Bang's Most Favored. Your mother would accept no less. She wanted the favor, the prestige and wealth that would come along with your rise. It had always been her goal, and it had been fed to you for so long that you weren't even sure how much of it was your own desire over her influence.

Did you want that level of power?

Did you even care to join the Royal family in such a fashion?

Would you ever even come to care for Prince Bang as more than a chess piece on your own board?

These were questions that you could not answer. You often thought of being a young girl again - ignorant to the world and the affairs of adults. You liked your pretty dresses. You loved running through your family's well maintained gardens with your favored hunting hound on your heels. You loved scrubbing paint off your arms and being scolded by your governess for ruining good gowns after a day of painting lessons. You were innocent then, but that was certainly no longer the case.

The frivolities of childhood had to be left behind. You were an adult, and you knew more of the world than you cared to. You knew that as a gently bred woman, you would never be more than a broodmare for a rich and powerful man unless you took charge like your mother had so many times before. The consequences could be grave; you could lose your head if you weren't careful, but great queens had never become so by following the status quo.

As you toiled with emotions far beyond your depth, the King's Gate shadowed your carriage eerily. It was an original part of the palace’s structure, built so solidly that the centuries had done minimal damage to its intricate design. It towered over the road, blocking out the sun with marbled walls inlaid with precious metals and jewels. It was meant to intimidate, and belittle. It was meant to make everyone passing in its shadows feel weak and small in comparison to the glory of the Royal Family. It opened seldomly, and only for whatever family sat the throne at the time.

Its momentous shadow lasted for what felt like an eternity as the line of carriages trudged along the walls of the palace to a more appropriate entrance for those not of royal blood. You and the other women arriving for the selection were being directed to the same gate used for supply carriages and merchants. It was yet another mind game: being delivered like fine cattle to await the murderous whims of a king. It was a way to ensure all women of the selection knew their place - but you saw things through the lens of your mother.

The Gate of Kings was the first thing all arrivals to the palace would see by design, but it would never open for them. Instead of intimidation, you saw a challenge to inflame and inspire your heart. You would enter through the Merchant's Gate, but you knew that the Gate of Kings would open for you one day. It was all a matter of what you had to do to make it happen - consequences be damned.

Prince Minho

Head held high. Feet light and delicate. Body slim and lithe. Features sharp and regal despite station. Gown loose and flowing in bright, ostentatious colors.

She could be a candidate, Lee Minho thought to himself as he watched the dancers practice.

The brightly colored fabric of her gown rode up her ankles as she moved, offering the briefest flash of a pale and delicate ankle. It was inappropriate – bordering on scandalous. Had it been even a decade prior, she might have been imprisoned for her lewdness but times were changing. It was a fact of life as set in stone as the changing of seasons: people evolved and people learned.

Minho liked that concept. He liked the ideas of society shifting and expanding. He liked the change of pace from the monotony, but what he liked even more was the prospect of those daring enough to enact that change. It took an uncommon spirit to go against the masses – to challenge the very knowledge that civilized society was built on.

As if reading his thoughts, the dancer’s eyes found his and held them. Her's were not the wide eyes of an innocent maid. They were heavily lidded, seductive in their intent.

It was another act of impudence, a daring so strong she probably would be locked in a labor camp if his father witnessed the scene. A woman so open in her sexuality was a threat to the masculinity of the insecure men around her who grasped at whatever shred of power they thought was within their reach. She would be scorned – likely punished by her closest male relative had she acted so with any other man.

Lee Minho was certainly not just any man off the streets of Miroh. He was so much more, and arguably so much worse. A Prince of Miroh could easily have her pretty head taken off for such an insignificant slight against social norms. He hated himself for even thinking about it, but he did. He hated himself even as the dance practice came to a natural end and the dancer approached him carelessly.

It was a silent exchange – not a single word passing her rouged lips as he took her slim hand in his and led her from the banquet hall. He knew what she wanted. It's what they all wanted. Motivations differed, but the methods never changed. A fun time with a Prince of one of the most powerful nations in the world. He was never one to reject the advances, never had been.

Lee Minho was many things. He was a Second Prince of Miroh. He was the son of the most powerful man in the kingdom. He was the younger brother of the Crown Prince. He was an intellectual, a graceful fencer, and the official Spare of the Bang family. These were all monikers and titles the public used to describe him, but behind closed doors they sang a different tune.

He was the shame of the Royal family. He favored arts over swordsmanship. He was an alcoholic who frequented ill reputed pubs and discussed philosophy over ale with criminal scholars. He was a rake who lived at brothels and slept with low class whores. They talked as if they knew him. They spoke as if he sat at their tables and discussed with him personally over hot tea – but they had no idea.

They knew nothing of the self hatred that coursed through his veins. They knew nothing of the helplessness he felt due to his station. They would never understand the uncontrollable guilt that never failed to find him.

He was a Prince. He held all the power in the world but that power was wrapped up and presented to him with strings attached ever since he came into the world. He could drink, he could talk and he could sleep his way through the entirety of Miroh but that was as far as his freedom extended. The second he even stepped over the invisible line of what was acceptable, everything could be taken away.

The change he wanted was within his reach – a delicate treasure that would be so easy to share. Reaching up to break it free for the rest of the world would spell the end of everything he had, but he was not brave enough. He was a coward – a coward hiding behind fancy words and under the colorful skirts of women far more courageous than he.

His frustrations often manifested in indulgence in the freedoms he was allowed. He would drink, he would dine, and he would fuck in a vain attempt to fill the deepest pits of his tarnished soul. He never wanted it. He had wanted to change it, but his own desires had twisted him. He became the very thing he feared: a powerful man taking advantage of the luxuries given to him without giving anything in return.

The dancer’s back was pressed against a thin wooden door. Her lithe legs had wrapped around him of their own accord and her hands were threading into his hair and the fabric of his shirt – pulling him deeper into a brief moment where he was not a Prince. He was a normal man without a moral compass, enjoying the pleasures of a woman's body.

There was no foreplay – no kissing or passionate words. He didn't even get her name before he was pushing her skirts up and sinking his sheathed cock into her cunt. It was not an act of love. It was the act of a desperate fool seeking to forget the world around him.

And he took. He took the brief reprieve with abandon. The door shook dangerously behind her. Her nails raked him though his shirt hard enough to leave marks. Her moans and whines intermingled with his hushed pants to fill his ears with sensual distraction as her walls squeezed him.

It was over too fast. The sounds, smells, and feelings of arousal tapering until all that was left was grim reality. Post orgasm clarity was never a good moment sober. Words failed him, and all the truths he ran from distracted him from the beautiful woman who had originally caught his eye.

“Talia,” she spoke as she adjusted her skirts.

“Excuse me?” He questioned dumbly. He had put space between them, giving himself a moment of reprieve and allowing her a moment to collect herself.

“My name: Talia,” she repeated.

“You're telling me now?” He asked in mild amusement.

“Figured you might want to know who just made you cum,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Is that any way for a lady to speak?” he asked at her audacity. It was brazen and crass, but he was far from mad about it. Her words had his cock twitching in his pants again.

“M’no Lady. You know as well as me that I'm not gentleborn.”

“Since we're being so frank, relieve me of my curiosity,” he said as he propped himself against an abandoned and dusty desk against the wall opposite of her. He regarded her levelly, but with the easy charisma that he was often praised for.

“Anything for Second Prince Bang,” she mocked with a quirk of her brows. She never shied away from his stare, never let herself be subdued by the power his titles held. He liked that – a lot.

“I figured you knew.” He was not surprised in the slightest. His portraits were few and far in between, but it was highly likely the palace staff had informed the dancers one of the princes was watching in on their practice. She made no comment of guilt, so he continued, “What did you want from this entanglement?”

“Other than being able to brag that I fucked a Prince?” She laughed. It was not a malicious laugh, but a genuine one. She also found their exchange amusing.

“Are you going to join my fanclub?”

“I'll be the leader.”

At her remark, he laughed. It was an honest laugh, one that had him feeling light and free. It was an uncommon feeling for him, one only his brothers had managed to make him feel. He liked this girl, but that's all he ever could do was like her. He was under no illusions that this was just an exchange of banter. She was a passing moment in his life, not a permanent fixture.

“Were you that pleased?” He asked with a spark in his gut. He made to move from the desk, but she put her hands up in surrender.

“So pleased, I fear another round would have me fainting.” She let out a sigh as she fanned herself in exaggeration before letting out a snort of derision. “Isn't that what the gentleladies say when their ladybits can't take it anymore?”

“Even noblewomen like to dabble in the fine art of overstimulation,” he smirked back.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Are you avoiding my question?”

“I would never dare,” she hummed with a twinkle showing in her eyes. It was teasing – daring on its own.

“Then answer.”

“Is that a command, Your Highness?”

“Would you obey if it were?”

His question had her approaching him, a smirk that mirrored his own pulling at her painted lips as the gauzy material of her dress flowed around her slim figure enticingly. When she was directly in front of him, close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin, she sank to her knees before him. Her hands deftly handled the ties of his trousers to pull them down enough to free him.

“If the Prince commands, I will serve.” Her mouth, hot and wanting, was on him before he could even think of a witty response.

Prince Christopher

As heir apparent of a nation, Christopher Bang was not unaccustomed to worry. He worried about the coming winter and if the provinces had prepared their food stores accordingly. The winters in Miroh could be harsh– deadly even. If the cold didn’t kill the populace, hunger was a certain second contender. If he could help alleviate that in any way: he would. It was his birthright and his duty, and he was nothing if not a man of his station.

Any indication of increasing hostilities in the Borderlands would have him holed up in his personal offices for weeks on end. He would analyze patterns. He would discern strategies. He would rethink choices in generals. He would make plans to advocate for peace treaties with the neighboring territories. WIthout fail, his efforts would be rebuked by the King and the conflicts would continue unchecked. He never stopped trying.

The conflicts never turned to all out war. They were simply petty squabbles with centuries long history over dejure land rights. It was almost ingrained as tradition– sons carrying out the same trite battles as a matter of pride over any true cause. Ofcourse, it wasn’t the Kings or Princes that suffered.

It was the common soldiers with wives and children waiting for their safe return. It was the fishermen who watched warily as flagships came to shore. It was the farmers who worked full days for a meager loaf of bread only to watch their livelihoods be put to the torch in a war they never asked for. It was average people who held no stake nor say in the matters of governance or state. It didn’t matter to them who held the territories they called home. Their lot would stay the same regardless of which Lords called themselves King, but the battles for that title hurt them more than anyone else.

Christopher knew that. He wanted to change it. He wanted to right historical wrongs and be the King his people needed. Alas, he couldn't. All he could do was worry.

It wasn't even just grand matters of state that occupied his mind. Smaller, more personal affairs piled on his already overloaded platter of responsibilities. He was the eldest of his family's sons – even in the circles of peasantry that came with its own responsibility. He had to look out for his younger siblings. He had to ensure they played their parts as royal children and kept the family name clean and as prestigious as ever. Some of his brothers made it harder than others.

Changbin had taken his duties easily as had their younger brothers: Seungmin and Jeongin. They knew their stations and how to conform within the standards that befit them. Felix and Jisung tried, but they were more empathetic. They struggled with their places on the world stage– questioning the morality of their way of life and the responsibilities they held. It wasn't a negative thing, and Christopher could not fault them for it. It was a natural part of being human.

In his youth, it wasn't at all uncommon for his studies and training as heir to lead him down a spiral of questions. He was one of the most powerful men in the world thanks to nothing other than being born a son of the Bang Family. He could make people tremble in fear if he so much as looked at them with ill intent. He held the power of life and death in his hands. How could that possibly be fair? How could he live knowing that he had everything while others had nothing? He was as well aware of the moral quandaries as Jisung and Felix. He would not fault them for floundering – he could not.

The hardest thing – he had learned – was having all the power in the world and still trying to be a decent human.

The duties and power of royalty were a loaded hand cannon given at whim by an unfair creator. Some men would tremble at the burden, and lay it down without problem. Some would take the power to head and heart, and become a terrible beast whose machinations could ruin entire realms with a single shot. Others – a very rare few – had the sense and sensibility to know not only how to shoot, but how to aim.

It was Christopher’s only hope that he ended up in the history books as one of the latter. He would be a good king when the time came. He would care for his people and not let the burden of rule turn him hard and corrupt. He would be the role model his brothers needed.

But these were simply hopes and dreams. In reality, he was simply one Prince amongst many others. His father still held the crown of governance, and he answered to the King as well as anyone else.

“You can not simply force him!” Beauty Lee cried out with as much emotion as Christopher had ever seen her express. She was usually so calm, and collected. She was a Beauty of the King’s Harem, but he had learned far too early that even his father could break the cool facade of the Palace women with little effort.

“And what's to stop me, Woman?” King Bang grunted back with a bite. His voice was not to be forgotten. It was distinct in its unyielding harshness, and it suited his appearance just as well.

He was a hardened man – a King but a true warrior at heart. He was graying and wrinkling in age, but he was still considered a handsome – even fearsome – man. Under the wrinkles covering his face and hands were scars from battle. He had seen war, but his age and dress showed he also knew luxury in equal measure.

“He is your son! You must have an ounce of compassion for your own blood!” Beauty Lee protested.

“Compassion? Is compassion what he needs, now?” The words were not spoken, but spat in frustration. It was a testament to Beauty Lee’s determination that she did not shirk away from the words. “I'd rather a firm beating to undo all the years of coddling you've put the boy through.”

“Is a mother's love coddling? I shall not deny he is flawed. Heaven knows we all are, but he's grown into a good man with a good heart!” Her voice was calmer, but still burning with resolve.

The feeling of dread that had been slowly rising in Christopher’s chest engulfed him until he felt bile rising in the back of throat. He knew he had not been summoned to the King’s receiving chambers to simply witness a lover’s quarrel. They were speaking of Second Prince Minho - Beauty Lee’s only son and the Second of the Bang Sons.

Minho wasn’t like his other brothers. He had always been incredibly brave even if outlandish. He broke tradition: galavanting across the world with intellectuals, keeping the company of whores and artists, and never accepting his duties as a Prince of the Royal Family. He had always done what he wanted, and Christopher admired him for it even if it stressed him out to his wits end.

“A heart our enemies would tear out of his chest and eat for protein. He is soft. Sometimes I question whether he is even my son,” King Bang said viciously. It was a tone that could cut down enemies. I was not a tone to take with a gentlewoman, especially not regarding your own blood.

“You– you can't say such things! He is your true son! I swear it,” Beauty Lee prostrated.

“Ah, bugger off woman! If I had any true suspicions you would be dead and he would be left to rot in a cell.”

“Please, Your Highness. Minho admires you so much, he just needs time.”

“Time? Had I known you and your welp would be so resource intensive, I would have left you both in the whore house you came from.” King Bang said it as if he were discussing the menu for the upcoming festivities. It was as casual a threat as could be delivered, but it was a threat.

“Plea–”

“Save your whimpering. There will be no further discussion. Minho will cease his fruitless adventures and settle down here in the palace with a harem befitting his station – or he will be sent to the Borderlands indefinitely.”

“You would send your own son to die in such a way?” Beauty Lee cried. As if suddenly realizing he was present, her wild eyes fell on Christopher. Before he could even register what was happening, she was tugging the sleeve of his shirt in desperation. “My Prince! He is your brother! Minho will die in the Borderlands! You know it.”

“Unhand the Crown Prince, Woman! I have taken heads for less!” King Bang roared amongst her pleas for mercy.

It was moments like this that Christopher liked to pretend. He was not simply Prince Christopher: he was King Christopher. He held the power. He would never let Beauty Lee be in such distress and he would be content to let Minho live as he saw fit, but those were still dreams. He was but a Prince, and Minho was too. If they wanted to survive for a future, they all had their parts to play. He could not pretend: he had to take action.

“Father,” Christopher spoke up as Beauty Lee clung to him. “I will take responsibility.”

“For Minho?” King Bang questioned with narrowed eyes. He was always suspicious– always seeing a play even if there was none, and truly Christopher didn’t have one.

“Yes. I will ensure he settles down into Court Life,” Christopher assured his dad and the bleary-eyed Beauty. She blinked up at him with hope, and even fondness. She always had been kind to him and his brothers. She would sneak them sweets when they were young and practiced at swords and the King forbade it. She was a kind woman – maybe too kind for the world she had been adopted into. “I will make sure he accepts it, and adjusts appropriately.”

“Sometimes, I fear I have raised no sons, but seven bleeding hearts instead,” King Bang sighed. He contemplated for a moment, his eyes flashing between his concubine and his heir with laser focus. If he were looking for something, he seemed to be content with what he found. “I will let you.”

“Oh, Your Majesty. I will be forever grateful. You are good, and just!” Beauty Lee cried as she dropped Christopher’s arm only to bow as low as possible at the foot of the King’s ornate desk chair he occupied.

“Save your words,” he commanded her. Her words stopped at once at his admonishment. “If Christopher should fail to tame my most wayward son, it will be a statement of his right to rule.”

As he spoke, he stared right into the eyes of Chrisopher.

The young prince was not surprised. He had spent his entire life jumping through hoops to earn not only his crown, but even a shred of affection from the larger than life figure that he shared blood with. His aptitude had never failed him, but he would never feel safe relying on his father’s love for anything in his life.

“If I cannot trust my heir to command his own blood, how can I trust him to command the people of an entire kingdom?” the King added. He let the threat hang in the air before turning his attention back to the sniveling Beauty at his feet. “In other words, if he fails: you will ruin two of my sons.”

It was another threat meant for the woman who had borne him a child.

She was one of his longest lasting concubines. It was rumored that Beauty Lee was the one woman of the harem that held any love from the King, and she had suffered for it. She had been scorned and bullied by the other women of the King’s harem. She had been attacked in countless games of court intrigue. She had outlasted all the attempts to have her ousted from the court and from his favor.

Christopher could only wonder: how would she survive the biggest threat of them all?

#stray kids smut #skz ff #skz smut #lee know fanfic #lee know ff #lee minho smut #lee minho fanfic #lee know smut #stray kids fanfic #bangchan smut #lee know x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan ff #bangchan fanfic #stray kids ff #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fanfic

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 4 months ago

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🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in August 2024 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

[ Text list below ⤵ ]

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Failure to Comply - Sarah Cavar 🧡 I Spit On Your Celluloid - Heidi Honeycutt 💛 You're Embarrassing Yourself - Desiree Akhavan 💚 Death of the Hero - Briona Johnson 💙 Between Dragons and Their Wrath - Devin Madson 💜 The Crimson Crown - Heather Walter ❤️ Sacrificial Animals - Kailee Pedersen 🧡 Oath of Fire - K. Arsenault Rivera 💛 The Palace of Eros - Caro De Robertis 💙 This Ravenous Fate - Hayley Dennings 💜 Mistress of Lies - K.M. Enright 🌈 Wolf Bite - T.J. Nichols

❤️ In the Valley, A Shadow - Samantha Tano 🧡 Follow My Lead - Adrian J. Smith 💛 The Last Woman I Kissed - Venetia Di Pierro 💚 Full Shift - Jennifer Dugan & Kristen Seaton 💙 Hers for the Weekend - Helena Greer 💜 Come Out, Come Out - Natalie C. Parker ❤️ Rules for Ghosting - Shelly Jay Shore 🧡 How to Leave the House - Nathan Newman 💛 Plot Twist - Carmen Sereno 💙 On the Far Side of a Crescendo - Kalyn Hazel 💜 Tiny Oblivions and Mutual Self Destructions - Maxwell I. Gold 🌈 Daylan and the River of Secrets - Edd Tello

❤️ The Italy Letters - Vi Khi Nao 🧡 The Gender Binary Is a Big Lie - Lee Wind 💚 The House Where Death Lives - Alex Brown 💙 Ash's Cabin - Jen Wang 💜 The Avian Hourglass - Lindsey Drager ❤️ The Heart Wants - Krystina Rivers 🧡 A Grand Love - Janna Barkin 💛 You Can't Go Home Again - Jeanette Bears 💜 Libertad - Bessie Flores Zaldivar 🌈 Her Golden Coast - Anat Deracine

❤️ Mighty Millie Novak - Elizabeth Holden 💛 Rise and Divine - Lana Harper 💚 Dying for You - L Flowers 💙 I'll Have What He's Having - Adib Khorram 💜 Changing Her Tune - Amanda Kabak ❤️ Monogamy? In this Economy? - Laura Boyle 🧡 The Rainbow Age of Television - Sayna Maci Warner 💛 Medusa of the Roses - Navid Sinaki 💙 Confounding Oaths - Alexis Hall 💜 Idol Lives - K.T. Salvo 🌈 Brother's Keeper - Quinn Cameron

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❤️ Loving Corrections - Adrienne Maree Brown 🧡 The Last Witch in Edinburgh - Marielle Thompson 💛 The Duchess of Kokora - Nikhil Prabala 💚 The Scales of Seduction - Rien Gray 💙 Survival Is a Promise - Alexis Pauline Gumbs 💜 Loka - S.B. Divya ❤️ The Every Body Book of Consent - Rachel E Simon 🧡 Southern Lights - Liz Arncliffe 💛 Then Things Went Dark - Bea Fitzgerald 💙 Death at Morning House - Maureen Johnson 💜 The Last Doorbell - William Parker 🌈 The Pairing - Casey McQuiston

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lostheretics · 11 months ago

Text

PLOT TWIST (6)

▸ chapter 6; bonnie, clyde, and the others on the side

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5 || pt. 6

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there's you, and me, and us, and oh wait. perhaps there's more.

in which marriage is not always a paradise, honeymoon avenue somehow is far behind as you look through the rearview mirror. and beware of the road ahead, for accidents might happen. road work, traffic jam,

or some stranger trying to get a lift, perhaps for a permanent front seat.

✵ notes : 6k-ish. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. PLS REBLOG (i will appreciate this sm) AND GIVE SOME THOUGHTS IF U HAVE THEM. ENJOY

WARNINGS BELOW CUT

☒ warnings: bad words here and there (it's life, but still minors dni) but do remind me if i missed something.

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

i don’t know how exactly to start this one.

but it’s about younghoon, the crown prince of seoul, the heir of the seoul kim family and the huge problem he’s facing right now. he’s in a deep shit. the shit being the problem that could swallow him whole. the huge problem being falling in love.

how is it a problem? one might ask.

well, he fell in love with a woman he’s not supposed to fall in love with. for god’s sake, it was supposed to be just a one night job. a good friendship, a good business partner if it goes for more. but he overstepped. he couldn’t help it. not to mention the woman he fell in love with is already tied down to another man.

simply put, he somehow fell in love with jung y/n.

and most of all, over a single fucking ice cream night.

as he laid on his bed, his mind could only go back on repeating the moment, on and on again.

you were such a good dancer.

you’re a really good dancer.

younghoon’s brain kept on saying so as each of his hand held your waist and hand, guiding you through a dance in one of mrs. han’s party that you got yourself into.

he still couldn’t believe how easy it is for you to get an invitation over a single lunch and conversation with mrs. han.

safe to say you had charmed the lady.

and not long into the party, you had once again charmed your way into her heart. and her daughter’s heart more importantly, with the talk of younghoon’s brother, the main target of the whole operation. you charmed them so much to the point that mrs. han had set a formal date to meet both the families up. of course, with the thoughts of marital proposal and possible mergers of the two powers.

the outcome of it might still change, but you still got the two families to meet up with each other and that alone is impressive enough to him.

that’s why you and younghoon spend the rest of the evening dancing and chatting. the job is practically finished, and what’s left was easing up to each other.

“i owe you for this one. a promise and more, i think. you’ve landed my whole family a new ally, and my brother a possible wife. in less than a month, i might add.” he had said while leading you on a dance.

you’ve found that younghoon, more than just a charming man, is also a good and down earthed one.

you smiled at him, “it’s a possible outcome, but not yet certain, mr. kim.”

“younghoon.”

“huh?”

“younghoon. it’s kinda too fast, but we’ve come this far and i think it’s safe to say we can certainly be on first name basis now, y/n.” he said, “only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

“…if you say so, younghoon.”

younghoon smiled back. it might sound awkward still, but for that, time can be the cure. not everything can be done instantly anyways.

the dance stopped after a while. younghoon and you had several rounds of conversations around the room, keeping the couple act up. his hand would be guiding you by your back, fixing your dress or holding your drink or handbag whenever you need the help, including you in every conversation.

he truly is a gentleman.

mrs. han, as the socialite she is, invited many important guests. though filled with other socialite wives, there are some prominent figures like deputy chief of the police, in which younghoon is close to, several high ranked people from ministry of health, or even other well-known and successful businessmen and businesswomen from all around the country. everything fell like a domino effect to you, just by knowing younghoon alone.

after a while, you and younghoon came to the realization that you both were not a fan of the crowd. hence, you both decided to shy away from the crowd and opting to sit by the empty gardens, a bowl of ice cream in on one hand and your champagne glasses on the other.

quietness filled you both as you enjoy the way the star shone that night, while munching on the vanilla ice cream you got from the ice cream bar inside.

“this reminds me of the first time i met you, you know.” younghoon broke the silence. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, telling him to elaborate.

“i was getting away from the crowd in juyeon’s party so i went to the gardens. instead of watching the sky, i had to watch this lady fainting in the middle of the garden in a party—“

“ugh.” you groaned.

“—and i had no choice but to help her, because i’m such a gentleman.” he jested.

you closed your eyes. “that’s the most embarrassing thing to ever happen in my entire life.”

“imagine the shock when i learned this lady who fainted would soon become my business partner? and great one at that?”

“great one? i’m flattered, younghoon.”

“and you should be. with the amount of achievement? so many in so little time.” younghoon said.

you chuckled lightly. you looked at the hem of your dress, playing with it to satisfy your fidgety urge.

“i had to. you know, for the family. for my husband, given the state we were in.” you murmured, “i only want stability, if not with peace.”

it wasn’t the first time you mentioned your husband’s name to him. some people in the mafia know that you are jung wooyoung’s wife, and he your husband. younghoon knew that too. but most of the times you were with younghoon, you never failed to mention your husband’s name. him being a great caporegime, good strategist, good husband who took you to meetings, et cetera. and always with a smile on your face. it never failed to amaze younghoon just how much love you have for him.

“how does it feel like?” he blurted out suddenly.

“huh?”

“to be married. to be in love in this… society of ours.” he said. “you seemed to be in love with your husband, which isn’t an everyday thing that happen here, you know? ‘cause most relationships are… benefit based. arranged marriage, forced ones… so how?”

“oh, that.” you smiled. “because there isn’t any benefit. we’re just… in love with each other. i didn’t came from any mafia group or family, it just happen that i worked for one without knowing they’re one, and i just met wooyoung. just like that. it’s unlikely in the mafia world, and the ways are also unlikely to happen in a normal world. but we dated, we fell harder, and decided to settle down.”

“and to me, at least, it feels great. i don’t think i’ll ever feel this way again. not before him, not after him.” you had mouthed in the end, unconsciously pouring up some of you heart contents.

younghood sighed. “must be beautiful.”

“you could’ve got all of it, you know. just now.”

“how so?”

“the arrangement with the han’s daughter. might be an arrangement, but a good and stable one at that. i mean, you’re the crown prince of your family. you have power. just treat her right, and tell her to treat you right, then you wait for the love to bloom. might take time, might not be the same as mine, but a win win solution still.” you expressed. “why giving it all away for your brother? no offense, he looks like a great guy like you, but why?”

younghoon chuckled. the usual question. after all, who in their right mind would give away all powers like just that?

“hm, where do i start?” he murmured to himself, then continued.

“to put it easily, i’m here, but i don’t wanna be here. my heart isn’t fully in this. despite my rank, birth and responsibilities, my brother is more suited for this job. that's why he's always around me, i might hand him this job. hence, the arrangement and all."

“what is it then, the thing you want to do the most?”

he leaned back a bit. eyes looking up, seemingly thinking and lost in his thoughts. you stared at him, stared at the way his eyes mirror the twinkling of the stars, and the way he tugged his lips up.

“a doctor.” he quietly said, after a while. “a real one. not for my family’s business. going all around the world as a volunteer, and actually helping actual people in need.”

“when i was in uni, i wanted to pursue a med career. but my dad didn’t really approve of it— of my future career choices in med as a volunteer. and med field are most held by my uncle and his children. so my dad offered me a chance for a med career, just not in the actual med field, but more on the business site. so i took law as my major and business as my minor and took over one of our hospitals.” he explained, before continuing, “but, i still make the best out of it. i volunteered a lot in uni, and my hospital is one of the best hospital in seoul in its practices, and we have a lot charity events to help people.”

you stared at him, awed. there was no words that could describe how amazed you are.

“wow.” was all you could say.

silence filled the both of you for quite some time. each of you let the conversation sink in deep, trying to understand each character, though perhaps in a light that’s slightly different from the usual one in the underworld. there were no hostility, no walls kept up too high, no tactics.

just two people in a mellow moment, enjoying each other’s company and in harmony.

following your own question, he then asked.

“what about you, y/n? what kind of life do you want to live?”

now, it was your time to be the one deep in thoughts. the one who stare at the stars, humming to yourself, thinking of the right answer.

“not a mafia one, to be honest.” you murmured, “but… ever since i met wooyoung, i feel like… i’ve lived my life. that i’m living in the life that i want,”

”with the one that i love most.”

somehow your words seemed so sincere to younghoon’s ears. so pure, so innocent, and so dreamy. something that he once dreamed of, something, or dare he say, someone that he wished for.

and somehow, you left younghoon star struck.

how will he ever move on? how will he ever find someone if he set such standard for his love life? a fairytale like love life, in this kind of environment.

he wondered about the life that you have with wooyoung, wondered if he ever will have those life. he wondered what if he was the one you met instead of wooyoung.

wishful thinking, eh?

but that’s all they are; thoughts. his gentlemanly self wouldn’t have it in his heart to steal like that. to take someone else away just for his own. no, he’s not that kind of man, and he stood by that.

yet it didn’t do anything to erase your pictures from his mind. at least for the night. it doesn’t lessen the warmth bubbling in his gut as he type his message to you in his phone; the eagerness to see you as soon as possible.

me: evening y/n. is tomorrow’s plan still up?

younghoon put his hand down, tapping his phone against his bedsheet as he anxiously wait for a reply; if any would come. the clock on his bedside table showed the time. 1:47 am. you must’ve fallen asleep, right?

right.

ding.

jung y/n: wouldn’t miss it. see u soon, hoon

younghoon think he might need to see a doctor now. his heart’s beating way too fast.

you: woo you: i dont think i can send lunch today cause im visiting the kims at their house. im sorry :(((((( you: pls dont miss lunch ok i asked the butler to send u some food. ilysm you: also idk when i’ll be home, so pls sleep early. i promise u’ll see me in ur dreams xo

you sighed, just after your thumb clicked on the send button for the last message.

sending lunch for wooyoung is one of your sacred daily routine ever since marriage, and this would be the first time for you not to do so. you sighed again, trying to get the uneasiness to subside so you can focus on your job today.

but it’s still there. prickling you slightly from the inside, initiating the thoughts and realization that you haven’t met wooyoung that much these past few days.

waking up today, you could only share a quick peck as wooyoung was in a hurry for a mission, so he said. last few days you could only drop his lunch and left as quick to continue your own job. suddenly everyone everywhere needed you.

you miss him.

last night you were together, you remember as if it was just yesterday, you recalled how you were talking about this exact problem, this exact thing. it fears you of how fast it came true to life. and you fear even more if it ever will go even further.

ding

woo: im gonna cry woo: jk but it’s ok babe i’ll be on a mission anw today, i dont know when i’ll be done. but i’ll be home tonight woo: come back fast if u can, ok? i love you too

just as you finished reading his replies, a sound of horn blasted as a black shiny car pulled up in front of you. the door to the driver side opened up, and you were gifted with the sight of younghoon emerging from the car, offering you a bright smile.

“ready?” was all he said while opening the passenger door, inviting you into his car.

you nod and said a small yes, entering his car. you stare at your screen for a little while, before typing a quick response.

wifey: i’ll try my best.

a sigh escaped through his lips after your last message to him. putting his phone back to the slot beside him, wooyoung could only stare far into the dark alleys in front of him. his mind filled with you it made his heart heavy.

it was never a problem before, when he had to go far or for a while on missions away from you. you’d miss him, he’d miss you, but right then he knew that whatever the circumstances, when he came back home you’ll always be there.

it’s not the case now.

he’s away for missions, and you’re away for business. when you’re home, he might not be home, and when he’s home, you might not be.

for that, he feels the subtle ache in his chest.

his fingers mindlessly tapped against the wheel of his car, before he was pulled back to his senses. the passenger door opened, showing jiwoo and her smile.

and her tight red dress.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” her snickers made him clear his throat, looking somewhere else to avoid jiwoo’s playful glint. he mentally slapped himself for even staring at jiwoo, but as a man, how could he not?

her neck is on display, as were her long legs. the dress short, but long enough to keep the gun and some knives hidden away. and with her features, anyone would be swooned by her presence.

maybe that’s why she got assigned for this mission, and again, with wooyoung.

what the fuck am i thinking? i have a wife.

“what takes you so long?”

“chill, i was getting some snacks for us. you said we’ll be spying and tailing a lot, so i figured we’ll be staying in the car quite a lot.”

“nah, change of plans.”

“what?”

“san called. seonghwa said we should go undercover into the club and get the stuff ourselves. so i’ll go as a gambler and you,” he eyed her up and down, “you, conveniently, will be enough as a distraction. did you knew we’re doing this for the mission?”

“nope, i was just feeling myself with the dress.” she shrugged. wooyoung raised a brow, but found nothing came up into his mind nor out of his mind, so he just started driving, wanting nothing more than to finish the mission.

“so what’s the stuff we’re getting?” jiwoo asked as they parked a few buildings before the club. the car came to a halt, the sight of the dimly lit club welcomed their eyes.

“san said it’s a ledger.” he got himself ready, “hongjoong needs something in there. it’s a proof, list of government officers getting involved in the human trafficking ring.”

“that’s terrible.”

“there are better words to describe how disgusting that is, but sure. now,” he turned to jiwoo, “i’ll go in, act kinda drunk and gamble some money for the ledger. you’ll be the distraction and a plan b; should i fail in getting the ledger, you should be the one getting it. okay?”

“okay.”

parting there, wooyoung got out of the car and walked to the club.

so here’s the thing about missions. they can be safe, they can be risky. zero to two means safe, something like spying or just plain investigating. on the other hand, field missions can have more risks, depending on the type of job. whether you have to stay low, or to kill as little as possible, or to not be seen yet has to be there on the spot. it depends.

and on a scale from one to ten, wooyoung is absolutely fucked.

it was supposed to be a ‘get in, get out’ type of job and without being seen. yet he managed to make a group of 10 people running after him in the club, after he tried to trick the dealer, a.k.a the owner of the club —the stupidest thing he's ever done in a mission.

“stop right there!”

a gunshot was heard, luckily not hitting wooyoung anywhere. but guns are out, which means his had to, whether he liked it or not.

he ran in between the crowd of people dancing and getting high, staying as low and as unseen as possible —which, he kinda failed in the first place, but he did his absolute best—, and he took out his glock from his hidden holster, shooting enemies in his sight. thankfully the music is loud enough to cover the sound of his gun. the ledger is safe in the bag, but if he’s not, then there’s no point in doing the mission any longer. but he had to hold on.

all while he ran and shoot, he cursed jiwoo for not holding them for long. she should’ve been a distraction, but perhaps not distracting enough.

“fuck!” he shouted.

and right after, the power went out in the whole club.

all the lights, all the music suddenly died, and the party goers could only ah-ed in unison clearly disappointed at the outcome. wooyoung couldn’t see anything in the dark, and had to stop for a while. he looked around, and found the group of men running after him starting to turn on their flashlights. he was about to run when suddenly someone grabbed his hand.

“it’s me, jiwoo!” the voice whispered loudly. wooyoung looked up and found jiwoo holding him, pulling him away from the crowd. she handed him a shirt and a new hat, rushing to cover him with it.

“let’s get out.”

jiwoo guided him out, away from the prying eyes in the darkness, before the power went back on. the backdoor was empty, leaving only wooyoung and jiwoo. jiwoo kept holding onto wooyoung, pulling him as they ran for their car a few blocks down. wooyoung almost threw himself into the car, sighed loudly when he felt the leather seat touched his back.

“what the fuck was that?” he spat out to jiwoo.

“you tell me! how’d you get chased by those guys? i thought we’re doing this quietly?” she spat back.

“that was the plan, but you failed to hold them back.”

jiwoo rolled her eyes. “no, you failed to realize that they have more security than what you think.”

“the fuck was that supposed to mean? i had mingi and san check everything before we go in. and they're doing a bidding for the ledgers anyways.” wooyoung hit back, making her sigh before explaining.

“you were already far into the club when i found out that the bidding is for tomorrow, so the ledger being there was still a top secret until tonight. reaching out would be risky, and i couldn’t explain it that fast, so i had to do plan c.”

“plan c?”

“i broke into their cctvs and jammed the whole thing so there’s no track of you, then cut out the power to get you out of there.”

he contemplated her answers for a while. sighing again, wooyoung laid back to his chair, trying to ease his breathing.

“thank you.” he said defeatedly.

“we’re partners. i protect you, and you protect me woo,” she shrugged. “now move your ass and let me drive. you’re hurt.”

“huh?”

he glanced towards his body trying to find the hurting part. he reached behind his shoulder, wincing when felt a cut wound along his upper shoulder blade. blood was evident on his fingertips when he pulled them back. it must be enemies’ knife cutting through when they fought, and didn’t realize up until jiwoo point it out.

“just a scratch.”

“yeah well that scratch probably needs a few stitches. c’mon.”

jiwoo moved into the driver’s seat, then drove the car away from the chaotic club. for a while, no one said a word, except wooyoung when he gave a call to san about the mission. the sight of endless trees and dark road made him drowsy, and soon he fell into his slumber.

“hey, wake up.”

wooyoung jolted awake, blinking his sleepiness away after jiwoo woke him up. he looked around in confusion, realizing they’re not back at their base.

“where are we?”

“other town nearby. let’s be safe and make sure they lost our tracks completely,” she pushed his seat back to create more space before shimmying herself into the tight spot. “take your shirt off.”

“w-what?”

the comical look in his eyes made jiwoo laughed as she reached for his shirt.

“yo! yes you’re hot–“

“i’m hot?” she chuckled.

“yes, no– shit– i got a wife ji–“

“’m not trying to fuck, silly. i’m trying to fix your wound. now take the damn shirt off.”

with jiwoo's determination, he had no choice but to take off his shirt hesitantly, glancing back to jiwoo, “look away.”

“shut the fuck up i've literally seen your body when we spar.”

off his shirt goes, showing his skin that glows under the yellow lights. jiwoo handed him a soju to distract him from the pain as she stitch his wound up. he winced a couple of times when the needle poked through his skin, but he held on.

jiwoo’s fingertips are cold, soothing to his hot wounded skin. despite the harsh words, she’s light with her hands. the sound of his and her quiet breathing filled the air.

“the pharmacist said there’s a motel just down the road, maybe we should crash there for the night.”

maybe it’s the soju he downed to the last drop. maybe he lost too much blood because of that wound. maybe it’s the fact that he’s half naked, tipsy, and jiwoo is wearing a red, absolutely sexy dress, but holy fuck, did jung wooyoung just glitched in the brain at the mention of a motel and staying the night out with another woman.

“why?”

“it’s almost 2 in the morning.” she murmured. “the drive to the base would take 2 to 3 hours, and honestly i’m tired. you’re wounded and no doubt tipsy, i’m not about to let us crash somewhere down the road.”

that makes sense. but he had other ideas, as he reached out to the console, trying to find his phone. maybe someone could fetch them up, wooyoung thought. he tapped on the screen a couple of times, clicking on the power button but to no avail. the screen stayed dark.

“shit, my phone’s dead.” he glanced towards jiwoo who just shrugged.

“mine’s dead too.”

and no one thought of bringing a charger with them.

he groaned, leaning back to his seat. after a few beat of silence, he just nodded. “well, i guess we have no choice.”

somewhere in him, it feels wrong. like something is poking through his chest as jiwoo drove down the road, right to the said motel and parked the car. like there’s an unseen stop sign in him, reminding him to not to do it as jiwoo pulled him to the motel room.

but what could go wrong? wooyoung doesn’t like jiwoo in that way.

not even the way she took her dress off carelessly in front of him, opting to change into a bathrobe that’s not even tied properly. not the way he clearly saw her pair of underwear.

shit.

but no, he doesn’t like her like that. and he’s sure of that. yet, the blaring sound of siren kept playing in his mind, reminding him that this isn’t right.

but perhaps it’s the soju that calmed the siren down, as he doze off into his slumber once again.

jung wooyoung woke up that morning, with a headache and pain on his shoulder. and that dull thing poking through his chest, and the same siren blasted again in his head when he saw himself; splayed on the bed half naked, with jiwoo and her loose robe, limbs tangled with each other underneath the sheets.

nothing happened last night, he's damn sure of it and remembered every single second that passed before he fell asleep.

yet, still, he doesn’t like this feeling.

“are you okay?”

younghoon nudged you, who immediately woke up from the empty daydream you had just now.

“huh?”

“you’ve been out of it for like, a solid 5 minutes. are you okay? did my father say something to offend you?”

“no. nothing important.”

yes. it was something that could change her whole life.

you sighed, “it’s just… i forgot to tell wooyoung that i’m staying out last night. he hates sleeping alone.” she lied. though, not entirely. she did forgot to tell wooyoung about the whole staying out for the night last night. wooyoung would absolutely gone batshit, but judging from the lack of his messages on your phone, he might not have known it yet. which is strange.

guilt bubbled up in younghoon, easily seen through his eyes. “i’m really sorry about last night. my father… tend to get too friendly and would sometimes step over the boundaries, like insisting for you to stay the night. i should’ve said no and took you home. god, he even made you stay up late.” he grumbled.

“it’s okay, he meant well. i just forgot to tell wooyoung, that’s all.”

“when i drop you off, i’ll explain everything to wooyoung and hongjoong, so they won’t have any weird ideas about it.” younghoon said, “you’re a married woman after all. we don’t want any trouble.”

you smiled and nodded, “thank you for the offer. i’d be thankful.”

younghoon smiled back, and continued driving towards ateez mansion, as you fall back to yet another set of daydreaming, or, more specifically contemplating your whole existence after the talk with younghoon’s father last night.

over some of his words.

01.59 am

a sigh almost left your mouth, along with a yawn, but you held back as best as you could. after all, you’re presented before kim younghoon’s father, the senior in kim’s family and not to mention one of the prominent figure in the business.

but you have no regrets, all the time passed wasn’t for nothing. and he’s a pleasant man.

“you work diligently, younghoon have said this a lot. he’s not easy to get close with,” the man chuckled, “well, it’s a shame that you’re married. i would’ve offered my son to you, he seemed intrigued.”

“you flatter me, sir. and more often than not, younghoon is the one who helped me a lot since i got into the business.”

he smiled, putting down his cup of tea. “so i’ve heard. ah, didn’t you meet younghoon through the lees?”

you nodded, “yes. lee juyeon, to be precise. though, i don’t know what younghoon has told you about it…”

“he told me everything. of why juyeon gave you to us, what you want and what he wanted. that boy,” he shook his head, tsk-ing, “ruthless as his father was. the whole people in the business had to tip toe around him if they want to be alive. jiyoung would never do that.” then he proceeded to say something that made you raise a brow.

“her child would never.”

“i thought that was just a rumor?”

the man smiled knowingly. “well, sweet lady, this old man here has a reason for supporting lee jiyoung when the sibling war happened, and still is, until now. i know a secret or two, things that others don’t know.” mr. kim explained with a longing gaze. “she’s my best friend, after all.”

“like, a secret marriage?”

you shoot your shot.

“i was one of the few to witness her marriage. she loved seo rim well, despite the fast that he’s just a bodyguard. going against his elder’s wishes of marrying someone more prominent in the business to secure her safety and her throne, me being one of them.”

“and now for that, she had to lose everything. but whatever people say, it was a lawful marriage.”

“seo rim?”

mr. kim laughed, “oh, oops. the name’s out i guess.”

you pressed him again, shooting your shot one more time. “but, what about the child? was it a girl or a boy? where are they?”

but to that question, mr. kim just shrugged. he downed his tea before filling his cup again. “dunno. but if i do, i’d protect them with all i have.”

you closed your mouth, only nodding to his answer. you laid back to your chair. the new information filled your head so it all circled your mind. secret marriage, possible offspring of lee jiyoung. seo rim. the name echoed in your mind. a name you never know before,

but now you do.

mr. kim hummed, staring into the fire in front of him, seemingly in his own mind. you stared at the old man, a few white strands of hair on his head, several lines on his face, and you wonder, what does it feels like to witness a war and survived. he lived long, enough to know the lee jiyoung, to witness things that others don’t. long enough to know people, wise enough to know what to do and what not.

hence the question.

“why me?”

“hm?”

“why did you tell me this? we just met today. and even if you do know me, it’s only from younghoon and that’s not even enough.” you murmured, “so why are you telling me this?”

the man hummed again. “because i know,” he said, making you raise a brow. he continued, “i know i can trust you.”

“where have you been?!”

san’s screeching voice was the first to greet wooyoung when he stepped out of his car with jiwoo. the said man had his hands on his hips, eagle eyes staring down judgingly at the two partners.

“bed’s empty, no note, car gone! you could’ve died!”

wooyoung massaged his temples. “now’s not the time to quote some harry potter line, san.” he groaned.

san shrugged. “it was a moment. and seriously, where have you been? you two! not even a text or a call, we were about to hunt you down!” he accusingly said. “you and y/n both, woo. thankfully y/n told us her whereabouts just this morning. but you? radio silent.”

“my phone died, and so did jiwoo’s.” wooyoung lifted his head when he realized san mentioned your name. “y/n did what?”

slowly, san lowered his hands from his hips. his eyes starting to grow wide with confusion in it. “she didn’t tell you?”

“tell me what?” wooyoung pressed.

“she’s staying out last night as well. at the kim’s.”

his brain short circuited, trying to process san’s words a couple of times. when he finally processed the whole sentences, it left him utterly dumbfounded.

“what?!”

just after he screamed, a black car stopped behind them. the sight of kim younghoon getting out of the car greeted them, along with you, whose door was held open by younghoon.

“speak of the devil.” san blurted.

wooyoung ignored his remarks, opting to trot his way to you. he threw a look on younghoon, before pulling you away from him.

“you didn’t come home last night? why? why didn’t you tell me?” he pressed, his hand still circling your wrist.

you quickly felt guilty. “i’m sorry love, it was younghoon’s father sudden invitation. i couldn’t really get my phone, that was my fault.” you ran your free hand over his bicep, trying to soothe the anger away. “won’t happen again. what time did you get home last night?”

“he stayed out as well.” san replied from behind you. your eyes widened, while he freezed.

“what? you didn’t tell me anything about it. what happened? wha-“ your palm acidentally touched to his shoulder blades, feeling the rough bandage underneath it, “were you hurt?”

but wooyoung turned away, pushing your hand lightly. “just a scratch, it doesn’t matter.” he turned his gaze back to you, once again giving you a questioning look. “why didn’t you come home? why would you stay at someone else’s place? baby, you’re my wife. what would other people say?”

younghoon slotted himself between the two of you. clearing his throat, he explained, “mr. jung, that was my fault. my father can be quite pushy, he insisted that mrs. jung must stay the night because he wanted her company and to talk. i’m sorry, i should’ve insisted on taking her home.”

“damn right you should’ve.” wooyoung spat, earning a slap on his chest from you.

“wooyoung!”

younghoon bowed slightly. “i’m sorry. i’ll make sure no one knows about this, and i’ll explain everything to hongjoong. if these words ever comes out i won’t hesitate to straighten things up and i certainly won’t let this ruin your or y/n’s reputations. once again, i’m sorry.” the man doesn’t even lift his head, bowing once again. “i’m sorry. excuse me.”

“hoon–“ you tried to call him but to no avail, as the man quickly got into his car and drove away. you watched in guilt as his black car went further. throwing a side eye at wooyoung, you detached yourself from him, grumbling as you walked away. he followed right behind you.

“i can’t believe you just did that!”

wooyoung scoffed. “am i not allowed to do that? you’re my wife, and your husband is questioning why were you staying the night at some other man’s house!”

stopping in your tracks, you turned back to glare at him. “i did nothing with younghoon, heck i even stayed at a different wing in his mansion!” you point your finger, “you were staying out last night as well! with your partner who, by the way is also a woman! did you see me complaining or accusing you of anything? no text no nothing, who knows what you did out there?”

…splayed on the bed half naked, with jiwoo and her loose robe, limbs tangled with each other underneath the sheets.

“how could you accuse me of cheating?we didn't do anything!”

“i didn’t even say the word. you put those in your own mouth.”

“i got injured, she was tired, both of our phones are dead, we had no choice but to stay out!”

“that’s exactly what happened to me! younghoon’s father wanted to speak, yes he’s a fucking pushover and that’s kinda annoying so i had no choice but to do as he says because he’s that important, but i did nothing other than talking.” you half shouted. “kim younghoon is an ally, woo. an important one right now. i’m not doing this for me, this whole thing is a business, but then you shouted at him, being completely unprofessional and irrational, i—“

you bit your lip, trying to held your emotions back. “if something goes wrong, hongjoong’s gonna be mad. i’m trying my best right now to gain his trust, to gain something for us, but y—“ you choked back your tears out of frustration, trying your best not to let out a single drop of it.

seeing how you almost broke down lessen his anger.

“baby….”

“you two, enough.”

hongjoong’s voice blared through the whole hallway, making you both turned your heads. you quickly wiped a single tear, trying to compose yourself.

hongjoong had his hands on his pocket, eyes icy as he stared down at the both of you.

“how many times do i have to tell you to keep your goddamn professionalism first in the business?” he gritted through his teeth. you and wooyoung could only stare at the floor beneath you. you heard a sigh coming out of hongjoong’s mouth.

“younghoon explained everything to me, even gave me a proof of y/n’s room. i know you’re angry, but you shouldn’t have shouted at him, woo. and y/n you should’ve known better than to stay at someone else’s place. the fuck is wrong with you two? i'm not even married but i at least know this.”

you and wooyoung could only turn away from hongjoong's gaze, clearly lost your faces.

he shook his head, opting to leave the problem behind. “make up later, however it is. now, you both clean after yourselves, especially you, y/n.” he pointed at you, “you have a lunch reservation with lee juyeon. i approved it for you. i’ll pick you up after for a meeting with stray kids.”

“she just came back from younghoon, now she has to go out with another man again?”

hongjoong only stared at him. “i said stay professional.” he said, before he turned back and walked away.

there’s something sour left in his tongue.

he’s fully aware of the cause, he just couldn’t say it out loud. so he just sat there on the edge of the bed, watching as you prepare yourself.

the both of you talked and sort things out, explaining each problems while you changed his bandage for a fresher one. both of you talked about how it was unavoidable, things you’ve said before, just with cool heads.

but it still left something unpleasant.

you were stepping into a nice green dress, zipping it up. you strapped your heels, then fixed your makeup. a little blush here and there, your hand danced oh so delicately across your face, it would’ve make him all giddy if it wasn’t for the fact that you were about to go out with some other man.

you caught him staring at you from the vanity mirror, the hardness on his face was unmistakable. you sighed as you turned around, walking towards him. wooyoung turned his gaze to the floor, so you reached for his hands, cradling in it your own.

bringing his knuckles to your lips, you kissed it. “i know you’re upset.” you murmured. he stayed quiet, so you continued.

“i don’t know when will all of this stop. but remember the promise we made? hm?” you cradled his face. “i’ll do anything to keep us together and safe. because i love you, and i need you to understand that there’ll be no one other than you.” you pressed.

“others don’t matter. just you.”

you looked at his lips, crouched down to give him a soft kiss. though a little unresponsive, he gave into the kiss.

“i love you too.” he murmured into your lips.

the same words came from the both of your lips. the both of you truly are each other’s halves, in one heart, in one mind, in one act.

even when the same unpleasant feelings resides in both of your hearts, and you both refused to address it.

kim younghoon: i’m sorry about this morning. y/n: it’s alright. i’m sorry my husband shouted at you. we’ve talked abt it tho kim younghoon: it’s okay. he did the right thing. (typing…) (typing…) (typing…) kim younghoon: he’s ur husband, i understand y/n: thank you kim younghoon: y/n y/n: yes? (typing…) (typing…) kim younghoon: we’re still up for tomorrow? y/n: yes. i’ll see u soon.

“ah! if it’s not the rising star of ateez.”

juyeon gleamed as soon as he saw you, smile so wide his eyes smiled with him. and to your surprise, he quickly reached for your hand, planting a kiss on your knuckles.

your husband, who escorted you there was right behind you with hongjoong. both of them were stunned at the sight.

but before anyone could say anything, juyeon excused himself, “i’m sorry mr. jung, i don’t mean anything bad. it’s just, i’m really happy to see y/n. i’ve never been so connected in conversations other than with her.” he grinned, “though, if she was available i’d definitely try my luck.”

he laughed, forcing everyone to laugh with him.

hongjoong spoke, “well, we understand. she’s pleasant to be with, perhaps that’s why our wooyoung loves her so.” he nudged wooyoung, “isn’t that right, woo?”

“yes.” he replied dryly, earning a glare and a squeeze on his shoulder. but he couldn't care less.

“well,” juyeon clasped his hand together, “we should go in. i’m starving, and i wish to have a good conversation today with y/n. if i may?”

juyeon offered his hand to you. glancing between juyeon and wooyoung, you have no choice but to take juyeon’s hand, careful in not looking too eager. you threw a guilty look at him.

while walking inside, you typed a quick text.

y/n: i’m sorry. i had no idea he’d do that, he never does y/n: i’m so sorry baby y/n: it doesn’t mean a thing to me

ding

woo: it’s ok. (typing…) (typing…) woo: come home whenever ur done.

23.47 pm.

you glanced at your watch, sighing defeatedly. you definitely won’t be home as quick as you wanted today.

you already miss wooyoung. but you have to do this.

the alleyway was dark. the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement echoed in the air. the small restaurant was about to close, the light about to go off altogether. you lightly knocked on the door. “excuse me.” you called.

a buffed looking man came out from the kitchen, a knife on his hand. “we’re closing. what do you want?” he gruffly said.

“uhm, sorry,” you stuttered, “is mr. kim’s soju… no,” you quickly regained yourself.

“i want to talk to the soju maker himself, mr. kim. there’s this… old soju i’m looking for, which i don’t know the brand is.”

the big man stood there for a while, processing your words. he went back to the kitchen, and you heard some murmurs before he came back outside, now smiling. “mr. kim is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

the man escorted you inside, through the messy wet kitchen up until a door. he knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. “come in.” a baritone voice responded. he opened the door, ushering you to come in, before closing the door.

an old man sat on his study, his white hair tousled and a pair of glasses sat on top of his nose. his weary eyes studied your form.

“it’s been a while since someone used that code. soju maker…” he chuckled. “people usually looks for fresher soju, something done, but now you’re looking for something older. tell me, what are you looking for miss?”

he pointed the chair across him, signaling you to take a seat. putting aside your handbag, you took a seat. there’s a beat of silence, before you let your voice out.

“it’s a who, sir.” you said, before continuing.

“i’m looking for seo rim.”

(to be continued)

—

damnnnn 8 months. i have no words for myself fr😩🤚

i hope y guys still enjoy this. i feel like i should add more things, but i’m afraid it’ll make the whole thing stale ykwim

but we’re getting CLOSER and CLOSER to the main problem, aka the timeline when y/n got shot (mafia!woo y/n caught in the crossfire), which is the very first fic that started this all

anyways. TOODLES. enjoy

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