#tamedflames

[acoraxia]

Being delulu is the way to get by in life remember that guys

[orchdaries]

to @tamedflame with ♡

     the night of the blood moon is an event that had aera excited not because of the perspective of having her bending abilities enhanced before they're taken away from them during the night but because the night of the black moon means a beautiful dinner and an even more beautiful garden party. aera herself has always been more of a social butterfly than a wallflower so it's given that she'd love any events that involved socializing with other houses, going around greeting lords, ladies and lieges that she doesn't have much of an opportunity in other scenarios, besides interacting with her own friends of course, having the chance to see them in a much more formal attire and therefore in a much prettier version of them than she normally would.

     even though that isn't the case for chanyul since she was assigned as one of his healers — most likely due to their proximity when they were younger —, aera is still excited to see her old friend in the party. she's on her second glass of wine, barely started sipping on it but there's already a healthy flush to her cheeks and she can feel a different kind of euphoria filling her chest, one that made her tongue a little more loose even if not enough to cause a scene, just enough to create some fun memories that she might or might not feel embarrassed about the next day.

     " your grace . " even tipsy, aera still remembers her manners when greeting the prince. as soon as that formality is done with, it's obvious how she changes to a more friendly and relaxed posture; one that suits the kind of friendship a little better. of course that they aren't as close as they were back when they were kids, still somewhat trying to find how to navigate their friendship again but it doesn't mean that they aren't trying, that by each interaction that they have, they don't get a little closer than before, even more so when aera found something that they could bond over.

     " are you enjoying your evening ? " aera asks, half genuinely curious and half wanting to find an opening to what she actually wants to talk about. " mine just started so i can't be too sure , however my morning was simply lovely . " she can't help the giggles that escape from her lips at the end of her words simply from remembering what exactly happened for her to feel that her morning was that blessed. " did you see commander zhao ? " she asks however doesn't really wait for an answer, reaching out to hold onto chanyul's sleeve like an overexcited child retelling how she got extra dessert after dinner. " he had the prettiest smile today , so much so i'm sure even the sun felt dazzled by its brilliance . "

[ignitxr]

A GENUINE LACK OF EXPERIENCE @tamedflame

Her parents thought this would be a simple task, considering her ability to socialize effortlessly in the court. Oh, how they were wrong. While it was indeed true that Wanning was confident in social settings and could entertain and small talk for hours, her target of conversations was mostly women. Families, poetry, art, and jewelry. Fashion, tea, history, and dreams. She knew very well what ladies liked discussing. Now, men, she had absolutely no clue what was on their minds...perhaps, horses?

Wanning smiled to herself, amused by the thought of a discussion regarding horses when around here, people could ride on dragons. At times she was envious.

House Yue was secretly in opposition to Yi House's rule. They waited patiently for the opportunity to bring down the royal family but until then, wished to employ the the strategy of keeping their enemies closer. Someone (her mother) had the brilliant idea that Wanning should vie for the attention of Prince Chanyul in hopes of gaining an ally and she was eventually convinced into an agreement.

Truth to be told, Wanning did not wish to do it. Her preferred battlefield was an honest one, where victory would be secured by arrows, not lies. Besides, Prince Chanyul was as kind as he was handsome. He had not shown any negative traits that would alleviate Wanning of her guilt. In fact, if presented with a choice, she would much rather attempt to seduce a dreadful man of oily flesh and poor hygiene, someone full of ego as well as vile words.

"My prince!" Oh look, so lost in her thoughts, she'd nearly forgotten her manners. Wanning found her smile as she dipped in a bow of greeting - it was a genuine smile for the most part. Prince Chanyul was not a difficult company and conversations tended to run smoothly. At times she was fond of their time together, despite her mind still constantly pondering upon the real question: how should one go about seducing you, my Prince? I doubt there's anything on me that you haven't already seen.

"Shall we dance?" It was a banquet, after all. Wanning took a spin to show off the full flow of her dress. "A little different from the last time you saw me." The last time they met, it was at a less formal event. Wanning wore a plain outfit and had her hair tied back with her usual crimson ribbon instead of wearing jeweled pins with tassels. "Which version of my look do you prefer?"

[afterburning]

in amity.

ft. @tamedflame

the sun’s still on the rise when jiyu climbs the steps towards surya arena, but the streets are crowded, with nobles eager to warm up and others scrambling for the best seats. jiyu’s bothered by neither; he’d agreed to spot keran, but his place in the arena is saved and it’s not like he’ll be participating. sometimes (rarely) his greatest failure is a blessing in disguise. at least his nerves remain unfraught.

when he finally gets there, chanyul’s loitering at the outskirts of the crowd. jiyu glances up: there’s still time left until he has to join his sister. if she were around, he wouldn’t approach. as is, chanyul and him have bonded over things he wouldn’t dream of telling his siblings back home, and that sort of relationship requires saving in dire circumstances, like impending death by boredom. chanyul looks fine, but jiyu knows exactly where colonel kim is headed, and that woman has a talent for droning on and on until her victims’ thoughts have gone buttery soft and abstract. jiyu’s imagined himself strangling her on several occasions, and feels justified in doing so.

so he quickens his stride to make sure he gets there first. once he’s caught chanyul’s attention he makes for the sort of formal bow he has to show in public, although the effect is ruined by him still walking. he grasps at chanyul’s shoulder and, with a firm tug, turns him away from the crowd, leaning close to talk. “your grace. kim’s coming your way.” a glance over his shoulder confirms that she’s not been stopped by his interference. jiyu’s been taught to drown with the ship (a commander doesn’t flee), but he’d rather they don’t start sinking in the first place.

[chrysanths]

⸻ @tamedflame

In the most recent passing days, Geonwoo comes to ponder upon his true feelings concerning his profession. He takes immense pride in his position; knowing himself to be one of the Fire Nation's most formidable to be granted such a role. However, there are instances in which he can feel the regret creeping at his toes. His body has been honed over the years to be sturdy as a tree trunk, able to withstand the heaviest of blows and longest of days. And yet, a waver makes itself known in his legs.

He feels his eyes grow heavy, head bob to the side and— he clears his throat, startled by his own doze. Several blinks and a widening of his eyes jolts him back from the seductive fingers of dream world. One glance around would serve him a reminder of where he is. Trapped, he would say, within four walls of some extravagantly decorated bedroom. With honor from House Bae, each noble had been granted accommodations in the coming days before their illustrious banquet. The children of House Yi ( of course ) are housed in the most luxurious of spaces. Certainly no match for the royal household in Hari Bulkan but its interior is impressive. More than a man like Geonwoo would ever dream to stay in.

His special assignment to guard Prince Chanyul ( and the other members of the royal family ) only gives him a small peak into the life of unfettered opulence. Servants flit about the room with various items of clothing. They hold it up to the prince's body to see how it may fit for his banquet outfit. Outer robes, silk sashes, shoes with ornate designs. The man finds the repetitive notion of dressing and undressing in pieces one would not walk out and wear a daunting task.

Gods, free me now... or make the sun grow dark and end this suffering.

"Your grace," through grit teeth, he speaks at last; leaning over the prince's shoulder as he sits. Geonwoo's hands remain clasped tightly behind his back. "Dinner will be served soon, on the hour."

[divinetrcgedy]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ⸻ the bae's emerald teahouse was undoubtedly alive with revelry as once the feast finally commenced after the crown prince's opening speech, the teahouse have turned into a riot of colors and sounds where a symphony of laughter and music echoed through the air as all the noble lords and ladies wined and dined to their hearts content without a single care for the world. yerim, ever so glittering and shinning, had been exchanging a round of pleasantries with an entourage of highborn ladies whilst she spew empty compliments drenched in honeyed flattery from her rosy tiers over their dresses and masks alike when her dark eyes couldn't help but to caught sight of an old friend.

prince yi chanyul himself, standing at the quiet edge of the hall — a rather rare scene for yerim who'd always see surrounded by a crowd of nobles, lords and ladies alike vying for his attention. yerim, who could never pass up a chance to catch up with an old friend, eventually excused herself politely from the group before sauntering foward to approach the prince.

❝  good evening, your grace. ❞ her voice is nothing but the lilt of a melodious songbird as she greeted him with a small curtsy, all poised and ladylike before settling into her usual teasing self with her roseate lips painting themselves into the most mischievous of smiles. ( how fitting was it that her mask was none other than a fox, the trickster of all animals ) ❝ why, isn't this a rather rare sight? where have your usual crowds of adoring nobles have gone, my prince? or have you finally warned them off with your dragon? ❞

𝑳𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑻𝑶, @tamedflame

[wvthering]

with hyungjun @tamedflame at house ito residence

sometimes suguru feels like a strange in his own house. he spends so much time working, walking around, with friends that being in house ito's residence is a change of pace. he was raised a lord and as such he knows the rules of hospitality, that any guests should be brought to their large tea room and offered food and beverage. but suguru thinks he can skip formalities with hyungjun, they've known each other for long enough for it not to be considered rude.

so instead of taking his friend to any room, suguru takes him to the courtyard, where he and other ito family members practice. it's a large space with a shaded area covered by trees and with comfortable chairs for when the head of house decides to watch his men practice, make sure they are up to the high standards house ito sets for itself.

now, however, it's just the two of them in the afternoon, almost evening. a servant brings them tea, and though suguru would rather drink alcohol he has promised rei he will abstain for a while, until his arm is better, so he makes do with what he has.

"you missed quite the party." he raises his arm as a way to show what he means. it's almost better, not quite, and the quite is killing him – suguru won't be himself again until he's able to hold both swords. "i bet you're happy you had so many important work things to do," he says, half teasing. hyungjun is always so focused, a feeling he can understand. not exactly, for suguru would rather fight than spend his days behind a desk, but everyone must do what they're good at. "thanks for coming to check on me, by the way. you didn't have to."

[dcrkbloods]

@tamedflame

the conversations being held throughout the gardens were of little interest to hyeseong as he meandered around. he had exhausted most of his options for the rest of the night, and himself. he'd rubbed his eyes once or twice and had been walking around with the remnants of the makeup on the back of his hand. undoubtedly sobering up and going back and forth on whether or not he should fix that. one thing he would be fixing was his face.

as thrilling and amusing as the night had been thus far he was ready to go home, but there was still that voice in the back of his mind begging him to stay for one more drink. he let out a deep sigh and glanced up at the palace and into the sky painting a dark scene behind it. the sun wasn't even close to reappearing, but he wished it was.

he removed the paint from his eyes and lips with a cloth he'd bothered one of the palace staff for, and took up even more of the man's time making him hold up a reflective dish to hyeseong's face as he wiped it away. as he grabbed another glass of the dark wine he'd been entertaining himself with all evening he scoped out someone to share the final round with. would it actually be his last glass?

his eyes stopped on a somewhat familiar face. a face he had associated with a bittersweet memory, but that was the prince's twin he found more of that memory in. hyeseong wasn't at all that close with him either, so the idea he'd conjured up on his walk over to him wasn't foolproof.

"your grace, you don't appear all that busy." hyeseong moved his hands around to motion at the lack of companions, or maybe his approaching presence sent them elsewhere. "care to join me for a drink and a walk? i'd rather not go seeking out those nasty spirits alone."

[acoraxia]

Thought of something stupider because I went to grab pictures of the girl but I instead found Xiantong instead and like.

Uhm

Listen

thought of the most STUPID crackship for red son oh my god….

[afterburning]

until death.

hari bulkan, zhao residence; ft. @tamedflame

chanyul comes to him in the afternoon, after jiyu’s gone through his forms and met with his superiors. he’s doing well considering the circumstances, which really isn’t saying much. back on his feet and back to work, or what he can do of it anyway; jiyu’s not a man made to sit still and wait for the future. he gets impatient when he calms himself to meditate, lets his thought wander in prayer - it should be expected that he wouldn’t take this opportunity to rest.

his friend finds him at the desk in his rooms, one foot drawn up to rest on the chair and his chin pillowed on his knee. in front of him is a book, old enough that he’s worried about it falling apart with his touch. jiyu likes to read, but he seldom is in the right mood for it, and he’s not combing through the pages for pleasure, either. there’s a method to it: he truns them efficiently, scans the contents for any mention of his affliction. it’s useless, but he feels better with purpose than without.

if he had expected company, he might’ve had the servants prepare refreshments, and otherwise dressed more presentable. but chanyul’s seen him looking worse countless of times, and jiyu can’t deny that he’s grateful for the distraction. when he looks up and nods at chanyul, much more informal than he really should act with a child of the crown, bordering on disrespect - jiyu can’t find it in himself to care.

“your grace.” there’s nothing to gain here; he closes the book. stands, belatedly, and bows, and then ends up drumming his fingertips against the table. he’s been feeling so restless lately. “i hear you’re looking to marry?”

[orchdaries]

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚞𝚕:

[ ... ] "i did see lord jiyu,” he admits. he knows that jiyu is attractive, in his serious and reliable way with his dark eyebrows and strong physique, and he feels somewhat responsible for validating her feelings. in truth, aera is a lovely woman, and she’d be good for jiyu. while he does not know what she’s waiting for before confessing, he understands that it might feel safer for now to admire him from afar. should she ask, he’d be happy to attempt to play matchmaker, though he supposes she may not have asked due to chanyul’s own ... lack of success in the matters of love. “he did seem like he was in a good mood today. and he’s quite handsome when he smiles.” he gives her a knowing smile. “what did you two talk about ?”

     " oh no no no . " aera is quick to deny any interaction with jiyu that morning, one of her hands coming to her cheek, feeling it get warmer while the other accepts chanyul's arm offered to her and positioning herself at this side instead of in front of him. " how could i ? he seemed busy . " she explains even though another reason for not going up and talking to the older zhao was that just the thought of interacting with him outside of their little ritual of hey can you fix this? and yes, of course! or even their hi, this is your tea of the month! and thank you and whatever small conversation that aera can get out of those little interactions was more than enough to have a kaleidoscope of butterflies making a full ball on her stomach. besides, well, commander zhao did seem a little busy with his friends and aera didn't want to disturb when they weren't that close.

     it's in those moments that aera realizes that maybe they haven't changed as much as she thought they did. after all it must mean something that they're able to still talk about silly things like that. the thing of choi aera and yi chanyul is that, even though they bickered and teased each other endlessly, they still feed off each other's energy quite well. they simply had enough in common not only in taste but also personality that simply clicked and it shows; it shows that hasn't changed and as a matter of fact might've been reinforced by the fact they hold affection for the same man.

     of course that aera knows how rumors can be fabricated, simply consequences of bad spread information done intentionally or not, after all there was a rumor not long ago of her and keran getting married; however either due to her wishful thinking or to her ability to pick up certain details of people when it's something that interests her (and of course that romance is going to be one of those things), she sees actual evidences that this one particular rumor might be true, the fact that chanyul was there smiling at her while indulging her talk about jiyu's smile is more than enough proof that there is something there. besides it'd definitely help the story line of their stories if chanyul ended up with jiyu and keran ended up with geonwoo.

     " have you spoken to him ? " aera questions her friend in return; although she knows better than to ask for details of a conversation between a prince and a military commander, it doesn't mean she won't find another ways to be nosy about this. " you said he was in a good mood so— " she puts a hand to cover her slightly open mouth, a gasp escaping her lips that almost sounds like an excited squeak. " don't tell me ! did you make him laugh ? "

[flashflames]

tamedflame:

“what do you mean, you ‘should have lost’ ?” the question hangs in the air like a bruised cloud. what she says next also gives him pause: i thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore. his lips settle into a slight frown at those words, and he squashes the urge to immediately tell her that she has it all wrong. but the truth is something that cannot be so succinctly expressed; and in the years that they had not spoken, it’s grown to the point that he can hardly get his jaws around it all. chanyul does not know how he feels about her, not completely, nor does he know where to begin in articulating his thoughts. what he did know, in that heartbeat of a moment between winning and losing, was that the thought of closing the door on them — whatever they might mean to each other — felt impermissibly permanent. ���keran—“ he wants to find the right words to tell keran that he has only ever wanted to understand her, that despite their immaturity in their youth, he had seen her as a partner in later years. that when he saw their future laid out for them, piece by piece, at some point, it stopped being something that he dreaded. he thinks of the gifts they had exchanged, even those earlier ones that were still painstakingly chosen by his hand even if they were placed in her soft palms with an unimpressed pout on his small features, her rare smiles that gradually became more common as the years passed. it wasn’t love; or, at least it wasn’t the kind of love he’d seen between his mothers, the kind that he would have wanted for himself. but keran was important to him. admittedly, chanyul knows it was the thought that it could have all been solely on his end that burned in his chest. the humiliating, terrifying possibility that he could have been the only one happy to shoulder the weight of these feelings, their responsibility to each other, when keran was more than willing to rid herself of them when given the first opportunity. it wasn’t love, certainly not the kind performed in plays or written about in songs, but it was something. he will never be able to verbally express what it meant to him. so, he won’t try. they're already close enough that chanyul hardly needs to move. he tilts forward, his lips easily finding keran's, as though guided by magnetic attraction. he pulls away slowly, not really wanting to, but he can’t risk more than this. chanyul already regrets his actions. he kissed keran without asking. while she was in distress and desiring nothing more than answers from him, no less. he should’ve had better self-control. used his words. and now he can’t bring himself to meet her eyes, expecting keran to be staring at him, confused and perhaps revolted.

they were ten and eleven when they agreed that love should not have felt so underwhelming, even with a meeting of their lips. the fleeting warmth outweighed by the shudders they took in their childish understanding of love, wiping her lips away and running to tattle to aera about the foreign sensation. it's been more than a decade since then, and this time it feels like she's kissed a stinging nettle, sweet despite the sharp burn of it, all of her breath stolen from her now.

he'd asked her a question, but keran doesn't have a good answer for it—or any answer, fleeing from her mind with the function of her lungs. she just hadn't meant to win. the same way she hadn't meant to leave, except for a breath of fresh air one night, and that had turned into the full cycle of a moon and more, into a revolution of their nation around the sun. it wasn't chanyul she thought she was leaving behind. there was no version of her future without his laughter sticking to his teeth, or the frown she learnt he made specifically in her presence. he's just always been there, ever present in the corner of her mind. in a box marked for them to open up into a home one day, even when she lived in the urban centre, and when she returned, unaware that their engagement had been recalled. even now, as he kisses her, still tangled up in their past, and their lost future.

how is she supposed to say all of that? it feels easier, almost like an escape to follow down the path he's already shown her once. she presses her lips to his once more in lieu of an explanation, as if what comes out may replace her words. the way her lips shape around his, forming an i missed you, or i'm sorry. it isn't long enough to keep count of all of the things she hadn't thought to say, but keran's grip over his collar loosens when she finally pulls away.

"i will—" she takes a breath, run out of air from what she's just dared to do. a single breath doesn't help to collect herself at all, when her heart is demanding the rest of it. "i'll see you at the tournament," she says quickly, standing up over him. "or another time." she feels, suddenly, quite foolish. an overconfident komodo rhino cub who's just discovered a bigger animal than itself exists, the looming size of what she's feeling taking her by surprise.

but keran doesn't shy away from a challenge, or the mounting confusion of what beats steadily. if it's big, she's determined to simply be bigger. "you lost, so you have to hear me out. next– next time." she's not beating a retreat. just—turning back to form a plan. she meets his eyes, insistent and waiting, and the faintest tinge of hope that sparkles in the sun.

[afterburning]

hyungjun @tamedflame, sarang

“why do you ask? why were you even at the ceremony?” she questions before turning to face jiyu. “were you there too? was i the only one who decided not to go?”

“the new yi is pretty. might be worth giving her a shot.” jiyu says this idly, cutting into sarang’s anti-yi tirade, mostly to rile her up. reaches for his drink while he’s at it, and plays one of his cards - if he’s been counting properly he’s in a comfortable lead, set to win in a round or two. he might draw it out, though. let hyungjun and sarang get a scent of hope. “sarang, stop peeking. junnie’s got no chance of winning this hand anyway.”

he grins, nudges sarang’s elbow when she turns on him, and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “of course i wasn’t. it’s not me the prince might make eyes at.” but the news had been relayed to him even so. “can you imagine? me, vying for his hand? really, sarang, keran would skin me alive.”

not to mention that he’s got no interest in the prince, whom he’ll always see as a little brother. the thought is ridiculous. “but, jun, what were you doing there then, huh? don’t tell us you’ve got news?”

[angstandhappiness]

GORGEOUS DISCIPLES AND 😂 THE TRIO'S FACES

Being delulu is the way to get by in life remember that guys

[flashflames]

tamedflame:

as any good fighter would, keran takes the opening as soon as she sees it, and chanyul's slammed down onto his back before he can process the movement. and yet, he finds that he cannot blame his lack of words on just the fact that the wind has been knocked out of him. for all of his strengths, those curated parts of his personality meant to shine polished and perfected on a shelf — having a silver tongue has never been one of them. his natural inclination has always been to act first and use his words as embellishment second, and his gut has rarely ever steered him in the wrong direction. on the rare occasion that it didn't — well those incidents have never felt worth dwelling upon. they were the exception and not the rule, and those failures were set aside and analyzed later so as to not repeat them. though it's not the most ideal pattern of thought, it's one that has served him well; in the midst of a battle, decisiveness is key, to falter is to lead his men into a certain death. there’s a spark in his throat. half a thought, one he can’t allow to catch and burn, lest it consume him whole. it’s difficult to smother that almost-longing, the nearly-was and the should-have-been. to look at her is to stare directly into the sun which blooms around her head, catching onto her hair like fire. it's easy to define the feeling that wells within him as anger. in truth, anger would be easier to deal with, it comes to him as easily as it leaves him. even in his youth, a scorned chanyul could be coaxed into a smile by little more than a compliment or a handful of sweets. this — this hot, fistful of feathers in his stomach — there's no name for that, not one that he'd be able to name without looking inwards, and chanyul has refused to revisit anything in his heart or mind marked with keran's fingerprints for several years. he pushes himself up onto one elbow, biting back his immediate urge to say something childish. the movement inadvertently brings his face closer to hers, which he dutifully attempts to ignore. "you've won," he points out instead. and who the fuck cares how it happened? his eyes drift to her lips for some forlorn reason he cannot begin to unpack. when he realizes, his eyes snap up to meet hers, red coloring his cheeks. "is that sufficient ?"

she's missed chanyul so terribly that finally seeing him feels like an overindulgence, greedily taking him in and going too fast, like a child who's eaten too many red bean cakes and is left with a stomachache. it's been three years since she returned, since keran sought him out too late and met his cold gaze with their familiar banter, only to receive a stranger's response and silence in between. she still can't read his expression, but he doesn't look like a stranger, right now.

"no." she doesn't have enough words, for the explanation she now owes him. keran hadn't considered the idea of her winning at all, when she planned on throwing the match and leaving him alone. but chanyul has always been a fiddling brick to her best laid plans. first when they were new to the world, suddenly tied together in the same direction by their parents. and now that that connection has disappeared, he still manages to trip her up in a way that she cannot, for the life of her, understand why she doesn't want to let go of.

there is an absence in her life, the missingness of chanyul like a permanent ache she can't rub a salve over. so keran cannot bring herself to move away, to rise and help him up as would be proper fighting etiquette. she stays, breath starting where his ends. "you should've won."

keran has not been many things before in her life. a coward was never one of them. so she refuses to back down even when he moves closer, keeping her eyes over chanyul's, following his gaze down to the same place his rests on her lips, back up again to the red that makes his cheeks look sweeter than her memories remember the ruddy cheeked child on their first meeting. "i was going to lose, because i was— because i should have lost." he knows what losing means to her. "i thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

she dares look at him as she says it, can't help herself but want to take him in for as long as she is able to. chanyul's dark eyes look alight with an emotion she doesn't know is reflected in her own.