#but like do y’all not trust your mutuals lmao
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Another day another slay (harringrove winning a ship poll that got people very angry) 💅🏻
#how does she do it!!!#the fact it made it to big st*ddie blogs too this time and they still came in 3rd I have to laugh#i know it’s because people have harringrove blacklisted and in the tags b*lers said they had st*ddie blacklisted too#but like do y’all not trust your mutuals lmao#only reason I see these polls is cuz someone will reblog and i go ‘now tb why wouldn’t post about that ship affectionately….’#anyway yay for us god bless
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Astro-Observation - Leadership vs. Confidence
If I read “you’re a born leader” with Leo/Capricorn/Aries/Sagittarius placements one more goddamn time I swear…
Having natural confidence isn’t mutually exclusive with wanting to lead people. Sometimes these placements come off as leaders because they attract attention, which they may or may not like. I’m sorry, but unless there are placements that are more on the humanitarian side of the zodiac in someone’s chart, the Leo/Cap/Aries/Sag people more often than not are relishing in the benefits and power of status and popularity than anything else. That doesn’t make them heartless, they’re just real about it. Having public recognition is thrilling for these placements and there’s nothing wrong with that! Don’t sugarcoat it by calling them “leaders”. How many Instagram influencers would you call “leaders”? They’re entrepreneurs and personalities.
Leadership comes with a cause. Confidence comes with power.
I get that “born leader” shit because of my Leo ASC vibes, but I wouldn’t even have a modicum of patience for people if I didn’t have my wonderful Cancer dom mother (with an Aqua moon) raising me and teaching me the value of caregiving and not abusing your power while doing so, which I think reflects my Mars in Cancer and Aqua stellium (Sun, Merc, and Sat). BUT do I genuinely enjoy leading and taking care of people? My Aries in Venus says fuck to the no with my Leo ASC and Sag NN. My Gemini moon shows how I can switch from one to the other too depending on the social situation, but trust me, I’d rather focus on me. I know how to be a caretaker and a leader. That doesn’t mean I actually AM one, let alone like it lol. People are interesting, but I don’t want to babysit them everyday of my life. The people I care about most are those who have earned my trust and are capable of taking care of themselves, and I’ll know that when they ask for help, it’s fucking serious. But other than that, my Nep/Ura in Cap in my 6th house said I got shit to do.
The placements that have the highest potential to be productive leaders, if you ask me, are Cancers, Virgos, Aquariuses, Libras, and Scorpios. Y’all keep calling this group a bunch of overthinking crybabies, but at least they’re thinking about other people with empathy and a sense of justice lmao.
#Aries#Leo#Capricorn#Leo rising#Leo placements#aries placements#capricorn placements#sagittarius#sagittarius placements#cancer#Aquarius#Gemini moon#Aries Venus#Sagittarius north node#neptune in capricorn#Uranus in Capricorn#6th house#astro observations#astrology#astrology observations
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Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 10
series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.
series masterlist | previous chapter
Part Ten: a relic from the past, confession, and dark magic.
series rating: 16+
series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.
series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)
summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.
chapter details beneath the cut ->
wc: 15.3k
extra chapter warnings: panic attack, a non-consensual kiss, non-consensual drug use (but magical? idk?).
chapter summary:
“It is you!” The stranger exclaims, their voice light and feminine.
Feminine and familiar. You narrow your eyes.
“Do I…” You start, swallowing down the bile that has arisen in your throat, as well as the tremble of fear in your voice. “Do I know you?”
a/n: guess who’s back :3 sorry this took me a million years to write, hopefully i can be a bit more consistent in the next coming months. hope you enjoy, and don’t be shy to let me know what you think! love y’all, thanks to everyone who has not abandoned this story after this massive hiatus LMAO <3
Seonghwa has never believed anger to suit him.
While Woo wears his anger like a loaded cannon, and San - like most other things - buries it until it inevitably rises to the surface, Seonghwa has tried to avoid fury when he can.
After all, anger is often the replacement of a different emotion. It comes easier than understanding, quicker than resolution. It’s the nasty, winding short-cut off the high road, and Seonghwa has learned that the high road is almost always the safer path in the long term.
Anger is ugly. It’s nonsensical and he doesn’t like how it looks on him. It’s why he prefers the cold shoulder to blind rage, sorting out his feelings on his own rather than lashing out on others. It’s the kind thing to do. The empathetic thing to do.
It’s never been overly difficult for him to settle this rage until now.
It festers in his mind every morning, as well as in the night before he falls asleep. Everytime he accidentally catches your eye over breakfast, letting his gaze drift away in hopes that you will think that his eyes were trailing by rather than staring.
He is so unbelievably angry with you, and he hates it.
From the moment the truth was revealed in the forest, it’s as if someone wrapped a hand around his lungs and began to squeeze, then never let go. A hot, burning fire in his chest that’s smoke rises up his throat, choking him with rage. It stings his eyes, fogs his senses. It feels unbeatable, indestructible. Blinding.
He knows that anger is just an emotion. A bad one, one that he’s had to expel from others countless times before. From San, after The Desert Lotus. It’s just another entity, another plague on the body. Settle down, feel it, think better of it, then let it be gone.
And yet now that feels an impossible task. Seonghwa doesn’t know the last time he was so angry. Perhaps it was the night in the kitchen with his mother, learning of the heights of human greed, the one he relives every time he uses his gift to expel the anger from someone else.
He supposes this memory may replace that one.
When he found out the truth about you it was like the last few weeks came crashing down around him. The closeness, the trust and understanding, the mutual respect and admiration.
All lies. All of it. And he feels like such a fucking idiot.
There was no trust, and by the gods, there was certainly no respect. He was a mere pawn in your game, a part of the plan, and all he can do is beat himself up about being too naive to not see it earlier. Woo has always harped on him for being too nice to people, or as the elemental would put it, “not behaving like an actual person, but more like a rock on a walkway that people like to kick around”. Seonghwa thought that Woo was just being grouchy, the pessimist he always is. But hell, maybe he was right.
After all, Seonghwa should have seen it coming. There was so much he could have done. If he had questioned why a beautiful stranger would have so much immediate interest in him in the first place, or why you constantly asked him questions while dismissing any deeper ones about yourself. If he wasn’t so passive about the parasitic emotions practically radiating off of you. If he looked past the ideal he so desperately wanted and dared to dig up the reality of what was underneath.
He’s not an idiot. The reality is that for you, it was never about him. It was about getting to Kuroku. For him it was about the journey, but for you it was always in the name of the destination.
And well, he certainly did his part in getting you there. He shared his gift with you as a token of trust, he took your pain away and made it his own, he vouched for you against Woo’s constant doubt.
All for a girl who’s name he didn’t even know.
The thought makes more anger - ugly, volatile, and oh-so-unflattering - surge within his chest, and he throws a rock into the lake before him. It doesn’t skip as he intended, and instead sinks with a loud plunk.
Seonghwa frowns. He grabs another rock to throw.
After being met with an even louder plunk, he groans, before creeping further up onto the shoreline to grab a flatter rock. His toes dip in the water, which feels colder than yesterday now that he’s no longer fueled by sheer terror and adrenaline.
The coolness brings him back to Maralya, when he and Yunho would sit on the fishing dock. Feet in the water, even though Seonghwa was older, Yunho was the one who had taught him to skip rocks. His half-brother always had a knack for things like that, or well, for everything it seemed. From medical skills, to scaling buildings, to setting a fishing line; Yunho could master whatever he picked up. He must have inherited it from his father, a man Seonghwa doesn’t really remember, as he died when they were young.
Seonghwa doesn’t remember his own father either, as he disappeared on an escapade to The Mainland directly after he was born. His mother told him that his ship was lost at sea, but Seonghwa is pretty sure he just left and never came back.
It doesn’t really matter, he’s never had much of a desire to know the man. After all, the only thing Seonghwa inherited from him was his foolishness. And maybe his nose.
Seonghwa sighs. Picking up another rock, this one flat and polished, he recalls the steps in his mind. Yunho's voice runs through his head as he goes through the form, before bringing his hand back and letting it fly.
Plunk.
He stares at the ripples surrounding the sinking stone for a moment, before sitting down. He must have forgotten a step. It was a long time ago.
He lays back so that his head presses into the sand, the little grains cold and damp against his scalp. It’s familiar. It’s a little like the shore at home, although the sand isn’t as white, and the water’s colder, nor as blue. There’s no sound of hustle and bustle from back in the village, or his mother yelling at him to take a dip in the ocean before coming back inside because he’s covered in sand and he can’t track that into the house.
So maybe it’s not so similar, but he will pretend.
Seonghwa sighs, grabbing a handful of sand, letting it fall between his fingers. It’s times like these, ones where he’s dejected, broken-down, and lonely, that he wants nothing more than to go home. Only then does he remember that there’s no home for him to return to.
He sighs, his anger drifting to sadness, and yet he doesn’t mind. He believes that at the very least, it suits him better.
Footsteps approach from far off behind him, and he knows that it’s you. Woo walks faster, heavier footed, and he likely wouldn’t have heard San until he was closer. Besides, you’ve been walking with a slight limp since the fall, and he can hear it in the thump of every second step.
A part of him wants to ask what happened, what hurts. If you’re okay.
The angry part of him won’t let the other speak.
He hears your steps stutter, coming to a sudden halt from what he assumes is about a dozen feet off. Silence follows, and he wonders what you’re thinking. If you’re nervous to approach him, taking the time to contemplate your words before you say them.
Eventually, you do come closer. “San and Woo want to head towards Bebbanburg,” you call out from behind him. “I said that I’d come get you.”
“Thanks,” Seonghwa says flatly, making no motion to move. He will, of course, but not until you head back to camp. He’d like to avoid the awkwardness of walking in a strained silence, pretending not to notice as you try to meet his eye.
Although when he doesn’t hear you leave, it seems as if he doesn’t have much of a choice.
Sighing, he pushes himself up into a seated position. Glancing back at you, he has to place a hand over his forehead to block out the rising sun blinding his vision.
You stand with your arms wrapped around yourself, watching him with a dampened expression. Your tunic billows in the wind, torn around the waist and covered in dirt and dust. Chewing on your bottom lip as your fingers tap along your arm, you appear on edge. As if you wish to say something.
Seonghwa hates the way he wishes to know what it is. He hates how he wants to smooth your hair that is violently blown by the wind and wipe away the smudge of mud that has hardened against your cheek.
He hates how even now, after everything, he yearns for you.
Perhaps this is how it always would have ended, anyway. Having grown more attached then he ever should, not ready to lose what he knew was never his.
“Seonghwa,” you say finally, although it’s a little strained. Rigid. “About yesterday, by the fire.”
Ah yes, that. You and San hadn’t noticed him at the time, but when neither he or Woo came back to the fire, the two of you went out looking for them. It only took a moment, finding them sitting against the caves outer wall. Quiet and avoidant. Woo had fallen asleep, but Seonghwa had met your gaze. He held it for only a moment, watching your own eyes widen as you realized he’d seen the whole thing. He looked away when your lips parted to speak.
“With San. I hadn’t expected it to happen,” you say, calling loudly over the wind, and yet somehow your voice still seems quiet. Trapped and tight. “I… I don’t regret it. But after everything, it feels unfair to you-”
“I don’t care about you and San,” Seonghwa butts in. Not aggressively, or overly angry, merely factual. After all, that’s not what he’s angry about. He doesn’t care about you and San. That’s your business.
He wants San to be happy. Whatever it takes, the swordsman deserves a bit of peace.
Besides, now that he will not, perhaps San will wipe the mud from your cheek.
“Oh,” you say, followed by a pause. “You just seem upset.”
“I’m not angry about that,” Seonghwa replies, lips pursing together. He swallows hard. “Just about everything you did before it.”
Your expression falls. Mouth dropping open into a small part, your eyes fill with a sudden sense of shame and hurt. Your hands grip your elbows, hugging yourself tighter, even if only slightly.
Your expression settles like stone in his gut, and he knows that what he said has made you hurt. He has made you feel that same pain that tightens in his chest and floods up his throat.
Seonghwa wishes he hadn’t said that.
No matter his anger, no matter the pain, Seonghwa has never wished to pass an entity on to another.
“I’ll meet you back at the cave in a moment,” he says, because he doesn’t want to say anything else that he’ll regret. He doesn’t want to force his gaze from yours while at the same time feeling a pull towards you like a beacon, begging him to take it away. Take it all away. All the horrible entities that radiate from you like a plague, a blackened sickness.
Turning back towards the lake, he waits. When he hears the sound of your footsteps - fading away, not growing louder - he lets out a sigh of relief.
He doesn’t like what this has made him into. The anger that has filled him, strangles him, stops him from drifting towards you like a moth to a flame. Sure to be burned, but the glow will be glorious.
No, anger doesn’t suit him. And yet he wears it, draping over him, akin to a stranger’s jacket.
If there is any luck to be found following your fall from the cliff, it’s in that at least you’ve found yourselves closer to Bebbanburg.
The journey to the small kingdom only took a few hours, the fact that you had nothing to carry but the clothes on your back having sped up the trek. It was spent in silence.
You know there’s certain to be some of the black-clad men poking around in such a populous city, so upon reaching the kingdom, the first order of business was to purchase you a cloak, as Mingi’s own had remained within a satchel on the horse’s back.
It weighs down on your shoulders, knowing that it’s gone, the final piece of him you had left. You’ve tried to view it as for the better, as the cloak of a Libaiyan Royal Guard could have attracted the attention of the wrong pair of eyes.
Even so, it hurts.
The cloak you wear now isn’t nearly as nice, a tattered brown fabric that’s itchy in the spots where it touches your bare skin, but it only cost a few bronze pieces. Considering that all the group of you have to your name is the pouch of coins attached to San’s waste, you have to know where to ration your spendings.
This is only on the necessities. San is trying to locate a cheap blacksmith to fashion him a new sword. Meanwhile, Woo and Seonghwa are searching if there’s anywhere for your group to stay that doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. Bebbanburg is an expensive kingdom, and so long as you find a place with a roof and walls that doesn’t blow through all of your savings, you’ll consider yourselves lucky.
With all the men on their own errands and a new cloak purchased, you’ve had about an hour to kill before now, as you currently make your way to meet them back at the city center. You’ve spent it wandering, peering into shop windows but never making your way inside. You don’t have the money to spend, nor do you want the undivided attention of a shop-keeper when you’re trying to lay low.
You’ve passed a few of your wanted posters strown up about the town, plastered to bulletin boards, poles, and shop windows alike. On top of being newly adorned with a far more accurate portrait of yourself, they’ve also added the detail of your recent scars. Printed along the bottom is the following: “Last spotted travelling with three young men. Potentially dangerous. Approach with caution.”
As an incentive due to what you assume is the elevated danger risk, they’ve increased the reward for your capture or demise to 300,000 gold pieces.
Apparently, someone at the tavern ratted the group of you out. Likely Yeosang and his band of not-so-merry men, or perhaps the poor shop-keeper desperate for a bribe.
Either way, someone is on your tail. Considering the new addition to the posters, that someone is in this city.
You haven’t seen them yet, but you know that it’s the black-clad men. They have to be lurking around here somewhere, they’re just being quiet about it.
You swallow hard, pulling the hood of your cloak further down.
Fortunately, the street’s are bustling with people. Bebbanburg, while not quite as big as the four major kingdoms, is still a hub for tourism. With money to spend, the streets are clean, the buildings well-kept. Despite being a narrow path in the merchant’s district in town, the air smells fresh.
It doesn’t feel quite right, in your opinion. Between the few towns you’ve visited these past few weeks, there was a certain scent to the air that felt more…natural. A strange concoction of smells as different taverns and homes didn’t agree on a pre-set menu for the night, dirt and pebbles aligning the trails as hunters dragged home their latest catch, or the muddy hoof-prints left by horses that stick to the bottoms of your shoes.
Bebbanburg feels too polished. The sort of polished that takes an effort, that works extra hard to rid itself of anything it deems unclean.
Trying not to obsess too much over the fact, you do your best to retrace your steps in order to return to the city center, taking a turn down another street. A slight limp to your step, ankle still not having fully recovered from your fall off the cliff, you count the shop doors that you pass along the alley’s stone wall. You kept count on your way here in order to know which alley to take back.
Counting down the doors, you pass by a butcher’s shop, cafe, and Zarian boutique for rare gems, all of which you’d passed along the way here. Gaze fluttering passively over the alley next to the boutique, you nearly miss the pair of eyes that lock on your own. Cat-like gaze fixated on yours, the bottom half of the figure's face is covered by a black cloth, their head shrouded in a dark cloak.
You pause. Hesitant, you retrace your last few steps, peering back down the alley.
The figure’s cloak follows behind them as they disappear behind a winding turn.
Swallowing down the bile that arises in your throat as an unsettled chill creeps down your spine, you keep moving along your original route. It was just a stranger. You’re paranoid, on edge, searching to find shadows and enemies in places in which they are not there.
Nevermind how something about the stranger's gaze felt oddly…familiar. Although you cannot place from where.
You continue along your original path, turning down the alley that will take you back to the city center. Glancing over your shoulder, you see nobody behind you, just the bustle of people continuing their way down the mainstreet. You mentally scold yourself. You’re being ridiculous, and casting lingering glances as you loiter in one place for too long is only going to attract attention.
When you turn forward, you catch a glimpse of movement, as something disappears behind a wall up ahead of you. “Shit,” you think to yourself, rushing forward as you place your back against the stone wall, peeking an eye out to see if you can spot them.
All you can manage is the tail end of the dark cloak disappearing down another alleyway. You wait a moment, as if contemplating how daring - or foolish - you’re willing to be, before heading after them.
“This is a bad idea,” you whisper to yourself, hand drifting to the hilt of the sword at your waist as you follow after the mysterious figure. However, even if unwise, you’d rather know your enemy and have them right in front of you compared to being stalked like prey. You’ll get slain in a fair fight any day before getting your throat slit from behind.
It’s a morbid thought, something San would likely say during combat practice, and you wonder if you’ve been spending too much time with these men.
Following the stranger, you keep quiet on your feet. Pulling the sword out from its sheath, you tread carefully, slowing your pace as you near the corner that the cloak had disappeared behind. Holding the sword firm in your grasp, you take a deep and shaky breath, before jumping to face your attacker.
Only to find there is nobody there, just another barren alleyway. Another alleyway that leads to nothing but a dead end, a stone wall looming tall before you.
You frown, confused at how this is possible. Your gaze darts around the narrow alleyway, searching for a cloaked figure, but it remains entirely empty.
Letting out a troubled sigh, you resheath your sword and turn back around.
Only to be met face first with the masked stranger.
Your breath dies in your throat, and you instinctively pull an arm back, aiming to strike them. However, as you swing forward, they narrowly dodge your strike, managing to grab your wrist instead. They twist it, not so hard as to dislodge anything, but enough that it disarms you. Then, using their free hand to push you backwards, they press you up against the stone wall. Elbow against your chest and hand gripping your upper arm, their spare hand grips tightly around your other wrist, rending you immobile.
Your chest heaves, not from tiredness but scheer panic. They’ve got you. Your gaze flickers up, to scan the face of your assailant. The person that will turn you in to the black-clad men, or is perhaps one themself.
The strangers' dark eyes meet yours from beneath their thick cloak, black orbs dancing as they move to scan over your face. Cat-like in their shape, with thick eye-lashes and brows.
Then the stranger laughs.
It’s not a menacing laugh, nor one you would expect from someone who is about to kill you. Instead it’s joyous, almost disbelieving.
“It is you!” The stranger exclaims, their voice light and feminine.
Feminine and familiar. You narrow your eyes.
“Do I…” You start, swallowing down the bile that has arisen in your throat, as well as the tremble of fear in your voice. “Do I know you?”
The stranger’s eyebrows furrow together into a look of confusion, before lighting up in realization. “Oh!” They say, before doing the last thing you would have ever expected of removing their hands from you entirely. “Of course!”
The stranger pulls off the hood of their cloak, revealing a head of long, thick red hair. They follow the removal of their hood by doing the same with their mask, and with it, you are hit with a wave of not only relief, but scheer and unadulterated joy.
“Yeji!” You nearly shout, pulling your back from the wall and wrapping your arms around your old laundress.
She chuckles, and then you are both laughing. In happiness, in relief, in sheer and utter disbelief. You pull away, placing both of your hands along her jaw to cup her face. You scan every detail, to ensure that she is real and actually standing before you, not some sort of trick or illusion.
But is her, just as you had seen her last at the castle. Maybe not exactly the same, wearing far different clothes than the modest beige dress she had adorned as your laundress, hair worn loosely, and eyes holding more of an edge than they ever had before.
Still, it is Yeji.
Yeji with the shimmering grin and freckle on her nose. Yeji who you know, and knows you in return. Yeji from your castle. Your home.
Yeji, a relic from the past that has not been destroyed.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack, following me around like that,” you laugh, taking one of your hands and giving her a slap on the shoulder, playful and not hard enough to actually hurt.
“Sorry,” she grins. “I didn’t want to attract any attention on the street. Figured it would be safer to lure you somewhere quiet, and you know, I also wanted to make sure it was actually you first.”
She then scoffs, returning the slap onto your own shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to pull out a sword on me! Where did you even get one of those?”
You consider answering, but a heavy cloud of unanswered questions hangs over the two of you, its presence loud and rattling like thunder. The jovial nature to your reunion cannot last long, not when there’s so much at stake, not when your world has crumbled to ash since you last spoke.
“What are you doing in Bebbanburg?” You ask, before realizing there’s a far more pressing question at hand. “How did you get out of the castle?”
Yeji smiles, placing her hand over one of your own along her cheek. “After what happened with the king in the ball-room, it was chaos,” she explains. “The Dark Army were rounding up and capturing all those who worked in the castle and may have been close to you.”
Your heart seizes at the statement, and your voice is quiet as you speak again. “Did they hurt them?”
“I don’t know,” Yeji replies, tone equally as somber. “A group of us laundresses escaped together using the underground tunnel system. I didn’t see what happened to those they had rounded up, but…”
She swallows hard, eyes pitiful as they meet your own. “But with how The Dark Army were talking, and the screams that followed behind us…I don’t think it would have ended well for them, Princess.”
Your throat swells at her admission, and it becomes more difficult to breathe as your eyes fill with the remnants of tears. Your mind is flooded with the unwelcome image of all of your old servants - your friends, as they had far surpassed their job description - tortured to try and probe them for information regarding you.
You wipe at your eyes with your hands, stuffing down the rising guilt and pain, placing a lid on these horrible thoughts. You will mourn later, when you have the time to properly grieve and honour all that they have lost because of you. For now, you must keep moving, deal with what is right in front of you.
“You keep calling them The Dark Army,” you begin, changing the subject. “Is that a made up title, or something they’ve defined themselves as? Do we know who they are?”
Yeji shakes her head. “Nobody knows who they are, it’s just what we’ve been calling them because of their armour. Not to mention the fact that they are about the sourest men I’ve ever met.”
“You’ve spoken to them?” You ask, scolding yourself for the fear that seizes in your chest at the thought of it. Of them being anywhere near her, or anyone you care about, for that matter.
She nods. “They’re poking around the city. Trying to keep a low profile, because Bebbanburg doesn’t like any semblance of war or conflict contaminating their streets, but they’re here. We try to keep to ourselves by not causing any trouble or disturbances and they mostly leave us alone.”
Your head buzzes at the confirmation that they are here, within the walls and perhaps a mere alley-way over, which is far, far too close.
“You keep saying we,” you note. “There’s more of you?”
Yeji nods, a soft smile grazing her lips. “Lot’s of us. We’ve set up a refugee camp on the outskirts of the city. Bebbanburg doesn’t want us here, because of course they don’t, but at least it’s safe. Not much crime or Anti-Libaiyan extremists in the city, so even if it’s not much, it’s all that we can really ask for.”
If she had told you this a couple weeks ago, you’d have been startled to know that there were Anti-Libaiyan extremists at all. However, having been given insight into the monstrosities your father was capable of, this no longer comes as a surprise, but rather expected.
“Can you take me to them?” You ask, and Yeji nods.
“Of course,” she says, grabbing your hand as she begins to walk back up the alley-way. “Although, I’d recommend keeping a low-profile, seeing that you're alive might cause a little too much excitement. Draw attention.”
You nod in agreement, following behind her through the winding alley-ways. It’s not until you’re almost back on the main city street that you remember why exactly you were trekking through the alleyways in the first place.
“Wait,” you say, stopping. Yeji turns to face you, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “There’s some people I need you to meet first.”
“Where have you been?” Woo asks as you approach. The three men have gathered around the fountain within the center of the city square, water spouting from the tall and golden statue into a small pond embedded with various coloured jewels along its rim. The falling water casts a veil of mist around them, as well as the various other groups gathered beside it. Many of them are tourists from different kingdoms, which you can recognize by the various types of clothing they wear, such as the vibrant coloured patchwork of the group next to you that is distinctly Zarian. It seems a prime spot to talk, the definition of hiding in plain sight.
“You were supposed to meet us here a half-hour ago,” Woo says with a scowl, before he notices Yeji beside you. His gaze flickers up and down, as if assessing her potential danger. “Who is this?”
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself, before motioning to her. “You guys, this is Yeji.”
She gives them a smile to which none of the men return, and for a moment you stand in silence.
“We’ve heard that one before,” Woo says.
Your face warms with embarrassment, and you clear your throat before beginning to explain. “This is the real Yeji, the girl whose name I used. She was one of my laundresses back at the castle, as well as a close friend.”
Another moment of silence follows, as none of the men appear to know what to say, or how to approach the appearance of a stranger.
Eventually, Seonghwa speaks, tone polite. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, to which Yeji returns the sentiment. Although he isn’t looking at you to see it, you cast Seonghwa a grateful smile all the same.
“This is Seonghwa, San, and Woo,” you say, pointing to each of them in turn. “They have been helping me get to Kuroku.”
“Thank you for aiding Her Highness,” Yeji says, placing a hand on her chest while delivering a curtsy. A sign of respect. Although…exceedingly formal respect.
San’s lips pull together into a stifled smile, and Woo raises an eyebrow.
“You, um, don’t have to do that,” you say, placing a hand on Yeji’s shoulder and gently tugging her upwards. “It’s not really like that.”
“Oh,” she says, straightening herself as her eyebrows raise in surprise. There’s a silence that follows, as well as a sense of discomfort that hangs in the air, as Yeji chews nervously on her lower lip.
And for all the love that you have for her, you know exactly what she’s thinking, as it’s been drilled into her since the moment she began to work at the castle: The demands of Libaiyan proprietary.
She ponders that if the relationship with this group of men escorting you is not formal, then what is it, and how far have you stretched the rules of etiquette that bind you?
You wouldn’t even know how to answer that question even if she asked.
Instead of dwelling on the subject and the lingering discomfort, you turn to Woo and Seonghwa. “Did the two of you find a place for us to stay the night?”
Woo scoffs in annoyance while Seonghwa shakes his head, defeated.
“Not anywhere reasonable,” Seonghwa says. “There’s a few places we can go if nightfall comes, but we honestly might be better off sleeping in the woods. It should be a clear night, and at least it won’t cost us an arm and a leg.”
You frown, not fond of the idea of spending yet another night on the ground, especially without a tarp or blanket to shield you from the elements.
Fortunately, Yeji pipes up from beside you. “If you’re looking for a place to stay, we’ve formed a refuge on the outskirts of the city. I believe we have an extra tent to spare.”
Now this finally causes the men’s expression to shift, the discomfort and wariness on each of their faces replaced with a glimpse of relief.
“Alright,” San says, gaze shifting over to you even as he speaks to Yeji, and his expression is difficult to read. He appears almost bemused. “Lead the way.”
The refuge, while about as bleak as you expected it to be, fills you with an undeniable sense of glee. Mostly due to how big it is, meaning that even if the mass size of the refuge indicates that there have been hundreds driven from the Libaiyan kingdom, there are also far more people who survived and escaped the castle than you’d originally thought.
Gathered just outside of Bebbanburg’s walls, dozens of the beige and tattered fabric tents are clumped together, creating a sort of maze as people make their way between the narrow passages. Head shrouded beneath your hood, the five of you pass through the different camps, ducking beneath laundry lines hanging between tent poles and maneuvering through the small groups gathered around make-shift fire pits as they roast small rodents and birds for dinner.
You watch their faces, searching amidst them for anger, for loss and resentment. While some are quiet, dark circles of tiredness hanging beneath their eyes, others are not so beaten down. There is the sound of laughter in the air, and a group of children nearly bump into you as they recklessly chase each other through the labyrinth of tents.
You smile. All is not lost.
You’d been so focused on your own survival, of getting to Kuroku alive and fighting to give your kingdom a chance, that you hadn’t realized the fear you had of there being no kingdom to fight for. Of not only the castle being besieged, but the entire kingdom being left in ashes.
Yet, even if this is so, there are still Libaiyans left. There is still a nation, full of life, that will not let themselves be stripped of their pride so easily.
“This way,” Yeji says softly, trying not to draw too much attention to your party. A group of girls wave to her as you pass by, and you recognize some of them as your kitchen maids, although you were never close enough to have learned their names.
The women are seated around a small fire. With the setting sun, they gather closed together, a blanket stretched over them. Or, upon closer look, a Libaiyan flag, its golden sun bright against its stark white background.
There is a man playing the lute sitting beside them. He has light eyes and a soft voice, fingers dancing as he strums the small wooden instrument in tune with his voice.
The man sings a Libaiyan folk song, one about a man arriving home to a small Libaiyan village after fighting many long years at war. The song doesn’t make clear which war exactly, centuries old and deriving from a time of high conflict, but it doesn’t really matter.
After all, the song is less about the war, and more about coming home. The ghosts of his fallen comrades following him, cane in hand to support his leg that will never heal, and his love having left the village to marry another man from the kingdom city.
The song is normally sung in a minor chord. It’s sad and melancholic, painting a tale of loss and grief.
However, the man currently singing has changed its tune to a major chord.
A message of triumph. Of defiance. Of the man’s survival, even after all else is lost and destroyed.
A song of hope.
You want to join them. To listen to this man sing your nation's song, to let his tune of triumph fill not only the air, but your entire body. Your heart, even your soul. Reignite the reason you started this journey, why you couldn’t give up.
These people need you. Your people need you.
Yeji wraps her arm around your wrist, giving you a gentle tug forward as you linger near the fire for a little too long.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “You’ll be able to hear his voice late into the night, even from your tent.”
You aren’t sure how to respond, how to depict your gratitude for all of this. For her taking you in and letting you hear these songs that you weren’t so sure you’d ever hear again, for being alive and granting you hope.
All you can do is reach to give her hand a soft squeeze, and hope she understands.
Yeji stops before a small tent, one that doesn’t seem big enough for two men, let alone three. “I know it isn’t much, but I hope it will do.”
“It’ll do,” Seonghwa answers with a smile.
“Especially considering we have no luggage,” Woo grumbles.
If Yeji hears the dissatisfaction in his voice, she doesn’t show it. “My own tent is just over there,” she says, pointing to what is only a few tents over. It’s a bit larger than the one before you, although not by much. She turns to you. “You can stay with me.”
You’re grateful for the sentiment, considering none of the men - except maybe San - would enjoy being forced to share such close quarters with you.
“There’s a table inside, if you’d all like to sit and regroup. I can catch you up on all that has happened since the siege,” Yeji says.
Her gaze flickers over to the three men, and it is hesitant. Curious, as it returns to you. “And you can do the same.”
“Scorpion beasts, a mimic, and a dragon-basilisk hybrid all in just a few weeks?” Yeji gapes, hands clutching tight around her mug of hot tea, as if she needs something to hold onto. “And you’re alive?”
“I take it your journey here wasn’t so exciting?” San asks, sipping his own mug. He seems in good spirits today, as he willingly engages in conversation with Yeji. Especially compared to Seonghwa - who is more hesitant, likely less willing to jump the gun on trusting a new stranger - and Woo, who sits with his eyes bearing down into the table, not touching his mug even as the tea inside grows cold.
“No, we took the main path down the Arila River, so far less rural,” Yeji explains. “Although it was a good thing you didn’t do the same. There were Dark Army ports all along its bank. We were stopped and searched at every one of them.”
If there’s one thing you’ve learnt from Yeji’s recollection of the besiegement and the time that followed, it’s that the black-clad men are relentless in their pursuit. They want you, at any cost. You only wish you knew who they were, so at least then you’d know why.
“I really am glad you’re alive, Princess,” Yeji says suddenly, hand drifting to rest on your own atop the table. “Libaiya has a chance to be strong again, so long as your blood sits on the throne. You’ll make the perfect Queen.”
You open your mouth to thank her, albeit bashfully, but are cut off as Woo pushes himself from the table. It rattles in protest, although the elemental does not seem to care, as he stomps towards the tent-flap. He does not meet any of your eyes as he disappears beneath it.
“I’m sorry,” Yeji says, tone worried. “Did I say something to-”
“It’s not you,” San reassures her. “He’s just been dealing with a lot lately.”
“I’ll go talk to him,” you say, because you have a feeling about what may be bothering him. Your blood, as Yeji had said. Although to him, it’s more like poison.
“No,” Seonghwa cuts you off, already rising to his feet. “You shouldn’t, I don’t think he’d take it well. I’ll go.”
You want to protest, as Seonghwa does not know about Woo’s past, about the orphanage. The Libaiyan orphanage, and all the horrors that happened there. But the empath is already heading towards the tent flap, and the words die on your lips.
Even so, maybe he is right. Woo is upset, upset about you and your nation, perhaps you are not the one who should attempt to console him. Besides, Seonghwa has always been far better at that.
Yet, as you watch Seonghwa disappear after Woo, you have the sinking feeling it may not go as the empath plans.
Wooyoung cannot breathe.
Making his way blindly through the darkness of the refuge, the sun having set over the horizon, he pushes past Libaiyan’s as he heads for the exit. They turn and look at him as he shoves past, and he wonders if they know. If they can smell it on him.
“You were his,” they whisper as he walks by, or is that just in his head? “One of his dogs. Our dogs. A machine for use. Worthless.”
The last word is in Warden’s voice, and Wooyoung places a hand over his ears to try and tune it out. The other clutching his chest.
He can’t breathe. By the god’s, he really can’t breathe.
Each short pant is as unsatisfying as the next. He feels dizzy, wanting to summon a ball of flame to guide him, but he can’t seem to move his hands in front of him. He pushes forward, searching for an exit through the mazes of tents.
Then he’s covered in something. It’s thin, engulfing him, and panic rises hot in his chest. They’ve gotten him. Again. It’s happening again. He opens his mouth to scream, but no sound comes out.
It’s only after nobody attempts to drag him away and he gets a whiff of soap that he realizes that what covers him is not a bag, but someone's laundry. With shaky hands, he untangles himself from the fabric, before glancing down at his captor.
It’s a Libaiyan flag.
The bright, golden, and horrible sun stares back at him. The same one hung in the cafeteria, the one he pledged allegiance to three times a day. The one plastered atop the ceiling of his bedroom, watching him every night. The one deckled on Warden’s shoulder, as he tortured them relentlessly, as he murdered Yeonjun.
Wooyoung throws it to the ground, hands still shaking as he walks over it, the dirt on the bottom of his shoe stark against the flag’s white background.
“Woo!” A voice calls from behind him, but it sounds far away. Maybe it’s also just in his head. He keeps walking.
He can hear the sound of the same man singing as when you’d all entered the camp. He has a nice voice as he sings Libaiyan songs. Songs he’s never heard. Songs that were reserved for Libaiyan citizens, not slaves.
Wooyoung’s throat burns with the taste of Libaiyan tea. Only one sip, and it will not leave his tongue.
It tasted like the infirmary tent after Assessment Day in the orphanage. Before Warden got there, but not before Wooyoung got beaten within the sparring ring. They’d given him the tea to calm him down, try and make him forget the burns lacing up and down his arms.
With the taste on his tongue it’s as if he can feel them again, the searing pain starting in his mind and seeping into his skin.
“Woo, hold on!” The voice calls again, closer than the last. This time Wooyoung knows it’s not in his head, as he recognizes it to be Seonghwa. The sound of foot-steps follows behind him, as the empath chases after him.
He does not turn around. He needs to get out of this place.
Wooyoung begins to run.
Tearing through the refuge, he sees Bebbenburg’s outer walls appear ahead of him, the light emitted from the lanterns hung on the outside fortress drawing him in like a beacon.
When he reaches the wall, he makes sure to take a few steps inside and past the gates, to ensure that he is no longer within Libaiyan territory. Here, he is within the Kuroken realm. Safe.
He pauses to catch his breath, less from the running and more from the panic that has seized him. Hands placed on his knees, Wooyoung lets the foggy haze fade from his mind, although it does not relinquish control so easily. His heart continues to race, ears ringing with a constant buzz.
Wooyoung doesn’t know why this is affecting him so horribly. He’s been to the Libaiyan castle since entering the orphanage, having stolen plenty of Libaiyan treasures and heirlooms on their heists within the castle.
Then again, that was in the dark of the night, when there were no songs to be sung or tea to be drunk. When the flags were shrouded in pure shadow, not wrapped around him like bonds of rope.
That was when he was in control. That was when he was taking from them. That was revenge.
That was before he entangled himself with their princess.
“Woo, what the hell?” Seonghwa asks as he approaches, slightly out of breath from chasing down the elemental. “Where are you going?”
“Away,” Wooyoung says, because it is all he can manage. He doesn’t look up at Seonghwa, instead staring at the cobblestone beneath his shoes, blinking blearily as he tries to direct his focus to its stone patch-work.
“Why did you just storm out of there?” Seonghwa asks. He’s not mad. Not yet. He genuinely wishes to know.
“Because of what that woman said,'' Wooyoung answers in his mind. “Because it’s true, she is the Libaiyan throne. Because it is her blood that’s done all of this. That did this to me.”
Wooyoung, of course, does not actually say any of this out loud. Seonghwa won’t understand. He doesn’t know, not only about Wooyoung’s past, but the orphanages in general. He’s from a small town within Zaria’s realm, far away from any news about Libaiyan political treachery.
He won’t get it, and Wooyoung isn’t going to even bother to try and explain it to him, especially when his tongue feels three sizes too large and his heart beats at a million times per minute.
“Leave me alone, Hwa,” he mutters, turning away from Seonghwa and heading deeper into Bebbanburg, hoping the empath will take the hint and piss off.
But he doesn’t, because after all, it’s Seonghwa. The blonde follows after him. “Where are you going to go, Woo? You saw the poster, it’s better to stay together, keep a low profile.”
“Leave me alone, Hwa,” Wooyoung repeats, beginning to walk faster, tone a little more pointed.
“Is this about her?” Seonghwa asks, and now his own tone is rising, annoyed as has to jog to catch up to the elemental. “Look I know you’re mad, I am too. But can’t you just push that aside? We’re almost to Kuroku, then we’ll be past it. We can move on.”
“Right. We’ll get to Kuroku. She’ll leave. San will leave. And then inevitably, you will too.”
After being met with silence, Seonghwa lets out a groan of annoyance, continuing to chase after him.
“Woo, stop!” He calls, reaching out to grab Wooyoung’s arm. Wooyoung slaps his hand away, perhaps a little harder than he should have. “Can’t we just talk about this? Can’t we have an actual conversation for once instead of you shoving me away?”
Wooyoung keeps moving, because no, they can’t. Not right now. Not like this. Not when he can’t think straight.
“I don’t get what you have to be so mad about anyway!”
Wooyoung stops at this, finally turning around to face Seonghwa. “What?”
Seonghwa stares at him for a moment, eyes wide and mouth parted with surprise that Wooyoung actually stopped. Then he frowns, eyebrows furrowing together, as if remembering his annoyance.
“Yes, she lied to you,” Seonghwa starts. “And I know it sucks. But it’s San’s money on the line, and clearly he’s been able to forgive her.”
Seonghwa swallows hard. “And even if I haven’t been able to do the same, even after all she’s done to me I’m willing to swallow my own feelings to get this journey done. For them.”
Them. By that Seonghwa means San and you. You, after all that you have done - to Seonghwa, to San, to Wooyoung himself - he’s still choosing you.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t, Hwa!” Wooyoung says, and now he’s shouting. It’s good. The anger provides him comfort, something familiar to latch onto. “She used you! She used all of us! I know you have this deep-seeded issue of thinking everyone and everything has good in them, but open your eyes! Not all that glitters is fucking gold! A pair of pretty eyes doesn’t repair what she’s done, it doesn’t mean that she isn’t rotten inside!”
“Just as you are too,” a voice reminds him within his mind, but he ignores it.
Seonghwa opens his mouth to cut back, but Wooyoung is not finished. “She lied through her teeth, and you’re really just going to let it slide? Keep quiet because it’ll make things easier for her? For the sake of the gods, grow a spine!”
“Why do you care so much about what I do?” Seonghwa yells back, taking a step towards Wooyoung. Seonghwa’s fist is clenched at his side, and for a moment Wooyoung thinks that Seonghwa might actually hit him. He almost wishes he would.
“Why do you care if I forgive her? Why do you care so much about whether I let people walk all over me? Why do you care?”
Wooyoung doesn’t know why he does it.
Maybe it’s the way his mind still buzzes from moments prior, hazy and foggy and unable to think of anything beyond his anger. Anything beyond the way his heart pounds rapidly and vision blurs with an anxious haze.
Maybe it’s the way Seonghwa’s words sting, more than Wooyoung wants to admit, and he wishes to prove the man wrong. Show him that it’s not so simple. Win, in a strange and possibly fucked up way, but win nonetheless.
Or maybe, more than anything, it’s the way Seonghwa is looking at him. Big brown eyes scanning his face, full of anger, but also passion. Desperately searching for an answer, as if there will be a solution to the enigma that is Wooyoung hidden somewhere on the elemental’s face.
Wooyoung knows what the answer is that Seonghwa seeks.
It’s the part of himself that Wooyoung has never admitted exists. The part that he has shoved down, smothered, pretended wasn’t there. The part that flutters at the sound of Seonghwa whining at his teasing. The part that stalls when Seonghwa lets his hand fall onto Wooyoung’s shoulder, thinking nothing of it, simply trying to get the elemental's attention or leaning in to point out something in the distance.
The part that broke the first night you and Seonghwa spent together. Defeated, angry, and beaten down, crawling into his bed that night in a drunken stooper, aching at the thought of the elemental being intimate with someone. Well, someone else.
The part that he once again shoved away the next morning, and had every day before and has every day since.
It’s that part of himself that he’s dejected and ignored that now comes crawling to the surface, invited by Seonghwa’s searching eyes, that unleashes its presence in a way that will make itself known. That will ensure it will no longer be forgotten, that it cannot be ignored or subdued again.
That part of Wooyoung unleashes itself in the form of a kiss.
It’s a horrible one, teeth smashing into teeth as Wooyoung grabs onto the collar of Seonghwa’s tunic and roughly pulls the man into him. In fact, it’s less of a kiss compared to two faces smashing together, Seonghwa clearly not prepared for it, but the message is sent all the same.
Wooyoung holds him there for three seconds, which feel far more like an eternity as they pass by.
Then Wooyoung pushes Seonghwa off of him, letting go of the man’s collar as the blonde stumbles back.
For a moment they stand in silence, and it’s a deafening one. Seonghwa’s hand drifts up to his lips, grazing them, eyes wide as he stares at Wooyoung. He’s clearly in a state of shock, as he says nothing, just stares with his mouth parted open in disbelief.
“There,” Wooyoung breathes. “Do you get it?”
Seonghwa continues to stare at him. Then his eyebrows furrow together, and when he begins to speak, Seonghwa’s tone is incredulous. “Woo, what are you-”
“Forget it,” Wooyoung cuts him off, because he doesn’t want to know what Seonghwa is going to say. He doesn’t want to hear the empath call him crazy, ask him what the hell he’s thinking.
Because Wooyoung doesn’t know the answer to that either. The mind-numbing fog has returned to his head, his heart racing even faster than it had before.
He needs to get out of here.
“Just go back to the tent, Hwa,” Wooyoung says, and then his feet are set in motion. He heads deeper into Bebbanburg, away from the Libaiyan tent. Away from you and San. Away from what he’s done, the irreversible mistake he just made.
He runs away, and this time Seonghwa doesn’t follow him.
“What were you thinking, what were you thinking, what were you thinking?” Wooyoung repeats the question to himself over and over again in his head, trying to make sense of what he’s done.
The look of bewilderment on Seonghwa’s face, followed by incredulity. Shock, then disbelief. Almost angry, and why shouldn’t he be? How could Wooyoung do something like this? Something so blatantly stupid and thoughtless?
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
Wooyoung still cannot come up with an answer, because frankly, he wasn’t thinking. And he still can’t.
He turns down one of the many alley’s surrounding him, head buzzing, not a clue of where he’s going. All he knows is that it’s away, and for now, that is enough for him.
Wooyoung closes his eyes, hand trailing along the wall beside him as he runs. He feels silly, running with his eyes closed, but he cannot bring himself to keep them open. This way, the world around him fades. He can simply be moving, feel the air rush past him, and pretend that nothing happened.
There are no Libaiyan refugees a few alleyways over. He does not care for the Liabiyan princess, nor did he lose San a mere night ago. He did not reveal his feelings to a man he loves and ruin their entire friendship in one fell swoop.
He is merely running in the darkness, chest heaving for air, fingers scraping along the cobblestone wall.
Maybe, if he keeps running like this, he’ll actually have escaped it all.
Or maybe, running like this is not such an acceptable option, as it stops him from noticing the figure that has been following after him.
Wooyoung does not notice he is being followed until it is too late. Until he’s already been shoved sideways, face smacking into the stone wall beside him.
At the very least, the blows knock him from his stupor, and his eyes fly open as he stumbles. Whirling to face his attacker, fire ignites immediately within his hand, dancing in between his fingers.
However, the second he turns, he’s met with a swift punch to the jaw that catches him off guard. Mostly because it does not come from where he can feel the man beside him - who now pins Wooyoung’s wrist to the alley-wall - but from the other side.
It’s not one attacker, but many.
“Shit,” Wooyoung thinks to himself, spitting out the blood that fills his mouth, the metallic taste thick on his tongue and gritty between his teeth. Eyes searching the darkness around him, his attackers are nothing more than blurs within the night, and he gives the one in front of him a swift kick to the groin. The man lets out a long string of curses, and Wooyoung uses the opportunity to try and rush forward.
It’s of no use, as another man (or two, maybe even three?) pins his wrists to the wall.
It’s not the most efficient way to capture a person, as it leaves their legs functional to kick and mouth free to spit, bite, or scream for help.
Unless, of course, you’re capturing an elemental.
Wooyoung tries to summon fire into his hands, and while it manages to dance around his fingers, the inability to move his arms stops him from managing anything greater. He tries to summon the flame with only his mind, staring at his hand with sheer determination. He knows it’s possible, he’s done it before. Once. The night Yeonjun died.
Of course, he didn’t exactly mean to, and apparently it isn’t the sort of thing he can do by will, as his hands remain barren of flame.
Instead, he’s left helpless, pulling against the grips of the men that bind him. His eyes dart amongst the shadows that surround them, and he tally’s roughly ten of them, although he’s certain that there’s more as he hears shouts from down the alley-way.
One of the men’s hands digs into Wooyoung’s hair, pulling his head forward before slamming it back into the stone-wall. Hard.
Stars dance before Wooyoung, and a darkness creeps into the corners of his vision. He continues to kick out in front of him, although each swing is far weaker than the last, as the pain leaves him sluggish.
The man yanks on his hair again, before slamming his head back into the wall once more, and suddenly Wooyoung is on the ground.
He doesn’t remember crumpling, but the stone pathway is cold against his back, so he must have passed out for a moment. He opens his eyes, vision swaying as he tries to make out the men surrounding him.
He can vaguely spot the face of the man above him. Middle-aged, with a dark beard and intense eyes. He speaks to someone beside him, although Wooyoung’s mind is too muddled to make out the actual words.
Likely not thugs then, as they aren’t even bothering to hide their identities. Besides, there’s too many of them to be a regular mugging. Too conspicuous, so it must be targeted.
But if it’s targeted, then who are they?
“W-who?” He asks, because the full sentence is far too much effort. His words are slurred and he sounds drunk. Which to be fair is an awful lot like how he feels.
The man above him doesn’t answer, but instead places a hand on Wooyoung’s throat, silencing him. With his other two hands, the man pins Wooyoung’s wrists to the ground.
No, no, that doesn’t make any sense. He can't have three hands. Which means it must be somebody else pinning his wrists to the ground, as well as another that slips the cloth bag over his head. How many were there again?
By the god’s Wooyoung really can’t think right now.
“Knock him out,” one of the men speaks from above him. Now that Wooyoung can make out.
Then the world goes black.
“And he seriously didn’t tell you where he was going?” San asks, arms crossed as he leans against the training post outside of the men’s tent. It’s covered in grooves, clearly crafted by a sword, and one in the hands of someone not too pleased. A testament to San’s opinion on Woo not returning to the refuge last night.
“I already told you,” Seonghwa replies. His tone is also frustrated as he sits at an outside table, fingers tapping anxiously in rhythm with his jittering leg. “No. He didn’t.”
“He just took off?” San repeats, and you can understand why Seonghwa is becoming a bit annoyed. It’s also the third time you’ve heard San ask, although you have a feeling the swordsman isn’t actually expecting the answer to change. He simply wants to hear it again, to let him fuel the flame of his annoyance. “Without a word? Without a reason? Out into a city we’re currently being hunted in?”
Seonghwa’s eyes shift to the ground. “Yes.”
“And you let him?”
Seonghwa scowls at this. “What did you want me to do? You know Woo, he’s going to do what he wants no matter what anyone says or thinks.”
Seonghwa has been in a sour mood all morning, and something tells you there may be a little more to Woo leaving than he may be letting on. However, now is not the time to ponder what it might be, nor is it the time to start a fight. You simply need to find him.
“Let’s not start bickering with one another just because Woo’s not around to start it,” you say, attempting to remedy the argument before it can start. Fortunately, neither of the men are overly confrontational, at least not with each other.
“You’re right,” San sighs, turning to Seonghwa. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed, I know it’s not your fault.”
Seonghwa gives San a sort of half-smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before staring back down at his shoes. He appears to immediately lose himself in thought, knee bouncing anxiously.
Yeah, something definitely happened last night.
“This isn’t like him,” San says, pulling his sword out from his sheath and spinning it around in his hand. A nervous habit. “Staying out for the night, sure. But he’s always back by the next day. Always.”
With morning long past, the sun high in the sky with the arrival of late noon, San’s statement of “always” is replaced with “until today”, and a sense of uneasiness passes through you.
Something is wrong. You can feel it.
And with both San’s sword spinning in his hand and the sound of Seonghwa’s fingers tapping the table, you know that they can feel it too.
“I think we should go looking for him,” you say, expecting immediate approval. Instead both men look at you, and San shoots Seonghwa a side glance, to which the empath returns.
“What?” You ask, uncomfortable at the fact that it appears they’re both in on something you’re not.
San sighs. “You shouldn’t come.”
“What?” You say, this time with far more anger than confusion. “If Woo’s in danger then of course I’m going to come-”
“If Woo’s in danger then it’s likely because of the men who are looking for you,” San cuts you off, and while his tone is not accusatory, it is pointed.
You prepare a rebuttal, but it dies on your lips. San is right.
If the black-clad men have done something to Woo, then you going looking for him is likely exactly what they would want for you to do. While the stubborn part of you wants to go anyway, put Woo’s safety before your own. Be daring, bold, and perhaps a little stupid, just as Woo is in the face of danger, you know that this is not an option.
You need to get to Kuroku, and if you aren’t yet certain of the danger Woo may be in, you cannot afford to take such blatant risks.
“Alright,” you say, tone defeated as Seonghwa rises to his feet, San making his way towards the path leading outside of the refuge.
You don’t manage the next words until they’ve already left. Leaving you alone, face shrouded by your hood, suddenly aware of the wind’s chill nipping at your skin. The seasons are turning.
“Good luck.”
They are back sooner than you expected.
You sit at a table with Yeji, playing a game of Skirmish. A traditional Libaiyan game meant for children, due to the fact it has few rules and never really ends, so it can keep them occupied for hours. You didn’t particularly want to play, but Yeji said it might help to keep your mind distracted. You figured it was worth a shot.
It didn’t work.
However, it doesn’t matter, as when both San and Seonghwa approach from down the refuge’s path, the cards are forgotten. Tossing your deck to the side, you give San a look, one that asks: “Any luck?”. Although, you’re fairly certain of the answer, as there is no Woo in tow behind them.
San does not give you a look of his own. In fact, he does nothing. He simply stares back at you, a dead look to his eye.
It’s that look, the emptiness of it, that tells you something has gone wrong.
“What happened?” You ask as he approaches, although San does not reply. Instead he gives Seonghwa a fleeting glance, and the blonde meets it. His own expression is not as empty as San’s. In fact, it is the opposite. Brimming with emotion, Seonghwa’s eyes hold worry, mouth drawn tight, jaw clenched. A look of nothing less than pure fear.
“Seonghwa?” You ask, your own worry settling deep in your chest. Something has gone wrong, but what, and how badly?
The blonde doesn’t answer you with words, instead he moves towards the table. You hadn’t noticed before, but he holds something in his hands. The paper is a light tan colour, the size also familiar, and you recognize it to be one of your wanted posters. Immediately you're confused, as why would Seonghwa show you one of these? You’ve already seen dozens of them plastered all over Bebbanburg.
However, as he lays it down onto the table, the answer is blatantly obvious.
The paper is smeared with blood. The red stark against its light colouring, it doesn’t coat the poster fully, but is rather smothered haphazardly, the semblance of fingerprints notable. It’s testament to a job done quickly, as whoever did this did so with one purpose: to get a message across.
The message is made even more clear by the thick, dark lock of hair tied to the corner of the page.
Woo’s.
Beneath the lock of hair is writing, scrawled in black ink.
The Concursos Mountain Pass.
Three Days.
Wooyoung awakens to the back of his head pounding in a violent, aching fashion. The world sways in front of him, and it takes him a moment to remember where he is exactly.
However, at the sight of tarps on all sides of him, the tent coated in darkness as only the light of the setting evening sun is able to get through, he remembers.
Right, the Libaiyan refuge.
Wooyoung groans, blinking as he tries to get his eyes to focus, his pounding head making his thoughts difficult to string together.
He moves his hand, attempting to wipe the sweat beading along his forehead, only to realize that he can’t.
His hands are tied.
Eyebrows furrowing together, he looks over his shoulder. The chains that tie his wrists to the chair that he sits in are thick and made of iron. If he tried to melt his bonds with the fire between his fingers, rather than catching fire like rope, they’d heat up and burn his wrists.
“What the…” He croaks out, throat raspy. Who would have tied him to a chair? Surely not Seonghwa or San. Not very likely you, as he couldn't see what good that would do you. Maybe your friend, the Libaiyan patriot? But why?
Wait.
Wooyoung’s brain pauses, mind doing a double-take as he stares at his bonds, noting bruising along his wrist. The massive purple marks are dark against his bronzed skin, and are almost line-shaped, as if someone had been holding him.
No, he’s not in the Libaiyan refuge, he’s somewhere else.
The memories of last night come rushing back to him. Running from the tent. The fight with Seonghwa. The subsequent kiss with Seonghwa.
His capture.
The shock of it is enough to cause Wooyoung to jolt awake, mind finally clearing even if the pain at the back of his head does not subside.
As if sensing Wooyoung’s realization, a man appears from under the tent-flap. He’s older, his face like a worn-glove, leathery and wrinkled in its places most used. His dark hair is cropped short, although his beard remains long, as well as scruffy.
Most notably, he’s dressed entirely in black armour. One of your predators.
“Ah, good. You’re awake,” the man says, and his voice is not as deep as Wooyoung expected.
“Who are you and-”
“Don’t speak. Not everyone has arrived yet,” the man cuts him off dismissively. “Besides, we’ll be the ones asking the questions.”
“Oh, my mistake, I thought-”
Wooyoung doesn’t know why he is surprised by the slap, but he is. Maybe because he hadn’t even had the chance to say the insult he was planning yet. Usually the hit would at least come afterwards.
These men, they aren’t playing around, that is clear.
His cheek stings, and he can imagine the bright red mark appearing along his skin as more men in dark armour appear from under the tent-flap. Wooyoung is surprised by the amount of them that manage to crowd into the space, almost a dozen.Then again, it is a big tent. Mostly empty, other than a small table in the corner, scattered with a variety of knick-knacks and spices that seem non-sensensical. Lunadore pollen, silver beads, Alagor Root, and a bunch of other rare ingredients the Wooyoung does not have time to make sense of, although set him on edge nonetheless.
If they plan to torture him, the table should be full of knives. Hammers. Maybe a few pliers to pull off his fingernails. Not plants.
The man who slapped him - their leader, it seems - clears his throat, and the group of men fall silent. Each of them turn to face Wooyoung, eyes glinting with something dark, something that says that they know more than he does.
Wooyoung makes sure to give each of them in turn a glare.
“I’m sure you know who we are by now,” the man says.
Wooyoung considers playing dumb, maybe earning himself a matching slap on the other cheek. However, he needs information, which means at least for now he must play along.
“You attacked the Libaiyan castle. Killed their king,” Wooyoung answers, meeting the man’s gaze. His eyes are sharp, intimidating, and Wooyoung makes sure not to look away. Not to show any fragility. Even if he has been made into the weakest in the room, he need not show it.
“People have been calling you The Dark Army,” Wooyoung says, and then because he can’t help himself, adds: “Cute name. Very scary. Did you come up with it yourselves?”
The man doesn’t answer his question, but instead smirks. “If you know who we are, I’m sure you also know what we’re looking for.”
You. That’s the answer the man wants. But Wooyoung won’t give that to him. “Power?” He ventures instead. “Glory? Access to the king’s many bejeweled robes?”
The man steps forward, grabbing Wooyoung's face in his hand. His fingers squeeze Wooyoung’s jaw, so much so that it not only hurts, but prevents him from speaking.
“Enough playing coy,” the man says. He still does not seem angry, face blank and tone almost bored as he grips Wooyoung’s face between his fingers. “Tell me where she is.”
He eases his grip just enough to let Wooyoung speak. “Where who is?”
The man’s grip tightens once again, fingernails digging into the elemental’s skin, and Wooyoung forces himself not to wince. “The girl you’ve been running all over Burovia with. The princess turned convict. Ring any bells?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wooyoung manages. At this the man lets go of his jaw, but it’s only to deliver another slap that burns along his cheek. The man grips his jaw again, and Wooyoung struggles to focus on the man’s face, blinking away the stars that dance across his vision.
“Yes, you do,” the man says, and this time his tone is almost soft, gentle as he attempts to coax out an answer. Somehow it’s far more unsettling than the blankness. “Is she with the refugees? At one of the hostels, or even a tavern?”
“I told you, I don’t know,” Wooyoung says through gritted teeth. This time the man does not slap him, but instead grips his hair as he brings Wooyoung face down into his knee. Pain radiates from his nose through the rest of his face, and when the man lifts him back up, it takes Wooyoung a moment to register the man’s face before him through the blurriness.
It’s not until now that Wooyoung realizes the severity of the danger that he is in.
They want him to hand you over to them, and Wooyoung can’t do that.
But why can’t he do that? It would be the easiest thing to do. Nobody would blame him, after everything that you’ve done, especially if it came down to choosing between his own life or yours. San and Seonghwa would understand.
You are the Libaiyan Princess. Your family sent him to the orphanage. Turning you in would rid himself of the volatile confusion that has plagued him, it would fulfill the dream that his younger self wished for every night and morning. So why can’t he do it?
He knows the answer. How he feels towards you has grown beyond hatred. It’s grown beyond mere toleration for San and Seonghwa’s sake. It’s grown beyond the excuses he’s been telling himself for weeks.
He’s not going to hand you over to them to die, no matter what that may mean for himself. Unfortunately, what that may mean for himself is not looking good.
“You’re going to tell us,” the man states, not to persuade, but to simply state as fact. “It’s just a matter of how much you’re willing to put yourself through before you do.”
“Well I have nothing but time,” Wooyoung answers, grinning, and he knows his teeth are bloody. Can feel the grittiness on his teeth, or maybe that’s still from the night before.
The man smiles back. “You have three days.”
Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. “Because I’m just such lovely company?”
“Because that’s how long we’ve given her to come find you.”
Wooyoung pauses at this, and he knows he’s shown a glimpse of weakness. How did they get a message to you? Is he bluffing?
Would you really be stupid enough to come after him?
“Nobody will come,” Wooyoung says, and even he can hear the uncertainty in his voice. Surely you wouldn’t come after him. Not when you’re so close to Kuroku, to San’s freedom. You have to keep going, there’s no way you, San, and Seonghwa could take on a dozen armed and highly trained men, especially considering there’s more of them out there somewhere. It would be pointless, a suicide mission.
But Wooyoung also knows that none of you would leave him behind to die.
“That’s fine,” the man says with a shrug. “Either she comes to us, or we go to her with the information you’ll give us. It doesn’t matter.”
“You aren’t going to be able to torture anything out of me,” Wooyoung says with a scoff, tilting his chin up, defiant. “Pain? Yeah, I’ve been through my share.”
The corner of the man’s lip curves upward, eyes gleaming. “I know. That’s what they told me.”
Wooyoung frowns. They?
The man chuckles at Wooyoung’s weary expression, finally letting go of his hold on the elemental’s jaw. The group of soldiers step back, creating a pathway for him as the man heads over to the table covered with rare ingredients and spices.
The man begins to fiddle around with them, although what exactly he’s doing Wooyoung can’t make out, his vision obscured by the other men standing before him.
“Do you know what they say about those whose body cannot be broken?” The man calls over his shoulder, and Wooyoung catches a glimpse of what is in his hand: a small bowl and mallet, which he uses to grind down the Alagor Root.
“No,” Wooyoung answers, wary.
“Break their mind instead,” the man states, holding up a small vial of purple liquid that Wooyoung cannot identify, before pouring into the bowl. A strange, dark and odorous smoke wafts up from the concoction. It smells like something burning, although what exactly Wooyoung cannot place. That is, until he can. It’s burnt flesh. It reminds him of the infirmary tent, of his scorched arms.
An inkling of fear settles into Wooyoung’s chest as he becomes increasingly aware of the bonds on his wrist. He can’t move, run, fight back, or do anything, really.
For a man with so much power, he’s grown accustomed to never feeling powerless. For a moment, it’s like he’s thirteen again. At Warden’s disposal and no fire to call his own.
The man places the empty vile back down on the table, before grabbing something else Wooyoung cannot see, although he can hear the sizzling noise it makes as he adds it to the bowl.
Wooyoung cannot take the silence any longer, his curiosity - or better, fear - overtaking him. “What are you doing?” He asks.
Instead of answering him, the man begins to mutter something beneath his breath, making a strange circular motion with his hand above the bowl, which he has set back down on the table. Wooyoung cannot make out what he is saying, but the way the words leave his lips is almost rhythmic, like a priest delivering a chant.
Wooyoung scowls, opening his mouth to interrogate the other men around him as to what the hell is going on, but the words die on his tongue. He knows what the man is doing.
It’s part of the Old Faith. Old Magic.
Dark magic.
Wooyoung has never been a devoted servant to the gods. In fact, for all of his life he’s hated them. He hated them as a child for giving him a gift he could not use. He hated them as a teenager for cursing him with the power to destroy everything he held dear. He hates them as an adult for idly standing by as all of the horrible events of his childhood tumbled down one after the other.
However, even with his hatred towards the gods, he’s always considered worshiping them to be far more understandable than the Old Faith. More particularly, the Old Magic aspect.
It’s a breach of order. If the gods blessed the gifted with their powers, then Old Magic defies that. It’s taking from the earth what was not given to you. It’s blasphemous. Immoral and unnatural. At its very core wrong.
Wooyoung tugs at the chains around his wrists, which clatter in protest. Panic begins to rise in his chest, as one thought fills his head: “What the fuck are they going to do to me?”
The man finishes his chant, before digging into his pocket and pulling out a miniature knife. He uses it to create a small cut along the tip of his finger, holding it above the bowl as a drop of blood collects around the wound, before dropping into the potion.
Smiling to himself in satisfaction, the man takes the bowl with him as he heads back towards Wooyoung. Stopping before him, the man takes a moment to meet the elemental’s eyes, that glimmer of darkness potent within his gaze.
Wooyoung does not look away, but by the gods, he wants to.
“Well,” the man says. “Open up.”
Wooyoung keeps his mouth shut, lips pursing together. He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, feeling its thump throughout his entire body. He can’t drink that. He isn’t sure what it will do, but he knows that its something horrible.
It will break his mind. That is what the man had said.
And while Wooyoung has always had confidence in his abilities, perhaps even relied on himself more than he should, for the first time that confidence falters.
“So this is what it takes for you to be quiet,” the man jests, earning a few chuckles from the others around him. “Good to know.”
When Wooyoung doesn’t reply, the man nods to a couple of the soldiers beside him. “Open his mouth.”
Four of the men approach him, and Wooyoung fights against the bonds of his chair, even if he knows it’ll be pointless. The chains against his wrists and ankles hold him still, and as two of the men grab his shoulders to stop the chair from rattling, he’s left with nothing but twisting his face away from the men who grab at him.
Hands blur across his vision as he feels one of the men press an arm to his throat. Another digs into his scalp, pulling his hair in order to bring his head back and face upwards. Fingers claw at the crevices of his face, digging beneath his cheekbones, into his ears, scratching along his lips.
It’s overwhelming, but Wooyoung stays focused, repeating over and over again in his mind, “Don’t open your mouth, don’t open your mouth, don’t open your mouth.”
It’s not until the elbow pressing into his throat has been there for a little too long that Wooyoung registers that he needs to breathe. Black lines creeping into the corners of his vision, head beginning to feel foggy, he does his best to ignore it.
Until he can’t any longer. Against his mind’s will, when the man removes his elbow from the elemental’s throat, Wooyoung gasps for air.
The men do not waste the opportunity.
Fingers dig themselves into his mouth, and while he attempts to bite down on them, their force is too strong as the many hands pull back his cheeks. Limbs bound, hair pinned, and face pulled back, he’s left helpless as the man with the bowl approaches him.
As the man lifts the bowl above the elemental’s face, a smile grazes over his lips, and Wooyoung knows that he is enjoying this.
The liquid burns as it pours down his throat, rubbing like sand-paper along his tongue. It tastes familiar. Like stale bread, but worse. Rotten with mold. Wooyoung gags but the man does not stop, not until the final drops fall from the bowl and into his open mouth.
The men do not release him until he swallows the concoction, and he feels it as it settles down into his gut, twisting and turning like cheap whiskey.
Wooyoung attempts to catch his breath, chest heaving and sweat beading along his forehead as he looks at the man before him. He continues to smile that awful, wretched grin, empty bowl in hand.
“See? Now that wasn’t so hard,” the man says, for no other reason but to rub salt in the wound.
Wooyoung spits on his shoes.
The man does nothing, merely takes a few steps back as he continues to watch Wooyoung with an analytical gaze, as if observing whatever the hell is supposed to happen. For a few moments, Wooyoung feels nothing but the tension that hangs in the room as all of the men stare at him. He feels like a monster in a cage, like one of those griffin’s from a traveling circus he saw passing through Gloria many years ago. Undeniably dangerous, but stripped down to a mere display for people to gawk at.
Then he notices it. It doesn’t start as much, more of a feeling in the back of his mind than anything else. An uncomfortable tingling sensation creeping through him, like an itch beneath his skin, little prickles of worry like ants tunneling through his veins.
He blinks, and his vision goes blurry.
The men in front of him transform into foggy statues and he blinks again, but instead of focusing it only gets worse. He swallows hard, only to find his throat has gone dry, the saliva refusing to go down.
Heat settles itself in his gut, rising into his chest as an aching sensation washes through him. Wooyoung lets out a low whine, one that under any other circumstances would humiliate him, but he can’t bring himself to worry about that right now. Not when his body feels as if it’s rejecting him.
“What did you do to me?” Wooyoung asks, and it comes out as a hoarse whisper. The man hums softly, reaching forward to hold Wooyoung’s chin. This time his grip is gentle, and Wooyoung wants to slap it away, but he doesn’t have the strength. In fact, if it weren’t for the man holding his head up, he’s certain his chin would have fallen down to his chest. Maybe it already had, Wooyoung doesn’t remember.
“This is the easy part, Jung Wooyoung,” the man says, and Wooyoung swears that that is the first time the man has said his name. Although the worry is replaced by agony as another ripple of pain rattles through him.
“Remember. You tell me what I want to know, I’ll make it stop,” the man says. “You’d be wise to accept that offer.”
Wooyoung blinks up at him, and he thinks thaf tears stain his eyes, although his vision is too foggy to notice a difference. “And if I don’t?”
“I don’t know,” the man says, giving a soft, condescending thumb-stroke along his cheek. “They always tend to comply.”
You cannot sleep.
The tent feels crammed, even though you’re well aware that there’s more than enough space. Yeji sleeps soundly, a few feet away and face turned from you as the peaceful sighs of deep slumber escape her lips. It is dark, only the faintest hint of moonlight seeping through the tent’s thin fabric, and yet it feels too bright.
You do not wish to sleep. There are things to be done. This is no time for rest.
They have Woo.
The men you’ve been fearing this entire journey. The ones that ambushed your father, that killed Mingi, that besieged your castle and robbed your life right out from under your feet. The men that have made you paranoid, always keeping one eye over your shoulder, creating wariness with each new city and step you have taken.
The men you have feared would kill you, they have taken him instead.
And somehow that is so much worse.
It’s not something you’d anticipated, always having assumed that if the black-clad men were to find you, you would be the one to face the consequences. The idea that travelling with the three men was putting them in the crossfire of the mysterious army hadn’t occurred to you. After all, it’s your wanted posters on every city street, not theirs.
How stupid you had been, and now Woo is gone. Captured by your family’s assassins, and only the god’s know what sort of danger he is in.
It’s your fault. It’s you they really want, he is just a pawn in their greater game. You’ve been outplayed, and Woo is the one forced to pay the price of your failure.
They could be torturing him for information. You know the sorts of things powerful men do to prisoners, having heard whispers about it in your halls, the dungeons located deep beneath the castle. Using a whip to lash the back until there's more blood left than flesh, spending hours drowning them within a bucket of water, pouring vials of liquid metal along the skin. Maybe one of them is a sadist, and Woo’s face is blistered and burnt beyond repair.
Maybe he’s already dead.
You roll over, eyes accustomed enough to the darkness that you can make out the ceiling of the tent above you. Although really, what you see is Woo, pleading for mercy as one of the black-clad men delivers the final blow. Woo goes silent, his eyes still open, and you know that it is over. He is gone.
Another person you care for, dead.
You cannot just sit here like this and let that happen. However, while you were prepared to head to the Concursos Mountain Pass the moment Seonghwa placed the message down in front of you, both he and San urged caution.
“This is clearly a trap,” San had said, wrapping a hand around your wrist to stop you from heading down the path towards the refuge’s exit. “They’re going to be prepared, which means we need to be. We need to come up with a plan before we do anything.”
“We have three days,” you snapped back, frustrated. “Yeji said the journey is at the very least a full day’s ride. We don’t have the time to sit here and twiddle our thumbs.”
“Then we have a day and a half to come up with something,” San replied, tone calm but also curt. He was not entertaining the possibility of going now, no matter how much anger you added to your glare. “Maybe we can form a group of some of the other refugees and leave together.”
“There’s only two horse’s between the entire refuge,” you cut back. “We cannot make it in time by foot. There’s no chance of us building our own army, if that’s what you're implying.”
“We’ll figure it out,” San said, still not budging. However, beneath his steady gaze, you could see the faintest hint of worry. Of doubt. Of knowing that there may have been no other option but to go alone, although he was not ready to admit it. Not ready to acknowledge the truth that weighed down on each of your shoulders.
The fact that it may come down to Woo’s life, or your own.
Thus, a second truth sat just as heavy. He would choose Woo. They both would.
It’s not until this moment, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, that you realize you would choose Woo too.
You will not have him die for you. You will not have the black-clad men take anything else from you. Not him. Not like this.
If they are to kill you, let it be your own doing. Not ambushed for the money they have placed on your head, or killed silently in an alley-way along the streets of Bebbanburg. You will not be your father, stabbed at his own celebration, unaware of what was coming. If you are to die, let you come to them with your sword in hand, fighting for a man who - even when you haven’t deserved it - fought for you.
Rising to your feet, you pull the blanket off of you, heading towards the tent flap. Stopping in place, you turn back, watching Yeji’s sleeping silhouette, chest rising and falling peacefully.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and it is not only to her, but to all of them. All of the Libaiyan’s uprooted from their homes, left to wander Burovia with no kingdom to call home. They had finally been reunited with their princess, only for you to leave them once more. It is selfish. It is what your father would consider an abandonment of responsibility.
Maybe you are abandoning your royal duty, or perhaps you are fulfilling your duty to another.
Either way, it must be done.
Slipping out from under the tent flap, you can hear San and Seonghwa talking within their own tent, though you cannot make out what they are saying. Good, they're busy. They will likely not notice you’re gone until morning.
Scanning the field, the man continues to sing by the fire, and it is the same song as before. Lute in hand, he serenades the men and women surrounding him, although the number has depleted under the blanket of the night.
As you approach the horse tied to a nearby tent-pole, you sing along quietly beneath your breath, to the words you have known your entire life.
“My love for whom I do come home,”
“I’ve been bathed in scars, both body and soul,”
“And while I’ve returned beneath darkened gloam,”
“Without you this place may never be whole.”
Although, while you may sing his words, unlike the man within the song you will not be so passive.
You will find Woo, and you will bring him home. Even if you do not come back with him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
next chapter.
#seonghwa fanfiction#wooyoung fanfiction#san fanfiction#seonghwa angst#wooyoung angst#san angst#seonghwa fluff#san fluff#wooyoung fluff#seonghwa smut#san smut#wooyoung smut#seonghwa x reader#wooyoung x reader#san x reader#ateez imagines#ateez headcanons#ateez fanfiction#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez#seonghwa x you#san x you#wooyoung x you#ateez series#ateez fantasy au#wooyoung fanfic#san fanfic#seonghwa fanfic#woosanhwa
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first kiss with hamzah!
° ♡ •
-you had to be the one to initiate y’all’s first kiss, and on that note you had to teach him how to kiss lol
-he was sooooo super nervous about it
-it happened when y’all were hanging out at a park. it was almost sunset and you were originally there with y’all’s friend group but because of how late it was getting, everyone except you and hamzah left
-y’all’s friends definitely did that on purpose to make him nervous lolol
-he was rambling to you, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t nervous at all, even though you could tell. he wasn’t keeping eye contact and he was stuttering like crazy.
-you were a little bit tipsy, from the drinks your friends brought earlier, but not drunk. it just gave you a little more courage.
-you had seen how he looked at you when he wasn’t careful. it seemed every time you turned around he was there, staring.
-you were attempting to make direct eye contact with him, following his eyes as he tried to break it.
-my boy was sweating bullets LMAO
‘hamzah,’ you interrupted
-he stopped fully and looked at you worriedly
‘uhhhhh, yea?’ he replied
-you two were both sitting down, you with your knees to your chest and him doing the same, facing away from each other
-you turned to him, shifting your weight onto one hip to face him.
-he didn’t know what you were going to say and that was driving him crazy.
‘you’ve been acting kinda weird lately’ you said, in a matter of fact tone.
-he choked on his air and coughed a little
‘really?? i havent tried to be weird or……anything’ he replies, not looking at you
-its true though, and he knows it. you two have known each other since around 2021, when you first moved to Toronto. you were an online personality like he was, so y’all quickly met because of mutual friends in the area
-he knew you were cute, but when y’all first met his crush wasn’t that big. but over the years and getting to know you, he only fell harder.
-you were one of the smartest, kindest, and funniest people he knew. plus he thought you were very hot and he brought it up to martin a lot, trusting him to keep his secret.
‘whats been on your mind?’ you ask, looking him in the eye, staring too deep for his liking
‘well…um,’ he replied, feeling as though you were staring into his soul. ‘i dunno.’
-you huff, not the answer you were looking for. you had liked hamzah since you met him. and you knew he liked you because mandy spilled the beans one day.
‘i feel like you’re just acting strange around me,’ you stated, ‘is it something i did?’
-his heart sank.
‘nonononono,’ he reassures, ‘its nothing you did, you’re fine. its just- i dont know how to put it.’ he says looking down and slightly blushing.
-you think about how you can get this man to spill, and you turn over ideas in your head. you two sit in silence for a moment.
‘y’know, mandy did tell me something a couple months ago, ‘ you say in a knowing tone.
-his heart immediately starts going 100 miles a minutes, remembering that if martin hears something, he cant keep his mouth shit around mandy.
-you and mandy are very close friends, so she would definitely tell you
‘oh…..what uh was it?’ he asked, visibly nervous.
‘its probably nothing now,’ you tease, ‘but she said that a couple months ago you told martin that you had a crush on me.’
-he puts his face in his palms, knowing he cant hide his blush. cursing martin mentally.
‘oh yea um yea i definitely did bit its uh nothing now,’ he chokes out.
-you giggle at his reaction
‘you’re not acting like its nothing now,’ you laugh, looking at him all distraught.
-you laughing calms him, but then makes him 10 times more embarrassed because he doesn’t think you like him back.
-he turns to face you
‘look y/n i did kinda have a crush on you but only for a little bit! i swear its nothing now and everything’s cool and please dont be mad-,’ he rambles on like this for a good minute, trying to lessen the blow of rejection.
‘hamzah.’ you say, again making deep eye contact that makes him nervous.
‘umm yes?’ he says, his voice slightly cracking.
‘have you ever kissed anyone before?’ you ask blushing.
-this throws him wayyyyyy off guard. he’s beet red now, and kinda sweaty lol. he has only ever gotten close to kissing someone, never actually doing it. he’s scared to admit that, but he knows, as a friend, that you wouldn’t judge him.
‘um,’ he coughs, ‘no actually.’
‘can i kiss you?’ you ask boldly, also beet red by this point. you’ve never been so bold with someone in your life.
‘what? um if you want i dunno-,’ he attempts to ramble out of nervousness again but you stop him by putting a hand on his cheek.
-he instantly stops talking to face you, his heart beating out of his chest.
-you slowly move your face closer to his, admiring it as you inch close.
-you softly put your lips to his to test the waters
-his years long pent up emotions come out all at once, and he deepens the kiss.
-its rushed and juvenile but it feels so peaceful.
-you kiss for a beat longer and pull away slowly, his head following yours, not ready for this kiss is to be over.
-be looks you in the eyes and stares for a minute, wondering if you felt the same way the whole time. how could someone like you like him?? you were perfect in his eyes.
‘holy shit’
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kaelyn!! i am dropping by with some good music and new year wishes! 🎶🎉 thank you so much for being part of my 2023 🥹 i think you're so sweet!!
if i may ask!! 🥺 (pls feel free not to answer if uncomfy!!) how was 2023 for you? what’s a favourite thing (anything) you discovered this year? do you have any reflections from the past year? any resolutions for the next? 🥹
Oh my gosh, shotorus!!!! 🥹🥹🥹💗💗💗 thank you so much for your kind words. I am glad you were apart of my 2023 as well! Cheers to next year🥂
This is such a great question and it made me pause and think for a good while (I’m typing this out in my notes app lol) I haven’t reflected on my year yet so I’m doing it here.
I apologize for the length lmao.
Warning - mention of trauma (nothing graphic- literally just one line)
My 2023 was an interesting and exciting year, but also one of great challenges. Regardless, I am so proud of my accomplishments this year. I left my teen years behind and entered my twenties! Now I gotta figure out how to be an actual adult LMAO. On that note, I quit my toxic job of almost two years and was unemployed for a good two months until I started working at my current job. I traveled outside of the country for the first time. I spent 3 weeks in July with my Uncle traveling Europe. This trip was the highlight of my year for so so so so many reasons. It was also my first time leaving home and being separated from my parents for a long period of time.
Being away from home wasn’t as bad as I was scared it was going to be—I actually loved it. While on my trip, I learned so much about myself as a person and figured out what I want in life for myself. I actually learned how to think for myself instead of others this year, which is a big deal because I am always so worried about others that I never take the time to take care of myself.
On this trip, I had a lot of epiphanies. My family isn’t perfect—we have our issues like everyone else……but this year I actually started to sit down and start to unpack some of my unresolved childhood trauma. It’s nothing graphic, trust me, but let’s just say that my sister and I only had each other 90% of the time. My sister and I have started to actually talk about our experiences with one another and are slowly coming to terms with it and heal. I am so proud of this. We are making progress that should have started years ago, but it’s not too late. There is hope!
As for resolutions….i want to do better—by myself and others. I want to actually put myself first in some cases and do what’s best for me and my mental health instead of catering to others. Does that make me selfish? I don’t know….
My overall goal is to get accepted into university and get started on my future—on my own two feet and not relying on others, at least for now. I want to be independent for the first time in my life. I’m TERRIFIED, but I know that I will be okay.
I have a great support system—I got all of y’all here, my family, my boyfriend, and my irl friends. I am so thankful to all of you, even if we don’t talk much and only interact by liking each others posts. Meeting my mutuals on here has been a highlight of my year, and I am so happy to go into the New Year with you all. Regardless of if you live nearby or on the other side of the word, I am super thankful to each and everyone of you. I cannot put it into words. I love you all and I pray that you are blessed in 2024
💗🫶🏻✨
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Alright, finished Yu Wu, so now we have our character breakdowns!
Our Main Cast:
Murong Lian: I am so serious when I say that a sad (not even tragic, just fucking “sucks I guess, dude” sad!) backstory and working with the MCs towards a mutually beneficial goal IS NOT A REDEMPTION ARC.
Yue Chenqing: a lesson in why ignorance is NOT bliss and you should NOT blindly follow whatever your elders say. (Especially if your “respectable elder” is a known rapist with children he don’t even know about under his own roof falling in love with each other 😬). I expected that he’d experience some traumatic bullshit, but holy shit?
Jiang Yexue: I knew there was something off about him, but holy shit????? Hope he rots in hell, but also, he was obviously tainted by that dark cultivation he took in to save his brother’s life, so maybe the real villain who needs to rot in hell is their rapist daddy 💁🏽♀️
Murong Chuyi: I knew he liked Yue Chenqing deep down and that something must have happened to make him turn on Jiang Yexue, but holy shit???? Anyways, hope he gets to beat that fool’s AND his rapist daddy’s asses in the afterlife before reincarnating into the most peaceful next life. (On another note, wtf is up with meatbun and jumping into blood pools????)
The emperor: I CALLED IT! A MOTHERFUCKING SNAKE AND A COWARD 🗣🗣🗣 IF YOU TRUSTED HIM AT ANY POINT, DON’T TALK TO ME 🗣🗣🗣
Guoshi of Liao/Hua Po’an: everyone is afraid of this super ultra powerful, seemingly invincible guoshi and ain’t none of y’all stopped to think, “wow, this is suspicious; wonder if that one villain IN ALL OUR STORIES maybe didn’t die, especially since we keep seeing hints that the one who “killed” him and died with him is ALSO not dead!” What foolishness… Anyways, man had plans on plans and still couldn’t predict human kindness, what a tool lmao
Princess Mengze: everyone was playing 3D chess with politics but bitch was on 4D; I was shook 😳
Gu Mang: MY BOY! Wwx if he was written into a trauma porn novel. Stuck. To. His. Convictions!!! Every reveal of his was a whammy on top of a whammy 😭😭😭 Thought he was out here being Naruto-level foolish without the protagonist halo, but he was really out here playing 4D chess on human morality with the best of them! GIVE HIM HIS FLOWERS 💐 💐💐
Mo Xi: love how he loves Gu Mang. Hate how goddamn naive he is. At some points, instead of feeling emotionally overwhelmed, I was just getting secondhand embarrassment. Would obviously NOT survive a political intrigue novel.
Honorable mentions:
Lu Zhanxing: his death fucking suuuuuucked, but he was a real one.
Li Wei: standing up to the emperor’s men to protect your lord, LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO
Lan’er (Changfeng-jun’s daughter): they didn’t have to do her like that… (also, is she still alive???? We just kinda drop her and never check back in????)
Madam Jiang/Su Yurou: wish I could be this unbothered in the face of conflict, while having the balls to defy the most terrifying not-quite-human in the known world 😭 glad she survived 💙
Jiang Fuli: fuck, I’m glad HE survived! He deserves it!
Hong Shao: she walked into death bravely and heartbrokenly, and I wish she didn’t have to. I hope she and Li Qingqian reincarnate into a better life where they grow to be the old man and hag together, like she dreamed…
Li Qingqian: the way he found out that in attempting to save Hong Shao, he had actually killed his love AND that her murderer “was” the man who saved him? I’m glad Su Yurou got to tell him the truth, and I hope he was able to reunite with Hong Shao in the afterlife
#yu wu#yuwu spoilers#human reads yuwu#i think this is everyone#I’ll come back if i remember someone i care about#but the thing about this book is that while there seems to be a lot of characters#there aren’t actually?#or many aren’t that important anyway
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Stop this is so self indulgent and fluffy but we’re here for a good time!! Your ABO lore is so cute I love the idea of Cove literally proposing after the accident bonding, because at that point it’s going to come naturally so why not now? Plus he has to answer to your parents and his for what went down lmao this is his form of damage control in showing that he’s not being irresponsible!! Not totally!! Okay maybe he still was because you both are so young, but this was going to happen eventually!! Cove being embarrassed about being around literally anyone after you two are bonded because it’s very clear what yall have been up to, love that so much
oh yea he’d be so embarrassed 💀 poor guy gets enough from liz and lee but just wait until the next hangout w terri and randy he is GONE
and if baxter is still around he’d think it’s so funny too but at the end of the day all ur friends r happy for u two and congratulate u on the milestone
they also def make jokes abt y’all having pups in the near future and cove is gonna combust as if he wasn’t moaning in ur ear abt that when y’all were fucking lolol
ur parents are happy for y’all! BUT ur still young and they do encourage u to hold off on having pups
part of them want to encourage the marriage because u alrdy bonded but the other part is like y’all r still 18 so pls wait a bit more 😅
and I think coves parents would be the most apprehensive, naturally, but they kno coves relationship w u has more foundation than theirs did. plus u two bonded alrdy while cliff and kyra were still mutually holding out on that even after having cove. I think in the end they’d trust u and cove to make the right decisions given ur relationship history
side note, but cove is so glad u two did it after u graduated high school bc he does NOT wanna deal w the consequences of being bonded while attending hs
like y’all would be the talk of the town, equivalent to people getting married or pregnant in hs but WORSE cause again, bond marks are like the ultimate sign of commitment and they are lifelong
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SHIPPER CHALLENGE (idk man i just wanted to do one of these)
Pick your top ten ships without reading the questions.
1. hizzie - legacies
2. klaroline - tvd/the originals
3. forwood - tvd
4. klamille - the originals
5. steroline - tvd
6. rellamy - t100
7. rogan - gilmore girls
8. jude/cardan - tfota
9. clato - the hunger games
10. villadero - jane the virgin
Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6? Idk man I shipped b*llarke for a reeeallly long time and then i kind of went into the braven tag out of curiosity and ended up loving them. i think my fave ep was either the one where they slept together or the s4 finale when raven promised to be by his side for always.
Have you ever read a FanFiction about 2? Yep, definitely, I have 200 KC fics bookmarked on ao3 and a lot of the fic I read in general is about them.
Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr avatar? Um, nope. At least, not of Klaus and Cami together, but I was using a cami icon for my blog temporarily.
If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be? Oh they already did and I haven’t gotten to that ep of Gilmore Girls but i’m fully prepared to be emotionally destroyed by it :’D
Why is 1 so important? Uhm because they are absolutely everything, all the tropes rolled into one beautiful package. Because their personalities are so strong and well thought out and they complement each other, they make each other better, their story is integral to the plot of legacies, they’re absolutely perfect, they belong together, and they just can’t quit each other lol. Enemies to frenemies to best friends to back to enemies to sirebonded lovers for the win y’all!
Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship? Uhm they have like very little canon interactions and scenes together, so maybe a funny ship I guess. Especially because Clove is such a fierce and violent little thing, and she can be aggressive and heated in the moment but I also think she’s very cool and calculating when her rage isn’t getting the better of her, but unfortunately my wonderful girl is practically just a joke character at this point, and fandom dislikes her a looot. Like it’s been years and she was such a minor character, as was Cato so there’s not a lot of content for them at this point. :p
Out of all of your ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry? Either rellamy or klaroline.
Out of all of the ships, which ship has the strongest bond? Uhh, I can’t decide between rellamy or villadero. Rellamy have been through so much together, have been partners, friends, co-leaders, and have a wonderful relationship based on mutual respect and adoration. I think they’re each other’s ride or die and the circumstances of t100 definitely made that more intense. But also villadero have also been through a lot together, just in a different way from rellamy, more telenovella style ;) especially considering michael’s death and resurrection lol. And they are best friends, they speak highly of each other, they love and trust each other, and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together... You can see how it would be hard to choose lmao.
How many times have you read/watched 10′s fandom? I’ve only watched JTV once, I wasn’t interesting in a rewatch right now, but the relationship between the Villanueva women and the emphasis on family as well as romantic love kind of made it a comfort show for me, so I might rewatch it at some point!
Which ship has lasted the longest? Uhm I counted and six of these pairings have at least one or both dead characters (does villadero count??? idk) and a lot of them broke up at some point (rellamy was never together unfortunately :p) and then there’s rogan who had a breakup, infidelity, pregnancy, and ambiguous ending... as well as hizzie who haven’t gotten together and whose story is still unfolding (RENEW LEGACIES!!!!!). i’m just going to say jurdan because cardan is immortal and they’re both alive?? i guess???? idk.
How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up? THEY WERE NEVER EVEN TOGETHER THE WRITERS DIDN’T GIVE THEM A FAIR CHANCE, JUST A STOLEN KISS AND A ONE NIGHT STAND (*sobs*).
If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8? LMAO this is a good one because klaroline are literally immortal vampires and klaus is the original hybrid... but also jurdan have a fair amount of healthy survival instinct, combat skills, and general badassery (jude more than cardan), and there’s the fact that cardan’s immortal... i’ll just say KC because they would legit just be chilling in klaus’s mansion or in paris somewhere, not getting their brains eaten (they’re too dead for that! XD).
Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason? Not that i know of? at least not on gilmore girls, in the spinoff they did have to hide because they were cheating on odette *sighs as yet again another ship of mine is ruined by infidelity*
Is 4 still together? No because they’re both dead :’( maybe they’re together in the afterlife tho!
Is 10 canon? Yes but unfortunately not endgame :/
If all ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which pair would win? Uhhh clato didn’t win in their hunger games so as much as I love my two violent babies I don’t think these two teenagers would win especially with the rest of these couples as competition... villadero would be out immediately because jane hates camping and she much prefers her romance novels to violence and gore, and while michael is a cop and would have some physical duress, probably?? i don’t think he stands a chance against the others. I feel bad not giving Cami the credit she deserves but she’s a pretty unexperienced vamp especially in physical combat so she’s out... raven has her mental durability/genius and both she and bellamy have physical strength and combat capabilities but I don’t think Raven building bombs will work against Klaus or Caroline lmao. I think forwood are the star crossed lovers and would make a good team, given Tyler’s werewolf senses and Caroline’s enhanced power as a vampire but Tyler might not survive... no one’s going to overpower the original hybrid, not even jurdan, so i think either KC, or CK if klaus can keep cami from being killed (which yes she can handle herself my wonderful independent bb but I don’t think she’d survive Raven mf Reyes), would win.
Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5′s ship? Uhm does Klaus count? Because he didn’t seem to keen on interfering since he had his own problems to deal with in NOLA and seemed happy that caroline and stefan were happy together... IDK i haven’t watched past s4 but i think a lot of obstacles came in SC’s way in s6? was it someone named cade? and also wasn’t alaric into caroline too? (ew gross go d*e you pedophilic old man jfc)
Which ship would you defend to death and beyond? villadero, klamille, rogan, and rellamy
Do you spend hours a day going through 3′s tumblr page? No not really?? I do search for forwood content tho even if the fandom is practically dying :/
If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all up forever, which ship would you sink? RUDE! But uhm I guess clato since they never got together in the first place?? Or KC because as much as I like them they weren’t really ever on the same page in their lives to get together anyways and the fandom is pretty awful (and I’m only talking about the bad apples, I know a lot of nice KC shippers who I enjoy talking to!)
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Hi 🥺 I would like to request some fluff headcanons with Giyu/Sanemi, based on the very first time you show each other your vulnerabilities. You may interpret this any way you want, it could be a conversation, physical touch, letting go of a hard facade (hello Sanemi), I would just be very happy to read your interpretation of this! Thank you 💙
Tyvm for your request! ☺️ I appreciate knowing I could interpret it any way I wanted, bc it def took a while for inspo to strike regardless. 😅 Hope you're having a wonderful weekend: may your Sunday be sunny and spectacular. ☀️💖
Author’s Note: what is ~hcs other than an informally written one shot ????? 🤪
firsts - rendered speechless
Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader
Word Count: ~2,100
CW: explicit language, mild sexual content, traumatic references
~faqs, image~
W/ you, Sanemi talks a lot
Like, actual, proper talking
Not just being pissy lol
Asking how you slept, complimenting your occasional smile, venting about what’s annoying him atm
There’re very few ppl he feels safe being… normal (??) w/
Bc actual, proper talking can be ~hard 😵
So even tho some of the things he rambles about may seem mundane
They’re his subtle way of revealing his comfortability, his trust, in you
In fact, the more mundane, the more intimate ??
He prob despises small talk
So like: if he mentions the weather, then you know he’s ✨smitten✨
Bc w/ you, nothing feels like small talk
W/ you, he believes you’re genuinely intrigued, fascinated, enthralled
Believes you care about knowing him
Him in general, and him in the moment — in every moment
—Do you know how heartbreaking it is to open up to someone who doesn’t give a fuck ??
—Personal anecdote: an ex of mine admitted that they weren’t usually interested in what I had to say so they’d tune me out, and then I dated them for another ~yr lmao
—Live and learn
Investing in someone, in a romantic relationship, doesn’t just mean investing in them
It also means letting someone invest in you
The more you give, the deeper they can affect you
The more you give, the less you have to hide behind
And Sanemi is hyper aware of this
As are you !!
—I don’t exactly imagine a romantic relationship w/ Sanemi being slow burn
—But it’s not a whirlwind either
—The slowest part is trudging through the (mutual) friendzone
—Him friendzoning you bc: better to be the one friendzoning than the one friendzoned, right ??
—And you friendzoning him bc: you assume he’s off limits romantically (his glaring doesn’t scream LOVE ME right off the bat, yanno?), so why trouble yourself w/ that inevitable heartache ??
—Dw, obvi y’all figure it out ~eventually 🙃
Which def leads to you talking less
Not bc you’re passive!
And not bc he talks over you !!
You just absolutely treasure the closeness nurtured w/ every word he utters
Sure, easy silences are considered a hallmark of a mature, developed relationship
Which is true w/ Sanemi as well
BUT, what’s also true is the difficulty vulnerability he typically has w/ expressing himself
Not just romantic, cheesy expression altho that shit’s SCARY
But literally like, what he ate for lunch and that he misses you
Or what he wants to do after sparring bathe together bc y’all are sweaty af and he just wants to cherish you and your body
Or what he needs from you when he wakes up, phantom pain shackled to his skin, glistening scars its keeper contrary to intuition: touch them, trace them — remind him of his wholeness even as you grieve his loss
So you talk less, bc you want more
More, more, and more of Sanemi
As much as he’s willing to give
Is how much you’re willing, happy, grateful to love
“I should go.”
Everything is seeped in grey
Not the pastel grey of Sanemi’s laughter
Or the warm grey of his desire
Or even the neutral grey of his exhaustion
This grey is
Calculated
Painted over a razor thin sheen of crimson
An unforgiving, flickering that you’d almost forgotten
That you’d hoped you’d never see
Again
“I…” he shakes his head, softly
Too softly
“I knew I’d hurt you.”
“Nemi, what is-”
“Listen to your heart, and tell me it’s okay,” he’s frowning, despondent moonlight faintly illuminating the curve of his bare chest, “Lie to me.”
You blink sleepily, your jaw propped up on your palm, “Can we talk about this after we’ve gone back to sleep? And slept? It’s the middle of-”
“I know it’s the middle of the night,” he snaps, “Which is why I should go,” he gestures roughly at your face, “You’re crying.”
“Sanemi,” you’re firmer now, kakebuton rustling as you move to mirror his upright position, “Of course I’m crying,” he flinches, unrecognizable shame stuttering his breath, “When you cry,” you reach out, fingertips resting on his clammy shoulder, relief spreading through to your elbow, your collarbone, your sternum when he doesn’t shrug you off, “I cry with you.”
“I’m not crying.”
You’d giggle if you weren’t so exasperated — so desperate to adjust his perception
He’s just so stubborn and clueless and battered and I’m so in love with you it’s ridiculous
“Let me look out for you, just as you look out for me,” you murmur, rubbing feather light circles along his throat, feeling as he swallows thickly
Let me love you, just as you love me
“How many nights have I woken you?” he’s unnervingly calm, “How many nights have I been a mess?” he snorts, “Most of them? All of them? You share a bed with a broken stranger. A patchwork of not good enough. You cry for someone false. For someone who doesn’t exist. Who only exists in the fleeting seclusion of us. But us can’t exist out there,” he grasps your thigh, squeezing reassuringly even as he wrings his own heart, “We can’t exist here either.”
“To love is a choice, Sanemi,” he grunts at your statement, “Are you taking that choice from me?”
His grip on your thigh tightens, harsh denial of your question in his gut
“Maybe love itself isn’t always born from conscious will, but to keep loving? To keep tending, to keep trying? How could you ever be a broken stranger to me? I know how to find your favorite constellation, can prepare your tea perfectly, have a mental map of your ticklish spots, and you talk with me. I know the three shadows that haunt your eyes, and how to dissipate them; that you stare into puddles because you think they’re shiny and pretty; that you fold a paper crane every year, scared it’ll be your last. I listen to you. Why should you go when I want you to stay? When you want to stay? I’m not hurting because of you — I’m hurting with you. We can exist. We do exist. We exist and we care and talk and listen and hurt and love. Yesterday, I woke up and I chose you. This morning, I woke up and I chose you. And when I wake up tomorrow, I’m certain I’ll choose you. How can something so consistent, so intentful, so solid be false?”
A long second, minute — minutes, pass
You’re patient
Listening
Interpreting tender promises in the quiet
I don’t know
Sanemi’s spine gradually relaxes, eyes losing their erratic glimmer as he melts into your steadiness
I don’t know
Your body following his as he settles beneath the kakebuton, curling familiarly around his weary form as he presses his toes tentatively to your shins
I don’t know
His hand waiting for yours as you sling a secure arm over his side, his fingers loosely interlocking with yours as soon as they nudge against each other
I don’t want to go
The cadence of your pulse guiding him
My beacon he kisses your knuckles My Polaris
I think part of the reason Giyuu’s less talkative is bc it’s much easier to be articulate in one’s head than out loud
~Totally relatable 😝
Pair that w/ social—general—anxiety, and it’s even more understandable why someone (Giyuu) might be less talkative
But that obvi doesn’t make them (Giyuu) any less fascinating 👀
Ever crushed on someone from so far of a distance that you wonder if you’re imagining them?
And then they pop up at your local supermarket or something and you realize all over again that
They exist
They’re breathtaking
They don’t know you exist (at least, they don’t make a habit of greeting your existence)
Yeah
That’s you w/ Giyuu
Your admiration isn’t completely unwarranted or unreasonable 😅
As a fellow Hashira, you’ve absolutely earned your place, your right to stare at him during Hashira meetings
And, as a fellow Hashira, you carry the weight of those before you
Every night, you count them on your fingers, quickly segueing into the fog of your memories
Because you don’t have enough fingers for all the faces—for all the beginnings without middles, ending too abruptly—you swore to remember
A process, a ritual, an oath: your feeble, desperate grasp on your humanity
That takes most—all—of the night
Every. Night.
“[y/n]-san.”
Tomioka-san ??
“[y/n]-san,” he repeats, “Can you hear me? Are you that tired?”
“Tired?” you mean to retort sharply, but you mumble instead
“Are you sleeping?” he asks
You swoon at his sternness
Internally, ofc 😌
“I think this is the first time you’ve willingly talked with me,” you grin lopsidedly
He has the grace to look away, his visible ear tinged red at the truth of your quip
“I’m sorry for that,” he’s unexpectedly soft, fingers clenching and unclenching nervously, “[y/n]-san, are you sleeping?”
“Not currently,” you shrug, rolling your eyes amusedly
—When I tell you Giyuu is flabbergasted rn… like, how tf is he supposed to maintain a convo w/ you when you’re just shitposting every sentence ?? This is why Giyuu’s less talkative 😂
—It’s not entirely your fault tho !! You haven’t slept properly in like, ~months ☹️
“Okay, currently you’re awake,” his tone swells with irritation, “But in general. Are you okay? Because you…” he hesitates, belatedly realizing his next remark’ll reveal more than he intended, “You looked ready to pass out during the meeting.”
You blink at him, the significance of his observation fluttering past your sleep deprived guard—unnoticed—as his question Are you okay? sinks slowly, gradually, eventually to the bottom of your haze
“I’m not okay,” you nod obliviously, “Too busy counting.”
Shit
You’re exhausted, but
Shitshitshit
Please don’t-
“Counting?” you’ve—unfortunately—piqued his interest They’re not okay?
“Yeah, 1, 2, 3, 4,” you drawl, almost playful
Thing is, Giyuu knows that trick
Knows every damn trick in the book
how to handle shit on your own 101
how to push others away because you can handle shit on your own 202
how to make others believe you aren’t pushing them away—they just prefer solitude—so you don’t have to acknowledge how poorly you’re “handling” shit on your own 303
And he also knows
You can’t unread a book
Can’t unsew the threads of arriving too late, being too weak, surviving you and only you without accidentally tearing a necessary stitch
Can’t unmuddle the mud without sacrificing its thickness, its heft, its muddiness
There’s a fine line between nurturing new roots, and losing the very plant itself
So he doesn’t push you
Doesn’t force himself into your state of mind
Doesn’t fake nonchalance or concern
“Tomioka-san.”
You grimace at the way his name floats needily off your tongue, a whimper jammed in your constricting throat
He’s awestruck
He’s touching you
Barely
The quietest graze of heat
Prior to his contact, you would’ve bet against him having gentle, careful skin
And you would've lost
—You expect him to be… cooler, glass, the void connecting the stars
But warmth—his warmth—smoothes the numb tiredness beneath your eyes
The boldness of his gesture negated by the kind tentativeness, innocent curiosity, familiar worry in his searching gaze
“Breathe, [y/n]-san.”
You choke out a messy, endeared laugh at the irony of his steady reassurance
Am I really a Hashira? Breathe? I should breathe?
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you mutter
He pauses, confusion flitting across his expression at the sudden tautness in your eyes, “I do.”
“Okay…” you raise an eyebrow, certain that you’re pulling away from his caress, “So go.”
In actuality, you’re caught in his openness, savoring the closeness of his heart
He doesn’t move
The lightness of his thumb still pressing faintly, tenderly, into plush of your cheekbone
Oh?
Does that… am I… is this…
“If I’m allowed to stay,” he murmurs, “Then I’ll listen.”
What. What does that. Huh?
He traces the hollows of your sleepless nights, sees himself in their swollen fatigue, knows without doubt, reluctance, fear that you’re racing
Racing toward a bitterness that stabs at the backs of his knees
A bitterness that doesn’t deserve you
A bitterness that, he decides in a split second, he’ll do ~anything to prevent from overtaking you
“I used to count too,” he confesses
Hoping, hoping, hoping
That he’s using the right key
#hashira x reader#headcanons#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi x reader#tomioka giyuu#giyuu x reader#request
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Pick a Card: How Would They React If You’d Confess Your Feelings?
Pick one of the pictures from above to see how the person you’re thinking about would react if you’d confess your feelings towards them. This PAC is meant to either give you emotional support, or the contrary, tell you this may not be the right person. Take it how it resonates.
feel free to suggest PAC ideas in the inbox!
Please like and reblog 〽️
masterlist
Pile 1
KOW, KNOC, Temperance, 3W, 6S, AOP, “Full Moon”
I get that the person you’re thinking about is gonna react pretty mature. This is someone who takes things very practical and logical and they surely won’t be the type to tell you “let me think about it”. I see them looking long at you and slowly starting to smile. If you’d confess your feelings to them they’d probably tell you that they feel the same, but for some reason, I rather get friendly vibes from them. So perhaps they might tell you they feel the same but they don’t want a relationship just yet, yk what I mean? They won’t tell you that they want a relationship with you, but rather they’ll tell you that it’s not the perfect time to have a relationship. Maybe this person is quite busy with work or with their career/school and they aren’t really willing to put work in a relationship at the moment. I feel that for some of you, this person is normally very tired and they don’t really get a lot of sleep. Idk pile 1, I feel like you should trust your gut.
So yeah, I personally wouldn’t confess at the moment because it’s not quite the right time. Wait for a moment or wait until they start giving you more obvious hints that they like you just as much and that they are willing to put work into creating this beautiful relationship you deserve.
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Pile 2
AOP, 5W, 8C, Hierophant, Justice, 6W, “Moon in Taurus”
My chest started to hurt when I started writing for this pile and the cards are also pretty twisted. I mean, the meaning is pretty twisted and when I’ve asked for a song for this pile, I got “Don’t you know”. They could be trying t detach at the moment of your confession and pretty much try to look cool, but they can’t lol. They’re in the 5 of wands place. I sense heavy breathing for some of you coming from them or you could be coming from you. Nah like wtf is this pile even. I can’t understand why your person is so paranoid lmao. It’s like “ru fr?”. I just accidentally hit myself in the chin. This person will be anxious and they might feel as if you’re joking or you’re playing with them. This pile makes me so mad BROOOO. Bro I needed to pull another 6 cards from my other deck to clear this pile out wtf. Ok so they will be very scared.
You’ll surprise them with this thing. The feelings are mutual, but they won’t be able to say anything because of the shock and fear. They’ll feel inferior because you were the one to make the first step and not them. They will feel that things move too fast and they will want you to wait. Doesn’t really seem to be worth in my opinion. Bro it feels like my psychic gifts have left my head lmao. They’ll be probably trembling. Better to not tell them. Let them make the first step. They’ll know when they’re ready. You keep giving them hints, they’ll eventually understand.
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Pile 3
KOP, 3S, KOC, QOC, QOS, 5P, “Moon in Scorpio”
Y’all are the chillest so far. This person will certainly share their feelings with you once you’d let them know you like them. The vibes are pretty chill. Their reaction will be very calm lol, I don’t see much tension here. Maybe this person has an ex of which they’d be thinking of when you’ll confess your feelings and they’re gonna ask themselves “wait, did X do the same thing as this person did right now?”, but yeah, those are only intrusive thoughts. They’ll probably be like “yeah sure, why not hang out more?”. I’m shitting tears right now bro cause this reaction is so controlled.
They will let you know that you guys have mutual feelings. They’re extremely friendly and they will appreciate the effort you did. You’re gonna be very relieved after this confession. It could be that you’ve been waiting for a while. Definitely mutual feelings for this pile. This person sees you at their level so will pretty much feel safe around you. Yeah, you just gotta step on your fears and be confident because there isn’t really much to be scared of. This isn’t pile 2, this is pile 3, so be happy, not scared/anxious like pile 2 (boy I’m getting trauma from the pile).
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Pile 4
Justice, Temperance, 8P, 6C, Devil, 2P, “New Moon”
This pile is more of a cold one. They’ll be chill about it, but still act cold for some reason. Could be their egos(?). They’ll tell you that they’re willing to put work but they’re a bit stuck in life at the moment, but at least they’re willing to put work. They’ll tell you that they feel the same and that they feel a soul connection with you. Yeah nevermind, remember how I told you they’re calm, yeah, they probably will be very conflicted.
Not worth it girl. This is like pile 2 Istg. You have to start a new chapter with this person or else it won’t lead you anywhere. It could be that you’re gonna start a new chapter with them once you tell them how you feel. If you’re into manifestation, you could try and ask the universe for a beautiful relationship with this person or ask them if they are even worth it. Many times the people we care for don’t deserve the time and energy. This person will respond tho affirmative. They’re going to tell you that they feel the same but they won’t really be able to be as affectionate as you’d like. They need to leave something behind in order to get pass those feelings. I guess you should let them do what they need to do. Let me be the initiatior.
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Pile 5
POW, Judgement, POC, QOP, QOW, Sun, “First Quarter Moon”
I feel like they’ve been expecting for you to confess your feelings. They don’t seems to have feelings as strong as yours but they still like you. They’ve been waiting for you to take the first step, this is like pile 1 but from the other perspective. They’re like “I knew this moment was gonna come.”. Your person could be gifted psychically-wise. They could have a very good intuition or could be able to predict events easily. They’ll be very warm to you and may even act maternal (?). They will surely empathize with you and they will be very happy to hear that what they’ve expected has finally arrived. They have a very soft stare haha, they’ll think you’re adorable. This person could be older than you with a couple of years so maybe that’s why. Feels like your person wanted to see if you had the balls to tell them how you feel.
They’d certainly admire you if you did so. I just heard “you’re worthy for it” so they could be the type of person to know through what you should go in order to align on your own path. I don’t think that they gave you hints that they like you and I don’t feel that you’d expect them to react this way lmao. Go for it, you’ll earn their deep respect. You literally got nothing to lose so far.
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Bye bye 🤍
#Spotify#SoundCloud#tarot#tarot community#pac#pick a card#tarot cards#onenormalperson4012#pick a picture#astrology#spotify#romania#psychic#psychic medium#psychic tarot#psychic tarot medium#tarot readings#tarot pick a card#tarot pac
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How did you and your boyfriend find each other given that you share a tickle fetish? I have a huge fetish for tickling and would like advice on how to find a suitable tickle partner. Thanks! 😊
Wait have we never talked about The Origin Story™️ @helixtickl? We have been REMISS!
But before I talk about that, I have to make very very very clear that this was luck, serendipity, fantastic stroke of unexpected joy. I wanted to meet this man and have a drink, not start planning the rest of my life with him (but boy am I enjoying that). That being said, I was not actively searching for a long-term partner with a mutual kink, so this isn’t so much instructional as it is story time.
So without further ado…
As is the case with many women, I’m much more comfortable with meeting people my own friends have vouched for already. Strangers are sources of danger, it’s just the way it goes.
At the time, just over 2.5 years ago (holy shit so long!!!), I lived a few hours from my friend Katie and we had planned a girls trip! While we were hanging out, she mentioned Helix was a good friend of hers in the city we went to and she thought we would get along.
I, being an agent of chaos, immediately found him here on tumblr and asked if he wanted to come to the bar we planned on that night to scare the shit of out her. Lovingly. He, being equally devious and chaotic, said BET.
(Just scrolled back SO far in the messages of my old blog to find this LMAO)
So what do you know, he shows up and this man. Y’all this MAN 😍 Handsome man shows up casually, and immediately buys the first round, charming fella he is. He’s funny, he’s interesting, he’s vouched for by my friend (in multiple contexts), so we take the party back to our AirBnB.
And it was FUN. We both spent a while tickling and teasing Katie, brat that she is, who had been tormenting me relentlessly for the last day anyways. I thought “Aha! Revenge! Thank goodness he’s stronger than me and can actually hold her down!”
And then it turned into “Oh FUCK he’s stronger than me” when they turned on me!
(Admittedly, it had me absolutely drenched by an hour in, I thought I was going to leave a puddle and never live it down.)
Anyways, after the trip, we all kept in touch for a while… and then Helix and I started our own texting instead of in a group… and then we started making visits to each other’s places… and after 3 months, we decided to try a long-term committed long-distance relationship!
I imagine he has his own perspective he might like to offer, so you may want to ask him, but that’s how I remember the budding adventure we started.
Now I’m sure this didn’t really help in the advice column, so I’ll just say this:
There is nothing better for any vanilla or kink relationship than a good friendship. It’s got to be the foundation, the true source of trust and joy between you and your partner. Start there, and not for the sake of self-benefit, but because it’s wonderful, and let it grow.
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MERLIN’S APPRENTICE & MERLIN’S CHAMPION || trollhunters
warnings: swearing
a/n: if rott gave me anything it gave me this idea
I KNOW I SAID “JUICY” BUT REALLY THAT WAS JUST THE ANGST POTENTIAL,, THAT IM NOT INDULGING IN THIS POST IM SORRY LMAO
OKAY WHAT IM REALLY TALKING BOUT HERE IS A GOOD MERLIN/ARTHUR BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS
no sorry i haven’t seen bbc merlin don’t come for me i’m ignorant
OKAY SO
we know douxie kept an eye on the human trollhunter and co
but douxie’s really having a hard time convincing himself he’s just doing his job
he’s actually enjoying this a little too much despite how boring staying in the shadows is
and he’s kinda worried?
so he’s got this bright idea: you know what would better help him keeps tabs? if he befriends this person
and so he does
fuck merlin’s shadows
sod the rules
ofc he’s very up front about knowing they’re the trollhunter and that he’s merlin’s apprentice
we wouldn’t want that to become a huge festering secret that eats douxie from the inside out until the inevitable reveal when merlin calls them both to help with the arcane order and they realize they’ve both been lying to each other’s faces for months/years and neither of them know if they could ever trust the other again, right? — phew *catches breath*
but before you know it, mr. casperan and mx. trollhunter are best friends
he’s basically the toby to your jim
and you’re very happy to have a best friend like douxie
he understands that monster hunting hustle
he’s the only person you can vent to and actually talk about what’s going on without sounding like a loon
and douxie likes being able to tell someone all his frustrations with merlin, since you’re also in that boat with him
you spar sometimes. it’s fun, but you’re very careful not to accidentally hurt your friend (he’s extremely careful not to hurt you or wound your ego by effortlessly wiping you out)
ofc, there’s the occasional, brushing of hands, faces a little too close together, accidentally winding up on top of one another, purposefully winding up on top of one another 👀 you know how sparring be
you and douxie are a duo. a duo who have become trollmarket’s resident troublemakers, to vendel’s exasperation
you guys tease each other a lot
you do a lot of stupid shit, cause hey, now you have magic armor and a magic sword and a magic best friend, did you think you wouldn’t get up to some shenanigans?
douxie is your impulse control and he’s not a very good one, as he’s just as bad
truthfully archie has the brain cell
and pranks? gods the pranks. you two are always either pranking each other or you’re teaming up to prank some other troll who said smth mean to you in the pub. vendel had to personally put a stop to it (read: chew you out)
doux thinks the world of you tho, you’re such a noble knight, and likes to tell people about how you’re a cinnamon roll, so innocent, so pure
and then they meet you and you directly contradict those statements
trollhunter: i’ve never done anything wrong in my life, ever
douxie: i know this and i love you
(spoiler: you’ve done lots and lots of wrong)
doux spends an awful lot of time slinking around trollmarket now, and he’s in the know for everything that’s happening
(no more being kept in the dark for this wizard apprentice)
and doux knows merlin won’t completely approve of this, but hey, it’s not like he’s helping and thus directly disobeying
really, he’s not helping you at all, it’s really fucking annoying
okay so mayyybe the occasional healing spell. you’ve got those puppy dog eyes he can’t say no to
but you understand his sense of duty, or whatever it is that drives a follower, technically being a follower of merlin yourself
you respect the old geezer (as you have not been turned into a half-troll yet) as a wise mythical figure, and as your best friend’s father
and what a perfect match you are for each other, champion and apprentice, mutually being screwed over by a guy you both think has all the answers
you and douxie help each other grow in your self-worths, that you two are more than the chances merlin has given to you
unfortunately, mortifyingly, you have caught feelings.
douxie has also caught feelings, and is saying nothing yep you have enough on your plate without him putting this on you so he’ll just quietly pine and suffer don’t mind him choking to death in the corner when you take off your helmet and throw back your hair
y’all’s problem really starts manifesting itself as protectiveness. you are really protective of your wizard and he is really protective of his knight
lots of things said that are Not What Friends Say but neither of you really want to be the one to point that out
lots and lots of i love yous that slowly get more and more serious until it’s not exactly platonic anymore
and it’s just really nice to have someone to get coffee (or your favored hot drink) with at four in the morning after a tussle with a troll
and that’s basically how you and douxie spend the bulk of trollhunters, just vibing
as much as you can vibe, with all the changelings and shit trying to murder you all the time
then merlin wakes up and shakes up your world
you are aware of your impending doom
you’re aware of it
merlin keeps looking you up and down like he’s mentally making up the measurements of your coffin
and tbh the idea of fighting gunmar freaks you tf out
and you’re supposed to win that fight?
gods
you’re preparing for your nightmares coming true soon
truthfully you knew your fucking job had a 100% mortality rate
you don’t want to die with regrets
so
you spill
you spill all the things you’d wanted to tell him and how much he means to you and that you couldn’t bear it if you were a goner before he knew
miraculously, douxie feels the same and tells you all the things he’d been holding back and and what you mean to him and how much he wants to protect you, that you’re gonna make it, if he had anything to say about it
and everything is perfect for one night
now you have a real reason to win
not that saving humanity isn’t a big responsibility on your shoulders and definitely A Reason
but knowing douxie’s waiting for you, for the life you’ll build together after this, the peace you’ll both have, it’s absolutely a big motivation to give your all and come out victorious and survive
hahaha loser you don’t know about the arcane order
and then merlin uses your microwave to cook a weird potion
you and merlin are alone in the house, but there’s no real mind games necessary. you may have grown past thinking he was a god, but in the end, you’re still a follower of merlin, and if merlin thinks this could give you an edge, well, who are you to question his methods
doesn’t mean you aren’t nervous as your master hands you the bottle
yet you don’t even hesitate to drown yourself in the black abyss of the tub
whatever it takes amirite?
and now you’re a half-troll
a sexy half-troll, if you do say so yourself
yeah, no ‘i’m a monster’ angst here, you’re loving the power-up
you’ve got to treat it like a cool new power-up or you will cry actually tbh i lied about the no-angst thing a new body is disorienting
your only real concern is douxie
not concerned for long tho, he sees you and the first thing out of his mouth is “nuclear!”
and he senses your concern, so he does go out of his way to assure you that boy, girl, enby, or half-troll, he loves you for your soul, darling
also again half-troll! you is hot as hell so he’s not really losing anything here 👀
he makes sure you know that too, not to let any insecurities fester
him raking his eyes up and down you gives the opposite effect of the dread merlin sent down your spine doing it
anyways,,,
doux helps out a lot more in the eternal night
like helps merlin re-defeat and re-seal morgana
he’ll do it again in few weeks but with a bigger role you know, this is practice
thank merlin for that edge YOU ARE THE LAST TROLLHUNTER YOU ARE VICTORIOUS YOUVE GOT GUNMARS HEAD IN YOUR HANDS HAHAHA
but now you’ve got to go to new jersey
douxie’s been instructed to stay in arcadia tho 🥺
it’s okay, you’ll see each other again soon
sooner than you realize
and until then you talk each other to sleep every night over the phone <3
merlins glad, actually. he’s glad hisirdoux found some solace. even if it is with the lamb he was raising for the slaughter. maybe things will go okay for them. the time map suggests it might be so
hisirdoux may have done things in a way he didn’t quite approve of, but that’s because he’s becoming his own wizard, and merlin is proud
#okay okay i’m done#see you in wizards#douxie x reader#hisirdoux casperan x reader#tales of arcadia x reader#tales of arcadia imagine#douxie imagine#hisirdoux casperan imagine#hisirdoux casperan#douxie#douxie casperan x reader#tales of arcadia#my writing
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2020 in review: kdramas (the heart fluttering, the disappointing, the saviors of 2020)
it’s december 31st! the new year is quite literally upon us (some of y’all are already in 2021) and my procrastinating self has chosen to upload this today. i’ve always loved these rec lists and I wanted to do one for 2020! this year was a rollercoaster for kdramas with some excellent ones and some not so excellent ones. i watched all of these in 2020 but not all of them were released in 2020.
if you want to use my questions to make your own list please do!! or give your favs in the tags, i’d love to read them. (fair warning, some of these have multiple answers bc i just can’t choose one!!)
drama that made me laugh
When The Camellia Blooms (2019)
i finally got around to watching when the camellia blooms this year and it. was. so. funny. oh my goodness, the comedic timing in so many scenes was pure excellency and im kinda mad at myself that i didn’t watch this last year. this isn’t just a comedy for those who are interested, its a thriller/romance but its also so fucking funny. definitely watch this if you want to laugh (and be touched bc the emotional scenes in this one are beautiful)
drama that made me cry
Sweet Home (2020)
hahah….. um this one is gonna go to sweet home friends. i went into this one with zero expectations and the first couple episodes didn’t really wow me? but i kept watching and holy shit fam. this show really picks up story-wise around ep 4 and makes the viewer love a lot of these initially unlikable characters. all i can say is that the end was devastating for me and i cried quite a bit. (warning, there are a lot of mature themes in this one so make sure you look for trigger warnings or send me an ask and i’ll list them all out for you)
best OST
Itaewon Class (2020)
i loved the ost for itaewon class!! the music is just so inspirational and pump up music, its so good. my favorites are ‘you make me back’ by woosung and ‘start’ by gaho.
drama with chemistry royalty (aka the best couple)
i have three for this one because i just cannot choose one.
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020)
we recognize this one as one of the best things to come out of 2020. go moon young and moon kang tae have some of the best chemistry i have ever seen in a drama couple. i waited on the edge of my seat every single week for the next couple of episode just so i could fawn over these two. they work so well together, lift each other up, and so fucking funny together and support one another. while they’re not the chillest couple (lmao) they’re most certainly one with the most personality. they’re so cute and bicker and they just get each other. who could ask for more.
Flower of Evil (2020)
our badass mom and dad 😭😭. this was another peak drama that came out this year and our married partners-in-crime-but-not-really had amazing chemistry. baek hee sung and cha ji won were so cute as a married couple but they were even more precious later on in the drama after certain things unfolded (no spoilers). they both just get each other and protected one another as well as on the most precious kdrama children this year, their daughter eunha. they were so wholesome, flower of evil is so very worth a watch.
Into The Ring (2020)
this was one of the more underappreciated kdramas of the year but hoo buddy was the main couples chemistry top notch. they were so friggin cute and i just couldn’t. goo se ra is highkey one of the best female characters i’ve ever seen, she’s absolute chaos, lawful chaos, but chaos nonetheless. her other half, seo gong myung is opposite from her as lawful neutral. he’s just along for the ride that is se ra and loves her. they’re both so very fond and protective of each other and back each other up!! very very cute and you’ll definitely replay more than a couple of their scenes together.
most disappointing
Record of Youth (2020)
it’s sad but true… i went into this one with so much hope and excitement (i was riding off that ‘psycho but its okay’ high) and i was vastly disappointed. the plot mostly focused on the male lead, and there wasn’t much characterization for the female lead which i didn’t like. honestly, i only cared about maybe 3-4? characters in the whole drama. the rest were absolutely terrible or plain boring and i ended up skipping eps 14 and 15 and just watched the finale. i would not recommend tbh.
drama you can’t really get through
Crash Landing on You (2019)
this one is absolutely on me, i want so badly to love this one. but i just… can’t seem to get past ep 2? i’ve tried!! i swear, but i just cannot get through it. maybe in 2021, i can try again and i’ll enjoy it more.
drama everyone else liked but was meh
Kairos (2020)
i though kairos was a bit predictable tbh. i know those of us who did end up watching it really liked it but maybe its because i watch so many crime/mystery shows that this one didn’t really do it for me. the writing is quite solid and everything connects well, i would recommend that those who don’t really watch thrillers, to watch this one. (also the friendship between the female lead and her two friends is suuuper cute and worth it alone to watch kairos)
favorite romance
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020)
yeah… this one wins again lol. what can i say, i just loved it so much and the main theme of the show is romance (its also a comedy and a mental health/healing drama) all i can say is watch this if you haven’t yet, its definitely worth it!!
favorite mystery
Memorist (2020) & Watcher (2019)
i really enjoyed these two mystery dramas. both were super fun to watch and very kinda unique in their own ways. i liked memorist because it was lowkey funny and i liked the relationships between the characters, but most importantly i couldn’t guess the main antagonist by the end! i really thought i knew who it was and then i was completely wrong lmao. watcher was also very good, the main trio had really good chemistry and i really cared about all the characters. (also i’ll never say no to watching seo kang joon) plus the plot twists threw me a bit at the end which is always a feeling i welcome, i love being surprised and wrong (as long as it makes sense)
favorite slice of life
Hospital Playlist (2020)
oh my goodness, i was late to the hospital playlist party and i regret it because this show is so. so. good. its just a slice of life following 5 friends who are doctors and work at the same hospital together but its so much more than that. this is honestly one of the first shows i’ve seen that are optimistic? in the show, every time i thought a plot was going to play out a certain way (usually negatively, as tends to be life unfortunately) it surprised me by taking the more optimistic wholesome route. characters in subplots changed for the better, became more understanding, chose to do the right thing, etc. if you want a feel good drama where the main characters have wonderful platonic chemistry and just care about each other but is also super funny, watch hospital playlist!! (season 2 is coming out early 2021 and im so pumped)
favorite fantasy
The Untamed (2019)
this one is a cdrama but i watched it in 2020, mostly because of how many people on the internet were adamant that the rest of us watch this and ngl they were v right. the untamed was very very good and im really glad i gave it a chance and watched it, its also my first cdrama ever. the chemistry between the male leads is honestly what makes this show and its worth the 50? i think? episodes. to be completely honest the fanfiction for the show are peak and if you do watch this, go straight to ao3 and you will not be disappointed.
dramas that saved 2020
The Uncanny Counter (2020) & Run On (2020)
these two dramas are among those that started airing at the end of the year and will go into the beginning of 2021 and absolutely saved the end of 2020 for me. while neither of these are finished, both have been excellent so far and worth starting. uncanny counter has the best use of the found family trope i have ever seen. i fucking love the four counters and their relationship with each other, how protective they are of one another. they all have amazing chemistry and the actors have amazing chemistry in the making films.
run on has one of the cutest couples that will definitely make my best chemistry list for next year. i didn’t put them on this list bc they actually haven’t gotten together yet but once they do, they’re gonna be freaking adorable, i can already tell. there’s no specific grand events propelling the plot forward, but just following the lives of these unique, interesting and relatable people who have casual yet entertaining conversations with each other. the show is super soft and the main couple are so straightforward and honest (plus theres mutual pining!!)
best dramas of the year
here are my best dramas (and one movie) watched this year, no further explanation given lolol. just watch them and enjoy because these are fucking excellent in the feels department. trust me 💞
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020)
Flower of Evil (2020)
Itaewon Class (2020)
Hospital Playlist (2020)
One Spring Night (2019)
Midnight Runners (2017)
Hot Stove League (2019)
I hope this gives you some fun stuff to watch!! or convince you to start that drama in your watchlists!
#kdrama#kdrama 2020#kdrama recs#kdrama recommendations#when the camellia blooms#sweet home#itaewon class#Its okay to not be okay#psycho but it's okay#flower of evil#into the ring#memorials#the ballot#record of youth#kairos#memorist#watcher#hospital playlist#the untamed#the uncanny counter#jtbc run on#run on#one spring night#midnight runners#hot stove league#best of 2020#ocn watcher#cocogukkie recommends
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Hi! Can I get a R6S matchup please? I’ve always wanted one! (If you’re still doing them) I prefer they/them but I accept she/her.
I’m tall-ish, blonde with an under shave and kinda athletic/curvy build. I like working out and being active (weightlifting, archery, hiking). Im a historian and although I love all history I have a niche interest in things like arms and armour, art history, medieval history and the world wars. I’ve got kinda an edgy style and I like horror movies and metal music and video games. But I have a softer side that likes baking and fashion. I don’t trust easily and I can come off as pretty aloof but once I make a friend I’m very dedicated to them (I cook for them and look out for them. A tired mom/dad friend). Im pretty independent and the type of friend that disappears from time to time and comes back like nothing happened. I’m pretty sarcastic and opinionated when you really get me talking. I’m a cynic and I can I can be a little dark and jaded but I appreciate people who are happy and sweet. I’d rather chill with a small group of people and have a deep conversation or play some games than, like, go to big party or a bar. Anyway thank you and I’d prefer a male character (can include nsfw if you want! 🖤)
I’ll always be doing them they’re so fun. hope you enjoy!
I match you with Kapkan!
Maxim doesn’t know what drew him to you. perhaps it was your mutual love of outdoorsy stuff or just your vibe in general. Either way, he’s glad he went out of his way to get to know you even if he felt a bit awkward doing it.
He’s also pretty edgy and intense according to his friends. Alexsandr jokes about how y’all are ‘made for each other’ when he hears you guys engaging in conversation, something that makes Maxim grumble and roll his eyes but he doesn’t mind the thought of having someone around who gets him.
You’re interested in arms? So is Maxim. He’s more than happy to show you his collection even if he’s a little standoffish at first. He’s used to people finding him weird because of his love for blades so he’s kind of waiting for your negative reaction. He’s glad when it doesn’t happen and you ask questions instead of calling him a serial killer lmao.
Even happier should you ask about his traps. He’ll go off on a long, excited explanation on how they work and showing you how they’re used. Gets a little embarrassed at how much he talks but neither of you mention it. Tries getting you to tick and tell him about things you like. He likes trying to figure everything out about you.
He’s more indirectly affectionate and shows his appreciation through his actions and words rather than physically. He’ll send you lengthy texts about how much he likes you/your company/etc if he’s been gone for long periods or thinks he’s been a little neglectful. If you’re being pestered by Alexsandr to go get hammered at a bar he’ll stand up for you.
If you bake something for him, he’ll consider buying a ring. He’s weak for baked goods especially if they’re for him only
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girl you just refuse to interact in good faith with any points sb raises. a dozen people have told you that yeah white men are bad and yeah shit is not easy for women in the west either. but that doesn't mean women should just shut up about their experiences with muslim men, many of who will treat any non muslim women as whores. that's not even just white women ffs. i don't know what your deal is with white women anyway but you conveniently forget that half of europe has a history of sexual slavery and war rape while under muslim (ottoman) rule. just like women who have been colonized by western powers and have been disproportionately affected by european men's violence have every reason to not trust white men so do many "white" women from countries under muslim rule when it comes to muslim men
this is so stupid,,, yes and also lots of us have a history being colonised by the Ottoman Empire too??? hello??? and on top of that being colonised by various European countries??? and women in our lands being oppressed by European men??? like. what kinda stupid argument is that. “the Ottoman Empire partook in sexual slavery centuries ago which means racism against MENA people is ok 😤” as if almost all of us weren’t also under their rule lmao 😐 as if they didnt also enslave african & north african women, women from the demographics you guys keep talking shit about.
as for the rest, the fact that u wanna claim bad faith when u guys are the ones who think speaking on ur experiences and being racist can’t be mutually exclusive. i somehow managed to talk plenty of what ive faced from men both muslim & non-muslim without making racist white supremacist arguments about white supremacy and crying about how people of certain races are more criminal / more prone to rape / more violent etc. another thing thats “bad faith” is the fact that u freaks literally switch goalposts and lie about what woc have said about the racism u spew and even say we’re getting in the way of class consciousness. it’s not hard to talk about these things and criticise them without being a white nationalist. it really isn’t. a lot of us have done it and have been doing it for years. y’all love using us as ur tokens when u wanna act like ur feminism isn’t white or western but when we speak up against racism suddenly we’re insane and dramatic or whatever. hypocrites & liars tbh.
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do you realize how much damage you're doing to other minors saying you're "special" to nsfw blogs lmao not like being "special" is a term groomers use
.... okay let’s talk about this
first you know what the crazy thing is? nowhere did i say i was special— i said i was an exception when it comes to some blogs because that’s literally my case; not that i’m “special”, when you put it in those terms that doesn’t sound pleasing to the ears lmao
there’s some factors that play into me being able to interact with certain blogs, it’s not solely because i am a minor and i’m “special”, so let’s go over them shall we?
first let’s talk about the fact that some mutuals i do interact with know me personally, for example take @murmikaa ; we facetime, text all the time, and we’re both writers, she knows me personally and i know her, so she feels comfortable enough for me to be on her blog— compare me to some random ass minor that happens to be on her blog... see the difference? bc if you don’t idk what to tell you friend
in knowing me personally they know how mature i am, they know what i can handle and they know what i can’t— and regarding that let’s not fail to mention the fact that i write smut myself (and i’m damn good at it if i do say so myself), i write content in general, which a lot of minors don’t do, so it’s kind of like a writer to writer heart to heart kind of thing if you want to put it that way
there are many of my mutuals that i don’t interact with their nsfw content because they are 18+ blogs and i don’t know them personally so i’m not gonna bend their rules and make myself an exception and— let me use your word real quick— make myself special, because in their lives, i’m not special! just another blog!
there are many blogs that are strictly 18+ and like my content but i don’t follow them back because guess what? they are strictly 18+ and guess what i do? follow that rule because i’m not nobody to them, unless they wanna make me somebody
you ever had an older cousin let you hang out with them and their friends because thats your cousin, they know you, and y’all are cool like that? think of it like that if my explanation was too hard for you to understand
also, if you search up the definition of grooming;
“Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them. Children and young people who are groomed can be sexually abused, exploited or trafficked.”
.......... if we’re reading the same thing, i don’t believe i’m being groomed, especially when i’m not that far apart in age for most of my moots that let me interact with their nsfw content lmao
and for the moots that do if you’re trying to groom me pls lmk rn😔
anyways have a lovely day
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