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written-in-flowers · 7 months

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Be the Light: Pt. 1 (SeongjoongxReader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.

Word Count: 7k

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

AU: historical!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed

And thank you so much @daesukiii for beta reading this fic!! It's well appreciated!💕💕

Part 2 >

***

"YN!"

You heard her howl your name from down the hall. The sound of her voice made you quicken your pace, a streak of panic striking through you.

"YN! YN, where are you?!”

Her voice sent ice cold water through your veins. You’d left her alone with the others for only a moment. What could possibly have happened in the span of five minutes? A slew of scenarios ranging in severity ran through your mind. Somebody brushed her hair too hard. Somebody smeared her lip paint. Somebody said the wrong thing or the right thing but in the wrong way. You preferred not thinking of what she’d done to that person.

“YN!”

You walked through the wooden hallway, keeping your head down to not draw much attention to yourself. A habit, you supposed, that you’d learned since being her handmaiden. Finally reaching her room, you gave the guard outside a single glance and he slid the door open for you.

“She’s in a mood today,” he told you gruffly. “You’d think after the night she had, she’d be more docile.”

“She’s never docile,” you replied. “I’ll handle her.”

“As always.”

You didn’t find her in the front room of her apartments, where servants put out her morning tea and breakfast spread. Walking past the red and cream colored couches, with their low wooden tables, you moved past more servants cleaning the window frames and floors spotless. You opened the doors leading into her bedroom. Two maids in plain hanboks changed her bed sheets and fluffed her pillows. They gave you both a concerned look, which you replied to with a nod.

“YN!”

“Your Majesty, I am here. What is your command?”

Sookmyung stood on a platform in the middle of her dressing room. Four girls dressed in white hanboks kept their heads down and hands clasped together, a sign of their subservience to the woman. Queen Han Sookmyung only wore the emerald skirt of her hanbok, her long black hair unbraided and falling down her back, and you saw the issue immediately. The top layer of her gown laid on the floor at her feet, a bundle of more emerald cloth bordered with golden vines.

“My command is that I want these imbeciles out of my sight!” she screeched, stamping her foot on the platform. “I told this one to bring the blue and gold one. She brought the green and gold!”

“A simple mistake, Your Majesty, I am sure,” you said calmly, walking further into the room. “Aro,” you turned to one of the handmaidens nearest you, “Please bring Her Majesty the dark blue and gold dress. It’s in the fourth box on the second shelf.” She bowed to you, then briskly left for the closet in the other room.

“YN, send them away. I cannot stand looking at them any longer.”

“You are all dismissed for now.”

The remaining handmaidens bowed, then left the room without a word. You moved over to her and began untying the skirt from her torso. Discontent still read on Sookmyung’s thin, oval face. Once the young queen flew into one of her rages, it was difficult to bring her back down. It was why you instructed the handmaidens to do as she said down to the last word. It saved everyone lots of trouble.

When you gingerly removed the skirt, leaving her in the underskirt and undergarments, you saw yourself in the long mirror. Your white dress nearly blended in with the brightly colored room around you. Like all female monarchs, she surrounded herself with handmaidens. The distinction was Sookmyung demanded her female servants be virgins, who all wore white to make Sookmyung stand out against them. Being the eldest of her handmaidens, a companion since childhood, your uniform differed in the red ribbon keeping your top half closed. Yet, even then you mustn’t draw too much attention to yourself. How can The Queen shine if her servants looked more beautiful than her?

“They’re such simpletons,” she grunted. “I do not know what is so difficult. How can one possibly confuse blue with green?”

“I am certain she misheard you, Your Majesty.” Deflect her displeasure. You glanced over to the vanity where someone laid out her jewelry. They’d chosen the dangling gold earrings and matching hair ornaments. “Look at this set, Your Majesty,” you gave a soft gasp, walking over to the jewelry, “These earrings are absolutely divine! Are they not?”

“They are fine enough,” she replied haughtily. “At least the fool chose something that matches.”

“Indeed,” you agreed. “I am surprised she had any fashion sense at all, to be honest.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she sneered, flipping a loose strand of hair from her shoulder. “Send the idiot away when she returns. You will dress me today.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

When the girl returned, you took the long, flat box and dismissed her quietly. Not a sound. Not a whisper or a mumble. That was how servants communicated: discreetly and hurriedly. With everyone gone, only you two remained. You began unwrapping the separate pieces of Sookmyung’s dress from the box. The blue skirt remained plain, while golden dragons interweaved around her shoulders and along the middle of the top. The gold paint shined whenever she moved her torso, and the voluminous skirt gave an illusion of gliding instead of walking.

“I am taking visitors today,” she mused as you began brushing her hair. You took care not to let the brush snag in her waist-length strands. The ring on her finger looked like it’d cut your cheek. “Merchants and common people.”

“Your people wish to speak with you, Your Majesty,” you replied, pulling back her hair to start braiding. “They seek your wisdom and guidance.”

“As they should,” she said, admiring the golden ring on her finger. “I am their queen. They need to heed my words and obey them.”

You would’ve told her that giving advice and giving commands are different things, but you knew better.

After many failed pregnancies, King Siwon and Queen Jisoo finally produced a child in their fourth year. Sookmyung became her father’s sole heir to the throne. Being the only heir, the king groomed his daughter for rule. You wanted to say that Sookmyung ignored her lessons and took no interest in them, but that is far from the truth. Sookmyung devoured her father’s wise council and listened attentively at his elbow. She followed the master at arms around the training yard, learning how to use a sword and bow. She spent time in the stables learning how to tame and ride horses. Everyone hoped her eagerness meant she’d be a good and capable queen, but you knew better. Unlike the king’s council, you knew why Sookmyung took to the idea of ruling the kingdom so quickly.

There’d be nobody to stop her.

“I heard Kim Haneul wishes to propose to you,” you said, hoping the gossip keeps her occupied. You styled her hair up from her face to accentuate her facial features and long neck, sliding bejeweled pins to keep it in place. “He has had his eye on you for a long time.”

“Which one is he again?” she asked, stumped. “He isn’t the fat one, is he?”

“No, Your Majesty,” you faked an amused giggle. You grabbed her eoyeo meori, the circular wig with its golden adornments. Placing it as a halo around her head before pinning it in place, you continued. “That is Advisor Heechul’s son. Haneul is the son of the new Duke of Daegu. He’s that handsome one who won your archery contest at last year’s harvest festival. I heard from some of the maids that he favors you highly.”

“Of course he does,” she scoffed, double checking the work you’d done. “I’m a queen. He’s a common nobleman.”

“Yes, he is,” you nodded, “But he will approach you nevertheless, Your Majesty.”

“Who told you this nonsense?”

“One of the kitchen hands,” you told her, picking up a powder box from the vanity. “She said she overheard it from Haneul and one of his companions. I thought I’d tell you to prepare you for it should he ask today.” You then added, “I know how much you dislike surprises. I’d hate for him to spring it on you, and you be flustered in making a decision.”

“Yes, I do despise it.” She kept herself still as you began lightly applying powder to her face. “Haneul…Haneul…You say he’s the handsome archer from last year?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Hm, must not be remarkable if I did not collect him already,” she mused. A small smile crossed her face, “Have you seen my flowers today, YN?”

“I haven’t,” you answered honestly. “You know as well as I that no one is permitted in your garden.”

“Oh, my beautiful flowers,” she sighed softly. “They bring me such comfort.”

You saw her eyes glaze over as they did when she spoke of Them. Those at court called them ‘The Golden Ones’, but Sookmyung called them her ‘flowers’. You pondered on the men while you finished painting her lips. Upon his death, king Siwon had twenty-five concubines living in the “private gardens” near the king’s quarters. Sookmyung dismissed them all the morning after his death, determined to fill it with concubines of her own. You and her advisors told her queens did not usually take male concubines, since she is meant to marry and produce children. Sookmyung ignored all of you. During her war campaign across the country, she searched for handsome men to bring into her harem. Yet, with all things, she was picky. Her concubines needed to be ethereal beauties; they needed to be trophies that would make her the envy of the court. She eventually found them, imprisoned them, and then put them in the gardens to do what she pleased.

Sookmyung currently has eight concubines. No doubt should another war arise, she will steal more sons.

“Tell the guard to bring my flowers to the throne room today,” she said, admiring herself in the mirror when you finished. “I wish for them to be there. They do bring me relief on days like today.”

“At once, Your Majesty.” You picked up a purple perfume box, but Sookmyung shook her head.

“No, not jasmine. Hongjoong detests jasmine scents.”

‘He does not. It’s you he detests.’

“Then will you prefer the lavender or the rose perfume?”

“Lavender. It has such a calming effect on him,” she said when you started dabbing the scent on her neck and wrists. “My fiery blossom. I know he will be furious if that fool Haneul comes forward. His jealousy is only outmatched by my own, I’m afraid.”

“Well, seeing other men fawn over you must make him believe your love for him will wane and disappear,” a male voice said from somewhere behind you. “We cannot fault him for his emotions.”

You turned your head to see an old man walk into the room. His salt-and-pepper hair cut short, he’d left his thin mustache and beard growing past throat to his chest. Wrinkled by age, Senior Advisor Choi Wonshik served the royal family since Sookmyung’s grandfather’s time. In the red robes of a first rank advisor, he walked further into the room. He smiled at Sookmyung, giving her a slight bow as their eyes met.

“Senior Advisor,” Sookmyung said, looking back at herself, “What brings you here?”

“I came to see if you’d be joining us in the throne hall for petitions this morning,” he asked. “The other advisors and I believe it will show the people an image of concern if you are seen on your father’s throne-”

“-You mean my throne,” she cut him off. “I am the queen.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” he smiled, giving a nod of the head, “Old habits die hard.”

“Or easily,” you heard her mutter. “But, yes I will be there today. Tell the other officials to worry.”

“That is a relief to hear,” he grinned. “We look forward to seeing you there.”

“Mhm-hm.”

His attention turned to you, “Good day, YN.”

“Good day, Senior Advisor,” you gave a slight bow and a smile.

It was the briefest of glances but you noticed it right away. Eyes lined with crows feet looked between you and Sookmyung, with a certain disappointment lingering in them. The expression did not sit right with you, but it was not your place to question. Advisor Choi left, and you and Sookmyung were alone again. He seemed to be filled with words he could not say out loud. Then again, many people did the same. It was Sookmyung’s chuckle that caught your attention.

“The old man likes you,” she cackled. “Out of all the men in the world, it’s the ancient one.”

“He was being polite,” you said to her, cheeks burning from her laughter.

“He doesn’t have to be ‘polite’ to you,” she said. “He outranks you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted you as his concubine. It is disgusting to think about,” she shuddered, “Those knobbly hands on you and those lips. Don’t worry, YN. I won’t let him touch you.”

“That is kind of you, Your Majesty.”

“You must be envious of me, YN. I have my beautiful flowers and you have nobody,” she said thoughtfully, “I spend ages worshiping Seonghwa’s gorgeous body or listening to Jongho sing and you're here all alone. It must be sad."

“It can be, but I hope one day that will change,” you told her. You grabbed the blue overcoat from the box, letting her stand to put it on her. “I may find someone who is patient and clever. The kind of man who treats his lady well and is gracious and kind.” A man such as Seonghwa. But, that was a thought you immediately pushed out.

“Men like that are needles in a haystack. Only I have been fortunate to find such lovely beauties like my flowers,” she said. “Like Hongjoong…”

You followed her out of the bedroom. Hongjoong’s face came to the forefront of your mind. The last of Sookmyung’s flowers, he’d quickly become her favorite. You saw how he fawned over her, and constantly whispered things in her ear that made her giggle. Secretly, you wished it was you he whispered to, but you knew that wouldn’t be. Hongjoong is placed far out of your reach, just like the rest of them. As you followed her out of her room, you bit your lip thinking about the last time she made you stay in their “garden”. Sookmyung took delight in seeing you flustered and squirming when she took one of them. Like all her handmaidens, you’d kept your virginity intact, which she enjoyed teasing you about. But, if you had your pick, you'd have him or Seonghwa. Possibly even both.

Four men dressed in black and red leather armor met you outside her chambers. You whispered the summons to one of them, and he passed it along to one of the guards at the main doors. A wooden palanquin sat at the bottom steps of the residency building, a red awning keeping the sun from hitting Sookmyung as she climbed inside. You, however, stayed on the outside. You eyed the spot beside her, a seat wide enough for you both to fit, but you knew she’d never offer it to you. The queen rides in the palanquin. Her handmaiden walks.

“But you wouldn’t understand anything about that,” Sookmyung giggled as the footmen lifted the litter and the group moved. You walked steadily at her side, making sure to keep yourself in step. Move too slow, and she’ll complain that you’re lagging behind. Move too quickly, and she’ll accuse you of trying to upstage her. “You are unmarried and are still a virgin.”

“That does not mean I cannot love, Your Majesty, or understand how it works,” you replied calmly. You sensed the taunt skirting around her words, and you braced yourself for more. “I see how Hongjoong and the others are when you’re in their presence. It is like seeing heaven on earth. They worship you. They adore you. I think we all can only hope for such love to come into our lives.”

“How sweet,” she pouted, “It must be nice to have such naive and fanciful dreams about love. I’m afraid it is not always so heavenly.” You noticed her face turn sour, “I see how those little harlots in court gawk at them whenever they pass. They see my flowers and sigh over them.” You saw her fold her hands over one another on her lap, “I remember that one idiot who tried seducing my Mingi. She had that pathetic, simpering smile and that obnoxious laugh. Ugh, it was a humiliating display," a wicked smirk came across her face, "But, I put a stop to that all together. You remember that, do you not, YN?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I do.”

Lady Seulgi, a noblewoman draped in expensive adornments, had come to the palace during a birthday celebration. You recall how Sookmyung spotted her eyeing Mingi, one of the concubines, and the jealousy flaring in her eyes. You’d done all you could to convince Sookmyung that she saw nothing; Lady Seulgi happened to look in his direction, that was all. This lie worked for a time, before someone else spotted Lady Seulgi trying to corner Mingi in the palace garden. Sookmyung immediately had Lady Seulgi thrown into the dark, secluded jails in the back of the palace. Walking up the steps of a gate to reach the throne hall, you recall seeing Lady Seulgi removed of her finery and forced into a roughspun tunic. The beautiful, bold lady you’d seen that night became a filthy, frightened creature within days. You tried not remembering the stubs of her missing fingers, or the screams she made when Sookmyung pulled out her toenails one at a time.

‘Make her ugly. Make her so ugly nobody will look at her.’

Nobody heard from Seulgi ever again.

You spotted masses of people filling the wide throne courtyard. Nobles and commoners alike came to petition their problems to the queen, and it created a multi-colored sea of people in the square. Right when the palanquin passed through the gate, a group of soldiers dressed in red and white began playing on either side of the large doors. Two held horns, two banged on drums, one with cymbals, and another held a gong as they walked down the aisle.

“The Queen is entering!” the leader called out in a booming voice, which caught everyone's attention.

The daechwita played as they led the procession towards the throne hall. You kept your eyes to the ground now, making yourself as invisible as possible, and followed the palanquin the entire way. You chanced a glance at Sookmyung, whose eyes danced with pride. This is what she loved. This is why she scorched villages and killed kings. The power that emanated from the people bowing to her seemed to swell in her chest. You pitied anyone who upset her today. They may end up the same way as Lady Seulgi if they’re not careful.

The palanquin reached the throne hall’s platform, and footmen helped Sookmyung out of it. You briskly straightened out the back of her gown, and then stepped out of her way. The throne hall was wide with open windows, lattice walls, and a high decorative ceiling. Before his death, the king sat on the throne of his ancestors before him. A red throne painted with gold dragons, with a folded screen stood behind depicting the sun, moon, and mountains. It took someone three steps to reach the top of the platform, which only gave enough space for the king and two bodyguards to occupy.

When Sookmyung came into power, she expanded on this inch by inch. She rebuilt the throne itself to have a taller back to rest on, and raised the platform a several more steps to open it up. This way, her concubines may sit on the steps in comfort, lounging peacefully on display for the whole court. Nobody said it out loud, but you knew why she wanted them with her. How can she flaunt her victories if the trophies are hidden behind garden walls? It made you sick. She not only desecrated the ancient throne, which for centuries stood as a symbol of dignity, but put her own proudful twist on it as well. You followed her up the steps, and walked right to your place in the shadows of the high dais.

“All hail the Queen!” the singer called out.

“All hail the Queen!” most of the crowd repeated back.

Back in her father’s day, the king would speak to his subjects directly. He’d thank them for traveling to visit him, and begin accepting petitions and propositions. Sookmyung stayed silent, eyeing the crowd, while Senior Advisor Choi stepped in front of the throne.

“Good people, good people,” he called, “It is our queen’s great delight and honor to host you here in her grand throne hall today. She is very interested to hear your thoughts and find solutions for your concerns. May the first of the petitioners step forward, please.”

The first to approach were two men. You took in their haggard appearance: clothes hanging from their skinny frames, worn out shoes on their feet, and their skin tanned from years in the sun. You could tell they must work outdoors, most likely in one of Sookmyung’s rice or spice fields. The taller man spoke up first, fire in his voice already.

“Your Majesty, I have been severely wronged in your great country,” he began. “This man,” he pointed to the person beside him, “Has been extending his land onto mine little by little for several months now!”

“Your Majesty, I have done no such thing! I was merely rebuilding my fences, and happened to accidentally-”

“-Accidentally? Ha, please! Do not try to fool us into believing you do not know where your land ends and mine begins,” his opponent retorted. “You have been rebuilding that fence of yours for quite some time. The stakes from the last rebuild are still in the ground, and they are several feet from where they’d been before.”

“My son has been helping me, Your Majesty,” the man said to Sookmyung. “He is not the brightest of boys, but he is strong and helpful to me in my old age. He must have marked the line wrong-”

“-How despicable! To blame your deception on your own flesh and blood-”

“-I am only providing a possible explanation! Besides, why do you care? It is not as if you tend to your fields regularly or properly. I have seen the grain you grow. It is subpar at best, and inedible at worst. I am the superior farmer, therefore I should have more land…”

“This is so boring,” Sookmyung mumbled loud enough for you to hear. “Who cares about a stupid farm?”

“Their farms are important to them, Your Majesty,” you replied. “It is the only way they can feed themselves and their families.”

“Psh, as if they are now. Look how skinny they are. It’s appalling.”

“Yes, it is.”

Your heart sank hearing the two men describe their feud to one another. You thought of your own solution: You would’ve told them to have an official come and inspect the property lines for them to have an unbiased opinion. You’d pay builders from the city to repair the fence damage and realign it to avoid any more confusion. They would have done that already if they could afford to pay for the help. Sookmyung’s high taxes and the wealthy’s low wages make it difficult for the common folk of the kingdom to live properly. The few times you’d gone into the city for her, you’d seen the way most of them live day-to-day. They’re starving, unable to properly care for themselves or their children, and barely afford to pay their land owners. In their desperation, many of them venture into the Queen’s forest to hunt for food, with hopes of not being caught by guards roaming the perimeters. Others resort to criminal activities, since the slum lords pay much better than their law abiding counterparts. Sookymung’s kingdom fell into poverty because of the grand lifestyle she wished to live and the wars she'd waged. While her people starved, the queen and her elite nobles dined and dressed well. It sickened you to your stomach.

“...Which of them brings in more grain?” Sookmyung asked the senior advisor.

Senior Choi looked to Advisor Park, the master of coin who took care of the kingdom’s finances. It took the middle-aged man a moment, but he eventually found their names and most recent tax payments. The accused paid more in his taxes and supplied more grain than his accuser.

“Then it is clear that he deserves more land than this one,” Sookmyung told Choi. “Why give land to a man who cannot contribute to the prosperity of his kingdom and his queen?”

Choi stared up at her, but he did not look as dumbfounded as his fellow advisors. For the briefest moment, you caught disdain in his dark eyes. Nevertheless, he turned away and addressed the men.

“Then it is clear that…that he deserves more land than this one,” you heard him repeat stoically. “Why give land to a man who cannot contribute to the prosperity of his kingdom and his queen?”

“B-B-But, Your Majesty, my family has owned that farm for many years,” he said imploringly. “It is not right!”

“Perhaps his family should find a new venture and stop wasting my time", Sookmyung huffed. “The man will keep his fence where it is, and you will accept my decision.”

Choi repeated her words verbatim, and the man’s jaw dropped. “Your Majesty-”

“-Next,” she dismissed him through Choi.

Both men were forced to the side by guards. Right as the next person came up, drums and horns suddenly rang throughout the large hall. Sookmyung’s eyes lit up and she beamed at the people entering the room.

“Her Majesty’s concubines approach!” the leader said. “Make way for The Golden Ones! Make way!”

Surrounded by four guards dressed in all black armor walked a group of eight men.

As always, Sookmyung’s concubines wore their black and gold hanboks: Their overcoats of black silk covered most of their body, the wide sleeves ending far past their fingers. Glimmering stones weaved into the intricate floral patterns of their golden sashes, matching the hair pins and jewelry they wore. What separated them the most were their veils. Thin veils hanging from their ears hung to their chests, the sheer fabric dotted with gold pieces to hide their features. Only you and Sookmyung ever saw their faces unmasked. She said the less they revealed of themselves, the less likely anybody would desire them.

A complete and utter lie, in your opinion.

“My beautiful flowers,” she smiled, eyes full of fondness. “So wonderful to see you early in the morning,” she watched them walk up the steps to their assigned seats on the steps.

The farthest was Jongho, who sat on the third step from the bottom, lounging back with one elbow on the step above him. The youngest of her flowers, he kept his black hair in a braid that was woven with gold bands. Formerly an innkeeper’s son, Sookmyung stole him from his family during the end of her campaign. You never forgot how Sookmyung viciously beat the old woman who begged her not to take him; how Jongho did not stop crying the entire way back to the capital.

“Your braid looks lovely today, Jongho,” Sookmyung admired, looking over his round, soft features from afar.

“I am glad you think so, Mistress,” he said, “I added the jewels especially for you.”

“I’m wearing the hair band you gifted me, Mistress,” said a slender boy sitting just above him.

Wooyoung. The son of the Duke of Pyongyang, the siege of his city took Sookmyung only a few days. She often boasted about how their forces retreated from her men like mice. As with the other kingdoms, she gifted the seat of House Jung to one of her allies, and took the duke’s son for herself. Wooyoung fled into the woods, being hunted by Sookmyung and her pack of dogs for several days before being found and dragged to camp. You preferred not thinking about what Sookmyung did to break him.

You noticed the young man winced when he moved to face her. From what you’d gathered, Sookmyung visited his chambers the previous night. Whatever she’d done left him sore and holding back whimpers of pain. The tenderness inside you wished to reach out for him. You wished to comfort and assure him that his pain will subside soon. His wounds will heal and he will be fine. But, how ‘fine’ is he when Sookmyung owns him?

“It looks lovely on you, darling,” Sookmyung said. Another peasant was brought before her, but she ignored him. “You were magnificent last night. You and San both.”

San, muscular and broad, sat across from Wooyoung. Thin eyes flickered with hate before changing to pure seduction. “As were you, Mistress.”

Choi San used to be a soldier in Sookymung’s army. His father, General Choi, was a general who commanded a large portion of her forces. One day, when his battalion was overpowered and forced to retreat, Sookmyung took this failure as a sign of weakness. It inflamed her burning rage, and Sookmyung sentenced the man to a brutal death: being beaten with clubs by his own lieutenants. San was forced to watch the entire thing. From what you’d heard, he still woke up screaming for his father to run.

“Mistress, I’m sleepy,” said the man sitting above San and Wooyoung. Long-limbed with sleek brown hair, he gave an audible yawn and stretched. “I sleep so lightly without you beside me.”

Another sweet lie to fill her head with dreams. Sookmyung’s war took her all over the country, and this meant bypassing several inns and small villages. When attacking Haeju, Sookmyung camped outside a small fishing village right on the west coast. There, she found plenty of provisions and ship builders to repair the damaged fleet. With them came a tall, lean young man with brown hair and a precious smile. Song Mingi. You’d originally thought Sookmyung took Mingi for a fleeting fancy, but when she told him that he’d be joining the other men she’d dragged with her, he naturally refused. It wasn’t until Sookmyung threatened to kill his entire family that he went with her.

Sookmyung burnt down his whole village, ultimately murdering his family anyways.

“Perhaps I may remedy that tonight, lovely,” she replied, smirking at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t want my Mingi to collapse from lack of proper rest.”

“Then what of me, Mistress?” a wide-eyed young man said on the other side. “You said you’d be with me.”

Dainty and petite, Kang Yeosang was also nobility. While not high in rank, his family did supply the opposition with food and resources throughout the war. Sookmyung created the strategy to hit them at their source, which included raiding baggage supply trains moving through the country. Yeosang led one such train, and while his men fought valiantly, they were defeated. Yeosang, having an angelic look to him with doe-like eyes, became another addition to her growing harem. She promised he’d go home if his family surrendered their land and resources to her, so Yeosang agreed. But, Yeosang never went home. It took him a short time to realize that Sookmyung never planned on ransoming him. When he heard her forces invaded his home, slaughtered his family, and claimed it in her name, he knew he’d never see home again.

“You can join us then, Yeosangie,” she cooed.

A peasant woman holding a baby in a blanket came forward, tearful and pleading for her child’s life. Sookmyung hardly listened to her as she addressed the man next to Yeosang: Yunho. Equally as tall as Mingi, he kept his black in a top knot with a black band around his forehead. A servant placed a bowl of grapes in front of him, but he did not eat them. He could never eat with Sookmyung around. She disgusted him to the point of losing his appetite.

“Yunho, are you not hungry?”

“I had a large breakfast, Mistress.”

He turned his head to answer her, then back to the woman standing before him. She sobbed about how a group of men ransacked her home, taking everything she owned and leaving her with nothing but her life. You saw the pity in his puppy-dog eyes. He dug into the pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a velvet coin purse. You knew that Yunho sometimes secretly slipped silver or gold coins to the servants when possible.

“Here,” Yunho walked down the steps to her, “For your and your child.”

“S-Sir…” she wept, looking at the large sum in her hand, “I…I cannot…” she glanced at Sookmyung, who glared. “I cannot accept this-”

“-I insist,” Yunho said, not reaching or touching her. It’d put a mark on her back for certain. “You need it more than me.”

“Thank you,” she cried, “Thank you, sir.”

“Isn’t my Yunho generous?” Sookmyung said, though her grin did not reach her ears. “He is always thinking of others.”

“It is why you noticed me, Mistress, is it not?”

He came back to his seat and your eyes briefly met his. Yunho, not of noble birth, lived in a farming village before outlaws came and raided them. By the time Sookmyung arrived, several villagers either died or were grievously injured. Being the son of the town physician, Yunho tended to several of the children, frightened and wounded from the bandits. Sookmyung not only found it endearing, but saw Yunho’s apparent handsomeness. She promised he’d be her personal physician’s apprentice, learning at the elbow of the finest in the kingdom. He only needed to travel with her for a few days. But, when she placed him in the harem tent with the others, he realized what his role would truly be. It is only fortunate that Yunho is able to tend to whatever wounds the concubines suffer at Sookmyung’s hands.

“It is,” she nodded. “You’re just as sweet as my Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa sat on a cushion a step right beneath Sookmyung. The eldest of the Golden Ones, his sharp jawline and full lips enchanted Sookmyung right away. Son of an advisor to another king, he’d attempted to trade his life for his younger brother, whom she’d gifted to a group of loyalists during her victory celebration. Unfortunately, this did not work. His younger brother was carried off by the men while Seonghwa was dragged to her new chambers. From what you know, Seonghwa hasn’t seen his brother since then.

His father having been a notable advisor, Senior Advisor Choi has often sought him out for counsel and opinion. You supposed this intelligence is why he’d managed to last so long. He gave her a dashing smile, and spoke in his deep voice.

“But nobody is as sweet as you, Mistress,” he licked his lips, “Nobody certainly tastes as sweet either.”

“Seonghwa,” she flipped open her fan and gave it to you to fan her, “You always know what to say.”

Her eyes then landed on the concubine sitting on her left, elbow on the arm of the throne and appearing bored. Black hair tied back in a ponytail, Sookmyung gifted him with a red headband to wear around his head. Embroidered flowers in the center, this symbol of Sookmyung’s favoritism set him apart from the others. You’re sure that the reason she favored him so highly is not only his handsomeness, but the fact that he’d been a true prince. Hongjoong, Crowned Prince of Wonju.

Wonju was a peaceful, plentiful kingdom that remained its own nation after the Han clan took over the country. Somewhere far off in the east, you remember the mountain ranges that surrounded the area, high and steep so that very few enemies could pass. It’d been ruled over by the Kim clan, with King Hyungshik at the head. A king in his own right, it was peace terms with the Hans that prevented open warfare. You’d always understood both nations to live side-by-side in harmony. Then Sookmyung became queen, and she could not have another monarch in her country.

But, Wonju did not fall to Sookmyung as easily. Several bloody and fierce battles were found on land and sea, ripping the two nations apart in the process. Several kingdoms sided with Wonju, but they’d been overpowered by the queen’s men. Sookmyung’s triumph over Wonju became a lasting highlight of her conquest. She’d taken Hongjoong as a further stab to those who’d rebel and oppose her. To her, he is her biggest trophy.

“Mistress, please let us be done with this riff-raff,” Hongjoong drawled, “And entertain ourselves elsewhere. This business bores me to tears.”

Yet, even after the death of their royal family, the people of Wonju oppose Sookmyung and the man she put in charge of them. Many resistance fighters her armies capture are from Wonju. You wondered at what point did they stop trying to rescue Hongjoong and focus their efforts on usurping Sookmyung. You knew he hated Sookmyung, regardless of what he said to the contrary. You’d hate her too if you were him. But, Hongjoong had secrets of his own.

You’d never tell anyone about the woman you’d seen him meeting at night.

“It is part of my duty as queen, blossom,” she told him, lifting his chin to make him look at her. “Advisor Choi insists I perform my responsibilities as ruler, but the only thing I ever wish to do is be in your arms and in your bed.”

“Then leave these filthy peasants, love,” he took the hand on his chin and held it gently, “And let me admire my queen as a loyal subject should.”

“Hongjoongie…” she breathed,

“Please, Mistress,” he put a yearning into his seductive tone, “It has been so long since you have visited my chambers. You’re always with the others and never with me,” he put a hand on her knee and knelt. You heard him whisper something obscene in her ear, which made her giggle. “…It grows harder in every thought. Do not leave me wanting, Mistress, please. It aches for you…”

This is what Sookmyung wanted: a concubine who professes nothing but undying desire for her. Sookmyung could never truly love anyone, regardless of what she said. Hongjoong knew this, and you admired his tact. It is better to make her believe he needed her than to show his true feelings. You wondered if he thought of the other woman when he said these words. You knew he'd never think of you.

You saw them after a celebration for Sookmyung’s five-year-reign as queen. You finished helping her into bed and took the shortcut back to the servant’s quarters to rest your tired feet. Cutting through the concubine gardens, you’d heard hushed voices through a hedge. You thought nothing of it at the time, since you thought it must’ve been the wind or an animal nearby. Yet, you then heard the high voice of Kim Hongjoong, followed by another voice. A woman’s voice. Curiosity and shock got the better of you, and you peeked through the high hedge to see their figures in the shadows of the trees. You couldn’t tell what they’d done, since they hid themselves behind dense thickets of shrubbery, but it did not take much to wonder. You never saw the woman, so you guessed she’d gone over the garden wall, but you did see Hongjoong. It did not take a genius to figure out what he’d done. You swore yourself to secrecy; you told yourself that revealing this secret of his to anyone meant death.

“Alright,” she pouted, “I can never say no to this beautiful face of yours…”

“Or my tongue,” he added softly, putting his face inches from hers but never kissing. The veil acted as a barrier that drove her nuts. “Seonghwa will join us, if you wish. He enjoys you just as much as I do. Isn’t that so, Brother?”

“It is,” Seonghwa nodded, but did not approach her.

Your eyes met Hongjoong’s. You wished you could thank him. With Sookmyung occupied with him and his “brothers”, you could see your mother, whom you haven’t seen for two nights. You may even see Queen Jisoo, Sookmyung’s mother.

“We’re done for today,” Sookmyung told Choi, who nodded stiffly. “Come, flowers.”

One by one they followed her down the steps, and you trailed behind them. Everyone bowed their heads as she walked by, but you couldn’t help seeing their glaring faces. They must’ve waited hours to see her, and she only listened to two or three people. She conquered every kingdom in the country, turning them into wards under her rule, and did nothing to help them. Like the men who trailed behind her, they are spoils of war. Sookmyung squandered their collective wealth, expecting her subjects to accept it without complaint. You wished you knew a way to help, but you’re as powerless as them. You watched Hongjoong climb into Sookmyung’s litter, the pair instantly turning to one another, and expected to walk alongside them.

“No, no, YN,” Sookmyung stopped you as you approached. “You’re dismissed for the day. Come to the garden around supper. If anyone comes calling for me, tell them I am indisposed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you bowed, standing aside as the footmen lifted up the five litters.

She turned away from you to kiss Hongjoong, who tilted his head to deepen it. Once more, you locked eyes with one another. You gave him an appreciative smile, which he replied with a blink. You waited until Sookmyung was far away before walking towards the opposite gate back to the residency area. Passing by Sookmyung’s personal apartments, you walked further down the hall to a set of double doors guarded by a leggy man in leather armor.

“Good morning, Junhan,” you grinned at them, the older man grinning back. “Is Her Majesty accepting visitors?”

“She will if it’s you,” he replied, “How was the witch this morning?”

“Junhan,” you hissed, holding back your laugh and looking down the hall, “You know better.”

“Ah, as if anyone is going to hear me here,” he rolled his eyes. He slid open the door for you, and said, “She’ll be glad to see you. Your mother says Her Majesty has been anxious these past few days.”

“Then I should see her quickly,” you said, giving him a nod before walking into the main room.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” you smiled as you entered a nearby sitting room.

The Queen Mother Jisoo was once held in the admiration of everyone in the kingdom. She’d helped the kingdom in many ways during her reign alongside her husband: giving smaller villages access to clean water, funding orphanages and reconstructing damaged parts of the city. She helped pass laws that protected women in arranged marriages or dangerous situations, and gave protection to children. It was because of her that many people, especially the women and children, felt safe in the kingdom. But, when her daughter became queen, the Queen Mother stepped back and focused on her passions instead. However, age came for Jisoo, and her mobility became limited and her health declined slightly.

“Ah, YN, good morning,” Jisoo smiled. She sat in her wheeled chair today, a blanket over her lap and a cup of tea in her hand. “How is my daughter?”

“She is well. She is in the throne hall,” you fibbed. “She asked me to come check on you for her.”

“YN,” she smiled softly, shaking her head, “You’d lie to an old woman to spare her feelings. Please, come and sit. I’m sure Sookmyung did not make the morning easy for you. A servant told me she sent away her handmaidens this morning.”

“She did.” You took the seat across from her and prepared yourself a cup of tea. You offered to refill her cup, but she refused. “Your Majesty, you must eat,” you noticed the amount of food left over, “If you don’t, it will get cold.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite today,” she admitted. “But, I’m sure you’re famished, so please, eat.”

“She hardly had time to eat her breakfast this morning, Your Majesty.”

A woman in a gray and blue hanbok walked into the room, carrying a stack of folded sheets. Her hair tied up in a bun, she wore the blue and gray hanbok of Queen Jisoo’s maids. Like your red ribbon, she wore a white one. You grinned at the sight of your mother. She’d been Queen Jisoo’s handmaiden in her youth, being at her side for every event of her life. When you grew up, you became Sookmyung’s maid. Except, you’re certain your mother had a much better time serving Jisoo than you did Sookmyung.

“And why was that?” Jisoo asked curiously. “Breakfast is important, and you’re still a growing woman.”

“The queen needed me to assist her in her garden,” you admitted over a cup of tea before sipping. You saw the disapproval on your mother’s face, but it was Jisoo who spoke up.

“And what horrid thing did she make you witness?”

“Nothing. She’d sent the concubines away before I arrived.”

“Hmph, in my day, queens did not have ‘concubines’,” your mother huffed, shaking her head. “The physician tells me he brews her tansy tea to avoid scandalous mishaps, but that is not healthy for a young woman. She’ll do severe damage to her womb, and not be able to produce children at all at this rate.”

“Chaewon,” the queen shushed her sharply.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she apologized. She noticed you not eating, and spread a bit of honey on bread for you. You knew better than to refuse her, so you ate it in small bites.

“My Sookmyung has always had a certain fiery passion,” Jisoo said. “Her father was similar. It was why he had so many concubines. He had an appetite I could not handle on my own,” she giggled.

“But, Your Majesty, the things I’ve heard The Queen does are-”

“-I know they are,” she cut in. “My daughter is a young woman, a new monarch. I will not rob her of enjoying her youth before settling down and marrying someone.”

Did that enjoyment of youth involve locking people in dungeons to torment and torture for pleasure? Did it include kidnapping young men from their families and forcing them to fulfill her every whim? Jisoo might make excuses for Sookmyung, but you would not. You finished the bit of bread given to you, and took up a bowl of kimchi instead. Not fully tasting the vegetable side, you pitied the concubines. Only the gods know what act she is forcing Hongjoong and Seonghwa to perform for her.

You wished you could help them. You wished you could help a lot of people.

***

A/N: I freaking love historical aus, don't you?? I know this probably isn't a 100% accurate, but I tried to get as close as possible while still mixing in a fictional realm. I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter <3 feel free to like and reblog, it keeps posts alive!!

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #pirateeznet

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wanderingsimsfinds · 5 months

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Asian saves/worlds are my favorite to play with, so my next sets of CC lists will be focused on Asian CC that I personally use. This list includes some traditional and modern takes on Asian clothing.

WanderingSims Fave CC - Asian Clothing List

babytears - Chinese Top

DizzieSims - Desire Dress

Kiko - Chloe Bathrobe

DizzieSims - Anime Eyes Shirt

CHAMIS - Chinese Outfit

EnableLlamas - Cheongsam Dress Short

babytears - Savagesims Origami Dress

babytears - Sweater Eveln

Nightosphere - 4t3 AxA 2021 AF Lou Sweater

Nightosphere - 4t3 babytears AF Horror Void Sweater

DizzieSims - Long Sleeve Sweater

Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 Trillyke AF Karma Dress

babytears - Hoodie Sad Girl

babytears - Tshirt Junu Nitro

Keiba - Ghibli Tucked Tee

johziii - Ghibli Hooded Sweater

Plbsims - Epiphany Tshirt

simsoficeandfire - Slay Classy Qipao Top

CHAMIS - Skirt Tshirt

VMSims - 4t3 School Korean Uniform Female Top & Skirt

VMSims - 4t3 School Korean Uniform Male Top & Pants

Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 Rimings Autumn School Uniform Outfit AF/TF

Ameriko-Steelie - Pu+Chi House Joshikousei Costume School Uniform TF

Nightosphere - 4t3 casteru CF/PU Kiara Dress

MainlyJustTheSims - Lunar Outfit

Lutetia - Chinese Styled Dress (TSR)

Kewai-Dou - Cloth Kimono Child

Kewai-Dou - Zouri Tabi Child

xiasimla - 4t3 PU Shirt Lunar

SimpleStudio - kkamjinbei

xiasimla - 4t3 AM ChGroom

xiasimla - 4t3 AM Hanbok

kent404 - Japan Male Yukata

kent404 - Japan Female Yukata

richrichooo - The Cheongsam Style 2006

JS Sims - Reformed Cheongsam

lemonleaf - Cheongsam 2

Klavix - Japanese Kimono

Kewai-Dou - Japanese Kimono Type 1

Paulean R - Cheongsam

sweetdevil-sims - WA Cheongsam Teen

YouWillNeverFindMe - 4t3 SimpleStudio404 Japanese Kimono AF/EF

Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 SimpleStudio404 Kimono Teen Conversion

xiasimla - 4t3 Zeussim Asian Affair Dress

Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 Zeussim Asian Affair Dress Teen Conversion

vivia - AF Kimono Renewer

VenusPrincess - AF Zori With Tabi Above Floor

Ameriko-Steelie - VenusPrincess Zori with Tabi Teen Conversion

Ameriko-Steelie - 4t3 Arltos Geta Kimono Shoes AF/TF

#cc list #ts3cc #s3cc #s3ccfinds #asian

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artist-ellen · 11 months

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Hanbok (Joseon Korea) Mermaid… octopus?

Okay so I might have seen a clip of a dumbo octopus being adorable and hanbok-skirt shaped and got a little carried away. I based this on the fashion of Korean-Joseon Royal ladies, semi-specifically the Royal Wives because I love the most elaborate versions of their hairstyles/headdresses. The shapes are just so exciting. (A long time ago I did a bunch of research into it and at one point they were made all of hair (horse hair and real hair) …but it was so heavy it was made safer by being made out of wood. Historical fashion is wild and I love it dearly). I tried to make references to the mermaid-ness of her life by hiding little shell and starfish inspired details. What do you think?

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram.com/ellenartistic or tiktok: @ellenartistic

#korean mermaid #historical mermaid #ellenart #mermaid #historically inspired #historical fashion #lnart #character design #digital illustration #all the mermaids

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madameaug · 5 months

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One of Your Girls: KTH x Black Reader

Pairing: Actor Taehyung x Friend zoned Black Reader

Reader is delusional (like most of us), kinda feel bad, down horrendous, love sick for sure. Kinda mopey tone

I never could have imagined myself being a The Weekend girl. A girl who was so desperate for male attention that she convinced herself that being a side-chick was okay. Uttering that stupid phrase "he knows where home is." I actively laughed and made fun of those girls. Side chicks who believed that they would one day become the wife. That the man who was dragging her along would come to his senses. That she had something special and would motivate him to change his dirty dog ways. Ha! What fools.

Yet there was a voice that didn't belong to me , reciprocating that belly-aching laugh.

Look at you in madly in love with a man who sees you as nothing more than a friend.

Even though no one was pointing that finger at me the embarrassment was swallowing me up whole. Yet again here I laid in the California King bed, alone, hoping he would still be here with me. That after he tucked me into bed, that he would be curled up beside me. I wouldn't dare allow myself to hope that maybe in our mutual intoxication, we shared this bed in a more intimate sense. That I finally escaped the isolating box of friendship. Removing the burn of being called his friend, but rather yet just his.

"Ms. Yn? Are you awake?" Judah Tae's assistant spoke on the other side of the door. Huh, I guess he knew about me staying the night. I wasn't a total fool to know that Judah coming to wake me up, was a clear sign from Tae that my window of being a guest was rapidly closing. He was too much of a coward to address me head-on and politely kick me out. So he tasked that to either his softspoken Judah or his rough-around-edges security guard Binky. At this point I would have preferred Binky to wake me up.

"I'm up, Judah." I picked up my belongings that were scattered across the ground. Nothing too serious but a bright red corset top and a slinky black maxi skirt.

"Your phone and purse are on the dining table, and your Uber is outside. No need to rush out, take your time."

Judah added that last sentence to cushion the blow that I was again getting the discreet dismissal from his boss. I was the pitiful girl who couldn't get the hint. Or perhaps refused to get the hint.

I sat in front of the vanity mirror, getting myself together. Yes, I was a bit prideful. Even though I was on the edge of another anti-climatic emotional breakdown, I'll be damned if I showed it. If fake it til I make it was a person, it would be me.

Drunk me in all her right mind, was smart enough to remove the layers of makeup on my face. They weren't smeared across Taehyung's satin pillow sheets. Sheets I like to think he got for me, to protect my natural hair. I just like to think that he's thinking of me.

Catching my eye were two photo frames. The larger one contained Taehyung and his castmates of Hwarang. He was the youngest and his older castmates had bunny ears behind his head. Even though it was hard to see as Taehyung was dressed in a traditional hanbok. His perfect smile on display, his big ears poking out lateral to the black head strap. He looked like a kid in the candy store. Smiling cheek to cheek, that he actually looked like his six year old self.

Should I truly feel shame for allowing myself to fall in love with a man like him. A man who was kind, interested in the things I liked, was single, intelligent, and had a passion within his career. I wouldn't be exaggerating for saying that Kim Taehyung was one of a kind. It would be hard to find another like him. No. There is no one like him. I was already lucky to be in his space as a friend. Someone who he didn't have to worry about betraying him to the gossip-hungry tabloids, airing out his dirty laundry for the world to sift through and mock. I was honored to be his number one confidant, his best friend. But I won't lie to my heart and say I wish we were something more.

I wish I met his grandmother, the most important woman of his life under the guise of lover. That he posted my face on social media holidays like National Girlfriend Day. I wish that I had an initial in his bio, showing that he was taken.

But instead, I was reminded of the reason why none of my wishes would come true. His true love was currently occupying that space. The female co-star that he was currently the lead with. She was a beautiful ray of sunshine inside and out. Everything about her was pretty. Her skin was clear and smooth, not an imperfection is sight. She had a youthful look to her, easily being mistaken as Taehyung's junior despite her being older than him. Even her name translated to 'pretty' in both her native language and Korean. I didn't need intense calculations to understand why Taehyung was in love with her. If I was a male, hell I'd probably be in love with her too.

Which is why it hurt the most seeing the two lovebirds hug each other so lovingly. Her smile was turning into rambunctious teasing. Bragging that she won this little onsided game between us. That she was the victor in this drawn-out battle for Taehyung's attention and affection.

That I YN YLN was a loser. That I earned second place. Nah. That wouldn't stand for much longer. Kim Taehyung was in love with me. A seedling somewhere in that big heart of his was reserved for me. His girlfriend was the overcast, preventing my little seed from growing. Two can play this game. And rest assured, that this time I would be victorious.

Muah Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!!

(just jokes- i don't support homewrecking <3)

#bts x black reader #kim taehyung #taehyung #madameaug #bts #x black reader #black fem reader #taehyung x black reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you

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mididressobsessed · 1 year

Photo

Source: etsy.com

#hanbok skirt #wrap skirt #blue skirt #long skirt #pretty skirt #midi skirt #modest skirt

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unregistered-doodles · 3 months

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Finally got an idea of what to draw in support of Palestine. Dark Cacao Cookie, wearing a crown of Palestinian flowers with intermittent olives.

He wears a hanbok, the top half adorned in patterns I've seen often in keffiyehs: Fishnet-patterned sleeves, bold lines connecting the sleeves to his chest, and olive leaves spanning the space in between. The chima (skirt) of the hanbok begins with a watermelon seed pattern: The sash is in the design of the Palestinian flag.

He looks up toward a bird in his hand: the Palestinian sunbird, the national bird of Palestine. The bird is haloed by an orange that looks like the sun, referencing Palestinian jaffa oranges.

#free palestine #palestine #dark cacao #dark cacao cookie #dark cacao cookie run #cookie run #crk #cookie run kingdom #don't like it? deal with it loser. keep scrolling

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lopsushi · 1 year

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Hi again, thanks for being apologetic and cool about it. I just wanted to inform you because I know a lot of people don't know the difference. Sorry if this is getting picky or me digging too much into it, but macaques outfit is also very hanbok shaped (if that makes sense). The dress/skirt itself poofs out a lot, which doesn't seem to be a characteristic of hanfu's. Also, from what little I have seen, the "jacket" (for lack of a better term) of a hanfu goes down to the waist or doesn't have a jacket at all. The jacket of an average hanbok would stop right below the chest, though I imagine that part was unintentional.

Of course, im not an expert on Chinese clothing. I just know hanboks because I'm korean, but I did find these kinds of very, very basic guides for differences between hanbok's, kimonos, and hanfu's. I really hope this doesn't come off as rude, I just like to tell people when I notice it because it is common to see people get them mixed up.

I’m just gonna crawl into a hole and cry on my sins.

Again sorry for the mistake but I TRULY appreciate the help of you showing me the differences. I hope I didn’t get you mad or anything including others. I’ll make sure to be careful better. Thanks again for showing me this and again I’m sorry. I never meant to mix tradition clothing. 😖

#ask #I’m awful but I’ll do better #again sorry my dear #hopefully I didn’t make others mad #again thank you for the help and advice

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roobiedo · 11 months

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Happy Pride Month and (very belated) Solarpunk Aesthetic Week! I wanted to redesign my longtime OCs, so I decided to give them a thematic twist!

Self-indulgent details about their designs under the cut:

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From left to right:

Mia Based on the romantic/cottagecore style, and incorporating aspects of Eastern/Central European folk dresses, such as the Czech kroj. Her vest is made from recycled overalls and excess fabric from her apron. Her natural motif is fungi -- her bow and earrings are amanita mushrooms (if you squint, her skirt looks like one too), and the frills on her collar + sleeves are chanterelles!

Clyde He's a bohemian kinda guy, so I kept his silhouette relaxed and unstructured + harem pants + accessories. The exception is his jacket, a union of 3 different garments made to loosely resemble traditional Indian clothing like the achkan. His natural motif is the sun - hence the warm tones, which is contrasted with splashes of teal, the colour of his aura (its a fictional superpower thing).

Glace His style is more preppy/academia - turtlenecks and sweaters are his type, so I gave him 3! Sewn together in a visible mending-esque style (inspired by tumblr solarpunks and their fashion projects)! His palette is taken from the mlm flag, and there's subtle elements of a Korean hanbok - his collar, sleeve shape, sash and tassel. Rips in his pants are covered by cloud patches (his motif), all dyed to match the aesthetic!

Simmer Her thing is streetwear with a cultural twist - her top combines a bomber jacket and a Chinese qipao/cheongsam. Her detachable sleeves are extended via sewn-on zippers (useful as her powers generate a lot of heat)! Her motif is the phoenix, with patterns on her shirt and collar, hand-decorated using the batik method. Her hair streaks are inspired by stripes on a tiger - Malaysia's national animal.

Axis She's all about the y2k aesthetic, with translucent tights and a hoodie stylishly revamped to form a super crop top + a figure-hugging bodysuit. Her design is inspired by indigenous Andean fashion, such as the Ecuadorian pollera, which her skirt might be repurposed from. Her motif is butterflies, as seen in her earrings, the shape of her bodysuit, and the wing-like curves of her skirt.

Piper Initially wanted a punk-ish vibe for him but he might be a bit too cute now oops! His jacket is a mashup of 3 different pieces, and his jeans are a patchwork of denim. He's got iconic looks from French fashion (beret and scarf), as well as some African designs (the vertical pattern I referenced looked like plant cells, but also like binary code? I thought it was so on theme)! His motif is obviously plants of all types!

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Thank you for checking this out (especially if you got this far)!!! ♡♡♡

#art #artists on tumblr #character design #pride #solarpunk #fashion #culture #oc #wish i couldve finished this in time for solarpunk aesthetic week but. drawing is hard ;;#maybe i'll render it in the future #also! im not an expert on cultural clothing so please correct me if i got anything wrong! still learning!#roobiedoodle #the leftoverse #tl mia #tl clyde #tl glace #tl simmer #tl axis #tl piper

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kimyoonmiauthor · 6 months

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Worldbuilding: !@#$ the terfs, be more creative with gender and bio sex than a binary system.

9.5 times out of ten the majority of gender systems I read in US books are really, really uncreative, and I do mean that because manga, has more creative gender systems than a lot of US books. I love you Melanie Rawn, but still, the inversion as good as it was in the uncompleted Ruins of Ambrai, still was largely a European system because it was largely a commentary on the European system. (Yes, I did understand that.)

And the US tends to, very much accuse other countries of having uncreative gender systems that are absolutely rigid, say the US to Japan. (Though the usually [white] understanding of Japanese gender is usually abysmal... but that's a whole paper and a half there.)

When building a gender system, be more creative! You have this other fake culture. You can do whatever the heck you feel like. Say, the Barbie Movie, which hilariously the alt-right USian detested, though it still was a commentary on mostly US gender norms.

Can't we loosen this up a little? You have literal aliens and you can't imagine a more creative sex and gender system than the binary? Oh really? Humans aren't even binary on either. I'm going to give cultural examples.

Introduction

Bugis have 5 genders.

BTW, someone got so mad when I pointed out the page they cited said that Bugis recognized 5 genders, they went on a youtube rant about it. lol Deal. BTW, people put a lot of emphasis on Bissu like how people hyperfocus on trans women in the US because masculinity is that fragile. Albanian is complicated.

Some countries/ethnicities have 3.

India has a 3 gender system in Northern India. Women, men, Hijra

I mean this list:

Some countries don’t even define the two gender system the same way (Europeans are sooo uptight. Loosen up.)

For example, a Korean man wearing pink--no problem. No one flips the hell out when a man in Korea wears a hanbok with a chima and a jeogori. They are like cool. He can do as he likes. Even baksu wear chima in religious ceremonies. They believe it gives them extra powers.

The whole pants. are. for. men. and. women. only. wear. skirts.

Oh c'mon...

Pants were invented for horseback riding--like the heel.

So let's get this mind-numbingly straight (pun somewhat intended here) Men, are men because of horses. (haha, yes, Barbie reference), thus have to wear pants. But are absolutely effing forbidden from wearing heels, which are also associated with what? Horseback riding. Hmmm...

And men still wear dresses and skirts, but they call it by other names.

Judicial robes for sale, and look, a man is wearing them.

But--But that's soo different from a dress...

https://www.net-a-porter.com/en-jp/shop/product/la-doublej/clothing/maxi-dresses/muumuu-printed-silk-twill-maxi-dress/38063312420399795

This is a dress because as Webster's Dictionary says:

: an outer garment (as for a woman or girl) usually consisting of a one-piece bodice and skirt

Yes, it's worn by a woman. I couldn't find another definition.

But men also wear sarongs. And bath towels, and kilts all of which look suspiciously like skirts. And togas. Which shows how fragile the definition is that you need to narrow the definition that much.

And freaking for those religious, God on the Sistine Chapel, by suspected maybe gay Michelangelo, has a vaccuum sealed butt on the Sistine chapel wearing a pink dress.

C'mon, we can be more creative than this, surely. I mean, if you look at this super rigid gender system, does it make any sense at all? OK, I'm NB and all, but seriously, I look at it and go, WTF happened to you?

You get so uptight about men wearing lace, stocking, high heels, dresses, pink but forget so quickly that less than 200 years ago, no one gave a damn, and if a man didn't wear those things, he couldn't make it in high society.

I mean...

Lafayette, wearing pink, heels, stockings, lace (his collar), and a wig. Give me a break here.

And gender definitions change over time...

Just about 100 years back, in order to be out and gay, it was thought your entire gender was different. There was nothing like a butch gay man. You were considered part female, in fact. And no one in the 19th century would have taken exception to that. It didn't change until much later in Europe.

But also Europe imperialized the world with gender expectations, leading to a rise of violence against third gender communities.

What was one of the first three rules of culture I posted? Culture changes. Koreans like to say, even in ten years the Mountains and rivers change. So gender can and will also change in definitions becoming more rigid, more fluid, recategorized, etc over time.

So given all of these things... let's rethink gender.

Gender doesn't have to be Defined by Sex Assigned at Birth

A lot of Human cultures assign gender this way. Born one way, raise them that way, hope it works out.

But you have a whole FANTASY WORLD and you can see, humans don't make a lot of logical sense when it comes to gender. I mean heels are for women, and men should never wear them, except when they are attached to boots, but the boots better not be too high , or you're *gasp* gay is the European "logic" system. And only what? 50 or so years ago, women were finally allowed to wear pants.

So you don't have to do it by genitals. You could do it by hair color. Gender affirming care would be changing your hair color, or horns, or whatever tickles your fancy. You could, say have a cephlapod species with smaller males that can present female part of the time, and based on their texture of their skin, that's their gender.

You could do it by color--the species has actually blue, dark blue, green, yellow, etc skin colors and they can change them at any moment and the one they tend towards, well, that's their gender.

You could also make it so you automatically need a polycule for the species to work out and reproduce. And thus there might be, say a 6 gender system. 2 possible genders for the three adults there.

C'mon. Nature is creative and sometimes has an all female species. Look at Mourning geckos. There are so few males, and they are sometimes called a lesbian species of gecko.

Even then, you have intersex, and not all intersex people are infertile.

Terfs only think it's wrong to "go against nature" when it has to do with gender presentation. Nothing else. But they have no, no problem with assigning a sex to an intersex child without their consent. That's culture taking over for nature. And how that is shaped, or not shaped, absolutely belongs in world building.

If your men aren't horseback riding, and your women aren't either, then dresses for all are fine. Deal with it.

I think it would be entertaining to see an alien species determine the gender of the child by holding up paint swatches to the child's say eyes and then saying, "Yep, a girl."

Or even well, the birther stayed in # temp rooms, for # amount of days, Oh, this is the expected sex of the child. But the gender, well, we will determine that by these [arbitrary] factors.

But seriously, you can define gender and sex however, you want. Is medical/magic intervention necessary or not? Who gets to determine it?

Next step is to find the rules for how gender is expressed in an idealized world.

Do you constantly call all of your girls and tell them they can grow up to be a princess? But tell all your boys they are going to grow up to be doctors and lawyers?

This is what Social Scientists would call socialization.

For this, I would suggest you make a spreadsheet and then put down arbitrary lists of things the "ideal" gender would wear. So for the US, Pink is for girls. Blue is for boys. How they should act. And finally, how they are taught.

It's so ubiquitous that even feminists often trip up and see a baby in a pink dress with lace and automatically pick up a doll. (I'm just saying, maybe think that one over a bit.)

Make a list for each column. And then for the individual characters figure out how they DON'T fit those norms and then terrorize them with it...

What do you threaten the privileged group with if they come out of line?

For men in the US, for example, you go with homophobia. "That's gay."

Because the threat of being gay is sooo outlandish. *eyeroll* It's an threat to everything masculine.

I'll go over this in more detail later in the series, but you need things to discipline the privileged group and the disadvantage group(s). What's the threat if you become this other group? Death? Social ridicule? Financial loss? Being outcast?

Or, do you get rewarded and become a shaman, a healer, or a celebrated hero for being able to not fit in? (This also is possible).

Cultural justifications

Cultural justifications for this are different from the actual historical reasons or the facts.

The historical reason that pink and blue switched was because dyes became more readily available for both and they felt like it.

Blue used to be more rare, and thus considered "virginal" because blue is rare in nature, but under industrialization as people became more and more disconnected from nature, and blue dyes became available, the idea of this became more diluted, and the switch was from blue to pink.

That's not what the cultural justifications were for this thought originally. The thought was that blue was a more "delicate" color, clearly more suited to women.

Because, if you have forgotten (yes a joke coming), humans constantly get amnesia on where things come from. Constantly. We've lost information in your own lifetime. You were born 2 seconds ago? Well, I hate to tell you, we've lost information in that 2 seconds.

So, when they can't remember the reason, Humans make up a reason to go with it, that's often frivolous and silly. Something that feels, what? Natural to them. Though remember the rule, Nature gives no fucks. So find and make up a logical reason for the cultural item and then find a stupid reason that people are willing to double down on it and there you go, that's culture. So say your species of aliens, the ones that are temperature linked to sex, link Iunno, gender to horn size. Bigger horns mean a certain class of gender. The original reason might be that bigger horned females are better at digging nests back when they were a pastoral society, thus better able to have larger clutches of children. But they've now reached the stars, so they completely forgot why and now just say that bigger horns are simply sexier because reasons. Or it could have flipped that smaller horns are in more demand, because big horns get in the way of industrial tasks, but no one says that. And now the bigger horned females, are considered a lower gender than the smaller horned females, who then raise all of the eggs.

See, the justification doesn't even have to follow any sort of logic. It's what they tell everyone to make them feel better.

And truthfully, a lot of culture is built this way. The reason you tell everyone isn't really the actual truth. I mean I did a whole series on Story Structure, and the justifications versus the reasons why it was made that way don't even close to match. People blindly parrot what other people tell them if it will help them succeed. (BTW, not saying I'm not guilty of this, I absolutely am.)

So I think this gives you a good basis to free yourself up for a larger system and be more creative with your gender definitions. Because absolutely both gender and sex are defined by culture, but in different ways.

You have effing demons, and you can come up with a more creative gender categories? You have unicorns and you don't have more creative gender categories. And you have kracken climbing buildings, but you can't imagine a third sex category for them when it absolutely exists in nature. C'mon. Hit me with your most creative and free yourself of your own culture's definitions of gender.

What if you nuked the entire Male/female/NB system. What would that look like? How would you justify it on two fronts? Blow that system out of the water and rework it. What would the Sexual orientation work like with a 3 sexes, 2 gender for each each system?

What stupid prohibitions would you put in for such a system?

#writing advice #worldbuilding #gender #be more creative with gender please

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solitaireships · 3 months

Text

Cultural Reconnection

Happy Lunar New Year! To celebrate, I wanted to do a little selfship fic, and I decided with this one to do a modern AU focused on Helena and Chae-Yeong, partially bcs they have the same backgrounds as me with that so I know a little more about Seollal (Korean new year) things from my irl attempts to connect more with my culture

Full disclosure here, like Helena and Chae-Yeong, a lot of what I know about Seollal celebrations are things that I have recently taught myself from doing research online. This may not be a 100% accurate with how things are celebrated, and if it's not, I would appreciate anyone who knows more giving feedback! While it won't change things with this fic, bcs they also are still learning how to celebrate this properly, it'd help me out with my future LNY celebrations

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2325 words

Divider by saradika

Helena doesn’t cook very often. It’s not that she’s a bad cook, but with her and Chae-Yeong both hating being in the kitchen with other people, Chae-Yeong tends to be the one to make dinner more often than not. Helena figures that with how much food they’ll need for tonight’s Seollal celebrations, though, she could handle the majority of the cooking.

As she cooks, Helena’s in new hanbok that Chae-Yeong had bought for this. She’s had to be careful with it— the last thing she wants to do is stain the light green and pink fabric making up the layers of her clothes. Her hanbok’s chima is longer than any of the dresses or skirts she usually wears, but she likes the way it moves around her as she walks around the kitchen.

In some ways it feels like she’s not supposed to be wearing this— her grandmother never passed on much information about Korean culture to Helena or her mother beyond the food. But she’s worn hanbok before, and she reminds herself that this is a part of her culture, even if it’s something she grew up disconnected from.

It helps that Chae-Yeong’s in a similar boat to Helena. Both of them are a quarter Korean, both of them didn’t get many cultural things passed down to them, and both of them look white. Helena is used to feeling out of place everywhere she goes, never really feeling like she belongs to any community fully. But with Chae-Yeong, she actually feels like she’s not alone.

Trying to fill the many gaps in her knowledge of Korean culture is more fun with Chae-Yeong, though. That’s another thing that makes Helena feel less alone, less like she’s an imposter and doesn’t really count as Korean. And as Helena finishes up making their rice cake soup hopes that she’s able to make Chae-Yeong feel the same way.

“The soup is done, starlight!” Helena calls.

“Smells good,” Chae-Yeong says, coming into the kitchen with a bottle of sparkling cider in hand. She looks pretty in hanbok— she's dressed in has a bright red skirt and a black jeogori. The silver and pink norigae she’s wearing is a nice touch too with its butterfly charm, standing out from the rest of the outfit.

Helena thinks this look suits her well. Her hanbok even matches with the red and black paint along her prosthetic arm and leg. It seems to match her perfectly, and is a good reminder to Helena of just how pretty her wife is.

“Thanks,” Helena says. “Did you get the rest of the table set up?”

“Mhm.” Chae-Yeong sets the bottle down on the counter, digging through their drawers to find a bottle opener. “We’ll just need to get the last of the hot stuff plated, then everything will be ready.”

Helena turns off the stovetop. “Great. I’m hungry after cooking all day.”

“I’m sure it’ll all taste amazing, yeobo,” Chae-Yeong says. “Do you want me to help plate stuff?”

“If it won’t make you annoyed,” Helena replies, half teasing.

Chae-Yeong rolls her eyes but smiles. “Putting food on plates and cooking are too different things. And it’s not like you’re better.”

“I’m not. But it’s always good to be safe, you can get scary when you feel like it.”

“I don’t get scary.”

“Yeah, you do.” Helena nudges Chae-Yeong’s side as she walks past with a plate of bulgogi. “You look pretty like that, though.”

Chae-Yeong laughs, pausing the process of scooping some rice from their rice cooker to look at Helena. “You’re the only person in the world who could think I’m attractive when I’m mad.”

“Mhm, which is part of why I’m very lucky to have married you,” Helena says.

Chae-Yeong gives her one last little affectionate look before they both go back to plating their food. It’s a lot of work to do, but between the two of them, they’re able to get the job done quickly. Helena switches to bringing plates over to the table, doing what she can to remember where everything is supposed to be placed.

This isn’t like her and Chae-Yeong’s normal dinner arrangements. They have food set up practically covering every inch of it. At one end of the table is a collection of fruits such as Asian pears and apples, with a row of vegetables set up on plates behind it. The third row at the back of the table is where they set up their bowls of rice along with plates full of japchae and bulgogi. There’s a spot near the middle of that back row for the rice cake soup which Chae-Yeong brings in in two large bowls. Behind the table is a folding paper screen, one set up there especially for today. They’ve also set up a candle on either side of the table’s middle row, which Helena lights as she waits for Chae-Yeong.

It’s a lot of food for the two of them to eat. Far more than they’d usually prepare. Helena’s never been a big eater, and just looking at everything laid out in front of them is almost intimidating.

The food isn’t all for them, though. This year they’re trying something new. A part of Seollal is honoring ancestors with charye rites, and this year they’ll be making their first attempt at performing that.

Preparing an offering table was Helena’s idea. She wasn’t sure how Chae-Yeong would feel about it. Chae-Yeong’s relationship with her family was never a good one, and if she didn’t want to be part of the charye rites, Helena would have understood. Only Chae-Yeong’s biological father even seemed remotely worth honoring. Maybe none of Helena’s ancestors are either— her relationship with her maternal grandparents had been tense for years, and she doesn’t know much about any of her relatives beyond her grandparents.

But this is something that’s part of most celebrations of Seollal, and Helena wants to try this at least once. Chae-Yeong agreed to this too, and if nothing else Helena will be glad that she gets to do this with her wife. They had to make some substitutions, though— Helena read that alcohol is usually offered to ancestors, but neither of them drink so instead they opted for a sparkling cider. Incense is also used for charye rites too, but the smell makes Helena feel sick so instead they have a reed diffuser set up on the table by the vegetables.

“Are you ready to do the honors?” Helena asks as Chae-Yeong comes to rest her head on her shoulder.

“If you are,” Chae-Yeong says. “I’m still not sure I’m the best one to be handling this, though. There wasn’t a ton of information about what I’m supposed to be doing online.”

“You’ll do great,” Helena promises, reaching back to give her wife’s hip a quick squeeze.

Chae-Yeong takes a deep breath. It’s rare that she’s ever nervous, but that she’s clearly worried about this is a sign of just how much it matters to her. This is a part of her culture too, a part that neither of them are experienced with. They both want to get this right.

Knowing Helena’s not alone in this is nice.

But it’s also nice seeing the way any nerves fade away as Chae-Yeong begins performing the charye rites. She pulls a piece of prayer written in Korean from one of the pockets built into her skirt, placing it on the table before calling out towards their ancestors in a greeting, welcoming them to the table. She’s always been good at coming off as confident even when she’s new to something, and she looks like she’s done this a thousand times as she pours a cup of sparkling cider as an offering. She places a pair of chopsticks on the plate of bulgogi and leaves a spoon in one of the rice bowls.

Chae-Yeong moves to move the paper screen, unfolding it more so it hides the table from view. Her skirts rustle around her as she makes her way back to Helena.

“Alright, we’ll have to step out for a bit now,” Chae-Yeong says.

Helena nods and lets her wife lead the way out of the dining room and into their living room.

“Are we supposed to just sit in silence while the ancestors eat?” Helena asks as she closes the door behind her.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t find anything about that when I was figuring this out,” Chae-Yeong admits. She takes a seat on the couch. “I’d say we try to be quiet just to be safe. That feels more ceremonial.”

“Okay.”

Helena sits down next to Chae-Yeong. She doesn’t usually like sitting around in silence for a long time— her mind wanders easily, and usually it wanders towards rumination and everything in her life that’s stressing her out. But with Lunar New Year on her mind, she finds her thoughts going to better things for once.

She wonders what her great-grandparents would have thought of her and Chae-Yeong. She never met them, and she never heard stories about them either. There are no puzzle pieces for her to put together, there’s no story she can create from scraps of information. Most of her family tree is a mystery to her even as she honors them.

But Chae-Yeong’s not a mystery at all. Helena knows how to read her unlike anyone else, knows every single one of her little quirks by heart. She’s someone who makes sense, and Helena’s always grateful for their similarities. She makes life so much better for her, and she hopes that regardless of who her great-grandparents or even her great-great-grandparents were, they’d at least be proud of her for finding someone she can be herself around. Maybe they’d be proud of her for reconnecting with her roots, for trying to follow cultural traditions even if it took her a long time to do so.

Family is weird, and it’s complicated, but Helena hopes that there’d be someone in Chae-Yeong’s family that’s happy for her too. And if no one else is, then Helena will be proud of her for them.

The five minutes they’re away from the dining room pass quickly. Chae-Yeong’s leg brushes against Helena, getting past her skirt so that she can feel the plastic of her prosthetic foot brushing against Helena’s lower leg.

Chae-Yeong breaks the silence with a cough. “We’re good to head back in.”

Helena gets up first, waiting a second for Chae-Yeong to get up after her. She stretches as she gets up, making a soft grunting noise.

Nothing’s different as the two of them make it back into the dining room, though Helena feels like it should be. She hopes that this is what they’re supposed to be doing, as Chae-Yeong makes her way to the table again. She moves to put the folding screen back in its original position, revealing the table again. She goes to take the chopsticks from the bulgogi, then the spoon from the rice bowl.

“We’re supposed to bow four times now,” Chae-Yeong says as she rejoins Helena. “It’ll help send the ancestors back to the spirit world.”

Helena hums in response, taking four deep bows along with Chae-Yeong. She hopes that if anyone is watching from the other side, they appreciate the food she and Chae-Yeong prepared for them.

Chae-Yeong strides over to the table again, now taking the written prayer from it and burning it over the candle. The ashes fall down onto the table, and Helena notes that next year they should use a tablecloth.

“Okay,” Chae-Yeong says. “Since we don’t have any ritual things outside of that prayer, I think that’s about it aside from eumbok.”

“Great,” Helena says. Now it’s her turn to step up to the table.

It’s hard to say if that’s what the ceremony was supposed to be like when she has no frame of reference for it. Now that it’s over, she can’t help but worry that they did this wrong. She heard that people usually eat dried fish for Seollal— they didn’t have any of that, maybe that means the food offerings aren’t right. And they might not have done the ceremony itself right either, it was hard trying to find resources online about how to do this. She knows that she’s probably being irrational, and she’s probably holding herself to too high standards, but worry still eats at her.

“I think we might be doing this wrong,” Helena says, frowning down at the table.

“Maybe,” Chae-Yeong replies. Her arms wrap around Helena’s waist as she hugs her from behind. “But I like trying this with you.”

Helena can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah. I like it too.”

It’s not perfect. Helena knows it never will be, no matter how much she wishes she could push everything into place. But she thinks she can be content with imperfection if Chae-Yeong is.

So she leans back to give Chae-Yeong a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How about we go ahead and eat, then?” she suggests.

“Sounds good.”

As they sit down at a corner of the table, Helena looks at all of the food laid out before them. It’s impressive to think about how much they managed to make in one day, and even if things aren’t perfect, Helena thinks now that she’s happy with how things turned out. They’re definitely going to have a lot to eat, though, and she’s sure they’ll be eating leftovers for a long time after this.

Helena takes a slice of Asian pear, offering it to Chae-Yeong. She takes it between her teeth, biting off a piece with an affectionate look at Helena.

She’s lucky to be going into this new year with Chae-Yeong. Everyday with her is a gift. And Helena hopes that when they eat their rice cake soup, symbolizing growing a year older with the lunar new year, this will be one of many more years spent together.

#selfship fic #selfship #safeship #safeship fic #my writing #my posts #lunar new year #💫 Modern AU 🌙#💫 shepherd’s delight #💫#🌙 helena

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namjoonswaifu · 1 year

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Chapter 6- The Royal Announcement

Warnings: female presenting character, mentions of abuse from a parental figure, mentions of bullying, mentions of the death of a side character, yoongi being adorable, namjoon being protective, namjoons eomma being protective, low self esteem, crying, mentions of a dog

Word Total: 4.2k

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Claps soon emanate from the room at the acceptance of the king’s proposal of marriage. Briefly glancing just past the shoulder of the king, you saw your two other contenders, standing there practically green with envy. Their faces contorted with anger at the realisation that they would never be queen. You had the power. But you didn’t care about the power, it was the love of the boys both in front of you and behind you. The boys who you had become so close to, that you felt if you were away from them for too long your heart may break.

Namjoon turns back around, and his eyes fall onto the crowd before him. Rustling is heard as people fall to their knees to bow to their king and now… their future queen. Eun-Bi and Seol-Hyun begrudgingly follow the audience's lead. Once everyone had risen again, Namjoon addressed the audience once more.

“Tonight we shall celebrate my bride. The wedding will take place in 50 days. I would like to invite my beautiful future queen's family forward. However, first I would like to introduce the two candidates who did not make it. Tradition states that you are now Kings women” he began, turning to face the women who now held mischievous smirks on their faces. Namjoon squeezed the hand he was still holding before continuing on “However, that will not be what is happening this time. The woman whom I will marry will be the only one for me” he carried on, turning back to the crowd fully “As you all may know, I have never had a… collection…” he grimaced “of concubines. And I will not be starting now. I invite you all to enjoy the celebrations. And I especially look forward to meeting my bride’s family” he finished. A sudden pang hit your chest when you realised Namjoon was meeting your father. You had spoken with the Queen Dowager about what your relationship with your father was like, and you didn’t know if she had mentioned it to the boys, but knowing her, she would have.

Putting on a brave face, you smiled whilst your family made their way up to the two of you. Your mother was the first to greet the two of you, a look of pride and a smile as wide as her face greeted you.

“Chin-aehaneun, I am so proud of you. I have missed you so much” she spoke, placing her hands against your cheeks, love radiating from her eyes. Pulling you into a hug, you allow yourself to take a breath of her scent. The scent reminded you of home. Of love. Of warmth. Of her. She was wearing her best hanbok for this occasion. The jeogri was a beautiful crimson colour, the chima matching the colour perfectly. Your family emblem is sewn into the bottom of the skirt as yours had. The goreum was in a beautiful white, a contrast to the dark colour of the other fabric just beneath it. After a brief hug, your mother took a step back, before falling onto her knees in front of the king.

“My deepest apologies, your royal highness, for I did not greet you first, as I should have. It has been so long since I have been able to hold my daughter that I forgot my place. Please forgive me, my King”. Namjoon laughed joyfully, crouching down to pull your mother from the floor, a smile so handsome that you felt your heart miss a beat and a smile crawl onto your lips.

“Eomeoni, you need not thank me. I would have done the same in your position. Thank you for giving birth to such a woman, my family and I love her.” he said pulling her to stand. “I would like to formally invite you to dine with the Kim family, where you will dine alongside myself, my eomma and my closest men. Please join us in the dining hall in around 10 minutes from now?” he said, his hand closed around your mothers as he talked. After receiving a nod of confirmation from your mother, he lets go of her hands and takes a step back. The handsome smile falls from his face, as he moves his hands behind his back. The briefly gentle-looking man, now looking every part of King Namjoon. He turns to your father, his face stern and solid, his teeth grit together. Your father, pretending to play the part of a loving father, takes a step towards you. However, it is not Namjoon that stops the man from taking a step closer to you. Its Yoongi. Both yours and your father's faces change to one of shock. Your father goes almost red in anger before he remembers where he is and takes a step back once more.

“My apologies Sir, I didn’t realise I couldn’t greet my own daughter” he spoke to Yoongi, disdain evident in his voice. Yoongi smirked at the audacity of the man before him. Yoongi remembered everything you had told him of your father from the times you had spent together since arriving here, he had also been told by the Queen Dowager, when she warned everyone of the turbulent relationship between the two of you before the ceremony.

*5 days previous*

The boys had decided that today was Yoongi’s day to spend with you. He had been the busiest and had the least amount of time to spend with you, and as it was his free day, they deemed it only fair that it was his day. You had received a letter in the early morning to meet him in the cherry blossom gardens, on the dock by the lake. One of his men would be there to escort you, just in case you got lost. You found out recently when trying to find a wishing well that Jungkook had told you about in the east corner of the grounds, how easy it really was to get lost in a place such as this, so you were thankful that someone would be able to escort you to the exact right place.

Dressing in the hanbok that Jimin gifted you, you revelled in the beauty of it. Watching how the sun hit the purple shades beautifully, and how it caught the glimmer of the golden thread that was sewn into the dress in butterfly shapes. Making sure to attach the norigae to the outfit, your heart filled with happiness and love at the thoughts of the time you had spent here so far. Sitting down you pull on the lilac beoseons and then place the purple gomusin’s. Finally, you turn and shuffle over to where your mirror sat, and where your ladies were waiting for you. On the table by the mirror were the golden cheopji’s that you had been gifted alongside the outfit you were currently wearing, as well as the earrings that Yoongi had gifted you. Your heart fluttered as you remembered what he had said when gifting them to you. No one other than your mother had made you feel as loved and as beautiful as the 6 men you met with regularly and the Queen Dowager. You had yet to meet the king for the final part but the men of his that you had met gave you hope that they would be as kind as them. Alongside the earrings from Yoongi, was the ring that Taehyung had gifted you. Luna, the puppy that Jungkook had gifted you, sat next to you, her head resting on your leg as Hwasa began styling your hair, braiding it but allowing some hair to fall in strands around your face. She places the cheopji’s in carefully, before moving on to her next job. Applying a gentle rouge to your lips, making them a gorgeous pink colour. Soft and inviting, you hoped. Whilst Hwasa was attending to your hair and makeup, Hyo-Seong got to work placing the jewellery onto your body. First, she placed the earrings in your ears, making sure not to let any of the loose hair knot into the earrings. Then, she placed the signet ring on your little finger on your right hand, the finger closest to your ring finger, making you smile down at it. Once they had both completed their respective jobs, they took a step back and smiled at their work. Hyo-Seong took a step to the side, retrieving a collar and a rope-like item. The rope had a handle fashioned onto it, and any loose hairs on the rope had disappeared. It was able to be tied onto the collar. Hwasa called Luna over to her, who upon hearing her name bounded over to the lady. Placing the collar carefully around the neck of the dog, she then attached the lead, before handing the part with the handle to you. You stood up, smiled at your dog and the ladies and made your way towards the door.

Pulling open the door, you saw a man with his fist raised. The man jumped and took a few steps back.

“Lady Seo, I am here to bring you to the Head Directorate, His Lordship Min Yoongi, please accompany me this way,” he says, bowing slightly and moving his arm to gesture the way towards the cherry blossom gardens. Bowing slightly back, you turn and smile towards your ladies before moving out of your apartment and following after the young man just ahead of you. Moments later, you arrive in front of the man who you had previously been told about. Min Yoongi, in the flesh. He stood by a large piece of fabric on the ground. Pillows are strategically placed, allowing for comfort as well as for being able to see each other comfortably. A small wooden table sat near the end of the pier. It held so many of your favourite foods, that you have discussed with the Queen Dowager or one of the other boys. Everything from your favourite snack to your favourite dessert was on the table. Another table just to the left of it, held different drinks, also, more of your favourites. Luna didn’t care to notice your admiration and tugged on the rope to get to Yoongi, wanting belly rubs from the man. Yoongi noticing the pull on the lead gave you a swift nod, and you let go of the lead, allowing her to run to the man, desperate for his attention. You smile at the sight of the usually stoic man, smiling a gummy smile down at the small dog. Your heart felt so full at that very moment. Seconds later, Luna got bored with the tummy rubs and went and laid on one of the cushions, lying directly on her back, paws in the air, soaking in the sun as if she was a human trying to soak up the sun into their bones. Yoongi lets out a short laugh, directing his gummy smile towards you, before holding his hand out…

“Shall we, Lady Seo?” he asks. You smile back at the man, taking his hand and allowing him to lead the way over to the cushions.

“I may have had to ask the boys and eommoni what your favourite food and drinks are,” he said nervously, taking a jug of liquid and pouring it into two separate cups. Handing one to you and then taking his. You both smile at each other and take a small sip of the liquid. A content smile leaves your lips once you have swallowed the sweet liquid. It was peach tea, much like the tea that is served at the Queen Dowager’s luncheons. Served in your favourite way, cold and sweet. You take another happy sip, before placing the cup down and turning to look at the man before you.

“You did not need to do all of this for me, my lord,” you told him before continuing “I deeply appreciate and love this, but it is not I that deserves this”. The words that come out of your mouth quickly make the man before you snap his head to you in shock.

“Why is it that you have decided that you do not deserve this? What or who has made you believe that you are not worthy of all the love and attention that you receive? Tell me who and I shall have their heads immediately” the blonde-haired man speaks to you, his voice serious and his eyes full of questions and… worry? Why is the man before you worried? It could not be that he has feelings for you, you tell yourself. Bowing your head slightly, you try to put into words the thoughts that are swirling around in your head.

“I do not know how much the Queen Dowager has told you about myself. So please allow me to tell you myself.” you began “When I was growing up, I briefly attend schooling, mainly on elegance, reading and other such subjects. Whilst attending this school, I met Yeji, my best friend, and my school bullies, who are also here, Kim Seol-Hyun and Kwon Eun-Bi. They made my life in and around that school a living nightmare, they would constantly taunt my weight and…. The…. my….. My sister died when I was younger, it couldn’t be helped, we did everything we could, tried every doctor, and every medicine. Nothing worked, and she passed away in my arms. The two girls somehow knew of this and told me every day that it was my fault, that the reason she passed was due to me, and that she never got any food, but that wasn’t true. I barely ate when my unnie was ill, I was always the one looking after her. And that’s when my father started drinking, using the money on beer instead of looking after his family. I tried so hard to keep my family together, but I just couldn’t do it. And those two… beasts made everything worse, to the point where I engrained into my brain that I was undeserving of love, because surely if three people tell you that you are unworthy of love that must be true right?” you spoke. You jumped when you felt a soft thumb touch your cheek, wiping away the tears you didn’t know that you had spilt.

“You are worth so much more than their meaningless words, you are worthy of so much love and you deserve so much love. They do not even deserve to be in your presence. You are an angel that has been sent down to show us what we have been missing and what we need in our lives. You don’t have to tell me any more if your heart does not desire to do so” He spoke, his eyes never leaving yours, as he continued to wipe more tears away from your rosy cheeks.

“Things between my father and I got a lot worse when unnie died. He drank more, and he treated me worse. He would come home from drinking and say ‘im using this money for your future’, he would tell me that his drinking was all my fault. That it should have been me who died. The night that Lord Kim Seokjin announced that the King was looking for a Queen in our village was the night that my father attacked me for the first time. When I came home with the news that the Supreme Commissioner had visited and told us the news, he told me that I would not be proceeding with the application. I tried to be brave” you continued on. Yoongi took a hold of both your hands, enveloping his large ones with yours. He squeezed them and you gave him a gentle smile before continuing on. “ I told him that he has no authority in this decision, that the law dictated that we must, or our family would be shamed. My mother was so happy to be able to do this for me. She told me to go and get myself ready for the dinner that we would be having with the Hwangs. And so I did, I went to my room to get myself ready and I had taken some of my braids out when my father stormed into the room. I had never seen him so angry before. I felt trapped… and…. And… scared” you spoke. Tears began falling down your face at a more rapid pace. Yoongi could see your eyes beginning to fill with fear as the story continued on. “He stormed in and told me that I was treating him as a child as if I was his parent. I was sitting down, so I thought standing up might make me safer, but he obviously thought differently. He lunged towards me, and he grabbed some of the braids that were still tied and yanked me to the floor with them. I remember hitting my head and then him screaming at me” you stated. Yoongi continued to watch as your eyes became more and more distant as if you weren’t really there with him. Almost like you had been transported into your memory. He moved to sit next to you, holding you in his arms. Allowing you to feel safe when you’re body was feeling terrified. “Even when I was on the ground he screamed ‘I am the man of this house’ and ‘I make the rules’. One of the things that hurt more than what he did was his screaming in my face ‘not a’” you hiccuped “ ‘a fat little girl who won’t even make it past the first stage’ and then he crouched down to my height, and told me that it should have been me that died, and I should never have been born and that I was a disgrace.” You finished, looking up into Yoongi’s brown eyes. Your eyes became more focused and then a light smile hit your lips “that's when my eomma came in. She grabbed him by his ear and dragged him out by it. I had never seen so much fire and anger in that women’s eyes ever before. It was truly a sight to behold. Once she had pulled him out of the house, she came back in and told me that I was none of those things that the man had told me and she held me as I curled up into her arms, My eomma has always been my biggest supporter.” you finished. Yoongi looked at you, and he didn’t look at you with shame or embarrassment, there was a look in his eyes that almost reminded you of love. He held you in his arms for a few moments longer before speaking to you again “your eomma is right, you are none of those things that the disgrace of man who calls himself your father called you. You are so much more. I have only known you for a short while but I know that I cannot let you leave my life. My life is so much better now that you are a part of it. And if I have anything to do with it, Namjoon… I mean the king, will make you his wife, and I… I mean we… I mean he, will be able to dote on you for the rest of your life. You are worth so much more than what he says, and if I ever have the displeasure of meeting him, know that I will have a few choice words to say to him” He tells you, his face stern, his eyes looking off into the horizon, making you giggle at his almost heroic position.

“Thank you, Lord Min,” you told him.

“Call me Yoongi” he responded

“Thank you, Yoongi” you repeated. “I do have a question for you, however,” you continued

“Question away nae salang/Sarang,” he told you, making you blush at him calling you ‘his love’.

“What is the relationship between you, the Great King and his other men? You need not tell me if it makes you uncomfortable my lord” you questioned. “Sorry I mean Yoongi”

The man laughs at your minor slip-up, making you feel at ease. He turned his body slightly more towards you.

“The king, his men and I, well…” he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing “we are together. Romantically that is. But I personally have felt that we weren’t quite complete like there was something or someone missing. And I can’t speak for the other boys, well I can a little bit due to the discussions we’ve had. But when we saw you, it was like everything in the world became brighter, the colours more radiant, the breeze that much sweeter. Like you were destined to be ours. And so we told Namjoon, who will be choosing the final woman to be the bride, and we all concluded that you were the woman we wanted. So if you’ll have us, we want you. We all want you” he finished, looking you directly in the eyes, fear and nervousness swirling around in his eyes, as he waited with bated breath for your rejection or acceptance of his admission.

“I want nothing more than to be yours, all of yours,” you told the man before you, bringing your hand up to rest against his cheek. His eyes lit up with joy as he stood up, pulled you up, and lifted you into his arms, spinning you around

“You need not apologise Sir Seo, but it is your King who you should address first, not your daughter. Or do you not have any respect for your King or even your future son-in-law” Yoongi spoke. His back was straight, his ceremonial robes fitting to perfection around every crease of his body, and his right hand resting gracefully on the katana that dangled from his left-hand side. The man before him looked flabbergasted. Namjoon let out a quiet snicker beside you that he easily covered as a cough if you did not know any better.

“Who do you think you are, telling me who I shall and shan’t greet? The Great King was accepting of my wife greeting our beloved daughter before him, so I shall do the same” Your father spoke, digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. Before Yoongi had a chance to respond to the ill-mannered man before him, the Queen Dowager stood, moving to stand between your father and the men who stood on either side of you.

“The man who you are talking to” the Queen Dowager started “is the Head Directorate, a man way beyond your station. It is required of you to speak to him with respect. Or you see that katana that he holds so elegantly?” She spoke, moving her hand and body to gesture to the large blade that Yoongi held, her head turning just slightly more than her body to send a wink to the three of you. Once she has gestured, she moves her body back towards the man who fidgets in his spot, taking a step closer towards him, her face stiffening with hidden anger. She lowers her voice so that only those nearby can hear “I will personally assure you that he uses that ever so sharp blade to cut your head clean from your neck. If you ever think about disrespecting my family. Ever. again. Is that understood?”. The man before her swallowed in fear before nodding and bowing deeply towards the revered woman.

He moves and stands in front of the king. He too falls to his knees and bows multiple times before him. Waiting for the command to stand to fall from the gracious king’s lips. He bows 5 more times before the words slip from between the plump lips of the king.

“You may stand,” he tells him, his voice deep with authority. “However,” he continues on “as you so like to drink, you shall be sent to the bar. For good. You will never see your family again, you have lost your title, and if you think of ever causing any trouble, my mother will see that her threat becomes reality. Do you understand me?”. Your father stands there, his mouth falling open and closed as if he were a fish. After a few moments without a response, he sighs deeply before repeating. “I said. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” enunciating his every word. Your father, still not responding, stands there. It is only when Namjoon calls for the guards that he begins to realise the depths of his situation and tries to scramble his way out of it. He falls to the ground again and bows as deeply as possible, begging the tall man before him for his forgiveness. But Namjoon does not budge a single inch, glaring down at the man with the most amount of distaste you had ever seen in anyone's eyes.

When your father has finally been removed from the room. Namjoon turns to your mother.

“Eommani, I sincerely and deeply apologise for having to do that within your presence. It would be my greatest honour to house you within my kingdom. Would you do me that honour?” He asks the woman who is a striking resemblance to you.

“It would be my honour, your highness she says” bowing as low as she can once more. Namjoon pulls her up before she can reach the floor before telling her “you need not bow towards me eommani, it is I who should bow to you.” He states, going to bow himself. Your mother stops him before he can even bow his back more than 45 degrees. She holds his hands in hers and speaks…

“Please call me eomma”

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