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SCOUPS @ Lollapalooza Berlin

𝖍𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌 - 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

a seventeen inspired historical, route-based au.

pairing: route specific member x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, yoon jeonghan (later), hong jisoo (later), wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo (later), lee jihoon, lee seokmin (later), kim mingyu, xu minghao (later), boo seungkwan, choi hansol (later), lee chan warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing word count: 11.2k

in 662 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞, you leave your hometown in search for your father, a physician whose work takes him far from home and oft to the battlefields of the kingdom. but with no word from him in months, you disguise yourself as a man and head to seorabeol, the kingdom’s capital, in search of him. it’s not until you become involved with a group that calls themselves the 𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 that things begin to unravel at the seams.

𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢 || 𝔰𝔳𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 3𝔯𝔡, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It has been two months since your father left. And those two months felt like a lifetime. It isn't that you are so solely dependent on your caretaker that you’d let your home and his practice fall into ruin. It’s just that he said he’d be gone for at most two weeks while he attended to a patient in Seorabeol. He’d neglected to write, forgotten, maybe. But he isn't a careless man, you know that as much as he. Perhaps that’s why you find yourself so stricken with apprehension as you near the gates of Silla’s capital, the dirt under foot hard in the dead of winter.

The gates of the city stand menacingly in front of you, the grip you have on the knapsack slung over your shoulder tightens as you begin to notice the mass of people making their way in and out of the city. You have to dodge every nudging elbow prodding into your back to move you forward, duck or sway when a merchant’s wares almost topple from their carts and try not to make eye contact with the soldiers who line the entrance. 

Eventually, you make it into the city with little to no fuss raised about you, everyone seems so deeply enthralled with their own business you are easily out of their minds. Yet now that you stand in the streets of Seorabeol, you don’t know which way to go. It isn't as if your father had left a directory for you to follow him up on, nor had any of his letters detailed his whereabouts in the capital in full. So, you sigh and continue forward, beginning to scan the crowds in search of a face you haven’t seen in months.

Despite the golden sun shining down onto the Kingdom’s capital, Seorabeol lies under a blanket of cold air. And despite the layers of cloth and fur adorning your shoulders the wintery chill sets into your bones as you continue along the streets.

 Through the passing greetings of friends, the shouts of merchants and the bickering of their patrons, the voices collide together in a symphony of noise, you can’t seem to pull one apart from the other. No faces look at you with recognition, but why would they? This isn't your home, and you are surely just another visitor that they’d forget as soon as you leave their line of sight. 

You had come to the capital when you were a child, your father had been called upon by some aristocratic family, but you could scarcely remember who it had been. After the patient had been treated the pair of you had retreated to your village some distance away from Seorabeol, the memory of this place and its people quickly leaving your subconscious.  

Even now, after the partial loss of that memory, you can recall how cold the city had been compared to how cold it is now. It might be due to the winter chill that resides like a phantom over the streets, but this feels different, more ominous now that you’re old enough to realize it. 

 Had you been right to leave your home? 

The question plagues you as you wander the winding streets, your legs tired from your trek and eyes even heavier from the lost sleep over the course of your father’s absence. You question, ask if anyone had heard your father’s name or had seen him before, but conclude that those who had seen or met him had done so weeks prior.

And then you ask of Namekawa Yasuo, an acquaintance of your father’s. He is another physician that might know where he resides. But that inquiry leaves you with a snickers and a turn of the other’s heels. It is most likely that your father and his friend had ventured on to another town from here. You are alone once again.

Before you realize it, dusk has fallen over the city, the gray clouds beginning to unleash a torrent of snowy flurries that make the streets become almost unnavigable. Your hands pull your overcoat together, trying to find warmth where you already know there won't be. If you don’t want to freeze to death, you’ll have to find somewhere to stay the night or die by freezing or by some wandering bandit.

“Excuse me,” you call out as you stop traversing the road, turning to the side and over to a small stall aligning the street. Eyes locking with those of a miserly sort of merchant, you poise the question, “Do you know where the nearest inn is?” 

For a moment you've forgotten that you’re wearing your father’s clothes, so when the grizzled voice of the merchant asks if you’re looking for a pleasure house to get lost, you are somewhat puzzled. It's only with a moment of insistence that you’re just looking for a normal inn, do they comply. 

“Past the butcher’s, it’s cheap enough.” He turns away from you with that final statement, continuing to close up his stall and lock his goods away until the next morning. 

A quick nod and you’re off, the lanterns aligning the street only helping when the flurries die down a bit and you’re able to see several meters in front of you. You quicken your pace whenever you hear someone behind you, all too skittish to get out of this outbreak of snow. It isn't as if you fear the city’s inhabitants, but you’d heard warnings throughout your life that traveling alone at nighttime isn't ever a great idea. Maybe being dressed as a man should put you more at ease, but the message ingrained into your brain is even more overpowering. 

The city grows even darker as you fail to find the inn that the merchant had mentioned, had you already passed it? Ahead of you looks to be one of the agate walls aligning the city, stopping you dead in your tracks as you think of where to go next.

“Hey, kid.” A voice calls out behind you, it sounds disjointed, slurred. Are they drunk?

You spin on your heels, your hand reaching for your bag, for the small blade you’d tucked away in case of an instance like this. But it isn't just one man, it is three men swaying on their feet. Even at some distance away you can smell the sickeningly sweet scent of their perfumes and notice the bright colors their robes are made of. They are of some standing in society, but with the way they are presenting themselves, you suspect they are of the aristocracy’s lower ranks.

“Can I help you?” Using a lower register of your voice as you speak, as if it’ll somehow cast some sort of intimidation onto the men, you nod at them. Your fingers gently undo the string on your bag, reaching around for your blade. When you were younger your father had encouraged lessons, somewhat breaking the mold as for what was appropriate for a girl to learn, but your father had always been the unconventional sort.

“That’s a pretty blade,” one notes as you slip the weapon from the bag, the sheen from the hilt catching in the light of the streetlamp above. It is then you realize that they are probably more interested in the family heirloom than they are in you. “Seems a little extravagant for a commoner like you to have.”

“Why don’t you hand it over? We’d put it to much better use,” another snickers, stumbling forward and reaching his hand out towards you. Their heavily jeweled wrist chimes as their hand outstretches towards you, the gold glimmering in the now open moonlight.  

“But this is…” you hesitate, understanding that they wouldn’t comprehend its sentimentality. The handle of the blade is cool under your grip as your knees tense. It doesn’t look as if any of the men are going to stop harassing you until they get what they are after, your only choice now is to get away from them at any cost.

So, you run. Feet slapping atop the ground, the tops of your shoes becoming wetted by the puddles of melted snow you step into as you bolt down a side street.

“Son of a— get back here!” You hear one of them call out after you, the collective sounds of their footfalls chasing after you only seconds later. 

It seems like you were running for hours, your heartbeat loud in your ears and the cold air tearing at your lungs with every breath you inhale. They are still chasing after you, they sound more distant now, but their curses and footfalls still echo the street behind you. You spot an alley and decide to duck into it for an attempt at eluding them.

There are several long sheets of wood leaning against the side of one of the houses, finding it an apt hiding place, you crawl under them, trying to calm your breathing as you hear the footsteps of the nobles approach. 

“Are you sure it was this one?” You hear a voice after a few seconds at the opening of the alley, the labored breathing tells you it is one of your pursuers. 

“It had to have been,” the voices and footfalls edging closer, the clinking of their belts signaling their proximity. 

You hold your breath, expecting to be found out any second. But you’re not, instead the air goes quiet, the sound of the wind whistling through the alleyway all you can hear. It isn’t until a few seconds later that one of the men cries out in pain.

Before you can peek out from behind the board you stop yourself, not wanting to be caught by those men or whoever had caught them. 

“What do you think you’re doing!” One of the men cries out, you hear a blade being unsheathed as they speak. 

Another blade unsheathed, the sounds of iron on iron clanging through the air for a few seconds before one of the men speaks out again, “Why aren’t you dying?” A few bated breaths, “Jinyoung, we should get out of here—”

Something akin to primal fear takes over you at that moment, locking you in place, unable to move for a moment. What is out there? What are they fighting? With your mind flying with all sorts of gruesome imagery, you barely have time to comprehend what you are doing. Your head peeks out from your hiding spot and into the alleyway. 

There’s another clangor of steel as you look, the light from the street reflecting off one of the blades as two people are interlocked in a fight. The only figure you can see fighting is donned in a light blue robe, had they saved you?

Something of a menacing laugh emits from them, their blade once again falling onto the other’s as one of your pursuers cries out for help. Your savior says nothing as he stops his attacks, only now moving to raise his blade over his head and bringing it down to fatally slash against the chest of his foe. The struck noble lets out an anguished yell as he falls to his knees, the sword in hand clattering to the ground as he reaches to try and staunch the blood flow from the gash in his chest. 

A high-pitched laugh overtakes the man’s anguish, the man donned in blue still standing over his opponent and nearly snickering at his demise. You have to hold your hands to your mouth to stop you from gasping when the blue-clad man raises his sword once more. He begins hacking away at the now vanquished noble, his blows tearing into flesh more so like a butcher’s knife than a sword. There isn't skill, just a raw brutality behind every blow. 

The screams grow quiet, just wet bellows that still after a moment more. Your breath heavy and your chest heaving after watching that, you’d just witnessed that man’s murder. Wanting to get away from this situation, you fall back under the cover of the wood, your back hitting the house’s exterior as you try and keep yourself together. The man keeps hacking away, the splatter of blood on the ground and onto the nearby walls almost causing you to be sick to your stomach.

This isn't human, it couldn’t be. Sure, it’s a man committing the act but the brutality of it is more akin to a beast. It is as if they’d forgone any sense and given way into a psychotic madness. 

A coppery tinge to the air almost makes you gag; the scent of the deceased man’s blood has risen to greet you. How are you going to get out of this?

You pull your hands away from your face, the cold air meeting your skin all too unpleasantly. If you stay in place the killer would easily find you if he wants to, perhaps your best bet is to outrun him like you had the now deceased nobles. So, you brace yourself, pushing yourself up to your knees and prepare to make a dash down the alleyway and towards the opening on the other end. But as you do, you find that your joints have locked, sending you stumbling forward as you stand and knocking the sheets of wood over. With a dreadful fear encasing you, you turn to see that it hadn’t been just one man to kill the three that are after you, but two others had joined him as well, all wearing the light blue robes. All of them drenched in the blood of the fallen nobles. 

Their eyes bore into yours, smiles etching their way onto their faces as if you’ve become the lamb brought to the slaughter. You have to run, have to get away. But you can’t, your legs are locked in place out of the sheer madness of this situation. They laugh as they turn towards you, wordless in any other manner as they begin to saunter over to you, their silvery hair and reddened eyes looking almost ghostly in the moonlight.

You are going to die. You can’t even muster a scream to call out to any city patrol, nor move your limbs with how wrought with fear you are. 

Eyes closing as you begin to accept your fate, the sounds of their footsteps nearing, you can almost sense them lifting their blades to cut you down before— A whirring through the air and a grunt from one of the men in front of you has your eyes flying open. Someone had shot an arrow and hit one of the silver-haired men, causing them to stumble back a step or two. In theory, a blow like that should have downed a man, an arrow to the chest isn’t a superficial wound by any means, but it looks like the man is more angrier now rather than injured.

The trio raise their swords, their target now someone behind you, and before you're able to turn and see who or what it is, a glint of a silver blade flashes across your vision and cuts in front of you. You’re able to feel the warm blood splatter across your cheek before you register what just happened in front of you. Now the trio of men lay on the ground, dead by the looks of it, as a long gash seems to have torn across their bodies. The same queasiness from before begins to invade you as you wipe the gore from your cheek onto your sleeve, but before you’re able to do anything else about it, you hear a voice behind you.

“Is this really what we’re dealing with tonight?” It’s a sigh of disappointment, but somewhere in the tone there is almost a sound of amusement. “I wanted to take them out myself, couldn’t you have picked a different patrol group, Captain Choi?” You turn to see two men behind you, clad in the same blue as the murderers, but they look calmer, despite the one talking having a grin plastered onto his face. 

“I did my job,” the one that must be Captain Choi sighs, watching the other slinging the bow he’d used to shoot one of the men around his shoulder before moving to withdraw the sword he’d used to slay the men that had been after you. “Unlike you, I’m not getting any gratification out of this.” 

“That’s a little rude,” his partner laughs.

“You’re not even trying to hide it,” Captain Choi frowns, he carries the air as if he’s dealt with the other’s antics for quite some time. His gaze then flickers from the trio of fallen men to you.

“You know me well enough to know that I’m joking,” the other shakes his head and turns to look at you. “If you had just let them kill the kid you could’ve saved us some trouble, though.” Despite the lightness in his tone, the content of his speech made the same chill of fear creep down your spine. You’d escaped the nobles and the murderers, but now a different foe stands before you.

“Maybe,” Captain Choi notes, “but this isn’t our decision to make.”

Your brow furrows as they speak, by what they are saying it would leave you to believe that these men are a part of some sort of organization. Thinking more on it, you only knew of one group prominent enough to walk the streets of Seorabeol at night in place of any military patrol. Were these truly members of the Hwarang? 

Before you’re able to part your lips to ask, a figure rounds the corner behind the two men and makes his way over to you. He wears the same blue as them, his hair styled the same way with a headband across his forehead and his long locks held in a topknot atop his head. The other two grow silent as he approaches, denoting some sort of superiority as he stands shoulder to shoulder with them. 

His gaze travels behind you, looking at the splayed out remains, and then returns to you, a frown adorning his lips. “It doesn’t seem like luck was on your side tonight.” He speaks sharply, as if his words are whettened by the same stone that had sharpened his blade. The cold blue of the moonlight reflects off the blade in his grasp as he raises it towards your chest, sending another bolt of dread to your stomach. Although it isn't necessarily the steel pointed at your heart that makes you feel this way, it’s the way his gaze bores into you. It is cold and fierce, but there is another emotion stowed away that you aren’t fully comprehending. Mercy, maybe? The man fully seems capable of killing you instantly, but he looks somewhat troubled. “If you run, I will kill you. Do you understand?” 

You nod immediately, knowing full well that he wouldn’t back down on that statement. He stares at you for a moment longer before sighing and sheathing his sword. 

“W- What?” Too surprised to stop yourself, you blurt out the question as the man crosses his arms.

“Are you sure about this Lee?” The snarkier of the two others asks, his eyes narrowing at the one he’d called out to, “The kid saw everything, and didn't even say thanks for saving his sorry ass.”

Lee frowns, “Quiet. If you keep saying that then you know what we’ll have to do.”

With their apprehension to mention what had just occurred, it’s clear that you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to. The more they said the easier it is to figure out what they are trying to hide and no one wants that. 

“Don’t you think it’ll come back to bite us in the ass if we let him go?” With the way the Hwarang speaks it sounds as if he can read your mind.

“And so the right thing to do would be killing him? No,” Lee shakes his head, “We’ll see what to do with the kid once we get back.”

“I agree with the Commander, the longer we stay here the more likely we’re to be seen… Again.” Choi adds, moving to sheath his own sword and look at the creatures they’d slain as though he hadn’t seen them before. “If this is their reaction to blood, I don’t think they’ll have a practical use.”

“Damn…” Lee looks down to the corpses, an emotionless expression on his face before he looks back to his companions. “As for you two, stop with the ‘Lee’ and ‘commander’, we’re trying to keep a low profile.” 

“You can’t be serious, our robes are a big giveaway,” the nameless Hwarang snorts. 

“What should we do with the bodies? There doesn’t seem to be any physical signs…” Choi notes, looking at Lee.

The commander thinks for a moment, “Just take their robes, Chan can deal with the rest.” 

“Understood.”

“Another man killed in the streets of Seorabeol,” the other Hwarang sighs out before bellowing out a bark of laughter, “We’re doing a great job, aren’t we?”

“As long as we don’t talk about it, I don’t think anyone will know we were here,” Lee looks at you and you get the feeling that his words aren’t directed towards his companions. It isn't uncommon for people to be murdered in the capital, with rising tensions across the kingdoms as different factions had been popping up everywhere and leading anywhere from small to large fights. Seeing it happen is a different story. 

“Hmm, we did save you, didn’t we?” The nameless Hwarang muses as he looks at you.

Eyes widening at his statement. Despite his earlier attempts of pursuing after your death, he and Choi had saved you from the murderers. “Thank you,” you bow, hesitantly as you don’t trust them entirely. “I’m sorry for not thanking you earlier, there was just so much going on…” 

Looking back up at the three, they look almost as confused as you feel. You quickly break eye contact and look down to the ground, “It’s a little strange to say that… but he told me I should say thanks so—”

Gaze returning to the men, Lee and Choi are looking at anywhere but you while the third man is shaking with laughter.

“I guess I did tell you to, didn’t I?” He laughs again, doubling over to the point he has to wipe a few tears away from his eyes before straightening up. “You’re welcome, I’m Boo Seungkwan. Nice to meet someone who actually knows how to be polite.”

“Thanks for helping me…”

“The one you should be thanking is Captain Choi Hansol over here, and this bossy guy—” He begins again but is abruptly stopped by Lee.

“The hell do you think you’re doing, Boo?” He frowns as he turns towards Seungkwan. 

“I understand your concerns, commander, but we have to move.” Whatever pervasive happiness that had penetrated the bloodied air dissipated with Hansol’s words. 

Boo reaches out and grabs your wrist, gives you a small smirk and begins to lead you out of the alleyway and down the street. His grip is too rough and tight to be friendly, his fingers feel like stone wrapped around you. There isn't any question about the situation you now find yourself in; if you are to run you are to be killed. Your life is now in their hands and up to their discretion.

“It would be best if you prepared for the worst,” Hansol says as you traverse the streets of Seorabeol, wondering how the sight of their bloodstained robes isn’t catching anyone’s attention. “I doubt this will end well for you.” His words are sharper than the blades of cold that soar through the streets, tearing into your chest.

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 4𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The harshness of the sunlight beaming in through a nearby window pulls you from a dreamless slumber, the ground underneath you far too hard to allow you a peaceful enough rest for such frivolities. Head reeling at the events of the night prior, it isn’t until you try and rub the sleep from your eyes that you realize where you are exactly. The knot roping your hands together brushes against your wrists, the fibers of the cordage causing the skin to burn. 

Looking around the room, you realize that there isn’t anyone else present. In a way that makes you feel a little more comfortable, but again, waking up in an unfamiliar place is sure to keep you on edge. You writhe on the floor for a moment, realizing that your feet had been bound too, the blankets that had been strewn atop you falling away and pooling on the floor beside you. A dull ache in your back tells you that you’d be feeling the consequence of sleeping on such a surface for the next day or so, the twisting already signaling a crick in your neck as well. For as dull as your own home had seemed to you as a child, you miss it now more than ever. 

“This is a nightmare,” a sigh under your breath as you think to the men who you’d come across the night prior, and whatever situation they’d found you in. 

Finding the scrambling on the ground unhelpful, you lay back down, your bound hands falling atop your stomach as you stare up at the dark ceiling. 

It’s only a few moments later that you hear the gentle slide of the wooden door across from you, noting that someone is making an appearance. You try your best to sit up, looking at the face of the newcomer and realizing quickly that it isn't one of the men with whom you’d been acquainted with last night. 

“Are you awake?” a small and awkward smile as they peek their head into the room, they pause for a moment as they notice the ropes binding you. Their brow furrows as they step fully into the room, “This isn’t normally how we treat guests… If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll untie you.”

A silent nod as they approach, loosening the ropes around your ankles as you can now sit up freely, unencumbered by the restrictive ties. You note that he’d left your hands bound, you can understand why but the chafing still hurts.

“Who are you?” You question as they step back, a small smile quirking on their face as they move to kneel by your side. 

“Ah, my name’s Song Eunseok,” he says, a look overcoming him as if he’d forgotten himself for a moment. 

“Thank you… Eunseok.” Muttering out as he stands, offering out his arm to you to help you rise from the floor. 

“A few of the captains want to talk to you,” there’s something likened to a worry in his eyes, you hardly know the kid, but he reads like an open book. “If you’d just follow me…” 

And you do, walking in silence through the compound for a moment or two before the younger speaks up again. “They’ve been discussing what to do with you since they woke up. I think they’re going to try and hear what you’ve got to say and see if they’ve got to report you or not…”

“Report me?” 

“Mhm,” he nods as his feet slide over the smooth floorboards. “We’re not like the city guard or anything, so we don’t have that much jurisdiction over—” Eunseok pauses, a hand raising to his mouth as if he’s said too much. He lets out a nervous chuckle, “Well, you’ll see.”

Eunseok’s courtesy is nice, better than that of those men you’d seen last night. But it has an air to it that tells you to be cautious, you are the one impeding on their space and it is their judgment to dole out.

 As if he can tell you are on edge, the younger one says, “They might seem scary at first but they’re really not that bad.” 

The Hwarang themselves don’t have a tainted name, but you know that the ones located in the different towns and localities of Silla had varying degrees of severity. And with this being the unit of the capital, you don’t expect them to be anything less than vicious towards any perceived troublemaking. 

“You’re actually probably around the same age as our commander, well, we’re all really around the same age,” his laugh resounds around the space for a moment, his hand trailing up to his ear to toy with a small, dangling earring attached to it. “Captain Kim and Captain Wen tend to sate any tension too so I wouldn’t worry all too much.”

 Eunseok’s reassurances go partially on deaf ears as you approach what seems to be the main building. Through the hanji walls you can hear muffled chatter as the people inside are undeniably trying to decide your fate. With a steady hand, Eunseok slides open the door and motions you inside. 

You don’t need to announce yourself, as the sound of you entering causes several heads to turn in your direction. A quick glance around the room tells you that these are probably the heads of the Hwarang. Their own gazes feel like daggers, picking you apart silently and without a care other than what the hell your presence means to them. 

“I take it you slept well, then?” A voice to your right calling out to you. You turn your head to see Seungkwan, or at least that’s what he’d been referred to as last night, glaring at you with a smirk on his lips. His attire is different from last night, as were the robes of the several others you recognize standing around, more lavish than what their Hwarang uniforms had been yesterday. The red of his robes feels even more threatening to you in lieu of this situation. 

“It wasn’t… great.” A small frown as you respond, noticing his brow contort into an irritated expression. You grit your teeth, maybe it would be better to kiss up to them?

“Is that right?” His shoulders shrug, “When I went to check on you earlier you didn’t move at all, no matter how many times I tried to wake you up.” Seungkwan sighs out, “You looked like you were dead to the world.”

 You don’t say anything, feeling a rise of embarrassment in your stomach at his words.

“Don’t take what he says too seriously,” another face emerging from the mass, belonging to another man you’d met last night. You think it’s the one they’d called Choi Hansol. “Seungkwan didn’t go anywhere near your room.”

 A devilish grin spreads over Seungkwan’s face as he sees how flustered his statement has gotten you, “You didn’t need to ruin the fun that quickly, Hansol.”  

“Captain Choi didn’t do anything wrong though, you though—” a glare at Seungkwan, your fingers rubbing together as you try to find the will to butt heads with him. 

“That’s enough.” A voice cuts through your conversation swiftly, drawing your attention to the figure standing at the head of the room. Their head hangs low, as if they were just listening to the chatter before calling out. “You sound like a bunch of kids.” It is the third man from last night, Commander Lee.

“This is your witness Commander?” A new voice with a deeper tone, calls out from your left. You turn to see three men sitting together, presumably having been conversing with one another prior to your arrival. 

The notoriety of the Hwarang stems from the fact that they only chose youthful men to be a part of their organization, you can see that while glancing around to the other faces in the room. Maybe you’d expected them all to be a little older, but it seems as if the eldest is just in his late twenties or so.

“He’s just a stick,” the voice continues, you see that it looks like the younger of the trio’s talking. His hand rests lazily over his knee as he looks you over, a frown settled onto his lips. 

“You’re calling him a kid, Kwon?” One of the other men sitting snickers, “That’s funny.”

So, that’s at least one of their names. 

“Put them together and they’d look just like scared little kids,” the second speaker sighs out, head resting lazily in his hand. 

“I can call them that because I’m a mature adult, obviously.” The two begin to have a bickering discourse, glaring at one another from their seated positions.

“Mature adult?” The other barks, his hand moving from his cheek in disbelief, “Wen, I knew you weren’t smart but that’s a reach even for you.”

 Their tones aren’t angry, more so a taunting argument between two friends. It is lighthearted enough but if you’d just been passing by and not listened fully you might’ve just seen it as two people arguing. Were these the two people that Eunseok had mentioned, Kim and Wen?

“You’re just a pair of grumpy old men,” Kwon rolls his eyes, “I think you’re both going senile.” 

“You think you can get away with talking to us like that?” the one you presumed to be Wen scoffs, “I’m hardly old enough to be called old… Kim here though…”

 “I thought we were friends, you son of a bitch,” Kim looks to the other, an expression of faux hurt caked onto his brow. “And you both are older than I am.”

“Real adults, my ass,” Kwon shakes his head at the two. The back and forth between the three is certainly interesting to watch, it is almost as if they’d been going at it like this for years with one another. 

Despite their light-hearted banter, it doesn’t downplay the tension you feel encroaching on this space. This is the home of the Hwarang, and you are an outsider, foreign to them in almost every way possible. 

“I’ll apologize on their behalf,” a soft voice says, it comes from one of the men standing next to Lee. “Don’t let them unsettle you too much.” The warmth emanating from his tone is enough to make you relax even in the slightest bit, forgetting for a moment the peril you may be in. 

“Don’t kid yourself,” the Commander speaks up, shooting a glance to the other, “You’re the scariest one out of all of us, Choi Seungcheol.” You’re almost too lost in looking at the one who’d spoken to notice the number of heads nodding in agreement with Lee.

“Really? I get that from the other men but from our own demon commander?” Choi muses, his hand toying with the long strands of hair falling over his shoulder before looking at his compatriot, “I feel a little flattered. I only try to hold the Hwarang to the highest standard I can.” His hand falls away from his hair, settling to rest on the hilt of his sword fastened around his waist in such a relaxed manner you hadn’t realized he’d had it on him in the first place, “Although I suppose it’s easy to get confused when our standards… or maybe our taboos, are at your mercy.” 

“Maybe you’re right, but this isn’t the time to get into that,” Lee sighs out, a small smirk mirroring Choi’s, his gaze once again pinpointing on you after a moment. 

“You’re lucky to have a friend like that, Jihoon,” a new voice comments. The dialogue between Choi and the Hwarang’s Commander hadn’t been exactly what you would call ‘friendly’. It is cold and lacks the warmth that had flowed between the prior conversation with the other three captains. Although from the way the new face had spoken it sounds as if he had perceived the pair as such. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” he says, turning from the pair and facing you. “Sorry, my name is Kwak Youngmin, the leader of the Hwarang. Or at least, this division,” he chuckles at himself.

“So, you’re the most important man in the Hwarang?” A tilt of your head as you look at him, his presence is far less intimidating than the handful of others that had come before him.

“Well,” another short laugh, “I wouldn’t go that far. I merely represent everyone in the Hwarang. Jihoon’s the commander and Seungcheol’s more or less the colonel.”

“Don’t you think that’s important information to be divulging, Youngmin?” Jihoon cuts the other off, arms crossing over his chest as he continues to glare at you. 

“Ah,” Youngmin’s brow softens, a confusion taking over his demeanor, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Unless you want them to learn everything about us,” a grunt as Wen pushes himself up off of the floor and strides over, quickly followed by Kwon and Kim, “I think you’d better keep your mouth shut.” 

“Exactly! We don’t owe him anything,” Kwon adds, glancing over to you.

“Those are good points…” Youngmin cedes for a moment, “But it’s rude to ignore your guests, isn’t it?”

A laugh from Kim as he shakes his head, “I guess you’re right.”

Youngmin perks up ever so slightly, he’d looked dejected at Jihoon’s words and it seems as if the affirmation helped his mood. His demeanor is much more cheerful than the others, seeming to radiate a positivity that hadn’t been shed amongst the others.

Another smile flashes on his lips as he looks at you, it's brief but there’s a coolness in his gaze that tells you the newly found lightened mood is due for a change. 

“Now, let’s get back to why we’re here,” he glances at Hansol before speaking again, “Can you tell me what happened last night?”

“Last night we were on patrol when we encountered a band of thugs wandering the streets. They attacked first so we fought.” Hansol’s voice is calm as he recounts the events, calmer than you would ever be in his shoes. “A few of the men were able to subdue them,” His eyes look to you, prodding at your own take on the events that had transpired.

“I didn’t see what happened,” you insist, shaking your head as you lock eyes with the speaker.

Despite that, you can feel Jihoon’s glare boring into you. It is akin to the harshness of a parent severely scolding their child. Hansol’s expression doesn’t change, despite the pleading in your gaze, and in your peripheral vision, Seungkwan continues to smirk at you. 

“Positive you didn’t see anything?” Kwon prompts, causation enough for you to turn your attention back to him and his other two compatriots. 

“I didn’t,” you press, trying to muster as much authority in your voice as you can. 

“Hmm,” his hand moves under his chin as your eyes dart from Wen to Kim before settling back onto Kwon. “If that's the case then I really don’t see what the problem is.” 

“Didn’t Seungkwan say you helped out some of the guys?” Kim mumbles, his arms crossed as if he is deep in thought. 

Your brow furrows before you begin to shake your head once again, this time a little more vehemently, “That isn’t true.” The plastered grin on Seungkwan’s face remains, despite the accusatory glance you throw to him. “I was trying to get away from those noble thugs, or whoever they were and then some men in Hwarang robes showed up, if anything, they helped me out.”

“So, then you saw them apprehend those men?” It is lightly put, the flashes of viscera still playing in your mind occasionally. Kim is testing the waters and you are beginning to sink your own ship.

 “I…” You can’t deny it, something tells you that if they even get a whiff of inaccuracy, you’ll be in much deeper shit than you are in now. 

“If you’re not going to say anything, we can only assume you saw everything, right?” Kim questions. The silence you emit must be answer enough for him as he sighs and continues, “I can tell you’ve got an honest heart, and that’s not a bad thing, really, but…” The eeriness of that sentence puts you on edge, will the next thing that falls from his mouth be the words that would damn you? 

“I promise I won’t tell anyone what I saw!” The words fall from your lips, blithely and almost incoherent as your hands clench together. 

 “Hmm,” Seungcheol’s gentle hum resounds around the room after your outburst. “The attack doesn’t seem like it wasn’t deliberate. Yet, it also seems unlikely that you’re our enemy. Even if you have good intentions, we will still have to interrogate you... Can you handle torture?” 

Images of bodies rolled in straw mats and being beaten with wooden sticks courses through you, of what they could possibly do to you. Seungcheol’s words, despite the warmness of his voice, are cold, calculating. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, unable to respond to such a question without an air of incredulity. 

“Staying quiet is easy, but if you were captured, you’d have no loyalty to us regarding what you saw.” Hansol points out nonchalantly.

 “Let’s just kill him,” Seungkwan shrugs, almost as if the thought doesn’t carry the weight of your life, “That’s the only surefire way to not have him talk.”

“Seungkwan, that isn’t our way.” Youngmin interjects, his brow furrowing at the other, before you can protest, “We don’t run around murdering civilians.”

The other laughs, “Don’t look at me, I was only kidding.” It sure hadn’t felt like it. Nor had it sounded like it either.

“You may need to work on your delivery, then.” Hansol shakes his head, as Seungkwan chuckles with that cheshire-like grin. 

“If anything, he can’t be that much older than me,” Eunseok, who until up to this remained silent, speaks out from behind you. You hear his feet tread across the floorboards until he’s standing by your side, “That’d almost be killing a kid, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t want to kill him but choosing to ignore the unlikelihood of his untrustworthiness is very irrational,” Seungcheol frowns, his fingers toying with the butt-end of his sword. “What’s your take, Commander Lee?”

Everyone’s attention turns to Jihoon, the Commander’s lips curving down into an ever sourer grimace as the gazes’ rest upon him. He sighs before looking up and around at the different faces.  

“Last night we killed the wang-do that broke our code, this kid shouldn’t have been involved in the slightest.” It isn't an answer and it only heightens the anxiety coursing through you.

“Is that all you have to say on the matter?” Seungcheol prods.

“He probably saw something that he doesn’t understand…” Lee mutters as Wen rises to his feet. 

“Even if that’s the case this is pretty serious,” Wen’s foot taps on the floor, the light from outside glinting off his deep green robes. “We have to sweep this under the rug. If the rumor spreads that the Hwarang have turned blood-thirsty it wouldn’t sit well with the people, or the crown for that matter.” It looks as if people are taking Wen’s words to heart, a grimace overcomes Jihoon’s face as the taller continues to speak. 

“Watch it,” Jihoon fires back, “It’s our responsibility to regulate the wang-do that haven’t followed the code. We are going to do something about it.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he saw something.” Seungkwan looks at you again, but you refuse to acknowledge it.

“He does have a point,” Kim muses, “I’ll do whatever Kwak, Lee and Choi tell me to do.”

“I think we should let him go,” Kwon notes, his hand moving to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. “It’s not like he knows everything.”

“...Everything?” You question aloud and the room once again turns cold at your words. 

“I think it’d be best if you stop talking, Kwon.” Jihoon says solemnly, as the younger mutters out a brief apology. 

“Now it’s going to be a little harder to just simply let you go,” Seungkwan says pointedly, crossing his arms as you look at him briefly. 

“A man should always be ready to face death. You should make your peace with that,” Wen notes, nodding his head as if he were agreeing with his own statement. 

 A man…. The words resound around your head and it isn’t until you look down at your feet and the clothes you were wearing do you remember. Right, you’re not dressed in your typical attire, this was stolen from your father’s chest, his clothes that you had mended as you awaited his arrival. The clothes you had taken to undergo your journey to find him, the journey that had somehow led you here. It hits you that they think you’re a man. With the whirlwind of events that had led you here you’d completely forgotten about your attire and how they may have perceived you. 

“That’s true, there’s nothing wrong with a brave death. When I was younger, I committed honorable suicide,” Kim shrugs his shoulders, a humor riding his tone as he spoke of the grave topic.

“Didn’t really stick though, did it, Mingyu?” Wen snorts, giving the other captain a nudge with his shoulder before they break out into a short burst of laughter. 

“Commander, since we can’t figure out what to do, should I just send him back to his room for the time being?” Hansol asks Jihoon once the laughter has died down. “The more we leave him out here, the more likely he’s going to hear something he’s not meant to, and we’d have to kill him regardless.”

Even if Hansol hadn’t said it for your well being, a flush of relief floods through your muscles. 

“Alright, let’s do that. Besides, there’s something I need to look into.” The commander acquiesces, before looking over to Seungcheol.

“I agree, there’s a few careless voices among us, you never know what could slip.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kwon’s eyes widen as he realizes that the colonel is glaring in his direction. 

“You’ve gotta admit we’re all pretty reckless with our words, especially you, Soonyoung.” Kim huffs, begrudgingly agreeing to Choi’s observation. 

“It was just a mistake! No need to blame me for all of it,” Kwon’s voice rises as he tries to defend himself. He sighs out and glances at you, mumbling a quiet, “I’m sorry” under his breath. 

Still apprehensive about their plans with you, you can’t find it within you to respond to him in any sort of affirmative way. It still seems like he understands the intention behind your curt nod.

“Alright then, Captain Choi, take care of the kid.” The commander says as he begins to turn on his heels, heading towards a side room branching off the main hall. 

“Will do…” Hansol nods and turns to you, “Shall we go?”

After Hansol has walked you to your room in relative silence, you find yourself sitting on the floor, your hands still bound, after what seems like hours since the meeting. 

The Hwarang were esteemed because of their loyalty to the crown and their way of life, you hadn’t realized how vicious it could be. But behind all of that there is a humanity behind the veneer of the aristocratic and diplomatic traits they were meant to have. Despite it not seeming like it as of your first meeting. 

Their presence isn't that of cold-blooded killers or snotty aristocrats, the message garnered through that meeting had been along the lines of ‘We are not killers, but to protect our way of life we must bring death’. It didn’t make you feel great, but it could help you understand them a little more. 

As you sit in the room, watching the sun flit in through nearly closed shades you ponder that the longer you stay here, the less chance you have of returning to your home in one piece. They have no real right to let you go, your loyalty to them is a contract by word, not by blood. And you are sure they would recognize that sooner or later. 

If they still thought you to be a man would they still make you face that fate? Would exposing your true identity be worth mercy on your life? Even then you don’t know if the repercussions of that would be any better, it may backfire and lead to an even worse end for you. 

If possible, you would like to forgo either of those scenarios. Perhaps escaping would be your best bet...

As your feet had been left unbound, it is easy to push yourself off the ground to unsteadily rise on your feet. With your feet free it shouldn’t be nearly as impossible a feat to escape if both your feet and hands were bound. You take a deep breath before walking towards the door, thinking of how they had brought you in last night and where Eunseok had guided you to the meeting and Hansol had taken you from. It is a rudimentary enough map in your head, but you can make it work, you have to make it work.

You approach the sliding door quietly, inching your foot towards it as to open it. Before you’re able to though, it slides open and a figure almost runs face-first into you. 

“Ah-!” Youngmin stops himself so he doesn’t run into you, you take a cautionary step backwards to distance yourself from him. 

A figure peers out from behind Youngmin, Seungcheol’s eyes wide as he realizes what is going on. “Oh, you weren’t trying to escape, were you?”

“I was just…” you search for a response, but your situation is already damning enough. 

“Trying to escape isn’t really going to make your situation any less difficult,” he frowns, stepping out from behind Youngmin to stand in line with the leader. While his voice is soft, his eyes hold that same calculating glare that had scrutinized you earlier in the day. 

You think for a moment before a realization dawns on you. They hadn’t tied you up because they’ve been watching you the entire time. Maybe you should’ve figured that out sooner, but your brain is too muddled with flight or flight instinct. 

“I’ll only repeat this one more time,” a voice coming from the hall outside as two pairs of footsteps approach the room, “if you try to run, I’ll kill you.” Jihoon’s voice is stern as he rounds the corner with Seungkwan. 

“Sorry, that means we’re forced to kill you,” Seungkwan sighs, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, “We can’t let you go if you can’t keep a promise.” He doesn’t look sorry with the way a fresh smile danced along his lips as he spoke. 

Teeth gritting together you plant your feet firmly on the ground and look at the men in front of you. They aren’t presenting any favorable options to you, and if they were going to kill you anyway, the best thing you could do is try and run for it. 

By some miraculous means you’re able to push your feet from the floor, sliding around Youngmin and beginning to race down the corridor of the building. It’s not long until you feel a hand grab the back of your robes, pulling you back towards the room you’d been kept in.

“Did you really think you could escape?” Jihoon asks, sounding somewhat bewildered by the actions you’d taken. 

“Let me go!” You writhe in his grasp, trying to free yourself from his grip, but it is holding firm to you with no sign of weakness. 

“If I do that, you’ll just run off again,” he sounds annoyed now as he leads you back into the room with Seungkwan, Seungcheol, and Youngmin. 

 “I don’t want to die, though!” You say, still struggling under his hold. “There’s something I have to do!”

 “And what’s that? What’s important enough for a girl to dress up as a boy and run around Seorabeol?”

You freeze at his words, eyes widening as his grip on you goes slack. It’s given you the opportunity to run for it again, but you find yourself too stunned to move. Did he know this whole time? You turn to look at him, your mouth parting as if to say something but you can’t think of what to utter.  

“Did you just call me a girl?” You can tell by the steely glare he gives you that your feeble attempt at a lie won’t work on him. 

A small ‘huh’ and you look over your shoulder to see Seungcheol looking at you, “So you really are a girl.”

“Did you really think putting on a pair of pants and a man’s robes would fool us?” Seungkwan questions as he crosses his arms, a teasing tinge to his voice.return

“You all knew from the start?” Eyes widening, you thought your disguise had been rather good. But perhaps not as much as you had thought. 

“Kwak Youngmin you idiot,” the leader of the Hwarang mutters just loudly enough for you to hear, “How did you not realize this sooner?”

Youngmin’s reaction puts you more at ease, seeing that not everyone had seen right through your facade.

“You almost got killed for whatever you’re here for, maybe it’s time you enlighten us,” Jihoon doesn’t ask, rather demands the information out of you. 

You nod at him and the trio silently takes you back to the hall where you’d been questioned only hours prior. The rest of the men filter in from whatever they’d been doing at the compound, none of them sparing you more than a second’s glance once they walk into the large room. 

“I thought your features were a little more effeminate than most men but to think you were a lady this whole time…” Youngmin leads, his head nodding as if he’d come to the conclusion hours earlier and hadn’t only just learned your secret moments prior. 

“Once you realize she’s a girl she really doesn’t look like a guy at all, right?” Kwon muses as he looks into your eyes. 

Uncomfortable with this, you break away, looking to Eunseok who stands next to him. 

“So, we really left her tied up all night to sleep on the floor?” The younger mumbles, looking down to his feet before looking up to you and giving a very heartfelt “Sorry,” before returning his gaze to the floor. 

“Well she claims to be a girl, but it’s not like we have any real proof, right?” Wen muses as he looks at Mingyu.

“You want proof?” You fire back, eyebrows raising at the implied suggestion. 

“Would you feel better if we stripped her down?” Kim scoffs, eyes rolling at the other.

“You will absolutely not!” Youngmin interrupts, seemingly not understanding the sarcasm of Kim’s statement. “To suggest that goes against everything we stand for.”  

“It was a joke,” Kim shoots back, “But if we needed absolute proof…”

“If you are a girl though,” Wen muses, “Then I think it would feel kind of wrong just to kill you.”

“Why are all of you acting so naive? If we have to kill her, we have to kill her.” Jihoon frowns while looking over his men. 

“Exactly,” Seungcheol nods, a small frown overcoming him, “Although it’s not her gender that’s the issue. Killing in general is wrong.” Even with those words, the way his hand rests on the hilt of his sword makes an uneasy feeling lurch in your stomach, “We were organized by the crown to protect Silla and her people, killing those people in cold-blood wouldn’t put us in a favorable light.” 

“But if this girl, or boy, is a threat to the crown, that’s a whole other matter in itself.” Seungkwan notes, the sly grin on his face present once more. At this point you’re concluding this is what he normally looks like.

“I apologize,” Jihoon looks at you, “I took it upon myself to look through your things. It seems like you’ve come all the way from Toehwa-hyeon by yourself. You didn’t have much; some change, clothing, a few scraps of letters and a blade.” He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, “One of the fragments of letters was signed by Namemekawa Yasuo, I assume you saw him?” Another pause as he looks into your eyes as if he’s searching for something, “What exactly are you here for?”

When the doctor’s name is spoken, chatter begins among the men, did they know Namekawa? And it isn’t until Jihoon asks what your true purpose here, followed by your full name, does the entire room go silent.

“Commander… that name…” Wen’s eyes are wide as he addresses Jihoon. 

“It’s not just some bizarre coincidence, is it?” Kim adds on, his face looking almost as equally as confused as Wen’s.

“Now, let’s hold on for a moment,” Youngmin tries to calm the room’s mounting tension. He looks to you, a weary expression on his brow as he continues, “We need to determine if you are a threat. Why did you come to Seorabeol?” 

At Youngmin’s behest you move forward to speak, with a quiet voice you announce your name, and the chatter begins quietly once more for a moment. Once it settles down you speak again, “My father is a doctor in Toehwa-hyeon. I traveled from my home there in search of him as I haven’t heard from him in several months. The last time we spoke he said he was traveling here, the capital, for work.” 

“You’re from Toehwa-hyeon as well?” A small smile dances along Youngmin’s lips, “And you came all of this way to find your father? Who is he?”

“I am the daughter of Physician Heo Jinsang.” You answer shortly, not fully expecting their reactions. 

They don’t seem angry, rather sate in their realization of something.

“So, it’s all piecing together,” Jihoon sighs out.

“The handwriting does match Jinsang’s but… To think you were his daughter,” Seungcheol’s gaze furrows at you as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Do you know my father?” You ask as you turn to look from Seungcheol to Jihoon.

“You’ve been withholding information from us?” Jihoon’s voice, now angered, calls out to you. It’s accusatory in nature and you can’t begin to fathom as to why.

“I… What?” A step backwards at the intensity of his words, your heart begins to pound in your chest as the next words flow from his lips like a torrent from an incensed river. 

 “There’s no point in lying now!” His gaze hardens, voice unrelenting in its authority, “What the hell are you doing in Seorabeol?!” 

 “I just came to look for my father.” You protest, your muscles tense as the commander takes a step towards you.

“No, you came into this city fully aware of what your father is doing, didn’t you?” Jihoon’s presence itself is harsh, unsettling as his heightening anger bores directly from his voice and to your ears, trying to dig up secrets that were unknown even to you.

“I was told that he was traveling here for medical work, I haven’t seen him in months!” Voice almost cracking under the stressful strain of trying to prove your innocence to them, your heart grows heavy at the thought of committing a crime just from being someone’s daughter. 

“Jihoon, it may be better to leave her be. She may not know anything…” Seungcheol interjects, stepping forward to place a hand on Jihoon’s forearm. 

A reprieve from the interrogation allows you to collect your breath and pose a question of your own, “So what do you know about my father? Do you know where he is?”

“The Hwarang are currently trying to find the location of Physician Heo Jinsang.” Hansol responds with a flat tone, as if he’s not trying to interject any emotion or his own opinion into the matter.

“You’re after my father?” A furrowed brow as you look at him. What exactly had your father done?

“It’s not like that… We’re not after him, per se.” Seungkwan interjects by shaking his head.

“I see…” A small exhale of air that you hadn’t realized you were holding escapes you, a slight weight lifted from your shoulders. 

 “He’s a supporter of the crown but he disappeared a little while ago.” Seungkwan explains. 

 “There’s a chance a few Baekje loyalists have identified him as a threat,” Hansol adds after Seungkwan has finished speaking. 

 “Really?” You frown, beginning to think the worst before Hansol begins to speak again.

 “Of course, there’s a chance that he’s still alive, there are a few Tang-trained physicians in Silla at the moment.” He notes, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Youngmin, what do you think we should do? Would it be in our interest to help her because we’re both looking for her father?” Seungcheol questions as you feel your heart about to burst from the anxiety of this situation. 

 “What do you mean by ‘help her’?” Youngmin asks, one of his hands resting on his hip as he looks to the colonel. 

 “I think it would be in our best interest to cooperate with her until we find Heo,” Seungcheol’s lips purse, it looks like he’s already thinking of ways to find your father but you can’t be too sure. “With her help I’m sure our chances of finding him will increase drastically. It may prove fruitless to look for him if he’s in disguise. However, you are his daughter, you should be able to recognize him no matter how he’s disguised himself, right?” Seungcheol looks to you inquisitively, his head tilted to the side and his eyes wide in question. 

 You nod, “Of course.” 

“What do you say Jihoon?” Youngmin turns to look at the commander, “Seungcheol is making some sense of this mess.”

“If she really doesn’t know anything…” Jihoon hums, looking at you warily. 

“I really don’t, all I know is that he was headed here for work but I really don’t know anything else—” You huff, “And about last night, I didn’t see anything, I promise!” 

Jihoon huffs out a sigh as his eyes narrow, “Well, if she really is his daughter, we can’t really kill her, can we?” He watches your reaction for a moment more before continuing, “If you promise to not talk about the events of last night, we’ll let you stay here until we find your father. Fair?”

“I can promise that the Hwarang will do whatever we can to find your father,” Youngmin adds with something of a reassuring smile. 

“Thank you,” you say and bow as deeply as you can, thankful for their gratitude and, most of all, them deciding that your life hadn’t needed to be halted. You’d found your first lead in finding your father, and it seems they are actively looking for him as well. 

“You must be glad we’re not killing you,” Seungkwan quips, “not yet anyway.” That same snide grin encapsulating his lips, as you frown at him. In no way is your position desirable, but you were alive and, on your way, to finding your father.

“More than glad,” you snip back at him. 

“I’m happy we didn’t have to kill you,” Eunseok sighs out, “or turn you into the Crown. My brother’s a guard there and he says it’s awful.”

“Oh, really?” You ponder on that for a moment, thinking of what may have happened if the official patrol had found you instead of the Hwarang. 

“Hm, Eunseok? With her being a lady, I’m not sure the compound is equipped for all her needs. It’s not as if we have Wonhwa anymore…” Youngmin frowns as if he’s just realized an all male domicile may not be the best suited for you.

“That’s a good point…” Eunseok mutters.

“If you need anything you only have to ask,” Hansol nods, “We will do what we can to accommodate you.”

“Thank you, Hansol.” You nod and turn to look at who’s just begun to speak.

“I guess if you are a girl, we’ll have to be nicer to you, huh?” Wen says, a nervous laugh escaping him.

“Hah,” Kwonsnorts at him, “didn’t take long for you to change your attitude, huh, Jun?” 

“It’ll be a nice change of pace though, brighten things up a bit from all of your guys’ shit,” Kim scoffs at the two of them.

Your brow furrows, not fully believing that sentiment as the trio begin bickering with another once more. 

“Everything may not be up to standards here for a lady,” Seungcheol sighs, almost sounding embarrassed at the state of the place, “You’re not a soldier so we can’t fully expect to treat you as such.”

“Then make her an assistant or something.” Jihoon suggests, “Do you need a page, Youngmin? Or you, Seungcheol?”

“It’s your idea, Lee,” Seungkwan pipes up once more, a teasing tinge to his voice, “you can’t just drop her onto someone else.” 

“That’s perfect, we can entrust Jihoon with her,” Youngmin smiles, playing along with Seungkwan’s antics.

“That settles it, I think,” Seungcheol nods, trying to suppress a laugh as he looks at the increasingly flustered commander. 

“You— You can’t just decide like that!” Jihoon barks angrily as those around him laugh. Their back and forth, while humorous to them, caused the relief you felt prior to chip away little by little with each of their jabs. 

It is eventually decided that you are to be Lee Jihoon’s page, if only for the time being, until your father is found. Rather than immediately give you a task to accomplish, the commander sends you back to your room, assuming that you probably hadn’t had a restful night and that your pagely duties would start the next morning. 

“I brought some clothes for you to change into,” a voice calls out from behind your closed door, it sounds like Eunseok. “The ones you’re wearing were a little bloodstained and I figured you might want to change,” he says as you allow him entry. 

“Thank you, Eunseok,” you nod as he sets down the pile of cloth on a nearby tabletop. “Do you think I’ll be here for very long?” 

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment, “I’m not sure. I know we’ve been looking for your father for a while now, but with you joining us I’m sure it’ll help us out immensely.”

“I see…” you sigh as he begins to make his leave. “Thanks again, Eunseok.” 

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “I’ll see if I can get some food brought to your room if you don’t want to join us for dinner yet.”

“Alright,” you nod and Eunseok exits your room, closing the door behind him as you’re left alone once more. As you rise to your feet and move your now unbound hands to reach out for the clothes the younger had brought, you can’t help but notice the dirt and dried gore adorning your hands. Had all this happened within a day of arriving in the capital? It feels surreal, almost like a dream that you haven't woken up from yet.

But as the hours passed, it is more and more obvious that this is now your home for the time being. And all the men, and their strange characters, are your company. 

You sigh as you begin to undress yourself, wondering when and how the mystery of your father’s disappearance will be solved.

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SEVENTEEN - DK

VERNON LOLLAPALOOZA BERLIN

Delayed

AN: I have been wanting to write about this hair since Super, and now I finally have the motivation and time. Super Jeonghan, you will always be famous to me. The Jeonghan brainworms are very severe right now.

Synopsis: Tonight is arguably one of the important dinners in the kingdom's history. It could make or break relations with the Wen family. Your husband, however, is much more interested in dragging you to bed than building political alliances at the moment.

General tags and warnings: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem! Reader, established relationship, implied arranged marriage, hinted at former enemies to lovers, extremely vague historical AU, royalty AU and there is zero plot here.

Smut tags and warnings: dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), Reader gets edged once, petnames, having children gets brought up once and it's mostly a joke, nipple and breast play (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), piv sex without a condom and creampie.

Word count: 2.5k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

“Your brother is going to lecture our ears off if we're late,” you remind Jeonghan, trying your best not to lose yourself in the way his hands drag along your sides and the way he breathes in your freshly washed hair. 

“Who cares what Joshua thinks?” he mutters dismissively into your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake, “I'd much rather spend my evening with you instead of at that dinner filled with people I can't stand,” he finishes off, teasing the hem of your robe with his long fingers. 

“As sweet of a sentiment as that is, we have guests from the Wen family visiting. We can't just not show up,” you argue, still remaining in his arms and shuddering when his lips press against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You bite back a whimper when one of his hands continues to trail higher up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your robe out of the way as much as he can to expose as much of your skin as possible to his scorching touch. Jeonghan is arguably the smartest man you know. Hell, you'd go as far as to say he's the smartest man in the nation. You're well aware he's just trying to sway you right now but, you can't pretend he's not being very convincing right now. 

“You've got me there,” he concedes but, his hand doesn't slow in the slightest, “We'll just be a little late, that's all,” he whispers and you swear you've never heard a more tempting offer in your life. It's so much worse when he spins you around to face him. As though you weren't feeling dizzy and lightheaded enough. The lust in his eyes shines brighter than the moon outside of your bedroom window. The charcoal one of his servants applied around them amplifies his want that causes your own desire to flare up viciously. And to think, a year ago you couldn't stand this man and struggled to imagine yourself liking him in any capacity. 

How things have changed. 

“You're a terrible influence,” is all you say before pulling him by his own robe and smashing your lips together. You resist the impulse to roll your eyes when you feel him chuckle against your lips. Fortunately, his hands do a fantastic job of distracting you from his smugness. Nimble fingers untying the knot at the front of your robe with practiced ease. It doesn't quite pool around you but, it does grant your husband all the access he needs. Warm hands wasting no time in kneading and massaging as much of your tits as he's able to. Groaning into your mouth when he feels your hardened nipples underneath his palms. 

“They can't be mad at us for being late anyway,” he mumbles against your lips, “They've been harassing us for an heir for months now. We're just fulfilling our royal duties.” You laugh harder than you anticipate. Your laughter doesn't deter Jeonghan, though. His attention simply shifts to kissing along your jaw and running his hands along your body as though this is the first time he's touching you. As though he didn't have those same hands on you this morning. Out of everything you've learned about him these last few months, his seemingly bottomless lust has caught you the most by surprise. 

“You're ridiculous,” you finally manage to say once you've calmed down sufficiently, allowing your fingers to play with the ends of his hair while his mouth reacquaintes itself with your neck. “Am I wrong?” He asks brazenly, briefly shooting you a look that's equal parts exasperated and knowing before continuing with his very important task of mapping your body with as much of his lips and hands as possible.

“No, you're not,” you concede, letting him pull you towards your ridiculously ornate bed, “but, you're not doing a great job of trying to sway me into believing you suddenly care about your royal duties,” you say with a smile that hurts your face a little. “What? A man can't change his mind?” He asks with faux seriousness. 

“He can but, maybe he should change it another time. Not when we're meant to be getting dressed for a dinner that's very important for the future of our kingdom,” you muse, joining him on your silk sheets and letting him palm your thighs and litter your collarbone with messy kisses. “We'll make it,” he says with so much certainty that you really can't find it within yourself to disagree or argue with him. Especially not when his hand is making its way up your inner thigh, “We just have to be quick and efficient, that's all.” 

Jeonghan doesn't give you much time to digest his words. Dragging you into another impassioned kiss while his fingers brush your delicate folds. He swallows your quiet gasps eagerly. Devouring every sound the swipes and presses of his fingers pluck from you. “I tho–thought you said we had to hurry,” you whine when he continues to toy with you. His touches far too light and far too quick, not allowing you a second to savour them. “You're right, you're right. My apologies.” He has the nerve to chuckle into your mouth but, any snark you're about to unleash on him is forgotten instantaneously when he finally presses his fingertips to your clit with enough pressure to make your eyes flutter and your hands fist his robe. 

“Han–Hannie,” you whimper, allowing yourself to get lost in his skilled fingers and mouth. The thought of political dinners completely vanished from your mind. His mouth finds its way to your neck, kissing along your jugular before descending to your collarbone. You're certain that he could kiss every part of you over and over and over again and it would still never be enough for him. He pushes two fingers into you at the same time that he latches onto your hardened nipple. Dark eyes watching you under his lashes as his mouth draws breathy gasps of his name (well, attempts of his name) and his fingers gradually open you up for him. 

Not one to be outdone, you find enough coherence to palm him through his undergarments. Pride swelling in your chest when you feel his fingers falter and his quiet groan pressed into your skin. He's already so hard and the urge to sit on him and swallow his cock to its hilt grips you violently. So violently in fact that it doesn't take much more prompting for you to slip your hand into his undergarments and grasp him directly. Your walls squeezing around his fingers in time with the way he pulses in your hand. 

“You're going to be the death of me,” he hisses, finding his composure rather quickly (because of course he does) and curling his fingers inside you in the way he knows will make stars dance in your vision. Frankly, you wouldn't be shocked if he was a warlock because the reactions he pulls from you are not normal in the slightest. “You ah started all of th–this,” you remind him, gradually stroking him and delighting in the way his cock throbs in your palm with every movement. It's always lovely to be reminded that he's just as far gone for you as you are for him. 

Jeonghan chooses not to respond. Electing instead to increase the intensity of the way his fingers curl inside of you and covering your breasts in kisses while he shallowly thrusts into your hand. It's all messy and barely coordinated but, you find the tension in your core building. Every brush of your clit, every touch of his fingers, every kiss and lick of his mouth just pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You're sure he can feel the way your thighs quiver and the lack of focus you're able to provide to his slick cock in your hand. It's so close that you can practically taste it. 

And just like that, Jeonghan pulls his drenched fingers out of you. 

You're not sure when your eyes shut but, they fly open within an instant. Shooting your husband with a look that you're sure is equal parts betrayal and frustration. You can't help the way your hips jolt, searching for any sort of stimulation. Instinctively looking for anything to help ease the fluttering of your walls and the incessant pulse of your clit.

“Jeonghan.” 

He does at least look a little ashamed but, not enough for your liking. You can still see the amusement too clearly in his eyes. “I'm sorry, love,” he doesn't sound sorry in the slightest, “You know I can't help myself sometimes,” he says with an upturn of his lips that makes your stomach twist horribly and your ache between your thighs worsen. “Let me make it up to you,” he offers, maneuvering his way between your thighs before you can blink and recognise he's no longer in your grasp. Gods, you know his hair is going to be ruined by the time the two of you are finished but, you truly hope not. He's looked otherworldly before but, seeing him from this angle is an entirely different experience altogether. You've got to slip his servants a generous amount of gold coins in thanks. 

His kiss is gentle this time. A stark contrast to the way you can feel his tip prodding at your dripping, eager entrance. “I love you,” he sighs before pushing into you and, you really don't think that's all that fair. You really did marry a dirty trickster of a man. “Always so eager and ready for me,” he continues, his voice hoarse with desire as he finds his pace and all you can do is cling to his back for some form of grounding, “My beautiful, lovely, brilliant, erotic wife,” he grits out, one of his hands gripping your hip fiercely. 

It's hard to think of anything other than his gorgeous face twisted in the most arousing expressions you've ever seen in your life and the way his cock drags along the deepest, most intimate parts of you. You knew you were close before but, a few thrusts already have you dangerously teetering on the edge. “You're so unfair,” you gasp out while he focuses his attention on nipping at your throat while twisting and tugging at your nipples with those stupidly skilled fingers of his. 

“Unfair?” He laughs breathlessly, meeting your lidded gaze with his own, “Maybe you shouldn't have seduced me with that flimsy robe of yours,” he argues. The following snap of his hips is sharp and you can't really find it in you to respond. Grasping his own robe for purchase as the tension in your core begins to reach a fever pitch. “How was I meant to stop myself when you looked like that?” He rasps into your ear and you think it's deeply unfair how many of your weaknesses he's learned and, is using against you. He chuckles into your skin when all you're able to reply with are choked gasps and whines of his name. You can feel him smile into you when you jolt just as he presses his fingers to your swollen clit. Not giving you a chance to collect yourself before he rubs circles into you that cause your thighs to shake violently and your walls to tighten around him. 

“You wanted to cum, right?” His tone is teasing and you swear you hate him. It's difficult to speak when you can practically taste your climax with every touch of his fingers and stroke of his cock, “I want you to,” he breathes, a touch of desperation to his tone, “I want to feel it when you do. Want to feel you cum all over me, all around me,” he whispers straight into your ear and you can already feel the beginnings of electricity shooting down your spine, “I need to.” 

You're not sure what causes the cord to snap entirely. His cock? His fingers? His words? His voice? Him? You're not sure it really matters, ultimately. Your breaths turn to gasps and whimpers moans of his name while your thighs quiver around his slender hips. Every extremity tingling with the lightning you can feel coursing through you as Jeonghan continues his movements even through your mind numbing orgasm. You're too lost in a daze to make out what he's saying but, the bleary vision of him with his carefully styled hair sticking to his sweaty face and his smeared, charcoal liner make your stomach swoop all the same. 

“–beautiful you are,” are the rushed words you do manage to catch just as his grip on your hips grows harsher and his face morphs in pleasure. Jeonghan's stamina is impressive. Another aspect of him that you never quite expected. And usually, you'd be more than happy to let him continue making love to you until you both pass out but, you both have duties to attend to.

Jeonghan isn't the only one who has picked up a trick or two over the course of your marriage. 

Using what little energy you have left, you wrap your arms around him. Jeonghan lets you pull him closer to you, his breath stuttering when you intentionally clench your walls around him and drag your fingernails along the parts of scalp that aren't covered in hair clips. “Hannie,” you add an extra bit of whine in your voice, reveling in the way you feel him shudder and his cock throb inside of you, “Love you, Hannie.” He makes a noise you barely register before kissing you fiercely and holding you in place as he snaps his hips faster and faster, his blunt nails digging into your skin and your kiss being more tongue and spit than anything else. 

You're not sure what pushes him over the edge but, it's not long before he moans long and quietly into your mouth and you feel his cock shoot rope after rope of his release into you. The warmth that fills you is familiar and just so him that you can't help the soft whines that fall from your lips as you feel him ride out his climax. You can tell he's trying his best to not just collapse onto you but, the shakiness in his arms is evident and he's practically on you already. A small laugh bubbles out of you and you can't help but, smile when he shoots you a curious look.

“What?” He asks, running his thumb along the marks his nails left on your hip. 

“You can rest on me if you want to, beloved husband,” your face hurts from how much you're smiling. You must look insane, “You won't crush me.” 

Either he's just as insane as you are or he shares your bizarre sense of elation right now because he smiles right back at you before responding, “I thought we had a dinner to attend?” You decide to ignore how attractive he looks with his eyebrow raised. 

“We're already running late anyway. What's a few more minutes?” 

He really has become a terrible influence. 

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