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𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 ||𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔳

pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical innacuarcies for the sake of plot progression word count: 27.7k taglist: @hipsdofangirl, @reiofsuns2001

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 22𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 A thin line of perspiration coats your brow as you juggle carrying a tray stacked with dishes and teacups towards the main hall. The captains were having their weekly meeting now that everyone had a moment to gather, and you had been tasked with plying the food and tea. Excusing yourself softly, you step inside, gently setting the tray down onto the nearest tabletop and begin distributing the plates and cups.

Once done, you go about pouring tea for the captains, quickly moving from one to another so as to not disrupt the flow of the meeting. Glancing at the floor, you notice a few wayward petals that must have been swept in here as the captains congregated. With spring finally beginning to spur into motion you mentally note that you’ll have to be more vigilant in your sweeping and dusting away of the blooms and pollen to come.

“Thank you,” Youngmin says quietly after you’ve begun pouring his cup. 

You give him a small nod and then move to Gongmyung, “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” he says quickly, turning his attention back to Jihoon.

The air of the room is somewhat electric, perhaps because Gongmyung had brought along his followers to the meeting. 

“That’s all there is to report,” Jihoon states once he’s finished his spiel. “Anyone have anything else to add?”

“Not worried or anything, but have you noticed how lively the city’s been recently?” Mingyu notes. “It’s got me excited.”

“I noticed that too,” Hansol adds with a curt nod. 

“Don’t tease him, Hansol.” Seungkwan laughs, “Festival or not, Jun finds the city entertaining all year round.”

“I didn’t mean Junhui was lively– I was talking about the city.” Hansol frowns.

“One in the same, really,” Seungkwan huffs.

“Aw, you guys are going to make me blush,” Junhui says playfully. 

A snort from Mingyu, “No one here’s complimenting you. We’re just talking about the atmosphere.”

“Poor Junhui,” Seungkwan laments with a shake of his head. He then perks up, “Is there a festival coming up soon? Do you know, Gyu? I’m sure they talk about it at your drinking halls.”

“No idea,” Mingyu shakes his head.

“It’s probably for the spring festival at Bomun Lake,” Youngmin interjects himself into the conversation. “We may have people staying in the capital from Samjinnal as well. The King reinstated it to boost morale this year.”

“That would make sense,” Hansol says, looking at Junhui who looks ready to burst.

“Does that mean we can have permission to go?” He buzzes, “It’s been forever since I’ve been to a festival!”

“Festivals have nothing to do with our jobs,” Jihoon barks out with a frown. “We need to be more alert than usual. Our enemies might take advantage and use the commotion to cause more issues.”

“I agree with the commander,” Kangjoon adds. 

“Ah,” Soonyoung sighs out with disappointment, “Way to be a buzzkill.”

“Are you sure?” Gongmyung asks Jihoon, “It’s a special festival, the King himself reimplemented it. Should we not celebrate too?”

The moment the words leave him, tension makes the air thicker in the room.

“You’re suggesting that we slack off and go–?” Kangjoon prods.

“Right.” Gongmyung smirks, “We aren’t just warriors. It’s a good opportunity for the men to reflect and celebrate, and get out of their Hwarang robes for a while.”

Dongyoung laughs, “I don’t think they can do that, especially those three idiots over there.” His eyes flash to Mingyu, Soonyoung and Junhui.

“What the fuck did you call us?” Mingyu raises his voice.

“I didn’t say any names,” a smirk dances on his lips, “Or maybe you’re aware that you’re an idiot?”

“Dongyoung,” Gongmyung’s stern voice rips at him, “That’s enough.” 

“My bad,” Dongyoung chuckles, “I’m so honest my mouth sometimes says what I think before I can stop it.” 

Mingyu grumbles something while Kangjoon begins to talk once more, “It would be a good opportunity to better our relationship with your men, Gongmyung. Since we’ve been more and more noticed by the Crown, wouldn’t it be best to show off how cultured and mannered we are?”

“I don’t think that’s our current priority.” Jihoon states sharply. 

“I–” Kangjoon clears his throat, “I suppose maybe we don’t need to participate in our current… situation.”

“It’s precisely because of our situation that we should participate.” Gongmyung insists. “With the increased vigilance, the men deserve some sort of distraction, right Gukseon Kwak?”

“Ah? Oh, um… Yes…” It seems difficult for Youngmin to choose a side. “It is well deserved…”

A small ‘tch’ from Gongmyung before he laves compliments, “That’s right. I expected that answer from someone as qualified as you.”

Mingyu lets out a long sigh of relief, “I can already smell the gokaju and hwajeon.”

“Is that all that has your interest?” Seungkwan rolls his eyes. 

“If it’s drinking sanctioned by the Hwarang, I’m all in,” Mingyu nods. 

There’s some more chatter about the festival before the sound of several pairs feet treading down the hallway draws everyone to look at the doorway as Lee Chan peers in. “Are Gukseon Kwan and Commander Lee here?”

“What is it, Chan?” Jihoon beckons him inside, peering behind him to see a few other faces, “Dohoon, Junghwan, Wonwoo… What happened?” The tension that had been building in the room prior heightens as you see the stern faces Chan and the others are making. 

“The warriors sent to receive our monthly stipend from the palace were attacked and robbed of their money on the way back,” Chan reports, straightening himself. 

“What?!” Jihoon rises to his feet, a look of incredulity on his face.

“They tried to apprehend the culprits but they lost sight of them in the crowd,” Dohoon frowns. 

“Attacking a Hwarang warrior in the streets of Seorabeol and stealing our money…” Youngmin also rises to his feet. With how angry he looks, it’s almost as if he’s another person. 

“This is personal. If we let it pass, we’re going to lose face.” Jihoon looks at Youngmin. He then glances around at the captains, “You all, catch that criminal at all cost!” The captains agree with varying degrees of yeses before the commander continues, “But do not let the other men and the wang-do know it’s stolen. Only the ones in this room can handle the situation, is that clear?”

“Understood,” Hansol nods as he stands. 

“Then let’s devise a plan immediately.” Youngmin states calmly, the angered look still playing on his face as they discuss their roles and area of search.

“With that much money, the culprit won’t stay in Seorabeol for long.” Chan notes. “He may be on the move as we speak.

“He could already be out of the city,” Hansol adds.

“Maybe we should focus on swordsmen trying to leave Seorabeol,” Jihoon muses.

“What use could a swordsman have with that much money?” Junhui huffs.

“Alcohol, women,” Mingyu lists, “Nothing too erudite.” 

“Then we should monitor Noseo-dong, there would be a chance he’s there, right?” Soonyoung questions.

“If he’s walking around with a lot of money, he’s going to stand out.” Hansol states. “Isn’t it better to assume he bought something with it that he could easily turn back into money later?”

“A sword or something made of gold, maybe,” Jihoon mutters.

“I wonder why the swordsman picked today specifically,” Gongmyung ponders, his hand resting under his chin, “Perhaps they knew we were getting paid.”

“So you think it was one of our men?” Kangjoon looks over to him. 

“It’s possible. With the new shortages, we’ve gained more green warriors without checking their backgrounds as strictly,” Dongyoung smirks, aiming to poke.

“Criticizing us isn’t going to solve the problem,” Soonyoung retorts. 

You look to Jihoon, who seems to be taking all of it in quietly. His brow furrows before he begins speaking once more, “Okay. We don’t have much time. I’m going to decide who’s doing what…”

He goes on to explain the role of each captain in great detail, once received, they all begin preparing to leave. It just leaves you and Jihoon alone, you hadn’t been a part of the discussion in the first place, only stopping in to deliver tea and snacks. Yet now that you've heard everything, perhaps you can help.

“Commander Lee…” You speak out, your voice cracking after not having used it the entirety of the last half-hour or so.

“Ah,” he seems almost surprised as he turns to you. “You’re still here. Can you clean up the dishes?”

“Of course,” you nod quickly, “Is there anything else I can do? About the stolen money… Can I help?”

“You?” His eyebrow quirks upward, “What can you do about it?”

“I’d like to help speak with the swordsmen that are leaving the capital,” you answer and immediately his shoulders slump downward.

“Not so fast– You can’t go out by yourself. Do you really think you can pry into roaming swordsmen’s affairs?”

It does sound a bit bold coming from you. But you can’t resist the urge to help, “I can’t be as efficient as the rest of you, I’m very aware of that… But that doesn’t make me any less than you. I want to know who did it too. That’s why I want to help.”

Jihoon looks at you intently, almost as if he’s testing your resolve and you stare right back at him. After a moment of silence, he relents, “You’ve got the wit of a Hwarang, that’s for sure.” A small smile plays on his lips as he continues, “We are shorthanded, so you’re going to have to work with us for the time being.”

You try hard to hide the smile threatening to break free, “... Thank you so much.”

A moment later he calls out for Eunseok, asking if he could take you to where the negotiations with the officials are happening. It isn’t what you had in mind, but if you’re helping you’ll gratefully follow the Hwarang.

As the two of you near the edge of the city, Eunseok sighs, “I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

“Me either,” you frown as a bead of sweat trails down your neck. Your job is to look for any suspicious swordsmen trying to quickly leave the city from the southern gate. The two of you had gone to the magistrate’s office and the Watch to ask for information but neither of the two entities were of any help.

“If we were honest, perhaps they would have cooperated more,” Eunseok wonders aloud.

“That’s true,” you nod in agreement, “but we need to be careful about who knows…”

“You’re right,” he taps his foot on the ground. “Many of the men from the Guard have been incensed since Jihoon stopped them from directly interfering with Wonweol.”

Being more successful meant more opportunities to be envied and hated. The jealousy seems to always be pitted in the Watch and Guard’s stomachs. “What should we do next?”

“I think our best course of action is to return to Jihoon, at least for now,” Eunseok says and begins walking back in the direction of the compound. “Perhaps another captain was more successful than we were.”

As you begin to join him, you see several swordsmen chatting together on the other side of the street. 

“–expected it to go smoothly!” One of them laughs.

“It was so easy,” the one next to him chortles. “Ever since Ongsan they’ve been lacking men, it’s laughable.”

“Eunseok are you hearing–” you begin but notice that he’s already listening intently to the men.

“Shit, you’re talking too loudly,” the first man says, “We need to get out of this city as fast as possible, not let everyone know we’re here.”

The two men begin to walk away, bantering with one another.

“They must be who we’re looking for,” Eunseok frowns, watching the men. His hand flexes over the hilt of his sword as you begin to turn on your heels.

“I’ll let Commander Lee know!” You’re already beginning to run off when he calls out after you.

“It’s a ways back to Bulguksa–! Be careful!”

“I will!” You shout back, “Please don’t lose sight of them!”

With as much strength as you can muster, you race back to the compounds. By the time you reach them, the sun is sinking, dyeing the sky a vibrant red.

“A– Are you alright?!” You hear Junghwan clamor as you approach, your breaths running ragged and your chest heaving trying to collect enough air. “What’s wrong?!”

“I need to speak with the Commander… Immediately…” Your voice comes out in strained pants.

“He’s in his study– I’ll go and get him.” Jungwan says, letting you recuperate while he runs off to find Jihoon. A few moments later Junghwan returns with the commander in tow and you relay what you had seen and heard. 

“We ought to have made you a messenger rather than my page,” Jihoon lauds you with a small smirk. His face begins to harden as he thinks of a plan to retrieve the stipend safely from the thieves, “I’ll let the others know and send them to support Eunseok.”

“Then I’ll go back to Eunseok first,” you say, knowing that leaving him alone while trying to track those men could get him in trouble.

“Don’t be an idiot– Are you planning on retrieving the money yourself?” Jihoon questions you with a frown. “Even if you get there first, what help are you going to offer him?”

You mirror his frown, knowing that he’s speaking the truth: what could you do? You wield no authority in the city and certainly aren’t as adept in swordsmanship or negotiating to get through to the thieves.

“I’ll get to Eunseok,” Jihoon states, “You find the others and join us when you’re done… And good job, by the way. If we can resolve this thanks to you, you’ll get the credit.” Without another word he leaves, heading towards the front gate hurriedly. 

All of the credit…? You hadn’t found the culprits by yourself, you’d only told Jihoon that you had come upon them with Eunseok. It still warms you that Jihoon had praised you, but it wasn’t just your doing. 

With Jihoon now on the way to the city proper, you go to find the other Hwarang. It takes you some time, with night falling as you lead them to where you’d last seen Eunseok. 

“You say that you saw the men here earlier today?” Youngmin asks, his face illuminated by lanterns adorning one of the nearby shop’s entrances.

“Yes,” you nod, “They were here.” Glancing around, you don’t see Eunseok or the swordsmen anywhere nearby.

“Ah, I thought I heard you two,” a voice calls out as they round the corner, “There you are.” Wonwoo walks in tandem with Junghwan as they approach.

“The captains are hiding out in the forest a little ways away from Bomun, we’re to tell anyone showing up to go and join them,” Junghwan nods.

“Then let’s get to it,” Youngmin says quickly and begins to walk.

After a short distance along a heavily forested road on the outskirts of Seorabeol you finally find them. Wonwoo glances at you, raising a finger to his lips to tell you not to make a sound. All of you continue to walk a bit more.

“Commander,” Wonwoo whispers into the quiet night, “Everyone should be here now.”

“Thanks for showing them the way,” Jihoon says quietly. 

“Are the culprits nearby?” Youngmin asks and Jihoon motions his chin to a path parallel to the one that you’re on. Even squinting, you can’t see anything in the density of the trees and the opaqueness of night. Yet you can hear voices rising over the crickets and cicadas crying out.

“A third!?” A voice, one you recognize as a man from earlier, shouts out angrily. “I’m the one who risked my neck for the damned operation!”

“What?! I’m the one who went undercover!” The second man from earlier shouts. “Investigated the Hwarang while you sat on your ass!”

Another voice that wasn’t with them prior now shouts, “Calm down you idiots! You’ve got a ton of money, why’re you fighting over nothing?!”

Jihoon’s expression grows more disgusted the longer he listens, a snarl of anger ripping across his face, “Can’t agree on their share, huh? Well it isn’t as if they’ll need it in their next life.”

“I’ve been scouting around and I believe it to be just those three,” Dohoon reports. You nearly jump at how quiet he’d been on his approach. 

“Let’s get this over with then,” Jihoon huffs and then motions forward, addressing his men, “Surround them!”

As soon as he gives the command, the Hwarang start running, surrounding the swordsmen. 

“W-What!” One of the men shouts as he eyes the blue robes, “There’s no way you could have gotten here so fast!”

“You shouldn’t have tried to swindle the Hwarang!” Jihoon barks back at him, unsheathing his sword and pointing it towards the three men. “Did you truly think you wouldn’t face any repercussions?!”

“Bastard,” one of the men clenches his teeth and draws his own blade, “I guess we’ll just have to fight our way out!”

“You’re stupid if you think you can win while outnumbered,” Dohoon snickers, a glint of moonlight reflecting off of his blade.

“Do not cut them down,” Jihoon orders, “Capture them and we’ll let the King’s justice sentence them.”

And with that, the Hwarang rush the thieves.

The men, who put up a small fight, are eventually captured and taken to a prison somewhere near the palace. After that, the Hwarang filter back to the compound after retrieving the stipend and not much is said about the excitement of the evening until the next morning. Kwak Youngmin calls all of those who aided in rounding up the thieves into the main hall, beaming at them as they enter, you included.

“Thanks to everyone’s cooperation, we were able to get our money back!” He grins, clapping his hands together. “To celebrate, we decided to allow an evening to celebrate the spring festival!”

“Yesss!” Junhui pumps his fist into the air, “I knew I could count on you, Kwak!”

Soonyoung joins in on Junhui’s excitement, excitedly hopping from foot to foot, “Hell yes! That’s what makes it worth it for me to work my ass off every day!”

“Don’t get too carried away, Soonyoung,” Jihoon says warily, “Don’t forget your position as a captain. Besides, you still have a few more days until it happens.”

“We know, we know…” Mingyu waves his hand at him, “But it’ll be the first nice evening that we’ve had in a while.”

When the meeting disbands, each captain goes their separate ways from the main hall. If the Chief wanted this to be a spring celebration, you’re going to need alcohol, food and flowers.

“If you have some time,” you call out to Jihoon as he begins to leave, “Can we talk about the arrangements for food, drink and decorations?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon turns to you, “We’ll be celebrating at a place by Lake Bomun. If we’d done it here you’d work yourself to the bone… You still need to be rewarded as well.”

“Oh, Commander, I don’t think–” Your ears warm with embarrassment.

“It’s a secret,” he says with a coy smile, “If I reveal it now, it’ll spoil the surprise.” After vaguely speaking, leaving you in a confused state, he spins and leaves the hall.

A few nights later you find yourself being led along a stone path to a temple near the lakeside of Bomun. 

“Commander Lee…” You murmur, trying not to trip on the agate stone of the walkway, your nerves somersaulting at the sight of the flowing fabric around you. “Isn’t there an issue with,” you let out a small cough, “what I’m wearing?”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, “It’s been a while since you’ve worn women’s clothes… Are you uncomfortable?”

“I think that’s exactly my point,” You stop as he turns to look at you, “I’ve only worn men’s clothes since I’ve come to live with the Hwarang.” You’d neither tied your hair or worn a hairpin for a while so it feels quite out of your comfort zone.

“You look great,” he nods, “If I hadn’t known it was you, I’d assume you were a noblewoman.”

“You’re too nice,” you murmur as you feel heat creep up your neck, he surely has an odd sense of humor. It’s then you take a look at him, the blue of his Hwarang robes shed for a brilliant purple. Gold embellishments line the fabric and a portion of his long dark hair is held in a cuff, cascading a ponytail along his already freed hair. Jihoon doesn’t wear his hair like this often, nor the clothes of his noble rank. He’s handsome, you cannot deny that.

“I took some time off tonight so that I could walk the temple grounds with you,” he motions you to follow him, “It’s a rare opportunity for both of us. Want to look around?”

“Ye– Sure!” You nod, still momentarily distracted by him. 

The two of you wander the small pathways of the temple for a time. Other festival goers litter the paths as well, couples, parents and their children– an air of calm in a seemingly torrid world After a few more minutes of walking, you and Jihoon find yourselves on a more secluded area of walkway when he pauses, looking at you with a question hanging on his lips,

“Are your feet sore? I know you’re probably not used to those kinds of shoes.”

“No,” you answer with a shake of your head, “I’m alright.”

“You’ve got a stronger resolve than most,” he chuckles, “Makes sense, how else would you have traveled from Toehwa-hyeon to Seorabeol alone?”

“I only left home because I was looking for my father,” you smile at him, sadness riding in your tone and surely reflecting in the small smile you offer. 

“I know,” he sighs frustratedly, “Trust me, we are trying our best to figure out where he disappeared off to.” 

The once light atmosphere becomes heavy with the mention of your father. Walking further a bit, you see several temple patrons tying small pieces of parchment to a tower in the center square of the temple’s entrance. 

“Do you think that’s for prayers?” You ask and look at Jihoon, “Should we write something?”

His eyes stare coldly at the display before you, before relaxing at your request, “I’m not one to leave it all in the gods’ hands… But if we’re already here, why not.”

“I’ll go and find a brush,” you grin and begin to dash off.

“Don’t forget the paper!” He calls out after you.

It takes you a while to find the items, but you return to Jihoon and hand him a brush and piece of paper. You take your time carefully penning your wish down onto the paper, blowing the ink softly so it dries faster.

“I can tie it for you,” he says as he notices you trying to figure out where to place yours. You hadn’t noticed him tie his own to the tower.  

“Ah– Okay,” you nod, caught up in his words as you try to hand him your wish clumsily. 

“What kind of wish did you write?” he asks, gently holding it in his hands but not unfurling the carefully folded paper. Eyes widening, you reach out, aiming to grab the paper but instead grip your hands around his, blocking his free hand from taking the paper. He laughs, “I can’t put it up for you if you hide it from me… Don’t tell me you want to keep it a secret for me that badly?”

“It’s nothing like that at all!” You nearly shout, flustered as heat creeps along your cheeks. 

“Is it something too shameful to mention, then?” He teases, leaning in closer. 

“…Why would you think that?”

Jihoon looks at you suspiciously for a moment too long but eventually sighs and pulls back, “Now, thanks to you, I’m wondering if you’re really making a wish for yourself or for the sake of someone else. IF it’s really something you want for yourself, then good.”

Thinking for a moment, you drop your hands away from his. He sighs in the gentle night breeze wafting through the temple and ties your wish to the tower without looking at the inscription on it. 

“My bad,” he relents, “I was being tactless. Your wish is only between you and the spirits.”

“No,” you shake your head, “It isn’t that… What did you write, Jihoon?” Your teeth catch your lower lip at the slip of his first name. You don’t use it often, only in the moments where you forget that he wields absolute authority over your role within the Hwarang. 

His eyes widen at your name falling from his lips, and then soften, his lower lip turning into a pout as you raise your hands, “Sorry! I shouldn’t be asking you.”

He laughs, waving his hand, “No, I don’t mind. My wish is obvious: for the Hwarang to become even greater than they already are.”

“That makes sense,” you note. “Then my wish is–” you begin before he cuts you off.

“Hush, I didn’t ask,”

“You just told me yours, though. It wouldn’t be fair… I wished for you to be safe and healthy.”

When you tell him, he laughs a bit mockingly, “Really? Isn’t that exactly what I was worried about? Plus, there’s no reason to hide something like that, right?”

“I know, but it’s just–” you flush, looking at the ground.

“Thank you.” He says simply and you look at him. “I’m the one keeping you under house arrest, and yet you’re so good natured.”

“I don’t think of it that way anymore,” you retort. “At first, our only common goal was to find my father. But now that I know all of you better I’m happy that I can live with you all and be useful in some ways.” Ever since the raids on Wonweol and Jeolin you saw what force the Hwarang could muster, you then could understand and believe that they are fighting for what is right.

Jihoon gives you a small nod in thanks, “This was a nice evening but unfortunately I have some work to do, so I guess we’d better head back.”

“Thank you for taking the time to take me out today.”

“There’s no need for thanks, it was a nice breather for me as well.”

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 13𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Look Seungkwan!” You call out to the captain some feet in front of you, “The trees are still in bloom.”

Boo Seungkwan stops in his tracks, the blues of his robes shifting as he turns to face you and then looks across the street at the tree you'd pointed out.

The gentle introduction of spring is most certainly needed in Seorabeol now. After last autumn’s attempt at quashing the Baekje forces, Silla thought themselves to be rid of the threat, but now more rumors have been arising from the north that Buyeo Pung and his men are on the move once again.

“You’re right,” he nods and looks back at you, a smirk on his lips as he does so, “Even then, I’d try to act sedate about it.”

Eyes widening as you look at a few townsmen who pass, their gazes dubious over your excitement towards the changing season. Maybe too forgetful of your attire with the dawn of a new spring, you find yourself quieting down as you catch up to Seungkwan.

“Seungkwan?” You question after a moment more of walking, your eyes watching a few petals float atop the river, “Why didn’t we go after those men who ran off after seeing you?”

“Them?” Seungkwan scoffs as you look back to him, “They’re not revivalists, that’s for sure. If they were, they wouldn’t have run off like a dog with its tail between its legs. More than anything they’re probably common thieves.” A nod of his head as his shoes kick up a small cloud of dust, “To be honest, I doubt there are any revivalists in Seorabeol willing to start anything and oust themselves at this point.”

“The Hwarang have really made a name for themselves, haven’t they?” You muse, watching the street ahead of you. “It seems like everyone knows your blues.”

In recent memory, the question of changing the Hwarang uniform has been placed on the table more than once, stemming from the fact that it both catches people’s attention as well as wards troublemakers off. As well as a lack of fashionable sense, Gongmyung had so graciously advised. 

“Has the Deputy Commander returned from Ungjin yet?” You question, knowing that Gongmyung had left some time ago to oversee some things at a newer installment of Hwarang in the area.

“Think so,” Seungkwan frowns, “Can’t say I wanted him back so soon, if ever, though.”

“He said he was going to recruit people too, right?” 

“Mhm, but I have to wonder if Ungjin is the only place he went.” The Hwarang mutters.

“Isn’t that a good sign though? That he’s trying to get more numbers?” 

“Is that what you think that’s about?” An eyebrow piqued at you.

“Am I wrong to assume that?” You furrow your brow, brushing your hand on the front of your robes to try and get rid of some lingering dust.

“Not at all,” with the way Seungkwan says it, you know he’s being sarcastic. “Kwak’s too nice to him, he should’ve been kicked out a long time ago.”

Ever since the Kim brothers had arrived to join the Hwarang, there had been a strong dislike for Gongmyung. You certainly can see why but hearing the absolute vocalized protest against him is jarring to hear. 

You break away from looking at the road ahead and catch a glimpse of a figure quickly turning and racing down a side alley. At first you think it to be more men afraid of getting caught from the Hwarang on patrol, but the bright pink of their skits catch you off guard as they slip around the corner. 

“Wait a minute…” Catching their eye, you’re stricken with a familiarity almost as if you were looking at your own face. You aren’t given much time to look at her, though, because once you’ve realized who she is, she’s gone. “Ahro!” You call out, only to be pulled back by Seungkwan.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, only for you to shrug him off and barrel down the road towards where you’d last spotted your doppelgänger. 

“Just hold on!” You call out behind you, knowing that a stunt like this is going to get you into trouble. The backstreets are more dense than you originally thought, a thicket of people causing you to weave your way through the crowds as you race after the girl. It isn’t until you trail her to a back alley deep in the depths of Seorabeol does she stop.

“Is something wrong?” Ahro asks as she spins on her heels as she turns to face you, “You seem to have exerted yourself quite a bit.”

“It looks like I surprised you earlier,” you huff, trying your best not to double over as your lungs take in more oxygen than they can process. “Do you remember who I am?”

“Of course,” she nods, “You were with the Hwarang that day.”

“Can I ask you something?” Thoughts flooding to what Mingyu had said that night at Noseo-dong, of the girl he mentioned who looked exactly like you. “One of the men said they saw a girl who looked like me at the bulletin board by the bridge some time ago… Was that you by any chance?”

“I’m not sure,” a frown holds her lips as her pink skirts flutter in the wind with a gentle breeze, “I don’t find myself traveling there very often. But if he had seen me, would that be an issue?” Embarrassment takes hold over you, you’re almost accusing a stranger for something that you don’t even know the full story of. “Perhaps what you wanted to ask me was if I’ve been there at night?”

Eyes widening at her statement, maybe she is more perceptive than you thought.

“It happened in late spring, someone who looked like me disrupted what the Hwarang were guarding,” you pick your words carefully, trying not to be but so accusatory at the moment.

“If it was you,” a voice, more accusatory, calls out from behind you and directed towards Ahro, “Then we need to talk, it may or may not end with your imprisonment depending on the answers you give me.”

“Seungkwan,” you mutter, surprise overtaking you as he walks to stand by your side. You’re not sure when he’d caught up with you. 

“Captain Boo,” she notes with a small smile, “Thank you for helping me back then.”

Her gratitude falls on deaf ears, Seungkwan’s frown not budging with her words. “Are you going to answer her?” He asks, gaze narrowing, the taught smirk reappearing as his body tenses, anticipating something, “Were you at the board that night?”

“Many people walk by that board during the day,” Ahro’s brow furrows, “But I don’t go near it at night because of the attacks. Are you accusing me simply because I look like someone else?” She looks almost downcast at her own words, her gaze dropping to the ground as she hangs her head.

“Of course not,” you step in, “It’s rude of us to assume without any proper evidence.”

“You’re still gullible,” Seungkwan scoffs, shaking his head, “After a few sorry words you’re just going to believe her? Even if she is the culprit, do you think she’d just tell you that?”

Seungkwan and you lock eyes, an immense feeling of guilt washing over you. You’re not one to place the blame with little to no evidence, but she was the closest thing to a lead you and he had seen since Mingyu had divulged what he’d seen that night.

“If there’s no reason for you to keep me here… I should be getting on my way, I have errands to run,” Ahro sighs out and turns on her heels, beginning to walk towards the main street.

You think to pursue her once more, but a fit of coughing coming from the captain interrupts that thought. 

“Are you alright?” A worried look to Seungkwan, who’s nearly doubled over, coughing into his hand. You find yourself stepping forward, wanting to offer assistance but not sure on how to do so.

His head shoots up to look at you as he hears you approach, his free hand raising to stop you, “Stay back.” Another bout of coughing before he speaks again, “I’m fine just… just give me a second.” It is the intensity of his demeanor that halts you, not only his words. The captain coughs for a few moments more, only standing straight when the bouts reside. His face looks pallid, sweat crawling down the sides of his face as he looks back at you. 

“Are you still sick?” You question him carefully as he wipes his hand on his sleeve. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly, a small smile finding its way to his lips as if to assure you. It doesn’t. “You did make me run after you, you know.”

“But…” you begin before he stops you.

“But nothing, we’re in the middle of our rounds, we can’t get sidetracked anymore.” With that, he begins to walk, pace a little more slower than usual. You catch up to him and he starts to scold you, “I agree that asking Ahro about the incident was important, but you can’t just run off like that alone. If she had been an enemy or had accomplices waiting for you, what would you have done?” He watches your brow furrow and shakes his head, “You didn’t even think about that, did you?”

Even if Ahro hadn’t done anything nefarious, Seungkwan’s right. You’d chased after your doppelganger without a second thought, which could have been bad if it had been someone else. 

“Just,” he sighs, “try to be more careful, okay? I can’t be around you all of the time to make sure you don’t run off and get yourself kidnapped or killed.”

With Seungkwan’s words still lingering in your head, you finish your rounds and head back to the temple grounds. They still continue to float around even after you've eaten dinner and resigned yourself back to your room, the bright light of the moon creeping in through the sole window of your quarters. 

You like to think yourself useful, on more than one occasion you have helped the Hwarang with their ventures and around the headquarters. Yet, today has shown you that there is much more to learn, and maybe that your perception isn’t where it should be. 

The more you think about it, the stronger your resolve to change it becomes, you’ll work on becoming more aware and less dependent on this. It’s high time you do something about it. 

Just when you think that to yourself, a loud boom reverberates around your room, up against your door as if someone’s thrown themselves against it. It causes you to startle, quickly bolting up from your bedding as your heart begins to pound in your chest. It happens once more and the door bursts open, splinters of wood falling to the ground from where the hinges once attached to frame, revealing a wang-do standing in the dimly lit hall.

“Is… everything alright?” You question after they make no move to speak, continuing to stand there ominously. “Do you need something?” Every muscle in your body feels taught, anticipating the culminating worry building in your gut.

The wang-do mutters something, nearly inaudible as you strain your ears to listen to him.

“What did you say?” 

“… Blood,” the word chills you as he takes a step across the threshold of your room, now as he comes into focus you can see that his hair is stark white. “I need… blood.” In his hand is a sword, dragging along the ground as he takes another step, the sound of the metal carving into the wood of the floor echoing around the space. It hits you then, your stomach dropping as you realize that he’s one of the Furies. 

You part your lips, wanting to call out for one of the captains, but find yourself unable to muster a singular syllable before the Fury lunges at you with a cackle. The blade hisses as he raises it and brings it down toward you, you roll from your bed and onto the floor but not before you feel the cool metal of the blade burn and sink into the flesh of your arm. 

A cry escapes you as you hit the floor, trying to scramble away from the intruder, but as the Fury catches sight of the crimson of your blood, he seems to only become more enthralled. Hand finding the wound on your arm, you try to apply pressure to it, your back hitting the wall behind you as the Fury looms in front of you. 

“Someone help!” The words finally escape you as the Fury reaches up to smear the droplets of blood that had hit his cheek, he laughs again before raising his sword once more, probably intending to end your life. His eyes show no remorse, no semblance of humanity as he laughs and laughs. Feet kicking off of the floor, he begins to barrel towards you, your limbs frozen in place as you can only watch.

The sound of a pair of footsteps racing into your room nearly pulls your attention away from the man running at you, yet it doesn’t, but when the new figure tells you to duck and look away, you comply almost immediately, tucking into yourself and trying to move away.

The Fury that had been chasing you stops at the intrusion, looking surprised to see the commander standing in the front of your room, his sword raised. Angered at the arrival, the Fury turns from you and takes a sloppy swing at Jihoon, the commander’s blade meeting the wang-do as he turns. 

A cry resounds around the room as the Fury is struck, writhing for a moment before his wound begins to heal before your very eyes. Jihoon realizes this and looks over to you, “Get over here, now,” his voice stern before he looks back to the wang-do. Wordlessly, you do, still holding onto your arm as you make your way to him, the Fury’s attention still rapt upon Jihoon. As you fall behind the captain, more footsteps race towards your room, several of the captains arrive at your doorway seconds later, their brows furrowed.

“You all right?” Junhui asks as he looks to survey the situation. 

“That’s,” Mingyu frowns before you can respond, his eyes settled on the wang-do, “the kid who had to drink the pimul after that shop raid… He’s too far gone now to bring him back.” The sadness in his tone is palpable, knowing that they’d have to kill the turned wang-do in the very near future. As if the words were an unspoken signal, the trio release their blades from their scabbards. They fan out, circling the wang-do carefully, watching for any signs of erratic movement. In an instant, the captains attack and fell the soldier, who crumples to the ground with a shriek of pain. 

For a few seconds, the room is quiet, only then to be interrupted by more footsteps approaching. Perhaps the captains hadn’t been the only ones to hear your plea for help.

“I thought we’d talked about sparring after the sun’s set…” Gongmyung’s voice sounds from around the corner, rubbing his eyes as he turns into the room, freezing when he sees the scene before him. “What’s happened?”

Brow furrowing as he looks to the fallen Hwarang, “Wasn’t he sentenced to death a few days ago for breaking our code?” Looking from the bloodied corpse to the bloodied blades held by the captains, “Are you all responsible for this?”

Jihoon mutters some profanity under his breath as Soonyoung begins to ramble, “You don’t understand, we’ve just-”

“A captain cutting down his own man?” Gongmyung continues, an amalgamation of confusion and anger culminating in his expression, “This is unheard of.”

“This is my fault, I suppose,” another voice rings out from behind Gongmyung and your hair stands on end immediately. Seungcheol looks forlornly at the wang-do’s corpse, “My lack of leadership caused this to happen.”

At the sound of his voice, Gongmyung jumps and at the sight of him, Gongmyung pales. “W- What are you doing here, Colonel? You’re supposed to be dead…?” 

The room falls silent once more, until Jihoon breaks it.

“I suppose we can’t keep it a secret for any longer.” Arms crossing over his chest, he looks to you as you push yourself from the floor, “You should leave, you can use my room for the night.” 

You want to stay, want to make sure that they can explain everything properly so that Gongmyung doesn’t get any more frantic. Yet, Jihoon’s expression tells you enough that he’ll handle it. 

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 14𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The sound of birds chirping stirs you from slumber, and as soon as your eyes open you bolt up, looking at the unfamiliar space around you. This is the commander’s private quarters, you remember this as you recall the events of the night prior. Your arm, now wrapped in bandages, has healed quickly, yet you keep the guise of injury for the time being. The last you’d checked it had faded into a light scar, in a few days there would be no trace of it at all. 

Your feet eventually find the floor, standing and stretching before you open the door and quickly make your way to the main hall to see what the events of last night had wrought upon the Hwarang. Before you get into the hall, you come across the Kim brothers, Gongmyung calling out to you.

“You…” The Deputy Commander says before two more figures come into view.

“Soonyoung… Hansol… Where are you all going this early?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“Due to last night’s… disturbance, I’m sure no one got a good night’s sleep,” Gongmyung answers for them, “You were injured, right? How’s your arm doing?” 

“It isn’t as bad as I first thought,” you nod, hand moving to ghost over the injury.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says with an uncharacteristic smile. Rather than the manic state he was in last night, he seems to be chipper. 

“Did something happen?” You ask, wondering about the mood shift.

“I suppose you could say that, right, Choi, Kwon?” Gongmyung looks at them, as do you. When you catch Soonyoung’s eye he quickly breaks away, diverting his gaze away from you. 

“I guess so,” the younger mumbles out.

“It isn’t information we can give out right now,” Hansol frowns, his attention rapt on you, unlike Soonyoung’s. 

“Even for you, Choi, that’s a cold goodbye,” Dongyoung says, “Or did you want to get out of here as fast as you can?”

“Are you… leaving?” You question, looking back to the brothers before Gongmyung hushes his sibling.

“We’ll be on our way,” he nods at you, “I hope your injury heals well.”

“Goodbye,” Hansol says as he passes you, a small nod in your direction before Soonyoung brushes past with a ‘See you’. 

And then just like that, they’re gone, leaving you standing at the entrance of the main hall to try and understand what had just happened. Before long, you pull yourself from your thoughts and make your way into the hall, meeting with a few other captains.

“Are you sure you should be up already?” Eunseok calls out to you as you enter, a worried expression on his face as he notices your bandaged arm. He’s standing next to Wonwoo, presumably having been in a conversation with him before your arrival.

“I’m alright,” you try to assure him with a small smile, “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

“That’s good news,” Wonwoo smiles, “I’m sorry to hear that it happened though.”

“It’ll be alright…” Trying to sate their worry, you bring up another thought plaguing you. “I saw the Deputy Commander on my way here, he was acting strange.”

The two look at each other before Eunseok lets out a sigh, “You saw them?”

“Soonyoung and Hansol were acting strange as well,” feeling concerned for the captains, you look to the two in front of you for answers. 

After a moment of silence, Wonwoo speaks up hesitantly, “Well… They’re leaving.”

Eyes widening as Eunseok adds on, “They’re going to form a new group different from the Hwarang. We had a meeting with the Chief and Commander Lee about it this morning.”

“So Soonyoung and Hansol…” A frown begins to curve your lips as you realize why they had been so downcast. 

“They are leaving with him, yes,” Eunseok sighs out, “I think I’m as shocked as you are. I understand that coming from Soonyoung, since he’s known him for longer… But Hansol’s surprised me the most.”

“Don’t worry,” Youngmin’s voice calls out, probably having witnessed your conversation from the head of the room. “We promised to keep things calm between our two organizations.”

Even if his words are meant to calm, with Gongmyung leaving with several pivotal members of the Hwarang, you only think he’s meaning to split and factionalize the rifts forming in the Hwarang’s ranks. 

“He still won’t be able to associate with the Guard though, right?” Wonwoo questions.

“Like hell I’d let him,” Jihoon speaks up now, a bitter bite to his voice, “He can leave, but I’m not letting him walk all over us so he can get what he wants.”

From there, the Hwarang begin to speak amongst themselves of names and other organizations that you aren’t too familiar with, slowly leading you to drift away from the conversation. Despite your feelings towards the captains leaving, you know nothing you say now could change anything, they’ve already left. So, you quietly excuse yourself and leave the main hall. As you walk towards your room, you look to the sky, wondering what the impact of leaving would have on the remaining Hwarang. Surely a blow like this hurt not only their pride but the relationships they have with those who left.

The door to the main hall opens and you turn to see Jihoon leaving, he catches you looking at him and strides over.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He questions, eyes lingering on your bandaged arm, “I remember the cut being deep.”

“I feel better,” you say quickly, trying to brush off his concern.

“Just because your father’s a doctor and you know a few things doesn’t make you invulnerable,” an almost concerned tone wavering in his voice, “Go and get some rest before you hurt yourself more.” 

“I will,” you nod, mentally berating yourself. It’s hard to recall the severity of one’s injury when it heals so quickly. “Before I go, though… Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the new group… How do you feel about all of them leaving?” 

“What do you mean?” He questions, crossing his arms. 

“You’re losing some of your men,” you aren’t sure how careful you should be with your wording, “Doesn’t that make you upset?”

“If they were my allies yesterday and things change that makes them my enemies tomorrow, so be it.” He shakes his head, “That’s just life.”

“Even Soonyoung and Hansol?” The two captains had been by his side since he’d started commanding the Hwarang, surely, he couldn’t turn on them so easily.  

“They’ll be missed,” Jihoon frowns, “But if they’re leaving it means they had an issue with the Hwarang, it’s better they leave now than when their discontent grows even more.” 

The commander’s harsh and analytical take towards his men leaving has you somewhat stupefied. On one hand, you can see how indifferent he’d be towards Gongmyung and his lackeys leaving, but the two captains should have him more in a state. But if they all found themselves incompatible with the Hwarang, maybe it was for the best.

In the days following the departure of Gongmyung, Dongyoung, Hansol, Soonyoung and the rest of Kim's followers, you notice the compound feeling much emptier and lonelier. Around that time, Suh Kangjoon departed the Hwarang and his role as War Counselor. Even if it’s the inevitable change of things, you can’t help but see several different paths beginning to veer off the main one, unsure of where each one leads. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 11𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Three months have passed since the departure of Kim Gongmyung and his men to form the Guardians of the Royal Tomb. More so, it has been three months since Hansol and Soonyoung left. Their presence, or absence of, remains blazingly obvious at times during the days that have since passed. These thoughts of them, and their reasoning for abandoning the Hwarang plague you still, as they do tonight as you toss and turn in your bed as you search for slumber.

It isn’t coming any time soon, your muscles ache from your work earlier in the day, and you’d woken up early this morning to aid with an upcoming captain’s meeting… Why aren’t you tired? You should be, right? 

Eyes shutting for the umpteenth time, trying to force yourself to sleep, you hear a voice call out to you from behind your door, a gentle knock accompanying it. “Are you awake?” The voice of the Hwarang’s commander causes you to scramble to your feet, inching closer to the door.

“Is something wrong?” You ask as you approach the door.

“You have a visitor,” voice muffled behind the wood, you can hear him shift on his feet, “Once you’re dressed, come to the main hall.”

“A visitor?” You muse as Jihoon’s footsteps lead away from your room to give you some privacy. The visitor in question confuses you, who could possibly be calling for you late at night? Regardless of their identity, you quickly dress yourself and head to the main hall. 

The figure standing there as you enter surprises you, before you’re able to question their appearance, Youngmin speaks.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep,” A small smile of apology as he glances towards the newcomer.

“You look like you just rolled out of bed,” Seungkwan says snidely, a grin on his lips, “Didn’t even brush your hair?”

You begin to move your hand towards your scalp as you frown at him, but before you can touch your hair, Jihoon cuts him off. Glancing at the commander, you can see Seungcheol, Junhui, and Mingyu in the room as well.

“This isn’t the time, Boo,” Jihoon huffs and looks at you, “You look fine.”

You nod quickly at the commander before turning back to look at your guest in full, once she lays her eyes on you, she breaks out into a small smile.

“It’s good to see you again.” With all of the elegance that you had upon your first meeting, Sooyoung commandeers the room with her charisma, “I hope you’ve been well? I’m sorry for visiting so late.”

“Sooyoung?” The name falls from your lips as you stare at her, confused. It’s then you realize that another woman stands beside her, her face seems familiar as well.

Sooyoung seems to catch this, turning to her and telling you, “She’s my bodyguard, of sorts.”

“Your bodyguard?” The woman in question is almost as striking as an actress, not what you’d expect a guard to look like. 

Even more confused, you look at Jihoon, who sighs out, “…She said that it was imperative to talk to you.”

It’s obvious that he isn’t stepping into your own matters unless you allow him to, so you hum to yourself and look back to your visitor. “Why are you here, Sooyoung?” A tilt of your head as you ask, “Is something wrong?” 

“I’ll get straight to the point then,” her smile fades away and her expression becomes stern, turning to face you fully, “I’m here to take you away.” 

“Take me away…?” Brow furrowing, your foot moves instinctively to take a step back, “Why?”  

A hum as she thinks, “It’s a long story that I’m not sure how to begin.”

“There isn’t any time to discuss this,” the woman beside her says hurriedly, “We need to leave immediately if we’re to get her out of here safely.” 

“Hold on,” you interrupt the pair, “Why should I go with you two?”

“That’s a good question!” You hear Junhui speak up from behind you, “You barge in here, ask to talk to her, and demand that she leaves with you?”

“You’re not related to her, are you?” Mingyu adds questioningly, “She looks about as confused as we do.” 

“Sooyoung could you explain what’s happening a little more?” You pose, not trying to get the captains upset if there’s an actual reason for you to be worried. 

“Our intrusion would perplex anyone, I suppose,” she nods in understanding and then motions to one of the tables in the room, “This might take a while, so it’s best to be comfortable in the meantime.”

“Would you like us to stay outside?” Youngmin asks, glancing towards the open doorway into one of the temple’s courtyards.

“No,” Sooyoung says as you move to take a seat at the table she’d motioned to. “I’d like you to stay, this involves the Hwarang as well.” She takes her own seat, followed by the captains, Youngmin and Jihoon, who she observes quietly before beginning to speak. 

“I’m aware that you all have met Hong Jisoo before, right?” As she states the question a few of the Hwarang look taken aback. “You’ve fought him once or twice.”

“How do you know that?” Jihoon’s gaze hardens on the woman.

“I know most things that go on in Seorabeol,” her gaze returns the hardness of his, “Eventually.”

“You’re like him and his cronies, aren’t you?” Arms crossing over his chest as he comes to the realization. 

“I’d prefer not to be associated with him, Minghao or Minhyun, but yes, in a sense I am.” A nod of affirmation as Jihoon’s expression softens slightly.

“… You were talking about Jisoo, then.” 

“We fought him at Wonweol, Ongsan and Banwolseong,” Mingyu interjects, brow furrowed, “What are his ties with the loyalists?” 

“It seemed like he was there for his own reasons, though,” Seungkwan points out, countering the other. “Not any sort of politics.” 

“Regardless, he’s an enemy of us,” Jihoon frowns, adjusting the way he’s seated.

“Then you’re also aware that he’s pursuing her?” Sooyoung’s eyes flicker to you, the captain’s stares following suit. 

The unraveling of this truth is a story you don’t want to hear the end of. Your stomach churns uneasily as each captain looks at you, some confused, some unsure of what to do or say. Youngmin eventually breaks the silence,

“We’re well aware of that.” He coughs to clear his throat before continuing, “We also know he has comrades he calls Demons; not that we believe that, of course.”

“I’m not sure that that claim is unfounded, Chief,” Seungcheol speaks up from the swarm of captains looking at you, “They all possessed strength incomparable to any of our men. Any of our... living men, at least. Despite that, it seems as if no one really knows they exist.”

The captains shift, murmuring things too quietly for you to hear before you look back to Sooyoung, anxious for her to continue. 

“So, then you do know that they’re Demons,” a nod as she hums somewhat contently, “That will make things a little easier to explain.” Her hands fold atop one another as she places them on the table, “I’m not human either, I’m a Demon too.”

Your eyes widen, lips parting in surprise, “You are?”

“I’m actually rather high ranking,” eyes locked with yours, “something akin to a princess.” 

“My family has been guarding hers for generations,” the other woman adds, moving a bit to stand closer to Sooyoung’s chair, not having sat when everyone else did. 

“I suppose that makes more sense,” Jihoon muses, despite you still looking confusedly between the three. “I was wondering why you were so friendly that night, you were getting intel on the Hwarang, weren’t you?” 

A sly smile as the guard brushes a few strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear, “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“You know her?” Junhui sounds shocked as he looks at Jihoon.

“Move your eyes up six inches, Junhui,” Mingyu snorts, “That’s Seulgi.” Then, it clicks, she isn’t as dressed up as she was that night, but it looks to be the kisaeng from the night the Hwarang had been in Noseo-dong. “Dressed a little differently, but that’s definitely her.” 

“Holy shi-” Junhui nearly chokes, baffled at his inability to have recognized her from before.

“Us Demons have lived on this land since before the kingdoms were even mere conceptions,” Sooyoung captures the conversation once more, “The top officials in Silla, Goguryeo, and what was once Baekje, already know of our existence. Most Demons have no interest in human affairs, preferring to be left alone. However, humans in positions of power sought to use us to benefit their own means.”

“Did the Demons comply, then?” You question softly, seeing the look of disgruntlement on Sooyoung’s face. 

“Most didn’t. Human ambition has never been strong enough to pull a Demon to get involved,” an almost angered sigh leaves her, “Yet, when the Demons refused to help, the humans were furious and sent out armies to destroy our homes and our villages. We scattered across the land and are now divided by the different kingdoms. We seldom leave our domains and remain in hiding.”

“That’s awful,” a somberness coating your words as she speaks, the lorness in her expression unsettling. 

“Many Demons went on to have children with humans, there are few of us now who can claim a pure bloodline.”

“I assume Jisoo is one of them?” Youngmin questions softly, trying to not upset Sooyoung further.

“The largest pureblood family are the Hongs, you’ve already met the head, Jisoo.” A small nod as she looks to you, “In the north, the largest clan is the Heo family. That would be yours. I heard the Demons of your family were destroyed by humans, but it seems like you’re the lone survivor.”  

“Me?” You resist the urge to point at yourself, utterly taken aback by what Sooyoung had just divulged. “That’s impossible… I-”

“I had Seulgi look into your family history to the best of her ability,” she insists with a firm shake of her head.

“It seems hard to believe,” Seulgi offers you a sympathetic smile, “but you are very much a Demon.”

At a loss for words, you stare at the two women. It’s borderline insane that this is what they’re telling you, but at the same time it would explain a few things. Why Jisoo is after you, why you heal so quickly…

“If you really are the descendent of a pureblood Demon, it’s quite clear why Jisoo is after you,” Sooyoung doesn’t finish the rest of her statement, the answer being quite clear.

“He intends to marry her,” Youngmin huffs, glancing at you and your wide-eyed expression.

“It seems so,” the woman agrees, biting her cheek, “So far it seems as if he’s only been testing the water, I’m unsure of when he’ll become more confident in his approach. If he were to use his full strength, I don’t know how you would fare in protecting her. Even the Hwarang can’t stand against the true power of a Demon.”

“Wait a minute- aren’t you going a bit too far?” Junhui asks, sounding hurt by the latter statement. 

“I don’t think you’re giving us enough credit,” Mingyu frowns, “We’re not just some foot soldiers.”

“The only reason you’re alive is because Jisoo wants you to be,” Sooyoung points out, “If he and his accomplices were to use their full strength I’m not sure what would happen.”

“Then let them,” Seungcheol’s voice rises through the unsettled quiet, “I would like to see the power of a real Demon.”

Jisoo, Minhyun and Minghao had all shown incredible strength in the prior meetings you had with them; even the Hwarang captains had trouble keeping up. If that hadn’t been the full extent of their power, you’re unsure that you want to see it. 

“Junhui and Mingyu are right,” Jihoon says, “Even if they’re stronger than the average warrior, you’re still discrediting us. The power difference wasn’t so great that they bested us easily.”

“That’s right,” Seungkwan nods and smirks at the Jihoon, “Besides, we’ve got the Demon commander himself in charge.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Boo,” Jihoon sighs and shakes his head.

“You must realize that these men are unlike any you’ve faced before,” there’s an almost pleading edge to Sooyoung’s voice. “Your job is to protect Seorabeol, not her. That’s why I’m asking you to leave her in our care, with us her chances of surviving one of Jisoo’s attacks will be much higher.”

“Give us a break,” Junhui says, rising to his feet and planting his palms on the table, “You’re making it sound like we can’t protect her.” 

“I’m not trying to sound rude but,” Seungkwan’s head tilts at the two women, “you think that the two of you could protect her better than us? Neither of you are a part of the Hwarang, I’m not sure why you’re going around and sticking your nose in our business.”

Sooyoung and Seulgi seem to be taken aback by the captain’s reaction. 

“What do you think, Commander Lee?” Seulgi looks towards Jihoon, her gaze narrowing, “You’ve acknowledged Jisoo’s strength, are you not at least considering Sooyoung’s offer? I think it’s in your best interest to leave her in our care.” 

“That’s different,” Jihoon looks at Seulgi, leaning back in his chair slightly, “We made a promise to her, to protect her, we’re not going to back out just because they’re Demons. And I understand that you call yourselves Demons too—but that gives us no ground to trust you.”

“Do you realize who you’re speaking to? Sooyoung is a descendant of—” 

“Seulgi,” Sooyoung stops the other with a raise of her hand, her tone calm but stern, leaving no room for more argument, “That’s not necessary.”

“I agree with Lee,” Seungcheol affirms, yet doesn’t look your way, “if she possesses blood of a different species… I’m sure her aid will come to use for our internal purposes in the very near future.”

Seulgi glares at the colonel, not speaking as to not anger Sooyoung. 

“This is a problem, then,” Sooyoung notes solemnly, “Is there no way to convince you to allow her to go with us?”

“Hold on,” Youngmin interjects, “We didn’t even confirm what she has to say about all of this.” His gaze travels to you, sympathetic in nature and looking in your eyes as if you already have an answer.

But you don’t know what to say. It’s not that you doubt the concerns of Sooyoung and Seulgi, yet there’s just more and more to take in. 

Youngmin sees your furrowed brow, eyes teeming with indecisiveness, and nods with a small smile, “It must be difficult to discuss in front of so many people. You should speak to Sooyoung privately.”

“What the hell—!” Jihoon begins to protest, but Youngmin is unwavering in his stance. 

“We’ve been ignoring her feelings for this entire conversation,” Youngmin states, “if she wishes to leave of her own accord, for her own safety, we ought to let her, no?”

“You’re too soft on people,” Jihoon scoffs, but makes no move to stop him. 

“You won’t steal her away the moment we leave you alone, will you?” Seungcheol asks as the captains rise to their feet.   

“Of course not,” Sooyoung says as she remains seated, “Once Demons make a promise, we’re bound to keep it.”

A few moments later, once the captains, commander, chief and colonel had filed out of the main hall, you lead Sooyoung to your room nestled in the compound. Seulgi had opted to stay outside, just far enough away so she wouldn’t encroach on your private conversation. 

“I apologize for giving you a terribly large number of things to think about,” Sooyoung starts off, “Normally, I would never do something like this.”

“It’s alright,” you try to reassure her with a small smile, “I’m sorry for them as well, I know they can be a little… brusque at times.”

“That’s to be expected,” she waves it off, “I know I was asking a lot of them. Not many humans would accept the existence of us so easily. But enough of that, what do you say to my offer? Do you have any thoughts on it?”

Of course you do. If it had been Sooyoung to come across you on your first night in Seorabeol, you very well may have taken her up on her hospitality. Yet now…

As if she can see the wavering of your options, Sooyoung speaks, “The Hwarang seem to believe they can protect you from everything out to get you. I don’t doubt their dedication, I do, however, doubt their ability.”

You stay silent, aware that what she just said may be true. The Hwarang are powerful, skilled in both the sword and bow. You’d seen them overcome overwhelming odds, but those odds had always been nothing but human-made. From what Sooyoung had said, the strength of a single Demon would be enough to wipe them out should they so choose. A few of you have been able to see that firsthand, and the losses associated with it. To think that that same fate could arise to a captain of the Hwarang fills you with undeniable dread. 

“With Buyeo Pung seeking aid in Goguryeo, things will only get more hectic here in the capital,” Sooyoung says to fill the silence, “If Jisoo were to strike in the hysteria, what do you think would happen? You should leave the Hwarang, let them fight without worry.”

“Sooyoung…” The concern for you seems real, frantic, almost. 

“Is there,” her expression softening as she searches yours, coming to a subtle conclusion, “a reason you want to stay?”

“…There is.” You answer without thinking it through, the words falling from you so quickly you can barely catch them. 

“One of those men, perhaps?” Innocent in nature, her question still catches you off-guard. 

“Yes,” you nod, lower lip catching between your teeth as you can’t find it within yourself to lie to her. 

For a moment she looks tense, before her posture softens and a relieved expression overcomes her, “I see… I won’t ask who, but I can understand your hesitance now. I can’t force you to leave, but should you need us, you need only ask.” 

Sooyoung and you make your way back to the main hall, the captains loiter around the space, some look anxious upon your arrival.

“Have you come to a decision?” Youngmin asks once you’ve fully stepped into the room, giving you little time to compose yourself. 

“For the time being we’ve decided to leave things as they are,” Sooyoung states, Seulgi looking at her worriedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.” Sooyoung nods to her, “I believe prioritizing what she wishes is what’s most important for now.” 

“Very well,” Youngmin finds it hard to mask the smile growing on his lips, “The Hwarang accept responsibility for her well-being.” 

“Just relax and leave it all to me!” Junhui bursts out, eager to show his worth.

“I’m sure Wen’ll give you much more to worry about,” Mingyu laughs and looks at you, “It’ll be nice to still have you around.”

“What kind of girl wants to stay here?” Seungkwan chuckles, “I can’t tell if you’re brave or if you’ve had a strong lapse in judgment.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” Jihoon points out, “You’ll still be treated like you always were.” 

“Of course,” you nod, “Thank you all for letting me stay.” 

Sooyoung then moves to you, her hand finding yours as she looks into your eyes, “Please be careful, and remember, I’m on your side.”

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” you smile at her gratefully as she relinquishes the hold on your hand. She gives you one last beaming smile before her and Seulgi are off into the dark of night. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 19𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 In the days since Sooyoung’s visit, you find it much more difficult to drift off into a dreamless slumber. When you do dream, you find that your mind often travels to your heritage and what it means for you now and in the future, something of which you don’t want to think about. 

You had decided to stay with the Hwarang, but was that really the best choice for you, for them? Of course, you wanted to stay but would you being here cause them unneeded harm?

A sudden clang from outside causes you to jump, to leave your thoughts for a moment as your heart begins to pound. Eyes cautiously looking towards your bedroom door, your hands clench your blankets in taught anticipation. 

Several short bangs from your door cause you to rise to your feet, the voice of Jeon Wonwoo calling out to you, “I’m sorry for bothering you, but there’s an emergency!” 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice wrought with anxiousness as you walk towards the door, opening it to allow him inside. 

His body tense as he enters, continuously looking over his shoulder to make sure the hallway is clear, “The Demons have attacked us.” 

“What?!” Icy dread seeps through your veins at his words.

“They’re after you, which means you need to stay here.” 

“But—” You begin to protest his assertion, wanting to help in some way as the only reason the Demons are here is because of you. “Wonwoo, I have to find the others.”

“I can’t let you,” he shakes his head, a worried look in his eye as if he knows he can’t reason with you, “The Commander asked that I make sure you don’t leave.” 

“They’re here for me, though. If anyone gets hurt…” You wave away the thought, “Maybe I can try and reason with them? What if I can get them to leave peacefully?” 

Wonwoo’s lips purse, and after a moment, he shakes his head in defeat, “If you’re going to be that insistent, I don’t think I can stop you. I was told to protect you though, so if you’re going, I’m going.”

The two of you leave your room, barreling down the hallway until you’ve reached one of the inner courtyards. You stand there momentarily, unsure of where to go, until Wonwoo speaks up.

“It’s this way,” he says before something darts in front of you, pushing the officer to the ground. His body seems to fly for a few yards, hitting the ground with a thud as Wonwoo groans out in pain. As you try to run up to him, the same blur passes in front of you and you feel an arm wrap around yours.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The voice of Hong Jisoo asks you simply as you struggle to get out of his grip. His grip is like steel, unmoving and snakelike, “I heard the Park Clan visited a few days ago, I’m sure you know why I’m here, then.” 

He sighs, looking at the surrounding buildings, “You’re a Demon, a noble Demon… There isn’t any reason for you to hole yourself up with fakes.” Jisoo’s grip tightens on your arm slightly, “Come with me.” 

It’s obvious who he’s talking about when he mentioned the fakes. With the way your body tenses, Jisoo can sense your anger.

“Do you really think staying here and helping their own self-interest and agenda to create those… things is really what you should be doing?”

You find it hard to respond. For obvious reasons, you aren’t a fan of the existence of the Furies, but there were times when it was needed for a Hwarang to survive. Could you fault a man for wanting to live? Besides, your father was one of the people who created the serum, you can’t help but feel partially responsible.

“You don’t know anything about what’s going on here,” you thrash in his grip, trying to lessen his hold on you.

“So? Even if I did, are you asking me to play ignorant to what they’re actually doing?” He scoffs, looking up from you as the sound of racing footsteps approaches. 

You break your gaze away from him to see Mingyu and Jihoon running towards you, sour expressions on both of their faces.

“Breaking in again?” Jihoon frowns as he locks eyes with Jisoo, “I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid. This isn’t a gathering place for Demons, you know.”

“Barging in here to find yourself a wife,” Mingyu snickers at the Demon, “You’d think you’d have gotten the message by now.”

The sight of the two Hwarang puts you at ease a bit, even more so when you can see Chan and a handful of other wang-do behind them. There are a few missing faces among them, you wonder if they’d gotten injured in the earlier skirmishes. 

“You have no idea how important she is,” Jisoo frowns, his grip on you unrelenting still.

“So, taking her against her will just because you’re too scared of rejection is the way you’re going around this?” Mingyu nearly shouts at him, “That’s just pathetic.” 

“Even if you take her as a hostage, we’ll kill you without hesitation,” Jihoon affirms, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. 

“I wouldn’t need to use her as leverage with the likes of you,” there’s an arrogance in his words as the Hwarang begin to encircle him. The tension pulls like a taut rope, beginning to fray as it reaches its breaking point. 

Eyes glancing down to your arm, you realize that Jisoo had left your other one free, you reach for your blade at your hip. It’s an awkward angle, but you jerk the blade from its scabbard and swing it up towards Jisoo.

He dodges it easily, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, his grip tightens and causes you to cry out. With the force he is exerting, you feel as if your bones will break, the blade in your hand clattering to the ground. 

“You really don’t understand how powerful I am, do you?” His gaze sharpens at you, lips parting to say something else before a voice calls out.

“I’m your opponent,” Jihoon shouts, “I said before that I wouldn’t hesitate to strike you from behind!”

Your failed attack had abated Jisoo’s attention towards the commander long enough to allow him a chance to strike. Jihoon’s sword drawn from his scabbard, he arcs his blade towards Jisoo’s head. The Demon moves quickly, but with a nonchalant nature in his movements as the blade passes centimeters from his throat.

The attack was enough time for you to rid yourself from Jisoo’s grasp and run towards the commander. Jihoon’s free hand outstretches to grab your arm and pull you into him, his arm then moving to wrap around you, both catching and sheltering you. 

“I thought I told Jeon to keep you in your room,” He mutters under his breath, “You never listen, do you?” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, the pulsating feeling from where Jisoo had grabbed your wrist beginning to fade.

“You did good though,” Jihoon praises you, “Without your distraction I wouldn’t have gotten an opening.” His approval is somewhat shocking, not something you’re accustomed to so it takes you by surprise.

“Lee Jihoon,” Jisoo’s voice pulls you and Jihoon’s attention away from one another and towards the adversary, “Get your hands off her. She’s mine.” There’s a possessiveness in his tone that chills you to your core, a fury in his eyes that seems to have ignited after he made his recovery from Jihoon’s attack.

“The Hwarang are responsible for her,” The commander shifts, bringing you just a little closer to him, “We gave our word.”

“Come with me,” Jisoo’s attention turns to you, “You’re a member of an honorable Demon family. You shouldn’t be associated with the likes of these humans.”  

“I’m staying here,” it only takes you recalling the blatant disregard Jisoo has had for human lives on your handful of encounters with him to confirm your distaste for him. 

“You choose the humans, then?” His voice low, threatening like a cornered animal. 

“That’s too bad, Jisoo,” a laugh from outside of the circle of Hwarang, you look to see Xu Minghao pushing his way through the members. “Never thought I’d see you get rejected by a girl.”

Your eyes widen, Jihoon had had issues dealing with Jisoo alone, now that another Demon is here, you’re not sure what he’d do. 

“Commander,” another voice from outside the circle as the Hwarang break their lines to allow Seungcheol to walk through, “I apologize for being late.” He looks at Jisoo and Minghao with a small smile, “I’m afraid the Fury Corps will be your opponent this evening.” 

A wash of relief overcomes you at the sight of several members walking behind Seungcheol, although the Furies have caused issues in the past, it seems these men were on a set goal.

“You were saying some interesting things earlier,” Seungcheol muses, still looking at the two Demons. “Something along the lines of calling us fake? This would be a great opportunity to prove you otherwise.” The colonel’s eyes then turn red, his hair turning stark white as he reaches for the blade at his hip. 

“These men are ready to fight,” Minhyun, who you hadn’t seen snake his way through the men, tells Jisoo. 

“So?” Minghao scoffs, the quiver of arrows on his back rattling as he moves, “They could have a whole army of these new bloods and they still wouldn’t be a match for us.”

“There’s no need to dirty my blade with fake Demon blood,” Jisoo’s eyes flicker from Seungcheol to Jihoon, “I’ll do you a favor and not kill you all today, but that doesn’t mean I’m done here. I will be back for her.” With that, the trio break past the lines of Hwarang faster than any of the men, human or Fury, could keep up with, disappearing into the darkness outside of the compound.

“You bastards—!” Jihoon calls out after them after they’ve already disappeared.

“Should we go after them?” Seungcheol asks the commander, glancing back at his group of men. 

“No,” Jihoon shakes his head, “We can’t risk the citizens of Seorabeol seeing your unit.”

“Understood,” Seungcheol nods, “We’ll call it a night, then.” 

“Thank you, Commander,” once you were sure that the threat was gone, your body sags in relief.  

Jihoon’s grip on you relaxes and allows you to step away from him, “There’s no need to thank me. We had our reasons for wanting to protect you. Just try and get some sleep now.” He then turns to his men and orders them to find any dead or injured men around the compound. His demeanor takes on that of astute seriousness, wanting to end this as quickly as he can.

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 20𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Mid-morning, after a tumultuous night and subsequent sleep, you trudge your way to the main hall to find the captains in some kind of meeting. Upon your entry, Eunseok turns to you and offers a small wave.

“Good morning,” he smiles and beckons you over to sit down next to him, you take him up on his offer and he speaks again, “Did you sleep well?”

“As best I could,” you respond sheepishly.

“You don’t need to lie,” Eunseok notes, “We can tell you barely slept at all.”

“Do I really look that bad?” You mutter, your fingers moving to trace the circles under your eye. A shake of your head as you turn to Chan, who sits on your other side, “How’s Wonwoo doing?” 

“The fall knocked him out cold, but aside from some minor bruises he looks like he’ll be fine,” the officer reassures you. “He wants to apologize for not doing a better job of protecting you.”

“I should be the one apologizing to him!” You claim almost exasperatedly as the door to the main hall opens and a figure strides in.

“Is something wrong, Chief?” Eunseok questions Youngmin, who looks far from the chipper mood he typically has. “I think you’re scaring her.”

“I’m sorry if I am,” he apologizes to you, “Forgive me.” The smile he gives you is fleeting, returning to the grimace that seems deep rooted into him now. 

“What happened?” You question, and he lets out a sigh.

“The monks here don’t want us staying at Bulguksa any longer.” He says as calmly as he can, a look of defeat in his eyes.

“You mean to say they’re telling us to leave?” Chan asks, a troubled expression overcoming him. 

“More or less, yes,” The leader frowns.

“I had a feeling this would happen…” Eunseok sighs out and looks at Youngmin, “What should we do?” 

The monks at Bulguksa seemed to have shifted to a pro-Guard stance since the outburst of attacks in the recent months against the Hwarang. It’s no surprise they want the Hwarang gone, but this place was just beginning to feel like home.

“Do you think last night’s incident was the last straw?” Chan poses to Youngmin, who nods in agreement.

“I don’t think, I know.” He huffs out a large amount of air, “They don’t want actual fighting on their grounds, I’m sure some councilman also had his hand in this as well.” 

“This is all my fault,” you realize as he says that, the Demon’s wouldn’t have shown up if you weren’t here.

“That isn’t true,” Youngmin tries to reassure you, “We forced ourselves in here with unreasonable demands.”

“If we need to move, we should start looking at new locations,” Chan says quickly to change the topic. 

“The monks here have already provided another temple for us to stay in,” Youngmin says, his brow furrowing. 

“That’s very… nice of them,” Eunseok states, trepidation in his voice. “They must really want us gone.”

“Yes to both,” Youngmin nods, “which is why I accepted their offer. We’re going to get busy around here soon.”

The donors to Bulguksa Temple bought a piece of land some ways away from the original site to build a new compound for the Hwarang. It lay outside of the city, further than Bulguksa or Shoshin had been, called Shoji. The new grounds has ample enough space for a bathhouse, new training buildings, and even more rooms for the Hwarang members. The members are clearly excited about it. By the time the end of the summer came around, the Hwarang had fully moved from their residence at Bulguksa to their new home in Shoji. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Autumn breaks quickly after the long summer months. In August, the Crown had ordered its army to lay siege to Tolsa Fortress in the southern part of the Goguryeo Kingdom, asking for the aid of several Hwarang captains to join their ranks. The siege lasted for weeks with no eventual winner, save for Goguryeo as its stronghold hadn’t been weakened. No major events had occurred during the siege, the captains that had left, Junhui and Mingyu, returning with little to tell of their ventures to the northern kingdom.

It’s a quiet morning today, you’re cleaning up dishes from breakfast when you realize that the commander is nowhere to be found. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been present for breakfast this morning, either. Maybe he’s too busy to come out, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t eat something.

A few moments later you find yourself with a tray in hand, walking carefully to his room. You’ve adorned the tray with an assortment of food and a small pot of tea as well, not knowing if he was hungry or not.

“Commander,” you say as you stand in front of his door, “I’ve brought you some tea.”

“Come in,” Jihoon says after a moment, and you move to open his door. 

“Oh,” your eyes widen as you step inside, a bit taken aback by what you see.

“You can put it down anywhere,” he says, and you move to set it down, trying not to stare at him too much. He sits at the head of the room, writing something down on a piece of parchment, but that’s not what is grabbing your attention. His hair, which he usually ties up in a not atop his head, cascades down his shoulders loosely as he writes. 

“Do you need something else?” He asks, probably noticing your elongated stare.

“No,” you shake your head quickly, averting your gaze from him. 

“Then why are you here?” Jihoon questions, setting down his brush, careful not to draw his sleeve through the inkwell. “I’m a little busy.”

“Well…” You mumble, “Isn’t your hair in the way?”

“I don’t have time to tie it up, there’s too much I need to do,” he says nonchalantly, “I’ve got mountains of this shit to go through.” It’s then you notice the stacks of papers around him, all baring what looks like important seals. 

Even then, every time he moves to brush a strand of hair from his vision, he becomes even more frustrated. 

“Would you like me to tie it up for you?” 

Jihoon stays silent for a moment before turning back to his work, picking up his brush and beginning to hurriedly write, “I don’t like it when people touch my hair.” 

“I see…” you say, watching him write for a moment, not knowing what to say next.

“I appreciate the gesture,” he sighs, once again setting the brush down and moving to tie his hair up. “Now I can focus a bit more.”

“Commander? Have you eaten anything today?” You ask, looking towards the tray you’d brought in, “I brought you some snacks but if you needed a full meal, I could make you something.” 

He pauses from his work, and for a moment you think he’s forgotten about your presence entirely. “No,” Jihoon says and shakes his head, “I should be done by lunchtime. I’ll eat a lot then.” 

“Is there anything in particular you’d like?” 

“I told you that I don’t have time to eat right now,” he frowns, a small hunger pang reverberating through him.

“I meant that I’m the one cooking lunch today…” You scramble to fix your words, “So if there’s anything you want, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.” 

Jihoon now turns to fully look at you, chuckling to himself as he does so, “If you make what I want, the captains are going to be pissed.” 

“Let them be,” you shoot him a smile, “They can be as mad as they want. You’re working hard, and since I can’t help you out here, I can at least do something else for you.” 

“Food on the mind, huh?” A smile curling onto the edge of his lips, “I guess it can’t be helped then… If you back out on what I say, I’ll have it out for you, okay?” There’s a playful edge to his voice, joking, obviously, but it still catches you a bit off guard. 

“I’m ready to do what I can,” You nod eagerly.

“How about namul then?” He states simply. “Any kind will do.”

“Of course,” the words fall as you begin to think of what you’d need to make the dish. It’s not that it’s difficult to make, just time consuming as you would have to cook the variety of sides that you could find. 

“I’m looking forward to it, your cooking’s gotten a lot better recently.”

“Really?” You ask, somewhat surprised. No one’s really mentioned your cooking prowess before, you think it's okay at best. 

“The food we normally have is quick and easy to make, we don’t get much that takes time and effort. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it though.” 

A smile creeps onto your face and you try your best to hide it, still taken aback by the continuous praise, “I’ll try my best. We get a lot of fresh vegetables this time of year.” 

“Ingredients aren’t important,” he shakes his head, “If you could try and get the northern flavor, that’d be great.” A peaceful demeanor, almost as if he’s reminiscing, overcomes him. It ignites something of a fire in you, making you want to make this the best namul he’d ever had. 

“I’ll be going then,” you say and turn on your heels, only for the commander to call out your name a second later. 

“Do I really look that tired?” Jihoon asks as your eyes meet his.

“I never meant anything like that… It’s just that I don’t get to do much for you and I’d like to do anything I can.” 

The commander frowns, staying silent for a moment. “I’m not sure what it looks like, but I only allow myself to take on jobs that I can do. If I can’t do it, then I give it to someone who can. That’s also a part of my job.” He watches your eyes for your reaction, “Being determined is always good, but if there’s something you can’t do, you can’t do it, right?” 

“…Right?” Jihoon is being serious, but for the life of you, you can’t understand what he is trying to say. 

“How do I…” He hums, tapping his foot impatiently, “What I’m saying is that you don’t need to give yourself more work. Just do what jobs you can.” 

If you did that, then you’d barely be doing anything. 

“With you here, it gives the Hwarang something to stake its pride on. Do you understand?” He breaks his gaze with you to shrug slightly, “We’ll keep you safe, you don’t need to worry.” Your silence seems to miff him, “Don’t trust me?” 

“No, of course not!” You exclaim shortly, trying to keep your outburst to a minimum. 

“Then put on a brave face and don’t worry over what you can’t control,” he sighs, “that’s what everyone else here does.” 

“Commander…” you feel warm at his words of assurance. 

“I’ll stop lecturing you now,” Jihoon looks back to you, “I’m sorry for holding you.” He reaches for the cup of tea you’d brought him before looking back to his paperwork. 

“Thank you…” You know he’s driven by a ravenous determination to never look at Hong Jisoo or any other Demon out there, and that asking for help from others isn’t who he is, yet… To hear him say that in front of you, in and of itself, is some part of that resolve. Even though he can’t see you now, you give him a bow before you leave the room. 

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 1𝔰𝔱, 664 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s windy today, you noticed it first when you awoke, the hiss of air swarming in through unsealed cracks and pockets of air where the doors don’t meet their frames. You notice it still when the last of the leaves are stripped from their branches as you and Mingyu walk to the city center. And you’re noticing it now, the slice of the cold cutting through your clothes and chilling you to the bone. 

“It is almost winter, isn’t it?” Mingyu muses as he catches you shivering involuntarily, “The wind coming in from the coast isn’t helping. If this is what it’s like during the day, I kind of feel bad for the guys who patrol at night.” 

Your hands clench as he huffs out a laugh that turns into clouded vapors, “Are your hands cold? Want me to hold them for you?” 

You know he’s joking by the way you get flustered and tell him no, him laughing again as you continue to walk down the street. Looking up from your embarrassed haze, you spot someone walking towards you.

“Isn’t today great?” Junhui asks as he approaches, his arms outstretching as if to embrace the chilled air.

“Unfortunately, not all of us can act like human torches,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I still don’t know how you’re not affected by the cold.”

“Look at who’s talking Mr. I’ll-Break-Code-and-Wear-My-Summer-Clothes,” Junhui scoffs. Now that he mentions it, Mingyu is wearing his Hwarang blues, but the white cloth of his sleeves doesn’t look to be the thick linen typically worn during the colder months.

Even if Junhui was meaning to scold him, you know he means it in the friendliest way possible. Their friendship is wrought with things like this: what seems to be an argument but is really them caring for one another. You can’t help but chuckle at the two.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” Junhui asks when he catches your expression.

“She probably thinks your face is funny, you should really do something about that…” Mingyu pokes, a teasing cadence to his voice.

“It’s not that,” you shake your head, “I was just remembering the last time we met each other on your rounds, I was with Seungkwan and Soonyoung then.” The latter name brings a bitterness to your tongue, still unsure of how to feel about Soonyoung and Hansol leaving the Hwarang on such short notice. The two men’s faces turn sour at the mention of their friend.

“I just meant that with everything going on… it makes me a little nostalgic,” you say, trying to shake off the thought.

“The Hwarang’s changed,” Mingyu nods with a sigh, “Hell, so has everything else. Youngmin’s been promoted and all.”

Youngmin’s promotion didn’t mean he left the Hwarang entirely, but it meant he traveled often to speak with other generals and assess the threat of another Baekje plot. Rumors of Buyeo Pung raising an army in Goguryeo had been circulating recently, putting everyone on edge once again. You thought Youngmin’s promotion to be a good thing for the Hwarang, yet with Junhui and Mingyu’s reaction, they seem less than thrilled.

“We didn’t join to be the Crown’s guard dogs,” Junhui shakes his head. While the Hwarang had been surface level related to the Crown, only receiving orders when necessary, they now take orders directly.

“How is this going to change for everyone going forward?” You ask the pair, trying to focus on them and not the whirlwinds of conversations happening along the busy street.

“Well, if we really do need to fight against another one of Buyeo Pung’s rebellions, we won’t just be killing off the tail end of his followers. We’ll probably be put on the front lines.” Mingyu frowns, not too certain what to think of that idea.

“Supposedly, it was Yoon Jeonghan. He’s been making efforts to get Baekje back on its feet,” Junhui’s shoulders shrug, “Because of that I heard some factions of the revivalists are pissed at him because they were trying to win Pung’s favor.”

“He already had a target on his back within the Silla government for being a Baekje revivalist, he’s hated by most of the kingdoms now.” Mingyu muses, looking up to the sky for a moment. “Until something happens though, I suppose things are going to stay as they are.”

“And they will, it’s not like they can do anything about what the kings want to do,” Junhui nods. “They’ll only get involved once the king starts asking them to ration their food again to send it off to war.”

As you look around the street, you want to think that he’s right. The city kept thriving even under the threat of another invasion or war… Life continues regardless of what the higher powers of the kingdoms are plotting. You look up to Junhui, words falling out of you before you can catch them,

“I never realized you were so interested in politics.”

“Didn’t realize?” He looks slightly taken aback, his arms crossed over his chest, “What exactly did you think of me?”

“Uhm…” You cough into your hand, looking away from him, “Let’s continue our rounds. It’s nearly winter which means the sun’s going to start setting earlier...”

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 7𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The name Yoon Jeonghan had only been said once before, that you can recall. He seemed to be an instigator for a few of the Baekje-Silla skirmishes as of late and the kingdoms were desperate to find him. Yet, after a few negotiations with Tang and Silla leadership, it seems as if he had betrayed his loyalty to the Silla powers and had begun to help the two allies. You don’t know much about the logistics of it, but when Eunseok brings him up, you’re a bit startled by what he says.

“Yoon Jeonghan has been assassinated.” Eunseok states the news in the main hall, among the collection of captains who linger there after their morning practice.

“Are you serious?” Mingyu questions, “Do they know who did it?”

“Could have been someone from Silla or it could’ve been someone from the loyalists,” Junhui shrugs, “Hell, it could’ve been personal. If it was, I bet it was that Huang guy.”

“If he was going to get killed, I wish I could’ve done it myself,” Seungkwan sighs, crossing his arms.

“That’s not very funny, coming from you,” Junhui frowns as he looks at the other captain. “Weren’t we told to leave him alone?”

You’d never met Jeonghan, in fact, you barely know who he was or what he did. Yet somehow you feel that his death means something important to the kingdom, as if the already rising unease has skyrocketed.

“You all know the orders to leave him alone came from the Crown,” Eunseok nods gravely, “The rest of the kingdom isn’t going to see it that way. A scabbard belonging to a member of the Hwarang was left at the scene of his death. An official investigation by the Guard has been launched.”

“Is a scabbard really enough evidence?” You ask, feeling worry begin to claw its way down your spine.

“If it’s not I’m sure they’ll ‘find’ some more when it comes time,” Mingyu huffs as he looks back to Eunseok, “Who are they saying it belongs to?”

“They actually say it’s yours, Mingyu.” Eunseok frowns as the elder’s eyes widen.

“Really Kim?” Seungkwan sounds somewhat amused, “I wish you’d taken me along.”

“Cut it, Boo.” Mingyu’s voice is sharp as he motions to his waist, “My scabbard’s right here. If they’re going to make shit up they should at least do it better.”

“I don’t suspect you,” Eunseok points out and gestures to the others in the room, “I’m sure no one else here does either. Unfortunately, I’m not sure that the rest of the kingdom won’t try to pin the blame on you… I’m sure they’re having trouble finding the real culprit. Those who don’t think it’s you are looking at Huang Renjun, they say that he hired us to kill Yoon.” Was that the Huang that Junhui had mentioned earlier?  

“I’m sure most of the king’s chamber are eager to pin this on us though,” Junhui shakes his head, “Ever since the rumors of Baekje started again, the king only appointed staunchly pro-Royal Guardian and Guard nobles. Unless someone lied though, there’s no way this murder was done by one of us.”

“Unless Seungcheol decided to go and do it off the record,” Seungkwan notes, a slight smirk on his lips.

“How… is he these days?” Mingyu asks, a worried expression on his face. The last few times you’d come across him, he seemed to be acting stranger and stranger. Even if you didn’t want to believe it, something like this wasn’t far out of his realm of possibility. Whenever you pass him in the halls, it looks as if he’s hungry, thirsty for blood.

“We’ll have to be careful,” Junhui says, a hand running through his hair, “If we let people know about the Furies…”

“About that,” Jihoon interjects as he walks into the room, followed by Youngmin. It looks as if he’s going to say something else but the third figure that walks in takes everyone by surprise that whatever the commander is trying to say gets drowned out.

“Hansol?” Junhui nearly gasps out, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

For a moment, you question whether you’re asleep or not. The man who had just entered the hall was the same man who’d left months ago with Gongmyung and his men, Choi Hansol.

“Hansol,” Eunseok says, a smile overcoming him, “What happened with Gongmyung’s organization?”

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?” You ask him as you look at Hansol. “There’s no way the commander would allow someone from Gongmyung’s group here, we’re not even supposed to be talking to them—”

“Just,” Jihoon sighs out, trying to get the energy in the room to settle, “Let me talk. Starting today, Choi’s returned to the Hwarang.”

“What?” Mingyu sounds surprised, his once crossed arms falling to his sides. “Hold on, Lee, we’re glad he’s back but… What happened to Gongmyung?”

“You’re mistaken, but understandably so,” Hansol speaks, and you feel a sense of calm wash over you. It’s been too long since you’d heard him last. “I was never one of his supporters.”

“In fact, he joined Gongmyung under Jihoon’s direct orders,” Youngmin says with a coy smile, “As a spy, of sorts.” With the leader’s words, everything begins to make sense.

“I can’t believe you went off and had fun without me,” Seungkwan faux pouts at Hansol.

“I’m sorry we had to keep this from you,” Youngmin’s head bows down in apology. It’s a surprise for sure, but nonetheless a welcome one.

You give Hansol a small smile but he only sighs and shakes his head, “I’m afraid it’s a bit early to feel relieved.” His gaze turns to Jihoon, “The last six months have made Gongmyung’s intentions clear. Gongmyung plans to uproot the Hwarang institution in favor of his ideal one.”

“What do you mean by uproot?” Eunseok asks with a frown.

“Gongmyung is going to expose the Furies to force the king’s favor,” Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek as he holds in a scathing retort.

“There’s more,” Hansol adds and glances at Youngmin, “They plan to assassinate the Leader of the Hwarang.”

Youngmin’s face is tense, gaze hardening as he looks at Jihoon and waits for him to speak. You feel your stomach drop, not realizing the extent to which Gongmyung hated the Hwarang.

“The Guardians are moving to destroy us,” The commander says and looks to Mingyu, “You heard about Yoon?”

“That they’re trying to pin it on me?” A nod, “Yeah.”

“They’re using it to pin blame on us and to discredit your father,” Jihoon crosses his arms, “They’ve been spreading the rumor across Seorabeol, even if Huang says that he wasn’t the one who ‘hired’ us, there’s still going to be people who believe it was our doing.” His gaze travels to Hansol, “So, Choi’s going to be guarding Huang for the time being. If it looks like he left and then came back, it won’t be hard for Gongmyung to figure us out.”

A subtle nod from the captain, “Of course.”

The room stays quiet, so quiet that one can hear the wind whistling in from outside. A tension remains taught in the room, anticipatory for what’s to come and the outcome of what it brings.

“Kim Gongmyung…” The name leaves Jihoon in a hushed murmur, “It’s not enough for him to expose the Fury Corps, but to try and kill Youngmin too?” It’s almost as if he’s having a quiet conversation with his former comrade. He shakes his head, drawing his gaze from the floor and looks to the captains, “It’s too bad that it has to end this way, but we have no other choice. Gongmyung dies.”

“It can’t really be helped, can it?” Youngmin exhales, nodding solemnly as if to seal the former Deputy Commander’s fate.

“We’ll invite Gongmyung to Youngmin’s residence in Seorabeol, I’ll be there too,” Jihoon begins, his voice low, commanding, “Once he’s dead we’ll use his corpse to lure the rest of his Guardians there and kill them.” He looks to Mingyu and Junhui, “I’m assigning both of you and your divisions to this, take care of it.

“Who do you want me to kill?” Seungkwan asks, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword.

“No one, you’re staying here.” When he sees the other beginning to protest, the commander speaks again, “You’ve still got that cough, right? You’re sick. Hansol can keep you company for a few days.”

“So, you’re telling me I can’t participate in the assassination of a person who’s trying to kill our leader?” Seungkwan sounds agitated, a bitterness coating his words as he glares at Jihoon, “You’re a real asshole.”

You don’t realize that you’ve been watching the scene unfold in silent shock until you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see Hansol standing there, he seems to take in a breath before speaking.

“The Guardians of the Royal Tomb are going to be destroyed after this… If we want Soonyoung to return, this is our only chance of getting him back.”

Eyes widening at what he says, he’s right. If the Hwarang mean to kill the Guardians, that includes Kwon Soonyoung.

Sucking in a breath, you look at Jihoon, “Commander? What are we going to do about Soonyoung? He’s a part of the Guardians…”

“Don’t be silly,” Junhui says easily, “Of course we’ll save hi—”

“If he fights us, he dies.” Jihoon interrupts, cutting off the captain.

“You can’t mean that—” Heart beginning to pound in your chest, your mind going blank. Is Jihoon serious? “You’ve known Soonyoung for so long, surely you don’t mean that?”

Jihoon looks as if he wants to push you away, turning on his heels and exiting the main hall swiftly.

“You’re actually going to order them to kill Soonyoung?!” You cry out after him, finding yourself following his footsteps, “Just because he left the Hwarang means you don’t care if he lives or dies?!” Before you’re actually able to leave the main hall, a hand grabs the back of your robes and pulls you into the room.

“I know that he wants to save him too,” Youngmin’s voice says softly as you turn to face him, his hand letting go of your clothes. “There’s no way he could possibly live with giving the command to kill a friend who was part of our family for years.” His hands clench at his side, so much so his knuckles turn white and you fear his nails have pierced his skin.

In this moment you realize how much each of the Hwarang are suffering with this.

“I’m sorry for saying that,” you bow your head to him after your realization.

“There’s no need,” Youngmin sighs, “You’re angry. We all are. It makes me happy though, I’m glad people care about Soonyoung.” He lets out a heaving sigh before turning toward Mingyu and Junhui, “I’m not asking this as your Leader, but as Kwak Youngmin… Let Soonyoung live, if you can. Try to convince him to rejoin the Hwarang.”

“… Got it,” Junhui says quickly as Mingyu takes a moment more to think.

“His life in our hands?” He shakes his head, “That’s a big responsibility.”

“I trust everything’s clear, then?” Youngmin asks, scanning the faces of the captains, “If you have questions, now is the best time to ask.”

“…Wait,” you speak up, unable to stop yourself. The leader looks to you as you brace yourself, “I haven’t been given any orders. I want to help.”

“This is an… unseemly job.” Youngmin looks at you, brow contorted, “Nothing like Wonweol or Ongsan. You shouldn’t be involved.”

He’s right. This isn’t a mandated order from a higher official, this was the Hwarang’s business alone, a covert and self-righteous one at that. They aren’t meant to guard or patrol, they’re set on murder. Still, you want to do what you can.

“Please, let me be a part of it,” You implore, “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“This isn’t like anything else you’ve been a part of,” Junhui says gently, “You understand that, right?”

“We’re killing someone who used to be a Hwarang.” Mingyu adds soberly, unable to look you in the eye. “And even if we don’t want to, we may end up killing Soonyoung.”

“I know it’s serious.” The Hwarang, as prim and proper as they like to see themselves a majority of the time, have carried out these sorts of missions before. There wasn’t any way you could stay with them if you hadn’t known, but this burden was too much to bear alone. “If it’s too presumptuous, please tell me, but I consider myself a member of the Hwarang at this point. And because we’re going through this, I want to help however possible.”

“Tell me then, how do you intend to help?” Youngmin’s face has lost its usual warmth. Anger not cruelness takes shape on his expression, but the gravity of the situation at hand seems to age him a handful of years. He seems like a weathered general addressing his troops.

“I want to help with Gongmyung.”

Youngmin seems to stare at you, analyzing your thought process with fierce determination.

“Very well then,” he nods once, “You may accompany us.”

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 9𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Whether out of courtesy or want to humiliate his former leader, Kim Gongmyung accepts Youngmin’s invitation to his home several days after the plan to assassinate him came to be. Kwak Youngmin and Lee Jihoon stand at the head of the room, speaking quietly to one another before the sound of approaching footsteps enters the room. You stand in the corner of the dimly lit area as Gongmyung walks in, an air of proudness about him.

“Why am I honored with the privilege of being summoned here this evening?” Gongmyung asks, looking around the room. “I can surmise you wish to ask me something?”

“I called on you because I was hoping to have a discussion,” Youngmin says with a confident grin, “It’s about the current political climate. You, as well as me, must have seen that we need to come to a consensus on how to move on from here.”

“Let’s save the business talk for later,” Jihoon says, “Let’s try to get warmed up first.”

You move to sit at the small table set up in the center of the room, several bottles of gokaju littering the tabletop. Jihoon reaches out to pour Gongmyung a cup, the latter noting this,

“I never thought I’d see the day where Lee Jihoon pours me a cup of alcohol.”

“Don’t say it like that,” the commander chuckles, “I wasn’t faced with as formal an education as you, it just took me a bit to learn the proper etiquette. We’ve come to realize that you were right this whole time."

“With your politeness, I can’t help but feel a little… off.” Gongmyung notes as he lifts the glass of gokaju, “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

“Don’t trust me?” Jihoon shakes his head, moving to pour himself a cup before downing it quickly. “Not poisoned, am I?” An eyebrow quirked to the Guardian as he set down his glass.

“I never meant to offend—” Gongmyung states and sips from his cup.

The three continue to drink, you pouring most of the glasses, with Gongmyung becoming more and more reddened with the amount of alcohol the two Hwarang and you ply him with.

“Are you familiar with Dong Sicheng’s ‘On the State of Being’?” Gongmyung slurs his words together as he speaks to the two, “On what it means to find peace in the life you were given? That was written twenty years ago! Do you know how much has changed since the fall of Baekje?”

“You’re right,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “The Crown has implemented so many new things that I can’t quite keep up with it myself.”

“So, you agree!” Gongmyung nods vehemently, “And to add to that, they’re looking for help from the Tang to help educate the troops! And dress like them as well!”

“Is that true?” Youngmin asks, looking a bit taken aback.

“Of course, it is, all of my sources are very reliable,” Gongmyung says after downing another cup of gokaju. “If you ask me, this spells out a rocky relationship once this Baekje mess is over. If we leave ourselves with Tang customs, there’ll only be little left of Silla’s own design in its own kingdom!”

“I see…” Jihoon nods. His lips smile as if he agrees but a different, burning fire behind his eyes tells a different tale. “This means we’ll have to rethink a lot of things, right, Chief?”

“You’re right,” the shock that had once lain on Youngmin’s face is gone, replaced with a cheery smile. “Gongmyung, it would be such an honor if you would continue to guide us on such matters in the future.”

“Confucius once said: ‘Gentlemen are undignified if they are frivolous, and they aren’t stubborn after learning.’ So, yes,” Gongmyung nods, “Of course I’ll help you. If you all don’t open your minds to proper knowledge, you’ll just become hard-headed.”

“We may be on different paths, but we are headed for the same destination,” Jihoon nods, “Your glass seems empty, would you like another drink?”

“Yes, please.” Gongmyung motions towards his empty cup, “This gokaju is very easy to drink.”

“Here you are,” you say, pouring some of the contents of the bottle in your grasp into his drink. There isn’t poison within the alcohol, yet you were making Gongmyung drunk now to murder him later. Although this felt no more different than pouring poison into his glass.

“Your hands are shaking,” Gongmyung notes as you manage to drop a few beads of gokaju onto the table as you pull the bottle away from his glass, “You’re not feeling ill, are you?”

“Ah, don’t worry about him, he’s probably just nervous about speaking to you,” Youngmin waves it off with a small laugh.

“Am I that intriguing?” The Guardian chuckles as he looks at you.

“He does have his moments,” Jihoon says, his eyes flickering to you. “You need a little self-control sometimes.” His subtle message is clear: hide your emotions. It had been your choice to be here, the least you can do now is to not screw it up.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Gongmyung and move to wipe up the droplets with your sleeve.

“Oh, don’t be so boring,” Gongmyung laughs, “We’re having fun!”

“Truly a man worthy of distinction,” Youngmin nods as he looks at the man.

“You flatter me,” he sighs out with a smile, “Is there anything else you want to ask me? I can answer anything.”

The minutes turn into hours, Gongmyung is drunk, stumbling to the street as you, Youngmin and Jihoon follow him.

“Thank you for the meaningful conversation,” he says as he spins on his heels, looking towards Youngmin. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“It’s dark out,” Youngmin notes the dimness of the street, “Please be careful on your way back home.”

“There’s no one who would dare kill me in Seorabeol,” Gongmyung almost snickers at the thought, drunkenly sauntering away into the darkness of the city’s streets. You watch his silhouette fade into the blackness, noting that it would be the last time you’d see him alive. A hand on your shoulder has you looking away, turning, and you see Youngmin looking at you.

“…It’s a bitter taste, isn’t it?” The frown on his lips is telling as you sigh.

“It’s the path we chose,” Jihoon shakes his head, “Our duty. In order for us to do what’s right, sometimes we need to get our hands dirty.” You feel conflicted, unable to say anything as you stand on the quiet street. “This isn’t on you or Kwak, though,” the commander says, sensing your unease. “I was the one who orchestrated it, I gave the orders.”

What happened later that night is something you’d rather forget. Gongmyung, too inebriated to walk in a straight line, was quickly killed by the Hwarang waiting for him. But that didn’t end the night. Junhui was met with a bloody fight outside of the Guardians building, Seungkwan was faced with fate at Shoji. For many of the Hwarang, it is a night after which nothing would be the same.

The assassination of Kim Gongmyung and the dissolvement of the Guardians of the Royal Tomb comes to be known as the Samsil Incident. Both the Guardians and the Hwarang were surprised by the sudden appearance of the Royal Guard and the Demons who accompanied them. Both parties had fallen for the trap and the fight was thrown into a mass disarray.

As the battle of Samsil was taking place, the headquarters of the Hwarang came under attack from Hong Jisoo. Causing the already ill Seungkwan to further injure himself fending off the attacker.

The serum that your father brought to the Hwarang seems to only be a cause for worry. Slowly devouring the organization piece by piece. How long until the serum swallows them whole?

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 2𝔫𝔡, 664 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Barely a month since Gongmyung’s murder, since the Samsil Incident and the return of Soonyoung and Hansol, but the Hwarang feels nothing like it once was. A looming, dark atmosphere hangs over the headquarters. Many men had lost their lives or had been injured due to Jisoo’s attack, even more had been wounded in the fight of Samsil, Soonyoung being one of them. Several of the wang-do had seen him almost succumb to the injuries he’d sustained during the battle, due to this, he was pronounced dead but joined the Fury Corps shortly after. Hansol hadn’t been wounded, but many of the Hwarang began to call him a coward.

To them, his betrayal of leaving the Hwarang still runs deep, worsened as they saw him leaving the Guardians to change his fate. You see no reason why he shouldn’t correct them: he’d left to help the Hwarang, not deceive them. He claims that he’ll keep quiet on the matter, as to not tarnish both Youngmin and Jihoon’s names, who had ordered him to join Gongmyung. Due to this, it has been decided that Hansol will leave Shoji for the time being, until the hot-headed tempers of some of the Hwarang recede. He’s been sent to protect Huang Renjun, a Tang noble residing in the northern part of the kingdom.

The Samsil Incident was in no small terms a turning point for the Hwarang. For the men who knew only the surface level details, it seems as if it were just a battle between the Hwarang and their former comrades. Those better informed know that it is the causation due to a culminating fear of another Baekje rebellion. Yoon Jeonghan’s death solidified that as truth. And further still: the Hwarang are the only ones who know of the Demons, and Soonyoung’s transformation into a Fury. They’re the only ones who know Seungkwan’s illness has gotten worse.

Such an event riled the compound, a moment of silence scarce in the days following the battle. Feeling as you would only be in the way during this time, you keep to your room.

You’re sitting cross-legged at your desk, wondering if writing your thoughts down may help you try and conceptualize this all, when your door opens without a knock.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Seungcheol says as he steps into your room. “If you’d left, I wouldn’t have been able to search for you.”

“Seungcheol?” You look up to him, confused at his appearance. “It’s daytime, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Seungcheol nods his head, his voice sounding a little frantic. “I just had a revelation and had to share it with you immediately.” His eyes glitter with… a dangerous curiosity and you feel spindly cold fingers of dread scratch down your back.

“Why me?” Questioning carefully, “Wouldn’t you want to tell the Chief or Commander first?”

“…Well, it has to be you.” A small frown pulling at his lips, “Won’t you listen to me?” Although in the form of a question, the way he asserts himself lets you know you have no choice. “Sooyoung claimed you are from a Demon family, right?” He doesn’t allow you to respond before he begins to speak. “And as a Demon, you’re stronger, faster and more resilient than a human. Their superiority over humans was clearly displayed during their most recent attack.”

“I understand that,” you nod slowly, “But what are you trying to say?”

“A Demon possesses more power than the average human, it follows that the blood of a Demon possesses that power as well,” His deductions begin to unsettle you, despite that, he continues, “Perhaps even potent enough to counteract the madness of the Furies.”

You’re unsure how the pimul works, but Seungcheol’s explanation seems logical, even if he’s somewhat frenetic about it.

“Since before I became a Fury, I’ve been researching how the serum works, I know more about it than anyone here.” Seungcheol pauses and shakes his head, “Yet, I still have yet to discover the exact composition of it. I hypothesize, however, that a core ingredient is fresh blood… And I’m assuming not from a human. Perhaps there are Demons or Demon-like beings roaming throughout the other kingdoms.”

“So…” You trail off, still not able to follow him completely.

Seungcheol takes a step closer to you, falling to his knees as you continue to sit at your desk, “Your very existence could save the Fury Corps… No,” He shakes his head, “The entirety of the Hwarang.” His eyes turn sharp, piercing, even, as he looks at you. The barest trace of mania in his voice as he confesses his thoughts. His hand reaches for the sword at his hip, calmly and carefully drawing it from the scabbard.

There seems to be no madness or bloodlust in his movements, but that only serves to terrify you even more.

“I’m not going to kill you,” He tries to reassure you, but your heart’s beating too quickly and your limbs feel too heavy to move away from him, “I just want a sample of your blood…” Seungcheol begins to rise to his feet, that’s when you find yourself mirroring him, taking a step or two backwards to distance yourself from him.

The blade glimmers in the sunlight as he raises it, raising it towards you before you hear a shout from the hallway.

“Seungcheol, what the hell are you doing?!” Jihoon bursts into the room, quickly looking from the colonel to you as if to gauge the situation. “What’s going on here? Of all people, you should know not to draw your sword on someone in the compound, have you lost it?”

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol smiles when he sees him, “Please, give me a hand here. Convince her to cooperate with us.”

With an assertive quiet, Jihoon steps between you and Seungcheol. “Personal conflicts are forbidden, the O Gye apply to even us.”

The colonel stares at Jihoon for a moment, and then another before begrudgingly sheathing his sword.

“Did she do something to upset you?” Jihoon asks one it seems as if Seungcheol’s cooled down.

“I’m searching for a way to treat the madness caused by becoming a Fury, for the good of us all,” Seungcheol says simply, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.

“And that means you have to cut her?”

“It’s not like I’m going to kill her,” Seungcheol frowns and shakes his head, “I only need a little of her blood. We lost so many Furies during the attacks, many of our human wang-do as well. If we are to effectively use the men we have left— We need to find a way to temper their madness. Surely you understand this, Jihoon.”

“The code says we’re to trust one another,” His gaze hardens at the colonel, “It doesn’t look like she’s very trusting of you right now. No matter your reasoning, I cannot condone this if either party is unwilling, or coerced into submitting.”

“It’s not as if she’s one of the Hwarang,” Seungcheol points out.

“Maybe not, but she’s been here long enough to might as well be one.” The two continue to stare at each other for a while, their stubbornness present at the matter.

Seungcheol eventually sighs, “It isn’t like you to be this soft. I’ll leave for now. But if we don’t find a way to suppress the side effects of the pimul… Even Soonyoung will suffer like the rest.” He leaves on that note, you don’t exhale until you hear his footsteps wane away into nothing.

Jihoon hums, looking at the door and then turning to you, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes,” You nod, “Thank you…”

“Nothing to thank me for,” He bows his head, “I was making sure he was adhering to our code.” His gaze returns to the door, “In the past, he wouldn’t have challenged me like that.”

A slow nod as your eyes find the door, lingering there for a moment. It’s turn, Seungcheol had been acting more and more strange lately. He would never have drawn his sword aggressively, or demanded things from you without consulting the other Hwarang first. “… I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong with you?” Jihoon questions, his attention turning rapt to you, “There isn’t anything to be apologetic for.”

“The reason he was acting like that…” You frown, “Because Jisoo destroyed the Fury Corps.”

Jihoon seems to reflect on this for a moment before responding, “I think you’re confused.”

“Hong Jisoo has allied himself with our enemies, be it in the court or Baekje. If an enemy attacks us, it’s known that we’re going to put our lives on the line to stop them.” There’s conviction in his voice yet you cannot help the guilt that invades you.

“It isn’t your sole duty to protect me, though.”

“What are you trying to say?” His arms cross as he tilts his head, “Want us to hand you over to the Demons in the hopes they’ll spare our lives? Just because they’re more powerful than us? That isn’t how we work.” Jihoon’s confident in his claim, and you feel no way to object to it. Even if he won’t say it, having you leave the compound would make their live exponentially less dangerous, it would be a violation of the values they pride themselves in upholding.

“I’m sorry if what I said was out of line,” apologizing once more, you bow your head.

“I already told you to stop apologizing, don’t make me repeat myself,” He murmurs under his breath, timidly looking in your direction. “The next time something like this happens, tell me. Don’t keep it to yourself.”  

“I understand,” you look at him and nod. Jihoon then turns to leave, but there’s one thing left you have to say.  “Commander…”

He stops and looks back to you, “Is there something else?”

“Is there anything I can help you all with?” With Youngmin busy with the Crown, Hansol protecting Huang and Jihoon himself tirelessly working, you feel wrong not aiding in some way.

“Help?” He sounds almost incredulous. Has he become upset at your question?

“It could be anything…”

The silence stretches throughout the room, saturating the space for a moment.

“You may be more discreet than some of our men…” He seems to muse for a second, “Brush and paper.”

“Huh?” You ask, looking at him with confusion.

“Do you have a brush and paper?” Jihoon asks as he glances around your room.

“Of course,” you reply and quickly rummage around your room for the materials. After a few moments you gather the items and he sits at the desk in your room, staying silent as he quickly begins to draw. It looks to be a rudimentary map of sorts, having you question, “What is… that?” He ignores you and continues to draw.  

“Hansol is in Noseo-dong guarding Huang, right?”

“Right,” you nod, looking down to the paper.

“I want you to visit him,” Jihoon says before gently blowing air onto the ink, hoping to dry it faster. “Do you think you can? You won’t stand out as much as one of our men.”

“Yes, of course,” You say enthusiastically, excited to do something, and even more overjoyed that it’s especially catered to you.

“I drew you a map,” He says, lifting the edges of the paper and handing it to you, “So you don’t get lost.” Without it, you may have, only really knowing the select routes of several of the captains’ patrol when it’s your turn.

“I’ll get going, then.” Taking the parchment into your grasp, you begin to turn on your heels towards the door before the commander stops you.

“It’ll be hard to deliver a message you haven’t heard…” His voice stops you in your tracks and you whip around to face him, “I know it’s been a while since you’ve been out,  but you’re getting a little too excited.”

“I’m sorry!” Exclaiming with widened eyes as you look at him.

As you speak, he quickly writes something down on another piece of parchment, he lets it dry for a moment, carefully folding the paper before handing it to you. “This is a letter for Captain Choi, make sure you don’t drop it… or lose it.”

“I’ll be very careful,” you say as the parchment folds in your grasp, “Is there anything you want me to say to him?”

“Everything I need to say is in that letter,” he nods, glancing at the paper.

“I’ll be off then,” you state and hurriedly leave the room, anxious to begin your mission.

The streets of Seorabeol are busy once again, the crowds closely knit together, not allowing you any space to slide past the throng of bodies. Jihoon’s map, unfolded haphazardly in your hands, guides you to Noseo-dong and leads you through several side streets, winding your way around the district until you come upon one of the most unassuming inns you have ever seen. On the map, Jihoon had written that Hansol’s name should be under ‘Seola’.

Making your way inside, you walk to who you presume to be the innkeeper, you ask to speak with your friend and they’re off, Hansol walking out shortly after.

“A Ha—I mean Seola,” you say with a nod, “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Oh,” he says, almost genuinely surprised, “I didn’t realize they’d send you.”

“I’m sure you weren’t expecting someone as inexperienced,” You give out a short laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head to dismiss your thought, “I was only surprised. I expected to receive new orders soon, but I didn’t expect that you’d be the one to deliver them.”

“Ah, well, I asked if there was anything to do to help and…” You mutter, reaching for the letter you’d tucked away on your belt.

“I can see the commander’s thinking,” Hansol muses and reaches out to take the parchment, “It’s a good plan. Any other Hwarang would’ve drawn unnecessary attention to this place. The new members can’t be trusted yet, either. You, on the other hand, can move unnoticed, and your loyalty is beyond question. He really did make the best choice.”

The captain’s explanation makes you realize how much Jihoon had thought the plan through, not merely giving you the task on a whim.

Hansol then unfolds the letter, scanning its contents before lighting it on a nearby lantern and watching the paper disintegrate into ash on the ground.

“Uh, Captain Choi?” You begin but he cuts you off.

“Seola.”

“Ah, right. Seola,” you retract your words and begin anew, “Is it okay to burn that?”

“I’ve read it and know what it says,” his shoulders shrug, “There’s no reason to leave evidence lying around. Thank you for delivering it.”

By the time you return to Shoji, the sun has already dipped below the horizon, dusk coolly falling onto the compound as the bite of winter sinks its teeth into you. Breath coming out in short puffs only to quell as you enter the main hall, you find the space empty. You’re surprised, hoping to see at least one of the captains loitering around, but none are present. So, you make your way to Jihoon’s quarters to report that you’d succeeded in handing the letter off to Hansol.

“Commander?” You ask, knocking on his door.

“Come in,” you hear after a moment and open the door, stepping into his room. His room still lay adorned with documents as he sits at his desk, the glow of the lantern in the corner of his room providing a shimmering light onto him. “Thank you for taking care of that,” Jihoon says as he looks up to you from his work, “How was Hansol?”

“He’s his usual self,” simply said as he nods his head.

“That’s good,” a sigh and you wonder what’s come over him. His mood seems more sour than when you left him earlier in the day.

“I’m sorry,” you say, unsure of how to go on with your conversation.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrows, “Did you lose the letter? Or did you not even make it to the inn?”

“Nothing like that—”

“Then why did you apologize?”

“I thought you’d be angry since I’d taken so long to get back…” You lead off, eyes breaking from his gaze and settling on the floor.

He sighs, as if relieved what you said wasn’t dire, “I’m not mad at you. It may surprise you that I have other things to worry about than just you.”

“Oh of course,” You say quickly, “I never meant to imply that— ”

Jihoon’s expression softens and he gives a short chuckle, shaking his head as he tries to contain himself. It does warm you a bit, knowing that he isn’t as worked up as you thought him to be.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you so upset earlier?”

“As you know,” he sighs, “there have been some issues in the Hwarang. Things are becoming more strained with the higher-ups as well.

“The higher-ups?”

“Ah, you’re practically one of us so I should tell you,” the happiness from seconds ago fades as his brow furrows, “Word is, Buyeo Pung is on the move again, this time backed by Goguryeo.” Does this mean that there would be a bigger battle than that of Baekgang or Ongsan? Jihoon’s lips purse and he shakes his head, “We’re not sure of their movements until they strike first. Then again, it’s not like worrying about it will do any of us good.” With each sentence, there’s another sigh, knowing the decisions made now will impact the whole of the Hwarang in the future.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Was running off to Noseo-dong not enough for you?” He questions with a piqued eyebrow.

“No… But if the Hwarang need help, I feel more than obliged to lend a hand.”

“You know what?” His eyes linger on his paperwork, “No matter how much you work, you’re different from Hansol, Chan, or Wonwoo. And you wouldn’t be able to do the dirty work that I give Junhui or Mingyu, either. Assigning duties to my men isn’t as easy as I’d like it to be.” Every one of his words feels like a knife to your gut, even if he has a point.

“I understand that I’m not a warrior like the rest of you,” you begin with a deep breath, “But I see how hard everyone is working and it makes me feel bad if I just sit around and don’t do anything.” Head bowing and your eyes looking to the floor, “Just let me help out in any way I can…”

Jihoon sits quietly for a moment before sighing out a “Damn…”, you hear him move to stand, his footsteps nearing you and his hand gently placed under your chin. His hand raises your face until your eyes are locked with his, the proximity of him so close to you sets your skin on fire. The commander’s eyes seem to pierce through you, the intensity churning your stomach.

“You say that you want to help,” he says as you nod your head, his hand still planted under your chin, “Why?” You can’t find the words immediately, and as you think, he speaks again, “Is it because you want to make a name for yourself? Or do you want us to recognize your efforts and reward you accordingly?”

“That’s not it,” confidence riddled in those three words as you speak.

“Then why put yourself through all of this?”

“For everything you all have done for me…” You frown, the pads of his fingertip’s abrasive on the underside of your chin. “There were times you all put your life on the line, people got hurt… The Hwarang have protected me time and time again. I just want to give back. I don’t want to regret anything anymore.”

 Jihoon’s hand falls away from you and he sighs, speaking with a low voice, “Then stop bowing so easily. You think you’re right. Why apologize if you believe yourself to be true?” Your eyes widen at his words, slowly realizing what he’s trying to convey. “If you believe in something then never yield to someone else. Hold your head up high and walk tall, you won’t win if you can’t even see the prize because you’re looking down at your feet.”

His words spark something in you, an understanding of his mindset and attitude towards life. So, you look at him, trying to match your gaze’s intensity with the blooming fires behind his eyes.

“I want to help. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

A small smile flickers onto Jihoon’s lips as he takes a step back from you, “If you want to help so much, how about you make some tea?”

“Alright,” you nod assertively, and the smile lingers on the commander’s face.

“The fate of the Hwarang rests on this tea, you know.”

“Leave it to me!” You say loudly, brushing past him and out of the room, racing as fast as you can towards the kitchen. Yet, before you leave, you can hear Jihoon mumble to himself,

“What’ll happen to us now…”

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 11𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔎𝔦𝔪 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔨𝔪𝔦𝔫’𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Baekje is trying to restore itself once more. News from Goguryeo solidifies King Munmu’s fears a few days into December, after a skirmish breaks out on the Silla-Goguryeo front. At first it was thought to be Goguryeo troops, but with Buyeo Pung leading the charge himself, it’s quickly realized that the kingdom is once again trying to establish itself.

More and more soldiers begin to flock to Seorabeol in anticipation of the oncoming onslaught, purges of Baekje loyalists once again resume and a tension lies in the air as if a cord is about to snap and set everything loose. With each passing day, news comes from the north of the collecting armies, as well as from the east, where former Baekje citizens have begun to rebel against the Silla leadership. As the Crown draws in its allies, seeking out aid from Tang once more, they call upon the Hwarang to aid in the upcoming battle.

The Hwarang reside at Kim Seokmin’s residence, Mingyu’s father’s home a little way outside of the city. While his father remains locked in the capital as plans are drawn, the residence is being used as a base of operations for the Hwarang, and not just those from Seorabeol.

“Everyone!” A voice shouts from the outer courtyard of the home, a wang-do bursting into the main room, sweat dotting their brow and his eyes looking frantic. “The Chief’s been shot!”

There were no witnesses, and the culprit escaped unnoticed. The motives unsure.

“What the hell?” Junhui frowns, “What asshole uses a bow in the city?” The captain leaves the residence shortly after collecting a group of men to survey the scene of where Youngmin had been attacked.

The arrow pierced the leader’s right shoulder, the head lodging into bone and shattering it. It requires more treatment than you can provide.

The sun had gone down when the door to the main room opened again, Seungcheol striding in the room, looking surprised to see you. “You’re still awake?”

“Colonel Choi…” You note, “If you need to use this room I’ll leave.”

“I don’t mind,” he shakes his head, “Rather, I think it’s best that you stay here.” His words are confusing, anxiousness rising in your stomach as you recall the last time you’d been alone with him.

Just as he finishes speaking, the captains of the Hwarang file into the room, somber expressions dotting their faces. Your anxiousness only continues to heighten.

“… Looks like everyone’s here,” Jihoon muses as the door is closed to allow you all a bit of privacy.

“Where’s Seungkwan?” Seungcheol asks, scanning the faces for the missing captain.

“He shouldn’t hear this,” Jihoon shakes his head, “If he learns about Kwak, he wouldn’t think twice about his safety and run off to find vengeance.”

“But if that’s what he wants, why wouldn’t you let him?” Seungcheol points out, “Again, being too kind, Jihoon.”

“What did you want from us?” Mingyu’s voice rises, directed towards the colonel. “We don’t know when the fighting’s going to start, for all of us to be here right now… Don’t tell me—”

“It’s exactly that.” Seungcheol nods. “I asked you to come with the intention of giving you something.” In his hands, you now see, is a bundle of cloth that he slowly unwraps before you all. What you see makes you take in a sharp breath of air.

“Pimul?” Hansol frowns, eyeing the vials of red liquid in the colonel’s hands.

“As captains of the Hwarang, we took on the risks of researching this,” a slow nod, “In doing so, it’s necessary for us to take responsibility for this experiment. Especially if any of you become injured and unable to fight. Or in the worst case, there’s a possibility that you may lose your own life.” Moving the vials to one hand, he picks up one in his other and examines it in the lantern light of the room, “I know for certain that this serum will be of use to you.”

“Colonel…” Junhui says slowly, “Are you trying to experiment on us too?”

“I know your hesitation,” Seungcheol snips, dropping the vial back into the pile with an audible clink, “But under our current circumstances, we cannot afford to lose any more of our captains.”

“Fuck that,” Junhui frowns, “I don’t want to depend on that shit to survive.” With that, he storms past the group of captains with heavy footfalls, swinging open the door before leaving.

“Maybe this would be something of a good luck charm…” Eunseok suggests, his eyes warily looking over the vials. “I hope it never comes to the point where we use the serum.” Seungcheol extends the pile to the captains.

“I don’t think I’ll use it,” Mingyu murmurs as both he and Hansol pick up a vial, “but I’ll keep it just in case…”

Until this moment, Jihoon had remained silent, listening to Seungcheol’s speech.

“Take responsibility, huh?” Eyes looking troubled, the commander reaches for a vial and pockets it, almost as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge its presence, “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“I believe that’s all I have to say for tonight.” Seungcheol nods as he folds the now empty cloth, “I hope this courtesy doesn’t go to waste.” After he finishes, the captains slowly file out, leaving you alone with Seungcheol once more.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this,” He sighs and looks to you, “But don’t let any word of this reach the other Hwarang, do I make myself clear?”

Nodding your head timidly, the colonel stays for another moment before leaving.

The serum that your father created now lies in the hands of the Hwarang captains. The serum that had entrenched them into the world of Demons and a life they should never have had to think about.

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 16𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔎𝔦𝔪 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔨𝔪𝔦𝔫’𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “We still haven’t figured out who shot the Chief?”

“I bet you anything it was some of those Guardian bastards!”

“No way, it was probably the Baekje loyalists—”

Ever since the attack on Kwak Youngmin, the atmosphere at Kim Seokmin’s residence had been wrought with speculation and tension. This tension ever more present as you step into the main room with a tray of tea for the captains.

“Thanks,” Mingyu says as you enter, “Can you just leave it here?”

A nod as you set down the tray, it seems as if you’d walked in on an important discussion.

“What’s the plan, then?” Junhui questions whomever he’d been speaking to. “Gaozong wants power in exchange for helping us, but they’re also hoping not to get as involved as they were at Baekgang. They know a war’s coming and they’re trying to extort Munmu for all he’s worth.”

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong,” Jihoon sighs out from the head of the table. “There’s nothing you or I could do about that though. We follow the Crown and not Gaozong.”

“In regard to sending our men to the front line…” Wonwoo speaks up, “Colonel Choi’s been pushing to implement the Furies.”

“I disagree with that,” Mingyu frowns, “This is war, not a massacre. There’s going to be both enemies and allies on the field, we won’t be able to control them. It’s not that they’re not powerful, it’s just too risky.”

“Agreed,” Junhui nods, crossing his arms as he leans back in his seat, “And inhumane too.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Hansol questions, looking at the captain. “If you’re so vehemently against it, you should offer an alternative.”

“We’re working on that.” Junhui grumbles, his voice raising, “If it were so easy do you think we’d be in this mess?”

“Commander,” Wonwoo looks at Jihoon, “What do you think?”

“… Let me think.” A deep exhale from Jihoon as he straightens himself in his seat, “We need to know the movements of Baekje before anything else, as well as prioritize what the Crown wants and, inadvertently, what Tang wants as well.” With the war inching closer and Youngmin’s injury, everyone in the Hwarang had been and is still on edge.

You leave the meeting sometime after then, never finding out what solution the men had come to. Later in the day, as the sun sinks over the horizon, you find yourself at Seungkwan’s door, anxious to check on his condition.

“Captain Boo?” You ask, gently opening the door and stepping inside, “How are you—huh?” Upon entering, you find that Soonyoung had come along to keep the captain company as well.

 “What are you doing up so late?” Soonyoung asks as he looks to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well um… people may get the wrong idea if a girl visits a man’s room at night…” The young captain trails off, obviously flustered.

“You know that Seungkwan and I aren’t…”

Soonyoung laughs, “Yeah, yeah… That’s not really your kind of thing, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’?” Soonyoung snickers, “Come on…”

“Why are you here?” Seungkwan, not seeming to be in a playful mood, cuts into the conversation, “I assume you have a reason for visiting me?”

“Oh, yes, well… I came to check up on you.” Returning to the reason you’d come in the first place, you look to the captain, “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can get you?”

“Of course not,” his expression bitter, “Look at what’s going on.” After a moment of silence, he speaks to you, “Is that all? You can go now.” His aggression taking you by surprise, you falter for another moment before coming to your senses to bring up what had been bothering you.

“Do you all know?” Another pause, “That Colonel Choi wants to… use the Furies.”

“Of course…” The grin that was adorning Soonyoung’s face drops.

“If you were him,” Seungkwan sighs, “Wouldn’t you want to do the same? They need numbers or they’ll never make a name for themselves. I mean, it’s a given once they can’t function anymore, they’ll need to be cut off.”

“Cut off…”

“We’re not all good-doers,” the captain shakes his head, “we can’t go around giving food to everyone we see who needs it. I mean, yeah, you mooched off of us for years, but that was entirely your good luck. Don’t forget that.”

“I guess you have a point…”

“Seungkwan you’re being a bit of a jackass,” Soonyoung frowns at the other captain. “It was our fault she was brought to the Hwarang.”

Seungkwan sneers at the statement, clearly unmoved, he continues his grievances. “And what the hell is Jihoon doing? He should be kicking himself in the ass for not apprehending the men that hurt Kwak.” A frustrated sigh, “If I weren’t—If I weren’t like this, I’d go out and do it myself.”

His bedrest is clearly getting to him. He’d known Youngmin, long before either of them had joined the Hwarang.

“What do you think, Soonyoung?” A glance towards the other as you ask.

“Me? I, uhm, well…” He hums, “I did drink the serum but… I was worried about what would happen to me. Seungcheol wants more men in the Fury Corps, and says we’ll never win otherwise. But I don’t like the idea of forcing the Hwarang to join us, even if they’ve broken our code.” The demeanor he has is unlike the one you remember from when you’d first met him, it’s cold and stern. Recalling how he used to be, sadness overcomes you.

“No matter what Seungcheol says, it’s Jihoon that makes the call.” Seungkwan says, crossing his arms.

“You’re right.” Soonyoung says, a frown pulling at him, “But the Corps already exists, it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t.”

“Then maybe we should use them, then.” Seungkwan mumbles, “They can hold a sword, at least.”

The power of the Furies is something that would ultimately be beneficial to the Hwarang, should they need to utilize their power for the war effort. Yet, once the war was over… You struggle to think of what would be done with them after. Fearing the answer, you don’t press the matter further.

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 17𝔱𝔥, 664 – 𝔎𝔦𝔪 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔨𝔪𝔦𝔫’𝔰 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It should be no surprise to you by now that an unexpected visitor, be it friend or foe, should stop in on you at any time now. Such an occasion occurs, with a friend, this very morning.

“It’s been too long,” Sooyoung’s voice calls out to you as you walk outside the front gate of the Kim residence, one of the captains had alerted you to her and Seulgi’s presence and you came as quickly as you could.

“What brings you here?” You ask, an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“We have business with your leader, could you go and get him for us?” Seulgi responds, glancing towards the interior doors of the home.

“Oh… the Chief isn’t really in good condition to meet with people, I could go and get the Commander—”

“That’ll do fine as well,” Sooyoung nods with a smile before you’re off to summon Jihoon.

After you’d let the two women inside, as well as summon the commander, the four of you stand in the main hall. Jihoon looks over the two warily before crossing his arms, “This is unexpected, to say the least. What do you want?”

“I apologize for intruding again, but it’s important that I speak to you.” Sooyoung begins, her expression turning stony as she speaks to the commander, “I’ve come to discuss your… Furies.”

You’d been about to excuse yourself to make tea for the group, but upon hearing Sooyoung’s statement, you freeze in place. Jihoon seems to tense as well, a downward curvature of his lips etching into his face. “I won’t waste your time or mine—how long do you intend to keep them in your service?”

“What do you mean?” Crossed arms, stern gaze, the signs that Jihoon is on the defensive yet again.

“You’ve kept them imprisoned here long enough; I think you know what I’m saying.” Her words turn bitter midway through her statement, “Even the Crown has admitted to this failed experiment. They are too much for the Hwarang to handle. With Jisoo on your trail, it would be best for you to wash your hands of them.”

“Is it up to you to decide if they’re a failure or not?” Jihoon questions, letting out a sigh, “We’ve done our research, I’m not sure you have the authority to judge us.”

“Then are you aware that the Hwarang’s Furies have been murdering people on the streets to test their strength?” Seulgi asks, her gaze narrowing at Jihoon.

His eyes go wide, muttering a “What?” before looking at her. For a split second, his veneer of put togetherness fades and confusion and worry situates itself on his brow. And then it’s gone, his composure returning and frown reappearing.

“Where did you hear that?”

“There’s no reason for me to tell you…” Seulgi states, “My sources are reliable, and that’s all you need to know. Your job is to protect Seorabeol, is it not? And yet you let your men who’ve succumbed to madness wander its streets and kill its civilians. It disgusts me, Commander.” Her eyes bore into Jihoon’s, “Before all of Silla knows of your failure, I strongly suggest you disband your Fury Corps.”

Her logic is sound, no matter how scathing she is towards the Furies. The room falls silent, you can almost hear Jihoon’s thoughts racing in his head.

Sooyoung stops him, however, speaking up, “We can quiet this conversation for a moment, there’s something else I would like to address.” With that, she looks to you, “Will you still not leave with us?” The question simple, her eyes wide, “I know we spoke of this before, but with the current climate… I fear your safety here is jeopardized more and more with each passing day.”

 You know that war is coming, everyone in the room does. Yet to hear Sooyoung insinuate it adds even more weight to it all.

“Are you suggesting that we can’t handle it?” Jihoon says, anger tinged by his words.

“The truth is hard to accept sometimes,” Sooyoung turns to him, “If Hong Jisoo shows up, can you protect her? If he comes while you’re amid battle to take her away, can you protect her then?” She’s angry, her tone rising as the commander stays quiet, “She’s a Demon, not a human. She should be with her kind; we can protect her.” Looking back to you, she pleads, “If you’re with us then their entire effort can go towards the war and battles to come.”

Each word is a blow to your chest, guilt wrought upon you for even thinking that your presence among the Hwarang wasn’t detrimental to them. Meeting with Jihoon’s gaze says nothing, he averts his eyes as you’re left to make a decision.

You’re sure Sooyoung is right, yet you can’t find the words to say that.

“What do you say?” Sooyoung asks, her voice returning to a normal, soft level. You know she wants what’s best for you, even if her means aren’t the kindest towards those you’ve begun to hold dear to you.

Jihoon, however, sees right through you.

“You don’t want to leave, do you?” The question is simple as it leaves him, and he knows your answer before you even say it. “Then don’t, stay. There isn’t much else to think about if your mind’s already set.”

“Is that really okay?” The implication behind you staying is far more dangerous than that of you leaving. Is Jihoon saying that he wants you to stay?

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” He shakes his head, “What proof do we have that they can keep your secret any better than we can? If that bastard’s after you too—Well, if we’ve got the same enemy, wouldn’t it make sense to stick together?”

“So… I can stay?”

“What kind of question is that?” Voice gruff as he huffs out, “If you were as much of a pain in the ass as you think yourself to be, I would’ve kicked you out years ago.”

A smile, small and timid, curling your lips, “Thank you, Commander.”

The four of you disperse moments later, you leading Sooyoung and Seulgi to the front gate of the home before the first woman stops you just as you reach the gate.

“So,” she says with an apologetic tone, “You’ve turned me down again, haven’t you?”

“I appreciate your offer,” a nod of your head, “but my place is here.”

“It’s alright,” another apologetic smile, “If you’re so determined to stay then there’s no way I would’ve gotten you to leave with me… And… When you told me that you were staying because you were, ah, interested in someone, did you mean the Commander?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question.

“To be honest,” you begin, the toe of your shoe scraping atop the dirt of the ground, breath coming out in puffs of white air, “I don’t know him all too well, but…” The words stutter out of you, not sure how to explain yourself or because you, too, cannot comprehend your feelings towards the Hwarang. “The men here call him the Demon Commander because of his harshness and strict nature, a lot of people think he’s cold because of that… But I think it’s his way of showing kindness, there’s warmth there that isn’t seen too often yet…” You don’t realize that you’re rambling as you continue, “He’s responsible for most of the Hwarang, it’s not like he has a choice whether he can act like that or not, either. I’m not sure what I can do for him, but I’d like to stay and do whatever I can.”

“He really has you wrapped around his finger,” Sooyoung hums to herself, “Not that I think he sees that, though…” After giving her a confused look, she continues, “They say my ancestor fell in love with a human and followed him to the capital. I'm their granddaughter so I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from… Rank and circumstance, whether human or Demon, mean little before the eyes of love.”

Wait. Wait… “What?” You squeak out, “Love?! I never—Sooyoung, I never said I love him.”

Her hand only finds your shoulder as she sighs and continues, “A human and a Demon, there’s something romantic about that, I think… Don’t think it’s destined to fail, either.”

“Sooyoung…” Seulgi calls out, probably to save you from dying of embarrassment, “We should get going.”

“Ah,” her hand lifted from your shoulder, “You’re right.” The Demon looks to you, “Take care of yourself, please. Don’t underestimate Hong Jisoo, he’s more powerful than I’d like to imagine.” A slow nod as she sighs, “If you need to contact me, please send a letter to Seulgi.”

“Thank you, Sooyoung.” And with that, the pair are gone through the front gate. Your mind, however, lingers on Sooyoung’s words. Rank and circumstance mean little before the eyes of love… But was your desire to be close to Jihoon that? You want to be around him, to help him… The most important thing for him is the Hwarang, he’d invested his life into this organization, and put everything he is into it. With war on the horizon, he doesn’t have the time to think of anything else.

As dusk descends on the compound, you find that the men of the Hwarang are ravenous. You would expect nothing less from men who spend their days training and patrolling and spend their nights doing the same as well. Any food given is gone as soon as it reaches their plate and you offer any that you have, finding yourself forgoing dinner tonight in favor of a younger member of the Hwarang getting a meal.

With pangs of hunger rattling through you, you decide to stave it off by going to the kitchens to either drink some water or make yourself some tea. Your hands gently clenching at your stomach as you walk, you almost don’t hear the voice behind you.

“Was that your stomach?” Turning, you see the Hwarang’s Commander stopped to look at you, “I know the wang-do ate all of the food, did they not leave you any?”

“I’ll eat later,” you nod, fingers still at your sides as you try to stop another growl from escaping your gut. “I’m alright.”

“I didn’t ask if you were alright,” arms folded across his chest, “I asked if you’ve eaten.”

“Well, um,” a shake of your head, “no, not yet.”

“Really,” he huffs, almost incredulously, as he reaches for the bag slung around his shoulder. He rummages around inside of it for a moment before grabbing something and tossing it to you. Unwrapping it from the cloth, you find that it’s one of  the balls of rice that you’d made for the captains.

“Commander, this is yours—”

“Just eat it,” he grits his teeth and the two of your gazes settle on the disputed food. After a moment of silence, he sighs and moves to break it in half, “Don’t tell me you’re rejecting my kindness… If we halve it will it make you feel better?” Taking his half in his free hand, he offers the other chunk out to you.

You grab your half, “… Thank you.”

The two of you eat in silence, before Jihoon speaks again, “Stop worrying so much about the other men and eat what you deserve. Okay?”

“I’ll be sure to do that next time…” you nod as your hand drops to your side after finishing the food.

“I wasn’t trying to lecture you,” Jihoon’s voice goes soft before muttering, “… thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll let the men eat what they want and get my own food another time,” you shake your head, “They need it more than me—”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” he coughs to clear his throat, “I meant to say thanks for staying. You decided to stay with us.”

Was the commander happy that you decided not to go with Sooyoung?

“What’s with the funny face?” The commander asks and you feel a swell of emotion come over you. “Was that not enough food?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, “It was fine.”

Jihoon nods as he tucks the cloth back into his bag and looks towards the entrance of the home, “I’m going to leave you in charge for now before I go out on my rounds. Take care of this place, okay?” There’s a small smile on his lips as he asks you.

“Of course,” you say, returning the smile. And with that, the commander turns on his heels and strides out of the front entrance to the home, heading off to his duties in Seorabeol.

yours, always and forever | jeonghan

Author: bratzkoo | beta read by: @spnyin Pairing: perfumer! jeonghan x estrange wife! reader Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 5.9k Warnings/note: went on a shopping trip with my mom and i cried when i smelled rose kabuki by dior. Happy National Boyfriend's Day to our boyfriend, Jeonghan.

summary: Perfumer Yoon Jeonghan took the Perfume industry by storm with his intriguing perfume names that seems to be inspired by one specific person which makes the industry question, who is he even naming his creations after? Only Y/N, Jeonghan’s estrange wife knows the answer.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The soft glow of the setting sun painted the New York skyline in hues of gold and pink, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern interior of the penthouse apartment where Yoon Jeonghan stood, gazing out at the city he'd conquered. In his hand, a delicate crystal glass held a swirl of amber liquid, its aroma mingling with the lingering scents that always clung to him—a symphony of olfactory notes that had become his signature.

Jeonghan took a sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. His eyes, dark and intense, reflected the city lights beginning to twinkle in the twilight. At thirty-two, he was at the pinnacle of his career, a prodigy in the world of perfumery, and the toast of the fashion and beauty industries. For the third year in a row, the title of Perfumer of the Year sat comfortably on his shoulders, a crown he wore with a mixture of pride and nonchalance that only added to his allure.

The gentle ping of his phone drew his attention away from the view. Another congratulatory message, no doubt. They had been pouring in all day, ever since the announcement of his latest triumph. Jeonghan ignored it, choosing instead to walk over to his workspace—a sprawling, custom-designed lab that took up nearly half of his living area.

Here, amidst the orderly chaos of beakers, pipettes, and countless vials of essences and extracts, was where the magic happened. This was where he crafted the scents that had taken the world by storm, perfumes that didn't just smell divine but told stories, evoked memories, and stirred emotions in ways that left critics and consumers alike in awe.

Jeonghan's fingers trailed over the labels of his latest collection, a small smile playing on his lips as he read each name aloud:

"You, in the Garden."

"You, in Greece."

"You, in the Club Holding Your Favorite Drink."

"You, in New York."

Each name was a whisper of the past, a fragment of a story that the public could only guess at. And guess they did. Entire forums were dedicated to deciphering the meaning behind Jeonghan's enigmatic perfume names. Who was this mysterious 'you'? A lover? A muse? A figment of the perfumer's vivid imagination?

Speculation ran rampant. Some theorized it was a marketing ploy, a clever way to personalize each scent for the wearer. Others believed Jeonghan was leaving breadcrumbs, telling his own story through these olfactory chapters. The more romantic souls insisted it was an ode to a lost love, each perfume a memory crystallized in scent.

If only they knew.

Jeonghan's smile faded as he picked up the bottle of "You, in New York." The weight of it in his hand felt heavier than it should, laden with memories he both cherished and tried to forget. He uncapped it, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Notes of crisp apple and bergamot gave way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by a base of sandalwood and vanilla. But beneath these carefully orchestrated notes lay something else, something only he could detect—the ghost of her perfume, the one she wore on that last night.

Across the city, in a modest but charming brownstone in Brooklyn, Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and birthday cards. The celebration had been small but joyful, a gathering of the close friends who had become her support system over the past few years. As the night wound down and the last guest departed, she found herself alone with her thoughts and the pile of gifts yet to be properly examined.

One box in particular caught her eye. It was elegant, wrapped in matte black paper with a single silver ribbon. There was no card, no indication of who it was from. Curiosity piqued, Y/N carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper.

Her breath caught in her throat as she revealed the contents. Nestled in a bed of black satin was a bottle she recognized all too well, even though she had never held it before. The clean lines of the glass, the minimalist label with its distinctive handwritten font—it was unmistakably one of Jeonghan's creations.

With trembling hands, Y/N lifted the bottle. "You, in New York," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. A humorless laugh escaped her lips. How fitting, how cruelly ironic that of all his perfumes, this would be the one to find its way to her.

New York. The city where dreams came true and hearts were broken. The city where, five years ago, she had celebrated her last birthday with Jeonghan. It had been magical—a surprise weekend getaway, a whirlwind of Broadway shows, candlelit dinners, and long walks through Central Park. It was the last time she remembered feeling truly, incandescently happy.

It was also the weekend that marked the beginning of the end.

Y/N uncapped the bottle, hesitating for just a moment before bringing it to her nose. The scent hit her like a wave, transporting her instantly back to that weekend. She could almost feel the crisp autumn air on her skin, hear the bustling streets, see Jeonghan's smile as he pulled her close on top of the Empire State Building.

Unbidden, tears began to fall, leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. Five years. Five years since she had spoken to him, seen him, been in the same room as him. And yet, with one carefully crafted scent, he could still reach across that divide and touch her very soul.

They weren't divorced—the paperwork sat untouched in a drawer in her study, a task neither of them seemed able to bring themselves to complete. But they might as well have been strangers for all the communication that passed between them. Estranged was the word the media used when they bothered to mention her at all. Jeonghan's mysterious wife, who had disappeared from the public eye as swiftly and suddenly as Jeonghan had risen to fame.

Y/N set the bottle on her nightstand, unable to put it away but unwilling to hold it any longer. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the countless birthday messages until she found the one she was looking for. It was from her best friend, Mina:

"Hey birthday girl! Hope you loved all your gifts. That last one... the perfume. I hope it wasn't too much. When I saw it, I just thought... well, maybe it was time. You can't run from the past forever, Y/N. Call me if you need to talk. Love you!"

So it had been Mina. Y/N wasn't sure whether to thank her friend or curse her for this unexpected trip down memory lane. She fell back onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling as her mind raced.

Did Jeonghan know his perfume had found its way to her? Did he still think of her when he created these scents? Was she the 'you' in every bottle, or had someone else taken her place in his heart and his art?

Questions she had buried for years bubbled to the surface, demanding attention. Y/N closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and provide a temporary escape. But the scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a persistent reminder of all that had been and all that was lost.

Meanwhile, in his penthouse, Jeonghan had moved from his lab to his home office. The wall opposite his desk was covered in framed magazine covers and articles, a testament to his meteoric rise in the industry. His eyes, however, were fixed on a single frame tucked away in the corner of his desk. It was turned face down, but he knew every detail of the photograph it held—him and Y/N, laughing and in love, on their wedding day.

He reached for it, hesitating for a moment before picking it up and turning it over. They looked so young, so full of hope and dreams. Jeonghan traced the outline of Y/N's face with his finger, wondering not for the first time where she was, what she was doing, if she ever thought of him.

A notification on his computer screen drew his attention. It was an email from his publicist, marked urgent:

"Jeonghan,

The press is buzzing about your win and the launch of 'You, in New York.' Vogue wants an exclusive interview, and they're particularly interested in the inspiration behind your perfume names. I've held them off so far, but we need to give them something. The mysterious artist angle only works for so long.

Also, there's been some renewed interest in your personal life. A few gossip blogs have dug up old photos of you and Y/N. Nothing scandalous, but we should be prepared for questions.

Let me know how you want to handle this.

- Somin"

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a frown creasing his brow. He had known this day would come eventually. The perfume industry thrived on stories, on the personalities behind the scents. He had managed to maintain an air of mystery for years, letting his creations speak for themselves. But now, with his continued success and the increasingly personal nature of his perfume names, the world wanted more.

How could he possibly explain the truth? That each perfume was a love letter, a memory, a piece of his heart poured into a bottle? That 'You, in the Garden' was born from lazy Sunday mornings spent in their tiny apartment's rooftop garden, Y/N's laughter mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers? That 'You, in Greece' captured the essence of their honeymoon, sun-kissed skin and salty air and the intoxicating feeling of being young and in love?

And 'You, in New York'... Jeonghan's gaze drifted back to the photograph. Their last happy moment, preserved in glass and scent. He had poured every ounce of his skill into that perfume, trying to capture not just the smells of the city, but the feeling of that weekend—the joy, the love, and the bittersweet edge of what was to come.

He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over Y/N's contact. He hadn't deleted it, couldn't bring himself to erase that last tangible connection. But he hadn't used it either, not in five long years. What would he even say? 

"I'm sorry"? 

"I miss you"? 

"Every scent I create is a desperate attempt to hold onto the memory of us"?

Jeonghan set the phone down, leaving the call unmade. Instead, he turned back to his computer and began to type a response to his publicist:

"Somin,

Set up the Vogue interview. I'll give them the story they want.

As for my personal life, it remains personal. No comments on old photos or relationships.

- Jeonghan"

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. It was time to give the public a peek behind the curtain, to feed the curiosity that had been building for years. He would craft a story, something romantic and mysterious enough to satisfy the masses without revealing the raw, painful truth.

After all, isn't that what he did best? Create beautiful illusions, capture feelings in a bottle, tell stories through scent? This would just be another performance, another carefully constructed facade.

But as Jeonghan stood to pour himself another drink, his eyes fell once more on the photograph of him and Y/N. For a moment, the mask slipped, and a look of profound sadness crossed his face. All the success, all the accolades, all the adoration from fans around the world—none of it filled the Y/N-shaped hole in his heart.

In the quiet of his luxurious apartment, surrounded by the fruits of his success, Yoon Jeonghan—three-time Perfumer of the Year, creator of the most sought-after fragrances in the world—had never felt more alone.

As the night deepened, two souls on opposite sides of the city lay awake, each haunted by memories and might-have-beens. The scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a fragrant bridge across the chasm that separated them. Neither knew that this birthday, this perfume, this moment of remembrance, was about to set in motion a chain of events that would force them to confront their past and decide their future.

-

The sleek, modernist interior of Vogue's New York office buzzed with nervous energy as staff scurried about, making last-minute preparations. Today was no ordinary day—they were about to interview Yoon Jeonghan, the enigmatic perfumer who had captivated the fashion world with his mysterious creations.

Jeonghan sat in the makeup chair, his eyes closed as the artist applied a light touch of powder to his already flawless skin. He exuded an aura of calm, but beneath the surface, his mind raced. This interview was a calculated risk, a chance to satisfy the public's curiosity while maintaining the mystique that had become his trademark.

"Mr. Yoon, we're ready for you," a young assistant called, clipboard clutched to her chest.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, meeting his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his tie—a deep, midnight blue that brought out the intensity of his gaze—and stood. With a deep breath, he stepped into the lion's den.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed woman named Clara, greeted him with a professional smile. "Mr. Yoon, thank you for joining us. Shall we begin?"

As the cameras rolled, Clara launched into her questions, starting with the safe and expected before gradually probing deeper.

"Your latest fragrance, 'You, in New York,' has taken the world by storm," Clara said, leaning forward slightly. "Can you tell us about the inspiration behind it?"

Jeonghan's lips curved into a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "New York is a city of dreams and memories," he began, his voice smooth and measured. "I wanted to capture the essence of a perfect moment in time—the crisp air of a fall evening, the excitement of possibility, the bittersweet beauty of a fleeting experience."

"And the 'you' in the title?" Clara pressed. "Your fragrances all seem to be addressing someone specific. Is there a story there?"

For a fraction of a second, Jeonghan's composure slipped. A flicker of something—pain? longing?—crossed his face before the mask slid back into place. "The 'you' is everyone and no one," he said carefully. "It's the wearer of the perfume, the object of desire, the memory of a love lost or yet to be found. I believe that the most personal stories are often the most universal."

As the interview continued, Jeonghan wove a tale of inspiration drawn from travels, fleeting encounters, and imagined romances. It was a beautiful story, crafted as carefully as his perfumes. But those who knew him best might have noticed the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers occasionally twitched as if reaching for something—or someone—just out of grasp.

---

The publication of the Vogue interview sent shockwaves through the fashion and beauty world. Social media exploded with theories and interpretations of Jeonghan's words. Fan forums dissected every sentence, looking for hidden meanings and clues about the mysterious muse behind his creations.

@ScentObsessed tweeted: "OMG, did you catch how his voice changed when talking about 'You, in New York'? There's definitely a real story there! #YoonJeonghan #PerfumeMystery"

A popular beauty vlogger released a 20-minute video analyzing Jeonghan's body language during the interview, claiming to have spotted at least five instances where he seemed to be holding back tears.

Even serious fashion critics couldn't resist speculating. A piece in WWD posed the question: "Is Yoon Jeonghan's entire oeuvre an olfactory autobiography? The clues hidden in his fragrances."

---

Across the city, Y/N sat at her kitchen table, a cup of coffee growing cold beside her as she stared at her laptop screen. The Vogue article was open, Jeonghan's face looking back at her from a series of artfully shot photographs.

She had promised herself she wouldn't read it. Had sworn she was past all this, that she had moved on. But curiosity—and perhaps something deeper, something she wasn't ready to name—had gotten the better of her.

Now, as she read his carefully crafted words, Y/N felt a complex mix of emotions churning inside her. Anger at the half-truths, sadness at the memories his words evoked, and a traitorous flutter of her heart at the moments where she could see through his facade to the man she once knew so well.

A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. Y/N closed the laptop quickly, as if hiding evidence of a crime, before going to answer.

"Ms. Y/N?" A woman with a press badge stood in the hallway, notepad in hand. "I'm Mia from Style Weekly. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Yoon Jeonghan's latest interview."

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, moving to close the door.

The reporter's foot blocked the doorway. "Please, just a moment. Your connection to Mr. Yoon is a matter of public record. Surely you must have some insight into the inspirations behind his work?"

"No comment," Y/N managed, her voice strangled. She pushed the door closed with more force, hearing the reporter's muffled protests from the other side.

Leaning against the door, Y/N slid to the floor, her heart pounding. It was happening again. The life she had carefully rebuilt, separate from Jeonghan and his world of glitz and glamour, was threatening to crumble around her.

---

In his penthouse, Jeonghan paced back and forth, phone pressed to his ear. "Somin, I thought we agreed to keep my personal life out of this," he said, frustration evident in his voice.

His publicist's calm tones came through the speaker. "Jeonghan, we did our best, but you have to understand. The public is hungry for this. Your story, the mystery—it's what sells. The interview was a huge success."

"At what cost?" Jeonghan muttered, more to himself than to Somin.

After ending the call, he walked to his workspace, surrounded by the tools of his trade. His fingers trailed over the bottles of his creations, lingering on "You, in New York."

For a moment, he allowed himself to remember—truly remember, not the sanitized version he had presented to the world. He saw Y/N's smile as they watched the sunset from the Top of the Rock, felt the warmth of her hand in his as they strolled through Central Park.

Almost without conscious thought, his hand reached for his phone. Y/N's contact information stared back at him, unchanged after all these years. His thumb hovered over the call button.

A war raged inside him. The desire to hear her voice, to explain, to apologize, warred with the fear of rejection, of reopening old wounds.

In the end, he set the phone down, the call unmade. But the desire, the need, lingered.

---

"Y/N, have you seen this?" Mina's voice came through the phone, excitement evident. "Jeonghan's Vogue interview. Girl, he's talking about you."

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mina, please. You know I don't want to hear about—"

"No, listen," Mina interrupted. "He talks about a moment in New York, watching the sunset from a rooftop garden. That was you two, wasn't it? On your last birthday together?"

Y/N's breath caught. She remembered that evening with painful clarity—the golden light, the gentle breeze, the feeling that everything was perfect. It was mere days before it all fell apart.

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Honey," Mina said gently, "I think it does. He's been telling your story all along, in every bottle. Maybe... maybe it's time to tell yours."

After hanging up, Y/N found herself once again staring at the bottle of "You, in New York." She uncapped it, letting the scent envelop her. In that moment, she allowed herself to truly feel everything she had been suppressing for years.

The realization hit her like a wave: Jeonghan hadn't forgotten. Every perfume, every story, was a message in a bottle, cast out into the world in hopes that someday, somehow, it would reach her.

---

The charity gala was in full swing, the cream of New York society mingling amidst the glittering decor of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jeonghan moved through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, the perfect image of the successful artist.

He was in the middle of a conversation with a fashion designer when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with an old friend—one he shared with Y/N.

"Jeonghan," the friend said, a strange mix of emotions playing across their face. "It's been too long."

As they talked, catching up on the years that had passed, Jeonghan found himself hungry for any scrap of information about Y/N. He tried to be subtle, but his old friend saw right through him.

"She's doing well, Jeonghan," they said softly. "She's strong. But... I think she misses you too."

The words hit Jeonghan like a physical blow. He excused himself, making his way to a quiet corner of the museum. His carefully constructed world felt like it was shifting beneath his feet.

Across the city, Y/N was experiencing a similar upheaval. A mutual friend had let slip that Jeonghan had asked about her, that he still kept a photo of them on his desk.

As the night wore on, both Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves standing at a crossroads. The walls they had built, the distance they had maintained, suddenly seemed more like obstacles than protection.

Unbeknownst to each other, they both reached for their phones at nearly the same moment. Fingers hovering over screens, hearts pounding, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change everything.

In the air, the faint scent of "You, in New York" lingered, a reminder of what was lost and what, perhaps, could still be found.

The stage was set. The next move was theirs.

-

The Autumn chill nipped at Y/N's skin as she stood outside the small café, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. Her eyes darted nervously up and down the street, searching for a familiar face she hadn't seen in years. Her heart raced, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through her veins.

She almost jumped when her phone buzzed. A text from Jeonghan: "I'm here."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she spotted him rounding the corner. Jeonghan looked much the same as she remembered, yet somehow different. His hair was styled differently, and he carried himself with a weariness that hadn't been there before. But his eyes—those eyes that had once looked at her with such love—were as intense as ever.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the busy New York street faded away. It was just the two of them, standing on opposite sides of a chasm five years in the making.

Jeonghan reached her first, stopping a few feet away. "Y/N," he said, his voice a mix of relief and uncertainty.

"Jeonghan," she replied, surprised at how steady her own voice sounded.

An awkward silence fell between them, years of unspoken words and suppressed emotions creating an almost tangible barrier.

"Should we..." Jeonghan gestured towards the café, and Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion.

Inside, they found a quiet corner booth. The warm, coffee-scented air was a stark contrast to the tension between them. They ordered—an Americano for him, a latte for her, just like old times—and then faced each other across the small table.

"You look well," Jeonghan said, his fingers fidgeting with a sugar packet.

Y/N managed a small smile. "So do you. I... I've seen your interviews. Congratulations on all your success."

Jeonghan's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "Thank you. I hear you're doing well too. Teaching, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, literature at NYU. It's... it's good."

Another silence fell, heavier this time. Y/N took a sip of her latte, using the moment to gather her thoughts.

"Why did you want to meet, Jeonghan?" she finally asked, setting her cup down perhaps a bit too forcefully.

Jeonghan looked up, meeting her gaze directly for the first time since they sat down. "I... I missed you, Y/N. Every day for five years, I've missed you."

The raw honesty in his voice caught Y/N off guard. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and blinked them back furiously.

"You missed me?" she repeated, a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "You're the one who left, Jeonghan. You chose your career over us."

Jeonghan flinched as if he'd been slapped. "I know," he said softly. "And I've regretted it every day since."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, familiar bottle. Y/N's breath hitched as she recognized it—"You, in New York."

"Every scent, every name," Jeonghan continued, his voice thick with emotion, "they were all for you. About you. My way of holding onto what we had, what I threw away."

Y/N stared at the bottle, memories flooding back. The laughter, the love, the pain—it all came rushing back in a dizzying whirl.

"I thought I was protecting you," Jeonghan said. "The pressure, the spotlight—it was destroying us. I thought... I thought if I let you go, you could have a normal life. Be happy."

"That wasn't your choice to make," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You should have talked to me. We could have figured it out together."

Jeonghan nodded, running a hand through his hair in a gesture so familiar it made Y/N's heart ache. "I know that now. God, Y/N, I know. I was young and stupid and scared. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just a coward."

Y/N felt the walls she'd built around her heart begin to crumble. She reached out, almost unconsciously, and took the perfume bottle from Jeonghan's hand. As she did, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"I tried to hate you," Y/N admitted, her thumb tracing the label of the bottle. "I tried so hard to forget, to move on. But then I'd catch a whiff of one of your perfumes, or see your face on a magazine cover, and it all came flooding back."

Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... is there any chance? For us? I'm not the same man I was five years ago. I've learned, I've grown. And I know now that nothing—no amount of success or fame—means anything without you."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling tears slip down her cheeks. When she opened them again, she saw that Jeonghan's eyes were also wet.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "You hurt me, Jeonghan. Deeply. That's not something that can be fixed with a conversation and some pretty words."

Jeonghan nodded, his face falling. But before he could speak, Y/N continued.

"But... I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you too. That I didn't still love you, despite everything."

Hope bloomed in Jeonghan's eyes. "So... what does that mean?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "It means... it means maybe we can try. Slowly. No grand gestures, no rushing back into things. We need to relearn each other, rebuild trust. Can you do that?"

Jeonghan reached across the table, gently taking Y/N's hand in his. The familiar warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Y/N, I would wait a lifetime if that's what it took. We'll go as slow as you need. I just... I just want a chance to make things right."

For the first time since they sat down, Y/N felt a genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's try."

-

The gentle spring breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms through Central Park, where Jeonghan and Y/N walked hand in hand, their steps slow and purposeful. Two years had passed since that fateful night when they both reached for their phones, finally bridging the gap that had separated them for so long.

"I still can't believe we're here," Y/N said, squeezing Jeonghan's hand. "Sometimes I think I'll wake up and find it was all a dream."

Jeonghan brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "If it's a dream, then I never want to wake up," he replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

They found a quiet bench overlooking the lake, the same spot where they had sat years ago, planning their future together. Now, older and wiser, they sat again, the weight of their shared history and renewed love settling comfortably between them.

"The launch is tomorrow," Jeonghan said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Are you ready?"

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be. It's still surreal, you know? Being back in this world, but on my own terms this time."

The past two years had been a whirlwind of rediscovery and healing. After their reconnection, Jeonghan and Y/N had taken things slowly, rebuilding trust and relearning each other. Y/N had been adamant about maintaining her independence, refusing to be swallowed up by Jeonghan's world as she had been before.

To everyone's surprise—including her own—Y/N had discovered a talent for perfumery. What had started as curious questions about Jeonghan's process had evolved into a genuine passion. Under his guidance, she had begun to create her own scents, her natural intuition complementing Jeonghan's technical expertise.

And now, tomorrow, they would launch their first collaborative perfume.

"I have something for you," Jeonghan said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, elegant bottle, its contents shimmering in the afternoon sun.

Y/N gasped, recognizing the prototype they had been working on. "Is this...?"

Jeonghan nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "The final version. I wanted you to be the first to see it—to smell it."

With trembling hands, Y/N took the bottle. The label read "Essence of Us" in Jeonghan's distinctive handwriting. Below it, in smaller letters: "By Jeonghan & Y/N."

She uncapped the bottle, bringing it to her nose. The scent enveloped her immediately—bright citrus notes of bergamot and lemon, giving way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by warm sandalwood and a hint of vanilla. But there was something more, something uniquely them—a note that spoke of long nights of conversation, of laughter shared over coffee, of gentle kisses and whispered promises.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "It's perfect," she whispered.

Jeonghan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "It's us," he said simply. "All of us. The good, the bad, the journey we've taken."

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Jeonghan and Y/N sat in comfortable silence, the scent of their creation lingering in the air around them.

The launch event for "Essence of Us" was the talk of the fashion world. Held in the same New York hotel where Jeonghan and Y/N had celebrated her last birthday before their separation, it was a poignant reminder of how far they had come.

Cameras flashed as Jeonghan and Y/N stepped onto the red carpet, a united front. Y/N, dressed in a flowing gown that shimmered like liquid silver, looked every inch the confident co-creator, a far cry from the woman who had once hidden in Jeonghan's shadow.

Inside, the room was transformed into a sensory wonderland. Different stations represented the various notes of the perfume, allowing guests to experience each element individually before sampling the final product.

As the crowd mingled and the excitement built, Jeonghan clinked a glass, calling for attention. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the stage where he and Y/N stood.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Jeonghan began, his voice carrying easily through the room. "This launch is special for many reasons, but none more so than the fact that it represents not just a new scent, but a new chapter."

He turned to Y/N, love evident in his gaze. "For years, my perfumes told the story of what I had lost. They were messages in bottles, cast out into the world in the hope that someday, they might find their way back to the one who inspired them."

Y/N stepped forward, taking Jeonghan's hand. "And I heard those messages," she continued, her voice strong and clear. "Even when I tried not to listen, even when I thought that chapter of my life was closed forever. They called to me, reminding me of a love that never truly faded."

Together, they unveiled the perfume—an elegant bottle that seemed to capture the light, refracting it into a thousand tiny rainbows.

"'Essence of Us' is more than just a perfume," Jeonghan said. "It's a testament to the power of love, of forgiveness, of second chances. It's the scent of two people who lost their way, only to find that all paths led back to each other."

Y/N nodded, adding, "It's also a new beginning. A declaration that our story isn't just about the past, but about the future we choose to create together."

As the crowd applauded and the first samples of "Essence of Us" were distributed, Jeonghan and Y/N shared a private smile. They had poured their hearts into this creation, distilling years of love, loss, and rediscovery into a single, perfect scent.

Months later, as "Essence of Us" continued to top bestseller lists and garner critical acclaim, Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves back in their favorite spot in Central Park. The trees were ablaze with autumn colors, a crisp breeze carrying the promise of winter.

"I've been thinking," Jeonghan said, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. "About the future. About us."

Y/N looked at him curiously. "Oh? And what have you been thinking?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket. "I've been thinking that maybe it's time for a new scent. Something... permanent."

He pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning ring. The design was unique—a delicate gold band that twisted into the shape of an infinity symbol, set with tiny diamonds that caught the light like drops of perfume.

"Y/N," Jeonghan said, his voice thick with emotion, "will you marry me? Again? For real this time, for always?"

Tears sprang to Y/N's eyes as she nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. As Jeonghan slipped the ring onto her finger, she finally found her voice. "Yes," she whispered. "Forever and always."

They sealed the promise with a kiss, the scent of "Essence of Us" mingling with the crisp autumn air. As they broke apart, both laughing and crying, Jeonghan's eyes lit up with that familiar spark of inspiration.

"I think I know what our next perfume will be called," he said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh? Do tell."

Jeonghan pulled her close, whispering in her ear: "You, Forever and Always."

And as they walked hand in hand through the park, already discussing notes and accords for their new creation, both Jeonghan and Y/N knew that this—their love, their passion, their shared creativity—was the most intoxicating scent of all.

---

' MOVE FAST, KEEP QUIET ' | y. jeonghan

synopsis : the one where everyone's wondering who has captured the heart of one racing's brightest stars. is it their very own engineer? their teammate? their biggest rival? well, the answer is none of those three. pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader genre/s : smau, racer/f1 au, angst if you squint extra notes. kinda suggestive ? also, yes ik strategist and engineer are two diff roles but for the sake of simplicity they're the same thing now HAHAHA

song rec : taylor swift's i can see you

from reese, with love <3

is this a one-shot..? will it be a series..? i genuinely don't know i just wanted to combine my three personality traits : kpop, tswift, and f1 HAHAHA also my fingers have been itching to write something based on icsy the second i heard it >_< ty for reading ! i would really love to know what you think of this particular one- asks/replies/rbs are much appreciated hehe hope you're all taking care !

AAAAAAHHHHHJHHHHHHHH??!??!!??!??!!????

I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS

first of all you've out done yourself yet again, the story keeps getting better & better. Don't think about messing up cuz it's EVERYTHING and more, we as readers could have asked for 🤍

i reallyyyyy like the idea of keeping the members a mystery (pls keep doing that) & adding tags later for other people

spoilers in tags, pls read the story first! :)

Camp Seventeen: Chapter 2

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13 (reader x 2 members for this Ch.)

Word count - 13K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up!

Previous chapter

Chapter summary - As you delve deeper into the world of the demigods, a party throws you spiralling down a road less taken. While it seems there's one member who may be able to help you with it, there's another you want to lend a hand to. And more.

A/n - As usual, I'm not revealing which member/s are in the chapter hehe :) I do have a taglist so comment/DM/send an ask to be added! And if you enjoyed reading, please don't forget to leave feedback in the comments or tags - we've got lots of chapters to go and hearing thoughts really helps <3

Smut warnings - I'm trying this thing where I won't be adding any detailed warnings as of now now, I will be including them after 1 week instead! I'm trying to keep the suspense for those who are interested but I understand there might be some of you who are wary of reading certain things - I will be adding warnings for your sake in a week's time! (There are no trigger warnings for this fic though!)

Today you slept with both the windows and the curtains closed. 

Not just Seungcheol's eagle, even the late morning sun couldn't wake you up, leading to you casually strolling into the dining hall, late in the day. As you walked in, still dressed in your pajamas, twelve heads turned towards you, following your every step. 

Seokmin turned towards Seungcheol who's gaze was fixed on his food, like it was adamant not to meet yours. Hesitating, the former cleared his throat, taking one for the team, questioning you instead.

“You uh….didn't come to train today.”

“Yes, I didn’t.” 

Walking in, you grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and sat as far away from Seungcheol as possible. If anyone noticed the hostility between the two of you, they didn't say anything. Seokmin looked at you like he was expecting to hear more - then he realised that was all you had for an answer. 

“Why didn't you…...” 

“I got wet in the rain last night.” You munched on your fruit. “Felt sick in the morning.” 

A part of you expected at least one of them to have the decency to ask you how you were doing now but all the boys simply exchanged looks. As you frowned at them confused, Joshua finally looked at you. “Demigods don't fall sick Y/n.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“We're half gods, so uh…. stuff like bacteria and viruses don't really have an effect against us.” 

Suddenly, at that point, the last 25 years of your life made a little more sense - you realised you hadn't ever fallen sick. You also realised that last weekend when you offered to watch a movie with Seungcheol because the two of you were alone in the house, he had declined, stating he had a cold and didn't want to pass it on. 

Of course he lied. All that man did was lie. 

Scoffing, you shook your head. “Of course we don't.”

“Is there a problem?” Minghao narrowed his eyes at you conspicuously. “Any particular reason you couldn't or didn't want to come?” 

Sighing, you shook your head. “It's just been hard getting used to things, I'm trying but-” 

“There's no room for but Y/n.” Seungcheol finally spoke, looking up. “Quest season is approaching and we cannot have a weak link on the team.” 

“Cheol.” Jeonghan cautioned, looking at him just a little sternly. “Enough.” 

Seungcheol stared back at Jeonghan like he wanted to retort but when the latter shook his head at him, he got up, throwing his plate into the sink a lot louder than anyone had expected. 

If Chan hadn’t muttered that the cab was ready to leave, you would have exploded - how dare he? He was the one who hinted at something more last night and he was the one who had left you in the middle of the storm so why was he behaving like this was your fault?? But before you could say anything, Seungcheol and the members going for morning shifts grabbed their things and set out for the day, unusually quietly. As Mingyu began to follow the crowd, you held him by his wrist, 

“Where are you going? You don’t have work today?” 

“Are you keeping tabs on me, newbie?” Mingyu bent down, smirking at you. “Can I consider you interested?” 

“Your schedules are on the white board genius.” You rolled your eyes, letting him go and pointing at it. “We need to talk.” 

Mingyu frowned, both confused and curious. 

“The house Gyu, my house. I have a final plan for it.” 

“Oh! Okay sure let’s go-” 

“Wait.” Joshua stood up shaking his head. “I don't know what's going on with you Y/n, but unlike Cheol, I cannot walk away from what I am responsible for in this camp. You're going to put that fruit down-” He pointed at the plum you just reached for. “-go shower, have a full breakfast and then you can sit with Mingyu and finalise whatever you have to.” 

“But Shua-” 

“No.” He said in a tone that you knew meant that this was not open for any more discussion as he turned towards the man who was stuffing his face with cereal. “And Kwon Soonyoung, why are your sheets still in the dryer?” 

Oh fuck. 

Soonyoung looked at you confused - you had completely forgotten about that.

“I uh couldn't carry them back in the rain last night.” He muttered, drinking the last of his milk straight from the bowl, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I'll take them now.” 

“Why did you need to wash your sheets in the middle of the night?” Hansol frowned at the man beside him sceptical and Soonyoung glanced at you but you were suddenly deeply interested in some random crack on the table surface. 

“I was bored and jerked off.” Soonyoung washed up his bowl, shaking the water off his hands. “It was a good one.”

Hansol groaned disgusted and you looked at Soonyoung scandalised as he shot you a cheeky wink before disappearing out of the hall. A part of you was kind of relieved - you were worried after last night, especially considering what he said as you were leaving. Perhaps you heard it wrong because Soonyoung seemed just as relaxed as ever, like nothing had changed. 

You were thankful for that - now things could go back to like they were before. 

Or could they? Because Jihoon was yet again looking at you like he knew everything

“This is your final plan?” 

“Yes.”

“Isn't this the first plan you had made?”

“Yes.”

“Y/n,” Mingyu groaned. “If you wanted to do this we could have finalised it days ago.” 

“I told you, I was confused about the whole bathroom situation.” You muttered, tracing mindless patterns over the floor plan. “Let's just make the residence alone. I'll adjust with the common showers.”

“We can still arrange to build a bathroom for you.” Joshua glanced at the papers. “Since we have to divert water pipes, it'll just take a little longer-” 

“No.” You gripped the pencil tight. “I don't want anything that takes a little longer. I want this house made as soon as possible so I can shift to my own space.” 

Your adamance was definitely new but neither boys commented on it. Instead Mingyu pulled out his phone and scrolled through clumsily.

“I need to place an order for the brick and cement and sure Chan has got a decently sized cab but it's going to take a couple of trips to bring the whole load.” He sighed, not looking up. “It's going to take a couple of weeks to get the house ready-”

“No, no no.” You shook your head. This couldn't be happening. “I need my own house as soon as possible, Mingyu….” You looked away rambling as both men frowned. “I'm in my final year, I've uh got projects and submissions to work on. The library isn't well lit enough to study all night and Seungcheol's house is too far from the charging station in the Great Hall, I can't keep making such long trips just to charge my laptop? What if it rains like last night again? What if all my stuff gets wet and-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Mingyu set his phone down and tried to calm you down. “Though if those are your concerns, you can move into my house. I live close to the Great hall and I have a loft - you won’t have any issues there.”

Oh no. No no. You weren't about to fall from the frying pan into the fire. 

“No Mingyu, what I need is my own space, like every other member of the camp.” You sighed. “And I know it's a lot to ask but I hope we can be done with it fast.” 

“I really wish I could help Y/n.” He looked at you pitifully. “You’re an architect, you know the kind of time it takes to build a house. Maybe if you had opted for something simpler, like a wooden cabin-” 

“Can you build that faster?” 

“I mean we do live in the middle of a forest and I do have automations to cut trees-” 

“How long will a wooden cabin take?”

“A few days.” Mingyu rubbed his chin in thought. “Provided it doesn't rain or-” 

“Do it.”

Both men looked surprised. 

“You're sure?” Joshua spoke up this time. “Wooden homes tend to feel colder, it would also be harder to-”

“I'm sure.” You nodded, gathering the sheets. “I'll have to make a few amendments to the layout then you can start. Meanwhile, why don't you go ahead now with the….. wood gathering?”

Mingyu nodded, stuffing his phone into his pocket, resting his face on his interlocked hands. 

“What're you waiting for Mingyu?” 

“Now as in right now??”

“Yes right now.” You looked at him like it was obvious. “Please.” 

Joshua nodded, signalling Mingyu to leave and grumbling, the bigger man left, much to your relief. Just a few more days. You could handle a few more days with Seungcheol, right? 

“You cannot.” Joshua turned to you. “You cannot survive with a group of people if you don't communicate Y/n. Do you want to tell me what's going on?”

You let out a deep breath considering it for a minute but then shook your head. “It's not worth discussing. I'll deal with it on my own.”

“Well you better do it fast because,” Joshua pulled out a sheet from his bag and slid it across the table to you. “Things are about to get a lot more hectic.”

You were too scared to extend your hand and reach for that paper. Good god, what else was in store for you. 

“Seokmin and Minghao are already covering physical training for you but being a demigod is so much more than just combat - you need to learn about this world, about its people, about the laws that govern it.” He looked at you apologetically. “I've drafted a schedule where the members will cover these different areas with you. Of course you will have time for your own obligations but you will also have to strictly adhere to the rest…..” 

Joshua's words trailed off as your eyes landed on the timetable and the names scribbled on them.

You counted 12 names, all the members were scheduled to help you except- 

“Wonwoo.” You breathed out. “His name isn't….here?” 

“Yeah…” Joshua scratched the back of his head. “Wonwoo isn't really available for stuff like this, he's got other things to do….” 

Of course he did. He was a top secret government official, he did guard duty at night, he was working on your case too, you could understand that he was busy. 

But what you didn't understand was why he always ignored you. Even earlier when you popped into the showers forgetting that Wonwoo usually washed himself much after everyone, you had in fact, caught him butt naked. 

Any normal person would've covered himself up or at least responded to your small scream, quick turn and innumerable apologies but Wonwoo? He simply grabbed a towel, wrapped himself and walked straight past you into the locker rooms like you didn't even exist, the trademark scent of his perfume the only thing lingering behind. 

“Y/n where are you lost?” 

You shook your head. “I was just thinking about how the bath house would've been more efficient if the showers were attached to the locker room so we didn't have to walk so far in a towel to change.” 

Joshua looked at you like he didn't understand a word you were saying. Or why you were saying it. 

“It's just…. I'm just being an architect, don't bother.” You shook your head then the paper. “Thank you for this.”

“No worries.” He smiled sweetly, getting up, leaving you to your breakfast. “I see your first lesson is History of the Gods. Unfortunately I think Chan is busy with some delivery in the evening so, it'll be just you and Jihoon. I hope you'll attend the lesson earnestly.”

You nodded, giving him a hard smile. 

How were you supposed to last 2 hours with a man who read you like an open book? 

The darkness behind your closed eyelids was supposed to be comforting. That's why you were lounging in your chair, half asleep while waiting for Jihoon to show up. But somehow, it felt like you were being watched and sure enough when you opened your eyes, the face of your instructor of the day was inches away from you.

“Jesus Christ Jihoon…” You sat up scrambling, pulling yourself away from him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You're tired.” He tucked his hands in his pockets walking back. “I was wondering if I should let you rest-” 

“I'm fine.” 

“-but it's strange considering you skipped training and slept all morning, yet you're incredibly sleep deprived.” Leaning back against the table he looked at you amused. “What might have happened last night that exhausted you so?” 

Words refused to leave your mouth considering you didn't know if he was teasing you or actually concerned. Given the last few days you assumed it was the former and ignored him as you began closing all the books you had strewn on the table before you. 

“I see you're doing pre reading.”

“Chan gave these to me before he left for work. He said I should read to understand better.” 

“Did you?” 

Of course you didn't. You were almost snoring away and Jihoon saw that, yet he asked the question like he wanted you to feel embarrassed about the answer. 

“I thought you were supposed to teach me.” You shut the last book and glared at him. “If you just expect me to just read off a book, I don’t see why you’re required here.” 

“Are you suggesting I leave my own class?” He raised his eyebrow amused. “I’m going to have to disappoint you but unlike some, I take what I’m told at camp seriously.” 

You glared at him like you were contemplating throwing the book straight at him and you almost did when he walked around the table, sat down on the chair and cocked his head at you. 

“For someone who is the daughter of Hestia, hospitality isn't really your trait is it?  

“How would I know, aren’t you supposed to be teaching me about this God stuff?” 

“I am.” He nodded, crossing his arms. “But it depends on how much the mortal world has already taught you.” 

“I’ve never really bothered myself with Greek mythology.” You rolled your eyes. “They’re just stories for bored children.” 

“Except they aren’t. They are your reality.” 

“Not by choice.” You mumbled. You did not wish to be an outcast in the only world you knew and thrown here. You did not wish for any of this. 

“Parentage is no one’s choice.” Jihoon sighed. “But to be a demigod is a gift. It’s a shame that you disregard your power.” 

“What power?” You scoffed. “I don’t have any….” Trailing off you gulped. 

That was a lie. 

“I am the Son of Apollo which means I was there at the Court of Delphi when the Oracle assigned you.” Jihoon reminded you of the fateful night.

The night when a couple of masked men had forcibly picked you from your dorm, throwing you into a large room of unknown people and a round crystal in the middle on an altar. No sooner than you took a scared, confused step forward it spoke - Daughter of Hestia, Camp Seventeen. 

“The Oracle only recognises those who have God's blood. So if you’re telling me you don’t have any powers and this is all a mistake, you must think I’m an idiot.” 

“If you’re so smart-” You narrowed your eyes at him. “-why don’t you do that mind reading thing you do and figure out what my powers are?”

“I can’t read minds Y/n,” Jihoon looked at you quizzically. “I’m not Athena’s progeny.” 

“Y-you can’t? But all these days…..” You blinked at him confused. “Oh my god, can Jeonghan??” 

He shook his head. “Neither can Jeonghan. Not all of Athena’s children are mind readers. I’ve only ever come across one in my life and if she wasn’t busy shuffling through everyone’s brain in the quest, perhaps she wouldn’t have been killed.” 

You opened your mouth and then shut it, unsure which of the hundred questions in your mind to ask first. 

“If you really must know, my father is the God of Medicine which makes me a natural healer.” He leaned back with a small smile. “I don’t read people’s minds but their bodies. I can tell when one is sick, or hungry….or even horny.” 

You gulped, feeling your heartbeat raise. Could he tell that too? 

“It goes without saying that a demigod's powers are associated with their parentage. So as the daughter of the Goddess of Hearth and Home, I’m assuming you have some sort of bond with fire.” 

Tightening your fists, you refused to meet his eye. 

It made sense why you never told anyone in the human world about your ability to create fire out of thin air but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone in the demi-world either. 

You had seen the powers the boys had - Seokmin was the son of Posiedon, God of the Sea, but he couldn’t create water, only bend it. And Mingyu? His father was the literal God of Fire and even he was only immune to flames. 

But you, birthing fire from thin air? Something told you that even in the world of demigods, the world where you belonged, you were a freak.

“Or maybe I’m an architect because of you know, the ‘home’ bit.” 

“I don’t think so. Your college preference is pretty much just a personal interest.” 

“Then I guess I don’t have any powers.” You shrugged. “Maybe the Oracle made a mistake.” 

“The Oracle isn’t human. It never makes mistakes.” 

“Then maybe my powers are too insignificant for us to care. I mean think about it - what can the daughter of such a goddess have to offer? I most definitely don’t have anything of value.” 

Jihoon stared at you like he had too many thoughts. 

“Do you know the life cycle of a demigod?” 

You shook your head confused about where he was going with this.

“Not everyone born half breed inherits powers and even if they do, it is dormant until puberty. At the ages of 16 to 18, demigods are at their highest energies which gives them an aura that makes them instantly identifiable - the stronger their abilities, the stronger the aura. After they are picked either by their parents or our scout force, they’re taken to the Oracle who puts them in camp where they will be best suited to train and learn to harness their powers. If a demigod isn’t placed in camp by 18, you best believe that they are dead.” 

“Huh?” You blinked. “Why is that?” 

“Because either the inability to handle their own powers will kill them or in rare cases, monsters.” 

“M-monsters?” 

“There’s always good and bad in the world. Where you have gods, you have monsters too.” Jihoon opened one of the books to a page filled with sketches of the most gruesome creatures you’d ever seen. “Most of our predecessors have already locked up many of these in the Underworld but there are still some out there, lurking around. If they sense an aura and you aren’t trained for combat, you don’t stand a chance.” 

“So you think because I’ve managed to survive the last seven years, on my own and untrained, I am powerful?” You frowned. “Did you consider the fact that perhaps my aura was so weak no one could detect me?” 

“I did. That was my first assumption till the Oracle.” He leaned onto the table. “Even Gods have to touch the orb for a reading but your mere presence lit her up Y/n. Your aura isn’t weak, it’s different and my guess is it has something to do with being Hestia's daughter.” 

You hummed, trying to make sense of things. “Well, did the same thing happen with her other children?” 

Jihoon shook his head. “We don’t know. Unfortunately for us, there are no other known children of Hestia - you are the first ever.” 

You stared at him, letting the weight of his words sink in. 

“I’m her only child?” 

Jihoon nodded slowly. 

If that were true, the whole of last week made no sense. Ever since you had discovered the temple, you had been trying to reach out to your mother every other hour. You assumed she might have been busy or probably had too many places to be to tend to you, but to learn that you were her only progeny and she still didn’t care hurt differently. 

Scoffing sadly you shook your head. “What kind of mother doesn’t care about her only child?” 

“One who is not proud of her momentary lapse of judgement.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Jihoon sighed. “Hestia is one of the three virgin goddesses, along with Artemis and Athena. She’s not supposed to have any offspring, much less one with a human. If anything, you are a walking talking symbol of her weakness.” 

“I am her child-” 

“In theory.” Jihoon emphasised. “But in reality, you’re merely a fragment of her.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Humans and Gods don’t mix Y/n. Hell, even humans and demigods can’t.” 

“I’m aware.” 

Jihoon took a pause before he narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Why and how are you aware of that?” 

“Irrelevant.” You brushed off. “But if what you’re saying is true, how can demigods even come to be?” 

“Because it’s not unlike even the Gods to succumb to lust. At any time they feel particularly attracted to a human they enchant their partners.” When you frowned like you didn’t understand, he sighed and continued. “Enchantment is what we call the process of gods…to crudely put it, possessing people. Taking over their bodies, controlling them.” 

Your jaw dropped. 

“You mean they possess one person to have sex with another???” 

“Well, sometimes it’s just sex but sometimes it is love. They stay on Earth for years together till the lesser gods aren’t able to handle things and they are forced to go back.” Jihoon got up, pacing around the room. “Demigods are born to two human parents who are completely unaware about what happened with them and what their child actually is.” 

“Wow” You breathed out dumbfounded. “You mean to say I have two parents in the Mortal world and one sitting in Olympus-” Jihoon nodded. “-and neither of them care about me?” 

Jihoon looked at you like you had given him more information than he asked for. 

“I can’t speak for your mortal parents but as far as Gods are concerned, they don’t really care about their half human children…… unless they are powerful.” He locked his arms behind his back. “Demigods train for years to become worthy of their parents' attention.” 

“So being a demigod isn’t really a gift after all.” 

Sighing, Jihoon sat down beside you. “You can’t allow yourself to be governed by emotions Y/n. You are the result of a God’s lack of resistance to impulses - those who sit in Olympus have their own flaws. If you run your whole life seeking their validation, you will keep running. They will keep you running.” 

“What do I do then?” You blinked at him lost. “I think I have more than one question I want to ask the woman because of whom my life is a mess. How do I get her to notice me?” 

“Play it smart. First, learn about our world and the things that shape it. Understand how Olympus works - what the God's weaknesses are, what ticks them off, what will bring them on your side.” He turned to you. “If you play your cards right, trust me, your mother will come looking for you in no time.”

Letting out a deep breath, you whispered hesitantly. “Will you teach me how?” 

Smiling in a way that made your stomach turn a lot differently than it used to for Jihoon before, he nodded. “I'd love to.” 

You didn’t even realise when your supposed two hour session with Jihoon dragged on till after the sun had set. 

By the end of it, you had a book full of notes stuffed in your backpack and a head full of information that your instructor had filled. As you stepped out of the library building, Jihoon offered to walk you back to Seungcheol’s house given it was nightfall and as much as you wanted to continue talking to him, you politely refused. You weren’t ready to face that man just yet but just as you began walking towards the Great Hall to grab a snack or two, your eyes fell on Jeonghan and Seungcheol whispering away near the trees. 

As you skidded to a stop in your path, they turned towards you, both surprised and relieved by your presence. When you noticed Jeonghan nudge Seungcheol making him take a step towards you, you immediately walked back, knocking into someone behind you, earning a shriek. 

“Watch it rookie.” Seungkwan muttered as you apologised under your breath. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a couple of the guys standing fully dressed like they were headed out to a party. 

“Y/n.” Seungcheol took another step, trying to get your attention again. “We need to talk-” 

“I can’t,” You walked over to the boys, placing yourself right in the middle of the group. “I’m going out tonight.” 

“Dressed like that?” Seungcheol raised his eyebrows, looking up to down at a really old t-shirt you had donned over a pair of worn out shorts. 

“Funny that a man who pairs socks with sandals is judging me about my outfit.” 

Behind you the boys snickered, glancing down at Seungcheol’s feet. 

“That’s not my point-” 

“Can you drop my bag in my room?” You looked over the leader’s shoulder at his sidekick. “Since you love roaming around that house anyways.” 

Jeonghan caught the bag you threw to him, sighing as he swung it over his shoulder. 

“Well, that would make a total of eight of us..…” Seokmin looked around, doing a headcount. “Dino’s car can take us all but it will be a bit congested-” 

“I can take my bike.” Mingyu offered, running his hands through his hair. “It’ll be more convenient for you guys and-” 

“Can I ride with you?” You turned to Mingyu, looking at him just a little pleadingly. 

Even though you were on the way to a party, you weren’t in the mood to be stuffed in a small car with a bunch of guys right now - all you wanted was some air and space away from Seungcheol. 

Shooting you a small smirk, Mingyu nodded, just in time for his mechanical bull to jog over, modifying into a slick bike the moment it neared him. As he got on, you followed him, gripping his shoulders as you clambered on. 

“Hold tight.” 

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you glanced at the two boys left behind - Seungcheol’s jaw was tight and Jeonghan looked mildly curious, eyes darting where your body pressed up against Mingyu’s back. You could tell the normally cocky Mingyu did seem slightly tense under your touch, perhaps because you were not wearing a bra and he could feel everything very clearly. 

“Shall we?” He muttered, turning on the engine. 

Sighing, you nodded, a part of you well aware that tonight was most definitely going to be a long night. 

“Let’s go.” 

“I’ve been to funerals better than this.” 

You muttered to Seokmin about fifteen minutes after reaching the house that the boys had brought you to for the night. Your expectation had been that of a frat party, one with pizzas and chips and dip and booze instead you were looking at a living room filled with pink balloons, rose gold streamers and french appetisers. 

“Wait till Soonyoung’s alcohol goes around.” Seokmin half giggled, grabbing a canape from the table. “Things always get so much fun after that.” 

You watched the man in question pulling out some bottles from his pockets, handing them over to some boys at the corner of the room. 

The moment Chan’s car had stopped at the location, all the boys had practically disappeared. Seungkwan headed over to a bunch of people Mingyu said were some of his very close friends. No sooner than he said that, he too disappeared as did Chan, Soonyoung and Mingao. The only ones who remained by your side were Seokmin and Joshua but just as you stepped into the house, a couple of girls pulled Joshua away, leaving you with your current company. 

“Why do I feel like something about Soonyoung’s alcohol is sketchy?” 

“Maybe because it’s an illegal blend?” Seokmin shrugged before realising what he had let slip. “You cannot tell anyone. Everyone in camp will kill him and Soonyoung will resurrect and kill me.” 

Laughing you shook your head, grabbing a cracker and topping it with brie, stomach rumbling due to the lack of dinner. 

“You don’t have to keep me company Seokmin.” You turned to the man who was sweet enough to stay by your side. “I don’t wanna ruin your night.” 

“It’s no big deal.” He muttered, putting himself between you and a drunk guy leaning over you to grab a drink from the table. “I know you don’t know anyone here-” 

“I’m not looking to socialise anyways.” You confessed, piling a bunch of stuff on your plate. “I’m just going to sit outside and grab a bite in, hopefully, some peace and quiet.” 

“Oh.” Seokmin looked a little upset, like he wanted to hang out with you but before you could tell him that you didn’t mind his company, Mingyu popped by out of nowhere, pulling his friend by the elbow and dragging him away excitedly. Chuckling, you got back to piling your plate. 

“You worked up an appetite.” 

You turned to see Soonyoung hovering behind you, hands tucked in his pocket. 

“Yeah….” You shoved a spoonful of cold but nevertheless tasty pasta salad into your mouth. “Apparently spending three hours learning about Greek gods can really drain you.” 

“Jihoon can be a bit intense with teaching.” Soonyoung laughed, nonchalantly wiping the cream at the edge of your lips with his thumb. “The trick is to remind him about his workout. He'll drop everything and run.” 

“Huh.” You laughed uncertainly before struggling to swallow your bite and turning to him. He stared at you stuffing your mouth with an expression you couldn’t quite read. 

“Soonyoung we…. “ You swallowed. “We didn't get to talk about last night.”

“Oh.” Soonyoung blinked. “What about it?”

About what he said. About if you heard it right. About if he meant it. 

“About if whatever happened was…. of any use with Mina?” You diverted like a coward.

“I uh haven't spoken to her yet.” Soonyoung confessed, scratching the back of his head. “Surprisingly I haven't returned any of her calls.”

“Why is that?” 

“I don't know.” He looked at you intently. “I don't feel like doing it.”

“Is there…” You whispered softly, wondering if you should even be asking this. If you were ready for his answer. “....something else you feel like doing?”

Soonyoung nodded, his tongue running across his lower lip, his eyes darting to your mouth. Just as it seemed like he leaned in, out of nowhere, the most beautiful girl you had ever seen, threw her arms around Soonyoung's neck, pulling his mouth to hers instead. 

“Hoshi.” She mumbled against his lips, pressing her body up against him not so subtly. 

You weren't sure why exactly you were continuing to watch the two people before you shoving their tongues into each other's mouth but perhaps that's how shock worked. Though you didn't have the intention of continuing anything at all with Soonyoung, something about being interrupted this way stung differently. 

By the time they had separated, you had chugged an entire can of beer, crushing the metal in your hand.

“And who might this be?” She looked at you, pushing her hair back. 

“She's the new member of camp seventeen Y/n,” He pointed between the two of you, “Y/n, this is Mina, my uh….”

“Girlfriend.” She smiled, with an unbelievably perfect set of teeth. “So the rumours are true. The infamous all-boys-celibate camp finally has a female presence. Tell me,” Her eyes glowed. “Have you gotten your eyes on any of them? Or even better,” She lowered her voice. “Have you gotten your hands on any of them already?”

You looked at Soonyoung, utterly uncomfortable. 

“Mina, you can’t ask such things-”

“Why not? It'll be between just us girls-” 

“Please.” He pulled her back. “Last I saw you, we broke up and now you just waltz back and-” 

“I know, I know. We never should have broken up in the first place. That whole fight was stupid.” She pouted, wrapping her arms around him tighter. “Forget about it Soonyoung-” 

“Forget about it?” His expression was of disbelief. “So you don't have anything to say to me?” 

She looked away, pretending like she was thinking before turning back to him with a smirk. “Yes, I do. I didn't wear any underwear today.” 

Inwardly groaning you stared at the design of the tile hoping the ground would just swallow you instead. You wanted to get the fuck out of here since this conversation was of no interest to you but moving was impossible with both their intertwined figures blocking the way. 

“Come on Soonyoung, it's been so long and I'm in the mood tonight. The bedrooms on the second floor won’t be free for long.” 

Soonyoung’s adam's apple shifted, his words stuck somewhere there as Mina held him by the wrist and began leading him away. As he was dragged off, you expected him to turn and shoot you a grateful look, instead, he looked at you wistfully. 

Your plan was simple - stuff your face with all the incredibly bougie food, catch some air in the patio away from all the noise and then leave with the boys whenever they were ready to go. Instead here you were, your plate somewhere unattended while you were gripping the edge of the sink, leaning over it, chest heaving as you stared into the mirror. 

Now you knew you weren’t supposed to be hogging the washroom for this long but you couldn’t bear to go out. One, you didn’t want to see Soonyoung and his girlfriend again - especially if she was going to be all over him like a leech because something about that sight made your stomach turn violently. And two, you were somehow, for no reason at all, incredibly wet.

Perhaps it was because suddenly, everyone in the party was quite literally all over each other, or because you were thinking about what happened in Soonyoung’s residence this time yesterday, or because you were just plain desperate to have something, anything inside you. 

Last night awakened something in you that you didn’t know existed and now nothing seemed to satiate the beast. Chiding yourself for being out here when you could have been in your own room, having your way with Soonyoung’s toy or your own fingers maybe, you gripped the sink tighter, feeling your heart rate rise unprompted. It was getting harder and harder to stay modest. 

The only thing that stopped you from putting your hand down your pants in a house full of sixty people on the other side of the door, was the knock on it. 

“What part of I am throwing up in here do you not- Oh!” You gasped, walking back as the door flung open and in stepped a slightly inebriated Chan. “What are you doing!?” 

“You won’t open the door….” He slurred. “It’s been so long, Seokmin was worried.” 

“How the hell did you open three locks….” You stared at the door as he slowly shut it behind him. 

“My father is the God of thieves. Are you really surprised that I can open any lock and any door?” 

“I guess not.” You muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. “But you didn’t need to, I was going to come out-” 

“You’ve been in here for over 20 minutes.” Chan crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “I thought you passed out or something.” 

“I wish.”

Passing out would be much better than whatever was going on between your legs. 

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.” 

“I’m not. I’m just waiting for us to head back.” 

“Then why ask to tag along?” He raised his eyebrow. “Does it have anything to do with the hostility between you and Seungcheol?” 

“So you noticed.” 

“I think everyone did.” Chan chuckled. “Do you want to tell me why or should I guess?” 

“Shoot your shot.” 

Chan shrugged all knowingly, “He rejected you.” 

You looked up at the boy before you so fast, you nearly fell back thanks to the inertia. 

“W-what makes you think that?”

“Sons of Zeus and Daughters of Aphrodite have a natural tendency to attract the opposite sex.” He stated like it was obvious. “Seungcheol has women swooning over him like they're in some sort of trance. He doesn't really care for them because he knows it's a mere chemical attraction thanks to his dad. Instead he just ignores them or if things get unbearable, he breaks their hearts so they snap out of it.” 

You knew Chan had to be quite tipsy to so bluntly place you in the list of women Seungcheol had rejected. It wasn't like that was it? Yesterday in the rain, he had hinted his feelings for you, he almost kissed you but….. what about what you were feeling? Was this irresistible attraction you felt towards him nothing but chemical? 

Considering how you had been feeling since Mina wrapped herself all over Soonyoung…. You wouldn't have felt that if your heart was set out on Seungcheol right? 

Then again….. it was Seungcheol’s name that left your mouth as you orgasmed yesterday. 

Staring at the floor you shook your head slightly. You could not think about last night again, not with how soaked you already were at the moment. 

“Hey,” Chan inched closer, putting his finger under your chin, lifting your face to meet your eyes. He did not however notice the way you pressed your thighs together at his touch. His eyes skimmed over the features of your face, a slight amused smile forming on his face. “You’re flushed…. Did you have any of Soonyoung’s alcohol?” 

You shook your head but were unable to shake his fingers from your face. “His blend is not my drink of choice.” 

“Oh gods, please don’t tell me you had any beer.” 

“I think I had two cans…… or maybe four?” You frowned. “I can't remember but I'm not drunk! Beer barely makes me-” 

“Y/n,” Sighing, Chan finally let you go. “Party rule number one, you never drink alcohol at an Aphrodite rager.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because Aphrodite’s children are a bunch of troublemakers. Don’t let their gorgeous faces fool you.” He brushed the hair off your face. “You must think people like Joshua are the finest to walk the Earth, but don’t judge a man without knowing his stories.” 

Joshua? You frowned. How could he be anything but a sweetheart? Soonyoung’s girlfriend maybe was an obnoxious toad but not Joshua. He was flawless. 

“You might as well have drank Soonyoung’s disgusting blend.” Chan muttered. “Why do you think his alcohol sells so well at these parties?” 

“Because his annoyingly beautiful girlfriend is a daughter of Aphrodite?” 

“Yes, but also because only the insane drink the booze served at an Aphrodite party. She may be the goddess of Love but she’s also the goddess of Sex and more importantly, her children are addicted to it.” Chan looked at you just a little worried. “Those drinks are their special concoctions of aphrodisiacs.” 

“A-aphrodisiacs???” 

“Aphrodite, aphrodisiacs - not far off huh?” He shrugged. “I’m not sure if it hit you yet - do you feel anything?” 

“No….” You shook your head. 

The correct answer was hell yes. Everything going on with you suddenly made sense but you couldn't tell Chan that, not him. 

“Are you not feeling unnaturally hot?” He looked at you concerned as he sat down beside you, his body unwittingly brushing against yours. “Doesn't the tiniest bit of proximity rile you up?” 

You didn’t answer him. You didn't need him to know just how much even his presence was affecting you thanks to those stupid sex potions.

“I should tell you beforehand, when it hits, it’s going to be intense but the longer you resist it, the stronger it gets.” You turned to him, only just realising how close his face was to yours. “The only chance you have of getting out of it…. is to give in.” 

Gulping you stared at him. The boy who was always bright, laughing around and cracking jokes like he was an old man was looking at you with unusually darkened eyes, his thighs pressed against yours, your hand inches away from him. 

The only chance you have of getting it out is to give in.

“Chan do you think….” You gulped. “...you can guard the door for a while?”

Perhaps if it were anyone but Lee Chan you would have climbed them by now. Because he was right - the more you tried to control yourself, the more you felt yourself slipping. But not with Chan, definitely not with him. He was far too sweet and innocent to be dragged into whatever mess was going on with you. 

“I might uh need a few minutes alone here.” You mumbled. 

Chan blinked like he didn't understand but when you looked away, wiping the sweat trickling down your neck in a pretty cold room, he seemed like he got it. 

“Oh y-yeah sure.” He got up quickly, not looking at you. “I'll be right outside.”

And with that he scurried out, closing the door behind him. 

The moment he disappeared you smacked your head - you didn't particularly enjoy beer anyways, why did you have to drink it tonight? If you were being honest, it was because of Soonyoung and his irritatingly gorgeous girlfriend and their unnecessary antics right in front of you face- 

No. 

No no no. 

You couldn't be spiralling with these thoughts again. Chan said the longer you resisted, it was going to get worse so you were going to do whatever it took to get this feeling out of your system. 

As you unbuttoned your shorts, you got up and leaned against the sink to avoid seeing your face in the mirror, barely able to meet your own eyes given what you were about to do. Pushing your embarrassment aside considering the need of the hour, you slid your hand past the material of your underwear, fingers feeling exactly how drenched you were. 

“Fucking hell.” You muttered. How was it possible that you were this wet absolutely unprompted and for no reason at all? What the hell was in those concoctions?? 

You thought you could just get off with your own fingers but given how easily they were sliding past your hole there was no way you could do this on your own, especially not here. Annoyed, you pulled your hand out and turned, washing it under the running water, sighing at your reflection in the mirror. Chan was right, you were incredibly flushed, your pupils were blown and the sheen of sweat was very evident - oh it was definitely getting worse. 

Maybe you could go find Mingyu and convince him to give you a ride back to camp. If you could get your hands on Soonyoung’s toy again, you could help yourself out of this. That was perhaps the best thing to do right now. 

Adjusting your hair and your clothes, you gave yourself a determined nod and opened the door, expecting to see Chan but finding someone else entirely guarding the door.

“M-Minghao.” You stuttered as he looked over his shoulder, eyes finding you.

“Party rule number two, never trust Lee Chan to do anything in a party with alcohol.” 

You should have known - he might be your age but Chan was like an overexcited child. And did Minghao just say rule number two? Did that mean he was aware….

“You’re still very aroused.” He smirked as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I’m guessing whatever you were trying to do in there didn’t work out.” 

You groaned. “I can’t believe Chan told you-” 

“He didn’t.” Minghao shook his head amused. You watched as he ran his eyes from your face down. “He didn’t have to, it’s pretty evident.” 

“I just need to get home and I’ll be fine-” 

“I don’t think so.” He dropped his voice, his wide frame covering anyone from seeing you. “On the contrary, you might quite literally pounce on the first guy you see-” 

“You’re the first guy.” 

Minghao’s eyes darkened as he looked at you wordlessly. Strangely, you felt something shift inside you too - oh god he was right.

“How much longer-”

“There’s bedrooms upstairs you know-” 

”Are you guys done-”  

“No.” Minghao shook his head, silencing the voices behind him as he slid his bracelet off his wrist and hooked it to the door handle, eyes not leaving you even once. “Get in.” 

Surprisingly you obeyed, taking a step back, allowing him to enter as he closed the door behind him much to the disappointment of the many queueing outside. 

“Y/n,” How was his voice so much deeper suddenly? “This is the exact kind of trouble the Aphrodite children are looking for. They want the drama that comes from the inability to control oneself, you’re better than that.” 

“What do you want me to do?” You groaned. “Before you shoved me back in here, I was trying to leave and get back to camp so I can deal with it myself-” 

“The art of war lies in self control.” He slid his arms in his pockets, looking at you just like he did every morning on the training field. “As a demigod, you are at your best when you learn how to control yourself. People misunderstand how this aphrodisiac works - you don't have to give in, it does wear off after a point. Most just don't happen to be able to control themselves till then.”

“Wears off at what point because Minghao, it's been barely 20 minutes since I’ve had those drinks and I’m barely able to get a hold of myself.” 

“Which is precisely why leaving right now is a horrible idea - you don’t have a hold over yourself.” He let out a deep breath. “We can fix it. We can stay here for however long you need and you can let this pass. Consider it a lesson in your training.” 

“We’re training in the middle of a party?” 

“As warriors we’re always training.” He walked past you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub like you had been just a while ago, looking annoyingly relaxed. “Do you think I enjoy these all-pink, snooty french parties? I come here just for the drinks.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Y-you had the beer too?” 

Minghao nodded. 

“On purpose? After knowing what they do?” 

He nodded again.

“Why in the world would you do that?” 

“To practise self control.” He stated like it was obvious.

“By drugging yourself?” 

“A good warrior is one who doesn’t allow himself to be governed by any kind of emotion - lust is usually the hardest to control.” 

“So that concoction has no effect on you?” 

“It's starting to hit.” Minghao looked at you intently as your eyes flickered down to his pants, noticing the bulge. “But I'm not the kind to give in.” 

“Well I think I'm the kind to.” You muttered, throat going dry as you peeled your eyes away. Minghao didn't. “I don't know how to explain it.” You shut your eyes tight, embarrassed of the words leaving you but you knew he might be the only person who understood where you were at. “but I have this feeling like I'm being clawed on the inside, like if I don't have anything in me right this second, I might just lose my mind.”

“I get it.” Your eyes flew open to find him standing right in front of you, his face inches away. “I feel like I'm on the edge of my sanity too but you can fight it.” 

Gulping you looked at the way his lips moved, the vein of his neck stark as was his collarbone peeking from under his shirt. Before this, you hadn’t actually noticed just how handsome Minghao was. 

“l can't.” You whispered, running your eyes over his features. “Can…can you help me?” 

Leaning closer, his gaze hardened. You could see there were thoughts running in that head of his - the warrior was engaged in a battle with himself. 

“Minghao please.”

Grabbing your waist, he spun you around swiftly, trapping you between his hands and the sink, meeting your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Help you how?” 

You looked at how his mouth was right by your ear and his frame so wide behind you that he was engulfing you merely with his presence. On one hand there were his arms, veins running up them as he gripped the edge of the sink and on the other was the fact that if you just took one step back, you knew you would feel his length pressed against you - both of which were making things exponentially worse. 

“Tell me how you want me to help Y/n.” He muttered, his breath soft against your ear.

“I… you know how-” 

“I was helping. I was telling you what to do-”

“Can't you do something instead?” Knowing exactly what you were doing, you took a small step back, pressing your back against his chest and your ass against his length. “Didn't you say it hit you too?” 

You thought it was a fair enough proposition. Both of you had taken the drink so it was easy to put the blame on it for anything that might potentially happen.

“But I don't need any help.” He shook his head adamantly. “If I help you, what's in it for me?” 

“I'll owe you one.” You sighed. “Whenever, wherever, please Minghao….”

“Remember those words.” He whispered, his hand snaking around your waist to unbutton your shorts, fingers lingering over your skin. 

“W-wait.” You gasped. Though this was exactly what you were expecting when you asked for his help, as it blended into reality, you felt an uncertainty kick in. “W-what if someone opens the door-”

“A door that has the bracelet of Ares on it?” Minghao's reflection raised his eyes amused. “They'd be crazy to.” 

“b-but what if…. I'm too loud or something. Wouldn't we be in trouble?”

“Y/n.” His hand drew back just a little. “Are you sure you want me to….” 

“Yes.” You shut your eyes mortified that just the feeling of him withdrawing his touch was physically painful. “Yes please …” 

Almost instantly Minghao obeyed, his hand snaking past the material of your shorts, just the thin layer of your underwear keeping his fingers away from you. 

“Oh you poor thing, you're drenched.”

You nodded as his hand pushed aside your panties, running his digits along your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, a fingertip prodding your hole ever so slightly. 

“I'm not sure two fingers are enough for you.” He muttered, groaning. “You really want a dick inside don't you?” 

“So bad.” You whispered back. “I wouldn't even mind two of them in me right now-” 

You felt your words die in your throat as Minghao chuckled, slipping his fingers into your wet hole. “Let's start with two of these first.” 

A soft moan left you as you agreed, hands gripping the edge tighter as his digits simply stayed inside you. 

“Look at you.” He muttered in your ear. “Open your eyes and look at yourself.” 

Hesitating you obeyed, catching sight of the two of you in the mirror as his free hand wrapped around your waist, holding you in place against him. Something about the way your small frame fit against his wider one was….nice. 

You wanted to ask him to move his fingers, to give you something but before you said it, he slowly began pumping his digits in and out, burying his face in the dip of your neck. As his mouth brushed your skin, you felt yourself tense around his fingers. 

“So tight. ” He mumbled. “Oh you'd be such a delight to fuck.” 

“Then fuck me.” You moaned as his fingers picked up speed. 

“Tempting.” His voice left him like a low growl as his teeth grazed your skin. “But I'm a man of principles.” 

“Are you sure?” Reaching for the hand on your waist, you led it up your torso under your shirt, guiding him to your tits.  

“No bra?” He half groaned, squeezing it. “What a doll.”

“Don't you want to fuck me?” Moaning you tried to push your ass further against his rock hard self. “Use me and we can both be free of this-” 

“Don't be greedy Y/n.” Contrary to his words, he let a third finger join his act. “Take what I'm giving you.” 

Feeling a lot more full now, you felt your jaw slacken and no words left as both his hands took turns to harshly pump and squeeze, his mouth along your shoulder and neck, leaving painful, stinging marks of red. 

“Faster.” You panted as his tongue ran along your skin to soothe the burn and fingers obeyed, stretching you out just right. Minghao could tell it wasn't enough and his thumb darted to your clit, having you keen in his arms. The moment he curled his fingers up, met your eyes in the reflection and whispered, “cum for me doll.”, all that was building inside you instantly snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves. 

Thank god he held you up against him because as you pressed your legs, riding out your climax, they began trembling. When your sight became clear and you came around, Minghao slowly let you go but whatever fire was burning inside you was not satiated. 

Fucking hell. 

“You need more?” Minghao chuckled as he took a step back and you turned to him, eyes still hooded with lust. 

“Perhaps just another…” You ran your hand down his chest, unzipping his hoodie, revealing his black tank top. “Finish off the favour.” 

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “As your campmate I did help. But now as your trainer, I'm going to let you get over the rest on your own.” 

“Minghao….” You groaned. If he was going to leave you halfway, he might as well not have done anything. Now you were, in fact, much more turned that you didn't think his fingers could even do the job anymore…..you needed the whole package. 

But like he said, Minghao was a man of principles, he wouldn't give in…. unless you could tempt him enough? 

Humming you looked around. The four walls of this bathroom did not seem like the right place to try and entice him but thankfully, you remembered Soonyoung’s girlfriend mentioning the bedrooms upstairs. 

“Fine.” You agreed, adjusting your clothes and buttoning up while Minghao washed his hands. Perhaps if the two of you found yourself in the proximity of one of those rooms, you could get him to succumb.

As you pulled your hair into a ponytail, Minghao opened the door, holding it for you to leave first but being the girl you were, you wantonly brushed your hand against his erection, pretending your actions were innocent. He stared at you as you walked away from him, stopping only at the edge of the staircase to glance at him before heading up, hoping he was following. 

Pushing through the crowd of people making out and feeling each other up in a way that was far from decent, you glanced down the corridor, slightly surprised. The house didn’t seem so big from the outside but the corridor before you looked endless with dozens of rooms on either side. You walked past them, avoiding the ones with socks on the knobs, knocking on some to receive screams of ‘go away’ and ‘taken’ and opening some unanswered doors to sights you wished you never saw. Half disturbed and half amused you continued to try and find an empty room when the sound of a particular something made you stop your tracks, eyes widening. 

Your name. 

Your name sounding like a strangled moan, repeated over and over, getting breathless with each word.

Gulping, you slowly pushed the door next to you open, both terrified and curious about what you were going to see because a part of you recognised that voice - it was one you heard on camp all the time. 

Sure enough, before you was a large bed, Soonyoung sitting against the headboard, his pants pushed down his thighs and his dick in his fist, pumping it hard and fast. He didn’t seem to notice your presence, his eyes screwed shut as your name continued to spill from his mouth. Of course this wasn’t the first time you were seeing Soonyoung do this but something had most definitely changed since last time. 

When you took a step ahead, letting the door close behind you, the click of it shutting was what finally got his attention, his eyes flying open. Catching sight of you he immediately swore loudly, tucking his length back into his pants, face turning a lot more red than it already was. 

“God woman, how long have you-” 

“Long enough to hear whose name you were saying.” You looked at him guiltily. “Soonyoung, you have a girlfriend-” 

“Mina and I are not together.” He confessed, gulping.”She wanted to but for the first time ever I refused to….” 

“Why?” You whispered, terrified of the answer. Please, please, please. Kwon Soonyoung cannot be in love with you. 

“For the last ten years I thought no one could make me feel the way she did and that’s why the two of us belong with each other but….” He sighed. “I learnt that that’s not true.” 

You blinked at him as he looked at you softly. 

“And you know why it’s not true.” 

“Soonyoung we….” You walked in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened between us was just a favour, one friend to another. How can there be something between us-” 

“I know.” He nodded. “I’m not saying I’m in love with you or something, I…. I myself don’t really know, all this is new to me too.” 

“But what you were doing,” You tried not to glance at his pants where his erection was still very much evident. “That seemed like-” 

“Y/n I’ve only ever been with one woman my whole life who gave me a boner before I turned her down for good.” He couldn’t look at you either. “What else could I really do…..” 

A part of you understood him. You too were incredibly wound for a while now and you knew what it was like to try and fight it - you too had succumbed. In fact you were still not fully rid of the feeling and Soonyoung was right before you, just as aroused. Yesterday could be justified as an ignorant act whose consequences were not expected but if you went through with this today, there was no coming back from it. It wouldn’t be right…..

.

.

.

But fuck it. 

“You didn’t finish, did you?” 

Soonyoung shook his head slowly

Sighing, you kicked off your shoes and climbed on the bed on all fours, crawling towards him as he held his breath. 

“This is yet another favour.” You clarified, more to yourself than him, “Just so you can understand if it's me you want to fuck or just anyone who's not your girlfriend.” 

W-what?” He stuttered as your hand found the waistband of his pants. “We're going to…?” 

“We don't have to if you don't want to-” 

“Yes.” He breathed out, nodding fast. “God yes I want to.” 

Smiling just a little, you pulled his pants down a bit, the way they were when you had entered. His erection sprung out, lying against his shirt, the tip pink and flushed. You were familiar with how it looked, but this was the most up close you had seen it and the first time you touched it as you wrapped your wrist around the base, earning a hiss from him. 

“How long have you been hard?” 

“Over 20 minutes.” He groaned. “Ever since we spoke at the table…. your ass looked fucking good when you bent over the table.” 

“Yeah?” You pumped his length slowly. “You're not too bad yourself. Your abs are hot.”

Almost immediately, without needing to be told, Soonyoung pulled his sweatshirt over his head, tossing it on the floor. 

“Good boy.” Tongue darting out, you licked the precum on his slit, looking up at his blown pupils. “You taste good too.” 

“Fuck y/n, I might just cum right now.” 

“In my mouth?” You cooed. “Not inside me?”

Groaning Soonyoung threw his head back. Honestly, you had no idea how these words were even leaving you - you owed it to both the aphrodisiac coursing through you and also how submissive Soonyoung seemed in your hands. So reactive, so easy to please. 

The moment you took his tip in your mouth, his hand gripped your ponytail, trying to push himself further in. Pulling back with a wet pop, you clicked your tongue. 

“Uh huh.” You shook your head. “If we do this we do this my way.” 

“Do whatever the fuck you want.” He panted, his thighs twitching. “I'm all yours.” 

Although you had some thoughts about that statement you didn't voice them. One because you really wanted to suck him off and two because you heard a voice you knew most definitely wasn't Soonyoung. 

“So this is how you choose to tempt me.” 

Before you Soonyoung froze, eyes looking past you at the door where Minghao was standing. You could tell the man before you was both shocked and embarrassed and wanted to cover himself up but you didn't move to give him room for that. 

“If you're worried about your modesty Kwon, you should know I don't give a fuck.” Minghao leaned back against the door. “I'm only interested in what Y/n has to offer.” 

Soonyoung looked at you confused as you smiled just a little. Oh you managed to crack him and it didn't even take much. 

“Tell him my offer is still open.” You ran your tongue from his base up. “If you’re okay with it too that is.” 

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, finally realising what was happening. You doubted that he wouldn't be okay with it - the man was quite literally falling apart in your hands. 

Sure enough, he slowly nodded.

“From only one woman ever to this overnight?” Minghao raised his eyebrow. “Your girlfriend must've put you up to a really strong dose of those sex potions.” 

“I didn't drink a-any beer.” Soonyoung muttered as you ran your eyes over his face. He was the same as you - pupils widened, face flushed, breath fast and shallow. 

Oh. 

“You're telling me that woman isn't capable of slipping in a little something to entice her boyfriend who won't crawl back to her like he always does?” Minghao chuckled. “Because I think so.”

Well wasn't this ideal, now you could justify everything that was happening - it was simply three people succumbing to the effects of an aphrodisiac - nothing personal, nothing beyond anything physical. Except deep down you knew it must mean something if despite being drugged Soonyoung rejected his girlfriend because of you and Minghao who was a man of impeccable self control was crumbling for you. 

Except he hadn't really yet. 

Deciding to leave the thoughts for another time, you slightly looked over your shoulder at the man who was leaning against the wall. 

“Only my mouth is busy, I have two more free holes you know.” 

You could tell that something about the energy in the room had shifted the moment you said that, like it was only a matter of time before Minghao joined. Sure enough, you heard the lock of the door click behind you and from the way Soonyoung gulped and his eyes followed his teammate, you could tell Minghao had neared. Wrapping your mouth around the older man's tip again, you hummed at the weight of his dick on your tongue. 

“F-fuck.” Soonyoung groaned under his breath. 

As the bed dipped behind you, you knew Minghao had climbed in, finally succumbing, finally giving in. . 

“Is that the best you got?” He chuckled with a deep voice, pushing your knees apart with his own and running his hand down along your back as Soonyoung stared at him wide eyed. “That won't be enough for me.”

You could feel your mouth practically water, drool leaking down the corner of your lips as you took Soonyoung further in your mouth, earning a pained hiss. Minghao though was still not satisfied as he bent over, one hand unbuttoning your shorts, his breath at the shell of your ear, whispering. 

“Take care of my friend and I'll take care of you.” You looked at Soonyoung to see his eyes flickering between the two of you. “The louder he moans, the harder you'll get it.” 

Most definitely motivated, you sunk Soonyoung’s length deeper into your mouth, his tip touching the back of your throat, a deep groan leaving the man as his hand gripped your hair again to hold you back. 

Minghao smacked it away with the shake of a head as he drew himself back, fingers hooking onto your waistband as he pulled down both your shorts and panties in one go, letting it pool at your bent knees.

You could feel your arousal drip down your legs given how incredibly wet you were. A part of you wanted to see Minghao's face but then you would have missed the sight of Soonyoung panting, looking down at you like the mere smell of you had awakened something wild in him. To make things a whole lot worse, Minghao ran his fingers up your slit, playing with your wetness before gathering it on his digit and holding it out to his friend. 

“Want a taste?” 

“Bold of you to assume this is my first time.” Soonyoung smirked as he sucked off Minghao's fingers and you grinned to yourself. Atta boy. 

Minghao chuckled as he pulled his fingers away, smearing the wetness on the cheek of your ass, landing a smack that sent a sharp sting, making you moan around Soonyoung. 

“Barely a week in camp and look at you.” He mimicked his actions on your other cheek, the impact jerking your forward, Soonyoung’s length slipping into your throat. “Good girl.” 

“So fucking good.” Soonyoung moaned. “That mouth is divine.”

“Not more than this.” Cupping the curve of your ass, Minghao dipped his finger into your quivering hole. You keened at the sensation, but didn't stop working on Soonyoung's dick - you knew if you gave Soonyoung what he needed, Minghao would give you what you wanted and god did you want to feel full of him. When you grinded against his hips, his hands left you and you finally heard the sound of Minghao's zipper despite the lewd noises leaving your mouth being much louder. 

“Fuck baby just like that.” Soonyoug groaned as you picked up the speed, making him feel more and more of your throat. 

You still couldn't tell what Minghao was doing, the absence of his touch testing your patience, your teeth accidentally grazing Soonyoung’s dick making him hiss in pain. 

Minghao chuckled, adjusting your body on each knee to pull out the clothes on your lower half and when he aligned himself behind you, you could tell he discarded his own too. His hands returned to your ass which you guessed was faint red, a colour that was exceedingly a part of Minghao's life, a colour he seemingly enjoyed. Although you did want him to rail you into tomorrow, you didn't mind if he took a moment to admire what he saw. 

As though he was lost in thought about the same, Minghao dragged his dick along your folds, his length bumping your clit and sending a jolt down your nerves, before he aligned himself.

“W-wait” Looking at his friend, Soonyoung let out a strangled cry. “She hasn't been prepped-”

“Oh Kwon.” You felt his tip pushing into your needy wet hole. “She's already ready for me.” 

And with that he buried himself to the hilt, the suddenness making you choke around Soonyoung’s length much to the latter's surprise and delight. Barely giving you the time to get a hold of yourself, Minghao began thrusting into you, the force pushing your mouth to take more of Soonyoung, your hands painfully gripping his thighs. The older man, who could have been a little more considerate, also began ramming his dick into your mouth, barely allowing you to breathe. 

You could feel yourself losing a grip on reality, one man fucking you onto another - you never thought you would ever find yourself in a situation like this but here you were, being wrecked on both ends by men who were strangers just a week ago but god did it feel good. 

Minghao bunched the material of your shirt, pushing it up along your spine, as you pulled yourself away from Soonyoung, desperate to get some air before you passed out. He groaned at the loss of your warm mouth but his expression turned fond as you looked up at him, drool running down your chin messily. Considering you looked absolutely fucked out, you didn't get why he was so enamoured as he tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“Shit I could watch you all day sweetie.” 

You wanted to say something back but your throat felt too sore and bruised so you settled on just giving him a sweet smile. Minghao watched the interaction between the two of you intently, his movements slowing down to deep, hard strokes. You could feel him so far in, reaching spots no one ever had before. Not even Cheol’s dildo model. 

“Do you need a breather?”

Soonyoung's concern laced voice was echoed by another one that sounded a lot more condescending.  

“Do you?”

Though you had barely gotten any air in you for so long and your eyes were threatening to roll back, you knew Minghao would only allow you to cum if Soonyoung did and man did the latter have the stamina of a bull. 

Shaking your head you spat in your hand and wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, stroking it. 

“I'm tired.” You muttered. “Fuck me Soonyoung.” 

Forgetting Minghao’s previous instructions to not use his hands, Soonyoung obeyed, gripping your hair again, guiding your mouth back to his cock. 

“Tap me twice if you want to stop.” 

Much to his surprise, you took him in at a whole new depth, making him throw his head back in pleasure as he held your head down, dick getting squeezed down your throat. At the same time the man behind you decided to pay attention to your clit, making you tremble at the combined sensation but there was nothing you could do - you were at the mercy of both men. 

As Soonyoung loosened his grip, allowing you draw back, you barely had the time to catch a breath before he was fucking his dick into your mouth, at the same speed Minghao was ravaging you from behind. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Soonyoung groaned as his movements got sloppy and his grip tight. 

“Fuck I'm gonna come.” 

Oh fucking finally. 

But to your complete surprise, you felt Minghao's weight press against your back as he leaned over you, hips not stopping their abuse on your hole, whispering, 

“Enough.” 

Although you knew it was cruel, you immediately tapped Soonyoung’s thigh and the moment he let you go confused, you pulled away, looking at him guiltily as you got on all fours.

“That's my good girl.”

“Xu Mingao.” Soonyoung groaned as the other man drew back. “What the hell?!” 

Minghao simply chuckled. “You know how much I enjoy pain.”

“Sadist.” Soonyoung mumbled, trying to push himself to the edge again, pumping his length slick with your spit, hard and fast. 

“Oh no.” Minghao shook his head, continuing to fuck the living daylights out of you. “If you cum I'm not letting you get a taste of this.”

“That's for Y/n to tell.” 

“Tell him doll.” 

You didn't know how he expected you to answer as he rolled his hips against your ass, hitting all the spots.

“Tell him what you want.” 

“Don't you…” You moaned as Minghao tightened his grip on you painfully. “Don't you want to cum inside me?”

Muttering under his breath, Soonyoung looked at you with eyes filled with lust. You could tell he was leaning to kiss you, but suddenly Minghao's hand wrapped around your neck, drawing you away. 

Sitting on his ankles, he pulled you back till your thighs rested on him and stripped you of your shirt, baring your body to Soonyoung like a mannequin on display. 

“Didn't you say you could watch her all day?” He smirked at the older man, hand snaking around your waist. “Now watch.” 

You finally seem to understand where the shift in intentions was coming from as he began snapping his hips up into you. Though he wasn't hitting you as deep, his fingers found your clit again and was tightening that knot in you unbelievably fast, your body growing hot and tense. 

It was the sound of Soonyoung’s soft sigh that brought you attention back to him as he watched where Minghao disappeared into you with unwavering eyes, fully discarding his pants. When you let out another unholy moan, he looked up, not before his eyes lingered at your tits, his tongue running along his lower lip ravenously. At the sight of him and with Minghao hitting that spot once again, you finally convulsed around him, your orgasm hitting you with an intensity it never had before. Under your grip as tight as a vice, Minghao swore in your ear as he came too, ropes of his release painting your insides. 

It was only when his warmth hit your walls that you realised he had not worn a condom and you had not cared.

Before you could justify to yourself that Demigods probably didn't get STDs and it didn't matter, Minghao pulled himself out, depriving you of his girth to clamp around. With a swift movement that was all a blur to you, he manhandled you around till you felt your back aligning against Soonyoung’s chest, the latter spreading your legs apart, the mixed releases leaking out of you, onto his dick. 

“Just a little longer.” Minghao tilted your head up by the chin, face hovering over yours. “Be a doll will you?”

You nodded as Soonyoung slipped himself into you with a groan. 

“Fuck I don't think I'm going to last long enough anyways.” 

Considering you still hadn't even fully come down from your orgasm yet, Soonyoung's intrusion felt like an intense surge of pleasure shooting up your being. Overwhelmingly, in less than a thrust or two, you found yourself cumming again almost immediately, walls fluttering, tightening around him. 

Muttering a string of fucks, Soonyoung bit down on your shoulder, his hips moving erratically as he felt himself nearing his high. Cooing into his ear though his thrusts were starting to get painful given your sensitivity, you rolled your hips and with two sharp jerks, Soonyoung finally emptied his load straight into you, cumming copiously. 

As he softly held you against him, letting your breaths slowly become regular again, your vision finally cleared and you caught sight of a half naked Minghao before you, watching you snuggled in the arms of his friend. Your eyes ran down, finally catching sight of the dick that had been inside you, lips curling into a small smile. 

“Good?” 

He asked, scanning your features as he slid off the bed.

“So good.” You muttered, beckoning him with your hand. 

Narrowing his eyes confused, he walked around, picking up all the clothes tossed around before he neared you. Pulling him closer to the edge of the bed by the hand, you wrapped your hand around his dick, leaning over to take it in your mouth. As you licked it clean, tasting your mixed releases along his length, you watched his eyes darken. 

“Just wanted to be fair.” 

“You're not satiated are you?” He smirked amused as you slowly shook your head. “Careful doll, you won't be able to stay conscious through another round with us.” 

“I know..” You muttered, snuggling back into Soonyoung’s chest. “I’m tired. Wanna go back.” 

“Let's clean you and get you dressed first.” Soonyoung patted your head softly, unwilling to move as your eyes began fluttering shut. “Hao, open that third drawer under the sink, there's washcloths in there.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“This is my gir- ex girfriend's room.” Soonyoung muttered. 

That information seemed to surprise even Minghao who was usually quite unfazed. “You're crazy Kwon.” 

He voiced your thoughts as he disappeared into the bathroom, shaking his head. Within seconds he returned, handing a white towel to Soonyoung who slowly wiped you clean, trying not to brush any sensitive areas.

Just as he finished and his lips softly pressed against your temple asking you not to fall asleep, the sound of a knock resounded in the room, along with a voice.

“Anyone from Camp Seventeen here?” 

“Yes.” Minghao frowned in response.

“Someone is here looking for your team. Says it's code yellow.” 

You watched as the boys shared looks, panicked. Slowly pulling himself away from you, Soonyoung caught the clothes Minghao threw to him, the two of them moving quickly to dress themselves.Pulling your hair into a neat ponytail again and trying to ignore your aching body, you swung your legs off the bed.

“What’s going on?” 

“Get dressed.” Minghao handed you your clothes, looking tense. “When a team member calls a code, it means everyone needs to gather immediately.” 

 You nodded, half understanding as you began to dress yourself. “But what's code yellow?” 

Looking at your shivering self, Minghao threw you his hoodie, which you slipped on, letting it envelop you in its warmth. 

“Yellow is a moderate danger alert.” Soonyoung held the door open for you as Minghao stepped out. “It most likely means the camp is under attack.”

Oh fuck. 

Pushing through the crowd, you followed the boys downstairs, trying not to lose them in their hurry. Noticing you lagging behind thanks to the fact that you were struggling to walk, Soonyoung grabbed your hand, wrapping his hand around your wrist. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Seokmin and Joshua laughing away with a group of girls but before you could call them along, you were dragged away in the urgency of the boys you were with. As you reached the front door, coming to a halt right behind Minghao, your eyes fell on the familiar back of a man leaning against the frame. 

Oh no.

“Chief.” 

Seungcheol turned as both boys bowed, greeting him. 

You simply stared wordlessly, as the blonde man's eyes found you, flickering from the jacket you had donned, to Soonyoung's hand which was still holding yours. 

Behind him lightning cracked opened the sky and rain began pouring furiously. 

a/n - please send me your thoughts - this series is waaaay out of my comfort zone, I need to know I'm not completely messing shit up and if I missed you in the taglist, please lmk! Also please be patient for chapter 3 - I have to temporarily shift focus to my other stories as well, I will be back here soon!

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𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦

pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 24k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani

DISCLAIMER: as some parts of the hwarang series appear in every route, some scenes will appear the same with major to minor differences within the text.

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 1𝔰𝔱, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds have begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol keeps warm under the building’s floors. 

Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting is still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you can leave. 

 A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that feel more familiar, even if they are men’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much they hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation. 

Jihoon, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.

As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Jihoon had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.

Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed fairly quickly. When you were little you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.

Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts for a brief moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank. 

With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help out as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at. 

So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Jihoon allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is. 

The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.

As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room. 

“There you are!” Youngmin, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room. 

“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment. 

“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about. 

“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few steps out of the room.

“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”

“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Jihoon’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Jihoon had neglected to inform Youngmin that you hadn’t actually been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you. 

“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.

“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Youngmin then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”

You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”

Youngmin chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Jihoon’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us every once in a while, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.” 

“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Youngmin, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Jihoon’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Youngmin’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”

A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”

He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Jihoon can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”

To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Youngmin knows him much better than you do.

“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Youngmin sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Jihoon had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Youngmin’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly. 

After Youngmin had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.

All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.

Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely. 

“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.

“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken. 

Your gaze hardens as you see Boo Seungkwan standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully. 

“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”

Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Hansol steps in from the hallway.

“I think that’s enough picking on her, Seungkwan.” He frowns at the other.

“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out. 

“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Hansol’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”

“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.

“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Hansol notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking of the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you. 

Soonyoung rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Hansol apologizes to the younger.

Soonyoung then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Junhui’s gonna eat all of the food again.”

“Sorry Captain Kwon, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself.

His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Captain Kwon’ thing? Just call me Soonyoung, everyone else here does.”

“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.

“Alright then… Soonyoung.” 

“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”

The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really are able to leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.

“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wen Junhui as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes so as to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall. 

“You mean ‘growling’,” Soonyoung snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Junhui, you move to sit on the other side of Junhui, next to Mingyu. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”

“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”

A small ‘tch’ from Mingyu as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”

There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Junhui’s voice begins to raise on your right.

“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Soonyoung’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Soonyoung’s tray. “Survival of the—”

“Survival of the fittest my ass, Junhui,” the other retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wen’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Soonyoung’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”

Junhui laughs, you hear Mingyu also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Soonyoung. I’ve got a bigger body; therefore I need more food.” 

“No way, I’ve gotta eat too!” Soonyoung protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the other back. 

“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Mingyu, at the tailend of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.” 

“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Hansol, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.

“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Hansol questions Seungkwan, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.

“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.

“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Junhui pokes, gaze shifting from Soonyoung to Seungkwan for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”

“Go for it,” Seungkwan scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Junhui as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.” 

“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Mingyu sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten.  

“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Seungkwan speaks up again.  

“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach. 

“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you.  

“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Hansol says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him.  

“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Mingyu speak again.

“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics.  

It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it.  

But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Song Eunseok enters the room.  

“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Seungcheol’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.” 

Your brows raise as Seungkwan shouts out, “What the hell happened?!”  

“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Seungcheol and Jihoon arrived in time to subdue them, however, Seungcheol was injured at some point during the fight.” 

“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin.  

“According to Jihoon's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Eunseok’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”   

“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status.  

“Seungcheol should be returning in a few days,” Eunseok nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Kwak some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room.  

“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Hansol almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.”  

“... If push comes to shove he’ll have to take it. Seungcheol’s not just going to give up like that,” Seungkwan frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap.  

“Don’t say that, Boo,” Junhui’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.”  

“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?” 

“Furies,” Soonyoung begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—” 

“Soonyoung!” Before you know it, Mingyu is on his feet and striding around you to the captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes.  

“Ah—” Soonyoung’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have. 

“You’re overreacting, Kim.” Junhui stands, trying to pry Mingyu’s irontight grasp away from Soonyoung. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Mingyu relinquishes Soonyoung’s green robes from his grip, Junhui shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.” 

“I should’ve watched myself,” Soonyoung sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment.  

Junhui’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret.  

“Those Furies that Soonyoung was talking about are pitiful men,” Seungkwan states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind.  

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Junhui says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.” 

Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious.  

“Try your best to forget about it,” Hansol warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.” 

The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through. 

Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Hansol had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember. 

For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them. 

With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before slipping into bed and trying to drift off to sleep.  

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 3𝔯𝔡, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Jihoon and Seungcheol had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Seungcheol’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him.  

On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude.  

Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Seungcheol was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts.  

In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Lee Jihoon, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you. 

Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case.  

“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Lee… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful.  

“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” 

“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!” 

Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly.  

“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.”  

“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang.  

“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?” 

“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you. 

“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?”  

You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side.  

“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Jihoon approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Kwak.” 

“Is that right?” Jihoon’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.” 

“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Choi is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.” 

“That’s quite alright,” Jihoon waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Kwak is out on training runs with Kwon’s squadron today.” 

“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Jihoon doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?” 

“Yes,” Jihoon nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.” 

A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.”  

Once the stranger has exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Jihoon speaks up. 

“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.” 

“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize. 

“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shoshin,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?” 

“Understood,” you nod. “But can I ask who that man was?” 

“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Jihoon looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.” 

“Okay.” 

“Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done. 

A wordless nod, understanding that asking any more of him would cause his mood to sour even more so after his meeting with Suh Kangjoon. Jihoon turns on his heels the same time as you, drifting away towards his room on the opposite end of the compound while you shuffle back to yours. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The air thick with humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had traveled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Eunseok as company.   

Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule. 

Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not.  

It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Hansol appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Lee would like a word with you.” 

A wordless nod and you begin to follow him. Hansol leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Hansol go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, Junhui and Soonyoung standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting.  

“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Jihoon says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence.  

Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts. 

“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Jihoon cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.” 

“So, where is this man who said he saw him?”  

“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Hansol’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Jihoon had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area? 

“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Kim chimes in. 

“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.”  

“Exactly,” Jihoon sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.” 

“All of us?” Soonyoung’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.” 

Rather than entertaining Soonyoung with a response, Jihoon looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father. 

“We get what you’re trying to say, Jihoon,” Seungkwan notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit, why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?” 

“Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Jihoon scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Li. She isn’t my page.” 

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Seungkwan notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?” 

As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Mingyu moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.” 

  It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Jihoon as his page, or stay here, from what Mingyu had suggested.  

“I think I should stay behind today,” after a moment of thinking, you come to the conclusion. There was no assurance that your father is out on the streets of Seorabeol still, and the looming threat of danger still hangs over the city. 

“What?!” Soonyoung frowns, “But what about your father?” 

“I have to understand my place here too, though… We don’t even know if he’s there anymore,” you give him a small smile and nod, “I’m sure more chances will come.” 

“If you say so,” he sounds a bit jilted, “But if you’ve already made up your mind there’s no convincing you…” 

After that, the men deliberate their plans before heading off to their respective destinations and you return to your room. The thought of not going eats away at you, maybe it would’ve been better to take the risk and venture out… 

“If you’re going to regret it that much, you should’ve gone with them.” 

The voice behind you startles you from your thoughts, you swivel on your heels to greet who’d interrupted your thinking, “Seungkwan… I’m not regretting it.” Yet, you are, so much so that you can’t bear to look into his eyes. But he smiles wryly, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Not at all?” He asks with a grin, “Not even if you knew Hansol and I went out of our way to convince Jihoon?” 

“You what…?” The revelation sucks the air from your lungs, not expecting him to say that at all. Had you wasted their kindness? “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—” 

“Ah, well, it was actually Hansol that convinced him. I just stood behind him and nodded lightly.” 

“Even so,” you say as you look at him, “I’m sorry… I’ll apologize to Hansol later— Should there be another opportunity, please give me another chance to join you.” 

Seungkwan hesitates for a moment before responding, his eyes focusing deeply on yours, “You may be able to accompany us, but you’d better keep that blade sheathed. We don’t need any recklessness holding us back.” His eyes are serious but his smile remains bright, “If there’s any sign of you becoming an issue, I won’t hesitate to put my blade through you.” 

“I understand,” you say, nodding plaintively. 

The Hwarang says nothing more as he removes his hand from you, turning on his heels and making his way out of the main hall.

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Kwon Soonyoung and Boo Seungkwan stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrolling rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Lee Jihoon. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains make you feel somewhat more relieved, you wouldn’t have to face the Demon commander alone. 

“You asked to see me?”  There is a sour look on Jihoon’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him. 

“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Jihoon’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.” 

“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have. 

Jihoon remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.” 

“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. 

The commander nods before turning to Soonyoung and Seungkwan, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.” 

“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Soonyoung. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… I feel kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.” 

“Mhm,” Seungkwan nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.” 

“I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Seungkwan for a moment before you look back to Jihoon, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.” 

“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Seungkwan shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Jihoon, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.” 

“You might have a point, Boo. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.” 

“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.” 

Jihoon looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you, before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?” 

“Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him. 

“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.” 

It feels like no time at all before you reach the city’s streets accompanying Seungkwan on his rounds. 

“It feels like there’s more people here than usual…” You note as you walk, having to move to the side several times to let flocks of people pass by as the street lay cramped. 

“Mind yourself,” Seungkwan notes, pulling you to the side, out of the way of a passing cart. “Try not to wander off or something. Remember that you’re here to keep me company on my rounds.” 

“Sorry I was just distracted by everyone!” You say, brushing off the dust on your pants, “The city’s much livelier now.” 

His eyes twinkle and he smiles voraciously; you can sense him relax. “Well, there’s a summer festival happening soon, things are busier, I’ll give you that.” His smile wanes just a bit, “Of course, some of those loyalists are acting pretty strange too. What I’m saying is, watch yourself, alright?” 

As you walk down the street with his division, no one comes within a few yards of you; they step away as soon as their eyes catch sight of the blues. You’d noticed this phenomenon briefly when you’d first joined the Hwarang on their rounds, but it seems clear that the people of Seorabeol hold some sort of respect for these men. 

You stop every so often to ask some of the less intimidated passersby if they’d seen your father. Yet, after a few hours of searching, you finally meet someone who claims to have seen a man matching your description.

“Oh, yeah… I think I might’ve seen that guy a while back, over at Joon’s.” As he speaks, he points toward a store selling inkstones and brushes.

“Thank you!” You say as Seungkwan catches your eye, giving you a stern look. It almost looks as if he’s going to scold you when— 

“You there! Are you from the Kang household?!” The cry comes from a Hwarang, and Seungkwan turns from you, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Your household is currently under investigation by order of the Crown.” 

“Well shit…” Seungkwan sighs out, reaching for his sword as he looks at the men in question. “I guess they would choose the worst possible time to stir up trouble.” 

Like leaves scattering in a storm, the townspeople move out of Seungkwan’s way as he moves towards the commotion. For a moment you panic in the mass of fleeing citizens, but perhaps realize it’s best. If you stay too close, you may distract Seungkwan from his duties. 

You duck off into a nearby alley to watch, planning to return to the men once the tension simmers. 

“Hey kid,” a gravelly voice of an elder shopkeeper cries out, “Come over here, you don’t want to get caught up in that.” 

Time and time you’d been told to be wary of strangers while with the Hwarang, and you’re about to politely refuse his gesture when you realize that his shop is the one that the civilian had pointed out to you just moments earlier. 

“Excuse me, but is this Joon’s?” 

“Yes,” the man nods, “It is.” 

“Great!” You cry out, only before being interrupted by another shop employee. 

“Kang! This guy was just with the Hwarang!”

“What?!” The elder says, his eyebrows raising. 

“Huh? I’m not a member of the Hwarang.” You push, but the elder already seems to be backing up into his shop, obviously disinterested in helping you now. “No—it’s not like that! I’m just looking for someone!” Even if you’d just been walking with them, their reaction seems a bit excessive. 

A laugh behind you and you see Seungkwan standing there with his arms crossed, “You really have the shittiest luck, don’t you? Still, I guess you could say the same about them, or me.” He gives a small, unconcerned shrug before reaching for his blade and barreling his way through the door of the shop. 

Joon’s explodes with the clang of blades, men swearing and scrambling. 

When you return to the Hwarang headquarters, Seungcheol has a number of… less than pleasant words to say. Seungkwan and you kneel for quite some time as the colonel berates you before the other speaks up. 

“You don’t need to lose your head over it Seungcheol,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, we arrested a couple of loyalists.”  

After the fighting was finished, you’d discovered a massive arms cache, as well as plans for a new meeting for the loyalists. No one had bothered to explain to you what had been going on, however, and you’d been completely lost. 

“Not something to lose my head over?” Seungcheol frowns, “My head is right where it belongs. Perhaps you should inquire after yours. The man claiming to be Joon Hyunjin was, in truth, Kang Kwanghyeon, a loyalist spy. You were aware that the Hwarang were allowing him to operate in hopes of gathering enemy intel?” 

“Yes,” Seungkwan nods, rising to his feet as Mingyu walks into the hall, “but we didn’t have a choice this time. I had to bring him in.” 

“Well at least it wasn’t a total bust,” Mingyu adds, “Like Seungkwan said, they did arrest some guys.” 

“But don’t you feel bad for Wonwoo and Chan?” Soonyoung asks, trailing behind Mingyu. Had they been outside the doors this whole time? “They were staking out the place to keep an eye on Kwanghyeon.” 

The corners of Soonyoung’s mouth twitch into a smile, but Wonwoo interrupts him to continue. “We appreciate your concern, Soonyoung, but nobody needs to lose any sleep on our account. We hadn’t been getting anywhere with him the last few days, Seungkwan did us a favor.” 

Chan nods in silent agreement. “His arrest is over and done, you won’t hear any complaints from us about it, though.” 

“You’re the definition of stoic and reasonable,” Junhui sighs out, crossing his arms, “Seungkwan on the other hand…” It doesn’t seem as if he’s going to let Seungkwan get away without rubbing his mistake in his face. 

“It’s all my fault,” you say, “Some loyalists were causing trouble, so I tried to get out of the way… I was going to go back to Seungkwan after it settled but the crowds pushed me too far away.” 

“But who was tasked with looking after you?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes glaring at you, expression hard and angry. “A captain of the Hwarang can’t even track a charge. Is this the best we can do?” When you’d first met Seungcheol, he’d been nice, if anything a little quiet. After his injury, however… It was as if he’d become an entirely different person. 

“I told her she could go.” Jihoon says as he walks into the hall, “They were only following orders.”

Seungcheol’s eyes trail him as he moves to stand at the head of the room. He gives the commander a tight, wry smile, but only receives a peaceful, impartial glance in return. 

“If you’re here, then that means you’re done interrogating Kwanghyeon, right?” Mingyu asks expectantly. 

“They’re going to wait for a day when the wind picks up, then set Seorabeol on fire and kidnap the King while everyone else is losing their shit.” Jihoon answers, “So they say, at least.” His voice is calm and measured, but you can all feel the import of his words. 

“Burn down the city?” Junhui scoffs, “Those loyalists are crazier than I thought.” 

“Whatever their reasons, we cannot ignore them,” Hansol says plainly. 

“They’re probably meeting tonight to scramble together a plan without Kwanghyeon in it.” Jihoon says, “We need to get ready to move out.” 

“Understood,” Hansol nods. 

“Finally,” Junhui says as he stretches, several pops coming from his back, “I’m getting chills.” 

Even though each man displays their professionalism differently, they are all clearly prepared. As they quiet down, Jihoon turns towards you, as if he’d only just noticed you’re standing there. 

“We did get some information on Heo, apparently he visited Joon’s with some men from the west.” 

“What?” 

“So, the rumors that he was seen in Seorabeol were true, but that’s all there is to it.” 

There are so many questions running through your head that you want to ask but you know that no one here has an answer for them.

Preparations for the raid begin immediately after the captains are all gathered in the main hall. There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that light the entrances and walls. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.

 It still affects you all the same. Your encounter at Joon’s created some of their current headache, and you hope to make up for it. Yet, any offer of assistance now is rebuked, it became quite clear that you have very little to offer when it comes to preparing for a raid. At the end of it, you stick to the wall, standing there quietly to avoid being a burden.

“Youngmin has only twelve men ready to fight,” Hansol murmurs to Mingyu. 

“And Jihoon and I have twenty-four a piece, everyone’s sick!” Mingyu says exasperatedly. There had been a swift food poisoning epidemic earlier in the week leaving many men bedridden. It’s like they’re now divided in half. Youngmin would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Jihoon would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Do you think we’ll bring ‘em along tonight?” Mingyu asks, “It’d be perfect…” 

Them?

“I heard they won’t see combat for a while. They’re having… difficulty adjusting.” Hansol frowns. “They stop listening to orders as soon as they see blood. It’s rather inconvenient.”

The topic confuses you, yet you feel as if you’d heard something similar a while ago. Both of the captains hadn’t realized that you’re listening to their conversation. But it’s crucial that you don’t speak up. 

“They’ve gotta be spinning in their graves… Didn’t they choose to do this so they could fight?” 

“Mingyu… You can only say that after someone’s actually dead.”

“I guess you’re right,” the younger of the two captains sighs out, “They aren’t really dead, are they? They’re actually harder to kill now…” 

Now you really know you’re not supposed to be listening to this. To remove yourself from the area, you quickly begin to walk outside of the main hall, but as you open the door, you nearly run into another figure. 

“Huh? What’re you doing here?” Youngmin says as he holds his arms out to steady you as you brake in front of him.

“Oh… I… I couldn’t just sit there…” You explain to him how you feel useless in this situation, that you’d left your room to try and help but found nothing you could do. 

“Of course,” he smiles, trying to comfort you, “I know how you feel! The men are pretty excited, aren’t they?” 

“Yes,” you nod, not knowing if excited was the best term for him to use. Bloodthirsty may have been better. 

“Would you care to join us?” He asks simply. 

“What?!” You sputter out, not expecting him to say that. “You mean go on a raid with you? I don’t think that I could—”

“You see, many of my men are out with food poisoning, so we’re a bit understaffed. We could certainly use a messenger, but if you’d rather not, there’s no need to feel obligated.”

“Well, alright,” you nod, remembering that Youngmin’s group had lost the most men due to the sickness, “if I’ll just be a messenger, it should be okay.” 

His face splits into a grin and you find yourself on the way to Wonweol Inn to accompany their raid.

After you arrived at Wonweol, you were sent off on several short errands nearby. When you return, you hear Junhui talking to Seungkwan. 

“Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot on this one. Not sure if they’re brave, or stupid, for meeting right next to a government building.” Junhui says, glancing at the building next to the Inn.

“I knew they’d be here,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, they’ve had a record of meeting at Wonweol.”

“Sure,” Junhui says, crossing his arms, “but the night Kwanghyeon gets arrested? That just seems sloppy to me. Aren’t they afraid of looking suspicious?” 

“Well obviously they’re somewhat less than normal,” Seungkwan quips, “They are meeting at Wonweol, aren’t they?” 

Their conversation is somewhat lighthearted, which doesn’t quite match the subject matter. As you approach, Soonyoung notices you and jogs over. 

“How’d it go?” He questions, “Did you see anyone from the Guard?”

 You shake your head before answering, “To be honest, I didn’t really see anyone nearby.”

“So, they still haven’t made their move? We told them that we’d be here before dark…” 

“Calm down, Soonyoung,” Junhui says as he walks over, lightly slapping the other on the back, “It won’t do us any good if they show up anyway. If this is gonna happen, we’ve gotta do it ourselves.” 

“I guess… It’s just that running in on our own seems a little reckless?” Soonyoung frowns, and Kangjoon, who’s on standby behind Soonyoung, nods in agreement.

“It is reckless.” He asserts, “We should wait for the Guard’s reinforcements.”

“If you believe that’s the best course of action,” Youngmin cedes, “Then why don’t we wait a little longer.”

Yet, no matter how long you wait, the officials still haven’t made it. 

You find yourself looking up at the sky. The moon inching further across the scape the longer you stay in the recesses of Wonweol.

“It’s getting late…” Junhui murmurs.

“What do you want to do, Chief?” Seungkwan asks Youngmin, “It’d be pretty shitty if we just sat here all night.” 

Youngmin had been quiet all this time, yet when Seungkwan spoke to him, he stood up, ready to address his men.

“We can’t wait a moment longer. Seungkwan, Junhui, Soonyoung: you all, follow me.” 

Seungkwan nods quietly but firmly as Kangjoon speaks up, “I will secure the front entrance so you guys can have at it.” 

“Aren’t you coming?” Soonyoung questions, surprised. 

“It’s all good,” Seungkwan quips, “I mean, we don’t want him in the dark and then mistakenly stabbing us you know? Oh, actually… We may mistakenly stab him.” 

“What are you suggesting, Seungkwan?” Kangjoon frowns as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. 

“Now, now.” Junhui intervenes, “If you want someone charging, we want someone reliable anyways. So, with that said, take care of the outside, Kangjoon.” 

“Can you stay away from the Inn?” Youngmin turns as he asks you, “Things are going to get dangerous. That place is full of rebel soldiers. We don’t intend to allow them to escape, but… better safe than sorry.” 

“Alright,” you say as he smiles at you, motioning for the men to join him in rushing the inn. 

The battle begins in earnest. The yells of men and the clang of swords fills the air soon after the Hwarang make their way inside, the sounds roll out of the doors and windows of the inn. 

You can hear feet pounding up the stairs, the screams of men dying and the wet thud of bodies dropping to the floor. 

“Damn it!” You hear Junhui shout out, “There’s too many of them! We need backup! Is there anyone outside?!” 

There had been moments prior, but all of the men who’d come with the captains had run around back and couldn’t hear Junhui call out. Kangjoon, on the other hand, is stationed outside, arresting any man attempting to flee the building. 

Is the only person left to really help you? Your thoughts interrupted when Youngmin yells out—

“Seungkwan! Are you alright?!”

 “Damn it Soonyoung! Don’t die on me!” Junhui calls out from somewhere else inside the building.

You have no desire to enter a slaughterhouse, with men killing and maiming one another. Even if you do, you have no illusions about your skill with a blade. You’re sure to be killed before you even draw it. 

Perhaps though, instead of fighting, you can rescue the wounded and pull them from the inn. This is how you find yourself drawn closer to the fray, only running inside when you hear Junhui yell out once again. 

Inside, it’s pitch black. The smell of blood hits your stomach like a fist. Black masses lay crumpled on the floor; the bodies of dead or dying men. Where are Seungkwan and Soonyoung? 

Entering the building had seemed a good idea on the outside, but now that you look around the charnel house, you realize that there is no way you can carry two men outside. 

With the fighting going on, and in the darkness too, you’d only be an impediment to the Hwarang should you choose to stumble around blindly in the dark— Looking around the inn, you cannot see a singular face that you recognize. It’s not until an unfamiliar face shouts out at you and raises their blade, do you fully realize the severity of your situation. 

Yet, before the blade meets your flesh, another sword juts out and parries it away from you. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Junhui shouts out to the revivalist, “You’re fighting me!” The Hwarang swings again and ends up burying his sword deep into the man’s stomach. 

Eyes trained on the blood pouring from the wound and now the man’s mouth, you can’t find it within yourself to look away.

“Would you mind checking upstairs?” Junhui asks quickly, his eyes trained on a few more men stumbling into the main room, “No one’ll get past me. I promise!” With that, he pushes past you and heads towards the group of men, your eyes focusing on the bright crimson trailing down his hand from a cut he’d received earlier. “Get going!” He calls out as his blade crashes against another’s.

And so, you do, quickly slipping by the throng of fighting bodies as you travel quickly up the staircase, your feet thudding along the wood. 

The scent of blood has traveled upstairs too, stinging your nose with its metallic tang as you look around the hall. Without another thought, you open the nearest door and run into the room. It seems like this darkened corner of the inn hasn’t been tainted with bloodshed yet, the interior clean and tidy. 

“Pray tell, why are you here?” A voice calls out from the dark and you realize you aren’t alone. At the open window, someone stares off into the darkness, the breeze of the night carrying his voice to you.

He wears no uniform belonging to either the revivalists or the Hwarang, just pale-yellow robes embroidered with a flower you can’t make out in the dark. 

Even as you stand shocked, you have a plethora of questions; Why is he here? What is he doing? Who is he? 

It seems like he hasn’t partaken in the battle, only looking to the streets coated in moonlight as the fighting wages downstairs. He seems calm, almost serene in the way he stands and throws a look back to you. 

“Who are you?” You find yourself asking as his reddened eyes pierce into yours. 

“Are you the one asking questions now?” A small smile dances along his lips as he only replies with a question himself. “Worry about where you are more than you’re worried about me.” 

His words snap you from the tranquility of the moment. Right, he’s an enemy, isn’t he? Instinctively, your hand reaches for the blade at your hip, his brow raising at your movement. 

“Planning on joining the fight?” As his gaze lingers on the steel, his eyes widen, “Wait, is that—?” The man now stands facing you directly, taking a step towards you as his eyes remain fixated on the blade. 

Just then, the door to the room flies open and a bloodied warrior saunters in, looking frantically to the stranger, “Hey, the Hwarang raided—” His report stops when he lays eyes on you, “Who the hell are you?!” Without hesitation, he reaches for his blade after not recognizing you as one of his own, and begins to swing at you. Although, before his blade can reach your head, a loud shout comes from the first man you’d encountered. 

“Quiet!” Almost in a blink of an eye, he’d unsheathed his own sword and charged at the already bloodied man, downing him with a singular strike. Once the man falls to the floor, the closer of the two looks to you, “Didn’t I tell you? You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Why did you…” Your eyes still focused on the man who lays dead or dying at your feet, “Isn’t he your ally?” 

“If he were an ally, I wouldn’t have cut him loose.” His self-possession quiets you as he sheathes his sword.

It’s obvious that he isn’t a member of the Hwarang. You don’t know his purpose here either. 

Above anything, his gaze captures yours, enamoring your senses as if he were the only thing that matters right now. His eyes draw you into a lucid hypnosis, filling you with doubt about if he is a threat to you at all.

“…Thank you,” you’re able to say once you regain a bit of composure. 

A smirk crawls to the corner of his mouth, “Looks like you have some manners despite staying by the Hwarang’s side.” He’s mocking the men that had taken you in, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to argue against what he’s saying. 

“Why did you save me?” Questioning as his gaze falls to the blade at your hip. 

“Does that belong to you?” Ignoring your question, he imposes his own. His eyes glimmer almost burgundy from the silver light of the moon refracting into the room. 

“It does…” your hand now hovers near the blade as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“Then you can thank your blade.” Before you can ask him why, he turns but not before giving you a sly wink. “My business here is done. You can do whatever you want.” He takes his time walking towards the open window, jumping through it without any hesitation or final words. 

Your feet carry you to the window, but there isn’t any sign of the stranger. No footprints, no up kick of dirt—nothing. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t aligned with either side here tonight, so then why had he been at the inn? 

Standing there dumbfounded, you sense a presence entering the room behind you quietly. A prickle on the back of your neck and you slowly wrap your hand around your blade. 

“Are you alright?” The voice of Lee Chan startles you and you spin on your feet. You look at him with a puzzled expression, hadn’t he gone to Jeolin with Jihoon? It’s then your shoulders let go of their tension for a moment, reinforcements had arrived. 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 2𝔫𝔡, 661 - 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court, despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch. 

Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex. 

You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate. 

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?” 

You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.” 

“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, he then pauses, his eyes widening. “You’re…” 

“Huh?” 

As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Jihoon standing in the doorway. He looks from you to the man and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak. 

“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-” 

Before you can finish speaking, the stranger almost gleefully runs to the commander. 

“I knew it!” he says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Jihoon, “It’s me, Seokmin, long time no see!” 

“Y- Wait, Seokmin?” Jihoon looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!” 

A laugh from Seokmin, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.” 

The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs. 

Jihoon doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.” 

“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Seokmin’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol, and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.” 

Jihoon looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Seokmin to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him. 

It was an odd thing to see Jihoon flustered, you’d really only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Seungkwan would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Seokmin’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends? 

Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, can I ask who this is?” 

“Oh, yeah. You two haven’t met, I take it?” Jihoon muses and turns to look at you. 

“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” Seokmin nods, “My name is Lee Seokmin. I’m a Naegeumwi.” 

You introduce yourself quickly. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he smiles and gives you a short bow. 

Jihoon then gazes at the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?” 

As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that is still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods. After you set down the tray, Jihoon tells you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing. 

“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Jihoon asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea. 

“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Seokmin explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you’re unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability. 

Jihoon, glancing at you and seeing your viable confusion, speaks up, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.” 

“Oh wow,” you look at Seokmin, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.” 

“Please,” he says, bowing his head humbly, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.” 

“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Jihoon. While the Hwarang work under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Seokmin works quite literally with the king. 

“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Jihoon asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, so as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Seokmin a Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Lee Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a fairly prestigious school after his time in office, and now Seokmin here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Lee school and that’s how I came to meet him.” 

“That’s right,” Seokmin nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find you.” His eyes shine with admiration towards Jihoon, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lee,” Jihoon sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Seokmin looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Jihoon for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.” 

“I know,” Jihoon’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.” 

“I understand,” the guard agrees. 

The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Seokmin was about to begin teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in. 

“Seokmin!” Junhui says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!” 

“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wen thought he was hallucinating,” Mingyu notes as he greets Seokmin. 

“Junhui, Mingyu,” a smile curling onto Seokmin’s lips as Junhui relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.” 

“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Junhui asks. 

“Don’t be stupid, Wen. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Soonyoung questions as he looks to the guard. 

A breathy chuckle from Seokmin, “It’s… something like that.” 

“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Hansol notes, as he looks at Seokmin. 

Seokmin nods silently to affirm him while Seungkwan speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.” 

“Thank you for the warning,” Seokmin looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Junhui shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit. 

The rest of the captains surround Seokmin for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them. 

“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Jihoon’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.” 

“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Seokmin seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them. 

The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Seokmin notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties. 

“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Seokmin smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway. 

Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Seokmin was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm. 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river. 

Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Jihoon has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Kim Mingyu was about to head out, you decided to tag along. 

You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you. 

“Mingyu?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?” 

“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?” 

“Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more. 

“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Goguryeo last month so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.” 

“So, you’ve become the city guard then?”

“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off of merchants...”

It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Mingyu down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Junhui’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.

“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?” 

“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.” 

“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.” 

“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Junhui seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious. 

“Did you find anything fun, Junhui?” Mingyu questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Junhui flagging you down other than wanting to say hello. 

“Nothing in particular…” Junhui admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.” 

You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements. 

“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things.

“You think they’re worried about the war with Goguryeo or the Baekje guys?” Mingyu asks Junhui, crossing his arms. 

“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Mingyu to Junhui, confusion seeped into your voice. 

The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.” 

“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Mingyu frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.” 

“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Mingyu had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works. 

“Not sure,” Junhui says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.” 

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Mingyu notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain. 

“If the loyalists continue their stunts, then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Junhui sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital. 

“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do. 

“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Junhui shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side. 

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Mingyu nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.” 

You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer wasn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again. 

“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back at Mingyu, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.” 

His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.” 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 18𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp course on your palm. The heat of its contents rises up to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.” 

The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand. 

“Thanks!” Junhui calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.” 

More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Eunseok trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup. 

“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips and blowing on the warm contents. 

“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Seungkwan swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?” 

“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.”

 “Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Soonyoung butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Hansol?” 

“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.” 

It looks as if Soonyoung’s about to speak again before Youngmin barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face. 

“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Sabi. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Youngmin says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks. 

As you scan the faces of the room, there is one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Youngmin finishes. 

“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Jihoon says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.”

Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Jihoon speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go, they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.” 

“Soonyoung and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says after Jihoon’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well.  

“Speak for yourself,” Seungkwan frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…” 

“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Soonyoung points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Kwak’s just being too careful.” 

“Are you being serious?” Mingyu scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it still hurt last night.” 

“You bastard,” Soonyoung pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?”

“Oh, believe me, I do, Kwon.” Mingyu shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation. 

“HEY!” Soonyoung whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Mingyu’s mouth but the other moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Soonyoung then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday. 

“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Soonyoung.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again. 

“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Junhui interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?” 

Even if you said that you’d join Junhui and Mingyu when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them. 

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Youngmin says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Kwak Youngmin was very easily swayed by his men’s words.  

“What?” Soonyoung says, almost confused as he looks from Junhui to Mingyu. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?” 

“You’re still not where you need to be,” Junhui says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them. 

The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations.  

“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Jihoon says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.”  

“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Seungcheol argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.” 

“Seungcheol…” Hansol speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?” 

Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Seungcheol looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain.  

“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale.  

“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Hansol’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.” 

“Great!” Youngmin exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.” 

“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Seungkwan speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.” 

Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you?  

“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 24, 661 - 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 (𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔞𝔢𝔨𝔧𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by, the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be. 

The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the once border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids. 

Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns are unfamiliar and the faces just as so.  

For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Seungkwan and Soonyoung are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Youngmin speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor.  

“My name is Kwak Youngmin, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Kim Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there. 

Kim Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Kim Mingyu and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior. 

The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?” 

“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now; it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek. 

“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Hansol leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.”  

“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking.  

“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Hansol nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.” 

“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission. 

“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Youngmin stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-” 

 “If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Youngmin, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.”

“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Youngmin frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation. 

“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Hansol speaks up, stepping over to Youngmin. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Hansol was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts. 

“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Kim’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.” 

“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Hansol states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.” 

“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.” 

“And I’m the leader,” Youngmin interjects, “Hansol’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.” 

And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time.  

Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Youngmin is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting.  

The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops.  

“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Junhui says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Kimsu’s not a friendly face around here.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Mingyu saddling up beside you. 

“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Mingyu says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.”  

“That and he’s a major prick,” Junhui adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.” 

“Come on you guys,” Youngmin says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line.  

By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Youngmin, Jihoon and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Kimsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do.  

They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Eunseok, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile.  

“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Kimsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.” 

“Why would he do that?” You ask with a tilt of your head. Earlier, Mingyu has said that his and Kimsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies. 

“I don’t know,” Eunseok shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.”

“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Junhui’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle.  

“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Hansol says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.” 

But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else.  

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Mingyu says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment.  

A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious.  

A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock. 

“What was that?” You question Hansol as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp. 

“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” he says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now,  

“Let’s get a move on!” Jihoon shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!” 

“We were told to stay here,” Park Kimsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Jihoon, “You don’t command my men.” 

“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!”  

“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Kimsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang.  

“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Jihoon huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Jihoon, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off.  

“Where are we going?” You whisper to Hansol as Jihoon passes by, muttering something to himself.

 “To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.” 

“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly. 

Jihoon’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Kimsu and Lee Jihoon, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate.  

It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seem to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers.  

Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart.  

Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Jihoon orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Youngmin sighing as he does so. 

“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Hansol returning from his survey of the area.  

“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Jihoon, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.” 

“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Jihoon questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action.  

“They’re still fighting,” Hansol nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Jihoon’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.” 

“Lee!” Mingyu shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.” 

Jihoon’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Kim as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Chan also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress.  

“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.” 

The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Youngmin is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Jihoon to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Kimsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next.  

“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Jihoon’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Kim, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Choi,” he turns to Chan and Hansol, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Kim needs any reinforcements at the pass.” 

There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officers before the commander turns to Youngmin, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Kimsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.” 

While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice. 

“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Youngmin nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Youngmin’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council.  

“Eunseok, can you go with him?” Jihoon asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.” 

“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.”  

Jihoon smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Youngmin, but other than that it’s up to you.” 

You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders.  

“I’ll go with you, then,” you say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Jihoon, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside.  

The groups disperse shortly after, Mingyu and his men heading to the pass, Youngmin and Eunseok leaving for the main camp, Chan and Hansol leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Jihoon and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself.  

Jihoon, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There’s someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter. 

The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen. 

Jihoon, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance. 

“What the hell?!” Junhui shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.

“Commander… He was at Wonweol!” You say, finally realizing where you’d seen this man before.

“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?”

The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now. 

“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Jihoon’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.”

“You’re the swordsman who beat Seungkwan at Wonweol?” Jihoon asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable. 

“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing at the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn; his name is Seungkwan? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.”

You know from watching the men train that Seungkwan is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s?

“Insult Boo all you want,” Junhui stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.” 

“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.” 

You glance at Jihoon and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang.  

“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.”  

A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused.  

“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor.  

“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Jihoon steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!” 

“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Jihoon.  

“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Jihoon argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?” 

“You don’t seem like a coward,” Jihoon states, “So are you ready to accept the consequences of what happens when you kill one of my men?” 

“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?” 

The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Jihoon’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Seungkwan, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch.  

Next to you, you can see Junhui reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Jihoon gain the upper hand. 

“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that.  

Even if Jihoon can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech. 

Junhui turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Lee, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!”  

“Just go already, loudmouth!” Jihoon says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!” 

“Alright!” Junhui calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!” 

The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain. 

The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them. 

“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Jihoon calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.”

 “Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Jihoon’s, the swing causing Jihoon to reel back once receiving it. 

Now that there is more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Junhui and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Jihoon, but relent after a bit, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops.  

“Keep running!” Jihoon calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more.  

“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs. 

You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men and draw your blade instinctively. Knees locking together, your swordsmanship wouldn’t be useful in battle but maybe, just maybe, you can buy the other men some time. 

The next thing you know, a high pitch screech of metal rings out and you’re on the ground. The stranger’s hit had blindsided you, and when your eyes refocus, you see his blade pointing down at you as a trickle of blood runs down your face. 

“That blade…” The stranger murmurs, looking to the steel that had fallen out of your grasp and lay only a foot or two away, “A familiar sight indeed.” Their eyes lock onto yours, “Hey, do you even realize what’s happening? The wound on your face is already starting to heal.” 

Your hand flies to your cheek, fingers brushing over where the cut should have been, but it has already healed. The pain had stopped and the blood had staunched itself. The stranger’s crimson eyes widen.

“Who would’ve thought I’d meet you here. And a female Demon, no less…” His gaze is scrutinizing, “What is your name? And how did you come across this?” 

Before you can answer, a dull clang of metal cries out above you as Jihoon swings his sword from behind while the stranger parries it in front. 

“Get away!” Jihoon shouts out angrily, holding his sword, ready to strike again. 

“Bastard, stay out of my way!” 

“I’m the one you’re fighting!” Jihoon reiterates, “Or do you only prey on the weak? I didn’t take you for a bully.” 

“How dare you, you monarchist dog,” The stranger near growls out as Jihoon looks at you. 

“Go on ahead!” He says and suddenly, energy jolts through you.

You scramble off of the ground reaching for your sword, urgency picking up your feet as you begin to dash away. Even if Jihoon had been there, you don’t think he’d seen your cut heal, at least you hope he hadn’t.

Demon. One of us.

The words of the stranger reverberate around your head as you run, but you can’t dwell on it now as you run to catch up with Junhui and the other men. 

By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison had broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Jihoon hadn’t arrived as the battles waned to a close and the sun began to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Jeon, or Wonwoo as you’ve come to learn. Like Chan, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.”

You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope to see return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky. 

 It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face. 

“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system. 

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Wonwoo says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Jihoon. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.” 

In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face. 

“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.”

“Who was he?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head slightly. 

“His name is Hong Jisoo. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.” 

“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?” 

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Jihoon sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must have meant something to them.” 

“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Wonwoo muses. 

“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Jihoon says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.” 

Before Jihoon can ramble and rant about Jisoo, Junhui and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Junhui stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards.

 “We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Junhui’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict.  

“Honorable suicide, then?” Jihoon nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.”

 “Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them. 

“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.” 

“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey.  

His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.” 

Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning.  

The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops. 

And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn:  

Hong Jisoo, who had defeated Seungkwan at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Jihoon. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang. 

Hwan Minhyun, the man who had injured Soonyoung at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Hong Jisoo. 

And then there was Xu Minghao, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance.  

Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies.  

The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labeling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 8𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry.  

The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Soonyoung, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits.  

The burning sun hits your face as Youngmin and you see Soonyoung off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior.  

“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!” 

“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

 “Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Youngmin notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.” 

“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Youngmin, “I remember you mentioning someone once.” 

“Oh, did we not tell you?” Youngmin sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.”  

“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Soonyoung relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.” 

“That’s all we need,” Youngmin nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the younger Hwarang.  

“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Soonyoung then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!”

“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Youngmin, the more melancholy you feel. Youngmin looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?” 

“Of course, seeing our numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” he says as Soonyoung finally disappears outside of the main entrance.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Time passes quickly after Soonyoung’s departure. So fast that the date of Youngmin’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him.

 “Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?” 

“I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Soonyoung alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?” 

“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Soonyoung’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Youngmin is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Soonyoung’s departure.

 “It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Jihoon will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Youngmin probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Soonyoung’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you. 

Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Youngmin looks at you now with a sad, small smile.  

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?” 

“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

 “Are you sure?” Youngmin pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something. 

“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?” 

“Are you-?” Youngmin’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?”

 “I am,” you nod quickly.

 “Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.” 

“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words.  

“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?” 

“If I’m going to help watch over Shoshin while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.” 

Youngmin chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.” 

“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. 

Youngmin mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.” 

The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Youngmin’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin.  

“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Kwak school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.”  

“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you. 

“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?” 

“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly.  

“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.” 

With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction.  

“Too weak!” Youngmin shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.” 

“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl. 

“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Youngmin had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you. 

“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you. 

Youngmin looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!”

 “I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.”  

“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.” 

“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet. 

“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Eunseok all attended my family’s school. Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu joined us afterwards, Hansol never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.” 

The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Youngmin’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Lee Alcheon had done. 

“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud. 

“It was,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment.  

“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Youngmin says, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.” 

His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”

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' NOT ON PRIV ' | boo seungkwan

synopsis : the one where university student council president yn tweets their support for badminton varsity player boo seungkwan <3 genre/s : smau, university au, pure fluff, gn!reader

from reese, with love <3 told u i was gonna do a quick au lmao racket boys!seungkwan i will never forget u :>> thanks for reading, how are we feeling about these quick one-shot smaus- i'd love to hear your feedback hehe hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself ! :D

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