' MOVE FAST, KEEP QUIET ' | Y. Jeonghan

' 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 !

office hours — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, nonidol!au ♡ wc: ~6.2k ♡ warnings: swearing, smut, reader is gender neutral but wears a skirt, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, petnames (f. receiving - baby), fluff at the end if you squint ♡ a/n: this whole thing is a highly self-indulgent fic so if reader is down horrendous for bsk… u know why

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

You fucking hate Tuesdays. 

There’s nothing actually wrong with your Tuesday schedule - on the contrary it’s probably the best day of the week in terms of lectures and extracurriculars. Your first class of the day, Developmental Psychology, doesn’t start til 11am, so you get to sleep in - always a win in your book. Afterwards you have an hour and a half break, usually spent by eating lunch in the student center and then a visit to the campus library to get some studying done. Then your 2pm Discussion for your Intro to Fiction class, followed by yoga at the gym - and since your work-study job at the Cognitive Research Lab doesn’t have you scheduled for Tuesdays, you get to go home right after. All in all, a pretty laid-back day in your hectic college life.

Except for that stupid 2pm Discussion. 

As a Psychology major you didn’t anticipate having to take any Literature courses, but you needed to fill an elective and Intro to Fiction had a reputation for being a fun, low-stakes course. It also fit conveniently into your Fall Semester schedule, so you signed up. Professor Mendoza turned out to be super nice and never gives any bullshit extra homework, and the assigned books have been surprisingly enjoyable. No, none of that is the problem. 

The problem is the hot TA you’ve inadvertently fallen in love with. 

Your first encounter with Seungkwan had been a bit embarrassing - the first week of the semester you somehow went to the completely wrong building, and even with speed walking you arrived to Discussion about five minutes late. You tried to sneak in quietly but the loud, creaky door hinge had other plans. Twenty-some pairs of eyes turned to stare at the idiot latecomer, but the pair you locked onto were the soft brown ones surrounded by long dark eyelashes, belonging to the blazer-wearing grad student standing at the front of the classroom. 

You would’ve been embarrassed in this situation anyway, but the unexpected eye contact made your stomach drop and your face turn hot. You stood there for a few moments too long, before muttering a feeble “sorry” under your breath as you made your way to the only empty seat in the room - which of course was located at the very front, immediately before the TA. You quickly took your seat and pulled out a notebook (not even the right one, but you were too frazzled to notice). The TA, whose name you missed due to being late, resumed his lecture. You started writing down everything he was saying - definitely not necessary, but you were doing your best to focus without looking up. 

Your face eventually stopped burning up, but this classroom was particularly warm and stuffy. You set down your pen and took your cardigan off, hanging it over the back of the chair. Mindlessly looking up, you look at the TA for the first time since sitting down. He too had discarded his outerwear - the muted brown herringbone blazer now laying aside on the teacher’s desk upon which he was leaning. His dark brown shoes matched his dark pants - which weren’t tight but certainly hugged his thighs nicely, but you tried not to think about that - and he was currently rolling up the sleeves of his medium gray button down - and you definitely tried not to think about that. You put your head back down and focused on your note-taking, transcribing everything without actually processing any of what he said. This was all very strange for you - sure some of your past TAs had been nice looking, but why was this particular one making you this flustered? 

The clock ticked on at an unbearably slow pace. You took your notes and paid no attention, not joining in on the conversation even once. You just have to make it through the hour, you kept telling yourself. But the hour seemed to never end. 

You snap out of it as the TA finally wraps up the class. 

“Don’t forget to read through chapter 5,” he reminds everyone. You realize you don’t even know which book you’re supposed to be reading, but it’s too late to ask now - you’ve looked like enough of a fool today already. Quickly packing your bag, you try to make your escape but as you are heading toward the door the TA calls out to you. Shit.  

“I just need to get your name - for attendance,” he tells you as you turn back around. 

“Oh… yeah,” you reply. You silently curse yourself for how stupid you sound. You tell him your name and he makes note of your attendance in his notes. You try to escape again but not before he sticks his hand out to you. 

“Seungkwan,” he introduces himself. You make the mistake of looking into those big round doe eyes again. He was even more beautiful up close. SHIT. 

You shake his hand, trying to do so as quickly as possible, but he has a very strong grip. 

“Nice to have you in class,” he says warmly. 

“Nicetomeetyoutoo!” you reply, taking your hand back and turning to dart out the door before he can get another word in. 

You don’t look back, so you don’t see how his eyes are glued to you as you hurriedly exit the classroom. 

—

You thought after a few classes you’d get over your dumb little crush on your TA, but four weeks into the semester and it’s only gotten worse. Now that you know where the stupid building is, you always make sure to arrive to Discussion early so you can snag a seat in the very back - as far away from him as you can manage - but this only allows your mind to wander. Watching him from the back of the class, you’ve unintentionally memorized his subtle habits: the way he takes his glasses case out of his bag at the beginning of each class, opening it and wiping the lenses clean with a cloth before placing them on his face with two hands, delicately moving his hair off to the side as not to obscure his vision; the way he leans against the desk, resting his weight on his palms as he listens to the students engage in conversation about the current book; the way he holds his well-worn copy in his left hand when referencing the text, flipping through the dog-eared pages filled with highlights and notes written in ink in the margins, laying the book on the desk pages-down to preserve his place when he goes to write important points on the chalkboard; the way he carefully erases the board as not to create a cloud of dust, wiping his hands together away from his body as not to get chalk on his perfectly pressed clothes; the way he focuses so intently when somebody is speaking, maintaining eye contact and nodding his head slightly, giving them his full attention.

That last one is why you never say a word in that class. You’re pretty sure you would combust on the spot.

Unfortunately, your entire grade for the Discussion portion of the course is based on actually engaging in the discussion - and based on your participation thus far you were right on track for getting an entire zero. I’ll say something next week, you tell yourself - then next week rolls around and you don’t say a damn thing. And repeat. You just hope Seungkwan doesn’t say anything to you. 

But he does. 

You freeze upon hearing your name as you’re gathering your belongings at the end of session. You look up and meet his gaze, doing your best to maintain a relaxed demeanor. It’s only a little eye contact, just chill. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” you respond nonchalantly. He gives you a bit of an inquisitive look, so you add on a polite smile.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t participated at all during discussion so far - you know that’s what I have to grade you on, right?”

“Oh yeah, um- I’ve been… I’ll work on that.”

The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. “I graded your first essay - you showed exemplary comprehension and your analysis was one of the best ones I’ve read.”

You feel your stomach do a flip. The sudden praise caught you off guard. 

“Oh uh, thank you,” you stammer, trying not to display how flustered you are but undoubtedly failing. 

You make the mistake (again) of making direct eye contact with Seungkwan. It lasts maybe two seconds, but feels like time has slowed; the world has stopped; nothing matters but you and him, standing alone in this room together. You’ve never wanted to impulsively kiss somebody this bad in your life. 

You force yourself back to reality. 

Seungkwan continues. “But, if you’re having some trouble with this particular novel,” he says as he holds up his book, “you can always stop by my office hours with any questions.”

You glance at his copy of Dracula. It’s a standard size paperback, but it looks small in his hand - a hand so strong and defined, yet elegant, fingers long and graceful…

Nope. Not gonna think about that right now. 

“I hold them every Thursday from 3-5pm - in this building, room 430. Top floor - all the way at the end of the hallway.” 

You nod - looking at him without making direct eye contact. “Cool cool. I’ll uh… Thanks, I might take you up on that.”

“Of course,” he replies matter-of-factly. He pauses, then adds with a slight smile, “It is my job after all.” 

Picking up his coat, he heads toward the door, and you follow. He holds the door open for you; as you pass by him you catch the scent of his cologne: woody but fresh, notes of patchouli and bergamot. You utter a soft “Thank you”. He nods chivalrously. 

Exiting the discussion room, he starts heading in the opposite direction as you. “See ya around!” you blurt out suddenly. He pauses - turning over his shoulder, he nods once more at you. “Have a good one,” he responds cordially. Maybe you’re seeing things, but his eyes seem to linger on you for a split second longer than one would expect. 

You watch him walk away for as long as you can get away with without being detected. 

As you make your way to the gym you ruminate over what he told you. Office hours. You didn’t really see a need to go - you weren’t actually having any trouble with the book. And of course office hours are open to all students, but the chance that you might be alone in a room with him again, having a one-on-one conversation…

You try to push the thought aside. You arrive to yoga, prepared to clear your head - but you spend the whole class thinking about Seungkwan. You head home after class, sitting on the bus with your headphones in, blasting your favorite album - but still your mind dwells on your TA. You get home and sit down to continue the novel, reading the next chapter - but you quickly give up. You’re absorbing none of the story, so you’d have to reread it anyway. 

Maybe you will go to office hours after all. 

—

Thursday. You’ve been trying not to think about Seungkwan’s office hours, but of course it’s just the white bear experiment all over again - the harder you tried, the more you ended up thinking about it. Your last class - Statistics - ends at 3:30pm, so you have all day to debate whether to go or not. Damn him for holding them so late in the day. 

Your Stats professor could not be a more uninteresting lecturer if he tried. You spend most of the class stifling your yawns as you do your best to pay attention, to no avail. Finally, the clock hits 3:30 and class is dismissed. You have to make your decision now - so naturally you end up going to the library to procrastinate said decision and mull it over some more. 

After many wasted minutes trying (and failing) to get some homework done, you check the time: 4:19pm. With a sigh you open up your book to leaf through the pages, looking for something you could make up some bullshit question about. Nothing. Mildly peeved, you open your laptop and pull up trusty sparknotes.com. All the discussion questions seem too juvenile, and you’re pretty sure you’d manage to make a fool of yourself if you tried to ask a question you already knew the answer to. 

You decide to abandon your plan to drop by with specific questions and instead just hope and pray there will be other students there so you can simply join in on their conversations. If there aren’t… you’ll just have to figure that out when you get there. 

You make your way to the Literature Studies building, realizing upon your arrival there is no elevator - and your destination is on the top floor. Cursing the building for being old, you trek up the stairs in search of room 430, which - as he mentioned - appears to be at the very end of the hallway. Nearly there, you abruptly decide to backtrack to the restroom you passed to check yourself in the mirror real quick, which turns out to be a mistake because now you’re hyperaware of how anxious (and for some reason, frumpy) you look right now. Nice going you idiot. 

Doing your best to make yourself presentable, you tussle your hair a bit and fix the collar of your shirt back to its proper position. You decide it’s good enough and go to exit the bathroom, pausing when you remember that you have a tinted lip balm you threw in your bag last minute. Rummaging through your bag for a solid 20 seconds, you find the tube at the very bottom and hastily apply it to your lips. Taking a step back, you take a final glance at your reflection - the balm is neutral-colored and fairly subtle, but makes you look slightly less dead. You’ll take the W. 

You make your way back down the hallway toward room 430. Approaching the end of the hall, you hear voices engaged in conversation. You pull out your phone to quickly check the time: 22 minutes of office hours remaining. Good enough, I guess. You’re three steps away from the doorway when you hear a familiar voice chime in - a voice soft and soothing, confident without being cocky. You proceed to enter the office before you have a chance to process how it’s making you feel. 

You find yourself in a room small yet cozy - bookshelves built into the wall that go all the way up to the ceiling, stacked with endless literature: many classics you’ve heard of, many others you haven’t. There’s no overhead lighting, but two antique-ish looking floor lamps illuminate the room with a warm-toned glow. An old, large mahogany desk fills nearly half the room, its accompanying chair vacant. Two fellow classmates are seated in the two smaller chairs facing the dark leather loveseat upon which your TA is currently sitting - reclined, one leg over the other knee, hand on the open book laying face down on the couch next to him. The three faces turn to look at you as you enter, bringing their conversation to a halt. You fucking hate being collectively perceived in any circumstance, but something about the intimacy of the room makes this particular situation even worse than usual. You feel your face start to turn warm but you quickly shove the embarrassment back down. Not today. 

Seungkwan greets you amiably, your name sounding sweet in his mellow voice. “Glad you could make it! Come on in, have a seat.” He picks up the paperback by his side and sets it on his lap, motioning for you to sit next to him. 

Right. Next. To. Him. 

Ignoring the million panic alarms going off in your head, you force a small smile and take your seat. The couch is even smaller than it seemed - there’s maybe two feet between you and him. You’re greeted with the inviting scent of his cologne. 

The two students resume their discussion. You sit there mostly in silence, nodding along, trying not to fixate on Seungkwan’s closeness. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than that - like, really hard.

The twenty-ish minutes pass rather quickly, and the conversation that you’ve contributed nothing to starts to wrap up. The two other students begin packing their bags. You pull out your phone to check the time - 4:57pm. A sense of relief washes over you as you’ll be forced to leave now - no more sitting there anxiously not knowing what to say - but you’re also feeling a little sulky about leaving so soon. You politely say goodbye back to your classmates, who are already on their way out the door. You go to put on your jacket only to discover you never took it off (no wonder it felt so warm in here). Grabbing your book and tossing it in your backpack, you hurry to leave as well before you manage to do or say something to embarrass yourself. 

“Bye! Thank you!” you say cheerily as you step out the door.

“Y/n?”

You stop in your tracks. You turn around to face Seungkwan, who is still sitting on the couch, reclined, with his arm now laying across the back where you just were. That makes you feel a lot of things, which you promptly ignore.

“Yeah?” you reply, hoping a smile will cover your nervousness.

“I believe you took my book.”

You stand there for a moment, confused, before you realize you never took your own copy out. The one you hastily threw into your bag was his. So much for not embarrassing yourself.

“Oh my god I’m SO sorry!!” you blurt out, swinging your backpack around and hurrying to retrieve it.

“It’s alright,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I did set it right next to you.”

You grab his copy out of your bag and hold it out to him sheepishly. He stands up and takes the book in his hand, his fingers brushing yours slightly. You’ve never been electrocuted, but you’re pretty sure what just jolted through your body was a similar sensation.

“Did you have any questions about the book?” he asks before you can bolt out the door. “You didn’t say much in our discussion today-” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he gently puts his hand up to stop you. “I just want to make sure I can help you if you came here with something specific in mind.” 

“Oh, um…” You hesitate, fiddling with your coat sleeve. You decide to tell the truth.  

“Honestly, not really. I kinda just came here to get an idea of how I can participate during class. Cuz, y’know. Don’t really want a zero.”

Seungkwan nods. “Your essays have been very good, I know you’re a highly capable student.” 

You try not to blush. You know he’s just talking about your coursework, but accepting compliments is not your forté. 

“I’m just… not a literature student, so I’m not used to taking classes like these. I guess I just get a little nervous that I’m gonna say something stupid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him all this. 

“As long as you’ve read and understood the text, you won’t sound stupid - I promise.” 

You look down at the floor. Maybe these are normal things for TAs to say to students, but the fact that you’re kind of in love with him is not helping right now. 

“Besides,” he continues, “I’m the one grading you. I assure you you’ll get a good grade as long as you participate.”

“Well, that’s good news,” you say with a contented smile. You do feel reassured by his words. “Thanks again,” you say, as you turn to leave. 

“Oh, and y/n?”

You lock eyes with him, a recurring habit you seem to be unable to quit. 

“If you ever can’t make my office hours, feel free to email me. I’m sure we can find another time to meet one-on-one.”

One-on-one???

“Oh cool, I… appreciate that.” Does he say that to all his students?? He must, right? Don’t be delusional…

He nods courteously. “See you in class.”

“You too!” you add brightly as you finally head out the door. This time you do look back to see him still looking at you, with an ambiguous look on his face that you cannot decipher.

For the rest of the week, for once, you find yourself looking forward to Tuesday.

—

Tuesday. You resume your usual very-back-of-the-room spot for Discussion - but this time you finally engage in the class’ conversation. You still feel kinda dumb about it, but your TA’s promise of giving you a good grade so long as you participate sticks with you. Besides, who gives a shit what the other students think of you. There is only one person in that room whose opinion you care about, and you seem to have his approval, for reasons unclear to you. Maybe you are just a decent student. But the fact that there’s maybe something else there… You don’t let yourself develop delusions of grandeur, but there’s no crime in being cautiously optimistic. 

On Thursday you find yourself back at office hours, this time arriving a bit earlier - though much to your chagrin the two other students from last time are there again. You’re not sure exactly what you were hoping for if it was just you alone, especially considering you still don’t have any specific questions about the book, but you were kind of hoping it would happen anyway. But alas, you partake in office hours with company. You actually find yourself enjoying these literary discussions a bit, now that you (sort of) know how to engage with them properly.

And so you become a regular at Seungkwan’s office hours - Thursday afternoons quickly becoming the highlight of your week. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens between you two - and there’s always other students there whenever you attend - but you don’t see any harm in enjoying your time spent with him. 

Per usual, though, as finals approach more and more students start attending as well. One week you show up at 3pm sharp, only to find five students already there asking questions about their essays. You acknowledge that it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he does seem genuinely pleased to see you - pausing his conversation briefly to greet you, your name spoken warmly with a smile on his face. You make a mental note that he doesn’t greet anyone else who enters by name.

Seungkwan maintains a very patient and polite composure, but you get the sense that he is rather irked at the several students who are more or less trying to get him to write part of their essays for them. You chat for a few minutes with a friendly classmate you’ve become acquainted with, but ultimately you both give up on trying to talk to the TA and decide to leave. You sneak a quick glance back as you exit, catching Seungkwan’s eye right before you’re out of his line of sight. Though perhaps you weren’t so sneaky, because once you’re in the hallway your classmate nudges you with her elbow and teases, “Ooooh you have a crush on him don’t you?”

You scoff. “Oh please.”

“No seriously, he looked like a sad puppy seeing you go. You should ask him out.”

You roll your eyes and give her a “Yeah, right,” before casually changing the subject. But her comment sticks with you, and for days your mind keeps coming back to it. You’re hesitant to jump to conclusions, but the fact that she noticed it too… Perhaps you will shoot your shot after all. 

—

Taking advantage of the fact that you didn’t get a chance to speak with him during his regular office hours, you decide to take Seungkwan up on his offer. You did rewrite the email about 15 times, erase it repeatedly, and almost give up entirely, but in the end you came up with a message you deemed solidly good enough:

Hi Seungkwan, I was wondering if you have any availability to meet to discuss the current essay. I have a few questions that I feel would be easier to convey in person. I understand finals are a very busy time though, so if you aren’t available I completely understand. Thank you.

You hit send at 11:57pm on Sunday night, so you figure you’ll get a response the next morning. Before you can even close your laptop, you get an email notification.

Hi y/n, I’d be happy to meet with you. Are you available Tuesday evening after 6pm? I apologize for the odd hours, but that would be the most ideal time for me. However, if that does not work for you I’m sure we can figure something out.  Seungkwan

You sit and stare at your screen rereading it for a good five minutes. You hit the reply button.

Sure, that works for me! Thank you - I really appreciate it.

The light ping of a notification returns within seconds.

Of course, y/n. See you then.

You shut your laptop, your hand resting on top of it as your mind races, rapidly cycling between excited and anxious. You keep telling yourself to lower your expectations: you’re simply meeting with your TA to discuss your essay - which, you don’t actually have any questions about, so now you’ll have to make some shit up. But that can be a tomorrow problem. Tonight, you go to bed, half-coherent thoughts of literature, exams, and a certain pair of soft brown eyes floating around in your mind as you drift off to sleep. 

—

You wake up on Tuesday and immediately enter into panic mode. You can’t seem to focus on anything other than your date meeting with Seungkwan later - which of course you expected, but it’s pretty inconvenient considering you have so much to do with finals rapidly drawing near. Your Discussion class is finished for the semester, so you won’t be seeing him until evening - you’re not sure if this makes things better or worse, but it is what it is. You spend the entire afternoon in the library, sitting amongst the stacks, sort of studying but mostly doing a whole fucking lot of daydreaming instead.

After several hours of minimal productivity, you check the time: 5:36pm. You feel your heart start to beat faster. Since you’re clearly not going to get anything else done, you pack up your belongings and make your way to the Literature building. Might as well get there a little early.

You climb the four flights of stairs to the top floor, the building strangely empty. Making your way down to the very end of the hallway you wonder if Seungkwan will even be there yet or if you’ve arrived early for nothing - but as you approach you notice the door is ajar, the unexpected sound of alt rock music greeting your ears. You knock lightly on the doorframe as you poke your head into the office. Seungkwan, seated behind the large mahogany desk, seemingly absorbed in something on his laptop, looks up - you’ve clearly caught him a bit off guard.

“Hi, sorry - I’m a little early,” you apologize.

His face lights up in a warm smile. “No, uh - that’s alright!” he replies cheerfully. “Go ahead, take a seat,” he says as he gestures to the couch. 

You plop your backpack down on the ground and remove your coat, carefully tucking your skirt (a rare choice of clothing for you, but you figured fuck it, why not) under yourself as you take a seat on the comfy sofa. Seungkwan turns the music down to a faintly audible volume and rises from his desk chair, making his way over to you. You expected him to sit in the armchair across from you, but he comes and joins you on the couch instead. You can practically hear the rapid thumpthumpthumpthump of your heartbeat. 

“So, tell me about your essay,” he starts. His eyes linger on yours.  “What did you have questions about?”

Nonchalantly taking a deep breath, you take out your laptop and open it, pulling up your draft file. You basically had your paper planned out already, but you made up some questions to ask so as not to give away the fact that you literally had no academic reason to be here. You begin to explain your first question, which turns out to be an extremely difficult feat with him not only sitting so close to you, but also gazing at you softly, listening intently. You decide to avoid eye contact almost entirely. 

You chat about your essay topic for what feels like an eternity (you glance at the clock on your computer - it’s been 14 minutes). You’re in the middle of discussing the second point of your thesis when he interjects.

“Y/n, why are you really here?”

You feel the blood drain from your face. He’s onto me. It’s over.

“It’s very clear that you understand the book perfectly well. I really don’t think you need my help.”

You slowly look up at him, hesitating before opening your mouth to try and bullshit some response, but nothing comes out. 

“You know, I don’t normally schedule one-on-one office hours with students outside of my usual times.”

The blood comes rushing back to your cheeks. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“I’msosorry,” you blurt out. “I really wasn’t trying to waste your time I-”

“That’s not what I mean, y/n.”

You freeze. Does he mean…

Before you can even finish that thought he kisses you.

His hand cradles your face gently, drawing you closer to him as he presses his lips onto yours, electricity pulsing through your entire body - all you can think about is the way his lips feel, the way he softly brushes your cheek with his thumb, the way you want to throw your laptop across the room and throw yourself onto him so you can kiss him even more. 

As if he read your mind, he reaches down (still kissing you) and closes your laptop, picking it up and setting it aside carefully. You lap now vacant, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his, his soft kiss becoming more fervent. Your hand rests on his chest as you kiss him back - you feel the energy of his heart beating, at the same pace as yours, through the cozy sweater he has on. After several seconds (minutes? hours?) his lips part from yours, the sudden lack of sensation leaving you immediately longing for more; they linger mere inches from your face as your eyes meet his sensuous gaze. 

“Just one second,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper.

Seungkwan gets up and swiftly shuts the door - you hear the deep, satisfying thunk of the old door closing, followed by the subtle click of the lock. He then walks over to the desk to turn the music up to a decent volume before making his way back over to the couch. He barely resumes his seat before grasping onto you desperately, his face buried as he begins to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh at the unexpected sensation, wrapping your arms around his torso and drawing him in even tighter. His large hands caress your back as if trying to commit your shape to memory, as your hand slowly makes its way down his side - stopping when you reach his belt, resting on the waistline of his jeans which are very obviously becoming tighter by the second. 

You hesitate at first, but eventually your hand continues downward; Seungkwan sharply inhales as it lands on his growing bulge, his body tensing up against yours. He pulls his face from the crook of your neck, his lips immediately finding yours again, indulging in another kiss as he pulls you over onto his lap. You begin making out with him, your hand holding his warm, flushed cheek; your core, now exposed aside from the barrier of your underwear, presses against the hardness in his pants, causing soft moans to escape from the both of you. Before long, your hips begin to rock back and forth, grinding on his clothed cock - lightly at first, but with increasing intensity. You break away from his kiss; he looks at you, his eyelids heavy.

“Y/n…” he breathes out as he starts to kiss you again, “you don’t know how… wanted you so bad…”

“Me too,” you mutter.

He slides his hand under your skirt, finding your clit and beginning to circle it gently through your soaked underwear, causing you to whine softly.

“Oh fuck, you’re so wet,” he says in a low, husky voice, his fingertips increasing their pace against the sensitive bud. He then slips his finger under the hem of your panties, pulling them aside to expose your already-swollen cunt, the sharpness of the cool air hitting its wetness. You cry out as he slides one finger into you, followed by another, his thumb continuing to caress your clit. Your hips begin to rock again, fucking yourself against his perfectly-curled fingers that are hitting you in all the right spots, your speed quickly increasing with the overwhelming pleasure that has taken over your entire body. You feel it welling in your stomach, your orgasm growing nearer with each movement. You’re about to lose it when he slows your pace, looking at you with lust-filled eyes - you can tell what it is he wants. 

You reach down and undo his belt, unfastening his button and drawing down the zipper. His jeans out of the way, you pull the band of his underwear down, freeing his hardened cock - he lets out a groan as you begin to stroke its length. Precum has already begun to form, your fingers taking the wetness and gliding it over the head. 

“Please… wanna fuck you so bad…” He’s practically whimpering at this point.

You slide your pussy up and down his length a few times, causing him to recline his head against the couch as he breathes heavily. Finally you take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and lowering yourself onto him, crying out at the sudden sensation of fullness. He groans as you slowly begin to ride him, his length hitting you in the perfect spot; you have to bite your lip to control yourself from becoming too loud - it feels even better than you’d ever imagined.

You begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as the sensation in your stomach begins to build again, even stronger now with him inside you. Your cries involuntarily become louder, prompting him to place his other hand over your mouth.

“Shhh, baby - don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You nod, tears welling in your eyes.

His soft grunts become more frequent - you can tell he’s getting close. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as you’re also nearing orgasm. He drops his hand from your mouth so he can grab onto your hips with both hands, holding you tight as he thrusts into you, full of vigor. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he says, his voice low and gruff.

“Want you to cum in me,” you reply breathily. He nods eagerly. You’re nearly there yourself. You cling to his face, giving him one more kiss before you can’t hold it in any longer.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you manage to get out before the white-hot sensation takes over your whole body. You cry out, your walls clenching around him, immediately sending him over the edge - his cock pulses as you feel his cum release inside you. 

As you come down from your high your body melts into his as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. He plants a few soft kisses on your cheek as you sink into him, his cock still inside you. You lay there peacefully for an unknown amount of minutes, the rock music still playing in the background as he rubs your back gently. Eventually you sit up, pressing your nose against his.

“Does this mean I get an A?” you ask jokingly.

He laughs, his nose crinkling as he smiles. “You were going to get one anyway, I assure you the fact that I just had the best sex of my life will have no impact on your grade.”

You break out into laughter. You pause, then ask hesitantly, “Soooo, what does this mean?”

His brown eyes rest on yours. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to figure that out later,” he says pragmatically. A slight tinge of sadness comes across your face, but before you can say anything he continues.

“How does tonight over dinner sound?”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“I think that sounds perfect.”

[end]

---

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.

---

ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.    

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.    

Cold.    

Lonely.    

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.    

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged. 

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage. 

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge. 

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present. 

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes." 

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand. 

Was that love? 

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice. 

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes." 

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed. 

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption. 

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his. 

And still, he waits. 

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?" 

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright." 

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too." 

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to." 

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself. 

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him. 

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips 

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳

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, hong jisoo, xu minghao, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, major character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 18k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔳 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦

January 3rd, 665 – Seorabeol, Kingdom of Silla

Just before the year ends, it’s decided that Seungkwan’s condition had worsened and he’d contracted both what your father had once called phthisis. The disease isn’t uncommon, but it is incurable. You’d had suspicions that he had contracted phthisis when he’d first began to lose strength, but never wanted to admit to such a devastating thing. The entirety of the Hwarang are shaken by the news.

It’s come to pass that he and Youngmin are to be sent to Daegaya, where Namekawa Yasuo can look over them as they receive treatment.

Despite them leaving, Seorabeol is still on high alert. The Hwarang remain on standby at Kim Seokmin’s residence as the year begins to shift to the next. Your hope that the thoughts of war would wane lasts only three days into the new year.

A coalition of soldiers claiming to be from Baekje invaded a town on the western front of where the Baekje-Silla border once was. Violence broke out and suddenly, the war had begun. Groups of these revivalists began to spring up in the kingdom as well, the closest having come to burn down Kim Seokmin’s residence late at night. For now, the only option for you is to retreat from the heart of the capital.

Your feet slap the road as you race through the emptied streets, only pausing to catch your breath as your partner stops beside you.

“Are you alright?” Eunseok asks, sounding almost as out of breath as you, “We can stop if we need to.”

“We can’t afford to do that,” you shake your head at him, “I’ll be alright.” Wiping the sweat from your brow, you take a deep breath and urge your aching feet to move once more. Under Jihoon’s orders, the two of you are to make your way to Hwaseong, a temple that lies some ways away from the outskirts of the city’s domain. The Hwarang had been dispatched to roam the outside of the city, looking for traitors as the Silla army began to make their way to protect the king.

“I know this isn’t going as planned,” Eunseok says as the two of you begin to pick up pace, “Commander Lee admitted as such…” To have Jihoon admit to anything near defeat is startling to hear, but the raid on Kim Seokmin’s residence had shaken the Hwarang more than any Demon attack had. “I’ve never been as good with a sword as the rest of the men,” the captain offers a small smile, “But I can aid the Hwarang in other ways.”

It took several hours to reach Hwaseong, Jihoon’s hope is to use this place as the Hwarang’s new station, where he could station his men and launch attacks.

“Why are the gates closed…?” An uncomfortable silence encapsulates the area, there aren’t any other people here.

Suddenly a whir of wind passes by you both, an arrow sinking into the ground behind you. Eunseok immediately grabs your wrist and drags you into the tree line beyond the temple’s entrance.

“They’re shooting at us? I thought they were supposed to be friendly—” You say as Eunseok lets go of you, looking at the walls of Hwaseong.

“Either the loyalists have already taken over or they’ve been against us all along…” He murmurs as to not draw any attention, “We need to get back to the other captains.”

“But the Commander said to—”

Eunseok merely shakes his head, “It’s clear by now that this place is hostile towards us. It won’t do us any good to stay around it any longer.”

“But if we leave what’ll happen to everyone else?” Your gaze looks back to the temple, “If we say that it’s orders from Commander Lee…”

You’d never seen Eunseok look this serious before. “I want to help him as much as you do, but my job isn’t merely to ask for aid. It’s to protect you as well. If something happens to you now then I will have failed him twice, come on.”

His hand finds your shoulder after a moment of silence, his expression softens, and he gently urges you, “I’m sure the Commander will come through with one of his brilliant plans. But if we’re to see it, we’ll need to be alive. The men will be worried if we don’t head back soon.”

By the time the two of you near the Hwarang’s encampment on the outskirts of the city, you notice that something feels… wrong.

“Aren’t we supposed to meet the others here?” You ask, looking around the empty clearing, void of any sign that the Hwarang had been here. “Did we get lost?”

“No,” Eunseok shakes his head, but his voice sounds uneasy, “It should just be up ahead.”

As you round the clearing, you spot something on the ground. “Eunseok! There’s someone over there!”

“That’s impossible—there’s no way the rebels would’ve gotten this far already…” He says as the two of you near the body. He wears the blues of the Hwarang, and looking up from him at the path ahead, you see even more scattered along the road.

Standing in the middle of the carnage is a face you dread to see.

“I was wondering why these men looked so familiar…” Specks of blood litter the light-yellow robes of the perpetrator as his eyes fall onto you. “You’re here after all.” Jisoo’s smile is cruel and mocking.

You—!” Too furious to speak, you glare at the Demon.

“To see that Hwaseong turned on you… Maybe following your tedious politics paid off.” He muses, shaking his head, “But I never thought I’d find you among the wreckage.” Once again glancing at the bodies, “I thought they’d provide some entertainment until you came back, but they weren’t skilled enough.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eunseok’s balled fists shaking with rage. Most of the men on the ground were members of his own division.

“I was… distracted the last I saw you,” Jisoo frowns in your direction, “But this time you’ll leave with me.” You know that neither you or Eunseok could face him and win, but maybe if you go with him he’ll spare Eunseok’s life…

A hand placed in front of you as Eunseok steps forward, his other hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. “Stay back,” his voice calm as he looks at Jisoo.

Anxiousness rising, “What are you doing, Eunseok?”

“You’ll have to run for it,” he says apologetically, unsheathing his sword, “Get back to Shoji and tell the Commander… Tell him that I’m sorry and that I hope he forgives me for not being able to walk alongside him to the end.”

“No.” You say as you realize that Eunseok doesn’t intend to return to the headquarters with you, “I can’t leave you here to die!” Hand finding the sleeve on his robes, you clench to it tightly, “If I go with him then you can live!”

The smile on his lips is bitter, “Are you suggesting that I use a girl as a shield so I can escape? I’d never be able to call myself a Hwarang again.” He then shrugs off your grip, turning to face Jisoo, his hands tightening around the grip of his blade.

“Eunseok you don’t have to do this,” you plead, but he doesn’t move an inch, “Run!”

“Are you done saying goodbye yet?” Jisoo sighs out from the other end of the clearing, “I’ll give you a chance to listen to her, go on, run.” His hand flicks towards the direction of the city as he stands there.

Eunseok says nothing but charges at the Demon, his sword arcing towards the unarmed man. Jisoo’s sword unsheathes from its scabbard, too fast for you to witness him doing it, and the tip of the blade emerges from Eunseok’s back. A grunt and blood begins to bubble from the captain’s lips.

“Eunseok!” The cry rips from your throat as he falls to his knees, a deep red stain blooming from his wound.

Jisoo looks down to the Hwarang, leaning down to whisper something, “The men that I killed are yours, aren’t they? Don’t you want revenge? I understand that warriors put great stock in avenging their fallen comrades.”

The Hwarang looks up to him angrily, white-hot rage running through him. His shaking hand reaches into the depths of his robes, bringing out a small vial.

“Pimul,” Jisoo scoffs as Eunseok attempts to bring the unopened vial to his lips, “Pathetic.” Before the captain can drink the serum, Jisoo’s blade rises once more, slashing against Eunseok’s chest as sunlight glimmers off of the blade. The vial drops to the ground, cracking and leaking the red contents into the soil.

Eunseok falls forward, his hands finding the ground as he turns to look at you, red streaking from his lips as he pushes himself back to his knees weakly, “Run!”

Your feet scramble atop the loose dirt as you begin to turn as Jisoo speaks again, “You’re by far the weakest human I’ve fought. The Hwarang would allow someone like you among their ranks?” Something within you snaps, and you look back to Jisoo just as he cuts across Eunseok’s abdomen once more. Eunseok falls without a sound to the grass.

“Eunseok… Eunseok!” Even as a part of you screams at you to run, you find yourself scrambling to the fallen captain, grabbing for his hand. A friend that has become something like a brother to you, he can’t hear you cry out for him, or feel your hand encasing his. He had joined his men among the corpses littering the ground.

“Now that that’s dealt with,” Jisoo says as he stands above you, still on your knees next to Eunseok’s body, “Come with me.”

Seeing Eunseok’s lifeless body and hearing Jisoo’s cold and callous words makes fire bubble inside of you, shattering your heart as you look up angrily to the Demon. Hand grabbing desperately for the blade at your side, you rise to your feet and ready yourself to lunge at the man.

“I thought you were smarter…” He huffs, “Your time with humans has made you weak.”

“Shut up!” Burning tears trail down the sides of your face, vision blurring as you blink to look at him clearly.

“Does it bother you that I killed him? A human foolish enough to challenge a Demon, what else would have happened?”

“Shut up, shut UP!” You’ve never yelled at someone as angrily as you are now, but you’ve also never been angry enough to try and kill someone until now. “I’ll never be able to forgive you for what you’ve done!” Grip tightened on your blade, you rush forward towards Jisoo, only seeing white.

The man easily parries your attack, your sword flying from your grasp. You hunch down to reach for it, but before you can, Jisoo’s foot comes down on your arm, pining it to the ground. Pain shoots up your limb and you cry out, his gaze meeting yours, his aura radiating an abrasive arrogance.

“Even now you refuse to listen,” you feel the coolness of his blade against your throat.

“If you’re just going to treat me like an animal I should just bite off my own tongue and drown in my own blood,” you spit up angrily at him, knowing full well that there isn’t any other chance for you to escape any more.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to do that. And I also don’t care for people who can’t follow orders.” The moment you hear the voice coming from the opposite end of the clearing, your head clears.

“Jihoon!” His name rolls from your lips in a moment of relief, forgetting for a moment the blade pressed to your neck.

“I had a feeling you were in trouble but…” His eyes scan the scene, looking at the fallen men. His face falls at the sight of Eunseok’s body beside you, expression twisting with grief and regret. Jihoon’s hand reaches for his sword, pulling it from his scabbard as he looks to Jisoo with a renewed rage. The wind whispers around the blade as he marches towards the two of you.

“Another human with a death wish,” Jisoo sighs, the blade at your throat lowering as he watches the commander stride over. “It’s strange to me that you’d want to throw your life away like him… Anyway, let’s get this over with.”

“Throw his life away?” Jihoon nearly shouts, “How dare you say that he threw his life away!” In a wordless fury, he throws himself at the Demon, with all of his weight he strikes at Jisoo’s neck.

Jisoo flicks his sword up to deflect Jihoon’s with a small grunt, and for a moment the two look evenly matched. The Demon is thrown back, his feet sliding on the ground as he stops himself and glares at Jihoon.

“What?” The words fall from him without thought, as if this is the first time a human opponent has overpowered him. Jihoon sees this and doesn’t let the opening go to waste, he pushes himself towards the other again, sword hissing through the air with fervent fury.

The two are thrown back once more, Jihoon catches his breath as a small transformation overcomes Jisoo. His hair turns stark white, not unlike that of the Hwarang’s Furies, and his eyes turn golden.

“The moment your eyes behold a true Demon is the moment of your death,” Jisoo’s voice is low as he speaks to Jihoon. And with those words, the battle changes. The Demon’s sword slices and cuts through the air with ease not found in the moments prior, the only thing Jihoon can do is anticipate and block the attacks, unable to land any offensive blow of his own.

“What happened to your fire?” Jisoo quips, landing another series of blows to Jihoon’s blade.

“Damn it—” Jihoon grunts out, losing his breath with each block of his blade. All Jisoo has to do is tire out the commander and their fight would end. One particular blow sends Jihoon’s sword flying from his grasp, and you instinctively grab your own blade and run towards Jisoo, not wanting him to strike Jihoon.

“…Stay out of my way,” Jisoo pushes you aside and you fear to look in Jihoon’s direction just as you’d done with Eunseok, not wanting to see his body crumple too. He raises his sword and looks to Jihoon, “This is the end for you. Humans always seem to fight the battles they cannot win. That’s recklessness, not courage.”

As Jisoo monologues, Jihoon drags himself to his blade.

“Trying to run?” The Demon asks as the commander clutches his blade’s handle. With the last bit of strength left within him, he rises to his feet to face his foe. “I’ve made a fool of you and yet you refuse to acknowledge the difference between us.”

Jihoon stays silent at the verbal attack, quietly reaching into his robes for something. A small vial filled with red liquid.

“How far do you mean to take this idiocy?” Jisoo spits as he spots the pimul.

“Like I give a shit what you say, we were always a pack of idiots.” His voice weakened from the fight, “We shared an idiot’s dream that we were all too stubborn to give up on. We’re halfway up the hill, stumble now and we’ll have lost all we worked for.”

“Even if you become a Fury, you’ll be nothing more than a faded reflection of a true Demon,” Jisoo says, hand still holding his blade.

“You never know until you try—” The commander lifts the bottle to his lips and drinks. It only takes a few moments for the serum to take effect, Jihoon’s hair turning stark white and his eyes turning a deep crimson.

“I’ve had enough of these fucking loyalists and I’m sick of you goddamn Demons,” Jihoon’s voice is low as he looks towards Jisoo, a bitter edge to his voice, “So I’m not a real Demon? Why should I care? I was never treated like a real warrior until the Hwarang, never loved like a real son.” Eyes burning with anger as he sighs out, “Hell… Where are you supposed to find good men these days? Everyone’s too invested in their own business to care about anyone else. Try to make a difference and they’ll cut you down, I say bullshit to that!” Jihoon’s words aren’t only for Jisoo, but for Eunseok, for the counselors who opt against the Hwarang and the loyalists who infringe upon the borders of Silla.

“I believe what I believe, and I will never back down from that.” His head shakes, “Call us fake if it makes you feel better, but if we push hard enough, we’ll become what we say we are.” The predatory grin on Jihoon’s face is inhuman, “If we beat you, we become real Demons, right?”

The commander strikes forward, lunging at Jisoo with a speed akin to his. Jihoon had been beyond skilled as a human, as a Fury, though… The two clash swords once again, neither relenting in their strikes, taking no chance for the other to gain the upper hand.

“Where’s your gloating now?” Jihoon asks through clenched teeth, clearly realizing that he’s gained the advantage of superior strength. Jisoo’s sword rebounds from one of Jihoon’s strikes and he’s forced back, Jihoon leaps for the opening, aiming for the Demon.

It’s too fast for you to witness, but Jihoon’s blade grazes Jisoo’s cheek, a thin trail of blood seeping from the opening before it begins to heal immediately. The Demon jumps back, surprised at the injury as his hand raises to touch the wound.

“You look like a warrior now,” Jihoon scoffs, “How’s it feel to get cut by a fake?”

Jisoo doesn’t seem to hear Jihoon, entranced by the crimson ichor that stains his fingers. “Damn you…” Although the wound had healed, the ramifications of it had not. “Fake, how dare you draw my blood?” It must’ve been the first time he was injured by a human. His preternatural face distorts into rage and disgust. “I will never forgive you for this. I will strip you for everything that you are so that you understand true pain!”

“And the real Jisoo’s revealed,” Jihoon shakes his head, almost mocking the other, “I dare you to kill me.”

Their swords once again clash, ringing out into the woods. Jisoo fights with a newfound angst, veins on Jihoon’s neck and forehead begin to strain as he defends himself from the Demon’s blows.

“Damn you, damn you, damn you!” With each phrase, another blow from Jisoo onto Jihoon’s blade. “How dare you draw my blood?!” He’s gone mad with rage, eyes widened and bloodshot as he stares down Jihoon.

“I’ll never forgive you,” Jihoon’s blade chips with each of his own strikes, you fear that it will break under the strength of the two men, “you arrogant son of a bitch! You’re going to hell even if I have to drag you there myself!”

They leap at each other like enraged animals, blows flying so quickly you’re not sure how to tell the ones meant to block or attack apart. It’s clear that the battle would end only when one of them was dead, but it’s rapidly becoming apparent that Jihoon is fighting in a way that puts him at a disadvantage.

Prior to this, Jihoon had fought with calmness, even in the heat of battle. But that had fled with his humanity. You need to stop them before Jihoon loses himself entirely.

“What’s going on here?” A voice shouts from behind you, followed by the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. “The commander left to see how things had gone at Hwaseong and we haven’t seen him since. Have you seen him?”

“Chan…” His name leaves you tiredly, “He’s fighting Jisoo.”

The officer stares at you for a moment before looking past you to the fight raging on. His eyes widening in shock, “That white haired Demon is… Is that a Fury? Oh my god,” he says at the realization of who it is.

“He drank the pimul,” you say and watch as Jihoon is disarmed by Jisoo, his blade clattering to the ground as the captain lands with a thud on his side.

“I am impressed that you lasted so long,” Jisoo says as he inches closer to the commander, who moves away from the Demon. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that I don’t intend to simply kill you. You’ll die, eventually, but not before I’ve inflicted all the pain I can imagine onto you.” As the advantage returns to his favor, his calm returns. “I’ll send your head back to your beloved Hwarang when I’m done, they deserve to see you at your best, after all.”

Jisoo lifts his blade, the steel clean and undamaged. Your eyes close as a horrible, wet sound rings around the clearing. Opening your eyes, blood had splattered across Jisoo’s yellow robes, but Jihoon remains unharmed. Chan kneels at the feet of the two combatants, a large gash running along his robes, blood beginning to stain the cloth.

“What are you doing, Commander?!” His voice weakened and strained, “Running off to face the enemy alone…?”

“Chan what are you…?” The commander’s speech falters as Chan gives him a small smile, his eyes shining as you’d seen them do when he and Jihoon had discussed important secrets.

“You can lose an arm or a leg, but if you lose your head you lose everything.” With that he goes limp, his body falling to the ground as blood begins to pool at his side.

You find yourself rushing to the scene, calling out to the fallen officer. The death of yet another comrade seems to pull Jihoon from his hysteria, brow contorting in bereavement.

“Chan… why…?” His hair slowly begins to shift back to its original color, the white darkens as he blinks back tears.

“Lee?! Chan?! Eunseok?!” Another voice from the depths of the woods calls out, sounding like Junhui, “Where are you guys?!”

“Damn it,” Jisoo says, his blade lowering, “There are more of you still…”

A figure in the trees emerging, but not a Hwarang. Hwan Minhyun steps forward as if to warn Jisoo to not strike again. “This will only lead to more unneeded casualties if we stay.”

“Am I supposed to let this fake go free?” Jisoo nearly spits as he looks at Jihoon.

“It would be enough to soothe your anger, sure.” A glance towards the commander, “But he’s wanted alive. For now, at least.”

Jisoo lets out a groan of frustration as he angrily sheaths his sword, understanding that it’s pointless to argue with him. “Lee Jihoon… I won’t forget your name.” He and Jihoon glare at each other with such hatred you feel as if they’d strike out yet again. Then Jisoo spins on his heels and follows Minhyun into the forest.

“There you are—” Junhui, Hansol and Mingyu break through the tree line and rush over to you. “What the hell happened here?”

“There’s dead men everywhere,” Mingyu notes, looking at the bodies, “Did you all run into loyalists? No… those blade marks…”

“Can someone attend to Chan?” Jihoon says, shakily rising to his feet, “He may still be alive.”

“What?!” Junhui says, spotting the officer’s body on the ground. “Hold on Chan,” the captain says as he begins to move to the younger “hang in there for me!”

“What’ll happen to him? Don’t tell me—” Mingyu begins as he looks over the wounds and then to you. The blade had sunk deep and you hazard a guess as to what’ll become of him.

“Don’t tell me he’s…” Junhui frowns, glancing at the body he’s trying to prop up.

“Does anyone have any cloth?” You ask, moving to kneel by Chan. “We need water and alcohol as well…”

“Here,” Mingyu shrugs off the white jacket he’d been wearing over his robes and hands it to you.

“There’s a stream nearby, I’ll go and retrieve some water.” Hansol nods.

“I’ll leave Chan to you!” Junhui says and begins to run towards the city, hopefully in search of some gokaju.

“Commander… what happened here?” Hansol questions Jihoon quietly.

Although the commander doesn’t seem to hear him, muttering to himself, “I never thought that I would sacrifice my own men so that I could survive…”

“Sacrifice?”

Jihoon looks at one of the bodies on the field, “Eunseok’s body is over there… Can you help me bury him?” He frowns and bites back against the bitter sting of tears, “His men too… It’s cold this time of year; we can’t leave them out to freeze.” You know that he wants to break down and cry more than anyone else here, easily seen in the way he struggles to grin and joke.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you bury your face into your hands and begin to sob. Eunseok had given his life to save yours, Jihoon had become a Fury to fight the Demon chasing you across Seorabeol, and Chan had been mortally wounded trying to protect Jihoon. How are you to atone for all of this?

The night of the initial attacks, Seungcheol leads his Fury Corps in a retaliatory raid. During the night, it was harder to fight an opponent who could see clearly, and the Furies capitalized on this. And it did, at first, being more successful in deterring the loyalists than they had planned. But then arrows and blades began to pierce and cut differently, the metal different from that of normal weaponry. With the situation becoming more and more dire, it seems as if most of the Hwarang allies will succumb to the loyalist and Goguryeo effort.

When dawn breaks, you awake to different news. King Munmu had sent a request to Tang in the weeks prior to the Baekje attacks, asking for aid. And during the night it looked as if the call had been answered, swaths of Tang soldiers encircling the city and pushing back the enemy forces.

Buyeo Pung is captured in this effort, but not killed. Like his father and his elder brother, he is meant to be exiled to Tang, with no chance of ever returning the kingdoms again. This diplomatic decision agreed upon by Gaozong and Munmu sates the Baekje rebellion for now, but their attention now turns towards a new common threat, the ones that had housed Pung: King Bojang and the rest of Goguryeo.

January 4th, 665 – Shoji Temple, Kingdom of Silla

“… What’s the sense in building a place this big?” Mingyu frowns as the Hwarang enter the temple, lamenting the building’s structure as it isn’t aiding their effort to find help. Him and Junhui hold up a pallid Chan, who’s shallow breathing hadn’t gotten any better during the trip here. “Namekawa said he’d be returning to Seorabeol today,” he mentions, “I plan on finding him and bringing him here.”

“Go ahead,” Jihoon nods as the pair take Chan inside.

Chan had been bleeding and groaning in pain as you’d brought him here, with the severity of his wounds you don’t see him lasting much longer. You’re also worried about Jihoon, now that he’s a Fury, being in the sunlight doesn’t bode well for him.

“Are you feeling alright Commander?” You ask and look at him.

“Surprised to see a Fury in the sunlight?”

“That’s not what I—” you mumble, “I was wondering if anything has changed.”

“Not yet,” he crosses his arms and shakes his head, “Although pretty soon it’ll probably be painful for me to even look at the sun. Might as well enjoy it while I can.”

Even if he’s joking, it makes you feel bad. As if he can tell, he speaks up again, “I’m not sure what self-deprecating tirade you’re conjuring, but the only person who made the decision to drink that stuff was me. I’ve ordered enough men to take that shit so I couldn’t chicken out when it was my turn, could I?” He offers you a smile, “I figured it would happen sooner or later.”

Even if he’s trying to assuage all of your guilt, you can’t take him at his word. He looks somewhat relieved when you look at him.

“Did something good just happen?”

The commander glances back to Shoji and laughs, “Isn’t it obvious? We have big things ahead of us. As long as we remain here, we won’t be able to lose. Maybe I’ll even get revenge on the bastards who tried to burn us alive.” The man you’d watch fight Jisoo seems to be gone, Jihoon’s face now looks determined, not driven by a maddening fury.

“Commander! There you are,” Jeon Wonwoo barrels in through the front gates of the compound, out of breath and panting.

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon asks, his brow furrowing.

“We’ve been… We’ve been ordered to Ungjin.” Jeon looks as if he’s about to keel over as he reaches into his robes to procure a document bearing the royal seal.

“Ungjin? The Baekje city?” Jihoon asks as he reaches for the parchment, “Are we not meant to stay here and keep the peace while Munmu sends his soldiers off to Goguryeo?”

Wonwoo hesitates and you surmise that it’s from reluctance, not confusion. “Munmu’s going as well… to meet with Tang advisors…”

For a moment, Jihoon stands there stunned. When he speaks, his voice is low, “What do you mean by that? Is he so eager to sell our support?”

“To be honest… I’m not sure. There have been people saying he’s meant to meet with Tang advisors over the next course of action with Goguryeo but—” Wonwoo doesn’t look pleased either.

“Damn it,” Jihoon’s fists clench angrily at his sides, “It was stupid of me to think that the fighting was over. There’s always another bastard out there for us to fight.”

January 31st, 665 – Somewhere near Sangju, Kingdom of Silla

With the aid of the Tang, Silla becomes somewhat indebted to Gaozong after the threat of Buyeo Pung is quelled. The Tang emperor quickly sets his sights on his long-term enemy, Goguryeo, and demands that Silla involve themselves to diminish their debt. As Silla and its leaders leave for Ungjin to speak with Tang ambassadors, the Hwarang find themselves swept away by the current of a larger, more looming conflict.

During the travel across Silla, you and Namekawa take turns caring for Chan as you walk with the caravan of Hwarang.

From the makeshift cot at the campsite for the night, Chan calls out to you, his voice hoarse and tired.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, saddling over to his bedside, “Does something hurt?”

“No…” a shake of his head, “I… T-There’s something that I’d like… to tell the commander…” Each breath seems like a struggle for him, “Can you… call him for me?”

For him to ask for Jihoon must mean that he knows he’s not got long left, it makes your stomach sink, but you nod your head quickly. “Just wait a moment…” You hurry from the tent and race to Jihoon, quickly asking for him to accompany you and returning to the medical tent as soon as possible.

“Chan,” your voice soft, “I brought him.”

“Thank you,” the officer’s smile weak as Jihoon walks to the bedside. His face pale, the color drained long ago, it’s heart wrenchingly clear his end draws near. Cold sweat beads at his forehead as he begins to speak quietly, “I-I’m sorry that I won’t be there for you.”

“What are you saying? If you have the energy to apologize, just focus on getting better.” Despite the harsh tone, Jihoon sounds as if he knows that Chan is dying. Yet maybe that’s why he’s still speaking normally to the officer.

“You let me… join you all even though…” Every breath ragged, every syllable sounding as if it’s a needle stabbing him, “I was never a noble, my father’s an acupuncturist… You’re letting me die a warrior all because of the Hwarang…”

“If you force yourself it’ll only hurt more,” Jihoon’s voice is low as he sits by Chan.

The officer looks to you, “Please take care of the Commander from now on… Stay by his side and help the Hwarang rise to their full potential…” Watching this is almost too much for you to bear, you can’t find the words to respond immediately.

“Say something,” Jihoon urges after a moment of silence.

Tears well in your eyes as you respond, “Just rest, Chan…”

After a while, the officer closes his eyes, breaths becoming shallow as they slowly stop, his body becoming limp. Calling his name elicits no response and you realize that he’s gone.

“At least it was peaceful…” Jihoon says as he looks down to Chan, “Almost as if he’s sleeping.”

Your knees hit the ground as the tears stream down your face.

His burial is held the next morning, the captains mourning the loss of their fallen comrade. There isn’t any way to mark his grave, just a shallow pit in the ground that he’d remain in for the rest of time.

“You alright, Youngmin?” Jihoon asks as the chief staggers over, worry tinging in his voice.

“I’m okay…” Youngmin frowns as he looks as Chan's body, encased in a shroud, is lowered into the grave. “Lee Chan was an integral part of the Hwarang. For him to leave us like this… It fills me with unimaginable sorrow. He was selfless beyond belief and I think all of us can learn from that.” The chief speaks out to the captains, you can see tears pricking at his eyes as he speaks but holds them back momentarily. “I’d like to celebrate his life, his work and his ambition… Goodbye, Chan. I pray that you watch over us proudly from wherever you are.”

“Damn you Chan,” Junhui sniffles out as several men begin to cover the grave, “How dare you die on me.”

“I’m sure he wanted this less than anyone else…” Mingyu frowns.

“I know that!” Junhui bites. Most of the men aren’t displaying their grief for the others to see, but many had tears welling in their eyes. You can assume they allow themselves their own private grief when they’re alone.

That night you cannot find it within yourself to sleep soundly as your mind is focused on Chan. You slip from your tent, intent on walking to clear your mind, when you see Jihoon standing at the edge of the encampment.

“Oh,” he says as you approach, twigs snapping under your footsteps as you near, “It’s you. Is something wrong? You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep…” You sigh, “What about you?”

“…Same.” He offers a small smile as you recall his disposition.

“Ah, right…” With all that’s happened in the past few days, you’re sure that he needs time to process it on his own. His eyes travel up, to watch the stars breaking through the trees, like the ghost of the daylight haunting him from above. From the east, the pale fingers of sunlight begin to break over the horizon.

“I know you’re handling a lot right now…” Jihoon starts, looking back to you, “But they say it isn’t good for women to be out in the cold for too long, right?”

“I’ll head back inside soon.” You nod, and the conversation ends there. For a moment, you listen to the sounds of nature, of the wind whistling through the trees and the birds beginning to wake from slumber. Even with the minor distractions, you can’t help but think of those that were lost in the skirmishes.

“Until now,” Jihoon breaks the silence, “I always felt like I was trying to fight an uphill battle by trying to assert myself as a true noble, a true warrior… Never once did I ever think that the path I chose was the wrong one. Eunseok, Chan… I’m sure everyone else who died felt the same way.” His voice sounds strained as he tries to reason with his thoughts, “That’s just a more reason for us to go on, to live in their honor and fulfill what they would expect from us.”

The commander looks to the eastern sky, to the beams of light trickling to dissolve the black of night. As you watch his determination return, you feel compelled to speak,

“I need to tell you something.” You take a deep breath in, “Eunseok wanted me to tell you something before he died. He said he wanted to apologize for not being able to walk alongside you to the end. He didn’t have the words to thank you properly enough for it…” As you speak, you find your voice getting caught in your throat, choking back a cry from escaping your chest.

Jihoon stays silent and then lets out a short chuckle, “… Dammit Eunseok… What’s with the vagary? ‘Thank you’ for giving him a chance?” His voice lowers to an almost whisper, “We should be the ones thanking him.”

Without a word, the two of you watch the sun slowly rise over the horizon, its orange glow bursting into bloom once the tip of the sun breeches the skyline.

“Maybe it’s because I’m a Fury now,” Jihoon sighs out, “but that damn sun is really stinging my eyes… As soon as we get to Ungjin, we’re going to regroup and avenge Chan and Eunseok. Everyone that’s wronged us will know us, I swear it.” His face is almost gallant in the light of the new dawn, you can’t look away. His resolution to the fallen and resolution to the future is nothing short of inspiring, it gives you something to pull yourself out of the grief of battle.

 June 7, 665 – Seonggwa Inn, Ungjin, Kingdom of Silla

By the time that the Hwarang finish following King Munmu of Silla to Ungjin, they find themselves holed up in Seonggwa Inn, a relatively spacious lodging, as their king speaks of a treaty between his kingdom and the Tang. With each day, the Hwarang hope that the potential of invading Goguryeo due to their aiding and abetting with the now quelled Baekje forces becomes a reality.

Silla hadn’t lost the conflict with Baekje, without the aid of the Tang the story would be entirely different though. Yet, with their aid, it had begun to expose several rifts in both the Crown and the Hwarang in favor for or against the additional help.

 The recent attack on Youngmin’s life, as well as Seungkwan’s illness, has confined both of them to staying with Doctor Namekawa Yasuo to treat them. So, while they don’t remain at the newest Hwarang headquarters, they still reside within Ungjin. Although present in spirit, some of the men have begun to notice their rather large absences…

“He’s probably just run off to not have to deal with this shit,” one of the warriors guffaws at the thought of Youngmin not returning. A few others around him return the sentiment.

“He’d never do that,” a serious voice responds, and you turn to see Junghwan looking angrily at the group, “All of you are complaining instead of focusing on the work we have ahead of us.”

Normally such insubordination from a lower wang-do was met with harsh consequences, yet things had changed since coming to Ungjin.

“You all have too much to talk about, go sharpen your swords or train,” Junhui adds to Junghwan’s proclamation.

With grumbled acceptance, several of the Hwarang run off.

“I can see where they’re coming from… They’re tired, I suppose,” Mingyu huffs out, shaking his head as he watches the other scurry away. “We’ve been sitting here without orders for weeks.”

“True, but I mean… What else are we going to do while Munmu’s off kissing up to the Tang?” Junhui frowns, moving his head from side to side to crack his joints.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Mingyu retorts, “These men were ready to die for him not too long ago, I’m pretty sure they just want to run out the loyalists and Goguryeo soldiers just like we do.”

“So…” Junghwan murmurs, “What’s going to happen now?

“Youngmin’s stuck in bed. Even if we wanted to run after the traitors, we’re not going to be able to touch them if we leave too late,” Junhui sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Future’s looking pretty dark if we’re looking north… Maybe we oughta head to Jinro-dong again…”

“Jinro-dong?” Mingyu’s brow furrows at the mention of the nightlife district, “Really? In a time like this?”

“Of course you idiot,” Junhui scoffs, “Times like this are when we need to party hard! Gotta lift our spirits somehow!”

“Huh,” Dohoon, who’d been standing in the courtyard along you all quietly, asks, “Does anyone know where Hansol is? I haven’t seen him around lately…”

“He’s off helping Namekawa,” Mingyu explains, “We still have a lot of injured men after the last fight.”

You frown, not saying anything. Memories of the peaceful times back in Seorabeol are like a candle flickering in the wind, one breath away from turning it all into smoke. Sometimes you have to ask yourself if they really had happened at all.

June 18, 665 – Ungjin, Kingdom of Silla

When you hear footsteps walking up the entranceway of the inn, you think it’s just another Hwarang returning from town until…

“Hello,” a soft voice greets, “It’s been a while.”

“Oh,” Your eyes widen upon looking up from your work and finding Lee Seokmin standing before you. “Seokmin… What brings you here?”

“I've come to discuss a few important matters with Jihoon, would you mind taking me to him?” He asks as his shoe slowly taps at the gravelly rocks underfoot.

Sometime after you lead him to the Commander’s quarters, murmurs of conversation suddenly become exclamation.

“Are you sure?!” Jihoon says angrily as you peer into the room.

“Yes,” Seokmin nods solemnly, eyes trained on the floor, “Supposedly, an urgent matter has arisen, meaning he cannot meet with us.”

“… No.” Jihoon frowns as he shakes his head, “We need to talk to him. I don’t care how. If we don’t, we’re stuck here. I’ll go.” And with that, he storms towards you, toward the exit. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he goes, only looking as pensive as ever as he leaves the compound.

“Did something happen?” You ask Seokmin, who’s gaze had risen to watch the Hwarang leave.  

“Jihoon had planned to meet with a member of the king’s council today, but I’d been informed that the man hadn’t planned on showing up, so I came to notify him.” Seokmin explains quickly.

The Commander has been attempting to gather council support to try and speed up the process of invasion, however their unwillingness to try and sway the king’s favor has led to them not entertaining Jihoon’s initiative.

“Do you think they’re just waiting until Tang makes a call?” You question timidly.

“Whatever the case, the King has instructed me to not make any rash decisions,” Seokmin hums, “Honestly, in times like these, I am a little envious of Jihoon as he can do as he pleases… Anyway, I’ll be heading out now. Please send my regards to everyone.”

“Oh, of course!” You say as you begin to walk with him towards the entrance. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t offer you more courtesy while you were here.”

Shortly after Seokmin leaves the inn, a familiar figure approaches you to ask a question.

“Is the Commander inside?” Wonwoo says as you stop outside the front door.

“Ah,” you shake your head, “You’ve just missed him, he’s stepped out for the time being… Did you have business with him?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Wow, ever since we’ve gotten here, he’s been working non-stop.

“I know… I seriously wonder how he finds the time to sleep, if at all.” As far as you know, Jihoon should be suffering in agonizing pain during the daytime due to his condition as a Fury. However, seeing him work as tirelessly as he does, one would have no clue of his affliction at all.

“Are you okay, Wonwoo? You look a bit more gaunt than usual…”

“Ah… Well… Ever since Chan passed away, I’ve had a lot more work to do.” Wonwoo smiles sadly, “But he left it to me, and I’ll be damned if I dishonor his memory by messing it up. And seeing how far the Commander’s pushing himself for us, it wouldn’t feel right if I just sat around here all day, you know?”

“I see…” You know exactly how he feels, yet he’s actually in a position to contribute. Unlike Wonwoo, there is nothing you can do for Jihoon, even though you yearn to be involved and do whatever you can to help.

“Well,” Wonwoo nods briefly, “I’ve got plenty more to do, so I’ll be on my way.”

“Of course, please be careful.”

“By the way,” he’d begun walking before stopping himself, “There've been a lot of killers on the street recently, looking to test their swords on a living body. Don’t travel alone, okay?”

Later that night, you’re waiting in the empty common room for the captains to return, sitting idly as your fingers tap atop the table you’re seated at when Kwon Soonyoung comes strolling into the room.

“Evening!” He greets cheerily, moving to come over and sit beside you.

“Hey Soonyoung,” you say politely, peering around him to see if anyone else has followed in behind him. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Junhui and Mingyu took the men to Jinro-dong, and, if you can believe it, they left me behind to house-sit.” He sighs out, resting his head on his chin, “I’m not their servant, you know. They can’t keep giving me this kind of bitch work… Well, I guess it’s nice that they’re acting like usual. To me, I mean. Like nothing ever changed.” His laugh sounds small in the empty hall.

“That reminds me, do you know where Seungcheol is?” You tilt your head inquisitively as you ask. “Did he go out somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung sits up, nodding his head, “He went out on patrol.”

“Patrol?” You furrow your brow, “But we’re not in Seorabeol any more… No one’s asked us to keep peace in Ungjin…”

His face grows solemn, as if he’s quietly searching for words. “… He’s been acting weird lately. Like, today, soon as the sun went down, he said he was going on patrol. I asked if he wanted me to go with him but he said he’d be just fine on his own.”

“I’ve heard that there’s been a lot of killings at night recently, maybe he’s going out to try to learn about who or what’s causing it?” Seungcheol may not have the same authority here that they had in Seorabeol, but they do still work for the Crown. Perhaps Seungcheol’s just trying to protect Ungjin, regardless if he was asked to or not.

“…Well, if that’s the deal, then good.” Soonyoung doesn’t sound fully convinced.

Just then, the door opens once more and Jihoon comes inside quietly.

“Good evening, Commander,” you greet him with a small smile.

“You’re still up?” His face is pale, but his tone is sharp. As you watch him, you can see that it looks as if he’s struggling to stand. He shakes slightly as he moves, and you get the feeling that if he were to let his concentration slip, he’d just simply collapse on the floor in front of you.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You already know his answer, but you can’t help but to ask.

“No,” he shakes his head, “Just stay put, and stop thinking about that.”

Even though everyone else is working themselves thin, barely sleeping or eating, all you can do is sit around, useless.

“Hey… Don’t give me that look,” he says, noting your expression.

“I’m sorry!” You say quickly, only realizing after you’d spoken that you’ve only made things worse. And apologizing makes you sound all the more miserable.

Jihoon nearly chuckles, “You don’t need to worry about us. Just… go make some tea, alright? Your tea isn’t that bad, I guess.”

“Okay!” You rise to your feet, “I’ll be right back.” Your feet carry you to the kitchen, a slight smile curving along your lips.

You return to the common room some minutes later, a tray with three cups atop it, along with the hot teapot steaming into the night.

“I couldn’t find any yakgwa to go with it… but I was able to sneak a few of Youngmin’s old snacks…” You say as you set the tray atop the table.

“It’s alright,” Jihoon sighs, now sitting down at the table. “I have to get back to work as soon as I drink this anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Soonyoung frowns worriedly, “You’re a Fury now. You should be sleeping during the day and working at night.”

Jihoon doesn’t answer, just chooses to sip at his tea for a long drawn-out moment. “When we were leaving Daegaya, Youngmin said something to me. He said that if he were the King, even if he only had two hundred men, he would continue to push forward for the legacy of our Kingdom, and if he failed? Gut himself like an honorable warrior.” He huffs out a short laugh, “Now he’s stuck in bed, shot in the shoulder. He’d die for any one of us, and we all know it. Sure, I feel like shit, but that doesn’t mean I get to rest.”

The prospect of handing over a fully-functioning Hwarang back to his friend brings a gleam to his eyes. If the rest of the men are worried because their leader has been wounded by a coward's arrow… Jihoon is buoyed by the fact that Youngmin is still alive, and that he has the courage to do what other leaders will not. He finishes his tea quickly, returning to his room with only perfunctory thanks.

Yesterday, his light had stayed on late into the night. Today, you’re sure, will likely be no different.

“I’ve got an anxious feeling about what’s ahead…” Soonyoung says after Jihoon’s left, “He’s a Fury, but it doesn’t look as if he’s started to feel the bloodlust yet.”

“Bloodlust?”

“When you become a Fury… Something happens to you and, well, sometimes you really, really want to drink blood. Like, you need to,” he explains slowly, “It hurts, and not like how it hurts when Kim shoves a practice sword into your gut. You want to die, just because that’ll make the pain stop.”

Your mouth hangs open. Jihoon already looks terrible, if unbearable pain is suddenly added to his already long list of burdens… “Is there any way to do anything about it?”

“Well, if you drink some blood, then it goes away almost immediately, but… only for a while.” Soonyoung sighs out, “And the longer you go, the more painful it gets. At first you only need a little blood to feel better, but after a while you need more. And pretty soon you’ll need a whole lot before you feel better again.”

You sit there at a loss for words. Furies truly do seem like the monsters from legends.

“What about you, Soonyoung? Are you…?”

“Come on,” he closes his eyes, unable to look at you, “You can’t ask me that.” After this, he makes some manner of excuse and shoots up. He departs from the common room quietly, leaving you alone with your thoughts of the commander. Is he really okay?

Lost in thoughts, you stumble upon something—your father had done research on the Furies. Perhaps he’d left something useful behind at your home… or the one that used to be yours. It’s already too late to visit… And finding an escort will be troublesome enough…

June 25, 665 – Toehwa-hyeon, Kingdom of Silla

The following day, you leave a neatly written note behind at the inn for anyone who may be curious as to where you’re headed. It had only taken you a week, maybe less, to return to your home on the main roads… And it should take about that time to return.

It seems as if no one’s visited the home in several years, everything covered in a thick layer of dust. You hum to yourself, perusing the shelves and drawers for anything denoting your father’s research on the Furies. Hands brushing off a few books, you scan their contents only for them to reveal some barely legible scribbles that would take you forever to decipher.

‘No…’ You shake your head, this is the least you can do for the Hwarang.

After searching through several more books, you sit on the floor, sighing heavily as your eyes fall to the unkempt floor. Have you been foolish enough to think that this would work? That waltzing in, finding these secret documents and solving the Hwarang’s plague would be easy?

You frown, needing to rid these thoughts. So, you continue to flip through all the books and papers you can lay your hands on. As you skim through a large sheaf of papers a small stak falls onto the floor, dust flying upwards as it lands. It appears to be… some kind of formula?

“Huh?” You murmur, moving to place down the stack in your hands, reaching for the papers at your feet. Studying it, you realize what you’ve found. It details a mismade concoction your father had created after working with the Hwarang that could stop Furies’ bloodlust for a time. Maybe you’ve found something useful after all?

July 1st, 665 – Ungjin, Kingdom of Silla

You arrive in Ungjin just as the sun settles beyond the western horizon, and as you enter the Hwarang’s compound, you’re met with Soonyoung and Seungcheol. Their backs turned to you, you call out to them to make sure they can hear you.

“You’re back?” His brow raises inquisitively, as if he’d not known if you were coming back. “It’s dangerous out there, you know. You shouldn’t be out at night all by yourself.”

“I meant to come back earlier… The roads were… I lost track of time, is all,” You say quickly, trying to change the subject. “Anyway! I have something for you!”

You reach into your bag, procuring the medicine you were able to make from your father’s old supplies.

“What’s this?” Seungcheol questions as he looks over the powdery substance.

“It’s medicine to suppress bloodlust! I went back home and found instructions on how to make it,” you nod enthusiastically, “It should make the pain go away, at least for a little while.”

His gaze looks from the medicine to you, biting his lip in thought 

before looking into your eyes, “Thank you, but no. Your gesture is certainly appreciated, but it isn’t needed.”

“Huh?” You say, unable to stop the exclamation from leaving you, “Wait, but… without it…”

“You are not one of us, so to you the bloodlust may seem odd, or wrong.” He gingerly hands the powder back to you, “However, the more one tries to suppress it, the greater the pain becomes. This medicine would be a minor reprieve… nothing more.” Before you can say anything else, he nods to you, “Excuse me. I must leave for patrol. Good night.”

You wonder what he’s to do about his bloodlust without the medicine as you watch him walk briskly into the night. To not only acknowledge but accept this insatiable craving as a part of one’s life seems… beyond you. It’s now that you remember Seulgi’s warning of the Hwarang’s Furies murdering people on the streets to test their strength… Had they been feeding off of innocent lives?

“I’ll take that,” Soonyoung says, looking down at the medicine.

“Oh!” You nod, handing it to him, “Of course.” He stuffs it into his pocket before staring at where Seungcheol had just disappeared. “I’m going on patrol with him. If he… does anything weird, I’ll stop him. So don’t worry, alright?”

“Alright,” you nod quickly, “I’m counting on you, Soonyoung… Is the Commander inside?”

“Yeah,” the Hwarang nods, “he came back earlier this evening, but he locked himself in his room. Not a peep from him since.”

“Oh…” You hum, “I’m going to check on him then.”

Soonyoung and you say your quick goodbyes, and you make your way inside of the inn towards Jihoon’s room. You hope the wave of anxiety you feel is a needless one, but you have a very bad feeling as you call out to him from behind the door of his room.

A knock, “Are you in there? I have something for you…”

Nothing. “You’re about to turn away, assuming that he’s asleep when—

Jihoon cries out in pain, sounding as if he’s struggling for air.

“Commander—I’m coming in!” You blurt out, opening the door and running inside quickly.

Jihoon lays bent over his desk at the back of the room, sweat pouring down his face as his teeth squeak horribly as he grits them. His hair that falls around his face lay a stark white, his eyes, when he opens them to look at you, are a harsh crimson.

“Are you okay?!” You say as you rush to his side.

“You idiot.” He groans, “Just shut up.”

“But—”

“This’ll pass… any time now… Don’t get all worked up over nothing! Leave it.” He wraps his arms around his shoulders and squeezes until his knuckles turn white as he glances up at you. His breath comes out in pants as he shivers violently.

It’s Jihoon’s personality to refuse any show of pain, or any emotion at all—or at least to show as little as possible. For him to be like this…The pain must be unimaginable. Is this the bloodlust that Soonyoung spoke of?

You pause, knowing that he needs blood but that’s… A frown as you think of the medicine, but again, Seungcheol had said it was a temporary solution. Should you give him your blood, then?

There isn’t any time to think of this any longer. It’s not the best plan, perhaps, but you cannot bear to see him in pain any longer. Besides, this is one way that you can help.

Jihoon shakes fiercely as you gaze upon him in horror. Saying nothing, you draw the blade at your waist.

“What the hell are you—?!” Jihoon’s eyes go wide as you slide your finger along the edge of the blade, a bead of thick blood forming over the cut.

“Please drink my blood,” you offer your hand to him, “It’ll make you feel better, right?”

“I can’t do that!” He refutes, his clothes drenched in sweat as he shakes like a leaf in the wind. If he had the strength you’re sure he’d try to knock your hand away.

“Don’t worry about me,” you insist, unable to watch him suffer any longer, “Please…”

Though he’s trying to resist, his eyes are locked on your finger, to the blood dripping to the floor. He balls his fist tightly, but he cannot resist.

“You’re an idiot,” he murmurs, reaching out for your hand, “A girl shouldn’t hurt herself for a man’s sake…” Then, he brings your fingers to his lips, you wince slightly as you feel the soft caress of his tongue on your cut. Then, the gentle pressure of his teeth and lips as he sucks, drawing a few more drops out and into his mouth.

“I’ll be fine,” you promise, “I’m a Demon. I heal quickly.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he frowns, “Demon or not, you’re still a girl.” By now, his breathing has already begun to calm itself; through his hand on your wrist, you can feel him stop shaking as well. A few moments later, his grasp on your wrist loosens and he slips his hand away.

The cut on your finger has already healed. The split in the flesh mends before your very eyes as you sit there quietly, Jihoon wincing.

“I’m sorry for being so forward…” You apologize, returning your hand to your side.

Jihoon takes a quiet breath and shakes his head, a sense of calm seems to emerge from him, “This isn’t the time to be pretending that I’m fine. I know that. If I want to make sure that Youngmin succeeds, then I don’t have a choice. I have to become a monster.”

Absently, you move your fingers to the wrist he’d taken when he drank your blood. A peculiar feeling lingers on the surface of your skin, almost as if you can still feel his warmth there.

September 10th, 665 – Ungjin, Kingdom of Silla

Even after the events of that fateful night, Jihoon had pushed himself just as hard as he had before; he still continues to visit the council members whenever he can find the time. Eventually, that work does pay off, and he’s found himself in several meetings with the King’s closest men.

Between his demanding schedule and Fury-related difficulties, you know he must be miserable, but you know that he’s determined to give Youngmin his fight. This alone seems to drive him forward.

It’s a cool evening when the doors of the compound open and Kwak Youngmin walks confidently into the Hwarang’s main hall.

“I apologize for worrying you all,” he smiles, scratching the back of his head.

“Welcome back!” Both Dohoon and Junghwan say excitedly, “We’re happy you’re back with us.”

“You flatter me,” Youngmin laughs, “But in all seriousness… Thank you. I am truly grateful that I am able to join you all again.” His eyes scan the room of men, nodding as he does, “I’m sure you’re all wondering what’s next. First, we’ll head to Hanseong. We’ve been ordered to take the city.”

Prior to this, you’d heard that Youngmin has almost been promoted to a position outside of the Hwarang, while Jihoon has basically taken over Youngmin's old role as Chief.

It’s a momentous honor to have been bestowed, although you can see that some of the men are hesitant to find cause for celebration.

“Hey, Kwak,” Junhui says from his seated position, “Who came up with the idea of us sieging Hanseong?”

“Kim Yong, why?” Youngmin looks at him quizzically, “Is that a problem?”

“This guy is rumored to be a pacifist,” Junhui pushes, “Why does he want us to go to war?”

“Besides,” Mingyu adds, “I’ve heard that the King is perfectly willing to just go along with whatever the Tang forces want. You don’t think Kim feels the same way?”

Youngmin crosses his arms before he speaks, “Wen, Kim, these are direct orders from the King’s council. It’s true that the King is following the influence of the Tang, but to be fair, he owes them a great amount of debt. However, if we can take Hanseong, then perhaps he’ll see that he won’t need to rely on their aid as much as we drive out Goguryeo. This isn’t just a matter of winning and losing; the men in charge are saying that we are a force skilled and dedicated enough to capture Hanseong.” His voice sharp, domineering, “Isn’t our duty as warriors, then, to give all we can to this fight? Don’t you agree, Junhui?”

“You’re going to gloss over it like that?” Junhui scoffs, “I’m a captain of the Hwarang, but I’m not your retainer.”

Looking upset, Youngmin moves to speak before Mingyu interjects, “Hansol… what’s your take on all of this?”

“I will do whatever is commanded of me.” He says simply.

All eyes turn to Jihoon, who’s been observing the amicable commotion before him quietly, “We should round up more men if we’re to go to war. If we do well in Hanseong, I’m sure the Crown will send us even more men. As far as Kim goes… Doesn’t matter how much he hates war, I’m sure he knows that you cannot avoid it.” His head shakes as he sighs out, “I mean, if he refuses Tang influence at this point, what’s the point of staking out Goguryeo? What’s the point in seeking out revenge?”

“I guess you have a point,” when Jihoon had put it that way, it seems like Junhui has nothing more to oppose.

“Shall we head out for the mountains near Hanseong and prepare for night raids?” Seungcheol asks.

“The Fury Corps aren’t going this time,” Jihoon states, “You’re staying here.” 

“Why?” Seungcheol frowns.

“If the King does send us reinforcements, I can’t afford to let them see you.” Jihoon adamantly shakes his head, “There’s going to be significantly more men in Hanseong, you’ll get spotted. Then what’ll be the point of having a secret division?”

“But—!” Seungcheol begins to retort until Soonyoung stops him.

“The war’s only just begun… We shouldn’t be in a rush.”

You see Jihoon and Soonyoung exchange a quick look. They must have realized how Seungcheol would react and spoke of this beforehand. To you, at least, there seems to be a silent agreement.

“Alright then, everyone return to your rooms. We have some time before we leave so make sure you get your affairs in order,” Youngmin stands as he addresses the room.

And that’s that. The captains soon leave for their stations, seeking to brief their men and prepare for battle. Only Jihoon remains behind, mumbling something to himself as he sifts through the massive stacks of paper and maps before him.

“Are you sure it’ll be okay?” You ask timidly as you approach him.

“Hm?” He glances up to you, “What will be okay?”

“This war… It’s not going to just be one battle, is it?” You frown, “Wouldn’t it have been better to take the Fury Corps along?”

“Oh.” He sighs, “That.” The map in hand set down, he glances at it before looking back to you, “Remember what that Sooyoung girl, or whatever her name was, warned us about the Furies killing people?”

“Yes…”

“Well. I think it might’ve been Seungcheol.” He says shortly as your mouth flies open.

“What?!”

“The Fury Corps is our ace in the hole,” he continues, ignoring your short outburst, “but I can’t have them murdering people in the streets to satisfy their bloodlust. During the fight in Seorabeol they used silver arrowheads on the Furies, which made them essentially useless. Until we can figure out how to counteract the silver problem, I need to have Seungcheol stay here. Soonyoung will… keep an eye on him. We also may need them to collect arms for a counterattack.”

A counterattack… Does that mean Jihoon is planning for a possible loss in Hanseong?

“This next fight is going to be a big one. We probably shouldn’t take you, but… If I leave you here, Jisoo might decide to try and steal you away again. So, I’m taking you with us, but you need to watch yourself and stay out of trouble.”

With the nervous knot slowly forming in your stomach, you nod, “Okay…”

October 31st, 665 – Ungjin, Kingdom of Silla

Today, the Hwarang leave for Hanseong. And as you enter the common room, you take note of the different outfits the men have donned.

“You’re up early,” Junhui muses, beckoning you over.

“Your clothes…” Your brow furrows at him, “Are you really Junhui?! What are you wearing?”

“The Commander ordered us to dress in Tang clothing when going into battle from now on,” Hansol explains as you look over his new uniform as well.

You look at the Commander, dressed predominately in black with red trim, his new outfit giving him an elegant look. It suits him well, he looks almost as handsome as an actor. You can’t help but stand there and admire him for a moment.

“Something wrong?” Jihoon asks as he notes your prolonged gaze, “…Do you think I’m wearing it wrong?”

“Hm? Oh. No. No, definitely not.”

He laughs, “You’re strange.”

“Hm,” you shake your head and your eyes fall on Youngmin, “Why aren’t you wearing Tang clothes?”

“They’re just so… heavy.” Youngmin explains, “I can’t stand how the shoes are made either. I wouldn’t feel like a real warrior dressed like that. I suppose I’m being childish, but that’s my right.”

“You’re fine,” Jihoon smiles, “It’s not like you’ll be out on the front lines. You just have to act dignified in front of the men. Your presence alone is enough to inspire everyone.”

“You’re going to make me blush,” Youngmin sounds flustered before speaking to the men, “Well, let’s go then! To Hanseong!”

November 11th, 665 – The Road North, Kingdom of Silla/Goguryeo

And so, the Hwarang are headed north. During the journey, Youngmin splits from the main group to visit his hometown somewhere east of the border. And after several days of his absence, the men begin to worry.

“Where is he?” Junhui notes as the men stop along a rocky path, his eyes looking up the walkway and behind to where they’d come.

“It seems as if the Chief hasn’t caught up with us yet…” Junghwan trails off, a frown of worry present on his lips.

“Still? How long is he going to sit around that inn getting drunk?” Junhui says impatiently.

“Well, he probably hasn’t been home in a while,” Mingyu snorts, “Probably wants to show off how successful he’s been. Not to mention he probably wants to visit his wife and daughter. He hasn’t seen them in a long time.”

“Show off, huh?” Junhui shakes his head, “We’re marching to war. You really think this is the time for that shit?”

“He’s gone to see if the rumors of people wanting to join us were true, if they are, he needs to assess their abilities,” Jihoon interjects. “What better way to get to know new soldiers than by sharing a drink with them?”

“You have a point… but…”

Jihoon’s eyes narrow and Junhui looks unsatisfied as the commander mutters to himself, “If we had gotten enough men before we left, then Youngmin wouldn’t be out there right now.” His words cut the air like a knife.

The Hwarang had made a name for themselves in Seorabeol, but their notoriety can only carry them so far. You no longer have the luxury of interviewing potential recruits and taking the best ones; now, you need to offer incentives of alcohol and money to attract them. You know Jihoon would have rather cut off his own arm than stoop this low, but he has no choice.

From down the path, you can see Hansol rearing towards the group atop his horse, stopping shortly before you and leaping off, “Commander, I have something to report—The enemy has called reinforcements to Hanseong.”

“What? How did they know we were coming…” Jihoon frowns, “We’ve got to relay this to Youngmin as soon as possible.”

November 14th, 665 – Outside of Hanseong, Kingdom of Goguryeo

It’s some time before the Chief receives the message and returns to the main group of Hwarang. Long enough for the news of the enemy threat to spread and causation for some to panic. Nearly fifteen hundred of the men you’d left Ungjin with desert, reducing your forces to a mere two thousand. Mingyu and Junhui seem only more cautious at this, both advising retreat. But Youngmin decides that the Hwarang will form up for battle and fight until the bitter end.

Now that the Crown had given him direct orders, he said that there cannot be any hesitance.

“I’ll call in reinforcements from Ungjin,” Jihoon frowns, “One thing for sure is… We cannot afford to lose this. Make that damn clear to the reinforcements, we can’t afford to have any more deserters.”

“Of course,” Hansol nods, turning and jogging off to join the rest of the men.

After giving his directions to the last of his men, Jihoon looks to you.

“Go back to Ungjin with someone. This place will turn into a battlefield soon enough, and you should be somewhere safe.” The tone in his voice shows no room for you to question his call.

“I’ll stay here…” You eventually conclude, “I can’t run away to somewhere safe while everyone else is off fighting. I’ll stay here to watch over the Chief until you get back.”

Jihoon grimaces, “How? You can’t swing a sword to save your life, and I don’t think you’ve got the guts to kill a man. You’re not a soldier.” You’d expected him to say as much, but you’re not going to back down easily.

“It’s true that I’m not very good with a sword, but… I can still be his shield. Any small wounds I sustain will heal quickly enough.”

“Why are you doing this? No one’s asked you to,” Jihoon stares at you, seeing that your resolve isn’t shaken.

“I know I may be out of line when I say this, but I know that we can’t lose him. Not now.” You insist, “I’m sick and tired of always being protected, I want to help!” You’ve been with them long enough now to see how much Youngmin means to Jihoon and the rest of the Hwarang. If you go back to Ungjin and Youngmin dies… Just thinking of it makes a cold chill crawl up your spine.

Jihoon chews his lip thoughtfully for a moment, and his hard, piercing gaze never seems to drift away from your face. Refusing to break his concentration for a long moment, he sighs.

“If you’re really that serious about this, then I’ve got an order for you,” he crosses his arms, “As a member of the Hwarang.”

“What…?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“You’re going to guard Youngmin personally. Stay by his side and give him anything he asks for.” After awaiting your baffled response he continues, “…And?”

“Yes! Sir!” Without thinking, you straighten up and nod vigorously.

“I will protect him even if it means my li—” Before you can finish, Kum cuts you off with a sharp expression.

“There’s one condition. You can’t die.” That isn’t the sort of thing you’d expect him to say. ‘Be careful’, maybe, but not ‘You can’t die’. “And don’t do anything stupid, like being his shield, or whatever bullshit you were saying. I am not ordering you to die.” He gives you one last pointed look before turning to gaze bitterly at the walls of Hanseong in the distance.

“If our enemy this time turns out to be a bunch of amateurs who’re just hoping to kiss some ass with their king, we might have a chance,” he muses. “If it’s not… That’ll be a different story. I’ll try and get back as fast as I can, but if something happens before I do, I’m counting on you and Hansol to make sure Youngmin gets away clean.” Jihoon then looks back to you, “And none of this shield shit. You escape with him. Die, and I’ll make sure you regret it. Understood?”

You feel a cold sweat on your  back as his words sink their way into your skin. You’d seen others fight for their lives in battle many times, but this is the first that you’d actually be joining. Will you really be able to protect Youngmin? Will it even be possible to evade your enemies, let Youngmin escape and survive?

Perhaps Jihoon notices your sudden fear as he lets out a short, bitter laugh, “Hey. Take out your sword.”

“Huh?” You ask, stunned for a moment by the strangeness of his request before complying and unsheathing your blade from its scabbard.

Jihoon then moves to swiftly remove his from his hip, taking his steel and tapping it against your own. The clear tone they make draws goosebumps from your arms.

“The third rule of O Gye is to trust your friends and treat them sincerely…”

“O- Oh…” You furrow your brow. The O Gye is the set of principles that the Hwarang have followed since their inception, why is he…

“You’re a Hwarang now… Well,” he chuckles, “I suppose you’d be a Wonhwa, wouldn’t you? Regardless, this is proof.”

“Proof of what?” You ask as he smiles gently at you.

“That I’ll come back, that you can trust that I will return and that I can trust that you’ll survive too.” He lowers his blade, slipping it back into its sheath, “So you believe me, and you wait. And don’t die.” His words are confident, and listening to him, you feel as if they somehow have bolstered your spirit tenfold.

As someone who prides himself on being a Hwarang, you know these words, the O Gye, mean a great deal to him. You have to follow through, you can’t break this newly formed promise with him.

“I understand,” you nod, “I will protect the Chief and I will survive.”

November 27th, 665 – Outside of Hanseong, Kingdom of Goguryeo

Slowly, the Hwarang find themselves driven into a stalemate. Youngmin had done his best to try and tell the men they were to slowly siege the city, to draw them out and have them surrender on their own terms to protect the area around Hanseong from becoming bloodied with battle. Unfortunately, one of the new recruits had cried out that he was a Hwarang and slain a Goguryeo soldier.

That was the spark that set the pile ablaze. The bulk of the opponent’s forces turned out to be men who’d come from the hardened battle lines of Goguyeo’s northern fronts, meaning they’d been in near constant battle with the Tang for years. It quickly becomes stalemated as the days progress. Youngmin has no choice now but to retreat until forces from Ungjin arrive.

“We have to go!” You cry out as Youngmin emerges from his tent, “If we don’t, you’ll be killed if Goguryeo breaks through our lines!”

“My men are still fighting out there!” He states firmly, “I cannot run away and leave them, I will not leave them behind!”

“Even if we lose this battle now, we have reinforcements coming later, and as long as you’re safe, there’s still hope for the Hwarang—” You insist as you walk with him, “We can regroup and fight back later!” You reach for his hand, pulling him as hard as you can toward the path away from the city.

Youngmin looks across the battlefield at his men, hopelessly entrenched in lines that will never break or push through. The smell of death from both allied and enemy corpses stings your noses. Looking at him, you can see tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He lowers his gaze, murmuring something as Hansol returns from the front lines.

Hansol’s steely expression is colored by streaks of mud and grit from the battlefield, “Are you prepared to leave?” He notes the bags around your and Youngmin’s backs, “Good. Let’s go.”

“Let’s go quickly…” You say, urging Youngmin forward.

“Right…” He sighs out and begins to walk once more.

Running into the nearby forest, you escape into it under the cover of the quickly encroaching night.

“We’ll be in Silla territory soo,” you say as you look at Youngmin, “Hang in there.”

“Right…” He sighs once more.

Perhaps it’s because you’ve never seen him lose before, but this is the first time you’ve seen Youngmin so… drained.

“I’m sorry for being so, um, forward…” He eventually says, “I let so many of my men die…”

“You can’t beat yourself up over that now.” You say, trying to rid him of the thought, “Like the Commander said, we just don’t have what it takes to beat them right now.” Your words don’t seem to reach him as he continues to stare numbly beyond you.

“Perhaps if someone else were Chief… they might still be alive…”

“Youngmin…” You let his name slip from your lips, forgetting the last time you’d referred to him by his name, not his family’s.

“Who’s there?”  Before you’re able to console him any more, you hear a voice coming from the brush that sounds unfamiliar to you. Peeking out, you catch the sight of a Goguryeo soldier and freeze immediately. “I know you heard me.”

Hansol, who’d been staring intently out to where the soldier stands, murmurs, “I’ll buy you some time. Take the Chief and escape.”

Nodding quickly, you and Youngmin tiptoe away through the brush, trying your best not to make any noise. Just as soon as you’re able to get Youngmin moving at a decent pace, a shadow leaps out before you, barring your way forward.

“I had a feeling you might be here…” The figure of Hwan Minhyun murmurs before you. Instinctively, you step backwards, unease writhing in your stomach as you wonder if Hong Jisoo is nearby.

“Wasn’t he with the Goguryeo army in Seorabeol?” Youngmin asks as you slowly nod your head. “Then we can no longer escape… I need to take responsibility for the men I’ve lost. Will you go on without me?”

“What…?” You look at him puzzled, “I can’t do that!”

Minhyun had remained silent for the short exchange, but now he speaks up, “Yes, I do work with their forces. But I have been given no orders regarding the Hwarang.” His eyes shift to you, “My only business here is with her.”

“Me?” Your brow furrows as he crosses his arms.

“Jisoo is… vexed by you and that commander of yours. He disregards the kingdom’s wishes and does as he pleases, not as he is ordered. Yeon Gaesomun is troubled, to say the least. And for now, we don’t wish to cut our ties with Goguryeo quite yet.” The light in his eyes promises violence, and his body tightens as his hand rests on the hilt of his sword, ready to make good on whatever promise he’d made. With a swift flourish, he relinquishes his blade from its sheath and narrows his eyes at you, “And for that, you must die here.”

With shaky hands, you reach for your blade, already knowing you’re no match for the Demon.

“He’s after me,” you look frantically to Youngmin, “Only me. You need to escape!”

“But—!” Youngmin says, panic riddling his expression.

“I’ll be fine,” you try to reassure him with a small smile. “The Hwarang need you now more than ever, you can’t abandon them.”

His mouth hangs slack for a moment, speechless. Then he shuts his jaw and draws his sword,“No matter the reason, an honorable warrior cannot run away and leave a woman to fight alone.” Despite your protest, he gets into a fighting stance, slowly closing the distance between Minhyun and himself. His face calm and serene, you don’t see any hesitation in his eyes, “My recklessness has seen many of my men to their death, I don’t want it to lead another away.”

You’d seen this same expression on Eunseok’s face just before he’d died on Jisoo’s blade. Youngmin’s mind has already been made.

“I am Kwak Youngmin, Chief of the Hwarang!” With his sword held high, he charges Minhyun.

The intense force of their clash sends a shockwave rippling through the air. The clangor of metal rings out and the two part.

“You challenge me knowing that you cannot win, for the sake of someone who cannot defend themselves…” Minhyun almost lets a smile creep onto the corner of his lips, “Your actions are worthy of respect.”

Youngmin swings at his last word, Minhyun sliding away as if he’s made of water. His hand outstretches and grabs the metal of Youngmin’s blade, pushing the hilt of it into the Chief’s stomach.

As Youngmin groans out, falling towards the ground, Minhyun flips him around so that he slams directly onto his back.

“I’ve knocked most of the air out of him. He won’t be able to move for quite some time,” Minhyun glances at Youngmin writhing on the ground and then looks at you. “You’re next. Do not blame me for what I have to do.”

Raising his blade, he charges at you, kicking you in the stomach as you have no time to dodge his attack. Feeling like your whole body is about to shatter, you endure the pain just a bit more and struggle to your feet.

“You just saw the difference in our power… Are you sure you still want to put up a fight?” He asks, looking at the blade locked tightly in your grip. Noticing that you’re not budging, he nods, “Very well. I’ll humor you, then.”

Giving a huff, you readjust your grip on your sword and rush at Minhyun. However, he evades your attack with no effort. You murmur to yourself how you need to change your movements, and begin to swing rapidly at him. Yet, once again, his elegant technique moves him out of the path of your blade. No matter how many times you charge and slash at him, there’s no way you’ll even scathe him. It’s not until his leg moves and kicks your arm with the force of a falling boulder that you move again.

The pain is so immediately overwhelming, you drop your blade to the forest floor, crying out in pain as you fall to the ground. Your knees skim across the dirt, digging into the earth and scraping your skin. Your brain screams at you to move, to fight, but the roar of your surely broken arm drowns it out almost entirely.

“This fight is done,” Minhyun says quietly, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

Your eyes close as you hear him approach, and a myriad of thoughts runs through you. An apology to Jihoon, first and foremost, he’d told you to survive and now you’re doing everything but. A tear carves its way down the side of your cheek as you wait for the blow to hit you.

“Giving up so soon?” A voice says calmly, “The Hwarang don’t stop fighting until they’re dead. The only thing on your mind right now should be how you’re going to out-think this idiot.”

That voice…

Your head raises and eyes shoot open just in time to see Jihoon leap through the air and land a strike with his sword on Minhyun’s arm.

“You!” Minhyun says as he recoils.

“I thought I’d only be fighting soldiers out here… Guess I’ll be taking care of a Demon, too,” Jihoon huffs, his white hair glimmering in the moonlight.

“Have you learned nothing since your fight with Jisoo?” Minhyun huffs, “A Fury is a mere echo of a true Demon. No matter how powerful you may think yourself, you cannot defeat us.”

Jihoon lets out a short laugh, “Never know until you try…”

“Only bloodshed will satisfy you… Very well.” Minhyun raises his sword, “I’ll be your opponent.” Giving him a short nod, Minhyun once again falls easily into a ready stance.

Jihoon’s blade flickers through the air, a little more than a glint of silver in the moonlight. Minhyun blocks it with his own sword, dodging away from the attack. With his brow furrowed, Jihoon braces himself for the pushback that Minhyun does, using the momentum against the commander to shove him back.

Jihoon’s face twists as his feet slide back into the dirt. Be it his Fury-born strength or his adrenaline- he surges forward after a split second, charging toward Minhyun. His blade leaps forward, burying itself into the Demon’s chest. Blood flies from the gash, splashing across Jihoon’s face.

A startled noise falls from his mouth and he jerks back, pulling his sword from the wound. No sooner had it been out did the wound begin to close.

“Right…” Jihoon shakes his head, “You heal quickly, don’t you? It’s straight through the heart or not at all, huh?” His sword shines with the sheen of fresh blood, “I’ve got you figured out, though. I know how you move. You’re tough, but you’re not impossible.”

Drenched in blood, Jihoon looks more monster than human, his eyes wide and hungry. There’s something terrifying and inhuman about his expression as he whips his sword through the air.

Minhyun leaps back, Jihoon’s sword almost catching his hand as he does so. Jabs and parries, feints and counter-feints… The battle flows between them like a living thing; it changes, moving too fast for any mortal eye to track. Neither of the two men show any sign of tiring as they dodge and attack in ways that would be unthinkable for any human.

Even in the maelstrom of death and violence, you can see Jihoon smiling.

The smell of blood hangs heavy in the air, and his grin speaks of a Fury’s lust for death.

“I never imagined a Fury could match me in battle…” Minhyun murmurs as the two part, “You are unexpected. This power, though, what will you do with it?”

“What?” Jihoon says, confused. “Protect those I care for. What other reason could there be for wanting power?”

“Those you care for… Would you count Silla among that number?”

“No… This is bigger than the Kingdom. They can’t compare.”

Minhyun closes his eyes and stays silent for  a moment. What’s gotten into him? Why had he stopped fighting?

This would be a perfect time to strike, right?

Just as you think to pick up your blade and move toward him, you feel a hand on your shoulder, “Stay back.” Hansol, who you hadn’t heard return, stops you despite your protest. “That Demon no longer thirsts for blood. This battle is over.”

“Demons are not meant to involve themselves in the world of humans,” Minhyun states as he opens his eyes to stare at Jihoon, who’d lowered his sword. “Now that you’ve become a Fury, you belong in the shadows as well.”

“Yeah.” Jihoon says shortly, “I’m not interested in my name being written in the annals.”

“If you understand that, I shall leave the rest to you.” Minhyun shakes his head, “Jisoo is proud, even for a Demon. If you have indeed humiliated him, I doubt he will ever forgive you. It is unlikely that you will defeat him… However, if there is something you wish to protect, then please… use the powers you’ve been granted to do so.”

In his own stoic way, Jihoon looks as confused as you feel. Can Minhyun be trusted?

“There is one more thing I must tell you…” Minhyun warns, “The power of the Furies is not magic, or a gift from the gods. Great strength, lightning speed, and mortal wounds that close themselves… This power was already within you, but had you stayed human you would have spent it in decades, not minutes. You are only borrowing these things.”

Your fingernails dig into your palms at the realization. By ‘borrowing’, does he mean that when Jihoon taps into the speed and strength of a Fury, he’s picking away at his future—his life?

“So you’re saying that every time I tap into it, my life gets a little shorter?” Jihoon asks and Minhyun nods. The commander lets out a short laugh, “Makes sense. Seemed too good to be true. Guess it’s only natural that I’d have to trade something for this kind of power.”

“Then I will be on my way…”

“Hold on. I want to ask you something.” Jihoon stops him before he can run off, “You sure you want to let us get away? If you don’t kill me now, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up killing your friend.”

“If you defeat him, then that was all he amounted to.” Minhyun states plainly, “We Demons are not sentimental.” Then, with a last polite nod, he disappears into the night,

With his enemy gone, Jihoon slumps and takes a long, deep breath.

“Are you alright?” Your voice comes out quietly as you look at him.

“Fine. Where’s Youngmin?”

“Over there,” Hansol gestures as Jihoon runs off toward the Chief.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks as Youngmin looks at him wide-eyed, “Are you hurt?”

“Jihoon… you…” With Jihoon standing before him, his white hair and red eyes bright in the moonlight, he looks as if he’s seen a ghost. A Fury.

“Oh…” Jihoon begins but looks away, almost guiltily.

Staring at him a moment before speaking again, Youngmin notes in a soft, stunned voice, “Are you… a Fury?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jihoon admits, “I didn’t have a choice, alright? It was for the Hwarang,”

For a moment, he sounds composed, but as you look closer you can see that he’s desperately avoiding Youngmin’s gaze. Not being able to bear looking him in the eye.

Everyone is silent for a moment before the first raindrop hits you, taking you by surprise.

“…It’s starting to rain…” Jihoon sighs, “We need to get back to Ungjin and reorganize. We need to discuss our next move.”

“Right,” you nod, reaching out to tug at Youngmin’s sleeve, “Come on, we need to hurry.” Youngmin simply stands there, almost as if he’s forgotten how to walk. “Is something wrong?” It begins to rain harder yet he doesn’t budge.

Rain runs down his cheeks to his chin, or are they tears?

“What…” He murmurs, “What have I been doing…? Today I sent men—men who trusted me—into battle. They died. And I’ve made you,” his gaze flickers to Jihoon, “a man I’ve known for years, into a Fury. A monster…”

“Youngmin…” Jihoon’s brow furrows at him, “What is this? No one blames you. We were able to take the city because Wong Kunhang’s forces showed up— No matter how good of a tactician you are, we couldn’t have taken Hanseong alone.” He shakes his head, “I made bad calls too, and it got Eunseok and Chan killed. We cannot change the past. What we can do is turn this around and keep fighting with our all. Besides, I don’t regret becoming a Fury.”

He laughs shortly, “Hell, I’m stronger and faster than I ever was, and I can use that to help you out. Nothing could make me happier.”

Rain pours onto their faces. Surely it’s in your imagination, but for a moment, it almost looks as if Jihoon is crying. Youngmin stares at him for a long moment, then finally draws himself together.

“I’m sorry,” Youngmin shakes his head with a small smile, “I was being foolish. Forget what I said.” Something in his voice tells you that even he doesn’t quite believe that.

 December 2nd, 665 – Ungjin, Kingdom of Silla

The Hwarang had returned to Ungjin. Rejoining with your friends and the rest of the men who had stayed behind feels bittersweet. Your mind often turns to Youngmin, who expectedly remains disconsolate after his first defeat on the battlefield. 

Even after the attempts to rouse him, he spends most of his time in his quarters, moping. The man who had come in only hours after the Hwarang had given up their position in Hanseong, Wong Kunhang, would be arriving in Ungjin any day now. His victory over the Goguryeo forces had been a swift undertaking, something of a thorn in the Chief’s side. 

You think of this future meeting as someone brushes past you just as you’re about to begin lighting the lanterns outside of the headquarters. 

“Oh– Hansol? Are you off to work?”

The man gives you a curt nod, “When you have a moment, could you make some tea and bring it to Jihoon?” Without waiting for a response, he gives you a small smile and scurries off. 

Hansol had never been a talkative man in your presence, or anyone’s, really. Yet he’d lately taken on a taciturn demeanor. Is he still upset by the events from Hanseong…? Or maybe… 

The day after the large posse had returned to Ungjin, you awoke the next morning to Junhui and Junhui loitering around the main hall, their gear and belongings tucked away into haphazardly made bags. 

‘We’ve made up our minds’ you recall Junhui saying, a dimness in his voice that you would have never attributed to him prior to that meeting. ‘Our path isn’t Youngmin’s. I don’t think we can follow him anymore.’ 

It was a blurry goodbye after that, and you suspect that you’re not fully over their departure, either. Of course, you’ve only known them for a few years, not the lifetime it seems that they’ve had with the other men. 

Along with their departure, Seungkwan had been moved to Sabi, a southern town known for its medicinal practices. Finding his room empty left you feeling bereft as well. 

One by one, the group that you’d come to find as a second family is slowly falling apart. 

As you light the last lantern you sigh to yourself and decide to go make tea, as requested by Hansol. 

The tray remains sturdy in your grasp, even if you can hear the ceramic clinking against itself as you approach the Commander’s door, “Good evening, I’ve brought you tea…” As you speak, you open the door, stopping almost immediately as the gazes of Jihoon, Soonyoung and Seungcheol fall onto you. 

Their conversation must’ve been important judging by the hardset lines carved into their expressions. 

“I’m sorry!” You say quickly, “I hadn’t realized that you were in the middle of a meeting.” Feet trailing backwards, you’re almost out of the room when Jihoon speaks up.

“You can stay.” 

His words halt your movement and Seungcheol piques your interest as he looks back to Jihoon, glaring, “You cannot possibly be serious about this! Why would you halt the augmentation of the Fury Corps?!” 

“I am serious,” Jihoon’s attention turns from you and once back to his comrade. “I will not have any more men being turned into Furies. Make do with what you have.” 

“I apologize but I cannot support your decision. The Hwarang’s power is at an all time low, even if Silla is standing against Goguryeo and winning– I think that expanding the Fury Corps to keep this fight pushing forward is our only option.” Seungcheol’s voice is a strained composure as he grits his teeth and continues, “Soonyoung told me that Junhui and Mingyu have left. That is a serious blow to us, Jihoon.”

“You saw what happened in Hanseong– Even if we recruit more, they’ll run off on us. Wasting our effort on pitiful men like that is foolish. Would it not be better to focus on those who have abided by our code? Who understands what it means to be a Hwarang?” 

Soonyoung looks to the floor, his shoe gently tapping the boards underneath. He’s been silent since you arrived, but you can clearly see that he isn’t agreeing with Seungcheol fully. 

“You make several good points, Seungcheol.” Jihoon frowns, his arms crossing, “If we want increased strength, the best way to attain that is through the Fury Corps.”

“Then why–!” Seungcheol begins.

“There’s a problem with the Furies. A big one. We only just found out about it and our source is,” Jihoon glances at you briefly, “reliable.” With your eyes widening at what’s to come, you can only look at Soonyoung's and Seungcheol’s faces as he divulges what Minhyun had told you. 

“The power of a Fury comes from your… potential. The more you use it, the shorter your life becomes.”

Seungcheol’s gaze, usually cool and calculating, goes awry as he processes. From his standing position he falls to his knees, hitting the wood with a thud. A surge of realization of his powerlessness registers within him. 

“Yeah,” Jihoon’s voice falls into a somber lull, “We shouldn’t be using the Furies unless we really have to.”

After several long moments of silence, Seungcheol raises his head to speak, “Then that is yet another reason why the research must continue.” He pushes himself from the floor, brushing off his knees and looking at Jihoon, “It is a flaw, yes, and a serious one. But with more research… We may find a way to circumvent, or even counteract, it entirely. As a Fury, you should understand.”

“This is not a request, Seungcheol. This is an order.” Jihoon’s arms uncross and seems ready to impose his status over the other, “As your Commander, I am telling you that research on Furies will stop. There will be no more.”

Seungcheol says nothing, he just glares at Jihoon until seconds once again turn into minutes. 

“Let’s go, Seungcheol…” Soonyoung tries to urge him. When Seungcheol turns to him, you can see lines in his face, perhaps proof that his life is already steadily leaving him. 

You step aside to let them leave, and as they open the door, the figure of Youngmin is seen passing by in the hall. 

“Oh, Chief,” Soonyoung stops, “Were you coming in?”

“No…Uh… No, I’m just out for a walk,” Youngmin chuckles, “Just passing by. Don’t mind me.” A few more pleasantries were exchanged and then the sound of three sets of footsteps trail away down the hall. 

You’re reminded of Jihoon’s presence when he sighs behind you, you spin on your heels and note that he’s looking forlornly out of the small window in his room. 

“I’m sure the tea’s cold by now,” you look at the tray in your hands, “Let me get you a fresh pot.”

“No,” he stops you, gaze broken from the window and now linked to you, “I’m thirsty, cold tea’s perfect.” His hand gingerly reaches out to the tray as you approach and swiftly grabs one of the cups atop it. Jihoon brings his lips to the porcelain and he sighs, a distant look twinkles in his eyes.  

“He’s right, you know.” Jihoon says as he sets his empty cup down. “Seungcheol’s right. Mingyu and Junhui leaving…  It hurt us badly.” His voice shakes almost imperceptibly, his lips curling into a bitter smile, “I had a feeling this might happen someday. It’s our fault for falling short of what they wanted. But damn, we sure have lost a lot of people. Things are undeniably different now.”

You can’t even begin to imagine what’s going through his head. He’s been working from dusk to dawn, has he even had time to grieve anyone properly? Even with the strength that his newfound Fury powers had given him, you can see the horrible toll it’s taken on his body. 

“Jihoon…” you say softly, “you have to stop.”

“What?” His voice is much rougher than you though, giving you momentary pause.

“I’m only telling you to do what you told Seungcheol to do a few moments ago. Don’t use your Fury abilities unless it’s an emergency.” 

“Why should I listen to you?” His expression questioning. 

“Well… You turned into a Fury to save me from Jisoo, you wouldn’t have had to unl–” 

“This again?” He sighs, “Look, I said I chose to do it. I wasn’t forced.”

A pang reverberates around your ribcage, “When you say things like that, it only makes it worse. If you’re in pain, just say so. Don’t you wish you’d never become a Fury?”  

For a moment, the room is quiet, and then Jihoon begins to laugh. “I just can’t win with you, can I? You really are from the countryside.” Another chortle before he continues, “I can’t remember if I’ve told you this before– Anyway, I am the adopted son of a sixth rank noble, I hardly knew my birth parents. I was raised with the noble’s son and daughter, Hoseok and Joohyun. You kind of sound like Joohyun. Seungkwan’s sister Cheng sounds the same way too. When you go off, it’s like I’m being scolded by my family. Makes me feel like I have to listen to you.”

You’d never heard him speak of his childhood like this before. It’s surreal in a way. 

“If what Minhyun told us is true, then as long as I don’t use my Fury powers, I’ll be alright, right?” His lightheartedness flees slightly as he huffs out a puff of air, “If it gets bad I’ll let you know. Stop worrying about me.” 

He’ll likely keep most of his pain to himself– that’s just who he is, but if he really means what he’d said…

“I understand,” you say with a nod, another thought beginning to bubble to the surface. “So… What will happen to the Hwarang now?”  

“Well, we need to get Youngmin to snap out of it, but after that, we’re heading north.”

“North? You mean back to…” 

“Yeah, back to Hanseong.” Jihoon cedes with a sigh, “The Tang forces may have saved our asses up there but it doesn’t mean that they don’t want every man they can take fighting alongside them. Some of Namekawa’s men are stationed there too, hoping to round up some men and head to Bakjak. We’ll try to pincer Pyongyang and take those–” Suddenly, Jihoon’s body contorts and hunches, his hand grasping at his now heaving chest. His eyes wide in pain, sweat begins to pour from his head and he mutters out through clenched teeth, “Fuck, fuck–!” 

“Jihoon?” Your mouth lays agape as the hair on his head turns an alabaster white. It’s bloodlust, you’re sure of it. “You need blood…” The sentence isn’t a question, and you react almost instinctively, recalling what you’d done for him before. 

With unsteady hands you reach for the blade at your hip, laying its cool edge on the palm of your hand before his hand grasps around your wrist. Trying to pull away, you're met with a fervent shaking of his head. 

“I’ll do it,” he murmurs, straightening himself to the best of his ability. Jihoon moves around you, standing behind you as he loosens your collar as the night air hits your neck followed by his fingertips. Seconds later you feel the kiss of a cold blade against your neck before feeling it slide against your skin. You try your best not to wince but the air makes the cut sting. 

The cold is eventually replaced by the warmth of his face as his lips fall onto the cut. Heat raids your body, never before had you been this close to a man before. Nerves make your body twist to try and look at him until Jihoon’s hands grab your shoulders.

“Don’t look,” his voice low, husky. And you nod, not particularly sure that you want to see him in his Fury state. Those few words– a last, strained defense of his wounded pride– tear at your heart, and a knot gets stuck in your throat. For his sake you try and calm your nerves, although you can still feel your heart racing.

“I’m sorry… I can’t afford to lose it right now.” You’re unsure if he’s saying that to calm himself or calm you. 

“Of course…” Your voice leaves you quietly, “You don’t need to hold back, I want to help in whatever way I can.” 

In the days you watched both Chan and Eunseok die, you’d find yourself inundated with near tortuous regret. There had been nothing in your power you could do for them. Ever since those fateful days it has been your resolve to help the Hwarang after they’d aided and sheltered you for so long. 

Jihoon’s grip tightens on your shoulder, and a wave of emotions washes over you– guilt, disappointment, anger, regret– and you soon realize that they are not your own. They’re his. 

Eventually he lets go and steps away from you.

“I’m sorry for doing that…” His hair back to its darkened state, he can’t seem to meet your gaze. 

“It’s nothing,” you insist, adjusting the collar of your outfit that he’d shifted aside, “See? The cut’s already closed up.” Seeing his still-stolid demeanor, you continue, “I’ll be staying here for a while longer so please, if you need anything, just let me know.” 

“So I can just drink your blood whenever?” 

You nod, “You can.”

Jihoon cracks an eye open and gives you a small chuckle as he shakes his head, “Shouldn’t say things like that. Someone’s gonna use you up and throw you away.” 

You know he’s joking, but there’s a part of you that feels if it were he that used you up then it wouldn’t be that bad.

---

‘ SHIPPED ’ | joshua hong

synopsis : the one where the students of pledis uni are wondering if their two favorite professors are actually dating <3

genre/s : one-shot smau, university au, professors au, pure fluff, gn!reader

from reese, with love <3 face the sun pioneer photos ??? going crazy going feral i- this era is going to break me i can feel it,,, anyways- my brainrot is stronger than ever so i offer u this ,,, thank you for reading, as always id love to know what u think !! going back into academic hell now 🥲 take care, everyone:)