Uhdrienne - Adri 🤍

𓇢𓆸 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

"someday when you leave me / i bet these memories follow you around"

💌 summary: once a dream relationship with the love of your life, now doomed to fail because of the media, you can only hope that minghao will think of you again -- even if it's in your wildest dreams.

💌 pairing: idol!minghao x non-celebrity!reader (angst, i almost cried planning this oneshot)

💌 genre(s): angst 😭

💌 word count: 3.25k words

even if you're not meant to be, you don't always have to end things on a bad note. inspired by taylor swift's 'wildest dreams', bolded and italicised words signify the lyrics.

"He said let's get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds..."

You sing the lyrics softly, looking out of the car window.

"Ironic," Your boyfriend chuckles from next to you, eyes trained ahead as he drives on the never-ending road, winding into evermore. "Exactly what we're doing now."

You let out a laugh, leaning your head on the window as he raises your interlinked hands to press a kiss on the back of your hand. "That we are, dear."

The sunset winds into the distance and shines, just the way you like it, and you pull out your camera, letting go of Minghao's hand to snap photos, much to his dismay.

"Hey," He nudges you after you're done admiring the way the oranges and yellows twist and intertwine in all the right places, and holds his hand out again. "Hold."

You pat his cheek affectionately and take his hand.

Thirty minutes later, the same man offers you his arm to hoist you up onto the roof of the van, where he insisted was the most beautiful place on earth.

You lay your head on his shoulder and sigh in content.

The sunset could shine all it wanted, and be the largest and prettiest thing in the sky, but nothing would beat the man who was currently nestled into your side, arms snug around you and smiling with the awe and love of a lifetime.

The photo you take of you two is now framed in your shared house, and your phone next to the photo frame buzzes and lights up.

"Happy two years dear, I love you to the moon and back. Sorry I had to go back to the city, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Nothing lasts forever... but this is gonna take me down..."

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, Hao, don't be sorry," you cajole. "We'll be okay. What did the company say?"

"They'll be releasing a statement." Minghao sounds half-frustrated, half sad as he paces around, you can hear his footsteps scuffing the floor. "They're trying to do damage control, but the media is already eating it up. People are spreading the photos and I just-- I'm sorry you have to go through this. I know we wanted to keep us private."

"It was going to come out at some point," You sigh. "We both knew that."

"But it shouldn't have happened this way." Minghao counters.

"I know," You murmur, "But don't think too much and worry. We'll be fine. I love you, and I'll see you tonight, okay?"

With the promise of seeing him and spending the night together, you hang up.

Two years is a lot, you tell yourself. He'll stick by you and you'll have the ending you always dreamed of with him.

But along with the consolation came a sense of dread. Were you convincing him or yourself?

"I can see the end, as it begins, my one..condition..is…"

"Minghao?" Your voice is meek, so scared, soft and vulnerable.

Minghao hates the way the happiness in your voice has disappeared.

"Darling?"

"Th-there's reporters shouting outside," You say, clutching the phone tight as if you could gain comfort from it. "Lots of them with cameras. They... I think you might have been followed home last night. They probably waited for you to leave."

"Shit," he curses. "Wait for me, I'll be right there."

"No!" Your voice cuts through. "You can't. Y-you'll be ambushed. I know how scary the paparazzi can get. I just--"

"Baby," He says, tears welling up in his eyes, because you’re right. He would be torn to shreds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, a million times over. You don't deserve any of this, I-"

"No more of that," You whisper, and he goes quiet. "I love you. All I need is you. If this is what we must go through for me to be with you... so be it."

"I love you," he chokes out through a haze of tears and anguish. "I love you so, so, much, you have no idea."

"I love you too, Hao," You reply, and say that you'll hide out for a while so they'll leave before hanging up.

Minghao slumps down and cries like he's never cried before.

"I said, "No one has to know what we do", his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room...And his voice is a familiar sound..."

"Baby!" He races to you, sitting in the living room, still slightly shaken. He engulfs you in a hug. "I'm so sorry, I'll be sorry for the rest of my life..."

"It wasn't your fault," You reply softly, pulling back to cup his face, drawn and blotchy with tears. "Love you lots."

He wipes at your eyes, slightly swollen with your tears, ears still ringing with the shouts and camera clicks, eyes still seeing stars with the flashes as you stepped out to threaten calling the police.

"I love you," He weeps, clutching at the material of your clothes. "Why can't I just love you without other people getting involved?"

And you don't have an answer to that, so you just pull him in and press your mouth to his. It's salty with his tears, and he's shaking, but he hugs you tight, grip firm and unwavering.

He whispers promises into your skin, swears to every higher being that he'll keep you safe, promises that he'll love you for the rest of his life, and no one could keep him away from you, you both were too strong together for that. He tells you things will get better, they have to.

You believe him as you come undone, the tears staining the sheets beneath you.

"And when we've had our very last kiss...my last request...is.."

From that day on, everything changes, as much as you both vow to prevent it from happening.

Kisses are still shared, and movies are watched. His arms wind around you as you go to sleep, but those events are few and far between as he shuttles between you and the city, fulfilling his career.

When he comes home, he's either too tired to do anything, and you're not exactly inclined to ruin the one moment of peace he finally has for him.

What used to be a sanctuary of love and laughter and life, is now just an empty shell. Two people cohabiting in a desperate attempt to keep the flame kindled, huddling together for warmth.

You can feel it, and you know he can, too.

Things haven't gotten easier like he claimed. Your love hasn't dwindled one bit, but the media has only gotten more ferocious, even now hounding your workplace and regular haunts. You're practically confined within the walls of your home, either alone or with Minghao.

No more sunset dates. No more shared giggles under a blanket fort, no more pillow fights as he tackles you. No more late-afternoon cuddles as thin sunlight slants into the room. No more midnight instant noodle sessions. No more of anything. Silence overtakes, and the days drag by.

You know it's bubbling, the frustration, the anger at the media and at the world for being absolute busybodies, at Minghao (you don't know why), and at yourself.

And it's only a matter of time before it boils over.

You explode in the worst way possible.

It starts when Minghao comes home, looking even more tired than usual. You don’t even look up to greet him anymore as he trudges into the room, simply humming in acknowledgement. The spark in your eyes long gone, your smile feigned.

Perhaps those were the tell-tale signs of a relationship long gone. The spark wasn’t there. None of the previous joy you felt when he came home was there.

Were you falling out of love with him? ..No, that couldn’t be it. You knew you loved him for years, ever since you set eyes on him at an art museum, and you would always love him. Now, you just felt nothing but sadness when you saw him. If it wasn’t love, you would have only felt indifference.

None of you spoke about the reporters. It was like they didn't exist, only you knew it was the opposite, with them clamouring outside, with no reprieve. It was to the point where you had to lock every door and window for fear they would break in. Yet, both of you avoided the topic like a taboo, while it loomed over your bond like a dark cloud.

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t that you wanted this relationship to end, it was more like… you just knew it would.

What you had with Minghao would not end well. It would only end.

“Hey,” He speaks for the first time since coming home. “How was your day?”

“Nothing much,” You reply, and the kitchen goes silent.

He knew your day was nothing much. He knew why it was nothing much too. You couldn’t even go out without being mobbed by shouting reporters and blinding cameras. How well could your day have went?

“Dinner?” You ask, and he shrugs. “Sure.”

It was sad, really, you note, how quickly a conversation could end. So pitiful that a couple of over two years, who always never had enough to say to each other, had nothing to say now.

You finish dinner in silence, only the clinking of cutlery to fill in the vacancy of your voices.

After dinner he walks to the living room and you to your phone. You open up the three messages that have appeared to view them, but let out a shriek and throw your phone on the couch next to Minghao.

He raises his eyebrows at you in confusion and picks your phone up when you look back at him, eyes wide in panic.

His eyes widen the same way when he sees the graphic content of the message, the threat of the malicious sender reverberating through his mind.

“This— you…” He trails off.

“Is-is that a knife?!” You yelp. “This person just sent me a photo of a knife and threatened to kill me!”

“Baby, wait—” Minghao gets up and reaches for you, but you shrink back. “D-don’t.”

His jaw tightens as he registers the fact that you’re afraid of him. That a devil hiding behind a screen was enough to scare you away from him, the person who loved you to the ends of the earth.

“Okay.” He steps back. “Please…don’t be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Not you,” was your only whisper.

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“Not you,” You speak up, slightly louder than before. “Just… the fact that the rumour is out, the media at our door… we no longer have anything to say to each other… it hurts me beyond what you know.”

“I’m trying, love,” Minghao says, quietly.

“I know you are,” You reply. “Like I said, it’s not your fault.”

“But you’re hurt,” Minghao protests. “I’m hurt too, you know? I can’t even bring you out, let you live a normal life and be with you as I want. It’s not fair to me, either.”

“Nothing was fair from the moment the articles broke,” You reply softly, tears coming to your eyes. “That what we have is seen like…a mistake. A sin. That you, just loving someone, is the greatest wrongdoing. That reporters found the need to stay at our door just for pictures of us. That someone found the need to threaten to kill me.”

“That’s not fair,” Minghao protests again, tears welling up too. “You’re not the only one suffering here. I am too! My career, my relationship, all of that shoved into the limelight. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I don’t,” You answer. “I know I will never fully understand your situation. All I’m asking is…can’t we just—”

“Pretend nothing happened? Go on with this?” Minghao’s voice cracks. “You don’t want that. You do not. We can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask.

“Because nothing will ever be the same! Nothing we do can let us go back to before. You are hurt and stuck here, I am done for, we are now shackled here—”

“Shackled?” You ask quietly. “Is this what it is?”

“No, I—”

“I think I’ve known for a while,” You say. “That it’s not ‘if’ we will end, it’s when we will.”

“W-What?”

“There isn’t anything there anymore, Hao,” You throw your hands up. “Hell, we don’t even have anything to say to each other!”

“What can I say?! That my career is half ruined, my relationship dying away, my fans threatening to end us both?!”

You turn away, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “You should go, Minghao. I...I don’t want to keep you here if you don’t want to be. I'm so sorry...”

"Why won't you fight for us?" His voice is a deathly whisper.

"What?"

"Why... I know it's hard but... why-why are you giving up?"

"Giving up...?"

"You gave up on us." He breaks into a sob. "We don't talk because every time I look at you, I can't help but keep thinking about how much better your life could have been. You could go on sunset drives whenever you want. You could have spent night after night in blanket forts without a care in the damn world, without worrying that one day someone's going to break the door down and do something to you. You-"

"Thinking like that was always meaningless without you, Hao," You let out a humourless laugh. "All I wanted to do those things with was you."

"We can still do it all," He says, striding towards you. "I told you. I won't leave you."

"But you have to." You murmur back. "I've seen the reports. You're one of the highest-rising stars now. You're worlds away from where I am. And just being me, being bombarded with attention like this, attention I don't want, day in and day out, it... it suffocates me."

"So that's it?" He asks dejectedly. "You don't want me anymore?"

"I do want you, it's all I want," You try to gesture, try to tell him what you mean, but he shakes his head.

"You used to say that with so much life. Now... it's like a stranger telling me that." You look at him, eyes pleading, tears spilling over.

He takes a step back, eyes scanning you like it's the last time he'll see you. "I'm so, so sorry I put you through this. I-I'll go. I'll go now."

He comes forward and cups your face. He leans in, and kisses your forehead. The delicate action and gentleness of it all, combined with the salty tang of his tears, makes you tear up again.

“Say you remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe…”

You register the front door closing behind him. He’s gone, and God knows if he’ll ever return.

That night, you turn off the lights, make sure the windows are closed, but you leave the wooden door unlocked. You never locked it when he hadn’t come back.

You tuck yourself in, the way you like it, the way Minghao does it, and fall into a fitful sleep, the last words you uttered to each other ringing in your head.

When you wake up the next morning, Minghao hasn’t come back.

Something just tells you he won’t return this time.

“Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again…” The tinny sound from the aged record player plays, prompting you to hum along to the tune.

“XU MINGHAO, singer, makes record-breaking return to the stage, set to perform...”

“Three years on — where is XU MINGHAO’s mysterious ex-partner now?”

“Woman spotted outside his apartment — liar or lover?”

You close the papers.

You smile. He’s on top of the world, just like he dreamed.

And you… you were just here. Alone, but moderately content, and at peace.

The media had left you alone from the third week that Minghao didn’t return. They probably deemed you less newsworthy, you muse, as you pour yourself another cup of coffee.

You sip coffee as you sift through your mail. You pick up an envelope, and smile at your friend’s invitation to an awards ceremony. Knowing that you were a fan of one of the performing ballad singers, she, as part of the management team, had taken it upon herself to secure you a ticket.

You get up and stretch. It was time to go to the city.

"And now, winning the most prestigious award of the night, the Artist of the Year..." The announcer smiles, stage makeup bold and sparkling against the lights. She steals a look at the card in her hand, takes a deep breath.

"Xu Minghao!"

Your hand flies to your mouth as the big screen shows his face, smiling as he waves, bows, and walks to the stage. You don't look out of place, as just about every fangirl is doing the same. Tears come to your eyes and you blink them away.

He's just as dashing as ever. Decked in a smart suit and jacket to match, with small, sleek hoops in his ears, and lips curved in a charming smile, he accepts the award and addresses the crowd.

"I...I'm beyond honoured to stand here today," His eyes dart about, trying to capture every pair of eyes from his vision. "You know I owe just about everything to my fans, new and old, my family, and my friends who've been with me through everything."

He visibly swallows. "And there's one more person, one really, really special person I want to thank."

He stretches out his hand and smiles as if beckoning to someone, and a beautiful lady hesitantly steps up, dressed in a gorgeous champagne-coloured gown, soft curls in her hair, a bounce in her step.

"She saw me through the darkest period of my life," He says, clutching onto the lady's hand like a lifeline. "From strangers to friends, from friends to lovers, I want her to know she's my day one."

The cameras and fans go wild, everyone clamouring to get a better glimpse as the woman smiles at him, full of adoration like he once used to look at you, and they share an embrace on the stage, the host cutting in to sing praises of the newly hard-launched couple.

Meanwhile, you sit, rooted to your place, as you watch them. But it isn't overwhelming sadness that engulfs you. It isn't any form of bitterness or resentment. The sweet tang of pride, that he can now freely love, and gratitude, that his new love was doing what you failed to, rests on your tongue.

You rise to your feet. As you're in a row closer to the front, it isn't hard to get out. As you walk towards the exit, you glance back one last time, only to have shock rain down on you as he locks eyes with you from the stage.

The shock dies away swiftly, only to be replaced by soft joy. You smile slightly and nod at him once, with nothing but sincerity in your eyes, and watch the relief sag on his shoulders as he smiles and nods back. Even with no words shared, he knows you've both found your ending.

"Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah, huh..."

writer's note: first ever oneshot and this was...sad? but also i wrote this in one day and almost decided not to publish it because it was so rough lol

but please enjoy! any feedback and interactions are welcome :> thank you for reading!!

:((

Better Than Me | Part 24: Fractured

Summary: You and Seokmin have been dating for a few years, but now you're the star of a new drama with your co-star Rowoon, which makes Seokmin insecure. Seokmin tries his best to be supportive and understanding, but sometimes it's too much, and you're both unsure if your relationship can survive the jealousy and fights.

Main Masterlist ☜ previous chapter | current chapter | next chapter ☞ Taglist: @dkluvrsclub @wooahaeproductions @seokgyuu @stayinhellevator @aaniag @the-boy-meets-evil @hoeforhao @here4kpopfics @ressonancee @seungkwansphd @tomodachiii @shadowjellyfishfest @kyeomooniee @allmyl0ve17 @randomworker @gyuminusone @onlyseokmins @strawberryya @woozixo @meowmeowminnie @jeonghansshitester @gyuwoncheol @bitchlessdino @multi-kpop-fanfics @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @imprettyweird @shuasunshine @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @gyuhanniescarat @miriamxsworld @sexygrass @joonsytip @k-drama-adict @noiceoofed @buffhoshi @huening-kawaii @wonwoobestboyy @miniseokminnies @wonwoos-wineparty @notjinghanthesecond @christinewithluv @persnyako @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @morklee02 © wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.

i’m IN LOVE WITH THIS PLOT ASJDHEUCH

Band of Silver, Remember my Vow [Teaser]

Based on and inspired by the Sanskrit play, Sakuntala; or The Ring of Recollection, by Kālidāsa, which dramatizes the story of Sakuntala as told in the epic, the Mahābhārata

genres: romance, angst, past civilization au (set in a made up land inspired by joseon and influenced by other asian (and hints of european :/) cultures), subtle magic, not e2l just people who annoy each other at the start to people hopelessly in love w each other pairing: healer reader x lord scoups. platonic reader & soldier dino teaser word count: 2.2k estimated fic word count: ~15k teaser warnings: injury by weapon to an animal (hunting). animal attack. estimated fic warnings: descriptions of blood, injury, and illness. (possibly) sex but not smut. animal gore. notes: this was meant to be for caratlibrary's fall collaboration, but I flubbed it on the deadline (no surprise there!). I'm still not done, but I wanted to post this to see if people are as interested in the story as I am! I will not be making a requestable taglist, however I will be tagging people who comment/show interest in the tags of reblogs

In the story of Sakuntala, the king Dusyanta ends a hunting trip before he comes across the beautiful Sakuntala in a nearby hermitage. He is immediately captivated by her, courts her, and marries her soon after. However, he must return to his royal duties in the capital. He leaves his signet ring with her, promising to return. While distracted with her love for Dusyanta, Sakuntala forgets to greet a visiting and easily irritated sage. Angered by her disrespect, he curses her by making Dusyanta forget her existence. He is later convinced to lighten her punishment, and revises the curse so that the king will remember everything upon seeing the ring he left behind.

teaser under the cut!

The bowstring pulls taut as Seungcheol draws his arm back. His aim is unwavering— it better be, with all the years of training his breath to even at will, all those days spent shooting arrows at dyed targets and skittering rabbits. He kneels in the grass, still as a corpse, and waits for the stag to lift its head from where it’s dipped at the base of a tree.

Wait. Patience. That’s what he was taught.

Patience. Wait. Wait. Breathe.

But — air huffs through Seungcheol’s nose — why isn’t it lifting its damn head? The entire forest surrounding him is quiet. Nothing is here to disturb this perfect moment. This almost perfect moment.

Seungcheol fills his chest with air again, even and silent.

Wait. Patience. Breathe. Lift your damn—

“What are you doing?”

Startling at the sudden whisper in his ear, Seungcheol swerves to the side, his fingers slipping and releasing his arrow into the air. It slams into a tree, right where the stag’s neck would have been had it lifted its head. The sound echoes through the forest, and it spooks the stag. It dashes off out of sight, and Seungcheol curses under his breath.

“Why would you—” He whips his head around and finds you crouching next to him, a woven basket resting on your hip, held there by one hand. For only a moment, he is distracted by your face, and the way the sunlight, broken through the leaves of the forest, dances on your cheeks. He clears his throat. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

You blink and tilt your head. “What have I done?”

Abruptly, Seungcheol stands, gesturing his bow towards where the stag disappeared. “My— you…” He huffs, then looks away, returning the bow to its spot on his back and tearing off his gloves in muted frustration.

He came here for a distraction, but you are closer to an annoyance, albeit a not unattractive one. He prefers to lose himself in the concentration of the hunt.

As he moves to follow the deer, your voice stops him.

“Where are you from?”

When he turns, you’ve already stood up, and you regard him with slightly furrowed brows.

“You must be from rather far,” you say without giving him much chance to respond. “Were you planning on shooting him?”

“Him?” Seungcheol echoes. “You’re referring to that animal?”

You hum, nodding to yourself. “Rather far indeed. He may very well have been the patron spirit of these woods.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a terrible dishonour to harm an antlered one in this forest. A dishonour to what this place provides, and the vast life within it,” you explain, though the words mean nothing to Seungcheol. You step closer to him, tilting your body to peer at the quiver of arrows on his back. “You’d be a fool to attempt to kill one, and invite grand misfortune by doing so.”

His jaw clenches, and air comes out of his nose hot. “Who are you to call me a fool? Do you know who I am?”

You straighten. “Am I supposed to? You’re quite far from home.”

“I am Lord Choi Seungcheol,” he announces with pride, though it tastes of the arrogance his mother always tutted at on his tongue. “General of the Four Peak Soldiers, and— and future ruler of the Eastern District.”

You make a face, and it only makes the anger in Seungcheol burn hotter.

“A lord, huh?” you taunt. “Or a general. Which one is it? Or does it not matter?” Leaning back slightly, you study his face. “Certainly, it doesn’t matter to me. I am neither a Four Peak soldier, nor a citizen of the Eastern District, so I will say as I please. A fool is a fool.”

Seungcheol raises his hand, and you flinch, but only slightly. Your eyes remain firm on his.

He lowers his hand, tired of your presence and of having to listen. If he and you were in his district, you’d have serious punishment awaiting your next sunrise. However, he was out on his own, alone on a rogue, spontaneous hunting trip far away from home because he wanted some space to get his thoughts together. It’s something he’s done before, two or three or nine times. His mother shows contempt for this habit of his, but she does not try to stop him. All she asks is that he not bring home trouble.

You seem like trouble.

How was he supposed to know that the woods he ventured into had such trivial myths to abide by?

He is Choi Seungcheol, damn it. Your silly fairy tales won’t deter him.

Deciding to spare you this time, Seungcheol breathes out and turns away, walking now in the direction of where he tied his horse. Perhaps this trip was a failure. To expect to clear his head the same way he has done before was foolish — though he would never admit that. What is on his mind now is much heavier, much more inevitable than the other things he would run away from in his youth.

A marriage to the country’s princess.

His marriage to her.

Seungcheol’s hands twitch, and he yearns to draw his bow again.

“Lord General,” you call out, the tone of your voice itself a warning. “Don’t be a fool.”

He ignores you.

=

Ricecake seems to have had a much better experience in this forest than Seungcheol. He finds her munching on the lush, untrodden grass, and he almost feels bad for interrupting her meal. However, that feeling lessens when he remembers that if he were successful in his hunt, she'd have to carry the spoils all the way home. At least she has that.

Seungcheol rides for not half an hour, following the river, before another stag dashes alongside his path. He spends no time thinking. Pulling his bow from his shoulder, he notches an arrow and lets it fly. A second arrow leaves his fingers before he blinks.

The stag rears on its hind legs, one arrow in its thick neck and one pierced directly through its eye. It shrieks, haunted and low.

But it does not fall.

Seungcheol dismounts from his horse and draws another arrow, aiming again for its neck so it cannot escape far before it dies. He expects it to run in the opposite direction.

Its hooves dig into the dirt beneath it, and the stag charges towards Seungcheol.

He has no time to react, his arms moving instinctually to protect his head, before pain blooms fiery red from his torso. An icy cold engulfs him, and everything goes dark.

=

Pain is what wakes him up, dull and aching, but when he attempts to right himself, Seungcheol winces. A fierce pang rings in his body from his stomach to his right ear, which sparks a jolt of pain throughout his head. He falls back again, though his head doesn’t hit the hard earth. Instead, a steady hand catches his head, and another gently touches the front of his shoulder, as if to calm him.

“Easy there, Lord General.”

Your voice, and the way you patronise his titles again, make Seungcheol frown. It hurts to breathe, but he can’t help the annoyance that refills within him. What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow him? Why are your hands so gentle?

Though his headache may worsen with sunlight, Seungcheol pries his eyes open. His eyelids are heavy, and for a moment, he thinks he must not have opened them fully. He can barely see you, even though it was midday when he’d been knocked unconscious. It then registers that he is no longer outside, in the woods, but in a room, lowly lit with sparsely strewn candles.

The realisation makes him want to jump up again, but the pain in his torso forces a groan from him, and he falls back onto the support of your hand. He strains his head to assess his surroundings. “Where am I?” he grits out. It hurts to speak.

“Be careful,” you say, concern sewn into your brows. “You may have broken your ribs.”

He demands, though perhaps sounding weaker than he likes, “Answer the question.”

Your lips settle into a straight line, and you breathe out through your nose. “You’re in my home.”

“Why?”

“I found you nearby,” you begin to explain, pulling your hand out from under him to cross your arms. He feels a thin layer of folded cloth under his head. “You were washed up on the riverbank, unconscious. Bloody…bruised…” You tilt your head. “Perhaps even more bruised now, since I practically had to drag you here, though the balm should help with the scrapes.”

“Balm?” Seungcheol echoes. Now that he thinks about it, there is a strange warmth seeping through the skin on his face. “You’re a healer,” he concludes.

You nod, and for the first time, Seungcheol sees a smile on your lips. In the candlelight, it only adds to the warmth.

“You’re lucky it was me who found you. Who knows how long you were lying in the cold water.” You sit back, eyes thoughtfully gazing over Seungcheol’s blanket-covered body. They pause around where Seungcheol’s left hand is. “I was able to save almost all your fingers.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen, and he jerks his hands out from under the blanket to hold above his face. The pain this causes is in the background compared to his panic, but that fades soon after he sees all ten fingers, wiggles them, then glares at you.

You’re smiling wider now. “That was a joke, Lord General.” At his glare sharpening, you let out a small laugh. “Your fingers are fine. They might be stiff for a few days, though.” Your expression shifts to a more serious one. “Your ribs, on the other hand… You’re severely bruised. I suspect they may be fractured.

Breathing in again, Seungcheol watches the way you eye his chest as it rises and falls. It hurts like a bonfire has sparked in his lungs.

“What happened?” you ask, no residual hint of playfulness in the simple question.

“I…” In the back of his mind, Seungcheol sees the stag again, sees the blood rivering from its eye and neck, sees its antlers as they bouldered into him. He sees you, and how you spoke to him in the forest. An enchantingly bright bad omen.

Don’t be a fool.

Yet here he is, under your care in your home, for doing the very thing you warned him not to.

"...I fell," he says after a moment of quiet. It’s only a half-lie. He did fall, even if that wasn’t how he sustained the injuries to his ribs.

One of your eyebrows rises up your forehead. “You fell.”

“...Yes.”

You hum, doubtful. “Off your horse, I assume. I’ve seen similar bruising and fractures when people are kicked. It happens to someone around here at least once a year; there’s no shame in getting unsaddled.”

He’s never fallen off Ricecake — she’s the perfect companion, but Seungcheol grits his teeth and says, “I suppose there’s not.”

A triumphant grin appears on your face, and you turn slightly to reach for a small notebook. “Well, Lord General—”

“That is not my title,” he interrupts on principle, though he instantly regrets it with the waking pain in his chest. Still, he cannot stop himself from correcting you. “You will address me as Lord Choi, or ‘my Lord’.”

Your eyes don’t leave your notes. “Alright Lord General, it—”

“You can’t—”

“—is my professional opinion that you should be on bed rest for three days, though your full recovery could take two to three moons. I’ll need to monitor your breathing until it regulates.” You speak as if Seungcheol is just anyone, not someone with power or higher standing. To you, he is just a patient.

Why does that thought not continue to anger him?

“I need to find my horse,” he tells you. “There are healers in the Four Peak fortress that can oversee my recovery.”

You shake your head. “Riding is out of the question. It will only worsen your condition.”

“I can’t stay here. I am needed as their leader.” And his mother is going to kill him for being gone more than a few days without a word.

“Do you have a palanquin?”

Seungcheol frowns. “Do I look like I have a palanquin with me?”

“Could you send for one?” you rephrase.

He ponders on that. It is rare for him to ride a palanquin, even back home. The cart is used more decoratively these days, reserved for events like longevity parades through the city, and no longer for extended trips over uneven ground like the forests he travelled through to find himself on your land. 

Still, he can’t stay here. Certainly not for three moons. “I’ll write a missive.”

“Alright,” you say with a nod. “There’s a merchant group that travels every two weeks between here and a city in the Eastern District. You can send it with one of them.”

“When are they travelling next?”

“You’re lucky, Lord General. They leave for the east in five days.”

Not as soon as he’d like, but at least the merchants hadn’t just left. Then he would have to stay here for one full moon before he’d even be able to send for help.

“For now,” you continue, “you should rest. It’s late, and your body needs time to recover.”

do not send an ask/reply just asking to be on a taglist!! I will only be tagging people who reblog and comment in the tags!!

while i'm still working on the homcha fic, would any of you like if i did short bonus chapters for 'all's fair in love and law'? honestly just a random suggestion hahahah

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ (𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫)

🌼summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼pairing: wonwoo x reader

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

🌼est. feb 2024!

🌼character intros to be posted on sunday, 28 january 2024!

🌼 do note that while i am using some iconic parts of the drama, some details are changed to fit my storyline! there will be certain similarities but also slight changes, but the overarching idea is the same :>

"You're prickly and bad-tempered, and-"

"Don't finish that."

"Our encounter was never bad to me. I saw sadness behind your shell, and I wondered about it. My attention was always drawn to you, but I never thought I'd fall like this."

"I remembered you because I hated you at first. I admit that. But in the time I've gotten to know you, somehow, my every recollection of you is only filled with joy. You are the best part of this summer."

writer's note: I AM SO EXCITED YOU HAVE NO IDEA 😭 CHARACTER INTROS ARE OUT SOOOONNN!!!

the taglist for 'this summer' is open!! let me know if you want to be added :>