mafia wooyoung fic where he mistreated his arranged wife until she was kidnapped WHERE DID YOU GO AND WHY CAN’T I FIND YOU AGAIN SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME
Summary: Having to work with Wooyoung while your marriage is crumbling is frustrating. He’s a cocky brat and barely completes what he needs to. But when you find out your husband cheated on you, Wooyoung proves his worth in another way.
Genre and warnings: smut. age gap (within legal boundaries). bratty dom!wooyoung with older sub!reader. mommy kink, reader is called “mommy”. fem pronouns for reader. rough sex including face fucking, use of handcuffs, spanking, slapping, mild choking and overstimulation all done to the reader. dirty talk. unprotected sex. aftercare. reader is married so cheating but the husband is an asshole if that helps. fem pronouns. (lemme know if i missed anything)
Word count: 6,743.
this fic is not meant to represent wooyoung in any way, shape or form.
Night One.
Wooyoung is late.
Twenty minutes late, to be exact. You shouldn’t be so annoyed because you were expecting it. But the irritation is building as you bounce your leg up and down impatiently sitting on your couch.
At this point, your disdain for your boss is at a record high. Wooyoung shouldn’t have been hired at the company and he definitely shouldn’t have been put on this project with you. If it weren’t for the fact he was the CEO’s son, he would be working a dead end job somewhere. It wasn’t just Wooyoung being younger than you that made him so annoying. It was that he knew he only got the job because of nepotism and walked around the office like he owned the place. His shit eating grin and confident swagger grinded your every nerve. He never did any work, took credit and then would brag about it later.
warnings: dirty talk, spit kink, dom! wooyoung, sub! reader, swearing, choking, rough/angry sex, hand kink, brat taming, bratty! reader, mommy kink, sir kink, praise kink, degrading kink, mentions of yunho.
a/n: repost bc my acc was deleted <33 also if anyone even sees this please send requests of any ateez smuts bc im super super bored and i enjoy writing a lot! :D please include any kinks you’d like me to add to the story and even threesomes, bxb or poly relationships! im honestly open to anything! love all of u guys <33 - melon
Bestfriend!Wooyoung got up earlier than usual just to make some soup, knowing you would have a terrible hangover due to the New Year’s eve party you both went to last night. When you sat at the dining table to drink the soup he made, you noticed how he was smirking.
“What?” you asked before you could take a sip, suspiciously eyeing him and then the soup. “You didn’t put something in this, did you?” He chuckled, shaking his head in response. “I don’t believe you, Woo.”
Wooyoung snorted before taking a spoon of the soup and drinking it. “See? I promise it’s totally fine.” You tried it yourself and it tasted amazing, so you continued having it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked Wooyoung who was smirking at you again. “What’s running on that mind of yours, Woo?” you questioned, taking a spoon of the soup.
“You,” he answered. “And your little drunk confession. I didn’t know you loved me that much, Y/N,” he teased and you nearly choked on your soup.
“W-What do you mean?” you asked, cheeks turning a shade of pink. Wooyoung grabbed his phone from the table, playing a video and handing his phone to you with a big grin.
“Jung Wooyoung, you irresistible, hot man!” drunk you yelled, standing on a table. All the guys were watching you, and Seonghwa and Yunho stood down beside you, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the table. “I love you! I’m so in love with you, Jung Wooyoung!” Some of the boys cheered and whistled while Wooyoung had the biggest smile on his face, his heart racing from your confession.
“Oh my god!” you groaned in embarrassment, avoiding looking at Wooyoung. He snorted, cupping your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
“I love you too, Y/N,” he murmured, making your heart pound rapidly, before leaning down to kiss you, smiling against your lips when you kissed him back.
Wooyoung pulled away after a while, resting his forehead against yours. “Happy New Year, my love.”
-
Happy New Year everyone! I hope y'all have a safe, beautiful, and amazing year ahead. ❤
Warnings: Profanities, death by magic, making out.
Using a vine, you tied the last aconitum to a tree which was a few meters away from your cottage. You chanted a spell on it, enhancing its scent that fortunately did not have any effects on your species.
You have been doing this everyday before twilight to keep a new pack of rogue wolves away from you. You don’t know how they managed to find you, considering you lived only a kilometer away from another pack that had a strong reputation. But they were rogue wolves, after all: they didn’t care about another pack’s territory.
Proceeding back to your house, you immediately washed your hands with some fenugreek water. You took off your raven-black cloak, draping it on a wooden chair. You made your way over to one of your cauldrons, expecting to see the beautiful blue color of the potion you were brewing for a goblin in exchange of some seeds of an extremely rare plant.
Carefully lifting the heavy lid off the hot pot, you frowned at the pink hue of the liquid, wondering where you went wrong. You tried to recall every single step you made.
“Shit, I forgot to add delphinium!” you groaned, running to your storage room to get the flowers. Unfortunately, you ran out of it. You sighed in frustration, realizing your potion would spoil if you didn’t add the flowers in the next two hours.
You quickly lit the candle of a lantern before wearing your cloak. You grabbed a straw basket and put your shoes on. You had to get into the nearby pack’s territory to get the flowers and you hoped you wouldn’t run into any trouble tonight with the werewolves.
You carefully made your way through the forest, wary of your surroundings. You have never gone out after dusk to collect any supplies. It was really dangerous for you to leave home at such a time, especially when there were rogue wolves seeking to kill you. Even though you had enough magic within you to kill a werewolf, you were no match for a pack.
You traversed through the forest, coming to a small meadow in the middle of it. You looked around for the delphinium, delighted to find it faster than you expected. You took a knife from your pocket to cut the stem of the plant, placing the flowers in your basket.
A snap of a branch caught your attention, and you quickly whipped around to the source. You could make out two large figures in the distance, their yellow eyes glowing in the dark while they leered at you.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. When you saw them coming closer to you, you started to run once you realized they were rogue wolves. You could use a spell to set them on fire, but you needed to be in an open space with no trees around as the fire could spread.
You ran as fast as you could, dashing through plants and leeping over small streams, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You mentally cursed yourself when you saw the Ateez pack houses in the distance, realizing you ran in the opposite direction from your cottage. You kept running anyway until you reached the open area where the pack was, already on high alert. Three of them in their wolf forms, ready to attack any creature that poses a threat to them.
You swiftly turned around, chanting a spell that set the two rogue wolves on fire before they could reach you. The wolves howled and whimpered loudly while they burned, meeting their death in just a few minutes, leaving only their bones and ashes.
You fell to the ground, trying to calm down your heavy breathing. Certain spells such as this one really drained your energy.
“You have violated the territory rules, witch,” you heard one of the wolves from the Ateez pack say. Glancing around, you noticed that you seemed to have interrupted their bonfire party.
“I had no choice and you know it,” you said, glaring at one of the omegas of the pack while trying to get up. Your arm was burning, and you pushed your cloak aside, revealing a large cut that you must’ve gotten from running through the plants. You were too drained to chant another spell to heal yourself.
You could feel a light tug at your heart, pulling you in a certain direction. You turned to see another werewolf who was staring at you with an unreadable expression, a female wolf seated on his lap. Your heart instantly filled with hurt and anger. You weren’t naive; you could tell you were the wolf’s mate. Although you have heard of cases where a werewolf had a mate of a different species, you certainly weren’t expecting that to be your case. You wouldn’t admit it, but a part of you was thrilled to find your mate. However, you were sure he didn’t feel the same way; he would never accept a witch as his mate.
“I asked you something, witch,” you heard the alpha say, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You turned to look at the alpha of Ateez’s pack. “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”
“Are you deaf? I asked why you trespassed into my pack’s territory.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you blind, mutt?” The werewolves in their wolf forms growled at the way you addressed their alpha, but you ignored them. “I just got chased by some rogue wolves. You claim that half of the forest belongs to your pack, but you can’t even get rid of the rogues. At this point, I might just do your job for you,” you said, pointing to the ash and bones of the two rogue wolves you killed. You knew the wolves would hate to hear how you managed to do something they were struggling to do. After all, they hated your kind with every fibre of their being.
“Mind your words when you speak to us, witch,” the beta stated, voice laced with venom. You only rolled your eyes in response, picking up your basket that slipped from your hands. You pulled the hood of your cloak lower and bowed to the pack. You took one last look at your… mate. He’s stunning, was all you thought before proceeding to go back to your cottage, hoping deep-down that you’d see him again.
“What’s up with you, bro?” San asked his bestfriend, plopping down beside him and Yunho on the couch. “You’ve been… different this past week. I’ve never seen you this quiet.”
Wooyoung sighed, knowing he couldn’t keep a secret anymore from his packmates. “The witch…”
“What about her?” Yunho questioned.
Wooyoung gulped, fiddling with his fingers. “Well, she’s my mate.” Both San and Yunho’s eyes widened while they stared at Wooyoung like as if he was like an alien.
“What are you gonna do?” Jongho asked, joining the conversation.
“Reject her, of course,” Wooyoung replied, his wolf screaming at him but he ignored it. “I don’t believe in the whole mate thing, you all know that. Besides, I’m content with hooking up with Chae.”
The wolves didn’t comment on it, knowing Wooyoung wouldn’t agree with the fact that the moon goddess personally chose a witch for him; he refused to believe in such things. The boys could only hope he would make a smart decision before it’s too late.
“That’s unfair for the witch though,” San mumbled, genuinely concerned for you.
Wooyoung shrugged. “She could make a potion or something to forget about me, but I’m sure she wouldn’t accept me as a mate either. Anyway…” he got up from the couch, stretching his arms out. “I’m going for a run. Anyone coming?”
“I’ll pass,” Jongho said.
San shook his head. “Me too. I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll come,” Yunho said with a small smile. “It’s been a while.”
The two boys made their way to the forest, quickly stripping out of their clothes before shifting into their wolf form.
“Wanna race till the territory borders? I know you’ll lose anyway,” Wooyoung challenged Yunho through their mind link.
“Oh you’re on!” Yunho growled playfully in response, albeit he knew the younger wolf was right. Wooyoung was the fastest runner in the pack.
The two wolves took off into the woods, dashing through giant leaves and jumping over large logs. Yunho pushed Wooyoung to the side, making the smaller wolf lose his balance. He quickly got up, chasing after the older wolf.
Their heightened senses allowed them to smell different flowers and trees, and Wooyoung found himself enjoying a certain scent that he knew he shouldn’t be enjoying. He could also smell something unfamiliar mixed with his mate’s scent, and he could immediately tell it belonged to a wizard. Without him realizing, he started following his mate’s scent, crossing his pack’s territory borders despite Yunho’s protests.
“Wooyoung, stop! There are rogue wolves! You’ll get killed!” Yunho yelled through the mind link. But Wooyoung couldn’t stop until he saw you.
He sprinted even faster, your scent getting stronger and stronger. He stopped right in front of your cottage, spotting you just a few feet away, an orb of fire above your palm, ready to attack. The wizard beside you had an arm wrapped around your waist protectively, causing Wooyoung to growl loudly, jealousy and anger clouding his mind.
The familiar scent of your mate made your fire orb disappear. Another wolf that was bigger than your mate appeared. The wolf glanced at you before nudging at the smaller one to leave.
“Are you fucking serious, Woo?” Yunho yelled at the younger wolf. “Alpha is gonna kill us. We have to go now.”
Wooyoung only growled and glared at the wizard. “Get your hands off my mate!”
“He can’t hear you,” Yunho said. “Let's—”
“Then maybe I should show him!” He charged at the wizard.
“Wooyoung, no!” Yunho yelled.
The wizard hit Wooyoung in the stomach with his staff, instantly knocking out the wolf due to the magic laced on it. You were positive he would have some broken bones, knowing how powerful staffs are.
Yunho whimpered, nudging his unconscious packmate, fear evident in his eyes. He knew his packmate was still alive, but he couldn’t tell what was happening to him or if he was silently dying. He couldn’t take Wooyoung back to their pack if he didn’t change back into his human form.
Sensing the older wolf’s fear, you carefully moved towards him. “He’s not dead,” you spoke in the softest voice you could muster. “He’s just unconscious due to the magic and may have some broken bones.”
“He deserved it,” Sejin, the wizard, said. “Your alpha should train him better.” Yunho lowered his head in apology, clearly embarrassed.
Sejin turned to you. “I must take my leave now, Y/N. Will you be all right alone with these mutts?”
“Yes, I will be. Don’t worry,” you said with a smile. Sejin nodded, pulling you into a quick hug before he started his journey back to his own cottage.
You kneeled beside your mate’s unconscious wolf, gently stroking his fur. Yunho wanted to change back to talk to you, but he didn’t have any clothes.
“How are you going to take him back?” you asked Yunho. He whimpered in response, reminding you that he couldn’t communicate with you in his wolf form. “Oh! I’m sorry. Um… do you want to change back to your human form?” you asked and he moved his head up and down. “Okay… I could give you some shorts. Is that all right?” When he nodded again, you quickly ran inside your cottage, finding a pair of your khaki shorts. You chanted a spell on it to make it bigger for the wolf.
You went back outside, giving the shorts to the wolf. He moved behind a tree to change, coming back a minute later.
“I’m extremely sorry about that,” Yunho said, scratching his nape. “I don’t know what got into him.”
“It’s okay,” you said. “How do you plan on taking him back to your pack?”
“I can’t unless he changes back,” Yunho sighed. “I’ll also need to call my pack here to take him.”
“Do whatever you must,” you said. “I will give you some rosemary. It will help him gain consciousness.”
Yunho nodded and you went into your cottage to bring some rosemary. Taking out a small amount from the jar, you proceeded back to the wolves. You kneeled beside your mate, holding the rosemary above his snout. You chanted a small spell, enhancing its scent. The wolf’s ear twitched before he stirred, eyes slowing opening. He whimpered out in pain, eyes filling with tears.
“Wooyoung, you have to change,” Yunho urged. “I can’t take you home in your wolf form.” The wolf huffed in pain, trying his best to change back.
Once he was able to change back, he groaned in pain. “I think my ribs are fucking broken.” You looked away from his naked form.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Yunho muttered before turning to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I must change and call my pack here to help take him home.”
You nodded, sparing one last glance at your mate before going back inside your cottage.
Stirring a new potion you made, you scooped the bright yellow liquid onto your ladle, carefully transferring it into a glass bottle.
You heard a knock at your door. You placed the ladle on the table before making your way to the door. When you opened it, you weren’t expecting to see your werewolf mate standing there shirtless. It has been two weeks since you last saw him and you were certain his broken ribs would’ve healed by now.
“What are you doing here?” you questioned, trying not to look at his toned upper half.
“I had to see you before I go insane,” he sighed, making your heart race. “Can I come in?”
You moved aside, letting him in. You closed the door, moving to sit on the leather sofa, your mate following your actions while he glanced around in awe. You waited for him to talk first, but he only stared at you. Wooyoung couldn’t help but be stunned by how beautiful you are.
You gently cleared your throat. “So… how are you now?”
“I’m better now,” he replied. “Your boyfriend broke three of my ribs.”
You snorted. “My boyfriend?”
“The wizard who broke my ribs.”
“Yeah, I know who you mean,” you remarked. “But he isn’t my boyfriend.”
Wooyoung’s wolf was thrilled with the news. “Didn’t seem like that though,” he murmured but you heard him.
You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that’s your problem anyway.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “It is. You’re my mate.”
“Hmm… doesn’t seem like that. Wasn’t your tongue down some poor human’s throat two nights ago?”
Wooyoung gulped, eyes wide, his wolf cursing him. “H-How did you know?”
You chuckled, not really amused. “There are fairies around, you know? They watch everything.”
“I did that to forget you,” Wooyoung confessed, fiddling with his fingers. “I… couldn’t handle seeing you with that wizard. He had his hands on you that day and my wolf just lost it. And I thought you were with him so…” You could see the genuineness in his citrine-colored eyes.
“What about that wolf who was on your lap then?” you questioned.
“I occasionally hook up with her,” he said honestly. “I actually didn’t believe in the whole mate chosen by the moon goddess thing until I met you. But she did. She just has her fun with me, but she knows one day she’ll find her mate and will instantly forget about me… just like how I forgot about her the moment I saw you.”
You sat in silence, taking in his words, contemplating on what to do. You weren’t a child of the moon like your mate, but surely the moon goddess considers you as one if she chose you as her child’s mate. She never chooses wrong.
“So if I accept you as my mate, what is your plan?” you questioned.
Wooyoung’s face immediately lit up. “I’ll let you choose. You can live with me or I can live with you. I already spoke to my pack and they’re more than willing to accept you.”
You shook your head. “You’re an omega, right? You shouldn’t be separated from your pack. I can’t leave my house either cause of my work. So how about we just meet each other whenever we have time?”
Wooyoung pouted. “But I wanna see you everyday from when the sun rises to when the moon sets.” Your heartbeat sped up rapidly.
“That’s twenty-four seven,” you murmured, cheeks turning pink.
Wooyoung smirked. “Exactly.”
The next two weeks were spent in moving your belongings to Ateez’s pack houses. Since every member of the pack had their own house, there was plenty of space for you. Wooyoung even had a large basement which he converted into a workspace for you. The other pack members helped move your herbs and plants too.
After arranging all your jars in your new workspace, you made your way upstairs. This was your first day living with your mate. The wolf was ecstatic, filled with more energy than usual. He was a ball of sunshine, but also a major tease. He was well aware of the effect he has on you. You knew he knew you wanted him badly, and that’s why he only teased you, wanting you to make the first move.
Wooyoung was lying down on the couch, engrossed in reading one of your spellbooks. You quietly made your way towards him, but the faint sound of your footsteps caught his attention.
Wooyoung stretched an arm out. “Come lie down with me.” You obeyed him, cheeks turning pink while you cuddled up to his side, burying your face in his neck, inhaling his wonderful scent.
After a while, you brushed your lips against Wooyoung’s neck, placing a light kiss on his skin. You heard him inhale sharply when you gently sucked on his skin. He tossed the book onto the table, wrapping an arm around you. He lifted you onto his body, and you adjusted yourself so as to straddle his lap.
Wooyoung smirked. “What are you doing, baby?” Your body tingled with the way he called you that.
You leaned down, brushing your lips against his before placing a small kiss on his lips. You pulled away, trying to get off him, but he grabbed your hips, pulling you down onto his growing bulge, making you bite your lip.
“You can’t tease me like that and leave,” he playfully growled, hands moving to grab the exposed skin of your thighs as your dress had moved up.
You narrowed your eyes. “Well, that’s what you’ve been doing to me for two weeks.”
He licked his lips. “Yeah, and?” His hands moved up on your thighs.
“And that’s not f-fair,” you stuttered at the end as his hands moved to your inner thighs, so close to your core. You could already feel your panties sticking to your wettening folds.
Wooyoung took a deep breath. “You smell incredible right now. So eager for me…” you blushed, remembering wolves could smell their mate’s arousal the best.
You leaned down, finally connecting your lips to your mate’s. Wooyoung kissed you back just as eagerly, unable to hold himself back anymore; he had been waiting for you to make the first move so that he knew you were comfortable with him.
You involuntarily grinded on his hardening bulge, causing him to groan in pleasure. His hands moved to grab your ass, moving you back and forth on him in a rapid pace. Your hand slipped under his shirt, and Wooyoung pulled away, one of hands stopping you from touching him.
“Y/N, are you a hundred percent sure you want this?” Wooyoung asked in a soft tone, albeit his wolf was begging him to mark you. “It hasn’t been long since we met and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.”
“I want this, Woo,” you replied immediately. “I want you.”
That was enough for Wooyoung to reconnect your lips, smiling while he kissed you, ready to officially mark you as his.
✁ genre: dystopian au, elemental au, angst, fluff, soulmate au, slight strangers/enemies to lovers warnings: lots of fire mentioned, semi-major character death, fires, attempted major character death, temporary amnesia rating: 16+
✁ wc: 8.7k
✁ plot: you were constantly on fire under his burning gaze, ironically while being in a fire kingdom. behind his intense gaze, however, was someone that you used to know, the same person that was supposed to be your soulmate that the universe had gifted you with; but instead stood a person filled with ashes and hatred for you.
✁ a/n: hii guys!! here i present the wooyoung version of my fic (babylon)’s sequel!! again i hope you guys liked this as much as i did, and if you would like to read the original/sunwoo version of this fic, it’ll be linked under this very text box!! thank you again~
He was the fire that was able to ignite an entire kingdom full of ashes; one touch and everybody would crumble to his feet. At least that was how you remembered him.
“Wooyoung’s alive. He’s been hidden for a while now, but he’s alive. We have to go find him now.”
San’s words have echoed in your ear for days on end since then, up until this very moment where you had been sitting in front of the television facing towards you. Your eyes never tore away from the screen, creating a burning sensation that stung the corners of your vision as you struggled to blink because of how restless you’d been feeling.
It was the middle of January that you found yourself somehow in the middle of a kingdom that produced nothing but heat, making you wonder how it was even remotely possible in the first place. The entire idea of it seemed unrealistic, but the longer that you’d been in this fiery environment with nothing to do, you were hit with the harsh truth as you realized that you hadn’t planned to find him.
You remember your first day entering what you have learned to be named, Ignatius, the kingdom that was built from the ground up by a man wielding fire powers. The rumors of him coming from the heavens; to his origins from hell were constantly spread, but no one had ever seen what he had looked like because of his hidden identity; only his name.
“Y/N, are you okay? You haven’t blinked in a while.” You hear someone call out to you, making you do the said action as you turned your head over to where San had been staring at you worriedly.
The poor boy had been with you all this time, watching as you had been beating yourself over the fact that you had lost Wooyoung for years now, only to learn that he had been alive all this time. He felt guilty towards himself, in a way, for withholding that information from you, but it was better that way due to the promise that he made to the younger before everything had gone downhill.
“Yeah, I’m okay. How long have I been zoning out?” You mumbled, raising your hand towards your eyes to ease the burning sensation. The sound of San clearing his throat before speaking up again made you feel uneasy for some reason, but you disregarded it as you were out of it at the moment.
“Don’t worry about how long you’ve been zoning out. Can you turn the tv volume up a bit?” He asks quietly and you nod in response as you grab the remote to do so, feeling his presence beside you as he decides to sit on the couch to see what had been on the tv while you were spacing out.
‘Breaking news. Our ruler, Jung Wooyoung, has called for an emergency meeting in the Ignatius Fire Palace with his right-hand man and chamber. We have no information on what was discussed at the meeting, but we do have a public statement from the fire king for the first time since the beginnings of the kingdom itself, as this is his first official sighting. Here is what he has stated.’
Your heart drops at the sight of Wooyoung suddenly appearing on the television screen, all color from your face draining as your throat becomes dry just looking at him and his matured looks. It hits you all at once with the realization that he was still alive, but there was something different in his eyes as the camera panned over to his stern face that can only show nothing but a solemn and powerful presence.
It was as though he was a robot, rather than the same human that you had fallen in love with years ago.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m your fire king, Jung Wooyoung. As you may have known, this is my first public appearance. I have called this public announcement to be aired soon to inform you all that something will be planned soon for the future of the kingdom, and whether or not you will join me is entirely up to you,” He says into the microphone with such poise, that you couldn’t even recognize who this new Wooyoung was.
It felt foreign to you.
“There are consequences for actions, as our motto may state, as there are eyes everywhere to watch your every move. You’ll find out soon, in time, who I truly am with my actions. And with that, goodnight everyone.”
The tv shuts off as the last image of his slight smirk at the end of his sentence haunts your brain as you were trying to process what had happened in the last five minutes of your time. He was alive and he was out there somehow still doing something that you had yet to know of, along with the potential of him remembering anything before the big accident that must’ve caused his powers to happen in the first place.
Tears brim at the corner of your eyes just thinking about the incident from years ago, making you wonder what things would’ve been like if it never happened in the first place. You were supposed to be with your soulmate, living happily as normal individuals, but instead of that you had to live in the tragedy that the rough reality was giving you now. There weren’t any more status rankings in class, but there was still the unsettling feeling of loss and heartache that resided in your heart the longer that you weren’t with him.
“I talked to him today, as they mentioned earlier,” San speaks up once again, making you veer around to look at him with a small smile as you motioned for him to go on, but you couldn’t help but feel as though life had been unfair to you right now.
“He has had selective amnesia, Y/N… for years now. When I asked him about you, he didn’t remember anything about you, but somehow he still remembers the others and me since I first found him again.”
Nodding in response, there’s a small breath that escapes your lips as you try not to feel emotional or irrational because of what he had just informed you. Wooyoung has no recollection of who you were, which meant that he doesn’t even remember the fact that you were both bonded as soulmates.
“Then why am I here, San? Why did you bring me here, if not to suffer by not being with him, if he doesn’t even remember anything about me at all?” You ask him, wanting to know the answers to all the questions that you have been holding back out of fear of what those answers will be and how much more hurt you’d be from them.
“He, I think, would want to meet you, or at least is willing to get to know you again,” He points out, trying to at least be hopeful in the situation and you give him a small smile as he tries to comfort you by pulling you into a warm hug.
“The two of you can rebuild what you had back then, and we can start that by going to the fire palace tomorrow.”
You raise your eyebrows at him wondering where he had this idea in the first place, or how long he must’ve conspired the plan, knowing that despite his position in Wooyoung’s inner circle, you were going to be the talk of the kingdom. You were simply a stranger to all of them, and no one, but San, knew who you were. You were about to walk into what seemed like another world, a world in which you had no place being.
It was practically like walking into a lion’s den with meat rung around your neck, but worse because everything and everywhere was somehow connected to fire.
“Fine. Let’s go in the morning after our market run, but any funny business and I’m going back here to pass away.” You say with a sarcastic tone as you look at him, feeling a small flick against your forehead as a small laugh escapes your lips.
“Yeah, yeah, you dramatic baby. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
Everything was absolutely notokay.
You stood outside of the Ignatius Palace with sweaty palms, your blood running cold as reality was slowly hitting you and your stomach churns at the thoughts of what might possibly happen today. The next few moments felt as though it was unfolding right in front of you in slow motion, and you didn’t want anything to start yet. Were you even ready to face what you had been desiring to see these last few years of being away from the world?
“You ready, Y/N? He’s inside waiting.”
Your hand was unknowingly hovering over the door knob, mind unsure as to why you were hesitating when you have been waiting all these years to see him again. Were you scared of the fact that something bad was going to happen, or that you were setting yourself up for an outcome so bad that you should have never been here in the first place?
Turning around to look at San, who had been giving you a small smile this whole time to reassure your emotions, you could feel everything weighing down on your hand as you weren’t sure where to even begin to place everything together. All because of the barrier between you and whatever was behind this door.
Would he be the same person that you knew?
Once you opened the door, you quietly stepped in to see a more grand version of a castle that you never could’ve imagined creating. In contrast to the actual environment that was outside, you were greeted with cool air, like air conditioning, as you took every small step closer to what you assumed was the foyer.
Eyes scanning across the walls and decor, there was another path from the entrance that you noticed had led to another room. The moment you step in, however, causes you to feel regret that you did so; tears were pricking your eyes and your heart seemed to beat out of your chest, unsure as to how you were going to keep your composure now.
Every single emotion that you have concealed overtime suddenly began to spill out for you to expose, making your breathing heavier and wavering the more that you kept your eyes on the portraits that were openly displayed on the walls. Each and every frame held a pristine name in a plaque of the boys that you were once friends with; the very same ones that had sacrificed their lives the day that you had been taken in by the soldiers back home and given the chance to win at survival at the expense of theirs.
“They’re realistic, aren’t they?”
The sudden voice that enters the room sends shivers down your spine, the smoothness of it allowing for goosebumps to prick your skin, but you refuse to turn around. You could already feel his warm presence standing beside you as the two of you had been standing in front of one of the portraits, one that you recognized as Hongjoong’s while all the memories you had with him had also resurfaced into your mind.
“It was hard to get these painted, since there weren’t many printed pictures of them all,” He remarks before turning to you and you notice how the moment that you both had locked eyes, everything felt different.
You knew that you jinxed yourself the moment that you started to walk through the doors.
“The painter was talented, weren’t they? If only they were all here to see these for themselves.”
All the words fell past your lips and instead were stomped on as you were at a loss for the syllables and phonetics to explain what had been going on in your mind. Instead, you take in all his beauty that was in front of you, the feeling of taking something for granted settling in your chest as you wondered how he became like this in the first place.
But to be fair, you had also contributed to this as well.
“So you’re the king, huh?” You mumbled quietly, finally making eye contact with him as you could feel his gaze burn into your soul, trying to see what your true intentions were as you, personally, had been struggling to keep a simple composure.
“You must be special then, if you’ve never heard about me. San didn’t tell you?” He muses, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You could feel the unsettling feeling in your own lungs the moment that he had said them.
Of course you have heard about him, you knew him.
It was evident that he didn’t recognize you, making you realize that he had never remembered you the moment that he must’ve been alive again. The realization makes your heart weigh heavy in your chest as tears slightly prick the corners of your eyes once again, but you disregarded them by clearing your throat before continuing once again, hoping that maybe this time around you could be more sure about yourself… or him.
“He told me what I needed to know, don’t worry about me-”
“Then there must be a reason why you came here in the first place,” He says, smirking before heading out of the room first with his hands before his back and with the way that he walks away first makes you want to gravitate to follow him.
“Aren’t you going to come along, sweetheart?”
His words make your face flush at the pet name before you slowly trail behind him, unsure of where he would be leading you in the castle. You looked around your surroundings as he had directed you to who knows where, but it wasn’t until the two of you had started going up stairs that brought your attention back to realize that he was taking you upstairs and you wondered where he wanted you to go with him.
The door that he suddenly opens leads to the rooftop, or at least some part of the roof that was part of the castle and he motions for you to sit down beside him, close to the ledge. Your feet stay grounded as you look out towards the view to see what he sees everyday; flaming red fire that never seems to burn out or disintegrate from its own fumes.
It’s quiet as the two of you stare out at the kingdom, neither of you deciding to say anything but instead letting the loud silence overtake you both. You weren’t sure what to say in the first place, trying to take in the fact that he was still alive and well in front of you. The only thing that was different was the fact that he didn’t remember you, and this time he was a fire wielding individual that held power in his own kingdom, in which he had built from the ground up.
You didn’t know this Jung Wooyoung.
“Those people on the wall that you were looking at earlier… How did you know them?” He suddenly asks you quietly, finally breaking the silence that was looming over the both of you, as if you both weren’t sitting on the roof of the castle that was overseeing the rest of the kingdom.
Your eyes glance between him and the buildings in front of you as everything slowly settles into your mind. It seemed as though he had everything he could even ask for in the first place as you knew that you couldn’t take that away from him, not when he seems to be content with what he has in his hands now; which was why you decided that maybe you should start to let go the ghost memory that you had of him… slowly.
“They meant everything to me, the same way they were everything to you.”
You decided to stay, at least for the sake of San’s convenience.
After that first day of seeing him again, the idea of running away was more appealing to you. It was up until nightfall that San had found you on the rooftop still about an hour after Wooyoung went back inside. The argument he made about you possibly being able to help him regain his memories was a possibility that could happen, and you think that it’s pathetic of you to use that as your excuse as you had been in the fiery kingdom for these last two weeks.
However that must not have been the case if you weren’t in a room full of people who’s gazes could cut through a knife.
Today was a meeting that was meant to be between Wooyoung and San with a new group that was rising within the kingdom itself, wanting to hear out their demands as they heard from insiders about a possible rebellion. You knew that San was relieved about the fact that they had sought them out quickly, but to what extent were they safe, given the fact that the demands the groups had asked were a lot to even wish for.
“There’s no way I can do that.”
His words were cold enough to send shivers down your spine, recognizing that tone as one where he wanted to cut to the chase. You experienced this side of Wooyoung more than enough, considering he had been nothing but cold to you the entire time that you’ve been staying and you wouldn’t have been here either; it was because of San’s faith and hope that made you stay.
“Why? Are you scared that even you, the most powerful king, can’t handle a little fire?” The leader of the group tauned, smirking as the toothpick in between their teeth ever-so-slightly moved to the corner of their lips whilst pressing their hands to the table, looming close to Wooyoung, “How cute-“
“Don’t test me right now, Kyungmin. You know damn well that it’s not safe, considering power is harder to wield for the wrong purposes.” Wooyoung threatens, shooting daggers at the younger but neither of them decided to stand down from their stare off in the tension filled room.
He was right though.
The plan that Kyungmin and his crew had supposedly come in to ask Wooyoung to create was a subsidiary fire environment that would rule under another leader, one that wouldn’t have to abide by the rules of Ignatius. It would’ve required a lot of power and strength that you all know Wooyoung was able to wield considering he built his kingdom from the ground up, but he knew that by listening to Kyungmin’s wishes would only create more chaos than it should have been.
“Afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of your precious angel-”
“Get out of here, Yang Kyungmin, before I make you leave right now.”
There’s a louder silence as you could feel your face heat up from what was just exchanged, unsure as to what had just happened. You turned to make eye contact with San, who was just as confused as you were, until his face became more stern, getting ready to immediately press his walkie to call the guards outside of the room for standby to get rid of the group out of the secluded meeting room.
Before you could even blink, they suddenly all disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you alone with Wooyoung in the room as you watched him try to collect his thoughts from the side. You weren’t sure what to do at the moment, considering you didn’t have the right to even comfort him since he was still cold to you, but maybe…
“Do you want to go take a walk?”
Your small offer made him snap out of whatever trance he was in, making him turn his head over to where you had been standing with your hands behind your back awkwardly and he let out a breath. However he seems to take in your offer, for once, as he motions for you to head out first, until he shuts the door behind you the moment that you leave past the door frame. The sound of it slamming behind makes you jump in surprise before you’re turning to face the door with a frown on your face.
So much for turning things around.
A breath escapes your lips as you turn to head back to the room that you had been staying in these days, walking past the servants that looked at you with a grim look on their faces knowing the history you had with the boy earlier. You couldn’t help but remember your first night here, knowing that it was a rocky start and that was when everyone had pieced it together from then.
It was a quiet dinner when San had called you down to eat with him and Wooyoung, the thought of it seeming harmless as you walked out of your room after showering. You were wearing clothes that one of the maids had left out for you to wear after grabbing some from the shops within the kingdom, luckily fitting you as you walked into the dining hall with ease as though you had been living here your entire life.
To be quite fair, it was built exactly the way that you both had talked about before in the past.
The memory of you and Wooyoung spending countless nights talking about your future together was nothing but an empty promise, you remembered planning each distinct detail of the building. If only he had remembered you instead of the architecture, you thought to yourself, taking a seat on the opposite side of Wooyoung, as the only seat open seemed to be beside San.
From what you remember, the dinner was quiet as the three of you had not spoken with all of the servants surrounding you guys. Nobody had spared a single thought out loud and instead were sounds of each of you quietly eating your dinner in peace. It wasn’t until you slightly turned your head to lock eyes with San that he made a small motion with his eyes to make some small talk, as if that were going to help make the dinner less awkward.
However, it seems as though Wooyoung had seen through your little exchange as he shot daggers at you both through his gaze before setting his utensils from his grip. He lets out an exasperated, but also exaggerated sigh in which you could tell was dripping with sarcasm before he decides to break the long awaited silence that was just meant to be broken.
“Are you two going to do this all night, or do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He breathes out, making you freeze in your spot considering you didn’t think that he would directly call you both out on it.
“Damn, what’s up your ass?” You mumbled before stuffing your food-filled fork into your mouth. For a split second you could hear San stifle his laughter, just as you can hear Wooyoung silently grumbling to himself before standing up and taking his dinner to where you presumed was his workroom.
And from there on out, it had been nothing but coldness from him this whole entirety of your stay.
You shut the door quietly once you had finally made it back to the room, letting out a breath that you unknowingly had been holding in before sliding down against the door. Being around him felt like it was asking for too much of your energy, your mental one, to even bear with his now newfound disruptive and cold aura, because you could only hold onto the idea that he might remember for so long…
It was at this point where you were pretty sure that at this point, the old Wooyoung wasn’t going to come back.
Your eyes trailed over to where you had some of your stuff on the nightstand, away from wandering eyes because only you had decided to keep it there out of reach. A picture frame, as easy and cliche as it sounds, had rest upon the nightstand as you walked over to hold it in your hands, looking at the image itself to reminisce how easy it was back then; it was easy enough to be around him, to even tolerate the fact that his presence was something that you had been looking for all your life because you were meant to be soulmates.
The universe had a really cruel way of playing with your heart at this moment, and you wondered what you must’ve done in your past life to end up this way with the burning feeling of emptiness in your heart. Rather than an inflation of love spewing in it, replace one that you could only identify as bitterness, envy, as you wondered why you couldn’t be with your soulmate like everyone else could, and why you lived through what you did.
It was to the point where those thoughts had drained your energy, forgetting when you had fallen asleep in the middle of the night on your bed with the picture of both you and Wooyoung on your first anniversary in your hands.
Something felt off.
There was an overwhelming silence as you were currently walking around the palace, finding yourself wandering into the room that you went to when you first arrived here about a month ago. The portraits of the other boys stared back at you with a sense of familiarity, making you wish that they were still around to also help you and San guide in helping Wooyoung regain his memories from back then. So far in a span of a month, nothing had progressed in gaining them back except for the fact that something shifted in your relationship.
Since the day that he had shut the door on you after the meeting with Kyungmin, his demeanor seemed to have changed as he was awkwardly not cold to you anymore. There were many attempts in which you assumed was trying to make peace with you, but you weren’t sure considering he had only left after giving or telling you something that would’ve caught you off guard; assuming that he must’ve felt embarrassed to.
The silence in the room feels comforting, for a moment, as you scanned the portraits the same way that you did then and tears fill your eyes with the overwhelming emotion of remorse; the consequences to save not only you from dying back home and himself was the cost of other peoples’ lives.
Was it not selfish of you both to go through Wooyoung’s plan? What if-
“Happy birthday, Y/N.”
The soft voice of someone entering the room breaks you out of your trance as you quickly turn around in your spot to face both Wooyoung and San with smiles on their faces. Your eyes looked down to see the red frosted cake that was in the elder’s hands and a bouquet of white roses in the latter’s, making you wonder why they took it upon themselves to have this celebration for you in the first place.
“What did you both do?” You hinted, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you raise an eyebrow at their antics and you notice the quick exchange of eye glances between them.
They were definitely hiding something.
“Can’t we celebrate your birthday in peace?” San jokes before motioning towards the cake that was still in his hands, making you realize that they were lit up for a moment as you stared at the flickering flames.
“Make a wish, Y/N!”
You hesitate for a moment to think about what you wanted to wish for this year, but there was only one that came to mind as you looked between the boys and the cake in front of you. I wish that Wooyoung would come back, you thought to yourself, locking eyes with the boy himself as you blew out the candles with a heartbroken smile.
As much as you had wanted your wish to come true, it couldn’t. Amidst the warm smiles, you locked eyes with Wooyoung as he handed you the bouquet of roses while San went off to grab a knife to cut proper slices of cake for the three of you.
Silence filled the room like it always had whenever it was just the two of you.You felt something shift as his fingers brushed against yours in the exchange, and what you always felt from his cold touches happened to be more warm. His eyes gazing into your own, an unfamiliar feeling settles in your chest as you try to maintain the eye contact that he had initiated in the first place until he breaks the short lived tension.
“We got you strawberry cake. It’s your favorite right?” He muses, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You don’t remember telling him such a small detail about yourself, making you think that San had told him.
“I had a hunch, so I went along with it.”
His words answered your thoughts as you looked up at him curiously, unsure how he knew that you were questioning him. Once San came back into the room with three slices of the aforementioned strawberry cake. The tension in the atmosphere dissipates as you take the slice from his hand and bite into it, savoring its sweetness and the slight bitterness of the strawberry on your tastebuds.
“This is actually really good.” You muttered to yourself in awe, turning to face them, small smiles lingered on their faces between bites.
“Wooyoung actually made it-.”
The four words nearly made you slightly hiccup as you nearly choked on the cake, but the two of them had helped you stop choking as Wooyoung instantly offered you a glass of water which had been brought in by one of his servants. The two of you exchanged a look, considering you were very weary of his kind actions, but nothing else was said as you took a gulp.
“Was my baking really that bad, that you started to choke?” He joked, making you look at him in confusion and you wonder who this new Wooyoung was.
“No, it’s fine,” You mumbled as you set the water back to where it had originally come from, taking the cake back to your bedroom in silence.
When you were out of both their sights, both Wooyoung and San exchanged spare glances before the younger let out a soft sigh before slowly following you back to your room. As he walked down the familiar path, thinking about everything that had happened in a span of a month. Today he had made it his mission to get you to forgive him for everything he had done to you since then, considering he was nothing but cold and closed off.
He’s faced with your door as he hears small sniffles from the other side, making his eyebrows furrow at the sound before staring down at the roses he happened to still have in his grasp. Raising his hand, he knocks on your door gently, hoping that maybe he wasn’t intruding on what must’ve been a vulnerable moment for you until he hears slight shuffles to where the door was as it opened to the sight of you.
“What do you want, Wooyoung?” You mumbled, looking at him in confusion.He had seen the way your eyes were rimmed with red; indicating that you must’ve been crying as soon as you had gotten back to your room.
Was he the cause of it?
“Want to take a small walk with me?” He asks you softly, offering you the bouquet of roses as he watches you contemplate for a moment before nodding your head in response.
You open the door wider so that you could take the bouquet from him and he takes a few steps away from your door, motioning for you to go first when suddenly you slam the door shut in front of his face. He was baffled for a moment, unsure as to why you had shut the door on him in the first place, but he remembers the day that he had done that very same thing to you after the meeting.
“Karma’s a bitch, Wooyoung. Thanks for the roses, though.” He hears you voice out from the other side of the door. Silent once more as a small smile blossoms on his face.
He can’t bring himself to admit that you’ve been plaguing his mind, your presence alone making him less concentrated on his duties and instead understand why you still continued to stay when he has only been cold to you. However, the past few weeks have been filled with blurred dreams of him with someone’s voice who had seemed so distant, yet their presence felt familiar to him.
He wasn’t sure who it was, but one thing for sure was that somehow it all went back to you. He pondered as he walked back down the corridors to his workroom.
Why were you still there waiting on him?
You woke up to chaos erupting outside your window.
Your comforter was immediately thrown to the side of your bed as you scrambled to your window, seeing a group of people attempting to barge into the palace, visible anger emitting from the crowd. Your blood runs cold as you could see their leader, Kyungmin, standing at the center, his shouts louder than anyone else’s. You could hear him demand to see Wooyoung from inside.
At the same time, you could hear people pacing around the palace to help prepare for what might be a massacre, but you didn’t want to think about that. Instead you left your room to head towards San’s quarters, knocking on his door loudly, hoping that he could spare some answers but when the doors had finally opened, you were instead greeted by the sight of Wooyoung.
“Why is Kyungmin here?” You immediately asked, concerned about the safety of your best friend and the latter in front of you. You noticed he was dressed in protective gear, and that’s when you had realized that this must’ve been serious.
“He wants to charge the palace and take my powers for himself. Y/N, go back to your room where it’s safer. Let us handle this.” He says, starting to stalk past you until the moment that you quickly grab his wrist to stop him, turning his figure back around to face you.
“No, let me help you guys-”
“Y/N, it’s too dangerous for you to be here, just go back.” He argues and for a moment it feels like deja vu all over again from the last time you were both here in this situation; the one that had cost the lives of all your friends for the sake of your own.
A loud beat of silence overtook you both as he waited for you to back down, hoping that maybe you would actually go back so that you wouldn’t get hurt from what was yet to come. This specific scene playing out in front of him felt familiar as well, making him unsure as to why it did when he looked into the pained expression behind your eyes. However before he could say anything, your fingers brush away from his wrist and he watches as you turn away to leave him back down the corridor without another word.
You were going to show him that you were more than capable of handling yourself.
Not wanting to sit back this time, you went back to your room with intent in your mind as you looked through your stuff to find protective gear yourself along with some sort of staff that could help defend you later on. You weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into, but you were absolutely sure that you were going to be ready for anything when you faced the crowd later.
The moment that you were graced with the view of the crowd was almost too anxiety-inducing, considering there were so many rebels under Kyungmin’s leadership that filled the foyer. They were fighting against the guards that had been doing nothing but trying to safely stop them without physically hurting them, but it only became worse as you noticed someone being crowded in the corner of your eye.
With every strength that you could manifest, you reeled your arm back before reeling the staff over your shoulder to where the crowd suddenly scattered the moment that you launched it, watching as all eyes were now on you. Smoke erupts from the tip of the staff you’d just thrown, leaving everyone else to rush out of the palace to retreat from the scene except for two rebels who had been left behind.
Your eyes scan for both Wooyoung and San, realizing that they were both on opposite ends of the spectrum as Wooyoung had been defending himself against two of the rebels from the leftover crowd. Unfortunately for you, you felt as though time had slowed down the moment that you finally were able to find Kyungmin, remembering his presence as you notice him slowly creeping up on San, who had been distracted with regaining his vision from the smoke.
“San, look out!”
Your words seemed to come out hoarse, because the moment that they escaped your lips was when you let out heavy coughs from the smoke slowly coming up to where you were. Everything unfolded in front of you as you watched San quickly turn to shoot Kyungmin in the stomach, watching as the latter cripples in front of him as he stood in front of the now dead corpse.
You rushed over to where San had been standing, but it wasn’t until you watched him turn around to see that he had been clutching his stomach as there was a large gash bleeding through his shirt. A gasp escapes your lips as you catch him the moment that his knees give out on him, not wanting to touch the dagger that had been stabbed into his stomach but you were afraid.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help you get Wooyoung to remember…” He mumbles quietly, labored breaths escaping his lips as you shake your head in response,tears haphazardly escaping your eyes.
“No no no… you weren’t supposed to get hurt this time, San-”
“Hey, it’s okay, Y/N,” He says while wiping the strands of hair away from your eyes and you couldn’t help but let sobs escape just as the sounds of someone’s rushed footsteps run over to where you were, “Wooyoung-”
“San, you’re not dying on me now,” The younger states almost immediately, but the moment that Wooyoung had touched San’s wrist to at least help fasten the healing process there was nothing that came out of him, making him realize what it had meant.
“It doesn’t hurt, I promise. You don’t have to take my pain away anymore… ”
He lets out a weak smile and looks at the both of you, two cursed soulmates, with fondness in his eyes and you couldn’t help but think that it was your fault because you didn’t warn him fast enough. Reaching out to hold both of your hands, he gives you a small look before motioning for you to move in closer so that he could whisper something to you in secret as his last wish.
Wooyoung notices how your eyes widen in surprise, but you were silent the entire time throughout the exchange between you both.
“I… I can’t-”
“Trust me, Y/N… You’ll be happy again.” He weakly smiled before his eyes had finally grown heavy, fluttering shut slowly as neither of you had said anything.
You felt as if your world had finally crumbled down, the only person that had been there to support you throughout the last few years had left for good. Now that he was gone, you weren’t sure what else you were meant to be doing at the fire palace that you had grown to adjust to when the person who ruled the kingdom in the first place was giving you mixed signals.
“He’s going to be taken to a friend of mine, Taehyun the ice king. His ice palace is far away from here, but they’re going to see if they can turn his ashes to ice after the funeral… You should go to sleep, Y/N. We’ve suffered enough, after today.” Wooyoung breathes out quietly, glancing over to see you still frozen in your spot where you were still looking down at San’s now still body on the blood-stained palace floor.
But the moment when he reaches out to you is when you turn around and leave him; not a single word leaves your lips as he watches you disappear back into depths of the hallways without realizing that he never asked if you were okay in the first place.
The room ironically felt cold, despite being in the palace of fire.
With your knees up to your chest, you could only stare at the ground in front of you blankly as the last couple hours of the previous night were catching up to you. You felt lost and empty as you wondered where everything had gone wrong. Ever since the moment that you had stepped foot into the cursed place, you could only blame yourself for the passing of your best friend. While everyone else was at the funeral that was currently being held, you were alone in your room.
You shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but the same could’ve been said about him, if the both of you weren’t there, he could’ve been beside you right now. You remember how cold San had felt in your touch as you heard about how Wooyoung’s men took him to another kingdom made of ice, to try to help sustain his supposedly faint heartbeat, but you were pretty sure that he was long gone now.
There was no way San would have survived the incident or the trip to the ice palace, and it was all your fault.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you thought to yourself that you should’ve never come here in the first place, despite San’s wish for you to try and convince Wooyoung to remember his past. Was the entire trip worth it, when it came with the cost of not your life, but the one person that held your reality with a sense of hope? San was dead, and you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that you could live with, especially not if your own soulmate couldn’t even remember who you were.
You tear your eyes away from whatever you had been dozing off to and turn toward the newly placed vase of white roses in your room, remembering how both San and Wooyoung had gifted it to you for your birthday prior to everything. Taking strides toward the elegant vase, you could feel the tears stream down the apples of your cheeks as you picked up one of the rose stems, noticing the thorns had been cut off prior to avoiding you from getting pricked by them.
How considerate.
The rose in your hand felt heavier than it looked. You knew this was the last memory you had of San, and what was a better way of remembering him than finding him in the afterlife? The window was ajar, giving you an opportunity to light the rose with the flames covering the sides of the palace, waiting a moment for a flicker of light to set the rose aflame before pulling it back inside.
Taking the small flame on the white rose that was in your hand, you slowly let it roll out of your hands as you watched vibrant colors waver in front of your eyes. The fire igniting from the small flower was the only thing you kept your eyes on as the innocent white color began to churn, slowly burning from the intensity of the fire’s magic. Streaks of fire slowly enveloping the entire room you were in.
A small breath escapes your lips as you let out a weak chuckle, thinking that this might be the last thing you remember. The heat was slowly getting to you, the ashes and smoke that were filling the room clouding your thoughts. The last thing you remember before blacking out were flashes of your life flashing before your eyes momentarily, reminding you of your tragic love story that you had set alight.
The smell of smoke, however, fills Wooyoung’s nose as he walks down the hallway to greet you for dinner, but something feels off. He could see smoke slowly filling his gaze, his eyes darting over to the origins of it as he recognized it to be your room. It was as if his feet had carried him on their own before his brain could even process it, because almost instantly he arrived at your door in a split second.
It was locked, he tried to jiggle it open, but the moment that he felt the extensive heat on the palm of his hands, it was as if he had been shocked by not lighting, but new memories that had surged from the back of his mind. His hand burned slightly as he let out a yelp, making him pull away from the doorknob, until suddenly his head began to hurt; the more that his blurred dreams from the last few weeks became more apparent, the clearer the memory became .
It was you.
You who had been with him years before, being with the rest of the team and by his side. It was you who he had made promises to and never intended to break, the person that he knew was supposed to be with him for his life because he knew that the two of you were meant to be; soulmates. You were his soulmate, and here he was, finally remembering you after so long when you must’ve been suffering this without him.
“Y/N!”
His shouts blocked out the loud thuds of him attempting to break open the door, and if it weren’t for his aching shoulder, he would’ve given up. However, the fires that were slowly engulfing the room that made the door even hotter and after one more big shove, the door finally burst open as he darted into the room, bringing you out of the burning death trap.
You were unconscious in his arms as he tried to get you out as far away as possible from the flames that he had diffused with a quick movement of his hand, bringing you to his bedroom where he knew he had spare equipment. There was soot covering your body from head to toe, but Wooyoung’s only concern was to make sure that you were still alive as he delicately placed you on his bed.
He immediately checks your pulse, feeling the light beats of your heart still pulsing in your veins and he instantly feels relieved that you were still with him. Resorting to giving you CPR, he continues to attempt to resuscitate you as he mentally prays to himself that you would be okay until your eyes finally shot open. Grabbing out a glass of water for you to drink, you slowly take it from his hold but your eyes were on his shaking body as he had tried to process what had just happened.
“What were you thinking, Y/N? You could have died!”
“And you should have let me.”
“Why should I, when I had just gotten you back?” He argues back and there’s a silence that engulfs the both of you as he can sense that you were frustrated with him.
However, he was just as frustrated considering he had regained all his memories, and right when he did, he had almost lost you again; just like he did during the time loop in the past.
His words felt as though they were twisting both your heart and your thoughts as you couldn’t help but let tears stream down your face. You wanted to believe him in this moment, that he suddenly had gained all his memories and that this was the Wooyoung that you loved, the one that was your soulmate until the very end. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him as you stared at the man in front of you in disbelief while you felt yourself being brought into his chest to console.
You didn’t stop him from doing so, because you were still confused. You wanted to hate him, for putting you through so much and for the endless heartbreaks you suffered through. But at the same time, you wanted to feel relieved. You wanted to believe in the fact that he had finally remembered you and your entire past together, but you were still uncertain…
“You don’t remember me, there was nothing that would have worked. You can’t be serious right now, Wooyoung, of all times. San’s dead, and just when I was going to go find him, you saved me from that. Why would you save me, when you should’ve just let me go?” You cried, feeling yourself hiccupping in between your words but you could feel him gently wipe your tears as he had slowly rubbed your back comfortingly.
“I burned an entire world for you, and I’ll do it a million times again if I have to. You might think that I’ve forgotten, but I finally remember… I remember when I first loved you, and I remember nearly dying loving you.” He declares, still holding you close into his chest as you found comfort into his fast heartbeats that were thumping in your ear.
You felt as if your heart would explode, chills raising the hairs on your arms as you suddenly felt teardrops into your hair. You instantly looked up to see that he started crying, an instinctive feeling in which you moved your hand up to wipe the tears away from the apples of his cheeks, but you still felt weary of this moment as you couldn’t understand why it was when you were on the brink of death, that he finally regained all memories and saved you from dying again.
“If you really remember everything about us… what’s one thing that we both did before we broke the time loop that we were stuck in?” You whispered quietly, refusing to meet his eyes as you knew that he was racking his brain for answers.
“I held you one last time, hearing you say that you had loved me and were willing to trust my plan to make sure that you wouldn’t die again on my watch.”
It was as if the universe had finally healed as you could only feel warmth from him and everything was finally coming together with the right pieces. He tenderly took your hand into his and placed a gentle kiss on each of your knuckles, making you feel as though you were rejuvenated once again now that he was finally back.
“Are you really back, Wooyoung? After the last month of hell, and losing our best friend because of everything… is our soulmate bond actually rebuilt just like that, because you saved me again?” You whispered softly, clasping onto his hand and squeezing it slightly.
You could see the corners of his lips curl into a beautiful drawing that could paint your mind forever.
“You’re the only one for me, Y/N. It was always you, and it always will be.” He smiles gently, leaning in to kiss you and within the kiss, you could feel a familiar burning passion that you recognized to be only from him as you kissed him back; this was where you were meant to be.
In his arms and only with him.
He was a fire that was able to ignite an entire kingdom with one touch, yet with you, he was the one that finally crumbled to his own feet. He had set fire to a world around him, ready to bring everyone to their horrible downfalls if they were to ever deceive him, but never had he once let a flame touch you; his one and only untouchable blue flame.
Part Three: a blacksmith, a nightmare, and oh-so-sweet empathy
series rating:16+
series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.
series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)
summary:as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.
chapter details beneath the cut ->
chapter wc: 12.9k
extra chapter warnings: panic attack, mentions of v*mit, alcohol.
summary:
You feel the presence of a figure settle behind you, as San awkwardly clears his throat.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, voice quiet. You can faintly see his reflection through the window as well, and his expression is somber. “I just wasn’t sure how.”
a/n:woo says eat the rich.
You’ve always loved the sound of birds chirping. Always one to appreciate a delicate song, each morning in a slightly different tune rousing you awake. As monotonous as palace life could be at times, the bird’s song was always a part of your routine you could never tire of.
You aren’t tired of them now, as you make your way along the forest path. Having successfully made it out of the inner circle of the woods alive, the scenery is far more comforting than ominous. The twisted spindling tree’s replaced once again by tall pine and oaks, the deep darkness now broken by the sun peaking through the forest canopy. Beams of sunlight dancing between your fingers, you hum along to the bird’s steady tune, bare feet pressing gently against the lush soil.
Having taken a stroll by yourself, the sound of the three men bustling around your make-shift campsite fades away into the background, even the gentle breeze overpowering their voices as they chatter amongst themselves.
It’s nice, you think, to have a moment to yourself. A peaceful one, where you don’t feel at risk of being murdered, injured, or having the reality of your identity discovered.
You hear the sound of a stream up ahead - or perhaps simply a slow-moving river - and your feet are set in motion before you can even really contemplate following the noise.
It is, in fact, a river. Although the water rushes at a far greater pace than originally expected. Walking up to the shoreline, it’s incredibly satisfying when your toes dip into the stream, the coolness pleasant as the dirt and grime from the following days gently washes away.
You think of how nice it would be to take a bath at the moment, like the ones you could have any time back at the castle. Lavish soaps and fragrances, steaming hot water and bubbles only a beck and call away.
One of the many privileges you took for granted. If you ever do get to Kuroku and manage to marry the Prince, you’ll be sure to not take such things so lightly.
Closing your eyes to further enjoy the feeling of the water against your bare skin. Taking in a deep breath, you’re flooded with the smell of pine and the logfire from back at the camp. You suppose that this is one thing you never had back in the kingdom, only imported fruit trees growing in the castle gardens, and the thought of a campfire anywhere near the King’s study is almost comedical.
So if the possibility of a warm bath be an unattainable longing, you may as well revel in what would have also been impossible for you to have back at home.
After a moment, you open your eyes, prepared to return back to the campsite and the vast journey you have ahead of you. However, your limbs can’t seem to force themselves into motion, as you catch sight of a man further up ahead the river.
Blinking, you narrow your gaze, surely seeing things.
Surely, because what - or better, who - you are seeing is simply not possible.
Silver hair disheveled, he bustles around in a small wooden boat, only big enough for roughly two people. Turning around to observe the stern - and subsequently the side facing you - he rubs a steak of dirt from his forehead, letting out a deep and frustrated sigh. After a moment, he tiredly looks up, and you are greeted by a pair of familiar eyes.
A familiar nose. Familiar cheeks and a familiar steady jawline. Familiar lips as they settle into a frustrated pout.
Familiar everything. All details embedded into your memory after a lifetime of seeing them, these details something that have rarely left your mind within the last couple days. A familiarness that you never thought you would see again.
Tears immediately flood your eyes, and you’re half-blinded by the glossiness as you rush towards the man. Sore limbs practically flailing outwards from the sheer speed of your pursuit, your voice breaks out in emotion as you call out to him.
“Mingi!” His eyes widen as you call out to him, and his expression settles into a grin. A familiar and cheeky - would slap it off of him if you weren’t so utterly relieved - sort of grin.
Crashing into him, he lets out a small “oof”as you wrap your arms around tall frame. Squeezing him painfully tight, you just need to make sure that he’s actually there. That he’s real and solid, not some twisted fragment of your imagination.
It’s only once you decide that he checks all of these boxes that you finally let him go.
“Y-You’realive,” you practically blubber out, still not quite believing it.
Because this isn’t possible, itcan’tbe.
Yet somehow, it is.
Watching the way your lip quivers, the overwhelming emotions just too much for a singular moment, he lets out a quiet chuckle before using one of his fingers to wipe away a rogue tear that trails down your cheek.
“Of course I’m alive,” he replies, voice gentle. “You didn’t really think I’d go that easy, did you?”
Yes, you did. You heard his screams, those desperate wails of agony, so horrific that they fill your mind every time the silence becomes too thick. It didn’t seem that there was much possibility for another fate, death the singular option for something so terrible.
Yet, here he is. Standing before you, tall and steady, solid and breathing. Alive.
“How?” You start before clearing your throat, which is choked and raspy with shock. “How did you make it out of there? I heard you die, Mingi. I-I feltit, in my chest I felt it. So how-”
“How about I tell you on the way to Kuroku?” He smiles, gesturing to the boat beside him against the shoreline, having been forgotten in the moment’s relief.
The three men back at your campsite only cross your mind for a split second. You wonder what Seonghwa might think, how much sadness those big brown eyes might gleam with, if he might even think you were murdered or abducted. You think of San, if within those analytical and lingering glances he might have always suspected something was off, although you doubt it.
You even think of Woo, and just how much he will boast about being right about you all along.
However, with that thought the moment of hesitation disappears, and you step into the boat.
Mingi follows suit after you, taking a seat at the stern before using an ore to push the two of you away from the shoreline. Wind blows against your face as the tiny boat slowly begins to gain momentum, water splashing up from the current before you and stinging your eyes, a journey full of unknowns awaiting you. However, this time you don’t mind.
No, because with Mingi, you feel safe. You feel protected and comfortable. At home, with someone to trust, as well as pick up all of the slack that you simply cannot carry.
Twisting yourself around in the boat to face him, you find that he is already smiling at you. That warm, familiar grin enough to fill your chest with warmth. A genuine glimpse of happiness, the first you’ve felt amidst the endless sorry that has coated the last few days.
“I missed you,” you say simply, because what other statement could possibly hold more truth?
“I know,” he replies, and you snort at this. He was never one for sentimentality.
“So how did you get out of the stable?” You ask, settling your chin in your palm, elbow resting against your knees. Scanning his figure, you’re surprised at how well dressed he is, in spotless kingdom armour with not even a splotch of grime to be found. “I don’t even see any wounds on you,” you say, only realizing how odd this fact is as the words leave your mouth, narrowing your eyes to inspect him closer.
Mingi laughs, eyes focusing out on the water in front of him. After a moment, his grin slowly morphs into a thin line. Still smiling, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s a strange sort of expression, one you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear before.
His gaze shifts back to yours, and when he speaks, his voice is plain.
“I didn’t.”
You blink.
“What?” You ask, assuming you must have heard him wrong.
“I didn’t make it out of the stable,” he answers easily, although perhaps it is this steadiness to his voice that causes an unsettling chill to pass through you. The boy’s eyes remain fixated on your own as he speaks, still entirely unblinking. “I died there, just as gruesomely as you expected me to.”
“Mingi,” You begin, doing your best to keep your voice steady and mind calm. Surely, he must be kidding. This is some sort of strange, bizarre sort of joke. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you even think about coming back for me?” He asks, and at this his eyebrows furrow slightly, a new edge to his voice. “Did you even think I was worthy of saving,Princess?”
A pang of both hurt and guilt rattles in your chest, caught off guard by the malevolence behind the words. “Of course I wanted to,” you start, looking at him incredulously. “But you told me to run.”
“And you didn’t even think twice about it, did you?” He continues, tone snide. It’s with this comment that he drops both of the ores into the water, and they quickly begin to take off down the river, moving much faster than your boat due to their light weight.
“Mingi, the ores-” you begin, almost following them over the edge in an attempt at reaching out for one of them. Mingi, however, seems as if he couldn’t care less.
“You won’t be needing them,” he states bluntly. “There’s no chance you’ll make it to Kuroku by yourself.”
Anger, mixed with both confusion and terror, twists within your gut. “What the hell are you even talking-”
“But I suppose you’re not really by yourself, are you?” He ponders aloud, the thin line of his lips shifting into something sinister. A twisted smirk, and when he smiles there’s blood between each of his teeth, so much so that it drips down onto his lips. “Running with thieves now, are we Princess?”
Shame twists within you, and you suddenly feel small. This tiny boat is like a box, like a trap. “I was just doing what I had to do.”
“How noble,” he laughs. A darkness suddenly falls over the two of you, and you look upwards to see that the sky has become shrouded in black clouds. An oncoming storm - and a nasty one at that - beginning to brew.
Mingi suddenly leans in, a little too close for your liking. “You’re going to rot in hell,” he whispers, voice almost gentle. “For choosing them over me.”
“I didn’t-” you begin, but you’re cut off by your own cough. More surprising, however, is that with this cough comes water. Spluttering from your lips, it drenches the front of your tunic. Attempting to suck in a breath, you find that for some reason, you can’t.
You can’t breathe, as with every time you inhale, it feels as if you aren’t taking in air at all. But water.
Looking back up from your drenched tunic, your panicked eyes do not meet Mingi’s at all, but rather Woo’s. Sitting before you in that same kingdom guard attire, teeth just as bloody.
“Enjoy the swim, Princess,” he laughs, and with no more than a gentle push against your chest, he pushes you overboard.
No matter how desperately you fight upwards, your body sinks as if it were stone.
You wake with a start. Sweat beading across your forehead, each individual breath is ragged as you attempt to steady yourself. Your breathing, however, refuses to cooperate. Throat feeling tight and choked, it’s as if the drowning had actually been real.
Shaky hands coming up to cover your eyes, you shuffle yourself upwards, so that you’re seated with your knees drawn into your chest.
It all felt so real. The drowning, the terror, the guilt.
Mingi.
“In. Out. In. Out. In. Out,” you repeat in your mind, just trying to get your breathing regulated. Yet, it appears to be of no use, as it’s as if your lungs are no longer connected to your brain. Acting completely on their own accord, and that is to say not at all.
Panic rising hot in your throat, you feel the sudden urge to vomit. Nausea swims and twists within your gut, each breath more shallow than the next. With your palms clammy and mind fuzzy with hysteria, you struggle to rise to your feet before you even register where exactly you’re going.
You need to get out of this tent. The stuffiness decidedly underbearable, you’re in desperate need of some fresh air.
Pulling back the flap, you’re immediately greeted by the eyes of all three men turning to stare at you. Seonghwa opens his mouth, most likely to utter a “good morning” or something along those lines, but stops as he catches sight of your wide and startled eyes, as well as frantic and heaving chest.
“Are you alright?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed together in genuine worry, mouth parted in a downturned fashion. San and Woo both seem equally as curious, sharing a momentary side-glance between one another as they watch you carefully.
You need to get a hold of yourself. Fast, before curiosity twists into suspicion.
Feeling only slightly as if you are suffocating, you are careful to avoid all of their eyes as you make your way over to Seonghwa, clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not a morning person.”
The man is obviously not satisfied by the answer, your present state surely appearing more nervous and terrified compared to tired. Seonghwa narrows his eyes, although after a moment, he appears to decide against saying anything.
“Are you hungry?” San asks from his place over by the fire. Turning your attention over to the swordsman, you watch as he fries eggs on a pan over the flame. An awfully domestic look, adorning a stained apron rather than the series of knives and fur coat he usually wears, your lips quirk upwards unintentionally at the bizarreness of the display.
The ringing in your ears finally settles to a dull buzz, you let out a shaky breath, the moment’s panic finally subsiding.
“I could eat,” you answer - impressed by the steadiness of your own voice - and he smiles. Handing you a small plank of wood as a substitute for a plate, he drops a singular egg down before you. Having not eaten for roughly a day and a half now, your stomach protests at the measly excuse for breakfast, especially considering it’s grown used to the grand feasts from back at the palace.
“We’re only a few hours out from a town,” San says, sensing your disappointment. “So don’t worry, we’ll stop there for the night. I think a bed and a hot meal might do you some good.”
You wonder just how disheveled you must look to earn such a statement, but frankly, you can’t disagree.
“We also have a couple errands to run,” he continues, dropping an egg onto his own place before sitting down on the log next to you. “If you don’t mind tagging along.”
“No problem,” you reply, even though you’re not so sure if it really is “no problem”. You know the town that’s coming up ahead - Stockholm - and considering you’ve visited quite a few times throughout the years, it’s a very real possibility that someone may recognize you.
But you also have to play into your role, and saying no to such a simple request would be undeniably suspicious. You’ll just have to be careful, wear Mingi’s cloak up high and keep your head down, and everything should be fine.
Hopefully.
“What sort of errands?” You ask, ensuring that your tone remains nonchalant.
“Well, Seonghwa and Woo will go look for a cheap tavern for us to stay the night, somewhere with a stable,” San answers, before practically devouring his own egg in one bite, covering his mouth as he chews before speaking again. “Then you and I will go to the market to get some supplies, mostly medical stuff, because it’s been made apparent we’re severely lacking. We’ll also pick up some clothes that aren’t so damn bloody. Oh, and get you an actual pair of shoes.”
You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the statement, one you didn’t even realize you’d been holding onto. Looking down at your feet, coated in dirt and dry blood, heels certainly calloused and blistered, you never thought that the possibility of simply having shoes could be something so incredible to look forward to.
San seems to take note of this relief, lip curving upward slightly into a sort of half-smile. “So eat quick,” he says, nodding towards your already half-eaten egg. “We’ll take off in five.”
Stockholm is an endearing town.
One of the very few places outside of your own castle and kingdom that you’ve ever been permitted to visit, the little village has always held a very special place in your heart.
Typically, you’d visit at the very beginning of autumn, when the entire town would transform into a collage of red, orange and yellow hues. The scents of hazelnut and cinnamon filling the air, the streets would be decorated to the nines in hopes of impressing their guests: the royal family - your family - who always stopped by annually for the occasion.
But now, with autumn still a fair distance from approaching and summer well within its prime, this cinnamon smell is now replaced by that of greenery. The air is hot and filled with a lush and flowery scent, and the area surrounding the streets and market are unlike you have ever seen them.
There is a certain simplicity to Stockholm that you never witnessed on your royal visits, a level of mundaneness that surprises you. Family’s make their way up and down the narrow streets, running their daily errands rather than attending the many autumn festivals. Fetching eggs rather than apple cider and pumpkin doughnuts, wearing trousers and tunics compared to their finest attire.
It’s a glimpse of a world foreign to you, that under regular circumstances you would never have been able to see.
It is not Stockholm primped and fashioned for your gaze, it is simply the way that it always is. You think you like it better this way.
However, this is not the only reason that your trip to the market of Stockholm is not what you’d expected it to be. What you’d anticipated was to be constantly in fear of the lingering glances you would receive, the looming possibility of someone recognizing you. Of being ratted out to the black-clad men that might be looming somewhere within the town’s cracks and shadows.
Instead, it appears that the people of the market are almost avoiding your gaze.
Although you’ve kept the hood of Mingi’s cloak drawn up high, gaze downcast as you and San make your way through the market’s many stands, there are still the occasional accidental glimpses of eye contact. Terror rushing through you each time your gaze locks with a stranger, your chest siezes as you imagine what would happen if their face suddenly lit up with recognition.
However, this doesn’t seem to be an issue, as whenever a stranger’s eyes meet yours, they immediately look away. Not casually, gaze naturally drifting after obviously recognizing you as a stranger and nothing more, but rather a sharp glance away from your direction, as if they didn’t want to be caught staring.
It’s not until you catch a glimpse of your reflection in a shop’s window that you understand this strange phenomenon.
Stopping in your tracks, you approach the window almost cautiously, not sure if what you’re seeing is even real. Your reflection appears utterly foreign to your own eyes, and you withhold a gasp.
The burn marks cover multiple areas on your face, small but noticeable scars that span from the top of your forehead down to your chin. Rather inflamed, your skin raises at the sight of each of the wounds, burning a twisted dark red and purplish hue.
“What…” You trail off, attempting to recall what could have caused such ghastly marks, but the answer comes to your mind almost immediately.
The scorpion’s saliva. The odorous and putrid liquid that had dripped from the beast’s mouth when it hung over top of you. You faintly remember a burning sensation, although frankly, that seemed to be the least of your worries at the time.
But now, it seems that this is the damage that has made itself the most permanent, even the wounds on your arm surely have more of a chance at fully healing compared to this.
Hand drifting up to graze over the wounds, you find that they don’t hurt so badly, which you can only hope is a positive sign, although you’re not so sure.
You feel the presence of a figure settle behind you, and you hear as San awkwardly clears his throat.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, voice quiet. You can faintly see his reflection through the window as well, and his expression is somber. “I just wasn’t sure how.”
You don’t say anything, because frankly, you also don’t know how to respond. Blinking at your reflection, you struggle to wrap your head around just how differentyou look. How unfamiliar the person staring back at you is.
The last few days you’ve already felt like enough of a stranger in your own skin. Through all the fear and bloodshed, the loss of everything you hold dear, you no longer felt like yourself, like the Princess of Libaiya. Reduced to a weak and terrified mess, in a far more helpless position than you have ever wished to be.
But now to see yourself, and not even physically appear to be the girl you once knew. A stranger, both in your mind and body… It’s too much, and your mind can’t seem to divulge a response. A sort of blank numbness to the sight takes over, compared to the anger or horror that seems the more appropriate response.
The lack of emotion and unfamiliarity only warranted in the presence of someone you don’t recognize, that you’ve never met. And really, isn’t that what the person staring back at you is?
“I’m sure they’ll heal,” San says, doing his best to reassure you, although you can hear the falseness in his attempt at sincerity. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to be here anymore, staring at this complete and utter stranger.
“Let’s just go,” you say, tearing yourself away from the window and back down the market’s path without another spare glance. You can feel as San lingers in place for a moment, but he eventually sighs, following after you.
This is a part of San you are growing fond of, can appreciate. You’re certain that Woo would simply never drop a topic that interests him, and Seonghwa - for all his kindness - would make a series of attempts to try and make you feel better.
But San does neither of these things. He drops the subject, exactly like you want him to. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t pry, he simply lets it be.
It makes you wonder what of his own feelings he is hiding, as it is often only those who have their own topics of interest they don’t want to talk about that drop such matters so easily.
“Are we going to meet back up with them?” You ask, referring to Seonghwa and Woo, who you’d left at the gate of town a few hours ago. They’d gone to search for a cheap tavern to spend the night, and surely by now they’ve found one.
“Soon,” San answers, before glancing around the market, as if looking for something. “We just have one more stop to make first.”
“Oh?” You ask, perking up in interest. You’d already stopped at endless market stands, seeming to buy a few of everything under the sun. Medical supplies, preservable food and clothing - as well as a hearty lunch for the day - the satchels you wear on your back are practically stuffed to the brim with your items of purchase.
He even bought you a pair of shoes, the boots fitting comfortable and snug against the arches of your heels, which you note have grown rather substantially in size due to your newly formed calluses. Honestly, you couldn’t care less, the simple relief of having footwear joyous enough to quell the surprise.
“And where might that be?” You ask, as San seems to settle on whatever he was searching for, beginning to head west of the market square and onto a new town road.
“A blacksmith,” he answers, as the two of you take a turn down onto a narrow alleyway. A shortcut it seems, and you’re surprised at how well the swordsman seems to know his way around this town. Libaiya would appear the far more convenient stop, being a little closer to their cabin and the ride less dangerous, but it appears that Stockholm is a place he visits often enough to know by memory.
After not responding to his statement, simply assuming that the visit will be to sharpen his sword or purchase some more arrows, he adds on: “To craft you a sword.”
Eyebrows launching upwards, you turn to face him fully at this, mouth drifting open in surprise. “Really?”
San simply shrugs, holding a level of nonchalance as he takes a left down the alleyway.
And although a burst of excitement erupts from your chest, it is quickly quelled by another, stronger feeling of uncertainty.
“Are you…” You start hesitantly, not wanting to ruin an opportunity for yourself, but also not exactly wanting to start another argument within the group. “Are you sure that Woo would be alright with that?”
San doesn’t say anything for a moment, but when he does, his tone is more firm than you would expect. “Woo says and does whatever he wants whenever he wants, he can deal with it.”
Taken aback by the aggression to the swordsman’s tone, you wonder if it may have something to do with the kiss by the fire last night. Or better, the awkward tension as a result afterwards.
Ultimately, you decide to drop it, the thick silence following the statement clearly being San’s way of having put a cork on the matter entirely.
Fortunately, the silence does not last long, as San approaches the door of the building located at the very end of the alley. A rundown little shop, with no windows and faded brick walls, a glimpse of anticipation courses through you at the thought of going inside.
Not only from the mysterious nature to the building, but also the mere thought of having a weapon of your own. A sword that you can call yours, that cannot be taken away from you so easily. A piece of your own protection, against the seemingly endless dangers that have and have yet to fall onto your path.
A glimpse of control, against what has been constant chaos.
Following San into the blacksmith’s shop, your first impression is that it is dark, the only light sources being a series of dimly lit lanterns strone about. Different types of swords and bows coat the entirety of the walls, and even a hefty mace hangs down from the ceiling.
It’s unlike any place you’ve ever been, mostly because your father thought it was rather inappropriate for a Princess to shop in her people’s stores, especially a place where weapons - and thus adjacently bad ideas - were formed.
And to his credit, perhaps there was a bit of truth to that, as when you approach the wall of longswords, these inappropriate ideas of combat certainly do enter your mind.
Bringing your hand up to take one of them off the shelf, a particularly hefty blade with a white hilt, San puts a hand out to stop you.
“Not one of these ones,” he explains when you cast him a confused glance, a slight curve to his lip in amusement. Whether at the extent of your excitement or the childish intrigue that accompanies it, you aren’t sure. “We’ll get Bin to craft you a new one.”
Before you can object, as within the entire wall of swords you’re certain at least one of them would be a good fit, San walks away from you and further into the shop.
“Bin!” He shouts, before actually walking behind the front counter, attempting again as he peeks his head into the backroom. “Bin, you there?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be right out!” A voice calls back faintly, before a series of clanging that you assume is “Bin”dropping something in the back. However, before you have the chance to go help him, the door swings open wildly before you.
When Bin steps out, he’s covered in charcoal, the black dust all over his arms and clothing, as well as in a thick smudge across his forehead. Sweat beading down his temple, his arms - which you note are rather muscular - are glistening with this same sweat, the sleeves of his shirt drawn up as high as possible, reaching just over his biceps.
The reason for his sweltering attire is made quite clear, as you can feel the heat from the smithy’s forge wafting in even from behind the door, the faint glow of the fire visible from behind him.
The man laughs when he sees San, before pulling the swordsman into an embrace. San seems equally as thrilled to see him, hand patting against Bin’s back, smile across his lips. It’s an uncharacteristically wide smile, far different than the familiar tilt to his lips you’ve grown used to.
After a moment, they pull away, and San turns to you before motioning towards the man. “Yeji, this is Changbin, he’s an old friend of ours.”
At this, Changbin extends a hand out towards you, and it takes you a moment before you even register it as an attempt at a handshake.
An entirely foreign gesture, it’s one you’ve only seen and never actually received. Only ever having shared a bow and curtsy in greeting previously, the informality takes you aback.
For the second time today, you feel absolutely nothing like who you are, the Princess of Libaiya.
“Nice to meet you,” Changbin says kindly when you finally take his hand, offering him a smile of your own. His eyes are sweet, genuine, and for the first time in a while you feel safe in this place, the shop much less daunting than the many eyes filling the town square.
“So what brings you guys in today?” Changbin asks, gaze fluttering over to San. “It’s not quite autumn yet, I didn’t expect you for another month or so.”
“We’ve taken a little detour from our regular schedule,” San chuckles, before putting a hand on your shoulder. It’s a bit strange, as well as something he’s certainly never done before, painting an illusion of familiarity the two of you don’t truly contain. Although, funny enough, you don’t really mind the idea of a friendship with the swordsman, companionship something you’ve always held dear but limited to a select few.
And with those few gone, even if it’s not quite grounded, the thought of gaining a friend through all of this doesn’t seem so terrible.
Even if such a friendship will come crashing down once you reach your destination.
“We’re taking this one to Kuroku,” San continues, giving your shoulder a soft shake in emphasis.
“Long journey,” Changbin comments, and the swordsman nods in agreement.
“Sure is. That’s why we need you to craft her a sword, something solid that a beginner can learn to wield easily.”
You half expect the blacksmith to deny the request, to say something along the lines of how a woman should not wield a blade. That it’s inappropriate, unfeminine, and just plain dishonourable. Something you’ve heard your father, as well as plenty of other men in his court and royal guard say countless times before.
But Changbin simply smiles. “Well then you’ve come to the right place, what sort of style of blade are you thinking?”
It takes a moment spent in silence for you to realize that he’s not addressing San, but you.
Perhaps reading the situation as awkwardness and not uncertainty on your part, San clears his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. If you need me, I’ll be over by the arrows.”
“Wait-” you start, but San simply spares you a glance over his shoulder, good eye glistening with an emotion you don’t quite recognize. Not mischief exactly, but a little more timid. Pride perhaps, but that seems equally as strange.
“It’s not my sword he’s crafting,” he says plainly, before turning around fully and making his way towards the opposite end of the room.
Turning around to face Changbin once more, you find that he’s still watching you intently, awaiting your answer. Feeling utterly out of your element, you lamely point to the wall of swords you were looking at upon walking inside.
“Maybe one of those?” You offer, and instead of teasing you on your lack of specificality, the blacksmith hums in understanding.
“Your classic longsword, good choice,” he says thoughtfully, before looking you up and down, mostly likely to get an idea of what length it should be. “Any other requests design wise? Like the colour and style of the hilt?”
Your initial response is to say no, assume his own expertise would be able to come up with something far better than your lack thereof, but you hesitate for a moment.
The weight in your pocket suddenly makes itself prominent, and an idea pops into your mind. Risky, certainly, the thievery of the necklace being something you had planned to keep a secret from the three men.
But the fact of the matter remains that this journey will be both a long and dangerous one, and attempting to keep such an expensive, as well as large piece of jewelry in your pocket for the entirety of the time seems just plain foolish.
Pulling the necklace from your pocket, you hold it out to him in the flesh of your palm. “Could you embed this sapphire in the bottom of the hilt?”
Eyebrows raising slightly, Changbin reaches forward to hold the jewel in his hand, examining it closely. “That shouldn’t be too difficult,” the blacksmith mutters under his breath, before glancing back up towards you. “And what of the diamonds?”
You answer before you even really consider the words. “Keep them.”
Eyebrows now launching entirely upwards, he sputters in practical disbelief. “My dear,” he starts, granting you a look of complete and utter incredulity. “That is far too much for simply crafting a sword.”
He’s right, but carrying around a string of diamonds seems like a plea for them to either be stolen or lost. Besides, it is not your only request. “Don’t worry about it,” you start, before nodding a head towards San, who intently spins an arrow in his hands as he examines it. “You just have to promise me that you won’t mention this to him.”
Changbin’s expression furrows at this, glancing between San and the expensive necklace that sits in his palm, as if weighing his options.
After a moment, however, a small smile crosses the corner of his lips.
The blacksmith extends a hand out towards you, and this time you accept it with far less hesitancy. “You, my dear, have got yourself a deal.”
Wooyoung is tired.
He’s tired of San. He’s tired of Seonghwa. He’s tired of them being so damn clueless, helping some girl they met in the woods when it’s so painfully obvious there’s something terribly offabout you.
He doesn’t trust you, and he feels that distrust as a strange tickling that itches beneath his skin, telling him that you are nothing but a bad omen for their party. What this feeling is or where it comes from he can’t quite place, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s a constant turn in his gut that tells him that this entire trip to Kuroku is bad news.
But his companions won’t listen to him, as at some point within the last two days, they both decided that the word of complete stranger is more valuable than his own.
Idiots, both of them.
Yet, begrudgingly, they’re also both sort of his idiots, so by default he’s the one who has to deal with the consequences of their own stupid actions.
Seonghwa in particular is making this the most difficult, as for some unknown reason, he’s decided to pine extra hard for your delivery to Kuroku.
Well, it’s not exactly a mystery, as Wooyoung thinks it’s quite obvious that Seonghwa is thinking with his heart - as well as likely his dick - rather than any form of logic.
And yet, Wooyoung is the one who’s out of line here, who isn’t being reasonable.
Frankly, it’s laughable.
“This place seems good,” Seonghwa says, motioning to the tavern standing in front of them. It’s a quaint, run-down little place, and thus a bit cheaper than the other taverns they’d visited around town. The owner was also extra kind, an older lady who’d agreed to give them a bit of a discount when they mentioned they were harbouring a Libaiyan refugee.
So, at the very least, it turns out you weren’t lying about that. Talk about the besiegement of Libaiya has been all over town, news seeming to have traveled faster than majority of the mysterious army of black-clad men that took hold of the castle, as well as murdered The King. Many Libaiyans, at least those lucky enough to have escaped the kingdom before it’s been placed under lockdown, have found themselves in Stockholm. A first stop on a journey north to safer lands, similar to the journey in which Woo has now found himself.
And yet, while your story now seems to be something far less out of the ordinary, he still can’t bring himself to let his guard down. That strange, tingling feeling that something is off about this whole ordeal still itching beneath his skin, turning within his gut.
He doesn’t trust you, and he doubts he ever will.
Wooyoung nods in agreement to Seonghwa’s statement about the tavern, and thus the blonde continues. “Should we meet back up with Yeji and San then? They’re probably still in the market square.”
He hates how Seonghwa says your name, so kind and gentle. The blonde may as well have his face turn a light pink hugh, hearts replacing where his pupils once were. Maybe start kicking his feet in the air and tracing your names together on parchment.
Wooyoung wonders if the man is aware of how disgustingly obvious he is.
Rolling his eyes, instead of answering he simply turns on his heel, back onto the street and heading towards the market square. Seonghwa trails behind him, and although he doesn’t say anything in response, he doesn’t refrain from letting out a deep, frustrated sigh at Woo’s suspense.
“Yeah,”Wooyoung thinks to himself, tired. “That’s how I feel too.”
After a few minutes walking in silence, Seonghwa suddenly puts a hand on Woo’s shoulder, close to the nape of his neck. The elemental is careful to ignore the way his heart stutters slightly at the sentiment, the way his breath catches in his throat for a moment.
Nowthat is something he won’t let his conscience touch with a ten foot pole, and he’s doing well to keep it that way.
“Hey, let’s take a look,” Seonghwa says, nodding towards the billboard of postings just outside the town’s main watering hole. It’s a place they check every time they come to Stockholm, where the villagers can make different requests for tasks they’re willing to pay for.
In the trio’s own interest, it’s sometimes used for hunting monsters, the villager’s thought of completing such dangerous bloodshed themselves far too terrifying. It’s been a few times now that they’ve killed a nasty beast, a basilisk having nestled itself in the town’s sewer system once, or the time a mimic decided to wreak havoc in the tavern’s at night.
It’s become a good way to make some extra cash, and Wooyoung’s glad that Seonghwa is able to at least keep his head clear enough to not ignore that as well.
Taking a moment to scan the billboard, it’s almost immediate how one posting in particular grabs his attention. Partially due to the fact it’s almost double the size as the rest, but mostly because beneath the large letters reading “WANTED” there is not the drawing of a monster, but of a person.
WANTED: PRINCESS OF LIBAIYA
LAST SEEN RIDING ON HORSEBACK TOWARDS STOCKHOLM
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: 250,000 GOLD PIECES
Seonghwa whistles lowly, the posting clearly having caught his own attention as well. “250,000 gold pieces, that’s a fortune.”
“We could retire on that alone,” Wooyoung adds, leaning in a little closer to examine the portrait. After a moment, he rips it off the billboard, to which Seonghwa gasps in protest at the act of vandalism.
The corner of Wooyoung’s lip twitches upward, he’s so easy to rile up.
“Hey, what are you doing? Put that back!” Seonghwa rushes quietly as Wooyoung pays no mind to him, continuing his way back towards the town square.
“Relax,” Wooyoung says easily, casting a lazy glance over his shoulder at the blonde. “I just think San may want to see it, that’s all.”
And although he won’t admit it outloud, another part of him wishes that San may agree to abandon the trip to Kuroku entirely. It’s not too unfair of a statement, as if they get the money they need in a different way, then why even bother with this extraneous, risky journey anyways?
After all, she was last seen heading in the same direction they’re headed. Who knows who they might stumble into along the way, so long as he keeps an eye out.
Then things can go back to the way they were. Comfortable and predictable, just the way he likes them to be.
Maybe all Wooyoung needs to do is find the Princess of Libaiya himself.
The sketch doesn’t look like you.
That’s the first thing that enters your mind when Woo hands the piece of parchment over to San, who takes it in his hands before scanning it intently.
Casting a discreet glance over his shoulder, your heart seizes in fear at the first glance of the headline: “WANTED: PRINCESS OF LIBAIYA.”
The bodily urge to take off down the nearest street and away from the band of thieves as quickly as possible is your immediate instinct. However, after a glance down at the sketch of you below the statement, the fear dissipates as quickly as it originally arrived.
Because the sketch doesn’t look like you. It simply doesn’t, none of your features identical to your own. Eyes and nose the completely wrong size and hair not to the proper length nor texture, you aren’t even sporting the peasant’s clothes you escaped in.
None of the men seem to observe any sort of resemblance either, as San’s eyes flicker over the pamphlet lazily, no flash of any sort of connection.
“Hm, would you look at that,” San mutters, the corner of his lip pulling upward in a smirk. “Looks like someone is willing to pay a pretty penny for little Miss Princess.”
“A pretty penny doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Woo grins, taking the parchment from San’s hands and holding it up before him. “It’s a fucking fortune.”
You know they don’t recognize that the picture is of you - and you’re certain they won’t, as you wouldn’t either - but the conversation makes you nervous nonetheless. After all, listening to your guides talk about just how much money they’d make turning you into whatever bounty hunters may be after you isn’t exactly your favourite topic.
“You see this?” Woo says, and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you. Granting him a brief nod in response, he continues, tone only slightly condescending. “She’s your friend right - or sorry - yourboss?”
This seems to peak Seonghwa’s interest. “Right, you know her, don’t you Yeji?”
You hate this. You hate this. You hate this.
“Yeah, I do,” you respond, doing your best to keep your voice steady, feigning a level of disinterest.
“And?” San asks, casting you a curious glance. “What’s Miss Silverspoon like?”
Now, you aren’t a fool. You can tell that the answer to the question must be a calculated one, and it unfortunately doesn’t come easily, as you’re unsure exactly how to play this one out.
Naturally, your first instinct is to defend yourself. The men’s tones all clearly hold a level of distaste and passive aggression, and you don’t exactly wish to sully your reputation, especially considering your reputation is all you really have to hold onto.
But your instincts have always been far more emotional than logical, and logic is all you can afford.
“She’s a brat,” you answer with a shrug, and Woo actually lets out a laugh at this, a bark of surprise.
“Really?” He asks, as if almost impressed by your bluntness.
Swallowing down the bile that arises in your throat at the thought of anything you do impressing Woo, you push forward. It’s decidedly better for you not to defend her - or, well, you- so that they don’t associate these two identities together. If they think you hate the Libaiyan Princess, they are far less likely to think that she could possibly be you.
“Yeah, she is,” you continue, even adding a roll of the eyes. “She’s spoiled. Bossy, a tad arrogant.”
It almost hurts to say, considering you loved your staff, and only ever treated them with grace and kindness. But alas, desperate times.
“Not that surprising,” Woo adds, raising his hands above his head in a stretch, before letting out a yawn that he speaks his next words through. “She’s filthy rich, after all. Why care about the rest of us little folk?”
You swallow down the annoyed response that arises hot in the back of your throat. Of course you care about your people, and you certainly don’t refer to them as “little folk”.
And frankly, the blatant assumption that you ever would cause a sharp pulse of anger to course through you, fist clenching tightly at your side.
Yet, even with the moment’s fury, you won’t act on it. What your people need is for you to get to Kuroku, and you will do everything in your power to make that happen.
Whether Woo is aware of it or not, let this be your act of service to prove just how much you care for them, even if it means dragging your own name and reputation through the dirt.
“No kidding,” you say, going as far as to add a laugh of your own, even though the words taste like bile along your tongue. “It’s been a long summer, I just want to get home.”
And although you’re attempting to make a connection with him, the comment does not earn the response you were expecting.
“What, back to your mansion?” Woo interjects, tone sharp. You blink, surprised by the sudden aggression, as well as unsure of where exactly he got that idea.
But the realization comes quickly. Your family - or better, fakefamily - is also wealthy enough to pay them big. Big enough to make the journey, which means such wealth would also accompany other riches like a mansion, servant staff, fine furniture and decor, and most likely all the other luxuries he seems to resent you and the royal family for.
And while it wasn’t something you were exactly holding on to, your one chance of getting Woo to lay off of you, even if only for a moment, evaporates before your eyes.
So be it. It’s not as if you have any desire to bond with the elemental anyways.
“And why would you be pissy about that?” You ask, happy enough to let out some of your harbouring frustration towards him from the “little folk” comment. “It’s inyour best interest, or have you forgotten why you’re here?”
Woo doesn’t say much in response to this, but you don’t miss the way he not-so-subtly rolls his eyes.
“I’m sure we’re almost at the tavern,” San says, his tone exhausted, mouth drawing into a thin line. “Let’s try to keep the bickering to a minimum.”
“Please,” Seonghwa adds, casting a pointed glance in Woo’s direction. If Woo notices, he doesn’t say anything, but rather picks up his pace to walk ahead of your group.
He’s clearly pissed, and something tells you it has to do with a little more than your minor argument, although what exactly you can’t quite place.
Turning suddenly, the elemental opens the door to a quaint little building to your right, surely the tavern he and Seonghwa had discovered earlier. However, as you move to follow in after him, you are not greeted by the cozy atmosphere of a tavern, but rather the wooden door swinging back into your nose.
Did he just…?
Tears welling in your eyes from the suddenness of the blow, you take a step back, rubbing your nose bridge. Blinking rapidly as San pushes past you and into the tavern with a newfound sense of urgency, mostly likely to rip into Woo for the upteenth time.
“Are you okay?” Seonghwa asks, eyes filling with genuine concern as you pull away your hand from your nose, fingers now coated in the blood dripping from your nostril.
You simply nod in response, because really, you are okay. You’re not even angry, no longer containing the energy to chase after the elemental, give him a slap even harder than yesterday’s.
No, you aren’t angry, you’re tired.
Tired of bleeding and the constant bickering, of not being able to see yourself when you look in the mirror. Tired of constantly being on guard and afraid that someone may find out your true identity, whether it be the people of the town or your own travel party.
You’re just tired of it all.
And when you reopen the tavern door and find San angrily whispering in Woo’s direction, who appears as indifferent and disinterested as always, only one thought springs to mind:
Kuroku cannot come fast enough.
The sword is beautiful.
Twisting the weapon around in your hand, it’s cool against your skin as you gently run your fingers down the steel of the blade. The hilt covered in a white shagreen, the metal work surrounding the leather is impressive, gilded flowers and thorns spanning across the sword’s guard.
Then, at the very bottom of the hilt, your sapphire glistens, the rich blue almost glowing against the rest of the blade’s white and silver design. It’s almost art rather than a sword, as well as a piece of your old home and family nestled within the new path of life you’ve found yourself embarking on.
Changbin truly outdid himself.
If San noticed the sapphire when the two of you picked the sword back up from the blacksmith in the evening, he didn’t say anything. However, you’re certain it’s only a matter of time before one of them does, the jewel much more noticeable than you had originally expected it to be.
You aren’t sure if they’ll even recognize it, the piece of jewelry holding far more significance to yourself than any of them.
Perhaps it’s not even them noticing it that you’re worried about, but rather what the jewel represents. You’d called them thieves and criminals, yet you’re the one lying to them. You’re the one who stole the necklace back, who paid off one of their friends to keep it a secret.
Who are you to judge them?
Who are you? Because frankly, it’s becoming more and more difficult to recognize yourself, both in your reflection as well as your actions.
Tears begin to glisten in your eyes, and you suppose now is a good time to finally let them fall. After all, you’re alone. The three men are downstairs in the tavern, most likely drinking and having a good time with the rest of the people in Stockholm. Drinking and exchanging stories with people they recognize, as well as others they don’t.
You know, like normal people do. Like people who were permitted to have friends that weren’t restricted to their castle staff or people their father considered to have good political influence. Who have stories because they can actually follow what they dream of, and love people without having to keep it a secret, so less it becomes a scandal to be told all across Burovia.
You sigh, laying back on your rented bed, eyes staring at the roof above you. The self-pity makes you feel gross, even if not spoken aloud. You’re lucky to have lived in luxury, and it feels wrong to suggest anything otherwise.
And yet, a part of you can’t help but yearn. Yearn for a life where all those things could be true. Where you wouldn’t be where you are now.
Where you wouldn’t have lost so damn much.
The first tear slips from your eye when there’s a knock at the door. “It’s open,” you shout, sniffling slightly as you quickly swipe it away.
The door opens just a crack, a head of blonde hair peeking inside. “Are you busy?” Seonghwa asks, a small smile tracing his lips. Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile too.
Blinking away any remnant of remaining tears, you nod. “No, no. Come in,” you say, waving him inside.
“I figured you might want some company,” he says, softly shutting the door behind him. Raising up a bottle of whisky in his hand, he also shrugs, sounding almost shy. “I also have this. Thought it would be a little sad to drink it alone.”
You chuckle at this, and frankly, you would really appreciate a drink at the moment. Pouring a hearty serving into each of the complimentary glasses stationed on the room’s dresser, Seonghwa hands one over to you.
“Not one for the tavern scene?” You ask, before motioning for him to sit down beside you on the bed, feeling a tad awkward to keep him standing. He hesitates only for a moment, before sitting beside you, although careful to keep a respectful distance apart.
It’s a little endearing, you must admit.
“Sometimes, if I’m really in the mood for it,” he replies, gaze fluttering over to you. “But it’s always been more San and Woo’s thing than mine.”
You hum at this, taking a sip of the whisky, which burns hot on your tongue. You’ve only ever really been permitted wine before, or champagne on celebratory occasions. Your father often considered whisky to be a commoner’s drink, unless it had been aged for upmost of three decades, then he’d consider it to be a man’s drink.
“What about you?” Seonghwa asks. “Not your scene either?”
You aren’t really sure how to respond, never having been in a tavern yourself. But after a moment, you decide the truth doesn’t seem too forbidden. At least part of it, anyway.
“I’ve never been in one,” you answer, to which Seonghwa’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “My father doesn’t really approve. I guess it’s not a very proper or feminine place to him.”
His raised eyebrows quickly furrow at this, mouth drawing into a frown in offence. “Well that’s ridiculous. There’s plenty of women down there, why should that matter?”
You simply shrug in response, and he sighs, gaze falling back in front of him. “But I guess I don’t know much about the properness of it. My family was never wealthy, and those sort of societal cues weren’t really an issue back in Maralya.”
You’re surprised at him bringing up his hometown, considering that last night the mere mention of it was enough to bring tears to his eyes.
But perhaps it’s liquid courage running through his veins, and although your budding curiosity is rather tempting, you don’t want to take advantage of a loose tongue.
“We don’t have to talk about that if it makes you uncomfort-” you start, but he cuts you off, tone reassuring.
“No, no. I want to,” he says, once again turning to face you. His eyes are not full of tears this time, but compassion. “I wanted to yesterday, but it was just… a lot. I’ve had the day to sit with it now, and I feel like I should explain why it makes me so…you know.”
Troubled, your mind fills in for him. Vulnerable.
The statement is understandable, so instead of stopping him, you simply let the blonde speak.
“There was a sickness that passed through about six years ago,” he says, tone reminiscent. “Some sort of fever, and people were dying all around us. Our neighbours, our baker and letter carrier.”
You can see the tears welling in his eyes again, although that small, pained smile remains present against his lips. “Eventually my half-brother caught it, and things weren’t looking very good, so my mother sent me away. Didn’t want me to catch it too, so she just begged me to leave before I could.”
“I’m so sorry,” you say, and he just laughs softly, looking down at his feet at the end of the bed.
“It’s alright. Or well, I think it is,” he says, hand fiddling with the tail end of his jacket mindlessly. “I’m not sure if I’ve really made peace with it, I’ve just kind of had to. I don’t know if any of them are alive, but I don’t think I’m ready to go back and check. Not ready to know the answer, I guess.”
Not really sure of what to say, his words all kinds of vulnerable you aren’t prepared to grant yourself. Fortunately, you find you don’t have to give an answer at all, as he continues. Shifting himself slightly to now fully face you, the sentiment feels far more close this way, more intimate and connected.
“I’m only telling you this because I know a lot of what we do can seem wrong, especially if you didn’t grow up on the streets,” he says softly, and there’s no judgement to his words, only sincerity. “Thievery and monster hunting? It was hard for me to wrap my head around at first too.”
“How did you end up with them, anyway?” You ask, leaving out the fact that he seems so utterly different from the other two. Woo full of more outright anger and power, San a more calculated and reserved sort of dangerous. Yet Seonghwa just seems so… good.
Better than them, but also far better than you.
The question brings a smile to his lips. “They jumped me.”
“What?” You ask, alarmed. Yet, despite the absurdness of his words, Seonghwa only laughs at your shocked expression.
“It had been a month or two since I was forced to leave home,” he explains, getting a little more relaxed and comfortable as he gestures with his hands, the topic clearly less painful for him. “I’d found myself in the town of Gloria, which we’ll actually pass within the next week or so.”
“I was lost, scared, and carrying all my items in a bag on my back, just trying to find a stable I could spend the night in for free. Then suddenly, the next thing I knew I was being held up against an alleyway, where one man in a hood punched me across the face, and the other sifted through my bag.”
You involuntarily bring a hand up to cover your mouth, jaw dropped in shock. The story sounds horrific, practically traumatizing on your end, but Seonghwa delivers it in such a lighthearted manner you aren’t sure if you’re hearing him correctly.
“Once they discovered how utterly nothing of value I had, they took off their hoods. And the one who’d been punching me asked how a boy who looked so princely could be worth jack-shit.”
“Woo, I’m assuming?” You ask, and Seonghwa laughs even louder than before as he nods in confirmation.
“Anyway, I was too distraught to respond. So I was just endlessly sobbing, and I guess they both felt kind of bad, so they took me to their own place. Which was really just a tent in the woods outside of the town.”
“They gave me some of what little food they had, and eventually I calmed down enough to tell them who I was and what happened to me,” he says, pausing only for a moment to look up and meet your eyes. “And even though the
Summary: “Doing all that to you was a mistake. How many times do I need to apologize to you to make you understand that I’m sorry for what I did. I’ve been groveling at your feet, hoping that you’ll forgive me and you hold it over my head constantly. If you hate me so much why are we even doing this,” he gestures between the two of you, “what’s the point?”
A/N: Okay yes I included two smut scenes, so what??? Also I’m actually very proud of how this turned out and I really enjoyed writing it. Shout out to @parkurhope for beta reading this and helping me out when I got stuck. Another shout out to everyone on the tag list, it makes my heart so happy that you all wanted a second part so thank you for expressing interest. Also if you’ve stumbled upon this and haven’t read the first part, you can find that here.
Sleeping was usually hard for Wooyoung, and this is not trying to intend that he doesn’t sleeps, or he dislikes it, all the contrary, he loves sleeping as much as he loves eating and cooking, and he loves it a lot. The thing is that, despite his liking for resting, his illness and himself didn’t allow him to as much as he’d want. There were nights were his mind just wasn’t up to sleep, either the meds causing some insomnia and giving him more energy than what he needed at night or his thoughts making it impossible of him, his ears picking all the sounds around him and holding on tight to them to the point were it was frustrating.
On the other nights when falling asleep wasn’t the challenge, the action of sleeping consistently without any type of disruption seemed to be an even worse for the man. Sometimes being awoken by the alarm of low oxygen levels in his blood at 11 p.m., or his body coughing him awake at 2 a.m. along with a lot of other stuff such as food sickness, headaches or other symptoms his body just turned on while he was fast asleep. Forcing him out of his dreams really constantly.
Sleeping was usually hard for Wooyoung, and this is not trying to intend that he doesn’t sleeps, or he dislikes it, all the contrary, he loves sleeping as much as he loves eating and cooking, and he loves it a lot. The thing is that, despite his liking for resting, his illness and himself didn’t allow him to as much as he’d want. There were nights were his mind just wasn’t up to sleep, either the meds causing some insomnia and giving him more energy than what he needed at night or his thoughts making it impossible of him, his ears picking all the sounds around him and holding on tight to them to the point were it was frustrating.
On the other nights when falling asleep wasn’t the challenge, the action of sleeping consistently without any type of disruption seemed to be an even worse for the man. Sometimes being awoken by the alarm of low oxygen levels in his blood at 11 p.m., or his body coughing him awake at 2 a.m. along with a lot of other stuff such as food sickness, headaches or other symptoms his body just turned on while he was fast asleep. Forcing him out of his dreams really constantly.
And tonight, much to his unfortune, it was rather a really annoying mix of both. Being woken up around 11:35 p.m. by some phlegm stuck in his throat causing him to cough in order to breathe again. And then, still drowsy and wanting to go back to sleep, even if his eyes were closed and his body relaxed, he wasn’t able to reconcile with dreaming again, a groan leaving him as he fumbled to his right side, tired.
After some more trying and failing to fall asleep again, the black haired man accepted his defeat against his body, picking up some chatting from outside his room, two male voices from which he recognized one, Doctor Seo Eunkwang’s voice resonated not too far away from his room door, probably from the front desk as he apparently gave an hospital introduction talk to the other male voice, which sounded younger.
He laid down for some more minutes trying to either identify the other voice or fall asleep again like it could be some sort of miracle he could hope for, damn well knowing it wasn’t actually going to happen anytime soon.
Tired of turning around over and over from left to right, feeling uncomfortable in his own bed under the blanket that now crumpled at his feet he felt the need of getting up, his bare feet making contact with the cold tiles of the white floor, eyes wandering around to find his slippers, slowly slipping his feet in once he spot them. The mattress cracked slightly under the shift of his weight as he stood up, stretching his back muscles, his right arm sore of staying on a weird pose while trying to sleep.
Where was Wooyoung going? To explore the hospital. Was it really late for that? Yes. Did he care? Actually no, considering that if he couldn’t sleep the least, he could do was something productive.
Closing the door behind him and putting his mask on over his oxygen cannulas the man was ready to go.
The hospital wing where he stayed at was actually pretty quiet, the furthest from the ER as possible, the only sounds that could be heard were the machines working inside each room muffled by the door along with the casual chatter between the night shift nurses. Walking where his feet guide him to, he spotted Dr. Seo, waving goodbye a man a little taller than him but much younger, probably near Wooyoung’s age, bag in his shoulder and ready to head home.
Right, he was one of those that could leave the hospital and go home, unlike him.
“Is something wrong Wooyoung?” The doctor asked as he spot his new patient.
“No sir, I just couldn’t sleep so I’m going to walk around a bit.”
“Oh sure, be careful of the other CF patients, they tend to walk around too.” He smiled, warning him sweetly as he started walking again towards the elevator. “Goodnight.”
“Mhm. ‘Night.” He waved, his eyes following the older man until he was out of eye reach.
The other CF patients.
All he has heard from the multiple nurses he had talk to was about the other CFs, yet he never spots any of them, almost as if they were a legend, a ghost that haunted him.
“You are the new guy?” Another voice pulled him out of his thought, turning around just to be met by a pair of big dark eyes that smiled at him friendly, the guy that Dr. Seo was talking to.
“Uh, yeah… I’m Wooyoung.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Seonghwa, one of the night shift nurses.” The man said, his mind leaving a bunch of files on the desk besides him.
“Same to you.” He muttered, quickly scanning the man, wanting to pay attention to who he was talking to and who he very much would see every day. He was a bit taller than Wooyoung, but not too tall to stand out for it, his hair was black and a bit wavy as it rested against his forehead, parted in the middle, his eyes were happy and curious, his face quite peculiar, in a good way, giving him an air that reminded Wooyoung of a calm river.
“You look quite young to be a licensed nurse.” He spoke his mind, bringing a chuckle out of the nurse, who nodded along with his words.
“I’ve heard that a lot lately, but I graduated not too long ago, I’m almost 24.” He said, checking occasionally on the monitor for any patient call.
“Alright, I’ll leave you be.” He says, passing the little bag with his little portable oxygen tank through his arm for it to hang in his shoulder. “See you around I guess.”
“See you Wooyoung, I’m going to be here if you need me.” He said, nodding to him as he smiled warmly, not in the pitying type of way other nurses smiled at him on his previous hospital, this smile Seonghwa held was more of the friendly kind, a genuine one.
“Bye.” He said seconds before turning around and keeping up on his walk, hands resting on his sweatpants’ pockets, mind concentrated in analyzing the hospital he now habited, the white walls he would see now daily, mind formulating his new routine.
It wasn’t until he reached the glass walled bridge between his wing and the middle hospital wind that he was able to spot the night outside, the shining lights of the hospital surrounding, big building rising high not too far away, the dark but clear sky allowing the almost full moon to be appreciated by the eye, it may not be much but for Wooyoung, it was enough to put a tiny refreshing smile under his mask.
“I guess it won’t be too bad.” He muttered for himself, eyes scanning the lights until something grabbed his attention, his ears picking some sweet voice humming lowly to a song he could not pinpoint where he heard it before.
It was kind of enchanting for him, his feet moving to where his ears said, following the sound to find the source of it, hearing it from his right, back to his hospital wings and up the stairs, the more he walked the louder the sound got and the more he liked the tune of it. He went up the stairs, not too slow but definitely not fast or harsh enough for his steps to be easily heard.
Bip, bip.
“Fuck.” He couldn’t help but say, checking up on his oxygen tank to see if it was already that low, but the little screen held a pretty noticeable 75%. “Huh? What was that sound then?” He thought to himself, checking his phone to find no notifications.
“Oh shit.” He heard, not noticing until that very moment how the humming had stopped until all he heard was rushed steps, closer and closer to him, almost startling him until, from the top of the set pf stairs he saw a figure, a female figure, who was panting a bit. “Move!” She exclaimed, and who was he not to, so he moved to his side, his hips resting against the railing before she almost sprinted down the set of stairs and got lost, her steps slowly becoming further and further, until he didn’t hear them anymore.
“Well, that was something…” He said to himself, alone again in the staircase, silence ruling now. “Wait, the song…” He started, gaze looking up to the rest of stairs that went up for at least two more stores and then down, action that he repeated a couple of times. “It was her?”
Still, his heart wanted to hear more of the song, so hopeful he kept on the set of stairs, set by set until he reached the door of the rooftop. He maybe could go to the rooftop, but he had forgot his sweater back at his room and didn’t want to catch anything that would make his life harder. How would it feel like wanting to do something and being able to do so without thinking of conditions? Wooyoung did not knew, all he knew was to always have his sickness in mind, his whole world revolving around it even if he spited it.
He surrendered for the night, having no more choice that going back down. Reaching his floor, he looked out to the unexplored wing of the hospital, not finding it in him to go and keep on looking around this new home of his, resigning to just go back to his room, and maybe talk to Seonghwa if he was around. He needed new friends here.
Steps slow and light, hands on his sweatpants’ pockets, mind somewhere far away, unconsciously humming to the sweet melody he heard on the stair case, the melody still fresh in some corner of his memory, replaying over and over again like a broken record player, but he didn’t mind at all, not when it brought such a warm feeling inside of him, contrasting severely with the cold air of the air conditioning the hallway had, skin cold and inside warm, making him feel cozy in his body after quite some months of it.
“You’re back that soon?” Seonghwa asked, spotting the black-haired as he walked out of one of the rooms, some sort of content concern in his features as he closed the door, the cart of supplies guided by his opposite hand.
“Got bored, going to try and sleep a bit more.” He says, nodding to him before walking up to his door. “Goodnight.” He said before opening up and closing behind him, taking his mask off and the oxygen tank, putting it in its place besides his bed. The melody still playing in his mind, gears unable to process anything else.
His back hit he mattress, cold again after his absence, blanket refreshing enough to make him feel comfortable again, snuggling until the blanket sits under his now bare feet, the moment his head hits the pillow he doesn’t feel the same heaviness of insomnia again, a part of him hoping to sleep, and the other having no hope in feeling well rested the moment the morning hits, used to his unintentional routine. He tries closing his eyes, shifting away from the window and the light that came from the outside, maybe he needed curtains.
While recalling his day, he reached his “outing”, the people he met and what he had heard, unable to move forward of the melody in the stairs while not knowing why; slowly and unexpectedly the sweet humming in the back of his mind soothing him to sleep.
Having a good night of sleep was something rare for Jung Wooyoung. But tonight, it apparently didn’t bother him at all, a sweet melody ghosting his ears and a pair of unknown eyes appearing just before dozing off into his hospital bed.
This is a work of fiction, people mentioned or involved are actual human beings and none of this work is based on actual facts over the celebrities mentioned nor is intented to portray them in a realistic way.
Some themes are not factually acurate, any problem detected on the information given may be comunicated to me via DM.
