Historical Au - Tumblr Posts

this needs an extension 😩 the amount of dramatic-passionate drama this could lead into ❤️‍🔥😫

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧

prince!ji changmin x f!reader (slight juyeon x reader)

1.0k words, my emotional support royalty au, high-key historical au, lots of not-dialogue, literally i don't think swan song will ever fully see the light of day but i love it a little too much to keep her buried

a/n: this is serpent & dove's partner,, except i set the stage for a villain arc bc who doesn't love a villain arc

The moment Ji Changmin stopped wishing to be a part of the family was the one wherein you made your debut into society. There were rules to the royal court, rules that Changmin had long since been schooled in. There were boxes he was placed within, boundaries he was not meant to cross, but there were few invisible, unspoken hierarchies that were always enforced that he had to pick out on his own.

He was only eighteen when he found your familiar eyes, shining in glazed-over discomfort, as you curtsied low at the top of the stairs and made your descent. An official had announced your arrival at the door, and he already spied the dance card dangling from your wrist.

Unspoken Rule One: Bastard children never got first pick.

The main ballroom of the palace was decorated immaculately for this year's debutante ball. Heavy silks embroidered in fine, gold thread were draped from the crystalline window panes; the chandeliers glistened with beads of light like fiery embers; the dance floor was polished and his suit was tight. He couldn't remember tying his tie on so tightly, but the way you looked tonight made him want to break form and loosen the grip of his collar around his neck.

He had never seen you in such tightly laced garb, and he had never seen you so nervous. You, Yn Ln, beloved middle child of the phoenix-represented Ln family—the phoenix a symbol of how generations of your family long ago had risen from the ashes of destitution to the mighty lordship of its current day and age. Your good name automatically thrust you into the limelight, whether you liked it or not.

You were eighteen years old, same as Changmin. You had asked your handmaiden to lace your corset up a little tighter, opting for the one that was made specifically for occasions such as these. It had not been your choice to don the dark, blood red brocade for tonight's festivities—it had been your mother's. You hadn't realized your family even cared to show off their middle child, but you supposed if they could ship you off as quickly as possible, it would be one less daughter to pay attention to.

Unspoken Rule Two: Daughters never got to choose.

It was difficult to not meet his eyes—the pair that you recognized so easily from the academy. The pair you often found yourself staring into as they laughed, as they pondered, as they brooded. He was beautiful, the kind of strong that wasn't brutish, but softer. He was a snake amongst wolves, perhaps the predator that no one ever saw coming.

Your dance card was empty, but his name seared itself into each slot, stealing away each dance like he had stolen a bit of you after all this time. (Or maybe all of you. You wouldn't have minded if that were the case.)

It wouldn't have been appropriate if he left his place from the dais first. It definitely would not have been appropriate if he had left the dais before every other girl was introduced. The room was full of chaperones and young men eyeing their prospects as they filed in, one by one.

(A room of hungry wolves encasing the pack of sheep who had waltzed in, bedazzled and smiling.)

You knew the game though, and you figured two negatives would have to make a positive. Right? That was how it could work. That was the loophole you and Changmin had concocted all those late nights spent in the academy library, tucked away in the corner of the myths and legends aisle, huddled together, conspiring a way to come out of this alive.

Not just alive, but together.

Unspoken Rule Three: Watch out for the wolves.

You were already on your way toward his side of the dais. The half prince was beautiful, but he was only second in line. He had half the blood of royalty; how many would seek him out first?

And there was a spike of hope in your heart. It singed through your glazed expression and made the corners of your cherry-stained lips turn upward in that sickening feeling of hope.

Eyes pinned to the other, you could see the glee in his own expression. It was going to work. This would work how you'd planned, how you'd hoped, how you'd schemed and mapped. You two knew the food chain better than anyone else—it simply had to.

But the room fell quiet as a form stepped before you, blocking your view of the second prince. He was just as beautiful as his half brother, the gold crown seated upon his raven locks a beacon of pride and power. He had kind eyes, a pair you weren't as familiar with, but knew well enough. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his smile gracious and almost shy.

"Lady Yn," Crown Prince Juyeon said to you as you dropped into a curtsey and he, a bow, "may I have the honor of stealing your first dance?"

The room was silent. You swore your heart beat thundered against the golden walls of the ballroom.

You couldn't say no. Not to the crown prince. Not in front of everyone.

Perhaps there were things you and Changmin hadn't taken into account.

Unspoken Rule Four: The Crown Prince always gets what he wants.

By some miracle, you found your voice and fitted your quivering, gloved hand into his. "Of course, Your Royal Highness. It would be my honor."

And as Prince Juyeon led you to the polished marble dance floor, you stole a glance behind you at the dais. The second prince stood frozen on his platform, his form never having broken. But in the split second you looked back at him, you couldn't mistake the flash of a promise in those dark eyes you'd fallen so deeply into all these years.

It was a promise… at least, that was what you had thought, as you plastered a smile on your face and let Juyeon lead you through dance after dance. But you should have known better than to think so little of Ji Changmin.

a/n: me taking back my blog bc i can post what i want right :')

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs

it’s got pace, it’s got fluffy-romance covered in amusing banter. Overall, an absolute gem of a read 😆💗

this was sitting in my, “to read list”, for way too long, now I’m sad it’s over 🥹

savior [kunhang]

❧ word count: 24.3k

❧ warnings: cursing, a near death experience but for comedic effect

❧ genre: fluff, royal au, prince kunhang, princess reader

❧ extra info: based off this text post

“Isn’t the idea supposed to be ‘you saved my life, now I owe you a debt’?”

“Nope,” the man shook his head firmly, seeming absolutely delighted. “Other way around. You saved my life, so now I’m your problem. If you don’t like it, then kill me.”

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embracing one-another’s presence 🌱

The Sun Shines in the Knight | Mark Lee

playlist

summary: golden, as i open my eyes. hold it, focus, hoping; take me back to the light. — golden, harry styles. / mark doesn’t want to fall in love, but he doesn’t want to be forgotten, either.

words: 4.05k+

category: knight!mark x gardener!reader, gender neutral reader, mark is on the ace/aro spectrum but idk how to label it, mark is in love with the sun.

warning(s): injuries, anxiety

a/n: this is lowkey inspired by me and my friend but its also taken a mind of it’s own

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sobbing, cause like you can feel whats going to happen, but that still doesn’t make it feel any better 😭

arrow | k.dy

pairing: kim doyoung x reader 

genre: angst, fluff  (outlaw!au, robinhood!au, medieval!au)

warnings: mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood/gore/violence, major character death

description:

Doyoung makes you promise him something you’re not so sure you can keep.

words: 8.1k

notes: phew ok so i finally got this baby up after it had been slowly collecting dust in google docs. if im being completely honest im not that confident in this piece (when am i ever lol) but regardles i hope you enjoy! also feedback is always greatly appreciated! :) 

- lilac

The sound of thundering hooves pierces through the night. You move with their rhythm. Faster. Faster. Faster. You need to get away. Need to escape. 

You can barely make out the path in front of you, the only source of light you have is the periodic flashes of lightning from the storm that rages above you. The wind howls past you as you get faster, the sound of it mingling with the rushing of blood in your ears. Always faster. The rain that soaks through your cloak is unforgiving, and combined with the ice cold wind it chills to the bone. You press yourself closer to your horse, seeking both to accelerate and to receive at least some form of warmth. 

Hooves continue to pound against the ground beneath you, but you know the sound isn’t coming from solely your own horse. You can’t make out the figures behind you but their shouts cut through the noise of the storm. 

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they all found their happiness in the end! <3

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

Kings Serie Masterlist

Haechan x reader, Jeno x reader, royalty!au Summary: You, a pregnant servant of Jeno and abandoned by him, the future king of Suyon, wants revenge and goes after the only person who can help you. Haechan, the future king of Taegoji and archenemy of Jeno, accepts but on one condition: that you become his queen.

⨶ Chapters [FINISHED]

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Final | Special I

⨶ On Spotify 

⨶ Manips

One |

aww they grew to love each others presence ~ 👑

Checkmate

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff but it gets slightly steamy at one point (still totally sfw)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: You and Haechan get engaged, because anything is better than the process of trying to get engaged. That being said, having a fiancé you hate isn’t that much better.

Author’s notes: remember me???????? I’m alive, yeah. I’m super proud of this fic, I think it’s my best ever, so please give it a read!!

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Haechan inhaled the overwhelming scent of floral perfume, and barely managed to stifle a gag. His father arranged for him to meet more and more foreign princesses every week, and he wondered where the man even kept finding them. Were there even this many countries? The prince’s surroundings were beginning to blend into a blur of painted smiles and emotionless eyes. He cursed that stubborn old man in his mind, and questioned furiously why it was even so important that he find a bride any time soon. Still, no matter how much he despised it, he knew his father wouldn’t accept anything less. 

He looked into the sea of lace gowns and resigned himself.

Maybe he’d just choose someone. Anyone. He smiled morosely, knowing all the women there were only after their shot at the throne anyway. They were here to use him, why shouldn’t he use them too? The apathetic thought left a bad taste on his tongue. Still, in his exhaustion at his circumstances, it seemed more and more reasonable the longer he considered it.

He searched throughout the crowd of giggling princesses, unable to distinguish between their faces. 

One after another, they approached him, with candied smiles and words that were far too practiced. One after another, they convinced him a loveless marriage with someone half-decent was far preferable to enduring this a moment longer. One after another, they revealed themselves to be absolutely unbearable, and Haechan grew more and more desperate to find someone that didn’t make him want to throw himself off a balcony after three sentences.

You stood at the back of the crowd, prodded by impatient elbows and sneered at by women hiding their smirks behind fans. You rolled your eyes, unable to understand this need, this hunger to marry someone they’d never met. That was your problem, according to your parents. And your advisors. And your tutors. According to everyone, really. You’d been to so many different kingdoms, trying to seduce unfamiliar princes, but could never bring yourself to actually put any effort into it. The carriage that shipped you to each one was beginning to feel more like home than the castle you’d left.

You watched girl after girl leave the ballroom, looking thoroughly dejected. It was hard not to relish in their failure just a bit, but you dreaded whatever high standards this prince was going to judge you with. You had little to offer. Your background, your kingdom, your land- none could remotely compare to his. Your parents were completely insane to even think you had anything that would make you lucrative as a bride to him.

Maybe they’re hoping he’ll behead me. You chuckled.

Still, the crowd continued to thin, and you couldn’t put off meeting him forever. A few of the weaker-hearted girls nudged you forward, suddenly less eager to meet the sharp-tongued prince. 

You sighed, and decided to get it over with.

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Historical AU (Ot 7)

Summary : You were the daughter who was born in the poor family.You tried your best to work hard and provided every thing for your family.As a street musian during the day and in the whorehouse during the night.However one day,you came back home and saw your parents beaten up.You then got to know that your parents owe a large amount of money.The next day you went to the shark loaner and talked about it.However they didn’t listen to your offer and tried to kidnap you.That was when a man pop up from nowhere and saved you.In return of his act,you became a musician in the Castle.Leading to know who he was along with his friends...

note : Timeline of the story was in Choson Period.

Kim Namjoon : Equerry of the prince

- He was a year older than the prince.It answered why he was so close with the prince.They were like brothers to each other.He was a child of the ex-equerry of the king.Unfortunately his father died during his duty.The king decided to take care of him and made hime become a equerry for his son,the prince.

- Although he was the youngest of all,he was indeed intelligent compare to others around his age.He had an important role when it comes to planning about the security and crime suppress division.

- With that serious look of him,he was a warm hearted person who would always help you.The first day you came here,he was the guide for you.He also introduced to his 2 friends as well,Hoseok and Yoongi.They were the son’s of the duke.

Kim Seokjin : The prince’s cousin

- He was prince charming.The son’s of prince uncle who ruled the neighbor kingdom.If his father didn’t married and decided to be a king for the neigbor kingdom with his beloved queen,Seokjin himself would be the crown prince.

- Although he didn’t visit the kingdom and his cousin often.You met him by accident when you came across him practice archery with the prince.That was when the prince introduce you and him to know each other.

- His skill in combat was brilliant especially with sword.Namjoon once took you to watch him train other cambat skill after finish with archery.Archery might not his thing but with sword,it was different story.

Min Yoongi : The (North position)duke son

- One of Namjoon friend who always had dead face.It wasn’t because he already dead and still walking like zombie(that’s creppy lol).It was his personality. He didn’t bother with surrounding.However if he happy,he will be sunshine like his friend,Hoseok, as well.He was kind of poet persona.

- Although at first it looked boring,when you actually got to know him you would change your mind.It was like one of his good.Beside Namjoon,he was the other one who would understand deeply about philosophy,life and all.

- Don’t you dare to mess with him.He would be really agressive if he got trigger by someone.He could get mad easily.Once you cross the line,he would make sure whoever did that regret it.Don’t forget that his father was the leader of duke who took care of the North area.

Jung Hoseok : The (South position)duke son

- Fun fact ; his father wasn’t so friendly with Yoongi’s father.Since his father was the leader for the south part.They would always throw the arrogant look to each other.However their sons were best friend with each other.

- The sunshine,happy virus,clown or anything that would use to describe something relate to happy and fun.Those word could also describe him.He looked cheerful everytime you saw him.Not to mention that he was a good listener when you felt so blue.

- Every girls aware of him as player since he looked so friendly.You couldn’t blame them since at first that was your thought.However it was you who thought so much.He just friendly with everyone and harmless.

Park Jimin : Muscian

- You felt like he didn’t like your presence.He then came to you and apologized for making you think of that.He just felt nervous around girl since you’re the first to approach him.‘Mostly they think that I’m gay so none of them approach me.’

- You wondered why people think of him like that.You didn’t knew the answer until saw him dancing.He told you that his mother was the dancer for the royal show with the fans and he learned that from her.He ended up knowing how to dance like that which suppose to be girl’s thing.

- He became your best friend in no time as you guys work together.He played the bamboo flute while you play the fiddle (bamboo stump).He also the favourite of the prince.Well they both also a good friend.

Kim Taehyung :  The crown prince

- Wondering the man in the first scene.Well here he is,the hero who saved you from the shark loaner.Offering you to get inside the catle and work as musician.When he brought you here,he introduce you to Jimin.

- Like the above,he was born to be an archer.However he needed a bit more practice on sword skill.Jin told you the story when Taehyung first used the sword.He freaked out and nearly cut himself.You still can see how he struggle although now he improve a lot according to Seokjinssi.

- The ‘fool’ prince who would prank on others.The one who got that the most probably was a train doctor.He was around your age named Jungkook.From what Jimin told you,he was a shy boy.However got really close with Taehyung since he was train to be personal doctor.The poor boy ended up get tease.

Jeon Jungkook : The prince’s personal doctor (still training)

- A shy boy who entered here before you around 3 months ago.He didn’t speak much with you.What actually made you really got to know him was when you were sick.Taehyung ordered him to check on you and that was the beginning.

- He was really helpful with a lot of things.Wondering why he didn’t become a soldier or duke instead of doctor.He was wise and well built figure.He then claimed that his house was a doctor house.Everyone in his family worked for the royal as doctor since his grand grand parents.He then ended up in this position.

- The boy was train to be doctor.However you can’t ignore the fact that he was like the second equerry for Taehyung.Namjoon notice the talent in him so he insist to train Jungkook.Namjoon once said that Jungkook basically can be the equerry like him or even the assasin.

Well how was it guys? This idea I should thanks pinterest.I was scrowling down. Then there was a suggestion photos and ideas for me.I clicked in and saw all of them.(All picture of the boys belong to original owner.I only arrange them a bit.)So I decide to make this.Hope you enjoy this one.Also thanks for the support on Mafia AU,the last one that I post.Although it not much but still make me surprise. Didn’t think you guys will like it that much.See you next time and don’t forget to read the others.

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 06: Convergence

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 4,065

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi, @vivpurple7, @happilystrongthroughthedark, @sw33tnight, @nikkitane, @mini-coop25, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland​

AN: Sorry this took me so long. Life decided it wanted to kick me in the face repeatedly. But I did warn everyone this was going to take a little time with the updates. Please be patient with me. I promise you that it will be worth the wait. If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Things do not happen. Things are made to happen.” - John F. Kennedy

Yoon greeted his parents with the Crown Princess at his side. They both bowed deeply as they heard the King and Queen laugh in delight. The Royal Consorts also received bows from the Crown Prince and Princess. Finally, they turned and were given bows from the princesses and princes of the Royal Court. The officials and guards, as well as the rest of the palace staff, were present for the opening ceremony to celebrate Crown Prince Yoon’s first international liaison. 

When they were finally dismissed, Yoon took his seat next to the Crown Princess, waiting for food and wine to be served. Various voices of praise and congratulations were given to Yoon, to which he simply nodded his head politely and smiled while returning his own charming forms of gratitude. He allowed the Crown Princess to serve him a cup of wine and he, in turn, also served her. Merriment and good cheer surrounded the palace.

It made Yoon sick to his stomach.

The conversation he had with his Father-In-Law still didn’t sit well with him. At his own behest, he politely reminded Minister Jang that he should keep his small-minded ambitions to himself. He didn’t need to drag the Crown Princess into his mess. Regardless of his own personal feelings, Yoon held a deep amount of respect for his Princess. Jang Chae-Ok had no ambitions or selfish desires for wanting to be Crown Princess. She was simply a childhood friend to Yoon who always remained faithfully at his side. 

The Crown Princess was not blind to his relationship with Kalina. But she also did not question it. It was from this show of her character alone that Yoon promised he would not take a Royal Consort when he became King. He owed her that much for her understanding.

“I wish that I could accompany you, Your Highness.” The Crown Princess’s voice was sad, matching her expression. 

He reached out to grasp her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It will be a long journey. It is no place for a Crown Princess.” Yoon smiled. “I will be back before you realize I’m gone.”

She sighed. “I will miss you greatly.” She placed her hand over his. “Do be careful.”

“I will, Crown Princess.”

A loud gong resounded, drawing everyone’s attention. All conversation hushed as the head of the Artisan school approached. He bowed deeply while the others waited with anticipation for his announcement. 

“Members of the Royal Court! We are here to celebrate the Crown Prince’s upcoming journey. We wish him great fortune but before he traverses out in the world, we want to be able to ease his worries and give him memories to hold on to as he travels to Ming. Things that he will be able to keep close to his heart and treasure if he should ever become homesick.” 

Yoon smiled, despite his own internal dark thoughts. He loved his country. He loved his people. The skills they mastered in order to have these small moments to showcase their talents were clearly battles within their own houses. Some performers and artists had better skills than others, hence why they were allowed to appear at the forefront. Others were still in training to be able to climb up in the ranks along the way. 

He secretly admired the drive that pushed these individuals along. Everyone had dreams, goals, and ambitions. People’s reasons for doing anything were threads that bonded everyone together to achieve common goals. No matter how small or big, they were to be appreciated. Even if one could not voice these appreciations aloud. 

The Chief Artisan gave a wide gesture, spinning on his heels as the performers made their way into the grand courtyard. “We hope that our performers, both within the palace walls, and those who have managed to make their ways from the streets, will be able to soothe your soul.”

Everyone applauded as Senior Artisan stepped away, allowing for the in house performers to showcase everything they’ve practiced for days. Curiously, Yoon hummed to himself at the mention of street performers entering the palace. If they were skilled enough to gain the court’s attention, there was a good chance they would be given slots to enter the performance schools within the palace halls. It would be a golden opportunity to change their livelihoods for the better.

He was keen to see just what they were made of.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

Jimin clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, silencing Taehyung’s whining. “Hyung-nim is filling in for Namjoon Hyung-nim.” His eyes narrowed. “Surely you don’t expect him to wear the dress, do you?”

Taehyung pouted. “No, but still!”

“Besides,” Hoseok cut in, patting Taehyung’s shoulders roughly, “we all memorized multiple parts in case something happens. We only had time for Hyung-nim to learn one. Stop being difficult.”

Yoongi smirked, shaking his head while readjusting the waistband to his costume. The large rosary that hung from his neck was heavy and the boots were a little bit cumbersome, but bearable. He would be able to switch his shoes out when it came time for the tightrope routine. Jungkook and Seokjin fawned over him, making sure he looked as proper as he could in performance gear. 

Namjoon appeared, holding out a red and black demon mask to him. “I gave it some new paint earlier so it should be dry now.”

Taking the mask from him, Yoongi cradled it in his hands. “Thank you, Namjoon-ah.” He scratched at the cloth headband. “What will you be doing during the performance?”

“I’ll be narrating and helping the musicians out. Percussion, mostly.” 

“I see.” Yoongi eyed the mask, taking note of the large white fangs protruding from the mouth carved into the wood. 

Because of the depth of the role, he wouldn’t be able to take his mask off during the entire performance. Beneficial for him, but he hated that Namjoon wouldn’t be getting any credit. Yoongi knew how hard they all must have been preparing for this particular performance. A small measure of guilt wormed its way into his heart, but Namjoon’s laugh brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Now I feel even more terrible, Hyung-nim.” Yoongi saw the concerned look on Namjoon’s face, even though he was smiling. “Seriously, you’re doing me a favor. I feel bad enough. If you keep looking like that, I’ll think I’m completely worthless.”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon-ah.” Clearing his throat, he nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

“Thank the heavens you’re wearing a mask.” Taehyung pushed his headband up a little more. “Otherwise the audience is going to think you’re guilty of some crime.”

“It’s just nerves.” Jimin flashed Yoongi a reassuring smile. “Right, Hyung-nim?”

All he could do was give a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Hayan Geutop Troupe?” An unfamiliar voice pulled all of their attention. They saw someone dressed in official robes motioning toward them. “You’re up next.”

No one could hide their excitement. This was the first time any of them would be entering the palace. Each of them were given temporary passes to gain access. Once inside, they all made sure they were looking their best. The sound of joyful laughter and music rumbled through the courtyard, causing Yoongi’s heartbeat to elevate with excitement.

“Hyung-nim!” Jungkook gently nudged Yoongi’s back. “Your mask! Don’t forget to put it on!”

“Oh. Right.” Yoongi slid the large Demon mask over his head, making sure the cloth headwrap covered every part of his neck from view except the front. 

The sound of loud drums rang out through the courtyard. It was a little bit difficult to breathe with the mask on, but not impossible. If anything, Yoongi was more concerned with the mask falling off by accident. But Hoseok assured him that the bands were secured and redesigned to fit his head perfectly. It wouldn’t come off unless he pulled it off himself.

Admittedly, his nerves were a little frayed. Being around so many people at once, as well as so much noise, was teetering him toward sensory overload. But he continued to remind himself that he had a job to do. He just needed to get through the performance and then he could continue exploring the Crown City to his heart’s content. They were set to ride back out to the mountains at first light.

He hoped the shops would still be open before the lanterns were lit.

The large drum was hit, signaling for everyone to settle down. Yoongi took another breath, waiting for their group to be announced in front of the Royal Court. His vision was limited through the small holes in his mask - the rest of the world shadowed on either side of him. He could hear his own breath in his ears as he tried to peer out in front of him. But he wasn’t sure what he was even looking for. There was a strange pull at his heart; a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. 

Like someone was calling to him.

No. Like multiple people were calling to him.

“Members of the Royal Court! I present to you a troupe of young performers who hail from the outskirts of the Crown City!” The Chief Artisan looked in their direction as some of the students in the palace artisan school helped to set up their stage. “The White Tower Troupe!”

There was a round of polite applause from all the members of the royal court. The other troupe members were helping to set up the first scene for their skit. Yoongi waited patiently, even though he offered to help. Taehyung and Hoseok insisted that he stand back and focus on the performance. It wouldn’t take them long to get the set pieces ready. Once everything was put together, Namjoon walked gently forward and bowed deeply to the Royal family seated at the large banquet table.

“Please forgive our lack of eloquence, Your Majesties, as we attempt to regale you with a story. It is one I am sure you are all familiar with, but allow us to perform it for you just the same.” He flicked out the large fan in his hand, a picture of a blue sky and a green field painted on it. “We humbly present to you...the Tale of Green Pearl and the Demon!”

Yoon felt Chae-Ok grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He cast a sidelong glance in her direction, noting the soft pink flush that tinted her cheeks. He knew it wasn’t from the wine but more from her excitement. He smiled as she met his gaze.

“Oh, I love this story!” She looked back out toward the courtyard. “I’m interested to see how they will tell it.”

“As am I.”

The bass drum resounded through the large space just as the troupe finished setting up for the first scene. The narrator who spoke walked off to the sidelines and took a seat on a plush cushion that was provided for him. Silence draped over everyone present as the actors moved to their positions. 

“Many years ago, there was a humble man who lived a humble life. He had a humble trade and a humble wife. The wife bore him two children. A son named White Fang and a daughter named Green Pearl.”

Yoon watched as the narrator spoke about each character. One by one, they all appeared - their faces concealed with wooden masks painted in eloquent designs. Lingering off to the side was an actor clothed in black, red and gold garbs - a demon mask covering his face. Yoon felt his heart beating a little faster as he gazed at the person, unsure of why this strange sensation was lurching in his chest. 

The narrator slapped his stick against the small drum cradled in his lap. “As the seasons changed and the children grew older, the father became ill. The wife sent for what physicians they could afford and the old apothecary said that there was nothing he could do. The wife was distraught, unsure of what would become of her or her children should her husband leave this world for his journey to the afterlife.”

“Seobang-nim! You cannot leave us like this!” The wife sobbed beside the husband, cradling his hand between her palms. “What are we to do without you? How are we supposed to live?!”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” said White Fang as he placed his hand over his mother’s, “I will find a way to cure Father. I will travel across foreign lands until I can find the medicine that will save Father’s life!”

Again, the narrator struck the drum. “White Fang left to search for a cure for his ailing father, leaving his mother and sister behind.”

Yoon watched the person portraying Green Pearl moving toward the backdrop meant to pose as a wide open field. A lone tree stood off in the distance where she clasped her hands together and prayed. 

“Gods of Heaven, I beseech you! Please help my father. Please find a way to help him get better!” cried Green Pearl as she lowered her head, all but sobbing into her hands.

Heavy drums beat softly, signaling an ominous transition. Yoon watched as the actor portraying the demon slowly moved forward, until he was mere feet from the Royal Banquet table. The Demon whipped his head around to face the Royal family, causing everyone to lean back and gasp. 

All except Yoon.

Maybe it was the optical illusion of the mask, but he swore that the demon was looking directly at him. His heartbeat escalated, a soft thunder against his chest, and he waited for the demon to speak. There was a line here. Yoon remembered it. A line where the demon spoke to the audience of his wicked scheme.

But the demon said nothing. All he did was stare. Had the actor forgotten his lines?

“A demon heard Green Pearl’s cries, intrigued by her earnest wailings.”

The narrator cut through the silence. This seemed to wake the demon up, causing him to swiftly shuffle back a few steps as he threw his arm out in a dramatic flourish. 

“The sweet sound of sorrow nourishes my heart,” the Demon exclaimed, curling his shoulders forward. He pressed a hand against his face, fingers gliding over the white fangs on the mask. “It is the sound of easy prey. How I have longed to devour such a miserable soul!”

He heard the Crown Princess gasp as the Demon ran forward, leaping into the air and landing on the tightrope with amazing ease. Yoon quirked a brow, internally admiring the actor’s swiftness and balancing abilities. The Demon leaned forward, slinging his legs out until he was hanging upside down from the rope. 

Green Pearl took a sharp intake of breath, clutching at the front of her dress. “W-Who goes there?”

“A humble and curious Demon. But nevermind me, Sweet Child.” The Demon spoke in a cooing and sweet voice. “What seems to be ailing you? What causes you to mourn so?”

“My father is ill and there is no way to save him. My brother has left to travel in hopes of finding medicine to cure him.” Green Pearl turned away from the Demon, looking off in the distance. “I mourn for my family and what is to become of them should my father pass.”

The Demon laughed, swinging his body so that he was now sitting upright on the tightrope. He rested a hand on his knee and leaned forward, drawing Green Pearl’s attention once more. “This is a simple problem with a simple solution.”

“It is anything but simple!”

“Oh, but it is!” The Demon hopped onto the rope, bouncing up and down in a playful manner. “Because I know how to save your ailing father!”

Green Pearl stepped toward the tree, her hand reaching up toward the Demon but she was far out of his reach. “What do you know? Please, tell me how to save my father!”

The Demon bounced on the rope a few more times before dismounting, landing just a few feet away from her. He placed his hands behind his back and paced, not really bothering to stray too far from her but not coming too close. “There is a flower that grows in the western mountains. It is said that creating a potion from this flower can cure any illness.” He spun on his heels just as Green Pearl tried to approach him, causing her to halt in her steps. “But it is an arduous journey. Many have died trying to claim this flower.”

“Can you guide me to this mountain?” 

The Demon circled her, his steps slow and measured. “What will you give me if I decide to lend you my aid?”

“Whatever you wish to claim from me, Sir!” Green Pearl fell to her knees. “No boon is too great when it comes to saving the life of my father!”

The Demon knelt down before Green Pearl, lifting her face to meet his. “You will become my bride. That is the price you must pay if you wish to obtain my help.”

“If marrying a demon is the trade we are making, then I would marry you a thousand times.” 

The Demon pulled Green Pearl up onto her feet, a hearty laugh bursting from his chest. “Then come! Let us be off! The day grows shorter and the journey will be that much harder for you when the night comes.”

A gong and more heavy drums rang out as the Demon and Green Pearl exited the stage. Troupe members hurried to change the set backdrop to suit the next scene transition. 

“So Green Pearl and the Demon hurried toward the Western Mountains. The journey was, indeed, arduous. Many perils crossed their paths, but the Demon protected Green Pearl every step of the way. The harshest trek, however, was the path leading up toward the mountains. Wild animals impeded their path. Even the cold mountain winds attempted to blow the two off the krags so they would plummet to their deaths.”

With each scene change, a linen drape with a painted landscape was swapped. The serene music fit the pacing of each scene and the narrator’s strong voice pushed the actors to continue through the skit. Yoon knew this tale very well. Yet watching it unfold in this manner made the story seem brand new. He was particularly drawn to the Demon, unable to shake the tremors in his heart as the masked performer’s moves seemed fluid and natural.

“Finally, Green Pearl and the Demon reached the top of the mountain peaks. There was the mythical flower the Demon mentioned. It was a rich purple in pigment, the stem a soft green and nestled among a cluster of clovers. In the snow and cold temperature, there was no way that any vegetation should have flourished, let alone this single flower.”

Green Pearl reached for the flower, preparing to dig it up from the earth. Suddenly, she was stopped by the Demon’s harsh pull at her wrist. “W-What are you doing?!”

“Do not forget your promise to me, dear Child.” He pulled her flush against him. “You are to be my bride the moment your father is well. And not a minute later.”

“I haven’t forgotten our deal, Demon!” Green Pearl pushed away from him. “We must hurry back quickly!”

A soft bell tinkling sound issued from a row of wind chimes. The Demon laughed, grasping onto Green Pearl and jumping up toward the tightrope. Everyone watching sucked in their breaths as a stream of dark blue fabric followed after them. The Demon dragged Green Pearl behind him as the actors portrayed him using his powers to help them travel quickly. The two actors almost appeared to float across the thick line of rope.

“The Demon used his powers to transport Green Pearl and himself down the mountain. When they reached the foot of the mountain, they instantly moved through the fields. Within minutes, they were back in Green Pearl’s humble village. He safely brought her home and Green Pearl wasted no time preparing the flower into a medicinal tonic for her father.”

Green Pearl appeared next to her mother, holding out a wooden bowl. “This tonic will help Father. Please, we must hurry!”

The Wife started to feed the potion to the ailing Husband. In minutes, he started to rise up from his bed. He held his wife’s hands and she threw herself into his arms. 

“Husband! You are well!” she cried as her husband held her close. 

He laughed, stroking her back. “Yes, I am well, Pu-in. But tell me, what has helped me come back from the gates of the Underworld?”

“I traveled far to retrieve a flower that is said to cure any illness.” Green Pearl hugged her father’s neck.

“A flower?” He tilted his head to the side. “How did you come to learn of this flower?”

Green Pearl lowered her head. “A Demon told me. He guided me to the Western Mountains and I plucked the flower from the highest peak.”

Both the husband and wife looked at each other, clutching at their chests. The father reached out for his daughter’s hands. “You foolish girl! How could you make an agreement with a demon?!”

“Don’t you know that a deal with a demon only breeds disaster?!” The mother shook Green Pearl’s shoulders. “You have sold your soul to the Underworld!”

Green Pearl pulled herself away from her family. “I’m sorry!” She ran out of the house where the Demon was waiting for her. “We must hurry!”

The Demon grabbed her hand in his. “Let us leave this place!”

“Stop right there, you foul trickster!” The Father appeared, brandishing a wheat sickle. “Release my daughter, this instant!”

The Demon laughed. “The deal has been made, Human! You cannot break the contract!” 

The sound of a gong exploded over the courtyard, causing the Demon to gasp. When he looked down, there was a sword plunged through his stomach. As he turned, the assailant stepped forward to push the blade through his gut even further. The Demon reached out with a bloodied hand toward the one who attacked him. 

“B-Brother!”

White Fang ripped the sword from the Demon’s body, causing the Demon to fall to his knees. His head hung low and Green Pearl was instantly at the Demon’s side. He finally collapsed to the ground and Green Pearl clung to his shivering form. 

“What have you done?!” she screamed as the Demon continued to tremble in her arms. “Why did you strike him?!”

“It was a Demon, Green Pearl!” White Fang dropped the sword from his hand and the satchel from his back. “They only breed misfortune!”

“Y-You fool,” sputtered the Demon, “I would have given her a good life.” A trembling arm lifted as he pointed at White Fang. “Because of your actions, you have now condemned your sister to death.”

“What?!” White Fang dropped to his knees. The husband and wife hurried forward. “What lies do you speak, Demon?”

The Demon turned to look up at Green Pearl. “I will not be able to give you a life you deserve.” He touched the side of her face. “But I will be able to stay with you in the Afterlife. Always.”

“I am sorry for the cruel nature of man! Forgive me!” Green Pearl sobbed, burying her face in the Demon’s shoulder. “I will see you on the other side.”

And then the Demon’s hand fell limply to the ground. Seconds later, Green Pearl collapsed next to him.

Silence filled the courtyard. No one spoke. Hardly anyone took a moment to breathe, Yoon included. 

It was broken the minute that the King began to clap. The Queen soon followed until everyone at the Royal Banquet table rose from their seats and applauded. Yoon was still stunned, but he, too, clapped. The actors remained where they were - unmoving. However, the narrator stepped forward and bowed deeply to them. The tragic scene remained, but the story’s message still lingered in the air. 

Even a Demon was deserving of love and a person could see beyond the surface to one’s true heart.

But when promises were broken, a terrible fate would await. 

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 07: Oblivion

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05 06

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,414

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi, @vivpurple7, @happilystrongthroughthedark, @sw33tnight, @nikkitane, @mini-coop25, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland​ @hobigif-ficrecs​​

AN: Hmmm...the plot thickens... Yeah, I have nothing else haha. Enjoy? Love me? All of the above? 

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” - Oscar Wilde

“Cheers!”

Everyone knocked their wooden bowls together, causing some of the rice wine to spill from the brim. Hearty laughter and the overall bustle of the market served as the ambient backdrop to celebration. Yoongi waited for the other troupe members to drink before pressing his own lips against his bowl. The wine was sweet and went down smoothe, filling his chest and stomach with a warm feeling. 

Bowls of food were passed around and chatter quickly filled the absence of words in the middle of slurping down alcohol. A small measure of pride filled Yoongi’s heart as he watched his friends wrap their arms around each other, singing songs as they continued to fill their empty bowls. It was the first time he’d felt a sense of true accomplishment in his life. In terms of work, he contributed little. But the success was shared by all; the true feeling permeating throughout the group. 

When morning came, he hoped this feeling would remain with him.

But even amid all the celebration, Yoongi couldn’t shake the confusion that nestled itself deep within his heart. He hadn’t made any mistakes, but he almost did. That very moment when he faced the Royal Banquet table. The image shocked him to his core and he could only stand there frozen. How could he not?

Who would be able to think properly after seeing their own face staring back at them?

Yoongi wasn’t mistaken. Except for the lack of a scar on his face, the Crown Prince looked identical to him! But how was that possible? His father never mentioned that he had a brother. He assumed that he was the only child of his mother after she passed away. He’d heard tales of doppelgangers existing in the world, but those were just myths. None of it was real.

Unless there was something his father failed to mention to him, he had no other choice but to believe in said myths. Yet an even more disturbing question plagued the back of Yoongi’s mind. One he didn’t want to give voice to. But it was the only query that made sense.

After all, it was impossible for a doppelganger to be attached to the Royal Family.

He narrowed his eyes as he stared down into the empty bowl in his hand. ...does that make me the imposter?

He felt his body tip over slightly as Jungkook all but threw himself against Yoongi. He blinked, watching as his friend grabbed the wine jug to pour him another drink. “Hyung-nim, let me pour you a drink in your honor!”

Yoongi scoffed as his bowl was taken from him. Jungkook nearly reeked of wine. It was a miracle he could hold the wine jug and bowl in his hands as steady as he was. “The honor isn’t mine alone, you know?”

“Nonsense!” Hoseok sputtered a laugh, waving a cooked chicken leg in his hand. “We would’ve been in real trouble if you hadn’t stepped in for us when you did, Hyung-nim!”

Jimin drained his bowl of wine as the tavern owner reappeared with another jug of wine. “He’s right. The performance went as well as it did because you practiced so hard.”

A slight warmth touched Yoongi’s cheeks and he scratched at the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. He didn’t think what he did was all that great. He just rehearsed the lines given to him and practiced the choreography that Hoseok taught him. All the credit belonged to the troupe. He was just happy to be able to fulfil his end of the skit to the best of his ability. 

“Though I must admit…” Taehyung lifted his wine bowl up to his face. “...something’s been bothering me.”

Everyone turned to look at Taehyung. He took a sip of wine, his eyes zeroing in on Yoongi’s face. The straw hat Jimin gave him was draped along his back, the string beads pressing against his throat. Yoongi shifted his gaze between each of his friends. Clearly there was something weighing on their minds. Only a blind man wouldn’t have been curious. 

Namjoon spoke first. 

“Hyung-nim?” He scratched at the hair beneath his headband. “Did you see it too?”

Yoongi remained silent. There were a lot of things he’d seen. That didn’t mean they all saw the same thing. He refused to speak on the matter that was currently plaguing his mind.

Suddenly, Seokjin was in his line of sight - practically touching nose to nose with him. Yoongi leaned back as far as he could, feeling uncomfortable at how abrupt his friend’s actions were. But instead of giving him space, Seokjin leaned closer - clasping his cheeks between his palms. Blinking wildly, Yoongi sputtered and tried to break free of Seokjin’s hold.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?”

“You both have the same face.” His friend’s eyes narrowed. “Except for the lack of a scar, your faces are exactly the same.”

It was like ice cold water from a well was dropped on top of him. Yoongi’s lips parted and, again, he tried to break away from Seokjin. Feeling his friend’s fingers digging into his cheeks, he knew there was no chance of escape. Instead, he lifted his gaze to the others and saw they were all thinking the same thing. Peering at him curiously, Yoongi felt a sense of dismay circulating inside of his chest. He was hoping that he was only imagining things. He prayed that it was just a trick of the light, or the last dregs of wine in his system from their pre-performance celebrations.

After what felt like a small lifetime, Seokjin let Yoongi go and the table was unusually quiet. Normally this was the time for Jungkook to chime in with some stupid joke. Or he’d perform some silly act to get everyone to laugh. But as he stared into his friends’ eyes, Yoongi realized just how heavy the atmosphere was.

Pressing his fingers into his forehead, he sighed. “I...I know.” It was the only answer Yoongi could give. 

Taehyung reached across the table to grasp his wrist. “Hey, we know you might be feeling a bit strange.” He chuckled. “It’s a little weird for us and it’s not even our problem.”

Hoseok hummed to himself, folding his arms across his chest. “I would say it’s a wonder that you went this long without realizing it. But considering where you live and whose face you share, I’m not all that surprised.”

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked the question before Yoongi could. 

Everyone peered at Hoseok, waiting for his reply. Had he managed to put one of the pieces of the puzzle down?

“Think about it.” He clasped his hand against the side of his neck. “Hyung-nim spent most of his life in the mountains. Away from the Crown City.” They all nodded. “And commoners don’t really get a chance to see the Royal family’s faces all that often. Even if they did, they wouldn’t know it.”

“Hoseok’s right,” chimed Namjoon, his brows furrowing, “and Yoongi Hyung-nim was just as surprised as the rest of us were.” He met Yoongi’s eyes. “Your father never mentioned anything to you? Not once?”

Yoongi’s immediate urge was to scoff, but even that action was lodged in his throat. He shook his head. “No. Nothing.”

He recalled Kali’s words and everything was horrifyingly clear. And now he understood why his father kept him from venturing out to the Crown City. Feeling a cold sweat form on his brow, Yoongi reached for the wine jug and began pouring more into his bowl. In that moment, he felt like the only thing he could do to chase this knowledge from his mind was to drown it completely in alcohol. Trembling hands lifted the bowl to his face and he swallowed the wine in three gulps. 

Jimin grasped for his hands, pulling the bowl and jug away from him. “Slow down, Hyung-nim!” He frowned. “You’ll make yourself sick!”

“Leave me alone! Let me get drunk, would you?!” Yoongi slammed his fists down on the table, forcing all the clayware to bounce up. Wooden spoons and chopsticks clattered to the ground, causing a few of the patrons to hush their conversations to determine where the ruckus was coming from. “I don’t know what the hell is going on! If I did, don’t you think I’d tell you guys?” He buried his face into his hands, feeling his fringe tickling the backs of his knuckles. “I don’t know how I’d even begin asking my father about this.”

Getting caned over traveling to the Crown City was the least of his concerns. 

“Then why don’t we get the answers ourselves?”

All eyes were on Taehyung as he flashed his boxy smile at them. Yoongi sputtered a laugh and he wasn’t sure if he was drunk or not. There was no way he heard him right.

“Come again?” Hoseok settled his hands onto his hips. “You want to do what?”

Scoffing, Taehyung canted his head slightly. “We’re actors, guys. Getting into the palace is a simple thing.”

“Simple in what way, Taehyung-ah?” Jimin gave an erratic gesture. “Don’t you know how heavy security is at the palace?”

“We don’t even have our passes anymore.” Namjoon tossed a bit of mackerel into his mouth. “We can’t just come and go as we please.”

The sly look that painted Taehyung’s features gave everyone pause. He reached into his tunic, fished around, and pulled out the item within. Dangling from a silk cord was a rectangular block carved from jade. Etched and inked on one side were characters in a language Yoongi knew most at the table couldn’t read. But he could. He recognized it for what it was. Yoongi nearly jumped from his seat, the table stopping him as his knees crashed into it. Everyone slapped their hands on the surface to keep it from toppling over.

“Have you gone insane, Taehyung-ah?!” Yoongi hissed as he rubbed his knees. “Where did you even get that?!”

Taehyung twirled the jade pass on his index finger, catching the block in his palm as he leaned forward. “Would you believe me if I told you I found it?”

“Yeah, right.” Seokjin smirked. “And I’m King Jumong of Goguryeo's reincarnated spirit.”

“Well, I did,” Taehyung said, ignoring Seokjin’s sarcasm, “and since I know we have a replica of a similar pass in our props, it won’t be difficult to get back into the palace.” He smirked. “But we’ll only have one chance to do this. Whatever information we can get, we have to do it all tonight.”

Yoongi’s chest hurt with how hard his heart was thundering against it. This was crazy. If any of them got caught, they’d be thrown in prison. Or worse: executed. But it would be a lie if he didn’t yearn for answers to the hundreds of thousands of questions circulating inside of his head. Why did the Crown Prince look exactly like him? Had his father known the reason behind it? And if so, who was the Crown Prince to him? Was Yoongi living the life he was always meant to, or was the Crown Prince?

Where, exactly, was Yoongi supposed to be?

“I’m going.”

Namjoon shook his head roughly. “No. That’s out of the question, Hyung-nim.”

He cut his eyes at him. “Why not?”

Hoseok hung his head. “Come on, Hyung-nim. Isn’t it obvious?” He gave a small smile. “Your face kinda sticks out a bit, don’t you think?”

Yoongi was aggravated. He didn’t want to be stuck depending on his friends to find the answers for him. They were going to willingly throw themselves into the flames just to sate his curiosities? He couldn’t very well ask them to do that. Not for him.

Jimn must have read his expression because he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright, Hyung-nim. We’re happy to do it.” He smiled, closing his eyes as he laughed. “We’re friends, right?”

Biting down on his lower lip, Yoongi felt his shoulders sag a bit. “Of course we are, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with putting you all in danger.” 

“Look, I know we’re all a little drunk, but let’s go ahead and map this out.” Namjoon reached into his satchel and pulled out a bit of paper and a small ink brush. He spread the paper out across the table so everyone could look at it. “Nobody ask me how I got my hands on this. I’m taking it to my grave.” 

“How much did this even cost you?” Hoseok looked down at the map and then back up at Namjoon. Yoongi was just as curious. 

Namjoon dipped the brush into a small ink block. “You don’t want to know. Every time I think about it, my eyes get watery.”

“Leave it to you to have this, Hyung-nim.” Jungkook’s expression was mischievous. “Don’t tell me you were planning on doing something criminal, hm?”

“Just having it is a crime!” Seokjin laughed as he covered his eyes. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Taehyung leaned forward, the excitement clear in his eyes. “So who’s going with me?”

“I am.” Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Mostly because I don’t trust you to stay out of trouble.”

He puffed one side of his cheek out and Yoongi smiled. “That’s harsh, even for you.”

Closing his eyes, Jimin turned his face away in defiance. “And because it was your idea to indulge in this madness, you’re wearing the dress.”

Taehyung balked, his jaw nearly hitting the table. “W-What?! That’s nonsense!” He pointed at Jimin. “I’ve already worn a dress once today! I’m not doing it again.” He put on a devilish smile. “Besides, you look more girly than I do. You should wear the dress!”

Jimin grabbed him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Yoongi reached out to stop him, but Namjoon prevented him from doing so. When he looked back at him, he smiled and shook his head while Taehyung continued to whine and gripe about the pain he was in. Once Taehyung gave in to Jimin’s “methods of persuasion”, everyone quickly crowded around the map. The hardest thing wasn’t getting into the palace. That would be easy.

Yoongi was more worried about how they were going to manage to get out. And do so in one piece.

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 8: Another Today

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05 06 07

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3.271

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi, @vivpurple7, @happilystrongthroughthedark, @sw33tnight, @nikkitane, @mini-coop25, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland​ @hobigif-ficrecs​​

AN: I really don’t know what else to say in these notes anymore lol. So just enjoy the ride!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“On today’s long road, even if I fall, I will walk again.” - Jung Jaeil

Few words were spoken between the Crown Princess and himself. Yoon didn’t mind. He preferred the quiet. It gave him time to mull over thoughts that circulated inside of his head. The expedition to Ming would not be a short one. He anticipated that he would be gone for a month. Maybe longer, depending on how things panned out as he fulfilled his duties as Joseon’s liaison. He wasn’t expecting anything problematic, but he wasn’t planning for everything to go smoothly either. Anyone could make an attempt on his life at any time. Worse, he could wind up as a hostage in Ming in order to twist his father’s arm to obtain whatever they wished and on their terms.

Yoon certainly wasn’t about to let that transpire. Not while he was still breathing.

“I’m happy you enjoyed the banquet, Cheo-ha.” The Crown Princess’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to look at her, seeing the gentle smile on her face. 

He reached out to take her hand in his and he watched a soft flush crown her cheeks. “I think it’s more important that you enjoyed yourself, Ping-goon.”

She nodded, making sure to match his pace as they walked through the palace. Their attendants followed closely, but were far enough away to give them some semblance of privacy. They continued to walk in companionable silence until they reached a bridge. Pausing for a moment, they peered over the edge to view the lake as it showcased the moon’s pale reflection. 

Thoughts of Kalina lingered in the back of Yoon’s mind. He wanted to be able to see her before he made his long journey. There was a greedy and gluttonous part of him that yearned to be able to feel her soft skin beneath his palms once more. But he knew what kind of person the sorceress was. She’d indulged him once and wished him a safe journey. That would be all she would spare; even for him. 

He hated that he couldn’t tether her to his person at all times.

“Forgive me for asking...” Chae-Ok lifted her face as he looked at her. “...will Your Highness stay with me in Magnolia Pavilion tonight?”

There was an unmistakable look of pining etched on her features. Yoon’s brows furrowed and he felt the Crown Princess’s hand gripping his own just a little harder. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he waited for her to continue.

She averted her gaze. “Please allow me to serve you.”

Again, silence. Yoon heard his heart slightly thumping in his ears. It was rare for Chae-Ok to be so forward. But there was also the duty that she had as a Crown Princess. She had to produce an heir in order to bring security to the royal household. As many times as they tried, they were unsuccessful. The royal physicians said she was healthy so there was no issue with her being able to bear children. The problem was most likely due to stress and timing. 

Yoon’s own heart was an issue as well. It wasn’t that his wife lacked the ability to satisfy him. Basic male urges were something that could easily be sated. It wasn’t like with women who, more often than not, needed to have an emotional connection with the person they shared a bed with. But even Yoon secretly held himself back when he laid with his wife. 

Was it because he wasn’t ready to be a father yet? Or to have the responsibilities that came with being a parent? He still felt so out of touch with the world and there was much that he needed to learn. He felt so inferior to his father and while the ministers in the court respected Yoon, he knew it was simply because of his title. That type of loyalty had a weak foundation and would crumble under his feet if he wasn’t careful.

Smiling, he reached out to pull Chae-Ok into his arms. She gasped, pressing her palms against his chest. Yoon rested his cheek along the side of her temple, breathing in the fragrant scent of rose petals. 

“Of course, Ping-goon,” he whispered, feeling her fingers curling into the front of his robes. Yoon chuckled when he thought he heard her smothering a sob. Patting her back, he pulled her even closer to him. “Forgive me, Crown Princess. I haven’t been very attentive to you, have I?”

She rapidly shook her head back and forth and he chuckled. “That’s not true, Crown Prince! I know how busy you have been with your studies and duties within the palace. What right do I have to complain?”

Pulling back, he cupped her cheeks in his palms and lifted her face up so he could see the pink tinting her cheeks. When two tears leaked from her eyes, Yoon used his thumbs to sweep them away. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, sighing softly against her skin.

“You have every right to complain. And you should.” He clasped the back of her neck, tilting her face upward again. “Tell me your worries and share your burdens with me.”

Yoon felt her trembling beneath his hands. “C-Cheo-ha…”

He smiled again, his shoulders relaxing a measure. “And when I return, you can continue to do so.”

Chae-Ok smiled, her lower lip quivering slightly as she nodded. They grasped hands once more, their destination within the palace set. While he knew that he could not give her his entire heart, he wanted to be fair. Yoon wouldn’t deny her what little of himself he could give. 

He owed her that much at least.

Jimin pressed his body against the wall, his spine tense as his muscles seemed to coil - ready to spring into action should the need arise. Internally, he was hating every second of this. If one thing went wrong, they were going to be thrown into the palace jail immediately. And that was if they were lucky. If fortune decided not to favor the brave this evening, they would be tortured and killed before the rooster crowed.

But as much as he hated to admit it, Taehyung’s little ruse seemed to have worked. 

Much to his chagrin, Taehyung opted to dress as one of the palace maidservants. Jimin donned the robes and role of a palace eunuch. As long as they didn’t draw too much attention to themselves, they would be able to move in and out of the palace without much constraint. The number of servants within the palace walls was almost too much for any person to truly fathom. Hence why passes and records were kept. But at night, there were fewer servants wandering since most hated the night watch schedule.

That didn’t make Jimin’s anxieties any less, however.

The sudden sound of hurried footsteps brought Jimin to full alert. His eyes narrowed when he saw Taehyung running with his skirts hiked up all the way to his waist. They both huddled down behind the bushes where they wouldn’t be seen. 

“I’m glad you were smart enough not to run around with a lamp.” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes as he bunched up the skirts around his thighs so he could squat more comfortably. “I’m not an idiot, Hyung-nim.” He smirked, then pointed at the sky. “Besides, the moon is really bright tonight. I don’t need one. The gods are blessing our little excursion.”

“Or cursing it.” Jimin frowned as he pulled the map Namjoon gave him out from the confines of his robes. “Were you able to find out anything?”

“No, not too much.” He leaned forward a bit. “Though there’s a rumor going around that the king’s special guest is here.”

“Special guest?” Jimin lofted a brow. “What kind of special guest?”

Taehyung folded his arms across his chest. “Apparently he’s an old friend of the king.” He shifted his gaze down at the map, but Jimin knew he wasn’t actually looking at it. “I also heard that he was His Majesty’s former bodyguard.”

“How far up in rank was he?”

“He wasn’t just a bodyguard.” Taehyung met Jimin’s gaze. “He was the bodyguard. Like, his former Commander.”

Jimin hummed to himself as he rested his elbows on his knees. “Any reason why he would be here?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No. But I heard from some of the servants that he comes to visit every few years. He doesn’t stay for very long, but their chats are usually pretty private.” He frowned. “The king even dismisses most of his staff when he comes by. That’s pretty suspicious, don’t you agree?”

Nodding, Jimin quickly glanced over the map to gauge their current surroundings. He pointed to one spot. “Well, we’re not too far from the King’s palace. The problem is blending in well enough to not get noticed by the other servants.”

“I figured you would want to get closer.” He saw the triumphant smirk spreading over Taehyung’s features. “I already paid off a eunuch and maidservant to let us take their shift for a few hours. They also serve at the king’s palace.”

Narrowing his eyes, he sucked in air through his teeth. “...I’m not even going to ask you how you managed to get away with that.” Jimin cuffed the side of his head. “We’re not going to be staying around that long, you fool!”

Taehyung whined as he rubbed his scalp. “C’mon, it’s all I could manage, alright?” He quickly craned his neck back and forth. “But we need to go now. I told them we’d relieve them in the next half hour.”

“Dammit, Taehyung-ah! We’re not that close to the King’s palace right now!”

Jimin quickly folded the map and stuffed it back into his robes. They both stood up, making haste across the stone pathways. They had to be swift and careful. If any palace guards thought they looked suspicious, they would have to make a hasty exit and run for their very lives.

Dojin smirked as he watched the King puzzle over what move to make next in their game of Go. There were times when he would let the King win, simply in the name of their old friendship. Other times, he would opt to wipe the board with his pieces - trapping his friend and giving him no room to escape. The King claimed he was a ruthless strategist, to which Dojin often took it as a compliment. He was able to keep the King safe within the palace walls thanks to his strategies. He was offered the position of Grand General once, but Dojin promptly turned it down. If there ever came a time for war, he wanted to be at the King’s side - not on the battlefield.

As much as he missed his duties, Dojin enjoyed the quiet mountain life he currently lived. He did hard manual labor at the docks to help bring in a decent income and to keep his body hardened. The King and Queen both sent him monthly stipends to get by, enabling him to amass a small fortune. It was something he wasn’t really used to having and, personally, he could do without it. 

But the hard truth was that raising an infant wasn’t easy. Raising an infant without a wet nurse or any motherly figure in the picture was an absolutely daunting task. The first few years were, of course, difficult. When he knew weaning Yoongi on rice water wasn’t going to cut it, he had a woman in a small village help him since she’d just given birth and had milk to spare. He spun some story about his wife dying in childbirth.

That was when Dojin discovered that the village was remote, but self-sustainable. The mountain was his to claim and he built his current house at the highest he would dare without hurting the infant’s lungs from the high altitude. It was the beginning of a very long but fruitful relationship between himself and the young prince.

“You are terrible, Dojin-ah.”

The King’s voice cut through his inner musings. He smirked as he watched him mulling over which move to make next. Dojin knew if he was able to predict his strategy, he would be able to get out of the pit he was currently in. But if he didn’t, then it was game over. Again.

Dojin chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest. “Didn’t you always tell me to be relentless in these sorts of games, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, but this is unnecessary.” He watched the King snort, scratching at his beard. “I should be thankful that we’re friends. I shudder to think what would happen if we were enemies.”

“If we were enemies, Your Majesty, I would never have left your side.”

The King’s eyes lifted from the board to meet his own. “Why do you say that?”

Reaching for the teacup, he took a small sip. “Because the smartest strategy is to keep one’s enemies closer, is it not?”

“You jest far too much, my old friend.” The King lifted up one of the white pieces, slapping it down onto the board as he flashed a victorious smile. “Take that!”

Dojin hummed as he surveyed the board, approving the King’s move. He managed to wiggle out of his pincer hold. But it wouldn’t last. Sadly, he’d managed to leave his flank unprotected. 

Instead of attacking mercilessly, Dojin continued to drink his tea. It was getting later into the evening and he needed to set off for home at first light. Well, after acquiring a few provisions. He’d left Yoongi alone and while he knew the young prince could more than take care of himself, the parent in him wanted to be able to provide a decent meal and some new clothes. Kali would take care of keeping his hair trimmed short and if he needed entertainment, his friends in the village would amply provide. 

“Are you faring well financially, Dojin-ah?” 

Humming, he set his cup down. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“And Yoongi? Does the prince need anything?”

A lump formed in his throat. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Did he need anything? There were plenty of things he knew Yoongi needed. He needed to be able to live a life where he could walk freely in the streets of Joseon without worrying about someone noticing him. He needed to take comfort in knowing that he had a family, one outside of Dojin, that loved him and missed him greatly. He needed a mother’s comforting embrace. 

There were plenty of things that Yoongi needed and wanted. But that didn’t mean that he would be able to receive these said needs. It all stemmed from his birth, his origins, and the curse that currently branded his face. 

The very scar that his own father, the King, gave him.

Dojin lowered his head respectfully. “There are many things he needs, Your Majesty. Things that I cannot provide him.” He sighed, lifting his head. “I may have raised him and I do consider him my own son. But the truth, Your Majesty, is that I cannot give him everything he needs. That is out of my hands.”

He saw the pained expression forming on the King’s face. He hadn’t meant to reopen a wound that he knew wasn’t properly healed. Dojin knew that throwing Yoongi aside was the most torturous thing the King could have done. Anyone could see it. But for the sake of maintaining peace in the royal household, the King did what he felt he must to secure the hearts and minds of those inside the palace. Twin births equated to possible bloodshed. It would not be the princes’ faults. Blame would be placed at the Noble Factions who attempted to control the princes - pulling one in a direction and dragging the other into another.

“You know that I would want nothing more than to bring him back into the palace.” The King pressed his fingers into his temple. “He is my son. Nothing will change that. But I can’t have the Royal Court in an uproar over it.” He sighed, a tired look painting over his features. “His very existence is problematic. I have faith in the Crown Prince’s abilities and I admire his ambition. But the minute any of the other Noble Factions discover there is another prince with the right to the throne…” The King’s brows furrowed as he curled his hand into a fist at his knee. “Dojin-ah, you’ve seen it for yourself. You’ve seen what this palace looks like when there is turmoil in the Royal Household. I don’t wish that for my children.”

Dojin sighed, giving a solemn nod. “I know, Your Majesty. I know. I just hope that he’ll learn the truth one day...and figure out a way to cope with it.” His lips formed into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “You know, you could always come and see him yourself. It wouldn’t be your first time traveling incognito.”

The King chuckled. “I dare not without the Queen.”

“Bring her along, Your Majesty.” Dojin saw the surprise reflected in the King’s eyes. “I think he at least deserves to see the woman who brought him into this world, don’t you?”

It was hard to gauge the King’s thoughts at that moment. And there wasn’t a lot of time for him to process it. Because there was a slight disturbance in the hall. Nothing noticeable by any normal person’s ears. But for Dojin, a man who trained in martial arts since he was a child, who spent years honing his senses to peak conditions, could sense the air shifting behind the sliding doors of the King’s chambers. 

They were supposed to be alone. It was the only way for these sorts of conversations to even take place without prying ears. It was the safest way for His Majesty to indulge in the conversations he longed to have with an old friend.

Having that safety net tainted in any way angered Dojin.

Reaching into his robes, he gripped a pair of throwing knives between his fingers. He pressed a finger to his lips as he silently signaled to the King. The King nodded, sticking his hand into the bowl where his white Go pieces were. It would mask Dojin’s next move.

With a whip of his arm, he threw the knives out toward the hallway. They tore through the rice paper on the door - embedding into the floorboards. One set of feet shuffled away and another all but disappeared from hearing range. Dojin’s eyes narrowed as he quickly raced to the door, flinging the doors open and glaring into a now empty hallway. His gaze shifted to the floor where the knives were. There were a few droplets of blood on the polished wood.

He heard the King rise from his seat. “Assassins?”

“No. I didn’t sense any bloodlust from them. Probably a pair of curious servants.” Dojin slid the door closed. “Though it is getting late, Your Majesty. I need to be heading back home.”

“Should I notify the Palace Guards?” 

He knew the King was decent with a sword. Causing a panic in the middle of the night over non-combatants would be pointless. But loose lips would sink the fleet. Dojin couldn’t let that happen. It seemed his old ways of thinking were starting to breach the surface.

Pivoting on his heel, Dojin moved to pick up his sword and satchel. “That isn’t necessary.” He smirked. “In about two hours, it won’t matter.”

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 9: Angel's Breath

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,543

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi, @vivpurple7, @happilystrongthroughthedark, @sw33tnight, @nikkitane, @mini-coop25, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland​ @hobigif-ficrecs​​

AN: So, was anyone worried? Because I was...kinda sorta...maybe...

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Every moment hesitated is a moment gone from life.” - Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Yoongi bit his thumbnail as he waited with the others in one of the many backstreets of the Crown City. Despite his protests, they all agreed that it was best to hide themselves and meet in secret versus rendezvousing back at the tavern. He was pacing back and forth, his nerves completely frayed from having to anticipate the arrival of his friends. It shouldn’t have taken them this long. Yet the night continued to creep on steadily and before long, the lights from most of the lanterns were doused and vendors were closing their shops for the night.

“You’re going to create a trench if you keep it up.”

Seokjin’s voice interrupted Yoongi’s pacing, causing him to lift his gaze to meet his friend’s. Everyone else huddled around him, but thankfully not enough for him to feel crowded. He was keenly aware of their concern and as much as he appreciated it, there was a lingering ache of doubt pulsing around his chest. Regardless of how desperate he was for answers, it didn’t need to result in anything untoward happening to his comrades. 

A hand clapped his shoulder roughly, shaking him just a bit. Craning his neck, he peered back into Hoseok’s face as he gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

Seconds after the words spilled from his mouth, they all heard scuffling footsteps rushing in their direction. Everyone was immediately on alert, their bodies tensing as they waited for whoever was approaching them. But instead of relief washing over them upon seeing Taehyung, dread snatched at Yoongi’s heart when it was clear that Jimin was being all but dragged alongside him. His friend’s complexion looked unusually fair and the sweat shone on his brow from the light of the moon.

Namjoon and Yoongi were at their side in an instant as the others moved around, creating a small storm of chaos in the backstreets. Whatever adrenaline was pushing Taehyung at that moment gave out as he collapsed to his knees, taking Jimin right along with him.

“Jimin-ah! Hey!” Hoseok shook him, trying to get his friend to respond. 

Jimin opened one lid slowly, the white of his eye completely bloodshot. “H-Hyung...nim…” 

Yoongi cupped his face in both of his hands, lifting his head up gently. “What happened to you?!”

He watched his friend opening his mouth to speak. But before he could get the words out, he harshly coughed a spray of red mist. Flecks of blood stained Yoongi’s cheeks and he saw Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He passed out instantly. Jungkook made a croaking sound behind them, but he barely heard it. Before any of them could stop him, Yoongi was shoving Taehyung out of the way so he could heft Jimin onto his back. 

“H-Hyung-nim!” Namjoon called out to him, but Yoongi was already moving.

“We need to go,” he said, his legs carrying him down the backstreet, “he’s been poisoned.”

There wasn’t time for conversation. Yoongi had no way of determining how long the poison was in Jimin’s system. If he was beginning to cough up blood, however, that meant that it was already reaching his lungs and managed to rupture something. If they couldn’t find an antidote in time, Jimin would not be long for this world. 

Kali! It was the first solution he could come up with. I have to take him to Kali-ssi!

Thankfully, she didn’t live far from the Crown City. They needed to get to their horses and do so in haste. If Yoongi pushed his steed hard enough, they could get to Kali’s home within the hour.

He barely heard his friends yelling after him. With what strength he could muster in his frantic state, Yoongi deposited Jimin onto the horse. Before his friend could fall forward and off the horse, he jumped up and settled himself onto the saddle. He wrapped Jimin’s arms around his waist, gripping the reins tightly in his hands and kicking the horse’s flank with his heels. The horse neighed in response, lunging forward on command as Yoongi began praying that his friend would hold on long enough to reach their destination.

With poison, it was always a race against time.

The cauldron bubbled loudly as Kali stirred the large wooden spoon dipped within. The medicinal aroma filled the open space of her workshop, causing beads of sweat to break out along her forehead. She swiped at her skin with a linen handkerchief, taking a breath as she dropped a few more ingredients into the mixture. Releasing her hold on the spoon, she picked up the two thick wooden sticks and lifted them up from within the depths of the cauldron. Attached to them was a sheet of sheer linen, the center dipping from the weight of some dark substance. 

She quickly shifted the item over a large ceramic bowl, twisting the sticks and tightening the linen so that the juices were squeezed from the makeshift sack she created from it. The dark brown liquid dripped steadily into the bowl and once she was satisfied, she set the sticks and linen to the side. With a wave of her hand, Kali extinguished the flames cooking inside the furnace, the cauldron bubbling a little more quietly now.

Picking up a fan, she waved it over the bowl to cool the mixture. A somber expression painted her features as she fanned, not liking the purpose of the tonic she’d just created. But Kali knew that the quicker she worked, the more prepared she would be when the time came. 

Her vision from the previous night disturbed her.

Just as the tonic began to cool, thundering knocks of desperation boomed from the large wooden gate of her estate. Sighing, she set the fan aside and gathered up her skirts, running to the door. Kali rarely rued the day she refused to have attendants in her home. This was one of those moments. 

She quickly lifted the wooden bracer from the metal supports, pushing the gate open. As she expected, Yoongi was on the other side. His expression was desperate and wild and she wasted no time gesturing for him to come inside. His other companions were hot on his heels. They looked at her curiously, but she ignored them and waited for the last one to enter before shutting the gate closed and replacing the bracer. 

Yoongi whirled around to look at her, the burden on his back barely hanging on to him. “K-Kali-ssi!”

Kali did her best to appear calm as she so often did. The young man was in near tears, but it was clear he was doing everything in his own power to keep himself from breaking down. She reached out to stroke his cheek with one hand while pointing up to the stairs leading into the main house of her estate. 

“Take the first door on the right, Young Master.” She turned to look at the others. “Feel free to accompany him, but do not crowd your friend. I will need space to work.”

Without waiting for their answers, Kali retreated back to her workshop to retrieve the ceramic bowl that was finally cooled down to the desired temperature. It took several hours to prepare the brew and she was thankful for the time to herself to make it. 

Unfortunately, antidotes didn’t just make themselves.

Securing the bowl between her hands, Kali made her way into the manor. There was a rush of voices coming from the guest room and she could sense the apprehension and fear soaking through the walls. Pressing a hand to her forehead to drown out the emotions, she slid the door open. The boys grew silent as she approached, separating themselves from the huddle they were in to allow Kali to pass between them. Yoongi vacated the small stool that was beside the bed and Kali took the seat, her hand reaching out to help the young man who was breathing rapidly. His complexion was growing more ashen with each passing second, but she knew he would be fine. She’d made all the necessary preparations after all.

“Someone please gently rub his throat while I pour this into his mouth.” A hand reached out to help her and as the dark liquid passed his lips, she saw his throat relaxing enough to allow for the medicine to go down easily. When the bowl was empty, Kali smiled and eased the young man back down onto the bed, pulling the blanket up just below his chin. “He’ll be alright. He just needs to rest.”

Collective sighs filled the room as she turned to face Yoongi. He immediately grasped her hand in his, giving it a hard squeeze. She felt him trembling and she forced the smile to remain on her features to help ease whatever anxieties were left inside of him.

“Thank you so much, Kali-ssi,” he said, collapsing to his knees, “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Kali reached out to stroke his dark hair through her fingers. “There’s nothing to repay, Young Master.” She looked at the others in the room, their eyes moving from her face and down to the floor. Chuckling, she shook her head and stood, bringing Yoongi up with her. “You boys look a little fatigued yourselves. If one of you could fetch your horses and put them in the stables, I will prepare a meal for you.”

The young man with the short beard stepped forward, his brows furrowing. “No, we can’t impose. You’ve already done enough by helping our friend.”

“Nonsense.” Reaching into the sleeve of her robe, she pulled out a strip of satin and began tying her sleeves back so they were out of her way. “Your friend will need to rest for a couple of days. Moving him from this bed is ill advised. You may as well stay until he’s fully recovered.” 

And before she could hear anymore protests, she exited the room and began heading toward the kitchen. Kali was barely inside the expansive space when she felt arms encircling her waist, forcing her to a halt. Without having to turn around, she already knew who it was. She gave his hand a gentle pat. 

“There, there,” she cooed, feeling Yoongi’s arms tighten around her waist, “none of that, understand?”

“K-Kali-ssi…” The sob he uttered was muffled into her robes. “...it’s my fault. It’s all my fault!”

She frowned, turning slowly in his arms. Yoongi’s head was lowered, as if he was ashamed to look into her eyes. Dissatisfied with this, she gently grasped his chin and lifted his face so that he was forced to look at her. Tears brimmed his dark eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. She quickly swiped at them, stroking her thumbs along his cheeks.

“None of this was your fault, Young Master.”

“Yes it is!” He shut his eyes tight, his brows furrowing and creating harsh lines on his forehead. “This happened because of me!”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Because you saw someone else with your face and had questions?” She watched his eyes open, wide with shock presumably at how unsurprised her voice sounded. “You simply wanted to ascertain the truth, did you not? So how is that any fault of yours?”

Yoongi’s lower lip trembled. He visibly appeared to be struggling with what to say and she patiently waited for him to gather his thoughts to the best of his ability. It hurt her to see him in this state, but she knew that this was also part of his destiny. This moment in his life was unavoidable. The hands of man could only intervene so much before Fate decided it had enough. 

Today was that day. This was simply the beginning.

Kali felt Yoongi shift under her grasp, trying to avert his gaze again. She wouldn’t let him. This time she cupped his cheeks in her palms, forcing him to keep his eyes locked onto her own. Tears continued to leak from his eyes and she knew he was in pain. But he couldn’t run from this. There would be no running from any of this.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” Yoongi gripped her elbows, as though he were trying to keep himself from falling. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore!”

Smiling, Kali gathered him up into her arms and wrapped him in what she hoped was a soothing embrace. He openly sobbed into her chest, curling his fingers into her back while she, in turn, rubbed soothing circles against his. Yoongi truly was too good; too pure and innocent. Even in the middle of his own muddled thoughts, he was berating himself for involving his friends in helping him to seek answers to questions he didn’t realize he had. There was no shame in that. It wasn’t a crime to ask for help. Kali knew he would need to continue to do just that for as long as he walked this road Fate placed him on.

“I cannot tell you what is happening, Young Master. It is not my place to do so.” She felt him hiccup against the crook of her neck, causing her to close her eyes while carding her fingers through his hair. “You must continue to seek the answers for yourself. You’ve reached your first crossroad and it is time for you to decide which direction you will go from here on out.”

Pulling away from her, he peered down into her face. His expression was torn between two different emotions. Kali had an idea of what those two feelings were, but she remained silent. 

Yoongi’s lips formed into a thin line before parting to speak. “What if I make the wrong choice?”

“It doesn’t matter which choice you make.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Why doesn’t it matter? What the hell does that even mean?!”

“What I am telling you,” she replied calmly, “is that whatever choice you make is neither right nor wrong. It is simply a choice. It will help shape your future, but it will not change the end result.”

It was like gravity suddenly tugged at Yoongi’s knees, forcing him to the ground. Kali gathered herself onto the floor with him as his hands fell dejected at his sides. It was too early for him to feel defeated. He had to stand up and take his destiny by the horns. There would be much more heartache in the future and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. All the sorceress could do was help him along the way. 

She sighed, reaching out to place her hands on his shoulders. “You really are too good for this world…”

Yoongi buried his face into his hands and Kali watched as he gave a muffled groan in despair. But this would be temporary. He had to be able to overcome this small hurdle. If he couldn’t, then it would mean the end. The dragon would die before it could rise up from the muddy ditch he was reared in. Kali knew she couldn’t let that happen.

She would die before she would let it.

Tis Autumn (1952)

Inspired by the song, Tis Autumn by Ella Fitzgerald

Soloist! Min Yoongi! X Chubby! Poc! Reader!

Non! Idol Au, Fluff, Slight naughty thoughts, Vintage setting, and Racial discrimination.

“ Is  Autumn always chilly here?” 

Yoongi often complained about the frigid American weather, but despite the unpleasant breeze nipping his bleeding light pink cheeks, He wouldn't dare budge.

Min Yoongi, a twenty-five-year-old man from overseas who adored traveling and known as a prodigy for his adoration towards music, the proof of his hardship, is the callus layering his fingertips.

You would think a man with skillful hands like his would be performing in front of a massive amount of admiring fans wanting pieces of him left and right.

However, the cruel prejudice against him is based not on his musical endeavors but his race and nationality.

Therefore, He planted his roots at a piano bench in a garden he thought at first glance was abandoned. Yoongi’s dancing fingers drew the attention of an unexpected beauty living just above the piano.

He only caught a glimpse of her one breaking dawn while the crisp autumn leaves descend from the tried trees around him. Her melanated skin shimmered as she opened the window to bathe in the sun or to hear him a little better? Well, A man can dream.

Yoongi found himself in fascinated by the mysterious woman and frequently played his heart out to get her to harmonize to his melody.

” Aish.” He groaned in another defect. He's poor fingers have been all morning but to no avail.

She wouldn't give him the time of day, it seems. Yoongi become frustrated by the lack of attention. What did she think he's out here with a red nose for kicks?

Yoongi bites his bottom lip. Maybe-Maybe he has to get out of his comfort zone; the Korean man only played symphonies due to his deficiency in the English language, but perhaps singing an American tune would pique her interest.

Later that afternoon, Yoongi swallowed his pride and sang a popular song by Johnny Tillotson named Why do I say so. A perfect ballad for which a stubborn beauty like her.

” My darlin’ I have often thought of things we used to do, and now I sit, and why you're gone and left me blue You said you’d never leave me, You said never go

Oh my darlin, Why do I love so?

Oh my darling, Why do I love so?”

Yoongi smiled, getting into the groove of the beat, but the smile faded, for there was no beauty insight. He clicked his tongue. Really! Nothing!?

” You have a lovely deep voice. It's charming.” A voice like milk and honey-kissed at his ears.

Yoongi jumped, hitting his knees on the piano. ” Oww!” He stood towering over the beauty of his dreams.

She stood shamelessly in bedtime attire with her arms folded against her chest.

The Princess And The Ghost

Synopsis• Can the living marry the dead? A question the princess dares to ask after falling in love with a ghost whose past life has been long forgotten.

Duo• Princess! Reader x Royal! BTS but mainly Ghost! Jimin

Genres • Royal Au, Romcom, Horror (Boo!), and Magic

Beware! Namjoon is a slight meanie and a know it all *Rolls eyes*

At noon, In the imperial library, The moonlight sonata by Ludwig Van Beethoven is elaborately recomposed on the grand piano. This dates back to the first time your ears had ever heard of such a celestial piece of music performed flawlessly. You gathered the ends of your informal ball gown, rushing to applause the skillful instrumentalist.

However, To your dismay, not a person in sight.

The following ended in the same result. How could a person disappear so rapidly in which a short amount of time? How peculiar? You asked the servants about the mysterious symphony, but their answers were the same.

"Me? Play the piano?! My humblest apologies, Your Grace, but I can only cook." Said the chef.

"My word Miss, Have you become ill? No one else is allowed in the library besides you and the king." Cried Matilda, the head maid.

That's right, Only those of the royal bloodline are permitted to step foot in the library, which you thought was appalling everyone deserves to read. Oh! The royal librarian must know or perhaps the blessing to your prayers.

"Namjoon?! Sir Namjoon?!"

"Princess! You'll wake the dead. This is a library; please be a bit more considerate." Namjoon scolded, Looking over his glasses. Why didn't you think of this before? Namjoon is not only the royal librarian, but He's also your teacher as well. The kingdom's genius surely knows how the play the piano.

"I'm sorry, Namjoon, but I have a question."

Namjoon gave you his undivided attention, setting aside his novel. "What troubles you, Princess?"

"Can you play the piano?"

He scoffed as if he were insulted. "Why, of course, I can play the piano. Do you take me for some type of buffoon?" He advanced to the piano and began to play.

You watched and listened, but it didn't sound the same. Although Namjoon's fingers danced among the keys similar to this afternoon, the melody was missing something; it wasn't right.

Either way, You praised his brilliance after his performance but left in sorrow. This afternoon you sat in the library with a spot of tea; you've been there since early this morning because of your father becoming unbearable when he's on his 'We need to a compatible successor to have my lovely daughter's hand in marriage.' streak.

That's when you witness the impossible; the piano began to play on its own. Astounded, you held your breath as a figure of a man feebly appeared at the piano. His colorless eyes had no pupils, skin of virgin snow, hair as black as night. Nothing took his interest.

The more you observe, the more solid his form appears. His plush lips faded to pale pink.

He froze, raising his head to you, and smiled.

You gently reached your hand; you wished to touch him, but before you had the chance, the doors flew open.

"Miss! Miss! Duke, Seokjin is here for brunch! He's earlier than expected. We might get you ready immediately." Matilda snatched your hand and ran towards the door.

"But wait, there's a man-" You looked back to nothing but thin air. " But he was right there!?"

"Enough, Miss, please let's go, or else; your father will have me head." She begged.

"Yes-of..oTf course."

PLS CAN YOU FEED US MORE hero of the nation knight!childe ON MY KNEES I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH AND I SEARCHED EVERYWHERE FOR A FIC LIKE THIS

This took FOREVER to write, but here you go!!

Blessings Be to The Hero of the Nation

Historical AU

Yandere Hero of the Nation! Childe x Fem! Reader

TW: yandere themes, stalking, minor character death, blood, threatening, forced marriage/engagement

He kept one of your hair ribbons wrapped around the hilt of his sword. It billowed in the wind constantly and would draw watchful eyes to it. That pastel pink fabric didn't match a single thing on his brutish, usually bloody exterior, but he still kept it regardless. You tragically didn't give it to him in a blatant display of affection and well wishes for him on his journey, instead, he found the little ribbon after it'd blown off your head and up to the wind. A little pout formed on your lips realizing you'd lost it, but you decided against retrieving it. He didn't though. He picked it up and placed it in his pocket, taking it home to clean off the dirt and grime.

That same ribbon was clenched in his hands when he arrived at the gate of your manor, along with a few other gifts that he would give to you. He'd just slayed the dragon, the wretched menace that was terrorizing the nation, now and only now did he feel worthy to ask for your hand. Cleaning off all the blood and gore that was on his armor, polishing it into light metal that could blind anyone who looked directly at it, he was certain that this would charm you off of your feet.

When he was invited into your home by your parents who were surprised to see the hero himself at their door, he didn't care about the tea or the cakes. The praise meant nothing coming from them. He skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the point. He wanted your hand in marriage and he wanted the wedding to be soon.

A skittish expression crossed your father's face as he gritted his teeth, “We've decided to leave that decision up to her.” Childe smirked, that was even better. He'd never met a woman who wouldn't fall for his charms.

You were called down from your room, eyelids heavy and half open, still in your thin sleeping gown with a robe over it. You were rubbing the tiredness from your eyes as you walked down the stairs, your other delicate hand gripping the banister. And when you saw him, you bowed. A deep traditional bow, given to those of a respectable higher status.

He kneeled down on one knee before you. The male kneeled for only one person, the queen herself. His sword pulled from its sheath, he laid it flat against his palms, offering it up to you. That knocked the sleepiness from his body and suddenly your eyes were wide open. Genuine shock was making your body stiff as a board and you looked back and forth to your parents who didn't say a word.

“Your visage has danced around my heart non stop since the first time I laid eyes on you. I wish to use this sword only to fight for you. Won't you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Words spoken in honor, with him meaning every bit of it. You were meant to take the sword from his hands, tapping it gently upon each of his shoulders, but you didn't. You just stood there, lips trembling, but not saying anything.

A marriage proposal via a letter was easy to ignore or reject, you didn't have to see their reaction. But never had you had someone be so bold as to propose to you in person. And not only that, the very hero that saved the Kingdom. Rumors told you he'd be marrying the first princess, she obsessed over him before he became the hero and those feelings seemed to only grow stronger after he waltzed into the city with the bloody head of the beast. Yet here he was at your feet, patiently anticipating your answer which he was positive was going to be a yes.

“I-'' you began, trying to think of the easiest way to let him down gently, “I fear that I'm not ready for marriage yet.” You said hurriedly. That wasn’t entirely a lie. You spent countless hours looking at the list of marriage candidates and scoping them out at balls and parties, but quickly realizing that none of them suited your tastes in that way. The entire idea of being wed barely satisfied you. You wanted to push it off for as long as possible.

“I'm willing to wait for you until the world crumbles. I'd even accept being your fiance until the day we die, as long as I can say you're mine,” he was persistent, you'd give him that.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously. Time felt as if it had stopped and this moment would never end. No matter what you did, he was still going to be there, “I thought you were to be wed to her highness, the princess?” You questioned him.

A scoff fell from his cherry pink lips, eyes looking you up and down, drinking in every inch of your body in that thin nightgown, “She does not interest me. Not the way you do.”

“There is really nothing interesting about me,”

“Won't you let me be the judge of that?”

Your shoulders slumped as you looked to your parents. They seemed as surprised by his persistence as you did, but weren't going to step in to help you, they always affirmed that it was your decision, they wanted you to be independent.

“Forgive me, hero, but I can not accept your offer,”

For just a split second you saw that princely expression slip. His eyes grew dark, lips in a deep frown, a rage you'd never seen before. But he was back to his usual expression in less than a second, that charming smile forming on his lips again as he stood from his knees and sheathed his sword a little too slowly.

“You wound me, my lady,” he'd mutter softly, hands still conveniently tight around the hilt of this sword, “Won't you please accept my gifts? And if you are to begin considering marriage, I hope that my proposal will be remembered fondly.”

Childe showed himself out, a little too quickly, but you didn't dare tell him to slow down. It was only once he was out those large double doors, did the air in your home feel breathable, you finally felt safe again. You watched his carriage leave from a window, watching as his eyes went dull again, losing all shimmers and feeling like a hollow mimicry of what humans were supposed to look like.

You were quite embarrassed to say you fell in love after that. Not with Childe, of course. You mentally tried to push the man from your mind after the way he startled both you and your family. Instead, your feelings developed for a commoner boy. You found yourself eyeing him when he'd deliver produce to your home, his face being one of pure beauty despite his messy exterior. As months went by, you'd catch yourself stealing bashful glances at him, locking eyes only for both of you to look away shyly. When the engagement was announced, Childe was one of the first to hear about it.

You twirled around the house in your wedding dress. Something plain and basic, but it was what your family could afford, and quite honestly, you loved it. You didn't want to take it off. Your fear of getting it dirty lessened as the days went by, until the wedding was only a week away.

“A guest for you, my lady,” one of your maids had said. Typically, when the employees of the house saw you dressed in your white gown, they'd smile at you, overjoyed as well. But she didn't. She looked worried, even a bit tense as she made the announcement to you.

“I hadn't arranged to meet anyone today,” you said a bit quietly, going to you closer to pick out something to change into, “Please tell them to wait in the day room.”

She stood stiffly for a second, then opened her trembling mouth to speak again, “I tried to, my lady. But he insisted on seeing you right now. He's just outside the door,”

A part of you wanted to ask who it was, who would be so disrespectful as to barge right up to a lady's room without her permission. But you already knew. There was a sense of unease sinking into your stomach. Unease and recognition. All the gifts and letters he'd sent weren't enough, were they? The man you were ignoring just had to come see you in person.

“Let him in,” you told the maid. She seemed confused at the ease at which you allowed such a thing, but still opened the door, revealing Childe who stood still in the hallway. He stepped past her, eyes only trained on you, “You're dismissed,” you said quietly, with a reassuring smile to the maid. Hesitance danced across her face, looking back and forth between you Childe, but she still did as told, bowing before leaving.

“You look lovely,” he said breathlessly, taking in the sight of you in that pure white dress.

“Thank you,” was all you could think to say back. Now that he was here before you, your mind was growing blank, all the things you wanted to say suddenly getting lost in fear. You tried not to notice the tension in the room, the way he was eyeing you like a predator about to pounce on a rabbit, but even your tough exterior was easy to see through.

“My heart aches for you, my lady,” he speaks softly while taking slow steps towards you. The terror of this situation made you move backwards, until your feet had made you press your back against the wall, “I fear that my haste might've made me do something…irrational.”

His dominant hand seems focused on the sword at his hip, making you look at it. It was only when you saw the red speckles all over his hand, hilt of the sword, and the oddly familiar pink ribbon he kept tied around it, did that coppery smell fill your nostrils.

With a trembling voice and a fake smile, you tried to assure him, “Any mistake is fixable, Sir Childe.”

“Not this one,” his hand continued to hold the hilt of his sword, squeezing it a few times as of testing the weight of his blade, “Do you know the best part of being the hero? The dragon slayer?” He asked, waiting for your response which was just a slow, forced shake of your head, prompting him to continue, “It's not the riches or the praise. It's not even the women.” As he speaks, one of his hands slides down from your cheek, to your neck, to the bodice of your dress. Tearful eyes look down to see him smearing that red liquid, that blood onto you white dress, staining it.

“I don't understand,” you mumbled, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“The best part of being the hero, is the freedom to do what I want. With no prosecution. Who in their right mind would stand up to the man who saved our failing nation? The answer is no one. Not the king, nor his workers, and especially not your weak little fiance,”

The sight and smell of blood, Childe's deep, hollow blue eyes, the way your heart felt as if it wanted to lurch out of your mouth. All things you tried to focus on as his words pounded their way into your skull, understanding washing over you like a wave that was trying to drown you where you stood.

“Wh-what did you do?” Your voice, so high pitched and breaking as the weight of the words forced through your body.

His hand, cold, soft, wet with blood rubbed your cheek, while his face never faltered, those dead eyes never changing, he had no remorse. It made you sick to your stomach, images of your fiance flashing through your head as you tried to imagine what he looked like, the hopeful ones saying that he was at least still alive.

“I'm going to ask again, nicely this time,” he began while pulling a ring from his pocket. Much more intricate than the one your fiance had given you, seeing as he had the hero's budget. But that didn't make you feel any less light headed when it was slipped onto your ring finger, freezing cold against your warm skin, “Will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”

I read a BTS ot7 x reader long time ago but I don't remember the name... the plot was something like y/n was a medical doctor and went to the palace to work but the king mistook her as the possible bride of their sons (bts) but she doesn't dare to say that she is the new medical doctor of the palace, the king was sick and I think the Queen hated y/n. I don't remember much more but I remember it contained smut. Does anyone know the name of the fic? It was a historical au.

andante cantabile || MYG x reader

pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut in epilogue

chapter rating: 13+

wc: 10.4k

summary: You are convinced Mr. Min is nothing but a rude and gloomy man after he leaves a horrible first impression on you. His friends' attempts to convince you otherwise are met with mixed success.

warnings: pianist!yoongi, jane austen rip-off, enemies to lovers if you squint, slow burn, mention of parent death, jungkook is the reader’s younger brother, full ot7 as supporting cast

note: I’m finally crossposting to tumblr again! A little nervous, mostly excited 😊 It’s exactly two years ago that I first posted this story, and I’m still really proud of it. The writing style was a fun challenge, definitely a bit of an experiment but I hope you enjoy!

(Posted as a oneshot on ao3, split into smaller parts for tumblr. That does mean the first part has relatively more screentime for the supporting cast, but there is a lot of regency!Yoongi goodness coming up 💕)

masterlist: 1 | 2 | 3 | coda

“Jungkook.” With an urgent whisper, you shook your brother awake. “Kookie!”

Your little brother had been sound asleep, curled up in the sheets, but he stirred at your insistent poking of his cheek.

“Wh— what’s going on?” he asked groggily, trying to escape your prodding finger. The five-year old boy sat cross-legged on the bed, his mouth hanging open as he blinked tiredly at you.

“It’s a full moon, remember!” you said, jumping off the bed. You pulled back his heavy curtains with a dramatic flair, an effect somewhat ruined by the fact Jungkook’s window did not afford a view of the aforementioned moon.

His only response to your words a bleary stare, Jungkook looked on the brink of falling back to sleep.

Unacceptable!

Drawing yourself up to your full eight-year old height, you pulled Jungkook out of the bed and to the window. He yawned loudly, rubbing at his eyes as he dragged his feet.

“Come on,” you urged him, lifting him up to sit in the window sill, then clambered up yourself and undid the latch. “We have a ghost to catch!”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” he said, pouting at you. “Jimin told me so.”

You sniffed. “Jimin is only seven. Do you trust him over me?” The cool night air brushed against your bare arms as you opened the window and you suppressed a shiver, hastening to readjust your cloak.

Jungkook put his arms around his knees, nuzzling into the fabric of his nightgown. “No,” he finally admitted.

“Then let’s go!”

In the end, you never caught any ghost—though Jungkook did catch a terrible cold. Still, for a long time you insisted one haunted the orchard until the passing of years forced you to grow up and put an end to your nightly adventures, the full moon a beautiful sight but nothing more.

“Miss Jeon!” a voice called out across the meadow.

The wind almost caught your straw bonnet when you looked up from the field of yellow flowers. With one hand you clutched onto your hat, the other filled with the flowers you had picked. You smiled at the sight of Areum Kim, your neighbour and oldest friend. Though she did not always carry herself with the greatest sense of propriety, you could not fault her for that. Indeed, she was the one person in whom you failed to recognise it as a fault at all.

She hurried down the stone path to you, her sister-in-law in her wake.

“Areum, Mrs. Kim,” you said warmly, giving a small curtsy. “What brings you here?”

Doyeon Kim, a delicate woman with striking eyes, sent a teasing smile Areum’s way. “Seokjin received a letter from his cousin today,” she said.

“Oh, do let me tell,” Areum protested, clutching onto Doyeon’s arm. She turned to you without waiting for an answer, radiating excitement. “My cousin Namjoon bought a summer home right here in Southdon, and he is coming over next month! Not only that, but he’ll bring his brother and some friends from London. London!”

“Your cousin? That is wonderful news!” you said. You had met him once before at the wedding of Seokjin and Doyeon Kim, though his younger brother had been too sick to travel at the time. He’d been a handsome man, with smart manners and a dimpled smile that motivated you to keep him in high spirits.

Areum nodded with enthusiasm. “And you will finally meet Taehyungie! Your brother is almost of an age with him, I am sure they will get along most splendidly.”

Doyeon laughed, a bright sound she hid behind her hand. “I have yet to find the person Taehyung does not get along with. That being said, his temperament does seem like a good match for Mr. Jeon’s.”

“Then I look forward to the two making their acquaintance,” you said, always pleased to see your brother make new friends.

The month passed by with little happenings of note. An expectant vibration hung in the air of Southdon, anticipating the arrival of Namjoon Kim and his party; particularly the well-to-do bachelors from London he was rumoured to bring. While your hometown was not without society, the city of London always cast a spell of curiosity and marvel.

Your younger brother was particularly excited, eager for the opportunity to expand his social circle. Frequently you overheard him with your other neighbour, Jimin Park, crafting plans for activities they could undertake with the newcomers.

As for your father, he made sure to note their bachelor status, though he knew better than to press the subject. The generous condition of your family’s financial and social standing meant you did not want for attention from suitors, but it also provided you with the luxury to be quite selective about a potential husband. Jungkook had once horrified your father by suggesting you not be married at all and instead become the residential spinster of Aberton Hall, where Jungkook assured he’d provide anything his beloved sister desired.

Now, while your disposition towards marriage was not wholly unfavourable, Jungkook’s half-serious jests always put your mind at ease, erasing any pressure you might have felt. He enabled you to approach the subject strictly on your own terms, and for that you would always be grateful.

So you awaited the arrival of the much anticipated party with no frivolities clogging up your thoughts, no expectations begging to be dashed. Instead you merely enjoyed the prospect of reacquainting yourself with Namjoon Kim and the doubled efforts that society would put into their events this season. Already Areum gushed to anyone who would listen (or pretend to) about the preparations she was making for a ball to welcome her cousins. She only needed the slightest provocation to throw an event, and her brother tended to indulge her fancies.

It was when Jungkook and you were engaged in a friendly practise bout of fencing that a letter arrived—and quite timely as well, for your brother had been beating you quite handily. His skills with the foil were unparallelled in the county and so sparring with him always brought mixed feelings on your part; you appreciated the challenge, but hated to lose. As much as you enjoyed going up against your brother, there were only so many defeats your ego could bear.

Your mask tucked under your arm, you thanked the servant for bringing the letter. Jungkook wiped his forehead, skin shiny with perspiration, watching as you read the letter and took in its contents.

“Who is it from?” he asked once you had finished.

“Mr. Kim,” you said, gently folding up the paper with a smile that refused to be contained. “He has called upon us for dinner next week. His cousins will also be attending.”

Jungkook’s face brightened with obvious elation. “How fortunate! I have been pestering father to invite Mr. Namjoon Kim and his companions over as soon as possible, but he insisted they must be allowed to settle in peace.”

His fervour brought out a warm laugh from you. “Father has a point,” you conceded, “but we are lucky to have such a considerate neighbour. He is kind to include us while he must have plenty of catching up to do with his family.”

“Which they can do just as easily in our presence,” Jungkook said, resting his forearms on your shoulders as he leaned against your back. With an exaggerated flair you fell forward, pretending to buckle underneath your brother’s weight. He laughed and held onto you to keep you on your feet. “You must agree, do you not?” he said with the pleased confidence of a man already sure of the answer.

You put the letter aside and took up your foil once more. “It does not matter if I do,” you teased. “We have been invited, to refuse would be most rude. Now, let’s continue!”

“Are you certain? I would hate to wound your dignity even further,” he said, the grin on his lips saturated with mischievous pride.

“Oh, I doubt you would,” you said, putting your mask back on. “But you will have to beat me first!”

If there was one circumstance that allowed you a fair chance to beat your brother, it was when his confidence soared too high. You would not pass on this rare opportunity, too enticed by the lure of victory. Jungkook’s eyes glinted as he also donned his mask, rising to your bait. You slid into a proper stance and Jungkook did the same, carrying on your ‘friendly’ practise bout.

Once Namjoon Kim arrived in Southdon, taking residence in Bexlow House, it took no time at all for rumours to circulate about him and his companions.

Hoseok Jung and Yoongi Min stirred up dust in particular; a rich yet eccentric patron of the arts and the pianist he doted on. Apparently Mr. Min was making quite a name for himself in London (or so Park told you, whose aunt spoke of him in her letters) but he came from old money, leading you to suspect his growing fame might not be based on skill alone. Fortunately, Mr. Seokjin Kim’s invitation ensured you did not have to wait long for the opportunity to turn hearsay and speculation into solid fact.

You could not help but tease Jungkook for his palpable enthusiasm as the carriage rode you towards Mr. Kim’s estate, a shine to his boyish face. “I swear,” you said, “you are more excited about them than Mrs. Lee and her daughters.”

Unabashed, Jungkook grinned at you. “Of course! After all, we do not often have new faces around here.” He looked his best today, in a fitted tailcoat of deep burgundy and his dark brown hair parted with an artful tousle to reveal his forehead, while the narrow shape of his waist evidenced the presence of a corset.

“Of course,” you affirmed with a smile. Surely his eagerness had nothing to do with the deep admiration that Namjoon Kim had instilled in Jungkook when they previously met. Three years of age difference made quite an impact, and Jungkook had followed the older boy around like an imprinted duckling.

The past years had done little to temper Jungkook’s memory, his idolisation back in full force. But Namjoon Kim had also left quite a positive impression on you, so you could understand your brother’s feelings. You only hoped the man had aged well, saving Jungkook from bitter disappointment.

With Acton Field only two miles from your home, the carriage ride did not take long. You had a beautiful view of its apple grooves, a lush green after the trees already shed their flowers through spring.

“Mr. and Miss Jeon! Welcome!”

Seokjin Kim gave you a jovial greeting, a wide smile painted across his beautiful face. Your neighbour had always been an attractive man and years of a flourishing marriage had only increased his charms. Always a proper man of the house, he made introductions between the various parties.

Expectation lived up to reality; not only as handsome as you remembered, but the years had lent Namjoon Kim a maturity that suited him well. His younger brother Taehyung made a striking figure himself, with large eyes and an intense expression that bordered the line of intimidating, until a rectangular grin softened his face when Seokjin introduced him.

Perhaps the Kims’ elegance attracted company of equal refinement, you mused. Mr. Jung certainly matched them with his sharp jawline, the very picture of aristocratic dapperness. And then there was Mr. Min, whose dour expression could not diminish his delicate features. Skin pale as porcelain contrasted by dark hair and dark eyes that regarded his surroundings with a certain caution. Not the most charming of men, but undeniably fair to look upon.

Areum drew you into a conversation with her youngest cousin, pleased to finally have you meet him. You quickly came to understand the confidence she had in a friendship between him and Jungkook; he was an amicable sort, earnest and up-beat. You spared a glance at your brother, and concealed a sympathetic wince.

As personable as Jungkook was, he had never grown out of his shyness—a consequence of living in such a small and unchanging community, you suspected. You did wish your father had not kept you and Jungkook so sheltered, but you understood where his protectiveness came from.

Now Jungkook stood next to Mr. Jung and Mr. Namjoon Kim, a clear battle in his doe eyes. His instinct to disappear into the background clashing with the desire to speak with the man he so looked up to. Fortunately Jung proved talkative enough for three men combined, easily entertaining with tales of London.

Besides, Jungkook was not the only quiet one in the drawing room.

Mr. Min stood with Seokjin Kim and his wife, and while he politely answered their questions, he struck you as distinctly unhappy to be there. Mrs. Kim was the very embodiment of hospitality, her face lit up with a smile that ought to lift the spirits of any guest. Yet Min proved immune, eyes restless as they wandered around the room. Did he truly think the company so poor? Seokjin’s japes were not so horrible.

The rumours had led you to believe Mr. Jung was the eccentric one, but at least the man showed himself to be likable. You adjusted your expectations of Mr. Min’s skills on the pianoforte; for people to put up with his disposition he must be talented indeed.

“Don’t you think so, Miss Jeon?” Areum asked, interrupting your inner musings.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” you replied without missing a beat, effortlessly stepping back into the conversation. “There are some rich fishing waters on our grounds, I am sure my brother would love to take you.”

There, a seed planted to create a connection, you thought, satisfied at your efforts to help Jungkook. Taehyung responded positively to the idea, adding that Mr. Min was an avid fisher as well.

You smiled, but your lips were pressed together tightly. Concealing the dreadful impression Mr. Min had made on you, you smoothly proposed a group outing for the men. After all, Seokjin Kim would be distraught if left out.

You cast a furtive glance at Yoongi Min, but was startled to find his eyes already on you. With a sudden rush of embarrassment you dropped your gaze to the ground, annoyed at yourself for feeling caught when he was the one who had been staring.

Fortunately a servant announced dinner was ready, and the group left the drawing room to partake in the meal. Dinner opened with a serving of white soup and the atmosphere was easy; even Jungkook relaxed now there was food to distract him from his own inhibitions.

Once again Mr. Jung proved himself a natural entertainer, speaking of his exploits in London. “I truly believe it is the arts that bring meaning to people’s lives. That is why I became involved,” he said with a beautiful smile, a calm timbre weaving through his voice while he spoke seriously of his passion. “It gives a voice to our inner self, allowing us to speak of what we fail to put into words. Like the music of our Yoongi here!”

The musician in question stiffened at the mention of his name, then made a soft hum of acknowledgement and brought another spoonful of soup to his mouth, leaving his response at that. However, the group did not allow him to eat in silence, their interest drawn by Mr. Jung’s remark.

“How long have you played the pianoforte, Mr. Min?” Seokjin Kim asked. “Professionally, I mean.”

Min swallowed slowly, ducking his head down. His eyes were almost lost under his dark hair, which he wore longer than deemed fashionable. “Not long,” he said, glancing at Mr. Jung and not elaborating further.

With an easy chuckle, Hoseok Jung picked up the thread of conversation that Min had dropped so carelessly. “I had to convince my friend here to share his performances with the public! If not for me, he would still be locked up inside his house.”

“And perhaps happier for it,” Min said in a stony voice.

You and Areum locked eyes at once, though she was less successful at keeping her face neutral. But Jung burst out laughing, a loud cackle that sounded through the dining room and defused any negative effect Min’s brusque comment might have had on the evening’s ambiance.

In the corner of your eyes you noticed your brother, whose eagerness to contribute had been building for a while now, his nerves calming and smile broadening. You turned back to your soup, your own lips curling upwards as well, pleased to see Jungkook on the verge of opening up.

Your joy proved short-lived.

“My sister has some fair skill on the pianoforte herself,” he said, and the corners of your mouth dropped before you could catch yourself. “She plays quite wonderfully!”

Jungkook. Your doting brother, the staunchest of your supporters and biggest champion (unless it concerned fencing). Any other day you would have been endeared by his belief in your talents, even the nonexistent ones, but today you had to make an exception.

Your skills were acceptable, and that was the kindest word on the subject you could spare without risking yourself delusional. One of your failings as a lady, and one you were painfully aware of.

“Jungkook, you flatter me,” you said with a small laugh. “That is higher praise than I deserve.”

Your words were not enough to repair the damage and you felt the eyes burning into you. The local branch of the Kim family smiled at your humility, too polite to say the words themselves, especially since they knew Jungkook would not be happy with them for it. Only Areum dared a raised eyebrow of scepticism, but the gesture went unnoticed.

However, their cousins had no way of knowing your words were not a display of false modesty. Namjoon and Taehyung Kim gave you looks of curiosity, taking Jungkook’s praise at face-value. Even worse; Min’s glum expression broke for the first time, an inquisitive glimmer in his dark eyes as he studied you with renewed interest. Sitting directly opposite of you, his attention was an unpleasant weight.

But Mr. Jung trumped them all, offering the suggestion you most dreaded. “Well, I would be remiss if I did not hear a performance,” he said, a geniality to him that assured you his request was honest with no ill-intent. “Who knows, I may have to sweep you off to London!”

The audacious words sent a burning flush through your already heated skin, your laugh growing ever fainted. “I fear London is too bold a stage for my limited abilities,” you said. “Besides, surely no one is interested in an amateur’s efforts when we have a professional among us.”

You gestured towards Mr. Min, catching his gaze. Imploring him to save you from embarrassment, you poured a silent plea into your smile. He looked back at you, a feline quality to his eyes—though his current expression brought to mind a grumpy tomcat rather than any sleek elegance.

“By that logic I would rarely have the opportunity to hear the playing of others,” he said, sullen.

“Ah, of course,” you acknowledged, shoulders slumping. There was nothing more you could do except praying for the party to forget about this particular conversation by the time dinner finished.

A lull settled over the table, the subject closed by Min’s statement. You continued to eat your soup, attempting to savour the veal broth but your efforts came up short. Namjoon Kim gave you a curious look from the seat next to you, then his face softened in a sympathetic smile. “Miss Jeon, I see your father is not with us today. Is everything well? I was looking forward to meeting him again.”

The change of subject loosened the knot in your chest. “Sadly, our father had to leave urgently to distant relations in Antwerp,” you explained. Only two days ago he had departed, after a pressing letter from your grand uncle that he was needed.

“I hope there are no health issues?”

“No, thankfully. There is business to attend to,” you said. “Our grand uncle is deeply involved in the stock market. I do not understand all the finer aspects of it, but father intends to return before the end of summer. I’m sure he will have the opportunity to explain it himself, if you are interested.”

“In the meanwhile, I am left in charge of the estate,” Jungkook interjected, and you heard a mixed jumble of pride and resentment in his voice. As pleased as your brother was to be entrusted with this responsibility, you knew he yearned for the opportunity to travel. However, the indignation was only subtle, soothed by the presence of new people right here in Southdon.

Various members of the party made suitably impressed noises, and Taehyung Kim questioned Jungkook about the grounds, specifically the fishing waters you had mentioned to him earlier. Conversation picked up again around you, and you gave Namjoon Kim a silent look of thanks for his smooth intervention. A slight nod in return, and then his attention turned to the topic at hand; organising an outing together to test out those waters. Seokjin Kim showed the most blatant enthusiasm but even Min eased into a small smile, a reminder of his supposed interest in fishing.

Basking in the obvious happiness of your brother, you calmed down and almost forgot about the earlier incident. Though you could not let it slip from memory entirely, not with Mr. Min casting persistent glances your way (much to your displeasure). You distracted yourself by regaling Namjoon Kim with stories about the town.

He burst into a dimpled laugh as you narrated how a flock of chickens once upset the Sunday sermon, when they had somehow gotten into the church and one laid an egg right on the pastor’s bible, another building a nest in the man’s hair. A tale from many years ago, though perhaps you should not be as fond of the recollection as you were, proof of your misbehaviour during that time of your life.

Of course, you left out the part about who was responsible to Mr. Kim, but you suspected he knew anyway. Father always blamed the lack of a maternal presence for your period of rebellion, but in time you settled down and matured into a proper lady.

Dinner continued to the next course, with such enjoyable conversation around the table that you entirely forgot about the looming threat waiting for you.

Hoseok Jung, the self-proclaimed patron of the arts, had not.

As the servants took away the final plates he pinned you with a slow smile, sparing no mercy. In his defence, he did not seem aware of the fact that you required such a thing. “Miss Jeon! Is now the time for you to grace us with a song?”

With no means to decline without risking insult, you supposed it was. Though ‘grace’ would not be the word of your choice. You nodded in agreement and could only hope your smile did not show the strain behind it.

Ever the excellent host, Seokjin Kim led his guests back to the drawing room. Usually his wife would be the one who played to entertain guests; Doyeon was far more musically accomplished than you. She gently touched your arm as she passed by, though you did not know whether it was intended as encouragement or sympathy. Under other circumstances she may have tried to take your place, but both of you knew Jungkook would take heavy offence.

All too aware of the eyes on you, you took place behind the pianoforte. It was a beautiful instrument, purchased only last year as a gift to Doyeon from her husband. You rifled through the music sheets and quickly found a sonata by Haydn you felt reasonably confident of. The others spread through the room, making themselves comfortable on sofas or by the window or, in Min’s case, standing by the bookcase behind the pianoforte.

You felt a stab of unease at his presence behind you but ignored him best you could. Bolstered by the proud shine on Jungkook’s face, you pressed your fingers to the keys. You focused on the music, fooling yourself into believing your brother was the only other person in the room. When he listened he did not hear mistakes, only creative improvisations.

And today, you very much appreciated to be indulged.

Music filled the drawing room as you made your way through the movements, starting off with a brisk allegro. You needed a few measures to hit your stride, but by the time you reached the minuet you found a sliver of peace deep inside you and latched onto it. Then, the third and fourth movements followed easier than you had anticipated. Not your worst performance, you reflected as you returned to one final allegro, building to the last crescendo—and then it was done.

Your fingers hovered over the keys as the climactic notes faded in the air, and you took a deep breath before lifting your eyes from the paper to face your audience.

A polite applause greeted you. As predictable as ever, Jungkook beamed at you as though you had just given a spectacular concert, but what truly warmed your heart was the appreciative smile of Doyeon Kim, an acknowledgement of your efforts. The performance had been… acceptable.

“Mm.”

You froze at the sound from behind you, far closer than anticipated. Quickly you recovered, smoothing a hand over your high-waisted dress as you nodded at your audience in thanks.

“That was excellent!” Jungkook said, then turned to the man standing just behind you. “Mr. Min, what did you think?” He smiled expectantly at the professional pianist, clearly anticipating a raving review. Your smile was more rueful, sympathising with Min for being forced in a position where he, if not outright lie, at least had to tip-toe around the truth.

Mr. Min sucked in a breath and when your eyes locked, his dark gaze caused a swelling of vulnerability deep inside you, invasive and unwelcome. “Your left hand is not as quick as your right,” he said. “It would help to first practise with just your left until you’ve mastered the part, then play with both hands.”

Any relief you might have felt at making it through your performance unscathed was cruelly doused by the sharp chill of humiliation. Your neck burned with a cold heat, creeping further to your cheeks.

Silence fell in the drawing room.

Decorum broken, you stared at Mr. Min, incapable of ripping your eyes away. His brow furrowed until he broke the contact himself, turning his head to the side. “Of course,” he said stiffly, “otherwise you played well.”

In the corner of your vision you saw Jungkook, his chest puffing up and a dangerous intensity drawing over his face. Wordlessly you begged him to remain quiet and not cause a scene, but a saviour presented himself before Jungkook could formulate a response.

Seokjin Kim clapped his hands together and let out a buoyant laugh. “How about we enjoy a glass of port, gentlemen? Come, come,” he said, putting his hands firmly on Jungkook’s shoulder as he led the young man back to the dining room with clear deliberation. “Let the ladies catch up on their gossip!”

Perhaps you were mistaken, but Mr. Jung gave you an apologetic look as he followed the others. They left you with Mrs. and Miss Kim, who rushed to assure you of how well you played. But, you thought bitterly, only by your standards.

Not by Mr. Min’s.

“And did you know he has seen a hot air balloon ascension?” Jungkook said to whoever would listen. On this particular day, that meant you and Jimin Park. “Mr. Kim has been studying technical drawings of them as well. Is he not amazing!”

Park, Jungkook’s lifelong friend and neighbour, looked at him with an indulgent smile. His light brown hair shone in the soft sunlight that fell into the parlour, cheeks lifted into an affectionate grin. You could still see the shadow behind his face of the adorable boy you used to know, but there was no denying Park had grown up into a beautiful young man.

“I look forward to meeting him at Miss Kim’s ball,” Park said, and you caught a pinch of jealousy at tomorrow’s planned fishing expedition, though not explicit enough for Jungkook to notice.

A blunder on Park’s part; Jungkook was the host for this outing and well within his rights to invite others, something he would do happily if he thought Park was interested. But fishing had never been a passion of his, only partaking when Jungkook forcibly dragged him along. If anything, your brother would believe he was doing Park a favour by leaving him out.

You looked up from your book, quietly developing a strategy. “What a shame though, that is still two weeks from now,” you said carefully.

Park’s lips parted, frozen in a response, then curled up as he recognised your efforts. “A shame indeed. Only so many weeks in a summer, then they’ll be back in London.”

“And Taehyung Kim is of an age with you! It would be lovely if you had the opportunity to meet sooner.” You chanced a look at Jungkook and felt a surge of triumph at his expression.

Rubbing a fingertip at his temple, cogs turning behind his eyes. “Oh, Jimin! What if you join us tomorrow?” he said, a wide smile bursting across his face. “You do not care for fishing, I know, but the company will make up for it!”

“That is so thoughtful,” Park said sweetly. “I will gladly take you up on that offer.”

“I do have to warn you,” Jungkook said, his expression souring, “Min will also be joining us. I saw no way to exclude him.”

You would never admit it, but part of you was thankful for the bite to Jungkook’s voice—though another part of you was flustered at his protectiveness. It had been a humiliating experience, one you’d rather forget, and so far Mr. Min had made no efforts to make repairs. The other Londoners had been sociable enough; the Kims had joined you and your brother when you crossed paths on a morning walk and Mr. Jung had happily chatted with you after church. Meanwhile, Mr. Min had utterly ignored you.

It was enough to convince you he did not care about the effect his impropriety had on you, which spoke ill of his character indeed. You struggled to understand why Mr. Namjoon Kim and the others associated themselves with such a man, but perhaps they simply were kind to him for the sake of Mr. Jung or so impressed by his musical skills.

“That is fine,” Park said, his eyes twinkling. “I must admit, I have become rather curious about him.”

Jungkook sniffed dismissively and instead returned to the subject of Namjoon Kim and his many exploits.

Park stayed all through dinner and joined you for a round of cards afterwards. As always the stakes became somewhat heated, nobody willing to walk away the loser. Jungkook looked at his hand with an insufferable quirk to his lips, confidence glimmering in his eyes.

“I propose I deal the next round,” Park said tightly, lifting an elegant eyebrow.

Smile turning dangerous, Jungkook cocked his head. “What do you mean to imply?”

“Oh, I imply nothing!”

“Good,” Jungkook said, “because unlike some, I do not resort to foul play to win. I don’t have to.”

You peeked over your cards to watch their bickering, already formulating a plan on how to best use this to your advantage. The more they riled one another up, the better your odds at taking away the victory.

Park bristled at the accusation. “Years of friendship, and this is how you treat me?” he sputtered, eyes wide.

“He treats you in the way your game tactics call for,” you said, hiding a playful smile behind your cards.

Park gave you a stricken look that spoke of the deep stab of betrayal you had just inflicted on him. But before he had the chance to respond, you were interrupted by your steward.

“Mr. Jeon, I am sorry to bother you, but could I have a moment of your time?” he said, ever polite. Jungkook excused himself and let the steward pull him away. Your eyes followed them, wondering what was important enough that it could not wait. However, your steward did not look particularly alarmed which assuaged most of your worries.

When you turned back to Park he was smiling at you, all belligerence of the game faded away. “Thank you,” he said, “for your assistance earlier.”

You chuckled, putting down your cards. “You are very welcome. I could not resign you to a fate of not meeting the Kims and Mr. Jung until the ball.”

“Ah, the ball…” he mused, drawing his thumb over his lip as his eyes twinkled at you. “I do hope I still hold the right to your first dance even with these fascinating newcomers around.”

“Of course you do!” you assured with a laugh. “I would not have it any other way.”

“Good.” The way his smile transformed his eyes into crescents was almost enough to make you forget about his fraudulent tendencies while playing cards.

“It truly is a mystery to me!” you exclaimed, struggling to keep your composure.

Areum was all sympathy, patting the arm you had looped around hers while she accompanied you on your morning walk. The touch of soft cotton was a slim comfort, but it assured you at least one person remained on your side.

For just a few short days your brother staunchly supported your dislike of Mr. Min, to the point that it embarrassed you at times! But hindsight made you appreciative of even those moments, now that they were lost to you.

One outing of the gentlemen together and Jungkook had changed his mind on the matter entirely. One single outing! Ever since then he tried to persuade you of the man’s intelligence, of his sense of humour. The latter had you convinced this was all part of some elaborate joke Jungkook was playing on you, though you did not understand what his endgame might be.

“I do not wish to speak ill of your brother,” Areum said, on the cusp of speaking ill of your brother, “but perhaps he simply lacks a certain sensitivity. It is easy for men among themselves to forget the wrongs they have inflicted on us.”

You smiled at Areum’s loyalty; you knew how partial she was to your brother, but she did not hesitate to choose a side. “Or Jungkook is simply having a laugh with me,” you said. “If Mr. Min truly is the man described to me, he would have apologised for his behaviour, but he has not even deigned to deliver a letter.”

Areum let out a deep sigh. “Seokjin also spoke of his thoughtfulness, it is baffling. Perhaps Mr. Min is just the sort of man who only gets along with other gentlemen. Oh!”

Her face lit up as she spotted something in the distance. You followed her gaze and saw a trio approaching you through the fields by horse, and even from this distance they were easy to recognise.

Jungkook and his two companions all looked in high spirits as they drew near, laughing brightly. Perhaps it was because they were so close of an age, but the three had become quite taken with one another. Areum’s smile gained a smug edge, satisfied to know her prediction had come true.

As for you, the sight of them getting along so amicably warmed your heart. Jungkook had truly come out of his shell around the youngest Kim, his efforts rewarded with what would surely become a treasured friendship.

“Good morning, Miss Jeon, Areum!” Taehyung Kim was the first one to call out to you.

They came to a halt near you and Areum, each astride an impressive Thoroughbred; the pride of the Park family’s stables. Greetings were exchanged, and Jungkook enquired after the well-being of Areum. She launched into an animated explanation of her newest ideas for the supper to be served at her event, staring up at Jungkook with a brilliant smile.

You bit your lip to hold back your amusement, but failed when Park sighed. His eyebrow quirked up at you, then he chuckled and shook his head. He liked Areum well enough, but once she got started on any given topic… You hoped they had no pressing matters to attend to.

However, Jungkook clearly did not mind. He asked in depth about her meal plans, though his focus lay with her choice of meats.

Taehyung Kim observed the conversation with interest, his head cocked to the side. “Do you think there will be strawberries?” he mumbled, more to himself than anything else. Then he blinked, as though to snap himself back into reality, and turned to you. “Did you enjoy the mackerel, Miss Jeon?”

The sudden change of subject threw you, and you needed a moment to realise what he meant. “Oh! Yes, yes very much,” you said. Freshly caught and prepared by your skilled cook, it had made for a delicious meal.

“Min caught it, did you know?” he said, his smile proud as though he had been personally responsible.

But your smile turned sour. Ah. Min again. “Yes, Jungkook mentioned it.”

Kim beamed at you. “He caught two, while Jeon had no luck at all so he was generous enough to share.”

Was there some conspiracy afoot? Had the universe turned itself against you, when all around you everyone sung the praises of Yoongi Min’s kindness while he showed you none? “Yes, very generous of him,” you said with as much warmth as you could muster.

It seemed to satisfy Kim, and you quickly took advantage of a lull in the conversation to close off this particular topic. “Areum, I am starting to feel peckish,” you said gently. “Would you like to join me for breakfast back at the house?”

Areum hesitated but she recognised something in your expression and nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course. Gentlemen, we’ll leave you be,” she said with a light bow. Everyone said their goodbyes, then you parted ways with the trio. Areum was more than happy to continue her chatter about the ball preparations to you, and in turn you let yourself be distracted by her planning.

As agreed she joined you for breakfast and you savoured the light-hearted banter as much as the fresh apricot jam. But eventually it was time for her to return home and you sent her on her way, insisting she take your carriage.

And then, Aberton Hall suddenly was far too quiet.

With Jungkook still absent, you made your way to the drawing room. There was something you had been putting off these past few days, and you needed to confront it. You were childish to avoid it for so long, while you believed yourself to have outgrown that particular trait. So now it was time to deliver proof.

Inside the drawing room, the pianoforte waited for you.

The instrument stared you down, but you stared right back at its black-and-white keys. One deep breath, and you sat down on the stool, rolling your wrists and stretching your fingers to prepare them for practise. Face steeled with focus, you ran through your warm-up exercises.

Despite your lack of natural talent, you always found the routine calming, the habitual rhythms and passages a place of solace that emptied your mind of distractions and discomforts. And so you felt ready to continue onto the next step after you finished.

A familiar sonata rested on the music desk.

You refused to let one memory—one man—spoil your enjoyment of this piece. You refused!

Yet, your hands hesitated above the keys. His words, his criticism, topped off by his disingenuous compliment; the faint ghost of their memory sang through you. Your expression hardened and you took another deep breath, then placed only your left hand on the keys and began to play. A strange sense of spite had taken hold of you, as though mastery of this piece would somehow deflect your feelings of embarrassment back onto Mr. Min. That it would prove him wrong.

By the time Jungkook returned to the estate you were still practising, but he must have discerned your state of mind, for he uncharacteristically made no comment.

Finally, the day of the ball arrived.

Wanting to look your best for Areum’s event, you put in every effort. You wore a sheer gown of cotton gauze, a satin petticoat underneath. Aiming for fashionable simplicity, the dress was white with beautiful embroidery forming a delicate trimming of leaves, while a ribbon tied around the waistline brought an accent of Pomona green to the ensemble. Your high waist was contrasted by a low neckline, the occasion allowing for such exposure of skin. It showed off the necklace of small pearls you wore, a fond memento of your mother.

The maid helped you prepare, carefully fixing a pearl ornament in your hair that complimented the necklace, and she buttoned up your long evening gloves. Together you finished in good time, so in the end it was you who had to wait for Jungkook, struggling to decide on the manner to tie his cravat.

You took the carriage to Seokjin Kim’s country house; a ball was one of the few occasions you would bother to do so. Already a significant crowd had gathered, filling up the splendorous home, and Areum stood absolutely radiant in the center of it all, relishing her role as hostess.

“Miss Jeon!” she greeted you eagerly, taking your hands in her own. “I am so happy to see you, we will start the first dance soon. I would not have you miss it.”

At her words your eyes instinctively darted through the crowd for Park, though you could not find him at first glance. A string quartet played a lively tune, lifting up the ambiance even further, and you saw people making introductions and socialising.

Instead of Park, you found Mr. Namjoon Kim. He looked as smart as ever in a charcoal tailcoat with a green vest underneath. The dimples in his cheeks greeted you before he did as he disentangled himself from a conversation with Mrs. Lee and came over to you and Areum. “Miss Jeon, might I have the honour of your first dance?” he asked after a light bow, a cheery gleam to his eyes.

“Ah, Mr. Kim, I am afraid my first is spoken for,” you declined him with regret.

“Well then,” he said, “I shall have to wait for your second!”

You smiled at the ease of his recovery. “And I shall look forward to it,” you assured him, but let out a soft ‘oh’ when you finally located Jimin Park. Kim followed your line of sight and chuckled, then excused himself, presumably to find an available dance partner.

The bustle of people meant that Park needed some time to wade through them to reach you. Meanwhile you spotted the other newcomers, taking up much of the attention with people eager to be introduced to them. Hoseok Jung thrived in this environment, his smile brightening up the assembly room, but even he could not disperse the gloomy fog that surrounded Mr. Min, who shifted on his feet beside the sociable patron. Taehyung Kim had been captured by Mrs. Lee and her daughters, but appeared to handle the situation with grace.

Then Park stood in front of you, bowing while you curtsied, though he went through the formality with a playful slant to his lips. His eyes flickered to Areum, who strode to the center of the dance floor with Jung Hoseok by her side, then back to you.

“Are you ready, my lady?” Park winked, offering you his hand.

“For you? Never,” you teased, but allowed him to take you to the dance floor.

Other couples followed, including Seokjin Kim and his wife. Doyeon’s marital status meant she outranked Areum, but Areum’s position as hostess gave her the honour of leading the first dance. She could not have chosen a better partner; Mr. Jung proved to be one of the best dancers you ever had the pleasure of seeing. Effortlessly he glided over the floor, taking Areum with him in his wake. You and Park followed their lead, as did the other couples. The slow minuet allowed for conversation with relative ease, a fact you gladly took advantage of.

“It truly makes me happy to see you and Jungkook get along so well with Mr. Kim,” you said, moving gracefully through the sequence.

An accomplished dancer in his own right, Park accompanied you with poise and finesse. He smiled at your words. “Kim is a good man,” he said. “I’d say I was lucky to have met him, but then I’d be selling you short.”

You laughed in response. “And now you give me too much credit, Park! At the most I moved up your meeting by a few days.”

Though his smile stayed in place, something of the cheer faded from his eyes, leaving you to wonder what you had said wrong. He saw your confusion and sighed, shaking his head. A partner-switch temporarily broke you apart, but you kept your eyes on Park while you danced with Mr. Lee.

“I apologise,” he said once you were reunited. “It’s just… sometimes I forget you don’t call me by my given name any more.”

“No,” you said with a weak chuckle, no less confused, “not since we were little.”

Back when you were children. Back when Park took care of your brother even though he was only two years older; still a child himself but wanting to be there for the boy who lost his mother. Jungkook had been too young to truly understand what it all meant, but Park did.

You swallowed thickly, a sudden gratefulness swelling up from deep inside you.

And while your smile faltered, Park’s returned in full force. “I suppose I’m simply not used to your devotion to propriety these days.” He let out a soft giggle. “Not when I remember how you snuck frogs into my bed.”

“You deserved that,” you said pointedly, lifting your chin in a huff, but then you sighed, the breath filled with nostalgia. “I had to grow up sometime.”

“Hm,” he mused, “but at least you still remember how to hold a grudge. It is reassuring to know some things never change.”

The words came with a teasing lilt, but you could swear they physically struck you, causing you to almost trip when the dance called for another switch. Mr. Lee must have thought you a dreadful dance partner, so distracted by Park’s comment.

Was he implying you were too hard on Mr. Min? That you had to give him a second chance without any apology at all? You had not even spoken to the man since that first dinner together, a direct result of his avoidance of you.

Park was quick to see how his remark had affected you when you returned to his side. A rueful smile tugged at his lips and he squeezed your hand as you circled around each other. “Don’t pay me any mind,” he said. “Clearly I have turned into an old man already, sentimental about my wasted youth.”

You laughed at his dramatic statement. “Don’t even say that! You are younger than me,” you pointed out. “What does that make me then?”

“An elderly spinster,” he grinned, relishing your affronted gasp.

The moment of discomfort had passed, and you relaxed into the rest of the dance. When the song ended, it was with some reluctance that you and Park parted ways—until you remembered your promise to Namjoon Kim.

The gentleman waited with crinkled eyes as he smiled at you, and he led you into a faster paced reel. Joined by Jungkook and Areum, you laughed often as the dance took you through interlacing figures and sequences of complicated footwork.

As the dance ended, you were both elated and in desperate need of catching your breath. Mr. Kim brought you back into the crowd, where he left you with Doyeon and went to look for a new partner himself. She gave you a knowing smile; Doyeon had a talent for making you feel as though she was aware of your every secret.

“How are you tonight, Miss Jeon?”

You wondered how much Areum had relayed to her about your grievances, but when Doyeon’s gaze drifted over to the new figure approaching you, a meaningful look in her eyes, you wondered no longer.

Mr. Min joined you, though by the look of him you would think he was only here under threat of death. He hesitated, then bowed lightly. You and Doyeon curtsied in response, exchanging a glance when Min stood before you, chewing on the inside of his cheek and glancing off to the side.

Was he trying to swallow his pride, finally using this opportunity to make amends? You had been waiting for him to do so, of course, but surely this was not the right occasion?

“I hope you are well, Mr. Min,” Doyeon said, and you were grateful at least one of you still remembered her manners. The man truly unbalanced you.

“Ah, yes,” he said, his eyes flickering up for just a second. “Very well, thank you.”

“Don’t you think the music is excellent tonight? Areum worked hard to procure the services of this quartet,” she pressed on after a moment of clumsy silence. You couldn’t help but feel for her, trapped in the uncomfortable pressure between you and Mr. Min.

He nodded slowly, as though he needed a moment to process her words. “They are very good. Miss Kim should be proud of her efforts,” Min said, and finally his eyes met yours properly. For one brief moment, you were struck by the absurd notion he was about to ask you for a dance. Then he shook his head, and the moment passed. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kim, Miss Jeon, you have to excuse me.”

His departure as sudden and awkward as his entrance, Mr. Min was gone.

“What… what just happened?” you asked Doyeon, but almost immediately another abrupt arrival interrupted your conversation.

Mr. Jung swept in with a cheerful greeting, the unexpectedness of his appearance the only similarity to Min’s clumsy manners. “Miss Jeon, may I be so bold as to ask you for your next dance?”

Though he caught you off guard, you still agreed gladly; his opening dance with Areum made you eager to have him as your partner. He provided easy conversation until the next set began, while Seokjin Kim came over to invite his wife to a round of whist. You pitied their poor opponents, their combined skill at cards left not many who stood a chance to beat them. A lethal couple indeed. You had no time to consider them for long though, because Mr. Jung led you to the dance floor with a charming smile.

To your own surprise, you found yourself fighting off a spot of nerves. Until now you had only talked to Mr. Jung in a group setting, and his undivided attention proved to be intimidating. However, you liked to think your heart was not so faint, and thus you smiled back at him as you took position for the dance.

It all started so well.

Mr. Jung delivered to your every expectation, floating over the dance floor with a grace that seemed contagious. Just a light touch of his hand was enough to lead you through the sequences with confidence and you felt like you were dancing on a cloud.

“So, I noticed Yoongi came to talk to you,” Mr. Jung said, and the cloud rained away from underneath you.

“I am not certain ‘talk’ is the appropriate word.”

He hummed. “I do hope my friend has not continued to make a bad impression on you,” he said, his tone playful but a glimmer of solemnity behind his eyes. “I’m sure I speak for him when I assure you he meant no offence.”

It occurred to you that perhaps Jung only asked you to dance because he saw your exchange with Mr. Min. If anything, you had to admire his loyalty. You sighed, thinking back on Yoongi Min’s clear discomfort. Something resembling a pinch of sympathy edged at your thoughts and you sought him out in the crowd. You found him conversing with Namjoon Kim, near the tables set up for cards.

He looked placid now, clearly favouring Mr. Kim’s companionship over yours. Then the latter whispered something to him and Min broke out in a laugh, the smile transforming his face. It highlighted just how soft his features actually were, and even from this distance you saw a hint of his gums, the sight strangely endearing.

Your mood soured at once.

“Yoongi would not have answered your brother’s question so honestly unless he esteemed you,” Jung said, taking your continued silence as a signal to persist. He did not sound unkind.

But the damage had been done.

“I do not mean to discredit your insights of Mr. Min,” you said, bitterness clinging to your tongue, “but I am decently sure of his esteem for me, and it is none.”

The final drop had spilled. You had grown weary of people’s insistence to defend the qualities of Mr. Min. Qualities he surely had (to accuse so many of your friends and acquaintances of lying would be unseemly), but deigned not to show you. If everyone else spoke of his kindness, and everyone else was granted his good humours, then his problem lay with you and you could think of nothing you had done to wrong him.

In this moment, more than ever, you felt justified to hold onto your resentment of Mr. Min.

Clearly Mr. Jung sensed he should drop the issue, focusing on the dance instead. You regretted disagreeing so openly with him, but a sudden exhaustion took hold of you and it took all your concentration just to keep up with the steps. After the dance finished, Jung moved on and you had a quiet moment to consider your words. You sighed and smoothed out your dress, fighting the urge to bite your lip.

As loathe as you were to admit it, Park had the truth of it when he said you still knew how to hold a grudge.

The following morning you immediately wrote a thank you note to Areum, showing your gratitude for her hospitality as proper. A routine task, yet you found your thoughts so scattered that the letter took far longer to finish than expected. After finally closing the envelope and handing it over to a servant, you considered taking a walk to clear your head. Except the idea of being outside, where you could possibly encounter other people, it wrapped around your chest in a rigid tightness, constricting your breath like a poorly fitted corset.

After your dance Mr. Jung had left you in decidedly cooler spirits than he had approached you, and you felt the sting of embarrassment over your behaviour. At the very least you could have pretended to humour his attempt at bridging the gap between you and his friend.

You took a walk around the drawing room with your maid but it failed miserably as a distraction. You tried a book of poetry, but the text swam in your vision, reading words without ever comprehending them. For a moment you entertained the idea of seeking out Jungkook for a bout of fencing, but your desire to isolate yourself won out.

In the end you winded up behind the pianoforte, fingers brushing over the keys without pressing down.

You sighed, the irony not lost on you that the one activity you associated with Mr. Min provided your best chance of forgetting about him. And indeed, the comfortable routine of your warm-up practise helped you find a quiet space inside your head. By the time you had gone through them, you did not hesitate to go through Haydn’s sonata again, a test performance with both hands.

Diligently you had been practising with just your left, and though perhaps your own opinion was not the most impartial, you thought yourself much improved. The hours of rehearsal were paying themselves back; you would never be an effortless virtuoso, but your execution of the first two movements approached the level of a performance more than acceptable. Perhaps even decent.

To your frustration, you caught yourself blundering during the slower andante, little mistakes slipping past you as you struggled to coordinate your hands. With a deep sigh you stopped, gathered yourself, then returned to the part where your trouble began and went back to using only your left hand.

Patience, you told yourself. Patience was all you needed. Patience… or perhaps obstinacy. That was a trait you had plenty of, and its power had always gotten you very far. You played through the andante with deliberation, repeating every part where you faltered. But eventually you reached the end of the movement, finishing with a satisfied smile.

The piercing sound of a lonely applause suddenly rang through the drawing room.

You startled, but only for a second. This was not an uncommon occurrence; Jungkook enjoyed quietly slipping inside to listen to you play, unaware of an audience other than your personal attendant. “Jungkook, I didn’t hear you co—” you said as you turned around, then froze again when you saw not one, but two spectators.

Jungkook, as expected… and Mr. Min.

His dark eyes studied you carefully, something undecipherable in his gaze. If you were not careful you would be trapped by him, that you knew for certain. You quickly averted your eyes, your attention drawn to the envelope in his hand.

“You sounded great today,” Jungkook complimented, then patted Mr. Min on the shoulder. “Min has some business with you, so I will leave you be.”

Before you had the chance to think of an excuse to keep him in the room, Jungkook was gone. Fortunately your lady’s maid stayed in attendance, saving you from scandal, but even so you still felt abandoned.

Mr. Min cleared his throat, tugging at his cravat before he spoke.

“It is good to see you again, Miss Jeon,” he said with a light bow, awkward, and you quickly stood up to curtsy in return. “I’m afraid I created a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?”

He nodded, stepping further into the room until he hesitated and came to a halt.

“Oh, please sit!” you invited him, remembering your manners, but he shook his head and remained standing in the middle of the drawing room.

“I was, uh, I came here to deliver this letter but your brother insisted I talked to you in person,” Min said, scratching his cheek. “He is a very persuasive young man.”

Despite your discomfort, your smile was genuine. “That he is.”

“But what I am here for…” he said, then trailed off for a second, as though trying to arrange the words in his head. Clearly he had not expected to be speaking to you. “Hoseok led me to understand you believe I have no esteem for you.”

You winced, having not expected Mr. Jung to be so frank with Min about your conversation. “I apologise, I—”

The words slipped out before you fully realised what you were saying, and you would have been annoyed at the fact you were apologising to Mr. Min if not for the hand he held up to stop you. “No,” he said firmly. “I am the one who should apologise. I should never have spoken so bluntly to you at Mr. Kim’s.”

Your hands clutched at your dress, restless as you tried to process the situation. This was a good thing, was it not? Why the sudden knot in your stomach?

“Then I aggravated the situation by not making amends at once. I thought…” He hummed lowly, lips drawn in a tight line. “I thought it better to keep my distance from you, to spare—”

He interrupted himself, looking away for a moment, then met your eyes again with a steady gaze.

“No, that was not honest of me,” Min said, frowning. “I did think you would prefer to avoid my company, but I was also embarrassed by my mistake. I will not make excuses for that. So instead… I apologise for any hurt I have caused you, and wish you to know that I do, in fact, esteem you. Highly.”

His eyes flickered to your maid, who stood just behind you, as though only now remembering you were not actually alone. It took you a moment to realise he had finished speaking, waiting for your response, and you stammered clumsily.

“I— Thank you, Mr. Min,” you said, ducking your head. “I appreciate your visit, truly.”

The platitude was an inadequate response to his words, but you could not muster any more.

Mr. Min chewed the inside of his cheek, nodding as though you had said something more profound. “Thank you for hearing me out, Miss. I will leave you be,” he said, and began to turn away. Just as he stood at the door opening he paused, and looked at you over his shoulder with a pensive smile. “I hope this is not out of line, but you made some remarkable progress. Quite impressive.”

Then he was gone, leaving you to wonder just how long he and Jungkook had been listening to you play.

Something heavy weighed down on you, your hands digging into the fabric of your dress. You finally had the apology you so wanted, that you deserved.

So why did you feel so burdened?

It was not until much later that you realised he never gave you the letter.

→ pt. 2 💕

Mystery Inc. but it’s the 1890s

Who had late Victorian Scooby Doo on their 2024 bingo card? Hmm?

The idea came to me when I was thinking about Sherlock Holmes and then remembered the iconic mystery solving gang hehe

Love Revocation

Pairing: ImperialGuard!JungHoseok x Princess!Reader

Premise: Only your brothers would be willing to step in and try to change your future. But history isn't easy to overcome, even if it is all but forgotten.

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: I've been watching a lot of historical k-dramas and c-dramas lately, and I can say it's an addiction at this point! If you have any favourites feel free to share! I'd love to watch your recommendations as well as talk about any mutual ones we love!

masterlist

One foot infront of the other, the crisp air of the afternoon breeze through your robes and hair, the light chatter of people in the market; it all gave you a bittersweet taste of Deja vu. Times like these felt right, but you had the feeling that nothing looked as it should. It could be the small taste of freedom mixed with the claustrophobic fear being chained somewhere. However, where the other end of the chain was you didn’t know. Or you did once, but it was lost with the rest of your memories from all those years ago. 

You stopped trying to remember after the first two season changes, then you accepted your circumstances and adjusted yourself to where you were. 

Arms full, you smile gracefully at the passing merchants and village people, the ones bowing at you when recognization transpired. You all but skip down the back path heading towards the palace again. 

You promised mother you’d finish her painting of the place father asked for her hand today. You had beeen working on it for her birthday, but you were too excited to wait. So it may have been promised 2 weeks earlier then her day.

However, a shroud voice catches your attention before you make it to the next corner. You stop in your tracks to listen. If living in the palace taught you anything it was ‘to always know the concerns of your people’, were fathers exact words. In otherwords you took it as a sign that it was ok, in most situations to eavesdrop… at least a little. 

“She is being forced to marry the oldest son of the emperor and empress. Her bloodline will muddy just as theirs already is.” A sinik male voice mocked. 

“What do you mean by that?” You heard your brothers fiance ask. She was a headstrong woman. Not only that but she was radiant. The type of woman your brother deserved. 

“Everyone knows the young lady is unfavoured by the gods. So if you bear a child with him your children will be inflicted with the same inability.” This time a female voice chimed in. Just as distasteful as the males.

“The princess is kind, witty, social, politically intelligent, well read, impactful, understanding and unworldly beautiful. Our children will be blessed to have her as their aunt.” Tayla lists, you smile to yourself. She didn’t have to defend your honour so seriosuly, but you silently thanked her none the less. 

“You have your doubts. There is no way you do not feel some worry about tarnishing your family name. Its reputation will be dragged through the land if your children fail to develope as she has. They will be cursed as she is.” 

Anyone talking about your family members however, you just couldn’t let it slide so easily.

“My brothers children will develop into the strongest blood line of these past 1000 years, we are in no need of your concern.” You step in, rounding the corner of the building. Your voice and demeanour remain calm, a smile on your lips as your mother had taught you when it came to political arguments. Remaing calm when the opposing side could not, as strategy she had learned in her youth.

What others said about you didn’t really bother you anymore. As a young child you always felt the sting of their harsh words. Like they were hoping you’d choke on them. But it had the opposite affect. It only drove you to try harder, to learn the ways of the palace. To push yourself past the limits that this life had given you. 

“My lady!” Many courteous greetings are followed by formal bows. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I was out for a walk through the village to get a few supplies.” Holding up the items in your hands, you sidle up to your future sister in law. Taking a step between her and the small circle of ill intended pupils.

“We didn’t mean anything by it. We were just worried she hadn’t thought it through. Or raised concerns” One of the young males spoke quickly. You stifle a scoff, but continue to maintain your composure.

“I’m sure you are.” You eye him carefully, if you weren’t mistaken he was one of the many candidates who wanted Tayla’s hand in marriage. “However as I am not my mother and fathers birth daughter, you’ll be happy to know my genes will die with me.” 

“You are not the child of the Emporer and Empress?” The small crowd gasps in unison. You could laugh at how comical their faces became. 

Even so, amongst the mumbling in front of you there is a faint call from behind you, you turn to her.

“Mother and Father saved me when I was young. Knowing I could not cultivate nor could remember where I had come from or how I ended up where they found me, they showed compassion and mercy upon taking me in and raising me with their children.” You explain to her alone. “I am blessed beyond measure. And your children will hold the greatest of titles. ”

--------

A few days had past since your unexpenctant, informal announcement of your lineage. A very important matter had taken your attention, so you had all but forgotten already. You hear frantic footsteps approach your room. You brace your mind for the inevitable impact that would be your brothers. Your hand doesn’t still as it continues to write on the parchment of your lessons from today. Your doors burst wide open, not bothering to look up at them.

“Are you really planning to take the tether serum?” Your youngest brother demands breathlessly. 

“You’re here earlier then I expected, I am almost surprised.” You smile to yourself. If you had placed money on them discovering your plans, it would not have been until at least a week had past.

“Don’t make light of this.” Your eldest brother scolds from the rear, coming up behind your younger brother, closing the doors to conceal your conversation.

“Why would you make such a thing?” Taehyung's bewilderment is something you had became accustomed to. He somehow always seemed shocked by your actions. Considering how long you had been in the family now, you would have thought he had understood you at least a little.

You let out a deep sigh, the air from your lungs feels cold as it leaves your body into the warm air. 

“I want to be of use to mother and father in the end. Is that so outrageous as to incur your unmistakable wrath?” You choose your words carefully, not wanting to sadden them with todays ongoings but at the same time you know Seokjin’s fiance has already informed him of the other day. 

“We both understand greatly how indebted you feel towards them, but to tether your lifeline to them as someone still young is unheard of.” Seokjin reasons, still standing in the middle of the room, you can see his robes out of your peripheral. Taehyung sits down in the place next to you, trying to get your attention.

“Elder brother is right. If they both pass then so shall you, your soul cannot be separated. You shall serve them into death and upon new life.” His tone turning sorrowful. 

This time you look up at him, then towards your elder. 

“My dear brothers, It’s no secret that no one would marry me before and now with my birth being admitted, I have somehow lost whatever leverage I may have had.”

“That’s not true.” You see the hurt in the youngers eyes, but what you've said is true. You all know it. You give him a sad smile, letting your hand drop the brush, and placing it over his on the table.

“I cannot cultivate. I have no sense of magic or any prowess. My soul has been deemed weak and now people know that I am not the Emperor and Empress' true daughter.” You direct your smile towards Seokjin. “I have been preparing myself for this outcome since we were young. Please, if you cannot understand me then at least accept that this is your sisters wish.”

--------

“The last time the two of you bowed this deeply to us was when you were young children and you and our son had broken a priceless family heirloom while you were training in the halls.” The Emperors longest friend muses from his seat. Him and his wife had known your parents since they were young, they were as close as family. Including their son, who happened to be the same age as you. So all four of you had grown up together.

“Uncle. Auntie. We are here to request an inordinate favour from you. One we know may be impossible for you to agree to, but we must ask this of you.” Seokjin’s whole body is tense. Everything he can do to save you from tethering yourself is hanging on this outcome. 

“What is it?” Your aunt is more curious then worried by their request. Seeing them kneel before them was a shock bigger then they had ever expected. 

Your brothers sit up straight.

“Our sister. As you know she is unable to cultivate. She has no skill in combat. Many have deemed her unworthy to bear our family name.” Seokjin’s voice comes out strong, but his hands are trembling slightly. “However, as you also know. Our sister is competent in the kitchen, and with chores of the home. She is patient and nurturing when she takes care of the palaces many children. She has beautiful skills in the way of art and embroidery. She is generous beyond measure and courteous to others. She deserves to have a future.”

“We both agree. She is a diamond amongst pebbles. But what brings this tone of concern?” Uncle is concerned.

“Our sister has decided to take the tether serum and serve our parents.” Taehyung explains. “We do not know if you have heard the word circling about our sister not being of our blood. But we are here to confirm it. Our parents took her in when I was newly born, she is all I’ve known to be an older sister.”

“We are aware of the talk. We were also there the day your parents found the young lady.” The Uncle assures. “You do not need to worry about our thoughts towards the princess.”

“I am curious to this favour. What do you wish to ask for?” Auntie pushes. 

“Our sister wishes to tether herself for she believes no one will marry her.” Seokjin explains. They bow again in unison, as if they had practiced their movements and speech before appearing. “We ask of you to please propose a marriage contract to the Emporer and Empress between our sister and your son.”

Taehyung cuts in quickly before they can be dismissed.“We know he is your only son, but we beg of you. She respects your son and you, uncle and auntie. There are many things she may be useful for.”

“Useful? She is enough as she is. We know that very well.” Uncle states, making eye contact with his wife. The look of understanding flashing between the two, unseen by the young princes.

“Just as we know our son. He has felt feelings of affection for the young lady for quite some time. You might not know this but she was the reason he decided he wanted to join the guard.” The older woman conceals her giggle behind her hand. “I had never seen such a rambunctious boy turn so serious.”

“He knew?” They both shoot up in surprise. Their friend had never mentioned having any knowledge of your sisters situation. But then again, they had never spoken of this either. 

“Yes. Our son was adamant that he would protect the princess. We could not sway his mind. Though we did not try to. We have never looked down on her because of her situation. She has become a well rounded beautiful woman, our son would be blessed to take her as his wife.” The Lord nods, 

“Does that mean you will agree?” They feel giddy. They could save you.

The older couple share a fond smile. 

“There is something our son has been drawn to since he was a young boy. We believe your sister is the key to his happiness.” 

--------

“Hoseok, what are you doing here?” You beam, controlling your feet to not skip your way over to him. A lady never skips…at least not in front of others.

“Princess” He greets you with a bow and warm smile as he always does. “I was summoned by the Emperor and Empress. Why have you come?” 

“I was requested by Uncle and Auntie to meet them here.” You explain. “What is going on? Do you think its about Mothers birthday feast tomorrow?” 

“I’m not sure, but we should not keep them waiting. Let us go in.” He opens the doors and waits for you to enter first.

You hurry in, smiles directed at your parents then your uncle and aunt. 

A large round table adorned with vast plates of food, both your fathers sat near the far end laughing and chatting away, raising a drink to eachother. Your mothers seated next to their husbands also tremendously cheerful. 

You share a quick glance before bowing. 

“Emperor. Empress.” He greets first.

“Uncle. Auntie.” You greet directly after. 

“Children! Come in! Have a seat.” You father cheers happily. Your aunt waves a hand over to you for you to sit next to her. 

You bound over to sit next to your aunt. Which just so happens to be next to Hoseok as well.

“We are celebrating this evening.” Your mother informs, her attention on him.

“What are we celebrating Empress?” Formality laced in his words. It made you smile, even if he was like another son to your parents he highly respected them. 

“Lord and Lady Jung, have come to us with a proposal contract and we have agreed.” The Emporer boisterously exclaims.

“I’m sorry, Father and Mother I fear I do not comprehend.” You express, eye brows coming to meet in a frown. 

You see a flash of something cross Hoseoks face, but you stay focused on your looking between your parents. 

Your Aunt grabs both your hands, placing them in the space between you and forcing you to face her.

“The Emporer and emperess have accepted our proposal for our son and you to be wed.” She cheers brightly, hands giving yours a light squeeze.

“I’m to marry-?” You look back at him. Scared to see panic or disgust or even rage on his dazzling features. But there isn’t any sign of darkening. Only red tinted ears give away any emotions he’s feeling. That in itself leaves you astonished adn shaken. 

Words of wedding ceremonies are abrupt in your ears. The pattern of the bedding for your marriage suite. 

“But, Uncle, auntie. I’m not worthy of marrying your son.” You say it like it is a definite fact, interrupting their excited remarks. 

“Nonsense!” Your father bellows, a bright smile never leaving his face, he places his arm around his long term friend, who shares an equally blinding smile. “You two shall be wed! It is a beautiful idea, one I wish we had thought of sooner.” 

The laughter from the elders erupts once again, leaving you shell shocked. Remaining quiet you can’t bring yourself to look at anyone, opting to stare at the oak table in front of you. How did these events happen? You had just made the choice to…

A sinking feeling hits you all at once. Your brothers. They were the only ones that knew of your plans, other then the physician you had asked the tether serum about. They would be the ones to try to stop you. 

You’d deal with them after this dinner. You’d confront them and talk to Hoseok about his rejecting the marriage proposal. 

You just had to sit nicely until then.

--------

“What did you do?!” You stormed into the study room the next day, you knew your brothers had hidden themselves away. They always resided in the same place to try to escape you when they had done something they knew you would be unhappy with. You had been followed by Hoseok on your way there when you mentioned you were confronting your brothers, upon meeting him that morning.

“Sister. This is a study room. Please refrain from raising your voice.” Your oldest mock scolding you, book in hand.

“Then answer me. I know it was the two of you that have provoked the marriage idea.” You were pulling back your seething temper, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

“Princess~” Hoseok calls calmly from behind you. You could feel him close behind you, not touching but close enough that you felt like you could breathe.

“What all of our parents decide to do we do not hold any influence over. You know as well as anyone.” Seokjin scoffs. The audacity he had to play ignorant at this moment was appalling. 

“We may have brought up the idea of a union.” Taehyung supplies from the far end of the room. 

“Why would you do this?” Exasperation seeps out of you. There was no point in hiding your displeasure or annoyance at these two. “You know I wish to be tethered.”

“Tethered?” Hoseok speaks again. “Who were you to be tethered to?”

“Mother and Father.” You state, angry eyes set on your brothers, but also not wishing to elaborate. This isn’t how you wanted him to find out. You were all childhood friends, you wanted to tell him yourself when he had time away from his duties in the guard.

“She believes no one shall love her because she is unable to cultivate. She believes she is not worth dotting on.” Your elder brother chimes in, closing his book and sauntering over to you. “But that’s not true. Is it Hoseok?“

“No. It’s not.” Your childhood friends voice is stern, you had never heard it like this before, at least not targeted at you. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Is this why you wanted me to talk my parents out of this marriage?”

“I wanted to be tethered to mother and father because I wish to serve them for eternity.” Your jaw tense. Your core feeling as it had turned into stone. 

“Look at me.” You have never heard his voice so cold and low, not even when he was at work. Something in you makes it impossible to deny him, so you do as he orders. You can see the fire behind his eyes, before your allow the flames to consume you you look towards the chilled marble ground. You hear muffled voices of your brother behind you but you can’t react. You feel warm fingers gently push your chin up ever so gently, forcing you to make eye contact. “Princess. Y/n. Is that really why?”

Your voice catches in your throat. A cough threatening to scratch its way out of you. “I am not like others. I cannot contribute to a high class home as I should. I’m…. broken.”

You had never felt so weak as you did in that moment, not since the days yo uhad been found. You could never lie to him. Not once. 

He studies your face, searching for something. “Is it the worst to be betrothed to me?”

“What?” His question catches you off guard. You blink at him in confusion. Of course, you knew he would be angry at your decision, or at the very least angry with you for not trusting in him to discuss it. 

“I can understand if you wish not to be wed to me because you do not think I’m adequate.” His voice soft like the look in his eyes. Soothing your anger towards your brothers in a instant, your only focus on him and the sad smile on his lips.

“That is ridiculous. I would not want it to be promised to any one else in this entire kingdom.” Why do you feel breathless? 

“Good.” His hand slips away from your skin. For a mere second, you miss the contact before realizing what you said. Your face burns with embarrassment, your eyes scrunching closed at how idiotic you sounded to yourself. Had you lost your mind? “Then I will discuss with our parents for the ceremony to be held as soon as possible.”

The shock brings you back out of your inner reprimanding. But before you can formulate words he’s bowing to your brothers and then you and he’s gone.

“W-what just happened?” Your mind struggles to catch up. 

Hearing your brothers snicker at you doesn’t’ help, you’re still frozen in place. Frozen staring at the now closed doors that Hoseok, your childhood friend, had left through. 

Seokjins full laugh fills the room. “Looks like you’ll be a little bride faster than I will be a groom.” 

masterlist

Yoonkook Fic Recs for the year of the Tiger

Happy New Year! 🐅 If you're sick and trapped at home (like I am), here's a few of my favorite Yoonkook fics to get you through 💕

(these are all complete and over 10K, I might do a list for short fics later)

👍Yes to smut:

Only for Tonight by dreamingdaegu

one of my all time favs, I've read it several times, the emotional intensity and slow realization of feelings is just 💯

crush me. by naturallyvante

super visceral, mostly sexual tension and then very emotional smut

consign me not to darkness by bellamees

Daechwita inspired historical enemies to lovers awesomeness

The Casual Corruption of Jeon Jungkook by Baggy_Trousers

Yoongi helps Jungkook figure out his sexuality 👀👀

🚫No to smut:

twenty first century boy by xiajin

Genderfluid Kook 💜 super cute, hurts a little, one I come back to often

a paper crown by nitilia

YG leaves his idol group, meets pet fish store owner JK. Love the vibe of this fic, it's very quiet and contemplative

twenty-four by fruitily

The one where Tae handcuffs Yoonkook together for 24 hours ✨ everything by fruitily is amazing tbh

about soulmates and inevitable doom also by fruitily lol

Normally not super into soulmates aus, but this one is such an interesting take. YG is angsty, JK just wants to meet his soulmate

(other fic rec lists)

Yoonkook fic recs because I'm bored

Usually I've been doing this once a month but whatever, here's some fic recs, each one increasing in length lol

Inward peripheries by murkya

cute, well written short fic where Yoongi is an interior designer and JK is a picky idol client 💜

the opposite of loneliness by notyoongs

Joseon era JK, the royal guard for Prince Yoongi, is swapped with modern JK, boyfriend of modern Yoongi. Hijinks ensue.

It gets worse before it gets better by captainmentalstability

Technically the second part in the series but can be read alone, long epic HYYH au with angel!Namjoon and lots of angst.