a / hunger

SHE’S NOT KNOWN TO BE FORGIVING. women like her, carved from the rarest jadeite and ground down into the vision she is now as house han was promised; women like her do not forgive and forget. wu yuhua, mind you, has not once forgotten nor ever forgiven someone who’ve wronged her. and, naturally, has never gotten over anything ever. which, if one were to take into consideration of her age—seems almost childish. 

though—what is maturity when her girlhood is snatched from your hands and wrung dry? when it is instead wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl and worn like second skin. her girlhood, her innocence, which is no longer hers to claim—down to the very disarming smile she’s practiced and mastered—she keeps it because men love a wide-eyed-heart-on-her-sleeves thing, even if she’s long been anything but.

she keeps it, in memoriam of who she used to be. she keeps it, really, as a reminder of how far she’s fallen.

but, we return to never forgiving. we return to the bitter ball she’s tucked under her tongue. we return to the pit of smoggy flame burning bright in the void that we’ll hesitantly call a soul.

we return to the letter she’s penned, sealed with intent to send it far away—south, if you will.

sung, she writes, i hope this letter reaches you well.

i’m sorry to hear that your new bride passed without taking you with her.

full disclaimer i started this intro when i was half awake then i completely forgot where i was going w it so :) 

introducing...wu yuhua! best known as the face of house wu (in the early years anyway), infamously known amongst the grapevine as house han’s favored honeypot as well as a black widow (this is, after the deaths of her husbands ofc), and formerly known as the lady wei of the fire nation and lady jing of the earth nation from her prior marriages.

now for... the face of house wu!

as the oldest amongst her sisters, yuhua bears the burden of upholding the family name—or more specifically, catering to house han’s needs. (be fkn fr the arrangement for house han’s support to their rise in nobility is sus af) 

jack of all trades but master of none, yuhua has under her belt a plethora of skills—she’s learned about as many instruments (pipa, guzheng, etc) and just as many dances as well as carries a pretty tune. and yet, nothing substantial that her sisters can’t overshadow her in later on. still, because she’s a beauty, she’s never had to be best. (mom beats this into her early on)

it is her beauty that makes her renowned, that boosts the family name. (+ the fact that when the sisters move in public together, they go in a crowd of pretty girl next to pretty girl next to pretty girl, with yuhua at the head; so they’re pretty Infamous ~*~) 

then there’s... the honeypot and the black widow!

given the eternal debt (as mother would like to put it) to house han, yuhua has done her share of buttering up and schmoozing under the orders of house han. read: secrets are best extracted the way, with honey rather than vinegar. yuhua to a degree prides herself in the ability to pry open the chests of men, take their secrets as her own.

yuhua’s first marriage is just shy of her 20s to a wealthy man just shy of his 50s. details of their sudden engagement is kept purposely vague yet the wedding itself was obnoxiously extravagant and noisy. the two moved out of hari bulkan to her husband’s land shortly after the marriage. and yuhua returned alone, just shy of twenty months later. 

strange, but one look at the tears on her face excuses any and all skepticism (he was rather old anyway).

so, we move on. she returns to the stage after ‘mourning’ her husband and the world continues to spin.

and soon (give or take 4-5 years), comes her second marriage; mind you, details are also blurry here.

yuhua remarries in her late 20s, this time a ways further away than a little bit of land outside of hari bulkan. rumor has it she picks a lord from the earth nation simply because he knows little of her reputation. but the ceremony all the same is grand, held within the walls of ba sing se with all her sisters and mother in attendance.

and for a while, all was well. 

then the fire nation (chaehwi) attacked...!  

the earth nation, though thoroughly unaffected, watches anxiously as war begins to unravel on fire nation land. and it is during this state of tension amongst bss that her husband Suddenly falls deathly ill—passing eight months later.

yuhua herself returns to her home country around 48bg; perhaps the only one in the nation thankful for the war, given that no one seems to bat an eye on the suspicious circumstances of her return.

personality (heavily wip)

i’m blanking really hard on this so excuse if its really barebones

stereotypical wu enforced conditioning has whipped her into a kind of demure, sultry, damsel that men love to stick their necks out for. she’s prim, proper, and moves with a grace that’s been beaten into the spine since young. yuhua, however, has never claimed to be kind or generous and no one has ever expected such of her. despite that, she’s known to be quite amiable and popular amongst ladies her age (generally because she’s a “trendsetter” and all); not that she’s particularly close to any one of them (she knows exactly what they think of her). doesn’t have any specific interest in gossip (unless it’s something related to the hans/wus or something the hans want her to gather info for), yuhua is incredibly self-centered and therefore is only interested in things that revolve around her. 

                                ...AKA THE TREASON OF CHAEHWI OF THE FIRE NATION

                                                                         /

“i’m sorry.” his eyes rove over the thick gashes alongside his oldest friend’s back. chaein might as well have cut into him. “blue,” chaehwi murmurs around the lump in his throat, smoothing the flat of his palm over the rough of his scales. he’s aware of the sentiments here: at the core, blue has never been one for war, never been one for violence—it’s blind loyalty that tethers him here. and at his—well, chaehwi dares not to look inward. if he’s honest, he doesn’t even think it to be something recognizable. “when you’ve recovered, we’ll go on an excursion, you and me—you liked the eastern air temple fruits last time.” he promises blindly, parts pleas from a dying boy with nothing dear left to his heart. 

what would he have remnant of the boy he used to be then, if blue chooses to leave? absolutely nothing. 

For @legacykills

It is a strange concept for Yoonjae to graspㅡtransferring his fealties from one to another without so much as a second guess. He walks through life in the palace as if he was born and bred just to be the bodyguard of the crown prince. ( Whoever it may be. ) He enjoys the respected position as much as he can, however, despite the countless days and nights of paranoia. Only the calm he is rarely allowed can reel in the unfettered nature he suppresses. Alone… and during whatever time he got to spent with Chaehwi.

From their childhood together on, the two seemingly served as a decent match for their future positions; and although the prince had not always been sickly, Yoonjae developed an inherent desire to protect him. Seeing the coveted title of crown prince stripped away and the sorrow and frustration on his face only eats at him from within. Had he failed in his promises to him the entire time? Could it be that this was the plan for him the entire time? To rip away everything that he had in an attempt to deterr all motivation for the crown?

Yoonjae stifled any venomous glareㅡany ill-willㅡtoward the revered Fire Lord Chaesan. Even from the safety of being concealed by a crowd, he knows he cannot afford to inject so many personal feelings into the matter of these politics. He must speak to Chaehwi instead. Perhaps he can work some sort of magic to calm him with his presence, alone.

He strolls through the festivities, hands clasped behind his back. The music, the dancers, the bustle of accolades. He is unable to enjoy any of them. Only when he spots Chaehwi does he offer one of his stiff, subtle smiles. He does not sit beside him out of habit, instead standing off to the side above his shoulder.

“Are you enjoying yourself so far, your highness?” Yoonjae reaches across the table, grabbing a large dumpling and offering it to Chaehwi. A peace offering, perhaps. “Here. Eat.”

he’s a child of the sun, first.

chaehwi owes his existence to the sun, to the first dragons to dance across the skies, to the blood passed down by his ancestors. and it is because he owes them, for the blood and the bones and the organs (and the ire and the shame and the condemnation), that he’s here today. poised and perfect alongside the rest of his siblings for a coronation of someone less than. 

a united front, it’s all chaesan had asked of him. 

pretenses are important. honor is important. a royal family split at the seams spells little reassurance to a nation struggling to embrace new change. chaesan had only told him once, but her minions (sisters, brother, eager advisors) made sure to thoroughly beat the horse into the ground. as if the decision to attend the ceremony was ever completely up to him.

and so, he’s here now. gazing upon the platform with an awful taste of deja vu at the back of his throat. like last time, the ceremony goes through without a hitch. like last time, the back of his neck prickles at the amount of eyes laid upon his back. naturally—which, chaehwi had suspected is the reason behind the personal escort to the ceremony today—the coronation of a new crown prince sheds a more disgraceful spotlight on his predecessor. 

and amongst the usual pleasantries of how-are-yous and the occasionally bold i’m-sorry-for-your-losses, chaehwi can’t help but wonder how many is genuine and how many genuinely anticipated a complete and utter meltdown on his half. 

but he is a child of the sun, first. and though he doesn’t look any the slightest blessed by the sun, chaehwi still adheres to the responsibilities of such, forgives the lesser nobilities for their misdemeanors—knowing fully well had it been any other sibling, they wouldn’t have dared to raise a tongue—and sits pretty in his place at the table; wetting his lip occasionally with a cup of mead. 

then, enters han yoonjae. 

“do i look to be?” has his act really excelled to that point? or can han yoonjae no longer read him the same as he did several moons ago. chaehwi lowers his gaze to the offering, no doubt out of goodwill—you see, all everyone’s ever offered him these days is pity and goodwill. yet all he’s ever wanted was to be left alone. “i’m afraid i don’t have much of an appetite these days.” at least, not one around any one of his siblings; and now, his oldest friend. 

                                 ... AKA THE EMANCIPATION OF CHAEHWI OF THE FIRE NATION

“A rat has honor to you?” Chaeseong quips smilingly, his head tilted with an easygoing insouciance that plays wryly among the upturned edges of his skewered mouth. “No wonder these engagements stand so vital to you and your people. You’re all desperate to separate yourselves from vermin. Though, I suppose I should have expected nothing else.” He pauses emphatically, sparing both a glance to the insignia of winged beasts emblazoned on wall-hung mantles and an indicative toss of his hand. “A true dragon would not need to say it is a dragon.” 

Chaeseong poses himself with unmissable intent, doubling down with palpable burden. “Perhaps it’s for your advantage, though. At least this way, you have some allegiance somewhere, right? Even if it is with something as killable as a rat.” He situates himself with a pointedness, the same way a hunter assesses their quarry. Chaeseong commands two steps forward like a challenge and bares himself like a weapon, his figurative corps à corps —  dark eyes like piercing steel, eviscerating his brother’s. 

The concurrent silence is a deafening and cacophonous shriek that Chaeseong dare not break, especially before the other’s smile. It’s that same feeling again. The wilderness, the refuge he takes under Dayax’s wing, learning how to soar with two feet. It feels like that moment again, where Chaeseong has hands pressed tight to the scales of Dayax’s neck and his heels dug firm. Where Chaeseong is walking the precipice over the waterfall before he finally embarks in his first flight. 

A new adventure. Another solitude. 

The bitterness passes over Chaeseong’s expression briefly and he exhales as if to remind himself, mirroring Chaehwi’s smile. “Well, if you don’t fight, then I suppose you also have no way to secure me an audience with the High Sage sooner. Hm,” Chaeseong ruminates amidst a brief pause. “Why not get something to eat? It should be easy enough.”

“naturally,” he chalks his ability to keep up with the facade to years of watching his mother. his new brother is no different from a palace consort, none too different from the prettily packaged women equipped with fangs and claws poised to snatch the fire lord away. "our people value honor and glory as much as they do power.” vaguely, he ponders on the objective here. why his newfound half-brother is so seemingly hellbent on spitting out scathing dative after dative. chaehwi’s own vexation doesn’t fall anywhere near him, but the fire lord and the circumstances that led to the ‘grand reveal’.

still, what is he to do if he wants to keep barking?

“ah, i think you have better things to worry about than my allegiances—” his head tilts, keen eyes roving over the state of the man before him. chaesan couldn’t have domesticated him first before bringing him out here. teeth bared and stark raving mad like a dog on the street. “i take it you understand that you can’t rule with power and dragons alone—we’re a nation, with rules and regulations, not a bunch of animals in the wild.” chaehwi gestures vaguely, “but i’m sure the fire lord will make sure you’re well caught up sooner or later.” 

and the sooner she does that, the sooner he’d be free of the tiresome task of being his ‘brother’s’ tour guide.