Somebody’s taste in fiction says nothing about them morally
There is no wrong reason to enjoy dark fiction, and a person’s reasons for liking dark fiction is their business, not yours, mine, or anyone else’s
Requiring someone to show their trauma card before you can absolve them of their alleged thought crimes is cop behavior
Edit: my influx of followers gained from this post included a terf/swerf, so I’d like to make this perfectly clear:
I am transgender!
Porn a type of fiction, and is included in this post!
If you follow an ideology that commonly predatorjackets people (especially trans people) based on their taste in fiction/porn/other consensual make believe, and had the gall to reblog this, then you are a hypocrite!
Edit 2: Rebloggable/better worded version of this post is now available here, so if you’re one of the many who keeps liking this post at random intervals, and are interested in being able to reblog it, check that out.
[ID: A banner made up of the transgender flag and red flaming text in all caps which reads, terfs fuck off // End ID]
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The salvation of Halazia was linked to his memories. All these years you´ve waited. When he finally comes to you—everything rests on whether he can recall your name.
a/n: it here! my submission for @lapydiaries first anniversary event, Witch Hunt. prompts chosen: ”we weren´t even on the same room, but i could hear your thoughts as if they were my own” + ”Did you try to hex me while we were kissing?”
*italics means it´s a memory. also i highly recommend you listen to this this this this and this while reading purely for the vibes.
The moon shines bright, high up in the sky, as you watch a troop of horsemen gallop towards the gates of Halazia.
Standing at a distance, your shadow bled dark against the white expanse beneath your boots. Though the moonlight was sharp, the riders remained oblivious to anything else, focused on crossing the gates as soon as possible.
There, on the limits of the invisible wall that prevented you from going further, you felt him. His essence thrummed within you, his heartbeat resonating inside your ribcage as your own. With frustration you waited, knowing he needed not just to be closer, but also long enough to let time and proximity rekindle the connection between you.
Also, he had to come to you, not otherwise.
So you waited.
Unchanged since the day Halazia began its descent into ruin.
With a final glance at the moon, Yeosang resumed his place beside King Seonghwa´s place. He stopped just beside the throne and overlooked the lords of Halazia considering going to war for another King.
They had been arguing about it for the past few hours, without meeting any agreement. It wasn´t that they didn´t agree with each other, it was that their King vehemently opposed.
He surveyed the room, watching the lords discuss the matter between themselves loudly, expecting Seonghwa to hear them again and pick up on their advice. But his best friend remained silent, deep in thought, so Yeosang waited to see which council in the room would speak up first.
“Your grace, I insist, we must make a decision tonight. We are running out of time” The eldest member of the council spoke, and Yeosang tensed waiting to see Seonghwa's response to the provocation.
“Do you realize you are asking me to send my men into a slaughter? And what for? To be add ons for another King's glory?” Seonghwa snapped.
“Your grace, Halazia has been perishing for so long now, I believe desperate times need desperate measures."
“Then you don´t belong to my Kingdom. I will not send my people to slaughter others in the name of desperation” Seonghwa spoke bitterly, but underneath that, Yeosang knew his friend's real sentiment.
King Theon wasn´t just who ruled the South, he was also his brother in law, having wed Princess Yerim, Seonghwa's little and only sister, barely a year ago. Theon was a warrior, a man who mistook conquest for peace. A trait that had served him with his people in the South, but threatened to destroy everything Seonghwa had left of his own Kingdom.
The King knew sending his sister to the south wasn't going to save the people of Halazia from starving. No alliance, no battle, nothing they had tried has helped the land from the curse laid upon it.
The truth was, Halazia starved.
The decay started quietly, but it quickly consumed the heart of the land, leaving the once fertile valleys filled with dust. As the soil failed, so did the waters. With the rivers running empty, fishermen were forced beyond into the grip of the open sea, many getting lost trying to bring back home any bounty. The people of Halazia died slowly, Seonghwa felt the ghost of his father’s failure weighing on his own shoulders. He had no control of earth, and he couldn't understand how a land so vast in the past was now dying, little by little, day by day before his eyes.
“I understand that we can't afford much longer living like this. That's one of the reasons my sister married King Theon, and I'm grateful for the help he has sent our way, but we need to resist and seek help elsewhere. Murdering innocent people and stealing their land is not what my father would have wanted.”
The Lord opened his mouth to speak but he decided against it. He disagreed. And all the others did too, they were desperate.
Seonghwa couldn't blame his council for being swayed into King Theon's vision; take the neighbor lands by brute force, make them submit to his reign and move the people of Halazia to a soil that was alive; instead of this, a dead land that offers nothing but hunger. ´A gift to my new family in the North.´ Theon had said on his wedding day after promising Seonghwa the help Halazia desperately needed. And for a while it worked, but as soon as the sacks of rice and grains emptied, the hunger ghosted over the Kingdom again.
Yet, Seonghwa knew his father’s spirit would never find peace if he built his kingdom’s survival on the graves of others. Because King Theon didn't have in mind a peaceful takeover, he wanted blood, a massacre. Seonghwa refused to give him the chance to wage a senseless war under Halazia's supposed interests.
Yeosang had seen countless masters try and fail to diagnose Halazia’s sickness, not one of them able to tell the King why his kingdom suffered from such perish. Every report ended up the same way. There was no natural reason but no matter how much Seonghwa, or his father before him asked, no one could tell them why the land died.
Yeosang had no way of being sure about this, but he knew deep inside him the Kingdom that had adopted him was under a curse. A power far greater than any King had brought this tragedy and Yeosang was certain about this.
He had brought the topic to his best friend before, but Seonghwa often dismissed him, refusing to give the idea any weight. Yeosang’s gut told him the witches could help them. Witches didn't mess up with Halazia and Halazia didn't mess up with them. That’s what Seonghwa always replied whenever he mentioned it.
Tales say witches had been responsible for many tragedies around the continent, of which Yeosang had no proof, but Seonghwa's father assured his children and his people that witches and Halazia had nothing to do with each other. Yet, Yeosang couldn’t ignore the coincidence that as soon as the drought began, the covens had vanished, migrating to greener lands.
Every witch, except for one.
She did not live within the walls of the castle, but was close enough to be said she completely left. Yeosang had only seen her twice, her silent figure observing their movements for reasons known only to her.
Seonghwa’s voice rose above the chatter, bringing Yeosang back into the room.
"If there is nothing more, then this council is dismissed. I will summon you when a new course of action is required."
No one else said a word, and with brief and polite bows to the King, the lords left the room one by one, leaving only Yeosang and Seonghwa in deep silence.
“Come on, out with it,” Seonghwa said, tilting his head back against his throne, looking exhausted. When Yeosang simply arched an eyebrow, the King insisted, “You’ve been deeply in thought for an hour. What is it?”
“The witch,” Yeosang said bluntly. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped on him.
"Again with this?” He then took off his crown, placing it over the mahogany table beside him. He brushed his slender fingers over his platinum hair, exhaling loudly. “The witch?.”
Yeosang smiled, already knowing what his friend was going to say.
“Yeosang, my father spent half his reign ensuring we stayed out of their sight.” He let out a dry laugh, “The lords want me to go to war and you want me to tell them I'd rather go look for answers in dark magic?”.
Yeosang hesitated but decided to speak his mind. “My king, look at the land your father left you,” Seonghwa's sharp gaze hit him but he didn't flinch. “We have sought answers literally everywhere, we keep waiting and what little remains of healthy soil on Halazia will turn to ash beneath our feet unless we do something.”
Seonghwa stood up, his tall frame going around his throne and towards the window Yeosang had been contemplating earlier. “We don´t know if she is even that powerful, why hasn´t she come closer? Why does she remain in the outskirts of the kingdom?”
“But what if she has answers?”
“I cannot risk my men to turn into stone on possibilities. The lords already think I'm a coward for not joining Theon's army. If I send them to go seek a witch, they´ll think I´ve lost my mind.”
“Then don't send the army. Send me.”
“No.” He snapped at Yeosang, not as his commander, not as a subordinate, but as a friend. The man who shared blood sweat and tears with him back in the army and helped him take care of his own Kingdom. “I already lost my sister, I cannot lose my only friend.”
“Seonghwa, I promise you I'll return. When your father accepted me into this Kingdom I swore to always do anything I could to protect it.” He gestured to the empty chairs of the council. “Let me help Halazia´s people. Let me do what I promised the late King, and what I'm now promising you.”
Seonghwa looked down at his crown. Silence stretching loudly between them. “Do you still feel it? That thing you told me about. That you believe we are under a curse.”
Yeosang nodded.
“And if she asks for a price we cannot pay?”
“Then at least we’ll finally know why we’re dying.”
That very night, long before anyone in the castle were ready to rise for a new day, Yeosang walked silently towards the gates, nodding to the guards, who looked curiously and cautiously. Without a word he mounted his horse, and asked for the gates to be opened.
From his balcony in the farthest tower of the castle, Seonghwa witnessed his friend's departure. It looked clandestine, shrouded in the mist of the dying dawn. His gaze heavy with worry and the weight of uncertainty.
We must be mad for turning our thoughts to dark power. May the Gods let us find what we seek within its darkness.
The King thought, as Yeosang's silhouette disappeared behind the castle gates as they closed behind him.
Once out, further away from the main castle, Yeosang noticed the outskirts of Halazia grew increasingly dry. The trees were white, calcified fingers reaching out of the cracked earth. The silence here was absolute. No birds, no rustle of small animals. It looked like a graveyard that refused to show any signs of life.
Then, just as the sharp cliffs of the border came into view, the air suddenly changed. It became thick, smelling of smoke and crushed lavender. Standing atop a limestone ridge, Yeosang saw a figure in flowy robes, standing still looking in his direction. He looked attentively, cautiously but with determination. The wind was strong that morning, making her hair flutter against a dark hood, covering her face.
The witch he was looking for.
He clicked his tongue to command his horse to move forward.
At the top of the small ridge, you stood still watching him get closer. You seemed composed from the outside, but inside the air in your lungs felt heavy and suffocating. It had been so many years alone, hidden inside the mountains. Slowly losing hope that he would return, until a few years ago when your heart began aching, begging to get closer until the barrier let you, in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. He had finally come back to the Kingdom in the shape of a new man. You wanted nothing but to get closer, and you would have, if not for the dark magic that prevented you from doing so.
Now, since the few years of his return, having him close enough to catch the scent of the castle’s pine soap and the musk of his travel-worn leather; it was like an unnatural force sucked the air out of your lungs.
Yeosang dismounted and the gravel crunched beneath his boots, he was now a few feet from you, below where you were standing. From below, Yeosang saw your hood was drawn up, hiding your face from the day´s light, so all he could make out were slender fingers and worn boots. He got a couple of steps closer and you let your hood down, allowing Yeosang to see you clearly.
The witch was… young. She even looked a handful of years younger than him. Even at a distance, he could notice how beautiful she was. He felt a brief wave of warmth running down from his chest to his stomach, and he thought she had the face of a love song.
Feeling confused, Yeosang haven´t been able to grip his sword before you at that moment, his body seems to fight his mind. He suddenly felt the need to prove something. His heart was pondering with a rhythm he hadn't felt in years.
It felt out of place. It wasn't what he came to do.
Your own heart hammered inside like a trapped bird, your hands trembled beneath your skirts, you had to put them into a fist to prevent your fingernails from dragging into your palms.
But you couldn´t afford to lose control.
Collecting yourself you walked down, slowly closing the space between you. The closer you got, the more you recognized him. He was exactly as you remembered, yet hauntingly different. His face was the same from the man he was before, but his eyes were filled with the innocence of a new life.
“A man of the North, venturing so deep into the forgotten valley,” you said as you stood almost face to face with him. You realized then that he likely didn't carry his old name. “What is it that you seek here…?” you trailed off, watching his hand over the hilt of his sword. A small, sad smile tugged at your lips as you sensed the flicker of fear in him. “I carry no weapons. At least, none you can touch.”
“And that´s why I must be ready.”
Upon hearing him, your heart fluttered intensely. His voice was exactly the same. Smooth and velvety, like warm honey. “I´m especially cautious of anyone who stands alone in the center of a valley while the Kingdom where it stands withers.”
You smiled dryly again. “I see.”
Now this close, Yeosang could confirm what he saw in the distance. Her sharp face, glowing skin, soft lips, and though looking tired, striking piercing eyes. His gut spoke to him again, it told him that it was foolish to see a beauty like hers and think it was anything less than fatal.
“I´ll be brief. I´m here because I seek the end of Halazia’s suffering. My King says the land is dying of natural causes. My gut says otherwise.”
“What´s your name, Knight?”
“Yeosang.” He bowed his head lightly. “I´m King Seonghwa's Army commander.”
You noticed the way his eyes searched yours, looking for any threat, but also for something he couldn't name. You felt the warmth radiating off him, a stark contrast to the many years of cold you had endured. It took every ounce of your willpower not to reach out and touch the pulse point at his neck, just to feel the life in him, the life he once swore it belonged to you only.
“Your gut is wise, Yeosang” you replied, your voice softening. Knowing he had remained in the shadows about Halazia´s demise long enough, you cut to the point. “The land isn't dying, it is being punished. And the only way to lift the curse is to return to the place where it was invoked.” You turned your back to him, trying to show that you really were not carrying any blade. You pointed west, where the peaks were shrouded in unnatural, violet-tinted clouds. “The journey will be long. It will demand more than strength.” You looked back at him over your shoulder. “You need to remember things you’ve spent a lifetime forgetting.”
Yeosang frowned, the familiar crease appearing between his brows, the same crease he used to have when he was confused by a riddle all those years ago. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve forgotten nothing.”
A bittersweet ache blooming in your chest. You knew that by the time both reach the summit, he will know exactly who you were, and why Halazia had suffered.
Without another word, you gestured Yeosang to follow you down the winding path of cracked limestone covered by snow. “There´s essentials I need to gather before the journey ahead, mostly spell supplies, cookware, fur...”
“Spells?” Yeosang asked, intrigued.
"We'll need them for various purposes” you looked behind your shoulders. “Also I need to get my horse”. As much as you would have loved to share a saddle with him just to feel his warmth, you knew the path required his proximity to be a slow, careful reawakening.
The remaining walk towards your home was silent. Though calling it a home was an overstatement, it was more an extension of the earth around you than anything else. After a while you arrived. Yeosang watched curiously to the hanging bundles of dried herbs, shimmering crystals, and shelves made of petrified wood. It felt ancient, smelling of damp stone and something far more intoxicating.
“Wait here,” you instructed him.
“We can go back to the Kingdom and collect water and some grains-” Yeosang started but you denied his offer firmly.
“No. I can´t get closer than the outskirts of the Kingdom. I'll collect what we need here.” And with that you went deeper into your hut. Silver dust, heavy furs, some pots and herbs. As you did this Yeosang watched you attentively. His eyes wandered over the strange artifacts, but his focus kept returning to you.
You stopped before a small stone mortar. Without looking up, you reached for a jar of dried lavender and a small vial of sea salt. You began to grind them together, your wrist moving in a specific, circular motion. This mixture was going to be helpful to suppress the hunger that could make both loose energy way into your journey. The mountain was a few weeks on horseback, hopefully that would be enough time for Yeosang to remember his old name, his old life.
As the scent of the crushed lavender hit the salt, the aroma changed. It became sharp, briny, and sweet. Yeosang suddenly felt his mind become a blur.
He saw himself out on a sunny day, a cliff and waves crashing into it.
Then for a flickering moment he saw you, laying beside him. But this time instead of a shadow over your eyes, there was brightness. You laughed.
"The salt is for luck, and the lavender... is so you can always find your way back to me."
Yeosang gasped, his knees buckling as he slammed back into the present. He caught himself against the stone shelf, he felt breathless. The witch´s hut was back. The silence was back.
You stood perfectly still, the mortar and pestle held in your hands. You looked at him with expectancy, eyes searching his face for any sign of familiarity. "Are you alright?" you asked, voice trembling just enough for him to hear it.
“I´m fine, I think the smell of the herbs is too strong”.
Deciding not to push him for now, you simply nodded, quickly funneling your recent mixture into small glass vials and tucking them into your leather pouch. “We leave now, we can talk on the way.” You stepped outside and headed to the back of the hut to retrieve your horse. “This is Esme,” you said with pride, leading out the white mare who had been your sole companion for years.
Yeosang smiled. “Esme. That’s a lovely name for a horse.” He turned toward his own mount. “That is Shadow. I’m not particularly creative with names.”
“Shadow is fitting.” you replied, glancing over the dark elegant stallion who waited patiently. “He resembles you.”
Yeosang nodded, not sure he understood why he was getting flustered.
By the time you had everything ready, the sun dipped below the horizon. You led out Esme into the deepening twilight and began to secure her satchels. Yeosang approached his horse and did the same, ready to follow your lead.
As you began to ride, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the snowy, brittle surface was the only sound. After both had found your rhythm, Yeosang broke the silence. “I have to ask, why are you agreeing to help now?”
You keep your gaze fixed forward, the reins loose in your hands as Esme picked her way across the snowy limestone. The question was inevitable, but hearing him ask it, hearing the suspicion in his voice felt like a blow.
“I have my reasons. Besides, until now, I wasn´t really able to offer any help. You are the first one to ever come look for me. Please, don’t mistake my decision for charity.”
Yeosang urges Shadow closer, his brow furrowed in that way you remember so well. He looks at you with stubborn curiosity. “But you didn't even hesitate. Halazia has outcast your kind for a generation, and you simply... packed your bags. It seems too good to be true.” He pauses, like waiting for your reply, but when you say nothing he continues. “What is it you’re asking for in return? Gold? A title? Or something else?”
You pull back on the reins, bringing Esme to a slow walk so you can look at him. “I ask for nothing from your King,” you say, your voice dropping to a low hum. “And I have no use for any gold. What I seek is something you can´t physically touch or see.”
“Then name it, I should know what debt will ensue.”
“I am asking for a memory to be found. My price for helping Halazia is simple, you must stay by my side until the very end. And when we reach the peak of the mountain...” You stop, your heart hammering against your ribs. “When we reach the peak I want you to look at me and tell me the name of the woman you see standing there.”
Yeosang pales, his breath hitching. He isn't stupid, what you seek is deeply personal and somehow it has something to do with him. The name of the Woman… he realizes you never gave him your name.
“Yours.” his voice barely a whisper.
“A name tied up to someone else´s heart, filled with memories,” you reply, turning your horse back to the path. “It is the most expensive thing in the world. No gold, no titles can ever pay for it.”
Yeosang feels a sharp pain tightening inside his chest.
“Now ride, the night is short, and we have more than thirty years of silence to make up for.”
As the moon climbed higher, the path led you to an ancient forest where the trees grew so thick their branches allowed very little light. The air here was heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine, a stark contrast to the dry death of the valley.
"It's been a few hours, let's rest here" you announced, pulling Esme to a halt beneath a sprawling oak that looked more like a sleeping giant than a tree.
Yeosang dismounted, his movements stiff, he hadn't spent that many hours in his saddle since his army days a few years back. Quickly he gathered some tree branches and began to reach for his flint and steel to strike a fire, when he saw you approaching with a subtle but teasing smile on your face.
“Let me take care of that.”
He looked at you confused. Then you simply reached out and caught a handful of the freezing night air and whispered a brief spell with a low hum, a small flame appearing into your open palm. It was floating rather than touching you, and you quickly placed it on top of the branches Yeosang had gathered hastily at his feet. Slowly, the flames began growing and in a matter of seconds a more than decent fireplace glowed against the dark Oak behind it.
Yeosang’s jaw dropped. You sat down on a mossy root, watching him as he began warming his hands with the fire you created. You have shared many fireplace meetings with him in the past, and all the memories of those years wander at the back of your mind as you watch him.
"I- have never seen anything like it” he said, finally sitting across from you, no fear in his tone just a fragile, wide-eyed wonder. "It's beautiful."
"Magic is a tool," you said, leaning forward into the orange glow, your eyes sparkling. "Sometimes it can make ordinary things beautiful, as well as dangerous."
For a moment, the heavy weight of the curse and those years of mourning vanished. In the small circle of orange light, you weren't a witch with a tragic past and he wasn't a king's guard with no memories of your existence. You were just two souls sharing a carefree moment.
"I don´t know how to explain it, but seeing this… magic, it doesn't feel cold or dark like I always thought it would be. It feels charming.”
“It´s just a fireplace. There's a lot of dark magic out there, I might have to do something you won´t find as charming later…” Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but you needed to be sincere with Yeosang about everything, about yourself. Perhaps, him feeling the allure of your magic was because his heart remembers the warmth, even if his head doesn't.
"You said the ritual requires me remembering something," Yeosang called out over the flickering of the flames. “I need you to tell me how exactly my memories fit into what is happening to our Kingdom."
You kept your eyes focused on the flames. The truth was painful, and you were afraid that if you let it out all at once, it would make him hate you. You needed to let the memories grow back naturally, rather than forcing a ghost into his skin.
"If I told you everything now, it would just be a story to you," you muttered. "I know it seems strange, but trust me, for Halazia´s fortune to return, we need not to rush our journey."
He looked like he wanted to argue, to demand the truth, but the softness in your eyes silenced him. He simply nodded, leaning back against the root, his gaze fixed on you until sleep finally claimed him.
The next morning, after waking up, you realized you needed to eat something. You offered Yeosang a piece of bread, a useful spell that turned raw grains into a decent meal. It had saved you on many occasions when you were too exhausted to travel South to get food and other supplies. He accepted, and you ate in silence while preparing your horses to continue the journey.
The fire from the night before had left a circle of charcoal against the snow. As you handed Yeosang another piece, his fingers brushed yours. A spark jolted through the contact. It was brief, but he looked at your hand, then at your face, a flicker of old memories crossing his features.
"You speak of over thirty years of silence," Yeosang said, his voice raspy. "But I am not even thirty years old. How can I have memories older than my time on this earth?"
You turned to Esme, pursing your lips. "Time is a river to some, but a circle to others. The day Halazia started dying, your past self died too. Some years later your current self was born, and it took you this long to come back and search for your memories."
“It would be easier if you just told me what I'm supposed to remember,” Yeosang replied. “The Kingdom is still dying, many had already. Do you think we have the privilege of wasting more time?”
He was right. You felt hollow and selfish, demanding his memories of you to come back after what you did… but the bitter reality was that it was necessary for the curse to break only when he remembered your name.
You mounted Esme, turning to see him. "If I could scream the truth into your mind and fix what I-,” you stopped, breathing in. “If I could simply fix things the easy way I would have done it decades ago. But the magic that broke Halazia is too dark. It requires patience, and sacrifice."
“Sacrifice.” Yeosang repeated. “More sacrifice than it already caused?”
You locked your eyes on him. You wish he could understand you just by looking deeply into them, but it was absurd to just ask him to trust you. A witch. A witch who knew how to help the kingdom he protected for years, and was waiting on a hill for him to come ask her how.
“Enough. Let's continue, we are still far away.”
You pulled Esme to a sharp halt and continued west. Yeosang said nothing and followed after you in silence.
The following days felt tense. You tried not to push him away, and he stayed reserved. Every evening when the sun dipped low, Yeosang would distance himself to train, but when the night grew deep he returned to the fire you created, enjoying the flames silently. From time to time you would catch him with his eyes fixed on you, searching for answers.
One afternoon, you found a canyon where a dried up riverbed cut a deep scar through the earth. Spanning the dusty gap was the ruin of an old wooden bridge, but near the edge sat something out of place; the skeletal remains of a small, wooden pier; jutting out over a sea of grey silt that had once been a rushing river.
Yeosang stood perfectly still, his head tilted as if listening to a melody only he could hear. Just like back in your hut, the harsh, dry wind of the present was being replaced by a memory far warmer, far kinder.
In his mind, he saw you again. You weren't wearing the dark silks of a witch; you were in a simple white sundress, your hair braided with wildflowers. You were sitting at the very edge of this pier, your bare feet dangling over the rushing water. "Look, look!" the memory-version of you laughed, pointing at a pair of river otters playing in the current.
He then saw himself sit beside you, the wood of the pier warm beneath his palms. He remembered the exact feeling of his shoulder brushing against yours, a simple brush that made his skin tingle.
In the memory, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring made of braided silver wire. He didn't say anything grand; he just slipped it onto your finger, and by the way you looked at him with eyes full of light, he knew that was the most beautiful thing he had ever known.
"Always," he heard his past self whisper. "I’ll always find my way back to you."
Yeosang blinks, and the golden day is shattered. The turquoise water turned back into grey silt.
"I just saw you," his voice thick. "We were both here at the pier, I gave you a-" He stopped to look down at your hand, as if he expected to notice a silver ring. You gasped softly, your left hand instinctively over the right one, where the silver band still adorned your finger. Yeosang looked up at you and his eyes were wide open.
He took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "You were wearing flowers in your hair. And I... I promised I would always find you."
“You did...” you managed to mumble.
Yeosang’s hand was still hovering near yours. You could feel the air between you thickening, charged with the truth he was slowly remembering…
Then, the silence of the riverbed was shattered by the frantic, heavy rhythm of a horse's steps galloping towards your way. Yeosang’s soldier instincts snapped; he stepped in front of you, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword as he scanned the ridgeline.
A lone rider burst through the skeletal trees, in a moment the horse was heading right at you. Even if Yeosang guarded you, you were also ready to defend yourself. Once the rider was in front of you, you could see it was a woman, her chestnut mare wild eyed with exhaustion. She wore silks that you noticed were once fine but were now torn and dusted.
"Help!" She cried out, high pitched and cracking with terror.
The rider tumbled from the saddle before the horse even came to a full stop. Yeosang moved forward, managing to catch her before she hit the ground, his sword drawn but held low. As the woman struggled to stand, her hood fell back, revealing a face that made Yeosang freeze in mid-step.
"Yeri?" he gasped.
Princess Yerim of Halazia. The King's sister.
You had never seen her, but was informed she wed King Theon of the South a long while ago. Now that you see her closely, you noticed she was barely an adult. Her silver hair hanging out her side in a disheveled braid.
“Sangie!” She threw herself at Yeosang´s arms, sobbing as soon as he reached him. Her eyes were sunken, and her lips were parched white. She looked nothing like the royal jewel of the Southern court. Her face sobbing against Yeosang´s chest, clutching at his leather gambeson with trembling hands. “Is it truly you?" she cried, her breath coming in ragged hitches. "Please Sangie, please, he’s coming…”
"Who's coming?” Yeosang asked, his voice hardening as he looked toward the horizon the princess had just fled from.
“Theon… I- I escaped, and now he has sent his guards after me.”
Seeing the princess so terrified, Yeosang didn't need to ask anything else. He could do that later, when she felt safe. “Yeri, how many?”
"Five... maybe more," Yeri whispered, collapsing against him. "Theon’s Black Guard, they’ve tracked me since the border. I just rode back North, I wanted to go home. They have orders to bring back my head if I refuse to return."
“Whatever you need to discuss, you can do it later,” you say, your voice startling the princess, who hadn't seemed to notice you until that moment. “I can hear horses.” you quickly mount Esme and gesture for Yeosang and the princess to do the same. The horse she had arrived on continued its frantic gallop toward the forest, leaving her stranded. Sensing the urgency, Yeosang quickly helps her onto Shadow, seating her before him. With the princess secured, they follow your lead as you wheel around, heading in the opposite direction of your original path to evade the approaching riders.
The three of you rode for a while in tense silence, the only sound the heavy gallop of the horses and your own breathing. You led them through a narrow crevice between two towering slabs of slate, a "needle’s eye" that opened into a small, hidden grotto sheltered by a natural stone overhang. As the horses came to a halt, the adrenaline began to fade.
Yeosang dismounted first, his movements stiff. He reached up to help the princess down, his hands lingering on her arms for a second longer than necessary to ensure she was steady. The Princess was trembling, she looked around the grotto, her eyes eventually landing on you as you slid off Esme.
She looked at you uneasy, retreating half a step into the shadow of Yeosang’s body.
“Our original route has been deviated. If the Black Guard is following you, we must hide here for at least tonight until it´s safe to continue.”
Princess Yeri slumped against the moss covered wall, her strength finally failing her. Yeosang moved to her side, offering her his water skin with a gentleness that made you confirm he was still the man he had always been.
“Yeri- Princess,” Yeosang led her to sit on one of the mossy rocks inside the grotto. “Tell me what happened.”
You leaned against the stone entrance, your eyes fixed on the darkness outside trying to remember the spell that would seal the entrance to the grotto if someone wanted to come into it, but your ears were tuned to every word spoken in the hollow.
Balling her fists at her sides, Princess Yeri’s voice dropped dangerously low when she said, “You have no idea what it was like in the south, no idea what I’ve endured this past year. Seonghwa sold me… he sold me for wheat!” She started sobbing again, shouting every word, “No one came for me, I feel like I was no longer the princess of Halazia… Theon was cruel, he- he’s a monster.” Her voice breaks and she throws at Yeosang´s arms again.
“Princess, but the crows,” Yeosang started, searching for her eyes and cupping her small head in his hands. “You have sent a crow almost every month telling us how happy you were. Your brother has sent crows back asking you if you want us to visit and you always reply no…”
“Those weren´t mine!” She removed Yeosang´s hands from her and covered her face with her own. “It was him. He didn't want anyone to come, he wanted to keep me in that dark room all the time so he could-“ her voice breaking. “I hate him Sangie please, don't let him find me… I'd rather die than go back.”
You lowered your head, you knew that tone, you could imagine what he had done to her.
“You won't die. Yeri, look at me, if you say he's wronged you I believe you. But please don't blame Seonghwa, he has been fooled by your letters, how can he-”
“He could have gone to see me even if I asked not to, Í'm still princess of Halazia, am I not? Why did he never, Sangie? Why?!”
Yeosang didn't answer immediately. He let the princess pour her frustration. He knew that Seonghwa had been drowning in the slow death of his kingdom, and he was clinging to those forged letters, thinking at least his beloved sister was being taken care of. There were no words that he could say to make the princess consider his brother's feelings, that the King needed to explain himself. He simply held her until her sobs turned to ragged breaths, and finally, until exhaustion claimed her.
You watched as Yeosang placed her carefully on the ground, tucking his cloak and a thick fur around her to shield her from the cave’s cold.
Your heart softened as you watched he still had the tenderness of his old soul.
"You have a remarkably soft heart for a man whose job is to kill," you said softly, without even thinking to mask your admiration.
Yeosang stopped, caught off guard. He cleared his throat, adjusting the leather strap of his gambeson as if it had suddenly become too tight. "She’s the King’s sister," he muttered, though his ears were beginning to turn a faint shade of pink. "It’s my duty to ensure the safety of the royal bloodline."
You stepped closer, tilting your head to catch his eyes in the dim light. "Is it your royal duty to give your cloak on a freezing night? Or to hold her until your arms go numb?” you teased with a smile. “You’ve always been like this, even when you have every reason to be hard, you choose to be kind."
“I have known her since she was a child, she´s like my little sister as well” He replied, looking around to avoid your eyes. "It's nothing special”
"It's very special” your voice turned into a hum and he finally met your eyes. “It´s what made me fall in love with you.”
Yeosang's breath hitched. He looked down at you, the pink flush now creeping up his neck. “You shouldn't say things like that” his voice low. “I´m still trying to remember.”
“Right.” You nodded. Yeosang turned abruptly, pretending to adjust Shadow’s saddle, but you saw the way his fingers fumbled with the leather.
Trying to shove away that moment of vulnerability, you stepped toward the narrow opening of the grotto. The wind outside was picking up, if the Black Guard was after the princess they would track the horses easily.
You reached into your pouch and pulled out a handful of crushed obsidian and dried nightshade. Now, apart from your initial goal of reaching the summit at the mountain, you had to protect the princess. Not just for Halazia, but because Yeosang loved her like a sister, and you could not bear to see him lose anything else.
Standing at the entrance, you began to hum a low, dissonant melody. You traced the outline of the stone entrance with your fingers, leaving a trail of shimmering, oily light in your wake.
"What they see as shadows, what they feel as stone.
Let their eyes wander, leaving the path unknown."
You chanted the spell softly, clearly. When you finished the air at the entrance began to thicken. To anyone outside, the entrance would appear as nothing more than a solid, unbroken slab of mossy slate.
“That should keep them away, at least for tonight.” you exhaled, “We continue first thing tomorrow”
Yeosang nodded. He took a step toward you, gaze dropping to your right hand. "The ring," he breathed, "I saw it. In my memory, it was new. Now... it’s worn."
“More than thirty years have passed since you gave it to me,”
“How are you still-” He cleared his throat. “How have you not…”
“Aged?.”
He nodded again.
“Time kind of froze for me, and now I’m forced to dream about that night everyday.” Yeosang stepped closer. “My life… is on pause, until the curse breaks.”
“All these years,” he mumbled, “You’ve lived the same day? Alone?”
“The same nightmare” you corrected gently. “Watching the trees turn to bone. Watching the sky turn grey with each passing day. Guilt piling up inside me.”
His expression shifted from confusion to a profound, aching sorrow. “I´m sorry,” He whispered, and instantly felt stupid. Like saying he's sorry would fix anything. But you smiled, cupping his face with your right hand, where the silver band adorned your finger.
The moment was interrupted by a soft moan from the back of the grotto. Princess Yeri stirred in her sleep, her hand clutching at the fur cloak Yeosang had wrapped around her.
“We need to move before dawn,” you said, regaining your composure. “The seal can only protect us for a few hours, if the black guard is really out there, they will find us if we remain in a single place.”
“What about our goal? We can't risk the princess by taking her with us.”
“The Stone villa is a couple of days away, you can send a crow there, explain what happened to the King, he can send someone to help her return safely to the kingdom.”
“I must do it myself, If King Theon is after her, I need to be sure she returns safely.”
“We have no time to go back to Halazia and start again, we must take her along then.”
“Fine, we lead the princess to the summit. And when all of this ends, we can all return together.”
A few hours passed. The stillness of the grotto was shattered by a sudden, violent shift in the air. The shimmering veil of your magic suddenly hummed with a high, screeching frequency.
“They´re here.” you heard Yeosang's whisper, already shielding the princess.
A heavy boot slammed into the invisible threshold, and this time, the seal splintered. Violet light cracked across the entrance as the illusion dissolved into smoke. The Black Guard hadn't just found the tracks; they had brought someone capable of breaking your spell.
A warlock. You thought, the veil could have only been spotted by another person holding magic.
Yeosang´s sword was already out. Behind him, the princess scrambled backward, her scream stifled by her own trembling hands.
Six men stepped into the grotto, heavy black armor hanging onto them.
"Step back," Yeosang commanded, his voice low. "You are in Halazian territory, and you are threatening a member of the Royal House. Leave now, and I might let you keep your heads."
“Royal house? You mean the calcified soil and the piled up corpses of dead people?” The leader , a two feet bearded man laughed. “Besides, King Theon doesn't care about borders when it comes to his property.”
“I´m not his property.” Yeri cried from behind Yeosang´s guard.
The man ignored her, and instead focused his eyes over you. “So you were right.,” he said, eyeing the man next to him, who was holding a set of iron chains. “Not only do we get to return the King´s whore back in one piece, but we also got a pet witch for him to play with.” Yeri turned to see you with her eyes wide open at the mention of your kind.
"You will touch neither," Yeosang growled.
"Is that so?" The leader pulled a heavy mace from his belt. The guards began to circle, they weren't just soldiers; they were Theon’s hounds, bred for cruelty. “Let´s see how long you last trying to protect them.”
“Yeosang,” you whispered over his neck. “I´ll protect the princess, but If the warlock get close to me I won't be able to help you.”
He didn't look back, but his shoulders broadened, shielding you both from their sight. "He won't get close enough to try."
The Guard wasted no time and lunged forward with force and precision, trying to trap Yeosang out. He dodged fast as the guard swung his heavy maze towards his head. Yeosang´s style wasn't at all defensive, when he swung his sword towards the men’s neck, he struck to kill.
Two other men launched at him as their leader took another heavy swing aiming for his head, but he swiftly jumped back and stroked his sword against one of them, his blade finding the narrow gap between the guard’s gorget and breastplate. He took it out quickly and as the man fell, Yeosang spun and kicked a second attacker square in the chest, sending him sprawling against the jagged cave wall.
Every time a guard tried to slip past him to reach you or the princess, Yeosang was there, his eyes glowing with a cold, terrifying light.
The leader swung his mace again, the heavy iron whistling through the air. Yeosang caught the blow on the flat of his blade; a masterwork of steel; the force of the strike vibrated through his bones, but adrenaline numbed the shock, preventing him from feeling any pain yet.
He quickly went around the other man attacking him, using him as a shield from another swing of the leader's mace all while slitting his throat. He dropped the guard on top of the other one, facing the leader directly.
“Not bad,” the man laughed. “Now let's fight for real.”
Yeosang’s mouth twisted into a dark smirk. “... you all say the same thing.” Without a second’s hesitation, he lunged. He struck him once, twice and three times quickly, the leader struggling to shield himself with his arm. Yeosang knew their armor was too thick; he needed the throat, and he needed a strike heavy enough to bite through the gorget and end the man’s life.
While Yeosang was holding the front, you quickly shield the princess. She was frozen against the stone cave. The warlock, the one holding cold iron chains, saw an opening. Yeosang was busy fighting two blades at once, so the man threw himself at you at once.
You thrust your hand forward, and a shimmering dome of violet energy erupted around you. When the guard’s iron chains struck the barrier, a shower of white hot sparks flew, the magic beaming as it fought the suppressing metal. The shockwave threw the guard back, his gauntlets smoking.
He groaned, swinging the burning chain back at you.
"Stay behind me!" you commanded, the princess threw herself behind you without hesitation. You were pale, your breath coming in shallow gasps, you didn´t have the energy necessary to throw spells back and forth, but you couldn´t let him harm her.
The leader let out a frustrated roar. He swung his mace at Yeosang’s head again. Yeosang ducked, the heavy iron whistling over his hair, and gave him the opportunity to shove the leader’s head to the ground, pushing his elbow against the man´s neck.
“Halazia will rise, remember that when you reach hell.” He said, his voice low and vibrating with anger. With a sudden, violent stroke, he sunk his blade across the leader's throat. The two remaining guards flee, seeing their leader die. Only the one carrying the iron chains stayed.
“He’ll burn this whole mountain range to find her, you are just giving her more time.” the warlock muttered, he then lunged one last time at you, the iron chains flew directly at your head. You searched for some energy deep within you to create a barrier but before you could summon any, a flash of steel intervened.
Yeosang had caught the chain with his sword. With all his force he yanked the chain towards him, pulling the guard off balance and dragging him into his personal space.
"You speak too much.”
He delivered a brutal, short-range strike with the pommel of his sword directly into the guard’s temple. The man went limp instantly, his head snapping back before he collapsed into a heap at Yeosang’s feet.
And just like that, the grotto got quiet again.
"Are you..." he started, his voice barely a whisper. He dropped his sword, the sound echoing in the small space, and knelt beside you. "Are you hurt? The iron was scolding… did it touch you?"
He reached out, his fingers hovering near the silver ring on your hand. He noticed it was glowing faintly, pulsing like a dying star. For a moment he seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that the Princess of Halazia was sitting right there, watching him with wide eyes.
“I´m alright, Yeosang” you assured, though your head felt dizzy. “Is the princess safe?” you turned to see Yeri with a worried expression.
Yeosang blinked, as if snapping out of a trance.
"Oh, don't mind me, Sangie," the princess said, her voice small but with a sudden sharp mischief Yeosang was very familiar with. She wiped her nose with her sleeve, her gaze darting between his grip on your hands and the blush that tinted his cheeks pink. "I just witnessed a massacre, and now I'm watching you getting flustered over the woman who saved me.”
Yeosang stiffened, his hands jumping away from yours as if they had been burned. "I´m not flustered... If she dies, we won't be able to help our Kingdom."
“A witch? How so?” the Princess asked, frowning as she shook dust from her ruined skirts. “Thank you for saving me, witch.” She smiled at you.
Yeosang turned away to retrieve his sword, pulling a handkerchief to wipe the dark stains from the steel with sharp, agitated strokes. “She knows how to break the curse that has been starving our people.”
Yeri flinched, her gaze snapping to yours with a mix of awe and terror. “A curse? So Sangie was right? My brother has denied it since the day he took the throne. My father always said the witches vanished when he was a boy. He said that the Crown would never permit them to return to Halazia.”
You felt a sharp pinch in your chest at the mention of the late King, Seongjoong. “Witches are like the wind, we are everywhere, even when you choose not to see us. Your grandfather didn't drive us out because we were evil; he drove us out because he was afraid. He fed on the false testimonies of bitter merchants and he demanded we leave. So, we did.”
Yeosang glanced at Yeri who looked at you without malice and more so with immense curiosity.
“If he had allowed them to stay, things might have been less difficult.” you said bitterly.
Princess Yeri frowned, trying to understand.
“Princess, we cannot spare the time to take you to the Kingdom and go back to where we are headed. We must reach the summit to break the curse first. Then, we will all return home together.” Yeosang said.
”If Yeosang trust you, so do I” Yeri replied, “I want to live long enough to see trees grow back in Halazia”
You nodded. A faint smile crept over your lips at Yeosang´s words.
We will all return home together.
After leaving the grotto, you needed to pick up pace and make up for the lost time and deviation you took from meeting the princess. For two days you galloped southwest, until you met the white-barked trees that seemed to lean inward, as if whispering secrets to one another.
“The Wailing Trees” you announced. This was the narrow path to cross before reaching the town where you used to live, the home of the mountain where the curse took place that night.
As the horses picked their way through the deepening snow, the air began to vibrate with a low, mournful thrum.
"Do you hear that?" Yeri whispered, pulling her cloak tighter. She looked pale, her eyes darting toward the twisted branches. "It sounds like... a choir. The trees, they’re crying."
Yeosang didn't answer. He was staring straight ahead, his knuckles white around the reins. His jaw tense. He wasn't just hearing a choir; he was hearing a voice… yours.
“You promised me. You said you’d find your way back. Were all these years not enough time?”
“Don't listen!" you shouted. “It´s an illusion, the trees are trying to break your spirit!”
Yeosang flinched as if he’d been struck. He looked at you, his eyes wide and haunted, searching your face to see if your lips matched what he was hearing. You knew the voices were the manifestations of the guilt and grief that fed the curse. They followed you everywhere and now that Yeosang was here, they intensified.
You got closer to him, Yeri looking at your eye-sided seating in front of him. “Yeosang, It’s the mountain, the curse is following me and it's now using you too, please listen to me not them.” Yeosang looked at you with hollow eyes, his mind was somewhere else.
You turned to see that Yeri was sobbing now, leaning over leaning over Shadow´s neck. "He sounds so lonely... my brother sounds so cold..."
“No! Princess you must not listen…”
You pushed Esme forward, placing yourself between them and the thickest part of the grove. You raised your hand, the silver ring catching the grey light, and began a low, steady chant to dull their senses.
"Listen to my voice!" you commanded, looking directly at them. "Look at me, not the shadows. We are almost through!"
Yeosang’s gaze locked back on yours. He shook his head and immediately helped Yeri sit again, cupping her face and helping wake up. “Princess I'm here, it's Sangie… come back.”
"Sangie…" she rasped, her breath hitching. "I'm scared."
Beyond the grove of the Wailing Trees, the path led into a hidden valley, protecting it from the biting mountain winds. A village appeared, frozen in a state of eerie, perfect preservation. Your old home.
“What is this place? Are we still in Halazia?” the princess asked with wonder, seated in front of Yeosang as the whole small village came into view from the hilltop where you were standing.
“Still Halazia,” you smiled. “Is at the very end of the Kingdom, and that is what we came for.” You signaled to the summit, looking big and white on the horizon, sheltering the little village.
Yeosang´s chest tightened. He could feel the memories tied up to him from this place. But his mind refused to picture them just yet.
As you walked down the hill and into the heart of the forgotten villa, you noticed every house stood as it did all those years ago. A wooden bucket sat by a dry well; a child’s carved horse lay on a porch; laundry, now stiff and bleached white by decades of frost, still hung on lines.
Without stopping you recognized a familiar Mahogany door by the end of the path. Your old house.
“It is a ghost town” Yeri said astonished, dismounting from Shadow and heading up to the main path, peeking through the dusted windows to look inside the houses. “They must have left to find healthier soil when our home started dying…”
“This was a village of mostly warlocks and witches,” you corrected. “They left when King Seongjoong declared that people with magic weren't allowed.”
“Oh,” Yeri looked at you embarrassed. “I´m sorry.”
You dismounted Esme and walked up to her, softening your gaze. “It wasn't your fault,” It was mine. You added in thought.
After a humble dinner of warm soup and bread, You agreed to gather energy for a couple of days in the village before going to the summit. Yeosang managed to gather a couple of buckets of water from the old well. Thankfully a simple spell turned it into clean usable water so all you three could clean yourselves. After that, Yeri had finally fallen into a deep sleep in one of the preserved cottages, so you went to the old communal stable to tend to Esme while Yeosang sent a crow to the King back in Halazia, telling him about the past week´s events.
Inside the stable, Shadow slept over the straw, finally catching up with some deserved rest. You were brushing your mare's coat with slow, rhythmic strokes, the sound of the brush stroking her fine hairs the only sound in the quiet.
Some time later, Yeosang appeared in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the silver moonlight. He didn't speak. He simply watched you. You had removed your hood and cloak, and your hair flowed over your shoulders like a river. In the dim light, with the familiar walls of the stable around you, he felt as if the long years gap seemed to vanish.
As you reached up to check Esme's ear, your sleeve slid back, revealing the silver ring. You paused, leaning your forehead against the horse's neck, a sigh escaping your lips. "We're so close, I'm going to m-”
Suddenly Yeosang stood beside you, his boots silent on the straw. He stopped just inches away. This time, he didn't hesitate. He reached out and placed his hand over yours, pinning it gently against the mare’s side.
His touch felt like burning, the kind you liked.
His eyes flared, and he gasped. This time he didn't just see a memory; he felt it. He felt the heat of that summer afternoon at the pier, the weight of the braided silver wire in his pocket. He felt the terrifying, beautiful rush of blood in his veins when you had said yes.
When he snapped back, his eyes were filled with tears. He pulled you around to face him, his hands sliding up to cup your face with a desperation that broke your heart. "I promised to marry you…”
You stood in his arms, the tears you had held back for all these years finally spilling over. He took your hands, placing them over his face. And you could finally feel his skin. His warmth, icy breath as he rested his forehead against yours.
Yeosang stroked your hands softly, like fearing you would break against his harsh touch. A flood of images crashed into his mind- you, squinting at a spell book by candlelight; the scent of warm bread as you pressed a loaf into his hands before he rode off to his duties. Your soft breast against his chest on top of him, lips over your neck while you roamed your fingers through his disheveled hair.
As you stood in front of him, he felt desperate to feel your warmth; to crush you beneath him and hear you cry his name and make you feel all of him; to make you feel so good unlike anyone you had before.
He was out of control.
Gasping for air, he embraced you in a hug, you dug your nails on his back, not wanting him to let you go never again. “Why did you suffer alone all these years? Why couldn't we stay together?” He asked, voice trembling.
You cried silently, his cloudy gaze over you. You wished to tell him everything, but knew he needed to remember the bad parts as well. You faced him, and leaned to brush his lips, not yet daring to claim them yet, so when he was the one to start kissing you, you finally let go, surrendering into his touch.
The kiss started softly, but quickly picked up a pace that had you moaning softly onto his lips, his hands over your neck and you felt your body tremble. Yeosang's hands went down to roam over your waist, brushing the sides of your hips hesitantly. “Can I?” he asked nervously, making you smile widely at his lips, his gentleness softening your heart.
“Only if you really want me.” you replied, your voice came in a hum that let him know you were ready for whatever he needed from you.
“I do.” Yeosang kissed you again, swiftly sliding a hand from under your skirt, palming the curve of your ass, lifting your leg enough to make way for his fingers to span all the way to caress between your aching heat. After some teasing, he effortlessly slips two fingers inside you, your wetness giving him easy access.
You feel the pressure echoing through all your body. All those years longing for him, wanting to feel him again had you turn into a puddle and you waste no time letting him feel all of you, already so wet that he slides all the way in until you can feel his knuckles against your folds, brushing along your clit. Your eyes close, feeling the pleasure of his fingers roaming inside you as he continues to kiss you like making up from the time you waited. He crocks his fingers and you moan against his lips.
Just as you remember, Yeosang doesn´t talk much, but his cloudy gaze stays in your face, breathing hastily just watching you enjoy his touch. Your nails dig into his forearm feeling the muscles shift under your fingers as he flexes inside you.
Desperate, you remove his hand and push him a little back against the wooden table behind him. You quickly remove his cloak and what remained of his upper armor. The black fabric of his linen garment unlaced, letting you see his toned chest and abs that had you seeing stars. You rushed through his trousers, hurriedly shoving them down. Yeosang lets out a groan when you take his length and stroke it with your palm, running your hand down to the tip.
He grabs your neck, kissing it again as his cock rubs against your stomach. You breathe out, feeling how ready he is for you. Next he wraps his hands from under your thighs, lifting and turning to sit you onto the table. He moans softly into your mouth when you spread yourself for him, and he wastes no time to align himself within your folds. He pushes painfully slow and groans loudly as you wrap around him so warmly, he feels numb and in ecstasy all the same. He is rocking against you with force, leaning into your neck taking in your scent, and you cling onto his shoulder, letting yourself be taken over.
You arch your back, pressing yourself more against him, cause even having him this close isn’t enough. When he's not buried in your neck he's watching you with pleading eyes, as if taking them off you would make you vanish. He stops for a second, lifting you again from the edge of the table to adjust. Your dress slowly slips from your shoulders, letting your breasts exposed and he leans to kiss and bite them, sending little sparks of pain.
Your eyes are dark, fixed on him, on every part of him where he is touching you. Yeosang starts moaning more and more, now he's sliding a hand under your thigh and then he hikes your leg up higher, making you gasp as he slips almost all the way out only to bottom you one more time. And another, and another…
He's going fast, but when he feels like it´s too much he slows down, trying to keep himself inside you longer. “Yeosang,” you mumble, and he brushes his lips over yours. The burning stretch of him feels so good, with every stroke he places himself deeper and deeper feels like he's claiming you again, just like you remembered.
You thought you had missed him before, but now with the taste of him in your tongue, the sounds he makes reverberating on your throat makes you realize maybe you didn’t miss him enough.
The knot inside you is growing, burning, aching to burst. The curse, the time wasted away, the loneliness all is forgotten as he pounds into you like that was the only thing he had left to do in this world. Yeosang goes back to your lips again, and your heart and heat start to flutter. His tongue savouring every inch of your mouth, his thrust hitting your sweet spot… it all feels unreal as he bites your lip and his thumb goes down to rub your clit with circular motions. You moan loudly, the star in your lower stomach exploding, and everything goes white.
You come back to your senses slowly, realizing Yeosang has come along with you.
Yeosang is panting, again resting his forehead over yours, sweat drops making his dark locks frame his face. You were damped as well, chest and neck glistening. You remain still, breathing heavily against each other. You can feel him softening inside you.
He breaks the hug and smiles softly, and you caress his neck. You rested for a few moments before he finally pulled out.
“I hope I wasn't too bad” He admits shyly, "It's been a while since I-” but he stops, not sure you wanted to hear he had been with other women before. But you laugh, kissing him sweetly again.
“You think you did bad?” you teased and he pursed his lips. “I’m a panting mess, and I can feel your seed still dripping out of me.” He scoffs, looking flustered and you try to lock the memory into your brain. You wanted to remember him as the gentle and reserved knight who got shy everytime you fucked. “Let´s rest, tomorrow we'll reach the summit and all of this will be over.”
He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer. Scanning your eyes, he brushed his thumb against your chin. “Don´t let me lose you again, please.” he whispered, and you gave a kiss that tasted bittersweet.
The next morning when you woke up, for the first time in all these years, the air didn't taste of dry ash.
Yeosang was still deep in sleep, his arm draped firmly over your waist. He was tucked against your back, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his steady, warm breath reminding you that he was truly there.
The night before was a beautiful rediscovery that had brought your senses back to life. His touch had finally made you feel alive again. So you tried to make this moment last a little longer, cause by the time Yeosang reached the top of the summit, the fog in his mind would disappear. By the time he knew your name, in that last moment you would think of the previous night, and be thankful at least you had been loved once more in the place where it all began.
“Hmm,” Yeosang finally woke up, he brushed his fingers over your stomach, adjusting himself beside you and pulling you tighter against him. “You awake?” he whispered into your ear and it sent shivers to your whole body.
“I am,” you turned to see him, his drowsy eyes trying to focus on you. “Are you alright?” you asked, wondering if he got any memories back while he was sleeping.
“I´m nervous…” he admitted, sitting up and hovering over you. “Last night, I hope I didn't cross any line.”
“Last night I felt alive again. Thank you for that, Yeosang”
He smiled softly, leaning to place a gentle kiss. He was about to deepen the kiss if not for the door of the cottage opening suddenly.
“There you are… oh!” Yeri turned embarrassed. “I hope I didn't disturbed anything. I'll just wait by the horses until you finish…” and then she closed the door harshly, the sound of her boots fading as she sprinted further away.
Both of you laughed. Yeosang caught you for one last, lingering kiss before changing back himself into his armor. You did the same, slipping your garments as you felt his gaze follow your every move from the corner of his eye. He admired how beautiful you looked, whether you were chanting a spell, commanding your horse through the mist or breathless and soft beneath him.
As you stepped out of the cottage, the air was cold and icy. The heavy, somber atmosphere of the previous days had lifted, replaced by a fragile, morning bright hope.
Though it was going to be brief, you felt at peace at that moment.
Yeri was taking out Shadow from the stable. She looked at you and then glanced at Yeosang who walked beside you with big confused eyes. “Already?.”
“Princess.” Yeosang snapped. “We were just sleeping.”
“And why are you blushing?…” She rolled her eyes at Yeosang, then glanced at you with compliant eyes and you couldn´t help but chuckle.
This was a rather wholesome moment, a sweet treat before everything that will ensue.
“Let´s get going, if we don't stop, we'll reach by noon.”
"To the summit," Yeosang said, grabbing your hand and brushing his thumb against your palm.
"To the summit," Yeri echoed, taking your free hand and squeezing tight.
The golden warmth of the morning was stripped away as you reached the base of the mountain. The air grew thin and biting. Yeosang didn’t take his eyes off you for a second, his gaze tracking your every breath. Yeri, seated in front of him on Shadow, noticed how often your hand drifted to your chest, pressing against your heart as if trying to keep it from leaping out.
“I’m alright,” you insisted, though your voice was strained. “It’s just... I’ve waited so long to stand here. My senses are piling up.”
“We can stop. We can turn back and try again tomorrow,” Yeosang urged.
“Every hour we wait is another hour Halazia starves,” you said, forcing a confident smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “It´s been enough.” You urged Esme forward, and though they followed, Yeosang’s watchful gaze remained on you.
After a couple of hours, you finally could spot the summit’s obsidian altar. Anxiety hit you hard, and just before you could move forward, the sound of a horn, harsh and dissonant, tore through the silence. From the shadows, a bunch of riders emerged, their black-and-gold coats standing out like blood on the snow. At their center sat a man on a massive, charcoal-grey stallion. He didn't wear a helmet, and his crown was a band of dark iron that seemed to press into his brow.
King Theon.
He was not the hulking brute his reputation suggested. He was strikingly handsome, bright golden hair that caught the winter light and features so soft they seemed almost angelic. His eyes were a startling, clear blue, a shocking contrast to the monster that he was inside.
Yeri gasped, freezing in place. Yeosang´s grip on his sword and the other on the princess' forearm.
"A touching reunion," Theon drawled, his voice carrying effortlessly over the mountain pass. "My runaway wife, King Seonghwa´s commander, and…” He looked at you with ill intent. “A mountain witch.”
Yeosang shifted instantly, placing himself in front of the princess and you, his hand already white on the hilt of his blade. "She is the Princess of Halazia, and she is under my protection."
"So she's under your protection?," Theon mocked, his gaze sliding over Yeosang to fix on you. "And as for the witch… is she not?."
“I can protect myself.” you countered, your hand open in direction to the south King.
“You are threatening a King, witch.” Theon said, his voice a melodic purr that made your skin crawl. You knew exactly what he was. His lineage didn't just rule with cruelty, they collected anything they deemed unworthy of being human. His house was famous for collecting stolen magic, slaves kept in iron and silk for the amusement of the Southern lords. They used people until they were empty shells and then threw them away.
That would have been your destiny all those years ago. A different kind of curse.
The King then signals his guards to advance.
Cold iron archers aim directly at you. Theon watched with a placid smile, leaning back in his saddle as if he were observing a theater performance rather than an execution.
You didn´t have time to think. As the arrows neared, you threw your arms wide, the silver ring on your finger glowing with such intensity that the metal turned translucent. You felt the mountain's raw power surge up through your boots, a cold, vibrating hum that met the fire in your blood.
Gathering all the energy on your body you slammed your hands together. A massive dome of violet energy erupted from the snow, expanding with a thunderous crack. The arrows struck the barrier and disintegrated into fine gray ash. Theon’s guards lunged forward with their cold-iron chains, swinging them against the shimmering wall.
"Stay inside the circle, princess!" you shouted, your voice echoing with force that made Yeri snap from his frozen state. The fear she felt seeing her deranged husband disappearing, and a new sensation of survival fueled by your voice enveloped her.
Yeosang reacted immediately to your opening, quickly helping Yeri to mount on top of Esme, urging Shadow to go forward. He moved with ease, the short distance between him and the golden King became smaller. He swung his sword to the two men guarding Theon´s front, striking over their chests in a swift motion.
Theon’s soft features finally shifted. His pleasant smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating mask as he drew a slender, ornate sword and pointed directly at Yeosang.
“Northen people, always so sentimental.”
Yeosang countered, his blade moving in a blur of strikes. Theon jumped off his horse, blade moving like a needle, seeking the gaps in Yeosang's armor, but Yeosang fought like a man possessed by blood.
From your end, the barrier groaned as more guards threw themselves against it, their iron shackles smoking as they tried to break it. Your vision began to blur at the edges, creating the shield draining your very life force, but you held. You looked at Yeosang's back, and you refused to let the light flicker.
But the black guard was persistent.
Your shield reaches its limit, shattering like glass as three guards slammed their cold iron chains against the surface simultaneously. The backlash was violent; the magic snapped, throwing you backward as the silver ring on your finger turned a dull, charcoal gray.
With your remaining strength you stood up and whispered in Esme's ear a brief spell in a forgotten language. Yeri on top of her instinctively reached for the reins with force when Esme let out a piercing whinnage, reared back, and bolted toward the steep, hidden path leading back down the summit.
“Go!, don't look back!” you shouted, as the guards swarmed you, their gauntleted hands bruising your arms as they pressed your head against the snow covered dirt.
“No!” Yeosang screams trying to reach you. He had Theon pinned, his blade at the King’s throat, but the sound of your shield breaking caused him to falter. He turned his head for a fraction of a second, giving Theon just enough time to land an iron-weighted blow into Yeosang’s temple and kick his sword across the ice.
Yeri's escape set the guards in motion to chase after her, but Theon shouted before they could mount again. “Let her, we´ll get to them shortly.”
Yeosang´s blood boiled. He felt drunk on violence. Theon was now placing the sharp edge of his blade over his neck. He growled, trying to get off the King´s grip when a guard gripped your hair, jerking your head back so you were forced to look at them, while another struck you across the face with a heavy, iron-lined glove. The world spun. Blood bloomed in your mouth, metallic and hot.
"Look, commander" Theon sneered, grabbing Yeosang by the hair to force his eyes toward you. "Look what happens when you mess with my property." The guard struck you again, and as you collapsed forward, the sight of your blood hitting the white snow acted as a final, jagged key in Yeosang’s mind.
He was no longer there under Theon’s blade. His mind has traveled to another place.
It started blurry, but the memory slowly regained its focus as he saw you walking down the familiar dirt path toward your cottage, clutching a bundle of fresh mountain sage.
In the memory, you reached the door of your home, but the air felt wrong. Inside, your father sat at the scarred oak table, a heavy purse of Southern coin spilling over the wood. Opposite him stood a merchant with a rough face and predatory eyes.
The man stood up. “The south pays well for her kind. My wagon leaves at midday.”
With not another word he passed you by and left. You turned to your father with terrified eyes. “What have you done?.” you asked, your voice dry.
“You will work hard in the south. You'll help the King there and fulfill your duty,” He paused, looking you in the eyes. “For whatever they want you to be.” He said bitterly, still recalling your mother's abandonment every time he sees you.
“I will not.”
“I already have the King's approval, you have no say in this.” He took his horned mug, drinking the remainder of the cheap rum in one go. “Tomorrow. Midday."
Yeosang's heart sank. You were not even in the same room, but he could hear your thoughts as if they were his own.
Still in the memory, you stood still, shaking with anger. And you thought of him. Though it was a different name, Yeosang knew it was him.
He saw you run out of the cottage, and you went looking for him. You ran all over the village, but couldn't find him. You then decided to return home, not to stay and wait for your doom the next day, but to prepare for something that would fix it. You waited enough until your father fell asleep over the wooden table, his face buried in the coin pouch he traded you for.
Yeosang saw you frantically looking for your book of spells. But this was a different book from the one he saw you read many times. You quickly searched through its pages, until you found what you needed. Throwing some things into your leather pouch, you slipped out, boots stomping into the cold night, not stopping until you reached the mountain and began the long climb to the top, the same mountain you were on right now in the present.
Once there, you laid out everything you had collected back in your house. This magic didn't require anything specific, only the warmth of blood and true desperation. Yeosang watched you expertly snag some rabbits from the brush, painting faint, crimson stains across their small throats. “Forgive me.” You whispered as you did. You then took out a small blackened pot, and threw the blood along with turmeric, lavender, and silver dust. Wiping your bloody hands on your skirt.
As the brew began to boil, the steam rose, hot, forbidden. Yeosang could feel how it went through your lungs until your chest ached. You knew it was your only chance. If you failed tonight, there would be no tomorrow.
Under the moonlight, the broth began to boil over, the scent of what emanated from it running through your nose and filling your lungs, making your chest ache. You grabbed the bronze cup from the pouch, and dipped it into the searing liquid. You forced down the bitter, burning heat until the last drop was gone.
Then, you chanted.
The words were heavy, vibrating. When you finished, there was nothing but the sound of your own ragged breathing. Silence reigned. And you thought the summoning had failed.
Yeosang felt more and more empty as the memory ran through his own mind. He wanted to hold you, he wanted to know why he hadn´t been there when you searched for him.
Then, the wind struck like a physical blow. The fire beneath the pot died instantly, leaving everything in absolute darkness. And in that hollow silence, a low voice; cold and deep; spoke inside your mind. And now Yeosang could hear it too.
“Speak,” it commanded. “What is the favor you seek?”
Your mind went blank, tears were already falling. When you spoke, your voice cracked, faint and scared.
“Wise Gods.” You whispered into the void inside your head. “I ask you for just one thing. I love one man. Yet another, one who seems to hold power over me, plans to ruin my life and tear me from everything I hold dear. I ask that he feel the weight of the agony I carry. Let him suffer as I will suffer if his commands come true.”
You paused. Just for a heartbeat, you stopped to see if the gods were listening, your naivety leading you to believe they would wait for you to finish your thought.
That had been your mistake.
You had intended to ask for your father to feel the pain you were about to endure, so the merchant would go empty-handed. But the Gods do not understand hesitation. They took your silence as finality. Then a brutal coldness bloomed along your spine, a pressure so heavy it felt as though an invisible hand was pinning you.
‘It is done. So long as his bloodline wears the crown, the land he rules shall perish. Thirst and hunger shall be the legacy of his house.’
You snapped her eyes open.
You shook your head.
“What does that mean?” Yeosang saw you cry, searching the shadows for a shape, a sign, anything “Bloodline? No, that´s not what I wanted…” you cried and tried to reach for an invisible shape around. But you were alone in your own mind once more.
“I already have the King's approval, you have no say in this.”
That's what your father had said.
`So long as his bloodline wears the crown, the land he rules shall perish. Thirst and hunger shall be the legacy of his house.´
That´s what the Gods had promised.
You felt like choking on your own breathing. And Yeosang could feel it too.
‘“No… What have I done?...” you had whispered to the rising sun.
But this time no God answered.
Yeosang came back to the present moment with a choking breath. He looked for you, his vision blurred by the blood falling over his eyes, running down from his temple. Another dry blow to his head making him hit the icy ground.
You gasped, coughing up a spray of crimson that stained the pristine snow. Theon walked over you, his blonde hair glowing against the bright white sky, hand reaching down to grip your chin. “Such a beautiful broken thing. Now, you belong to the Southern Crown."
You grunted, ignoring him, eyes looking forward trying to spot Yeosang. Theon took a grey dagger from his belt, pressing it against your neck. He was consumed by his own cruelty that he didn't notice the shift in the air.
Yeosang didn't just break free; he exploded.
As the guards tightened their grip, Yeosang drove his elbows back with bone-shattering force, hitting both men in the ribs. He didn't reach for a sword. He launched himself at Theon with all his might.
The King noticed too late. Before he could plunge the dagger into you, Yeosang’s hand clamped around his wrist. The blonde scream echoed as his bones snapped under Yeosang’s grip. The dagger slipped from his fingers and Yeosang caught it mid air. With a roar, he pinned Theon’s throat with one hand, his face inches from the King's terrified, perfect features.
"This is for the Kingdom Halazia," Yeosang countered, his blade slowly pressing on the King´s throat. "And this is because you dared to touch her.” Theon's face turned pale and slick with sweat, blood shot eyes just as Yeosang twisted the blade and finished him.
He looked up to see the guards lunging for him, but before he could move to defend himself, you rose from the snow. A sharp incantation tore from your throat in a language Yeosang didn´t understand. The guards froze mid stride, their bodies locking in place before their necks snapped in a sickening, synchronized crack, maneuvered by an invisible hand.
That final attack drained the last of your strength, and your knees buckled. Yeosang caught you before you hit the ice, pulling you tightly into his arms. With trembling hands, he drew a clean handkerchief, his touch agonizingly gentle as he began to dab the blood from your lips and chin.
“We need to get to the altar, please, we are close to ending it.” you muttered, your voice nothing but a frail whisper.
“You´re too weak,”
“Yeosang, please, we need to go together. We break it, and then–”
“Then we go home.” His voice breaking. He could see it in your eyes already, the sorrow and the sacrifice. “Say it, we return to the Kingdom together.”
You threw your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He lifted you up, carrying you the few steps left to reach the obsidian altar. You looked up at him, memorizing the shine in his eyes and the way his hair framed his face. "Yeosang," you breathed.
“Mmh?” He hums, carefully putting you down in front of the ash stain at your feet. Time avoided to erase the remnants of that faithful night.
"There is only one way the curse ends.”
“Tell me what I need to do.” When your eyes darkened, his smile faltered, a terrible realization crept in his gaze. "No. No, we found a way back. You said…"
You pulled him down into a kiss, deep, desperate from all the years of longing. It tasted of salt and the lavender of your youth, of your old life. In the heat of that embrace, his memory finally clicked into its final, perfect shape.
He saw himself that night. The night you couldn´t find him.
He saw himself riding back to the Village after a few days in the castle. But as he entered the shadow of the Wailing Trees, the path was blocked. He was then flanked by the merchant and five armored mercenaries.
He stopped, hand on his sword.
“Who are you?” He had asked, but the mercenaries wasted no time. They all lunged. They couldn't let him reach the village and let you find him. Yeosang fought like a lion, his blade a blur of silver in the dim forest light. He took down three, but he was exhausted from his journey and outnumbered.
A spear caught him in the side and he fell over the damp leaves. As he gasped for air, looking up at the twisted branches, the eerie hoot of an owl echoed through the woods. He tried to crawl, trying to reach for his sword, but the merchant stepped forward and drove a dagger into his chest, silencing him.
When he was back in the summit, embracing you tightly, he sobbed against your lips, your name finally crossing the bridge of his heart.
He said it once...
And again...
And again...
Your chest grew bigger, your heart racing at impossible speed just before the final crash. It felt warm, like his voice. Warm honey running through your throat, touching and making every part of you feel plenty.
Yeosang brushed his lips against your forehead, your cheekbones, your nose and finally your lips. You took his face and pressed into the kiss, softly and slowly. Smiling, with little strength you whispered your last spell, one that would help him regain his strength for the journey back.
“Did you try to hex me while we were kissing?” He smiled against your lips, his tears landing over your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and Yeosang could feel his heart shrinking. “I will never forget you. Never.”
"Thank you for remembering me," you finally whispered.
Your skin began to shimmer, turning into a deep, vibrant violet. Your fingers didn't feel like bone anymore; they felt like silk. Slowly, beautifully, you began to dissolve. You weren't breaking, you were blooming. From your feet upward, you turned into thousands of tiny, fragrant dry lavender leaves, swirling in the mountain breeze.
Yeosang reached out, but he was left holding only a pile of purple petals that settled into the snow. He cried silently, burying his face in the blossoms. There he saw the glimmer of something shining below the leaves. The silver band you wore all those years, the promise of the love you shared. The lavender leaves now in the place where the obsidian ash stood before.
But then, the air grew sweeter and thick with the scent of a summer meadow despite being clearly winter. He felt a sudden warmth inside.
Perhaps hope.
He stayed there for a long time, whispering your name into the flowers until his voice failed him.
Eventually, he had to go back down the mountain. When he reached the old village, he met the princess, standing beside Esme, who let out a low, mournful nicker as he approached.
Yeri´s sad and anxious eyes found him. And she felt incredibly hollow.
“Where is she?."
Yeosang smiled, but the princess noticed the sorrow over his eyes. “The curse is gone, we can go back home.” he mumbled. Then he turned to Esme, caressing the mare´s head. “She loved you so much. She saved you as well.”
Yeri's tears began to fall and they hugged for a while.
Yeosang let Yeri ride Shadow, and he mounted Esme, your mare´s grace embracing yours.
Together, they began the long ride back to a Kingdom that would never know cold or hungry, ever again.
@mingsolo please do not repost/translate to other sites.
🧚♀️✨The MILF Theory (And Why The Internet Got It Wrong) by pucksandpower ✨🧚♀️
in which Ilya’s boyfriend's mother keeps adopting him, the internet keeps assuming the worst, and Shane Hollander is having the worst month of his entire life. At least until he does something that breaks hockey forever.
words: 13.8k
tw: none
note: when I tell you I was CACKLING the whole time whilst reading this. CACKLING! 😂🫶🏻
🧚♀️ find more heated rivalry fics here 🧚♀️
✨if the author has tumblr, please let me know so I can tag their blog✨
preaching to the choir by piesexuality
Rating: Teen and Up
Word count: 8k
“So, tell us—are you a religious man?”
Steve grimaces. "It's, um. Complicated. Very complicated."
or,
There's no way Castiel lived that close to BYU-Idaho without running into some Mormon missionaries.
There’s nothing like a good outsider POV and, when that outsider POV is a couple of young ladies who are Mormon missionaries, you’re in for a fun time.
The dramatic irony when the missionaries talk to Steve the Gas n’ Sip employee is very amusing. The conversation he’s having is completely different from theirs. Cas’s dry sense of humour is used well here. Then they walk outside and meet a man pumping gas into his vintage car and…
Well, you’ll have to see for yourself.
Let’s just say that these two accidental Mormon matchmakers do a pretty good job at bringing Dean and Cas together. And they’re hilariously oblivious while doing it.
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A Servant or a Slave?
Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, F/M, 13k
“You couldn’t do me a favour, could you?” he asks. A little too intensely to come off casually, his lips pursed seriously, syphoning the sting from the defiance. “Let Arthur know? He still thinks of me as an underachiever, but I’m quite proud of those accomplishments. I can die happy.”
Ignoring his snark, Morgana murmurs, “Oh, you’re not going to die. Oh, no.” She leans in close, breathing in the scent of petrichor lingering from the rainwater she doused him with. “I gave up trying. I want company. I suppose I thought, who better than the annoying little pest of a servant who has evaded death so many times?” Her grin is sharp, lethal. “You just won’t die, Merlin, so I won’t grant you the freedom. You’ll watch as Camelot falls, prisoner in the humble abode you drove me to.” Slowly, her hand rises to brush the pads of her fingers across one sharp cheekbone. Gently, but at such an angle that her long nails carve thin white lines into the flesh.
For perhaps the first time since she’s known him, Merlin remains silent.
Somehow this became a fix-it of sorts, but fear not - it's still twisted. Morgana and Merlin should eat each other alive, honestly.
🧚♀️✨wired a little different by Adrenochrome✨🧚♀️
Shane was, unfortunately, painfully aware of his autism, regardless of his perceived level of function. Only his parents and his psychiatrist know, as it is something he has guarded from the world for fear of judgment. But now he is ready to share his secret with Ilya.
words: 3.4k
tw: none
note: Shane my little baby sharing himself with Ilya! Those boys just love each other so much!
✨if the author has tumblr, please let me know so I can tag their blog✨
