ryvxn

[ryvxn]

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‟ ⌜ 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧. 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗘 ⌟.

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝗽. 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 . daphne soo

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀. #daphnerkive

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. implied suicide

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. black pearl, n.o.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲. unknown

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ There is always the same visions of cemeteries, slow funerals, broken tombs. Every time and anytime, death designing all. The moon slips from a silver mist with star-bound brow and star-wreathed wrist. It allows the light to reflect a visionary reflection on the mare ― on the sea, over the cold stones of graves or the forgotten bones. ― and often, she is a blossom in a garden. she fades and then a reaper whose name is Death comes to get a few to help him make a bouquet for himself.

This time, Death comes in the eye of a huntsman, under the spell of forced sentiments and at the edge of a weapon. It claims her vessel without a second hesitation ― because what death claims, it does not abandon.

This time, she does not wait for it to call her name though, she welcomes it. Because she can not stop for Death but he kindly has stopped for her. The carriage holds but just themselves and Immortality.

The edge of her heel holding the wood of pier, eyes looks at the man that holds various sentiments in his pair. Yet, she does not see him. What she sees is a well ― a reflection of her own well.

𝘔𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 ��𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵.

𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬.

𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘈 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘥.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚.

The ocean opens her like a flower ― a poor flower, of course, unfortunately, who has given up waiting for the terrible delicacy of spring. The blue of the sky falls over her like silk and her flesh burns under the cold touch of the water. Ironic, how they warn children about the fire but never say water has the worse flames ― it burns slowly and brings hell to the world of the living.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝘪𝘯?

She thinks of bones burning, the smoke trapped beneath her skin. The careless fingertips that linger over the blood of her enemies, flickers of screams left behind, made her wonder about the distance of the lungs to the lips. She wonders about quite a lot of things lately but often leaves them unanswered because if she ever does, she would believe them. ― and so, she just shrugs with a simple, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, flowing from her lips.

Her fall into the ocean is long. Inside her ribcage, the last minutes of moonlight still linger, breath and silver through the darkening blue. Her eyes are closed and her lips in a thin line, she hears whispers of deities ― and she does not believe in them because Gods do not speak, they belong to silence. Yet, one of them speaks with her and under the depth of water, Daphne hears her.

𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝘛𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳.

Yet, when she opens her eyes, she does not have to hold her breath. Under the water where a human can hear nothing, she hears the song of water and whispers of livings. She sees the reflection of light, the many colours hidden in it.

A slow intake of breath ― and then, it is in her, secrecy. Ancient and vicious, luscious as dark velvet. It blooms in her like a poppy made of ink. The fragrance of rage and hatred quite sweet in her senses ― and alluring song in her lips.

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵���𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦

𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙚

She meets the huntsman, her Death a month after the incident. Shadows are alive in her eyes and she makes sure that he sees them as well. There are flowers in his body, pale, perfectly imagined. He is breathless, holding his fear in his clenched fists as he listens to her song ― and her questions.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙎𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴? „

She watches him swallow carefully. Words create a mound in his throat and he refuses to let them be free. Instead, he pauses, slowly shrugging off the trap of potions and coherent melodies.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡, 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧. „

And so, she sings her way to Death, a slow hymn of a nightmare at the tip of her tongue.

𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘢 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦

She sings because no shelter has Apollo, nor sacred laurel leaves. The fountains are now silent; the voice is stilled.

It is 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‟ Disclaimer. This is the song Daphne sings in her siren form. I also used many quotes so if you recognise any of them, thank you. Mare ("sea" in Latin) is "dark areas of the moon," and once believed to be actual oceans. So, nightmare here means a night in sea or a frightening or unpleasant dream. Time is unknown because it can be any night in the sea or simply, a nightmare.

[ryvxn]

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‟ ⌜ 𝗧𝗢. 𝗚𝗘𝗧. 𝗛𝗘𝗥 ⌟.

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝗽. 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 . kim yihwa

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀. #daphnerkive

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. human sacrifice

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. seorabeol, silla

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲. 554 ― 579

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ There was a moment in her childhood when she looked at her mother and her eyes reflected and came back to her as light. Her whole being was illuminated and her adoration towards the older woman became sharp. Too sharp that she did not know which one of them would get hurt first. Instead, the firstborn of the monarch locked her gaze on the mirror and watched the dethroned queen brush her hair with trembling hands. Her fragile-looking arms later hugged the child close to her bosom and she sat there for hours in complementation of the loud sound in her mind. Then, she let go of her own flesh and bone and reached for an ancient-looking jar ― one inherited to her from her ancestors, holy shamans of Silla.

The warm bosom where the child's head rested just seconds ago embraced the empty jar by then. The dethroned queen's eyes locked at nonexistence, she uttered words her daughter could not understand before she finally spared a look at the abandoned princess.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ Now, you can die. „ She said calmly and reached forward to place a gentle smooch at the child's temple. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ And when you are dead, I will cut out your heart and lay it in this beautiful jar. For then everything will be as it was then. „

There was a moment in her childhood when she looked at her mother and saw in her face the forest and the sea. However, it took her ten years to notice in Wolseong Palace, the sea was the blood and the forest was the sharp weapons the cut through the flesh and bones. Her mother's face held both of them as she grasped a dagger near her hand and draw a long line that brought along eternal pain. The scar on her flesh would vanish later on but the memory in her soul held the seed like starveling earth and refused to let go. Not until it bloomed and another pain pulled it out from its roots.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ It won't hurt, Yihwa. Your death will give me my throne back. „

She was terribly young when the Hwarang soldiers walked into the chamber. The little one thought they are there to save her from the demon who possessed her mother and almost sighed in relief. Instead, one of them picked her up as if she was the worthless feather dropped by a bird and held her so close to take her back. ― and all this time, her mother's screams filled the chamber and the garden where withered flowers played the deaf.

Every natural object has a spirit. Although, Buddhism was recognized as Silla's central religious belief from the early sixth century, when the incidents that books and scholars failed to explain happened, the monarch ran to shamans and charlatans, who claimed to hear the desire of heavens and see the spirit of objects. Their lies took the life of many from the royal and buried the bones of humans and animals at the main entrance.

― and they thought, they waited long enough to sacrifice the firstborn of the monarch.

The Hwarang, who carried her all this time, placed her on the cold stone. Dressed in holy white of the temple, vestals tied her arms and legs. Above her stood the holy shaman, eyes colder than serpent's and lips as red as the poison. Her gaze ran over the younger female as her grasp around the golden dagger tightened. Then, she noticed the nasty cut on her flesh and frowned at the sight her eyes witnessed.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ Your majesty, „ she called and it was not until then that Yihwa noticed her father, the monarch of the kingdom was also there. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ The princess has cut on her. We cannot offer Gods an unperfect sacrifice, that would only anger them and bring calamity over royal family and kingdom. „

The innocence of a child was something like prayer and could not be planned. One just fell into its arms because the belief undid their disbelief. However, Yihwa's father never seemed to draw away from his belief. Innocence or anything alike did not exist, especially in his family. Every individual was born for a reason and neither had enough time to waste their time in childhood.

Therefore, he never had seen Yihwa as a child ― ever since she was born, she was titled as a sacrifice for the better of the country, for his reign.

So, he frowned when the shaman's words echoed in his ears even if he was aware there was nothing he could do. The monarch slowly walked towards where the child was, reached forward to free her arms and helped her to sit ― his hand gently running on her hair.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ My father used to say there is a well inside of everyone. „ He said, looking directly inside her eyes as if he could see the deepest darkness of her well in them. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ I saw the well inside of you, Yihwa and remembered my father's word about how clear or dirty water may come out depending on how you take care of it. „ His eyes moved up to look around, to faces of people that gathered around for the ritual. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ I'd rather prefer you to die as a human than live as a monster like me. For the best of everyone. „

It was not true that a burnt child dreaded the fire. She was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. She knew that when she went near it, she would burn herself again. Still, she got too close. ― and the fire that held her so close was the well beside her chambers, where Yihwa would jump after she was sent back to her chambers. Her mother was no longer around, neither was her father. Yet, she could not cry because tears were mirrors of weakness and she was forbidden to show them.

Instead, she jumped to the well, allowed the cold water to burn her flesh and silence to cover her ears. Water was the Gods’ vacancy. There, she inhaled their breath and drank their thoughts in one gulp. ― and she wished she could stay there longer. She wished Gods would let her live in their silence and warmth, instead of accepting her crimson blood on cold stones.

― and so, she grew up, and some started to call her fearless. only she knew herself an instrument of God.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ You cannot hurt Your Majesty and think you can leave, Your Highness. „

The twenty-five year old princess paused on her way, the golden dagger still resting between her slender fingers. The blood of monarch still at the edge of the weapon, ― because she left a cut on his face when he tried to sacrifice her once again ― she inhaled deeply before she tilted her head to look at the older shaman.

They, the holy people of the temple wanted to get her. Yihwa knew very well they needed her to prevent the upcoming eclipse. That was why despite her inexcusable against the monarch, neither could touch her.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ I'm no longer the ten-year old that you scared, Shaman. Neither I'm someone you can dare to lay your unworthy hands on. No matter how holy, you cannot harm a sacred bone like me. „

Her gaze then moved to her father, who was now an old man and struggled with illness.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ Didn't you mention grandfather used to say there is a well inside of everyone? „ Her tone came out cold and threatening. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ I saw the well inside of me as well, Your Majesty, and the water inside was so frowsy. Don't you think I became a monster, worthy enough to be called your daughter? „

Gods helped her. She had no one to guide her and it was dark again. So, Gods planted a blaze inside her soul and led her in her rebellion.

Dropping the dagger on the ground, Yihwa passed by the soldiers of the temple and the Hwarang army of the monarch. ― and once she found her path, her eyes caught the sight of a demon that fed himself with her wrath: pleased smile on his lips and a venomous glint in his eyes.

They were going to ruin everyone who dared to hurt her ― together, and for a price, which she would pay with the blood of royals.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‟ ⌜ 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡'𝗦 𝗪𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗛 ⌟. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 #daphnerkive ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝙩𝙬: blood, madness

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ that 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 in 𝗺𝗶𝗱𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ just another 𝗱𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗻𝗲 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — and Apollo mocked the god of love for his use of bow and arrow, as he is also patron of archery. “ What are you doing with powerful weapons, naughty boy? ” He said. “ That equipment of yours is fitting of our shoulders, which are able to give certain wounds to wild animals, and to enemies, I who recently killed the swollen python, who was pressing down so many acres with his disease-bearing belly, with countless arrows! You will be content to provoke some loves by your fire, not to lay claim to my honours. ”

The insulted god then prepared two arrows: one of gold and one of lead. He shot Apollo with the gold arrow, instilling in the god a passionate love for the river nymph Daphne. And he shot Daphne with the lead arrow, instilling in her a hatred for Apollo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‟

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ The reflection of the plangent autumn evening streaks with late sunlight and paints the stagnant sea with the colour of Hell's blaze. There, she is alone, loner than the salty sea ― which she believes to know better than she knows herself. Under the waves that carry the piece of memories, she closes her eyes for a deep slumber and welcomes the nightmare that repeats itself every week.

The ombre fragrance of violet leaf and geranium; a vivid reflection of amber, moss and vetiver. Golden coloured locks and sun-kissed eyes.

Others say Goddess plants that vivid dream in their realm as a reminder to choose the righteous path. For them to learn how to forgive and even ask for forgiveness. However, every time she is locked in that memory, her wrath explodes like a star that has frightened the universe. The adrenaline crawls in her vein like a bloodthirsty monster as her dull hazel eyes look everywhere but at the man that sings his love to her. She, on the other hand, only remembers his ombre fragrance of violet leaf and geranium; a vivid reflection of amber, moss and vetiver. — The fragrance that coloured her blind eye.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘿𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙣𝙚 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦. „

The silent gasp that slips from her lips brings her back to reality. Her hand reaches for her face, where she can still feel the warmth of blood on her cold skin. The absence of the crimson liquid is silent and that silence is as heavy as the sea.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱. „

The source of the sound stands on her left and she has to turn sharply to look who it is. As the left is blind, it is part of the darkness that keeps her vulnerable and it is the token that has been left for her from the sun's favourite.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯. „

Still, under the destructive effect of her nightmare, Daphne offers the fellow water spirit a nod and finally, swim towards the shore, where the light of the moon, the mirror that reflects the sun gives her a pair of legs and a chance to seek revenge ― something she has been doing past two months.

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸

The melody of the hide and seek game rolls on her lips as she walks on the veranda, leaving behind the print of her feet. Her hands are resting on her ridge and a grin that reminds others of the innocence of a child on her face, she looks for the man that has taken her left eye and life ― which has been drowning him in the sea of madness ever since.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘚𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. „

Her voice echoes too friendly, way too different from the intentions she is hiding behind the attractive features. Nevertheless, it gives her what she is after, the sound of metal informs the siren about the location of the one she is looking for.

The ombre fragrance of violet leaf and geranium; a vivid reflection of amber, moss and vetiver. Golden coloured locks and sun-kissed eyes ― and a ruthless cut that paints his cheek and lips with blood.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. „ His eyes widen as she appears in front of him and he desperately searches for something sharp to harm her.  And his expression simply makes her smile before she crouches down to meet his eyes. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳? „

― and slowly, very slowly, drown you in the delusion that no one can save you from?

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀↳read more.

[ryvxn]

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐕𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ⌟

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 , 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. blood, murder

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the very first kiss she could bear in her mind was gently placed on her temple by her mother. soft and encouraging, it was a gentle act of affirmation, was gifted to the abandoned daughter of sovereign, kim yihwa, after she managed to rattle off every monarch in silla history. thenadays, she failed to name the reason behind her mother's ambition and her extremely stubborn attitude about yihwa to know those names ― when she was well aware that no one in the palace accepted them as part of the royals or cared about her knowledge. as a matter of fact, the dethroned queen did not make her memorise monarchs because they were family. yihwa was at the right age to know blood did not tie people under the titles. the queen simply believed yihwa had to know the names of each of them as such time would come when her own name would be engraved on the list of monarchs. thus, yihwa did not argue and instead, did every wish of her mother to earn more of those encouraging kisses. ― and she named those kisses crimson, after her favourite colour.

the second kind of kiss she recalled was not pleasing, it was not delivered through tender lips and gentle eyes. it was a kiss of the hungry eyes that devoured her fragile soul because they believed she was the stair for the success they aimed to climb on. in her mother's chamber, surrounded by ministers that laughed and drank, yihwa could only sit by her mother and allow them to kiss her soul with their penetrating eyes. it was one of those moments she actually sensed the fear ― she was scared of herself and the sacred bone that everyone in the chamber seemed to respect and love a lot. they named her the rightful owner of the throne and bowed to swear their loyalty. therefore, yihwa named those invisible kisses grey because she knew their loyalty was a double-edged sword, the cruelly perfect mix of the two determined colours.

the third kind of kiss was supposed to be romantic, the phantasy of every maiden that dreamed of love and a family of her own. however, those were not the feeling yihwa had, it was purely out of curiosity that she kissed the youngest son of the minister ― maybe he was the oldest of the four, she did not bother to remember. yihwa neither endeavoured to remember his face nor his name, neither his status nor his forced loyalty to her. she was curious and so she pressed her lips against his rough pair. she kept her eyes half-open, sneaking a guilty peek at him as she came back for air. he, on the other hand, was not sure if nature rooted for this moment or if his mind tricked him into a perfect present, but every breath he took smelled like wild pear. the warm feeling of her breath, although destabilizing, was inviting, however, the kiss lasted short, just like the young gentleman’s loyalty to her as he feared king too much to plan a betrayal. ― and so, yihwa named the kiss yellow and she did not even look for a reason to do so.

the next was the kiss of pain that she never thought existed somewhere deep within her heart. her hands and her sword covered with the blood of those she could name siblings face carrying the dark grim of the eclipse night, yihwa felt an invisible pair of lips brush her cheek as she dragged her sword on the corridors that would lead her to the throne room. she did the impossible that night, embraced a long time dream of her mother, who was no longer around, and hers after a bloody battle. the colour of scarlet washed the palace and deep down, yihwa sighed in relief that her brother's, the only one she named family, was not among them. yet, she did not dare to say she felt better. her eyes carried no tear but her heart, it felt too much of what she could handle. however, she knew the faces that waited for her behind the doors, excepted her to be strong and unbreakable and for them, she pretended. allowing a deep breath to slip from her lips, yihwa felt the invisible kiss of ghosts on her cheek, and she named them cerulean before she wore her facade and opened the door of the throne room, where she met ministers that supported her.

the last was the kiss of someone that she was meant to name and meet later on in her life. it was not the kiss of betrayal, no, she was too much of a sinner to blame someone else. it was not the kiss of fear as well, as it always preferred to embrace her. it was something else, the cold lips belonged to someone she never met before until the very moment as she lied on the cold stone of the temple, her scarlet coloured sin colouring it as she stared at the starry night. the rumours of the new king already reached her ears and a bitter smile climbed on her lips, which held the blood of her own between them. ah, how fragile was the loyalty of humans? weren't they the same people that swore to serve her ever since she sat on the throne? pathetic. both her and those people. yet, yihwa still did not feel defeated as she knew very well that whoever they chose as their new monarch would never have what she had, would not do what she did throughout forty-nine days she sat on the throne. she was born with a right to be a sacred bone and that was something even her own father failed to change. therefore, the new monarch, she was sure, was yet another toy in the hands of the ministers and the pressure of the royal blood … she felt bad for him. she felt bad even if he was the one that ended her life. she felt bad for the blood that ran through his flesh, felt bad for the future he coloured with the blood of his and many other innocent ones. ― and then suddenly, she did not feel anything at all. lying in the middle of her blood’s pool, yihwa just managed to find who was kissing her all those time. she finally recalled the cold lips of death and named its kiss black for it showed her the same colour accompanied her throughout her life.

― then she woke up and she woke up countless times. to her own the colourless reality, invisible lips and kisses.

[ryvxn]

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⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀── ‟ 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗠𝗘

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀entry 13 ! for #InsidiousBingo

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⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ‣. radio 90.7 fm: tell me your story. ft. josée jo

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𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙇𝘼𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙍: The following content had been answered as out of character. However, to support a storyline, it is a fact that Josée would answer any kind of interview questions only for a media channel.

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I. What is their favourite time of day and why?

Josée doesn't really have a particular taste when it comes to her favourite time of the day. As she works in an office for long hours, it becomes hard to distinguish the time.

II. Do they have a degree? What subject is it in and why did they choose to study that?

Yes, she does have one from law school and another in philosophy. The understatement of justice had always been her interest and she grabbed the chance when it was given to study them.

III. If they were a demon, what would their primary sin be?

She would be a pride demon.

IV. Do they have any daily rituals?

She meditates every morning for ten minutes as soon as she wakes up. It helps her to clear her mind and focus on her daily plans.

V. Have they ever gone to a Halloween party before? What was their favourite costume?

Yes, she has been in one before and was dressed as the corpse bride. It was quite entertaining for her to scare people only with her costume.

VI. What is their favourite article of clothing or jewellery? Why?

Her favourite is pair of wrist pin as she wore them during the first court she won. They have a special and sentimental meaning to her.

VII. Have they ever been in love? What was it like for them?

Yes, she had been a couple of times, especially with her ex-husband. At first, it felt like the first rays of warm sunshine felt on bare skin after a snowy winter: enlivening, emboldening, enlightening. Almost like she just drank from the fountain of youth. Then it became selfish.

VIII. What is something they are very passionate about but didn’t pursue a career in?

If she is passionate about something, there is no way for her to abandoned it. so, there is none.

IX. What is their favourite place that they have lived?

Gray Mansion, she still lives there.

X. If they were in ATLA, what element would they bend?

Earth. She expresses the aspect of neutral jing, which involves listening and waiting. Also decisiveness; when the time comes to strike, she does it without hesitation or uncertainty.

XI. What do they like to do for fun?

She visits art galleries or reads articles about her industry.

XII. Who is someone that they admire?

Demian Gray. He is the one that shaped her current persona and continues to influence her attitude.

XIII. What is their favourite holiday?

Halloween.

XIV. If they were in Harry Potter, what house would they be?

She would be part of Slytherin house.

XV. If they could be reincarnated, what would they wish for in their next life?

A siren or a witch who would be eternally young.

XVI. Where was their first kiss?

At the classroom of Juliet Institute of the Arcane.

XVII. What is their favourite scent or smell?

Earth after rain.

XVIII. What do they like to do for their birthday?

Nothing special. She does not even remember it's her birthday until someone reminds her.

XIX. What’s a memory they feel really embarrassed about?

The conversation she had with the family friend, which changed her approach to life and youth.

XX. Have they killed anyone? If so, who was the first person they ever killed and why?

She did not. She woke up many death vessels, however.

[ryvxn]

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⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀── ‟ 𝗦𝗧𝗬𝗟𝗘 𝗘𝗩𝗢𝗟𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀entry 16 ! for #InsidiousBingo

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳more.

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[ryvxn]

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‟ ‣. 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗣𝗢𝗘𝗧𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗧𝗬.

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 #jocynic

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . 𝙩𝙬: 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘱𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ His teeth are growing 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙋𝙀𝙍 as if he can rend flesh as easily as air. Crimson eyes are locked with her dull pair, his silence demanding justice, in a way he describes the impartiality. It is bold of him to walk into her office and demonstrate his real identity when they are surrounded by humans. 𝘕𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘚 angry people are not always wise. In his eyes, she sees he wants to commit the murder he is imprisoned for. 𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀𝙎 are not built in a day, neither are the creations. But they can burn in one with a simple word or a tock of a wooden hammer. She sees the burnt empire in his eyes, the dust of darkness, call of bloodthirst — and she does not run away.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦? „

The rhetorical mixture of vocabulary, syntax like phrases that come from the television rebounds in their ears as the prosecutor looks at the soon to be criminal's son. The announcement of his father's case is exhibited to curious eyes and the name of the prosecutor is regarded like a 𝘗𝘈𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘐𝘕. Josée Jo. The woman prosecutor, who manages to catch the serial killer that has been after young girls and boys for the past ten years. In fact, humans know him as a barbaric killer whereas her kind names him the sanguinary 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙒𝘼𝙇𝙆𝙀𝙍.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘰. „

She frowns. Her eyebrows meet not for the idle threat but for the language the other chooses to use. How she hates the people that stain the sense of communication just because their vocabulary is limited. He can say tussle, contend and many other words to support his rather dramatic act.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘴. „ Sense of humour does not exist in her life. She does not entertain the impositions with unnecessary comments. However, she likes pushing people to their limits with her cutting remarks. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯? 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺, 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙? „

The sound of a snarl is suffocated by the news that announces the final judgment and the door, opened by the office worker. His 𝙁𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙎 disappears and he tilts his head to the side to hide his crimson coloured eyes. The corner of Josée's lips almost moves up to shape a mocking smirk but her emotions fail to describe what her mind desires. Instead, she turns to look at the office worker, her eyes questioning what brings her there.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘰, „ she says, sending a curious look at the guest. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴. „

She places the letters on the table but does not leave. Standing at the corner, she looks at the murderous looking man and the unbothered woman, wondering what kind of conversation two of them could share. Josée, on the other hand, does not tell her to go and lets the other watch the misery of her guest. However, she does look at the nightwalker, her gaze telling him to go and pray to 𝗚𝗢𝗗𝗦 & 𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗦 for his father ― even if she doubts any of them would listen to him. Then, she looks down at letters, most from the judicature and other district attorneys. Except for one of them.

The chair grits under her weight as Josée leaps to her feet. Eyes wide open, an expression she rarely shows, she reaches for her coat and bag and bolts out of her office without an explanation. She utters not a single word and leaves behind just an empty envelope with a familiar name engraved on it, written with well-recognized handwriting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮: 𝘿𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‣. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The Gray mansion is old, the elapsed time and ashes of the burnt history seem to erase everything but a portrait about one particular individual in the attic. As, in the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stands the full-length 𝙋𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙏 of a young woman of extraordinary personal beauty; at least half of her face. Paying the price of her 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘚, the beauty and deformity take a shape on her face.

In front of it stands a good looking spawn of hell, his hands hidden in his pocket and a zestful smile on his lips. Head tilted to the side, he stares at the familiar portrait until he hears the sound of approaching high heels.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘈𝘩, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘑𝘰𝘴é𝘦, „ the lust demon greets her without breaking his gaze away from her portrait. ⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦? „

He waits for her to approach him, to stand beside him before he finally tilts his body to face her 𝗥𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦 eyes. He does not seem much different than the last time they have seen each other, which is more than five years ago.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? „ He asks, more like uses his statement to tell her he has been watching her all these years. That he knows she finds abandoned flesh of souls she calls and uses them to paint her portrait. ― His hand reaches for her cheek, only for him to drop it by his hand when her silence tells him to stay away. His smile, however, remains the same.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦? „ He asks suddenly, ⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦. „

Loves are like empires: when the idea they are founded on crumbles, they, too, fade away.

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘰? „

A deep, dreamy silence accumulated around them, soft and dense, like silt. Brief but enough for her to swallow his reflection into her eyes. Then, she speaks:

⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘐𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦. „

The semblance around them begins to shape, the battered wood starts to burn and with a silent zephyr the attic changes into hell. Demian, quite impressed with the 𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 Josée forces into his mind, only widens his smile whereas the dark witch asks her question. Her voice is authoritative and demanding an answer: ⠀⠀ ― ‟ 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. „

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐹𝐿𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌 ⌟

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 , 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. blood, murder

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

she was born exposed, they tell her, a live wire. her lips are raw with this truth she has known her entire life. with this desperation she is so tired of tasting — she has bitten her tongue so many times, it no longer remembers how to bleed. she has an army of words hidden behind her teeth, ready for a battle they will never see. what a 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 she turned out to be.

⠀ ⠀

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

his soul was swooning into some new world, fantastic, dim, uncertain as undersea, traversed by cloudy shapes and beings. a world, a glimmer or a flower — glimmering and trembling, trembling and unfolding, a breaking light, an opening flower.

her eyes were half-open, sneaking a guilty peek at him as she took a step back for air. he, on the other hand, was not sure if nature rooted for this moment or if his mind tricked him into a perfect present, but every breath he took smelled like a wild pear. the warm feeling of her breath, although destabilizing, was inviting. he approached her for more, to steal a moment from the endless looking time but was interrupted by the deep frown that adorned her features. suddenly, anxiety took over his soft personality and he parted his lips to question what was wrong. it was her, after all, who kissed him first. yet, he could not utter a word. her gaze already told him to leave.

“ i apologise, your highness. ”

the oldest son of the minister of defence apologised, his face flushed with a dark shade of scarlet before he excused himself to leave. she acknowledged his request with a nod of her head and watched him flee with a disappointed expression on her face. — the kiss was supposed to be romantic, the phantasy of every maiden that dreamed of love and a family of her own. that was what she heard from some of the palace maids. however, those were not the sentiments yihwa felt, it was purely out of curiosity that she kissed the other and was disappointed to find out she neither felt the butterflies nor heard the hymn of her heart.

and so, she named the colour of the kiss flaxen.

“ you shouldn't show your disappointment, your highness. my brother has a soft heart. ”

the voice she had never heard before called for her attention. she tilted her head to look front and found a young man, dressed in hwarang uniform standing there. — his attire introduced him as gukseon, the hwarang leader of eclipse cadet and she wondered why he was there, in a place that many of his peers avoided.

“ then, you must follow your brother and console him. ”

her lips refused to utter a word of apology or sympathy. instead, they carried the usual venom that she gave to anyone from his cadet. well aware of the fact that neither of hwarangs respected her as they had to, she refused to spare her time to them. — if it was not for her father's unreasonable hatred towards her, as his oldest daughter, it would be her responsibility to lead hwarangs. yet, from the day she was abandoned in her chamber, she was robbed of her status and her younger sister was given the title.

“ i apologise but i cannot do that right now. ” as soon as he calmly explained himself, he offered an official greeting, bowing his head. “ gukseon seo joon greets hwarangs' leader, your highness, yihwa. ”

yihwa furrowed her brows, confusion crystal clear on her features as she looked at the young man that greeted her properly — even if it meant defying the order of the monarch.

“ either you have a death wish by defying the order of the king or you've been misinformed. save your greetings to — ” she paused, her frown deepening as part of her refused to acknowledge what rightfully belonged to her was given to her sister.

“ it is neither of them, your highness. i'm here to greet the real leader of hwarangs. ” the valiant warrior replied soon, his tone reflecting his determination. — however, his sincerity never reached to the abandoned princess of yihwa, at least not during their first encounter: a premonition to many encounters that would follow.

⠀ ⠀

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

her demands on herself were much tougher than others. hwarang seo joon noticed that after a few years he spent alongside the oldest daughter of the monarch. his visits were kept as a secret, alongside his determination to bond his loyalty on her. then again, she never seemed to grasp the sincerity of his gestures. maybe it was her loneliness that allowed him to be there or maybe, something beyond such sentiment. — he thought her loneliness was the real proof that she belonged to something greater than herself, just like the way absence was proof of what was once a presence.

“ they fear you. ” that was the first thing she said a week after they agreed to meet every night so that he could teach her how to hold a sword and protect herself. yihwa never showed herself to other hwarangs as she decided to keep her training a secret and he agreed because he believed she had to be strong to earn the trust of many other. however, he also knew sometimes she hid behind the shadows to watch the others learn a martial art.

“ you're first to notice, your highness. ” he responded to the other with a knowing smile on his lips — too pleased to hear such comment and acknowledging it as a compliment.

“ you notice things if you pay attention. ”

her response only widened his smile before he held a thin and long needle in front of her face. when she frowned, confused with the needle he showcased, he simply offered her a shrug.

“ then, please pay attention to this needle as well, as it will become the most dangerous weapon you will ever hold. ”

perhaps, it was because he also paid attention that seo joon knew what kind of weapon would gain yihwa's attention. he knew more than a sword or a dagger, she would like a useless looking needle that could give slaughterous damage to a person. — just like her, the needle was made to fool people and slowly push them to the edge of death, after all.

“ is this how you became a gukseon? by killing people with needles? ” yihwa questioned although she was pleased with the weapon he came up with. she searched for his eyes, to see if they reflected his sincerity but instead, found a glint of sadness — something close to mourning in them.

“ no, i made trades using my blood and abilities. i worked hard to gain what i have now, your highness. unfortunately, not everyone was born like you. ”

she remembered the rumours about him being adopted; rumours about his real identity and everything else that questioned his loyalty to silla. some said he was an assassin of goguryeo. some called him a refugee from baekje. yihwa never really questioned him but his silence made her believe there was indeed dust of truth in those rumours.

“ i made this using my ability as well. ”

suddenly, he placed a flower beside her — one so delicate and beauteous, she believed even the garden of wolseong palace did not have a flower like it among the many it held. she tilted her head to look at him, only to see a cocky smirk at the corner of his lips.

“ this is magical, your highness. you cannot find anything similar to this flower around the garden. ”

he was not wrong. she doubted she could find any flower similar to the one that rested beside her.

“ what are you? a charlatan shaman? ”

this time he laughed, hiding his hand away from her gaze as it was covered by the blood.

“ no, your highness. i am just an honest guy, who is terribly good at lying. ”

⠀ ⠀

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

the sun undressed the ivory-black veil that covered it minutes later. its light was reflected on the scarlet river that ran on the cold marble and the edge of the sword drew a thin line on them as the new monarch of silla took determined steps towards her chamber. her attire was stained by blood and the heavy scent of war, and her expression held emptiness — shielding her tears that she never allowed falling.

upon arriving at the familiar place that she spent her childhood and early youth in, her gaze wandered around the garden, the small one that always kept the most vivid coloured flowers of the kingdom. it reflected the most beautiful side of life to her, however, after the battle, after him, they seemed to wither like the soul of many that abandoned their flesh.

“ what happened here? ” yihwa questioned as she spared a look at her most trusted maid. her orbs fixated on the other's nervous expression, she soon noticed there was not an answer to her question. — it was already a miracle that such flowers chose her garden and now, it had to make sense that they chose to leave. “ nevermind. ”

she allowed a brief silence to adorn their space, tilted her head up to look at the morning sky — which greeted them as if the bloody eclipse never happened. then, yihwa sighed deeply, one question bothering her so much that she could not help but ask: “ how about gukseon seo? ”

“ he was already dead when soldiers found him. he and his wife. they haven't found out how the princess died yet, as she did not have blood on her but gukseon seo — ”

yihwa raised her hand to show what she heard was more than enough. she did not need to hear more to understand gukseon seo once again proved how loyal he was — even after he was forced to marry the daughter of the monarch, yihwa's sister. she heard enough to understand the hwarang leader used his special weapon to kill his wife, for yihwa to not have her sister's blood on her hands — and for others to have the most painful death without leaving a sign behind.

— and then, he killed himself.

ironically, even if her heart shattered in pain, yihwa remembered the day her father's letter arrived, a week before her sister's marriage with the man that promised his loyalty to her. the monarch used the power of words to remind yihwa of how she was not born to be loved and definitely, not to be weak. despite his rejection, she was still his daughter and all he wanted was for her to remove anyone that made her feel weak from her life. — “ thank you, your majesty, for never letting me forget as who i was born. ”

after sending the maid to attend new attire for her, yihwa stood in front of a small box, in which she held her precious gift — a flower that never withered ever since he gave it to her years ago. she bit her inner cheek, already knowing what awaited her there. hesitation, however, only held her back for a few minutes before she opened the box and found the withered petals of the flower in it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — all you create and all you destroy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

note ! this is one of the messy self-paras that i am not quite satisfied with. however, after mentioning demons and vampires, i wanted to write about a pixie, so here he is — a pixie hwarang.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝑆𝐴𝑁𝐺𝑈𝐼𝑁𝐸 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄 ⌟

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 , 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 — 𝟓𝟕𝟗

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. mention of blood, infant murder

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

the silence raised from unwatered graves. hand clenched tightly, nails leaving the small crescent shape on the thin skin of her palm. the anger she had, held all those years — cool, blue and unshifting became red, so red, she felt like it would explode soon. the one that she was so used to cool down burnt her soul, created a state of delusion that it alone could destroy the palace that tried to cage her. she stood there, her anger creating an act so bad that she struggled to move. — and that devourer wrath reminded her once again how to be her was to be the daughter of deserts. at best a mirage and at worst a massacre.

she opened the eyes that she closed so tightly. two eyes the colour of anger, a ring of cold, a belt of blood. her gaze wandered on the stone stairs that stood tall — the one every monarch climbed as a part of the enthronement ceremony.

she took a delicate breath — like the dawn that did not begin to break. like the darkness that begun to relent, promising that later on the darkness would slowly, utterly slowly, be sifted through with light.

— then, the silence grew with noise.

“ your highness. ” she heard someone call her. even from the way the other chose to address the hidden and forgotten, she understood the other was her person. someone who swore her loyalty and proved it years ago. “ your highness hwajoon and hwarang lee sun left the palace just now. they were sent to baekje frontiers by your majesty. ”

yihwa acknowledged the information with a nod of her head. she was already informed by her brother's trip to the frontier — he wrote it as a reply to her letter on which she engraved a small lotus. a sign for only them and no one else. then, she turned to look behind, to the chamber of hwajoon's mother as the older woman's words echoed in her ears.

yihwa noticed how confident she sounded. as if she had something planned, as if she was so sure that her son would be the next possessor of the throne. — and she was so confident that she did not even bother to pretend she was worried for the king's health. her attitude alone made yihwa understand there was someone else that carried the same purpose with her and that person was not her brother but his mother.

yihwa had to do something soon. — and she would do it simple. a small breath filling the world with tremendous thunder.

“ go check the army, ” yihwa commanded, “ be sure that they are prepared. we have to move fast when hwajoon isn't here or the queen might act before us. ”

yihwa turned on her heels to leave, only to be stopped by the vigilant question of the other.

“ will you be safe? ”

she paused abruptly.

there was no safe place for her. to trust such place and sentiment existed at all was to be vulnerable. if she ever believed that her heart would certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. yihwa locked that sentiment up safe in the casket and coffin of her selfishness. – safe, dark, motionless, airless. that was the advice she followed soon after someone told her: the only place outside heaven where she could be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of fallacy was hell.

“ i will. you just focus on the army preparation. ”

— to be sure that they were ready to bring to the place the silence of the hanged and massacred.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ —

⠀ ⠀

the wound was the place light entered one. however, the light that leaked through her wound was not the light of salvation but of the one that brought greed, lust and wrath. it seemed naturally part of her, such that yihwa failed to notice what made it vicious. after all, humans made love, and ate, and killed with the very same hands. — why would she think the light was any different?

“ have you thought long enough before accepting my agreement? ”

his warning stayed in mid-air. the reflection of hell's fire brightened his eyes as he wore a sinister smile, whereas yihwa only nodded her head. she thought enough, long enough to notice she could never understand why a demon like him would want a child. — she almost scoffed thinking ironically, her father as well, wanted a child before she was born. then the scouring griefs surrounded him, encompassing the kind of love he could feel.

“ why do you want a child? ” she still asked, eyes searching his. — the fact was that she did not trust the demon was inevitable but she still wished to hear an answer.

“ everyone wants someone to continue the lineage. ”

his words were adorned by the finest lies, however, did not manage to veil his antithesis. — yihwa felt bad for the child that was yet to be born but whose fate was already shaped. perhaps different than hers but still caged by the very same sentiments.

— no, she wanted to say, you just want to create the monster you couldn't be.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ —

⠀ ⠀

grief was an eclipse, it came and it went. soon after her father's death and her brother's departure, yihwa stood in front of the army, the spirit of the bengal tiger covering her fragile vessel. she held the burning arrow between her fingers and recalled the last words the demon said before they parted the ways:

“ do not let their dead blood stain the palace. you need to burn them to kill their death odourising souls. ”

she drew the bow, let the key of inferno burn the edge of the arrow and then, freed it.

the crimson coloured blood did not let the palace grounds rest that day. — and mercy walked away. the small army took the chance to surround the grounds and took the life one by one. as if the cloud of death visited the earth once again, this time to take not only the firstborns but everyone born with the cursed blood of royals. — and even of those that chose to follow them.

“ you highness, please. she is just an infant. ”

yihwa, herself was once an infant when her father found her worthless. it was his biggest mistake.

yihwa was a couple of years older than an infant when her mother placed a dagger on her palm and ordered her to destroy what made her weak, what she adored. — she killed the puppy that made her feel more human than ever when she was a couple of years older than an infant.

she was still a child when the palace stood against her. — and now, she was strong enough to not make the very same mistakes.

yihwa rose the sword and allowed it to cut the cotton-like skin of the unfortunate baby. — and she did not cry or showed any kind of reaction. not until she entered the throne hall, noticed how cold and empty it was.

her body trembled as she stared at the phantom of the blood that covered her hands. whispers of apology slipped from her mouth to cut the silence of the hall as she leaned against the throne and realized she did not win as much as she believed. — she lost something there. like a path she was walking that dead-ended, and now she was alone and lost in the forest, and she was here and she did not know where here was anymore.

“ your high — your majesty. ” the same maid she talked just a few days ago asked for permission to approach her. the way she addressed yihwa was always so accurate, she sat beside yihwa and began to clean the blood on her face hastily with a wet cloth.

“ you should never leave blood on your skin, your majesty, ” she spoke, cleaning yihwa's face. “ the scent might pull nightwalkers here. ”

yihwa was too tired to ask who nightwalkers were. she was too exhausted to remind the other water was too pure to clean her sins and blood was now engraved on her skin.

“ why are you so scared of them? and not from me? ”

the maid smiled at her painfully, “ i'm scared of you, ” she admitted, “ but compared to them, you're still a human. ”

just like the words of queen that brought nothing but confusion to yihwa, the maid's explanation behaved in the same manner. she watched the older woman clean her face before the other excused herself to leave — abandoning yihwa in the darkness of her realm.

pushing her body to stand up, yihwa slowly approached the window to look up at the sky. the moonlight once again showed itself, breaking free from the shadow of the eclipse. however, instead of admiring the beauty of it, yihwa looked front — to the shadows of the garden where pair of crimson coloured eyes stared at her.

the night offered silence.

then, those pair of eyes pained it with noise, with screams and with blood of others.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ i hold

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ thousands of dreams

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ behind my eyelids,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and myriad glowing desires

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ within my heart.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

disclaimer. thank you so much to zorian, park hoon and sage ambrose for allowing me to mention their muses and / or parts of plots we planned. every mun had permitted for them to be mentioned.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ Entry 13: About Me

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ #InsidiousBingo

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

i. what is their favourite time of day and why?

there is not a particular time of the day she could name a favourite. however, she loves eclipse, moon and sun, as it reminds her of the turning points of her lifetimes.

ii. do they have a degree? what subject is it in and why did they choose to study that?

although she had learnt quite a lot from life and had been alive during important historical incidents, the only official degree she has is journalism. she chose it because it sounded quite ironic for her that she could write using her own experience as a resource and it was easier for her to study it back in university. it was only after she graduated that rhea thought she could study world history or archaeology.

iii. if they were a demon, what would their primary sin be? if they are a demon, what is their most prominent virtue?

it probably would be wrath because she has a lot of it in her or lust ( not for a person but for power. ) it is beyond greed so she names it lust.

iv. do they have any daily rituals?

she checks the news on her phone every morning.

v. have they ever gone to a halloween party before? what was their favourite costume?

no, she has never gone to a halloween party. if she has to choose a costume she had worn before during historical incidents, she would choose the one she wore during the enthronement ceremony.

vi. what is their favourite article of clothing or jewellery? why?

her piercings. her right ear has seven piercings, where she wears small, dot-like star earrings, whereas, on her left ear, she wears a long earring that has a crescent symbol at the edge. it reminds her of who she really is.

vii. have they ever been in love? what was it like for them?

she never really tried to love or simply, could not. her mind always spoke louder than her heart. whenever she started to catch feelings, the voice at the back of her mind warned her and rhea always listened to it. she had better priorities than love.

viii. what is something they are very passionate about but didn’t pursue a career in?

history. other than those she witnessed, rhea always had an interest in the evolution of human nature and how they reflected it on their history.

ix. what is their favourite place that they have lived?

wolseong palace also known as banwolseong fortress, takes after its name, which, literally translates to mean 'a crescent moon shape on top of a hill'.

x. if they were in atla, what element would they bend?

water, more accurately, she would bend blood.

xi. what do they like to do for fun?

get in trouble. she always likes to test death and life.

xii. who is someone that they admire?

her brother from her very first life. there is just a silent admiration she has for the younger male, who has a big and strong heart. always different from her, she liked watching him approach situations with his own solutions. and perhaps, her father too. although they shared a deep hatred against each other, it did not change the fact that rhea takes after him.

xiii. what is their favourite holiday?

easter. ( ooc: big bonus if you catch the reference. )

xiv. if they were in harry potter, what house would they be?

either slytherin or ravenclaw. she likes using her sense for her own benefit.

xv. if they could be reincarnated, what would they wish for in their next life?

a cherry tree that could not remember its past lives.

xvi. where was their first kiss?

at the garden of wolseong palace. she kissed the youngest son of the minister ― maybe he was the oldest of the four, she does not bother to remember ― out of curiosity.

xvii. what is their favourite scent or smell?

patchouli and jasmine.

xviii. what do they like to do for their birthday?

just follow the tradition and spend it with aleph.

xix. what’s a memory they feel really embarrassed about?

everything she did as a child to earn her parents' attention was embarrassing.

xx. have they killed anyone? if so, who was the first person they ever killed and why?

she killed many people in every lifetime she had. the very first was the concubine of her father and she did it believing she was the reason her father had such a strong resentment against her.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ Entry 16: Style Evolution

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ #InsidiousBingo

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ many lifetimes of rhea ahn.

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ Entry 6: Pandora Box

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀↳ #InsidiousBingo

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐵𝑂𝑋 ⌟

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 , 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 — 𝟓𝟕𝟗

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. blood, death

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

a deep, dreamy silence accumulated around her, soft and dense, like silt. the warm scarlet washed her cold hands as her heart beat like a thousand drops of water fall — refused to stop, refused to let the soul leave such a substantial vessel. yet it could not stop what was coming. the pain on her abdomen mercilessly stabbed and stabbed. yet even that did not hurt as much as the reality that stabbed her mind. she was confronted by oblivion, and having lived nowhere near enough. there was no consolation, no epiphany and no hope.

in the abrupt, upsetting finale of this formidable life, the forgotten figure of silla history tilted her head to look at her murderer, her own brother. she noticed the tears that veiled his eyes — tears of sorrow or wrath, she did not know. there was a feeling, something deep she could not read. it was frustrating. such that if she could, she would laugh a little to herself. the feeling had no name but she knew what it felt like — sometimes, it hurts to be us.

her half-open eyes kept looking at him. she does not apologise, neither for taking the life of his wife nor his unborn. the apology for the rest of the family did not even pass through her mind — wasn't she a family as well? a sister, a cousin, a friend.

— “ i hate to leave it very much, ” she thought, “ and i hope i have done some good in it. ”

she then looked up, to the roof of the sacred temple. whispers of her dead ancestors rang in her ears as each of them cursed her, for the blood of the innocent and for the life she held in her vessel.

she laughed at them bitterly — did they not kill for the throne as well? did they not abandon her into the misery when she was no one but a lost child?

ah, they had a lot to talk about in hell.

“ i'm sorry. ”

the pang in her heart almost made her feel alive when her brother, her murderer apologised. she did not expect him to do so, no, she did expect him to hate her for everything she did — and everything she did not. his apology, however, was unnecessary. it was the key to pandora's box. her worst pain, her worst fear. not death itself but the apology she received for something she did not deserve.

and yet, she did not have a chance to let him know that. death was an inevitable, yet mysterious event.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  and death arrived as a languid sleep.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ Entry 2: Planet Her

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀↳ #InsidiousBingo

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀─ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑: 𝐀𝐇𝐍 𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐀.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

tw. blood, weapons.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↳ Entry 14: Bars & Melody

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀↳ #InsidiousBingo

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐀𝑆𝑈𝑀𝐴𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐀 ⌟

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐪𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 — 𝟏𝟗𝟎𝟖

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. murder, sexual implication

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

& so what—if my feathers

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ are burning. I

never asked for flight.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ only to feel

this fully, this

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ entire, the only way snow

touches bare skin—& is,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ suddenly, snow

no longer.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

the circus arrived without warning. no announcements preceded it. it was simply there when yesterday it was not. within the black-and-white striped canvas, tents were an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. it was called le cirque des reves, and it was only open at night. — and jang yeongrae, the obscure magician worked there. centre of rumours and curious eyes, the boy with nothing but sweet lies on his tongue. liars did make the best magicians, and he happened to be exceptional.

yeongrae never wished to be easily defined. he would rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable. more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person. that was why he was a well-established magician, feeding the people with their desired wanderlust and always getting his payment in return. — a heart, an eye and sometimes the soul of life.

“ did you do it again, yeongrae? ”

by the time yeongrae lied the lifeless vessel of his sacrifice on a sunflower meadow and walked back to the circus tent, da xia was already there, well aware of his intentions. her jaw clenched and her eyes reflected the dark ocean of enviousness, as she scoped him out — searching for the fragments of sin on his flesh. and he knew very well that she did not do it out of worry or curiosity, she just happened to follow her heart. in which the seed of admiration grew ever since elders thought they would make a great pair. one line made her claim him as first love, and made him claim her as his nemesis.

“ you shouldn't waste your time with the questions that you know the answers to. ”

he took a step aside to leave, only to be stopped by her. hand holding his arm in a tight grasp, she looked at him with teary eyes — and yeongrae hated her more for that. oh, how he hated those that thought they could love him. she held him the way thirst held water. so sincerely, so obsessed. and his hatred towards her continued to grow as he bent slightly to whisper to her ear: “ should i just tear your heart out now? ”

her eyes widened upon hearing him and he looked at her with emptiness in his eyes. that was something she told him when both of them were children. that the human eye was god's loneliest creation. how so much of the world passed through the pupil and still it held nothing. the eye, alone in its socket, did not even know there was another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty.

“ 心肝 , are you scared to show me there is no heart in you for me to tear? ”

da xia swallowed hard and looked away, hating the weakness of her spirit. she was more than her current self, a wilting flower. she was stronger than what she showed. yet, he always found a way to hurt her. his words hurt because he was the man responsible for making her burn. for making her feel like a woman. it hurt because it had been a trick. an illusion of magic he created with the corner of his fingertips — for his audience and for his chosen sacrifice he adorned under sheets. and it hurt most of all because he did not see her, the woman she was.

“ you are a monster. ”

he smirked at her insult. what was wrong with being a monster? it just meant he was both a shelter and warning at once. — and not only in that life but many times before.

“ that, i am. ”

and the pair avoided each other for the rest of the day. until the lanterns of the circus were on and tale listeners filled the tent.

yeongrae was a talented magician. he told a tale that took up residence in someone's soul, became their blood and self and purpose. the tale of his magic moved his audience and drove them and people did anything because of his words. that was his role, his gift. and he used his gift to seduce, to drown himself in flesh and empty vessels that could replace the nightmares of his past.

“ how dare a lowly circus girl like you tear my dress. do you even know who i am? ”

at the end of his performance, yeongrae heard a maiden raise her voice over a small tear on her attire. her face flushed, she waved her arms in a discordant rhythm to scold one of the circus workers, da xia. he heard someone whisper how the woman did a mistake but unfairly blamed the other but instead of stepping up and protecting the one that promised him future, yeongrae just watched. he waited for her to stand up for herself, to say anything to not carry coals. yet, she just stood there, eyes blurred by the tears that refused to fall.

— and he once again, hated her for that.

“ aren't you going to help her? she is your lover — ” the old lady of the circus said as she appeared out of nowhere. she did not really have any responsibility on the stage, her crystal ball and divination skills brought income out of the circus tent.

“ she isn't my lover. elders fooled her to believe that because of you — ” yeongrae responded, well aware that the woman beside him was more than what met to eyes. she was a witch and was well aware of his damned soul.

“ you need an innocent soul to balance your damned one, ” the other calmly responded, only for yeongrae to laugh at her in disbelief. tone harsh and challenging, he shook his head before returning his gaze to the scene that happened in front of him.

“ do you want me to thank you for choosing a sacrifice for me, old lady? ” his dark orbs reflected the cold waves of the ocean. “ i won't do whatever you want to. i won't love a soul that grow flowers in her eyes, ” he argued before his gaze focused on the maiden that caused to scene. “ i will choose my own sacrifice. ”

“ be careful, child, ” the witched warned. “ you need redemption to save your soul but you keep colouring your hands with the sinful shade of scarlet. ”

— there she was again and her riddles.

“ i'm death's favourite for that reason, aren't i? don't worry yourself for me. you said i'll die in the hands of the child emperor, not in the bed of a young maiden. ”

that was true. he would not die under the fragile hands of the maiden that caused a scene in front of the circus. he would...

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ —

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

acrimonious fingertips brushed the nocturnal silk that lacked the glints of starlight. the silence of the room ushered the symphony of life's mien, like a tempered chaperon. the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth. soft lips against the bite of liquor on their tongue. she knew the more they stayed in silence, the more she would miss herself in the unknown gaze of the forbidden magician. once she wed her unutterable vision to his perishable breath, her mind would never romp again like the mind of a goddess. — and that was what he was after. his kisses were talking, warning her for the last time about the approaching malignancy. yet, blinded by lust, she neither noticed the phlegmatic veil over his orbs nor the tenuous spicule he slowly injected into her cerebellum. a quiet falter, wide-open eyes that stared at him. and his plump lips that whispered against hers:

“ 心肝 , do you believe in magic? ”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

disclaimer. consists of references from the night circus and ocean vuong books. it is the messiest self-para i had ever written but please bear with it.

[ryvxn]

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝐆𝐔𝐍—𝐺𝐿𝑂𝑅𝑌—𝑺𝑨𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 ⌟

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ — #𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦 ; personal inscription.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐯𝐚𝐫. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 , 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 , 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧 — 𝟏𝟖𝟗𝟑

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. violence, war, blood, murder

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

his desire for loyalty was naive. he had not understood that being loyal was not so tidy, being loyal meant being disloyal to everything else. his gesture proper, chest puffed out with pride and hands connected below his ridge. the adopted son of joseon's renowned scholar did not behave like a noble, he treated himself like a royal. the foreign and invisible caftan of dignity heavy on his shoulders, he showcased an award-worthy performance of pretending to care as he stood beside his sister, to talk to her — to persuade her to become a concubine to the one that blindly sold his country. the king of the crown, the nemesis of the crowd.

his sister, however, neither acknowledged him as a relative because he was adopted nor saw him as a worthful person to interact with — because he was anything but a human in her eyes. there was no point in listening to him. for the first time in her life she was determined to get what she had always wanted: she would be something other than herself.

“ they are sending concubines from everywhere, ” he spoke after he spent half an hour watching her train swordsmanship. as if what she did was nothing more than a spare-time hobby — as if he could always do better because he was a man. he thought it would make their time more useful to talk about her soon to arrive invitation instead of talking about their falling country.

“ if you're that interested in becoming in concubine, go there as my substitution. ” her answer came out sharp and had an intention to perform as the conversation ender. unfortunately, the other did not have sense and instead, decided to walk in front of her. an unnerving smirk at the corner of his lips and a loathsome venom over his coal coloured eyes.

“ ko huijin, ” he called her name walking even closer to disturb her personal space. he smelt like sweat and shame and cigarette smoke. “ i will start to think you're refusing to be the king's woman because you're interested in me. ”

after all, the male ego was a horrible thing. she was not even surprised to see him so full of himself with the vain thought of her having any kind of feelings towards him. he spoke as if he was not aware, the only reason she bore with his existence was her father. — she knew he was aware of it very well. it was the very reason he hesitated to approach her. today, however, he seemed to borrow the confidence of someone else that was too big on him. the way his hand reached to her cheek proved that.

“ or should i ask, what would you do if i'm interested in you? even more, love you? ”

what she wrote in her life had no beginning: it was a continuation. she was neither naive enough to believe in fabricated lies nor young enough to chase after love. she was born as a fragile daughter of a scholar but ever since the pieces of her previous life filled her mind, huijin knew she was born twice. once for her flesh and second time for her soul. she heard enough of lies. her lips were kissed by death and her skin was caressed by the flames of the inferno. for someone who obtained the will-o-the-wisp, what could a mere mortal's love offer? he would just use his excuse for himself to stop her — because he would think loving someone would give him a right to become a useless stone under her feet.

what would she do? huijin's gaze looked far away from his shoulder and there she caught the terrified eyes of her father. he seemed to hear the other's words, which only gave her enough reason to hurdle that problem. — and so, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. a breath that carried the scent of death along with it. then, she raised her sword and did not miss a second to run it through the flesh of the other. the sharp edge created a deep cut on his neck and his eyes widened as his tremulous hands reached for his sheared skin.

what would she do? he asked and so she gave him an answer, satisfied orbs staring at him.

“ this. ”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ —

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

the english words she first learned were: gun, glory and sad ending. it was a couple of months after the incident that huijin left the luxury of nobleness behind and joined a small group of independence warriors.

for someone who grew up in silla palace, joseon's capital was the ironic mirror image of what her life could be. born for the second time in a place she least expected and with a new name, ko huijin, she was not a daughter of a monarch but instead, she was the child of a respected scholar. surrounded by people that actually loved and respected her, she did not hesitate to hold a gun when the japanese army stepped into the territory of joseon. determined to fight for independence, she even dared to forget about her curse. guns, swords, bitter taste of soil. unlike her first life, huijin fought not for her reign but for the sake of her beloved people — people she would do anything to protect.

“ the journalists from america are here. ” huijin heard some of their comrades whisper among themselves. she knew they were tremulous and felt disquiet but also found a piece of hope that the world was going to hear about their war. once they looked at her, she nodded her head to acknowledge their claims before she attempted to leave for training. however, the next comment she heard made her pause on her track.

“ three of them arrived at the mountain this evening. ”

no. she thought, there were only two of them.

as the older seniors were occupied with their interviews, huijin decided to check around herself. the small gun they stole from the american army in her hand, her dagger tied around her thigh, she slowly walked around the mountain forest that smelt gunpowder and iron. feet carefully pressing over the soil, she spent the night awake and wandered into the deeper side of the forest minutes before the sunrise.

“ domi? ” the familiar-looking silhouette almost caused her to put the gun down. “ what are you doing here — ” alone. she was about to ask when a phantom of stranger fell under her sight. his lips locked on the other's neck — his eyes painted in the brightest colour of blood and his teeth sharp enough to cut the flesh. “ what? — who are you? ”

huijin could guess who the other one was, she remembered hearing about them in her previous life. part of the tale whispered from wiseling lips to curious ears. nightwalkers. the beasts of the night that subsisted through the blood of the living.

“ stay away from her, ” was perhaps not the best way to transmit her wrath. as the other soon dropped the almost dead body of domi to the side, wiped the blood at the corner of his lips and then started to walk towards her.

huijin did not hesitate to pull the trigger, her aim accurate and harmful. however, the sight in front of her was more than enough for her to notice bullets did not easily stop blood-sucking beasts. eyes wide due to fear, she had to think fast and that was what she did. even if she could not fully stop the other, she would not simply give up. that was why, huijin just kept her gun aimed at the same place and pulled the trigger until she was out of the bullets.

she turned on her heels to run, to warn others and to get weapons but the night walker stopped her by jumping on her flesh. she fought against it by kicking the other but the vampire easily tore her flesh, as if she was just a semblance of existence and nothing else. and maybe, she really was.

“ let me go, ” she complained, her voice adorned with exhaustion and flare. her body irked when she caught the sight of fangs yet she still managed to reach for the dagger before cutting the vampires mouth, from one side to another.

the colour shade in the eyes of the other was a clear sign that if huijin was not in trouble before, she definitely was at the very moment. — and it was not her alone. it seemed like the group heard the sound of the gun. she heard them calling her name desperately, looking for any sign that asked for help. and she tried to raise her voice, to tell them to run away because a nightwalker entered their territory. however, before she could do so, the beam of rising sun tore the veil of darkness and fell on her despite the shadows of the forest trees. — and like that, the intruder disappeared.

“ huijin! huijin what happened? ”

a forest was a living thing like a human body…each part dependent on all the other parts. the forest was them, it was within them and it led the group to find her, covered in her blood and her leg broken. there was also a deep cut on her cheek, which left the elders in a torturous regret. them finding the dead body of domi did not ease their pain as well.

“ what happened here? who attacked you? ”

huijin did not answer. she did not know if they would believe her or even if they did, would that change anything? she sighed deeply, coming to one conclusion only. if there was no way to defeat that enemy for now, she had to concur with them.

“ i don't know, i didn't see the attacker. ”

and so, she drank the silence of god from a spring in the woods.