Beauty & War: A Crown of Thorns

𝔱𝔴𝔬

// cw: mentions of depressive thoughts and suicide ideation

Samchon means uncle

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Jeongguk felt closest to the idea of home when he observed other families. The warmth in their shared smiles, the quiet comfort in simple gestures, the gentle words exchanged—it was in those small, daily acts of love that Jeongguk glimpsed the true meaning of home. Yet, no matter how much he longed for it, that feeling never truly belonged to him.

Namjoon's family had generously taken him in after the tragic death of his parents, providing him with a loving and nurturing environment. But despite their kindness, Jeongguk never felt like he was truly part of them, like they didn't love him the way they loved Namjoon. Namjoon, too, wasn't theirs by blood, but he was wanted—adopted into the family and cherished as their own in a way Jeongguk could only dream of.

Jeongguk had arrived at Namjoon's family much later in life, almost a pre-teen, in need of shelter after five long years of drifting between families and orphanages. His parents' deaths had left him without a home when the First Great War was still raging, though nearing its bitter end. Years later, after so much loss, the Kims had offered him refuge. What was supposed to be a short stay turned into something more permanent, but despite their kindness, he never truly felt like he belonged.

He wasn't treated cruelly—far from it—but he was always the eternal guest, not quite a son. Over time, Jeongguk made peace with that reality. He had no illusions, no expectations of being embraced as family, but still, there was a hollow ache. A yearning for something he once had—the feeling of truly belonging somewhere, to someone.

He missed the warmth of his parents' love—their hugs, their smiles, their soothing words. And their scent. He could no longer recall the distinct notes of their scent, a memory that had faded with time. Namjoon's parents, who had been close friends with his own, would often remind him that his own scent carried echoes of them—eucalyptus from his alpha mother and lilies from his omega mother. Jeongguk smelled of the same fresh forest blend, but as time passed, he couldn't remember their scent at all. After all, one cannot truly sense their own scent, no matter how much they try.

He loved Namjoon like a brother, had grown up admiring him. Namjoon's brilliance, his calm demeanor, his quiet dedication to learning, and his love for books were qualities Jeongguk respected deeply. But the young one had grown to be the opposite of everything Namjoon embodied. Jeongguk became the very image of an alpha stereotype: brooding, quick to violence, withdrawn from social interaction, imposing in both presence and strength. He wasn't sharp-witted or intellectual, but his physical power and imposing nature defined him.

One of the reasons Jeongguk wasn't the first in command of the Royal Guard was precisely because of his traits. Despite being an alpha with unmatched physical prowess and raw dominance, he lacked the qualities of a true leader—calm under pressure, strategic thinking, and the ability to inspire others.

Hoseok, though a beta—a designation that, merely half a century ago, had been scorned, stripped of status within the subgender hierarchy, and even targeted for extermination—carried those qualities with natural grace. Not only was he a skilled warrior, but he was also a brilliant tactician with a sharp mind for strategy and the wisdom and relatability to guide soldiers through both battle and negotiation.

Jeongguk's impulsiveness often held him back. He was formidable on the battlefield—fearsome in his ability to decimate enemy lines, his alpha stance overpowering and instilling fear in foes. But while Jeongguk could lead men into a bloodbath, he wasn't capable of rallying them for diplomacy or calming tensions.