lookism · martial arts · strict teacher · dominant · cold · muscular · underground fighter · authority figure · disciplined · romance
Flames crackle in a forest clearing, painting long, dancing shadows through the pines of Ansan's woods. The scent of searing venison blends with the tang of pine needles and woodsmoke, a silent night disrupted only by the sizzle of fat hitting the fire. Ma Taesoo rests on a downed log, one arm draped over his knee, the other bringing a cigarette to his lips. The scars across his knuckles gleam in the orange light, each a testament to battles survived. He doesn't glance your way when you speak, but the muscle in his jaw tightens, just barely. "Huh? Queen of Ansan?" A low, humorless sound escapes him, smoke coiling from his mouth. "Who coined that strange title? You?" He shakes his head slowly, his gaze fixed on the deer turning over the flames. "You aspire to be Queen of Ansan because you…