prince-iseul

[prince-iseul]

labellerose-acheron‌:

Belle smiled a little to herself. Her back was still to this stranger, so he wouldn’t see it, which was for the best. It would embarrass her. Since it was a private little smile, for Swynlake and Belle’s ever-fondness for it. To think, once upon a time, Belle had only ever thought of leaving it. Now, she couldn’t imagine anywhere else. Sure, she would still like to travel. There were so many things that she wished to see, but now–she had something–someone–to return home to. And that was better than any story.

“Depending on who you are,” Belle said, shrugging a shoulder somewhat sadly. “If the Prince has decided to close the forest, then that is for the best. But, the creatures that need access will find they still have it.” The Great Prince had told her that once, she remembered. Her heart gave a twist in her chest for her friend, but Belle was used to the feeling, she treated it tenderly so perhaps, the next time it returned, it would not try to be so vicious. 

“The forest is no more dangerous than anyone or anything else. I have lived here my whole life and never once has the forest been my enemy.” She said this somewhat sternly, though not unkindly, as she turned to look at this man, stopping in front of the shelf she had been leading him to. “Swynlake is an amazing place, it is old and powerful and kind, but it needs to be treated with respect. If you do that, you will find your stay here entirely enjoyable.” She smiled a little at the end, trying to sound a bit less like a mum. (When had she become such a mum?)

“Are you planning to stay long? We get many visitors, but not those looking to extend their stay.” 

A flare of annoyance, bright and red, flashed over Iseul’s vision as he realized this woman was lecturing him. At least, it sounded an awful lot like a lecture and Iseul had not come here to be lectured. He’d come here to patronize a bookstore. If he’d known the woman behind the counter would try to tell him how to behave he would’ve chosen another establishment. 

Still, he smiled a perfectly charming smile. He’d gotten adept at hiding his initial reactions to things over the years, learning to remain as inconspicuous as possible. That sort of thing came in handy when people started going missing in town. “I can see Swynlake means a lot to you,” he said. “You speak very fondly of it. It only further convinces me that I made the right choice in coming here.” 

Iseul selected a book from the shelf--an old weathered copy of Doctor Zhivago--and held it up. “I think this book is a good choice, don’t you? I haven’t read it in quite some time and, since I plan on staying here indefinitely, I will need some good reading material. It’s good to know this place is here. I’m very glad I came.” 

He was, but only because it served as something of a mystery to be solved. He would have to come back and see if he could catch sight of the wolf whose scent was tucked away in every shelf. Or the vampire who almost certainly liked to lurk through the stacks. 

“How much do I owe you?”

The Inherent Comfort of Small Town Bookstores || Iseubelle

[prince-iseul]

labellerose-acheron‌:

“What makes you think I own it?” Belle asked in reply, though she was preening a bit as she walked down the aisles. Shuck padded close by her side. She was glad that, perhaps, her name was still out there, floating around as the owner of Chapter Three. There was a part of her, that finicky pride of hers, perhaps, that didn’t want to give up the store. It had been her safe haven, once upon a time. 

“You would be correct,” she added, though, “partly, at least. My husband and I own the shoppe. He’s the one you can thank for all the wretched organization.” Belle had liked her bookshoppe just the way it had been, the order among chaos. She had found it comforting.

“I hope you can find something to add to your collection. It’s always a treat when someone who has a collection, finds something worthy in our humble little shoppe. It is why we try to keep such a wide variety on the shelves.” She let her fingers stroke fondly over one of the shelves as they passed by it. 

Despite the veritable menagerie of smells, this bookstore, Iseul had to admit, was rather charming. There were books in every available space on the shelves, which was something he liked. He wasn’t a fan of every shelf having a book on “display” where it was facing outward or owners leaving “aesthetic gaps” on their shelves. He often felt that booksellers tried a bit too hard. Books sold themselves to the right people. 

He’d never say that to this woman, though. Iseul was raised with manners and it was not good form to call someone’s job obsolete. “There are quite a few books that have caught my eye already,” he said, complimenting her collection. It was always a good idea. Just to stay on the right side of people. Even people who let vampires into their bookshop. 

“This town really is rather interesting, isn’t it? Have you lived here long? I’m new, and I’m finding there are lots of little strange things. Like getting text messages from unknown numbers and I hear the forest is not a good place to be at night. Is that true?”

The Inherent Comfort of Small Town Bookstores || Iseubelle

[prince-iseul]

moon-yeongjun‌:

Tea meant home to Jun, too. Though it was not the first thing that he thought of. If home were anything, it would be the smell of sizzling beef when he walked in the front door. A home wasn’t a home until you cooked in it, in Jun’s opinion. The first night he had returned to Swynlake had been a restless one because the kitchen had been cold and empty– Eomma still at the hospital with Abeoji and only leftovers in the morning. 

Jun had been the first one to cook for himself, then, welcoming Eomma home instead of the other way around. This was not as generous as it sounded (though to Jun it didn’t sound generous at all); he had cooked for himself, for Sky, Star, Sunny, and Yeong-tae, because that cold, silent kitchen was a stranger’s kitchen. It made him think of his own flat two hours away. The flat he was giving up now, the life he was leaving behind. 

Jun moved forward to unlock the Market. “Oh, we carry everything you could need,” he answered, tossing a proud grin over his shoulder. “Much of it we order from the farms surrounding Swynlake. The produce is from my family’s farm, and we have a selection of goat cheeses too. My mother makes the cheeses. They’re wonderful, very rich, very tasty.” 

He opened the door and gestured for the bloke to enter, and followed after. 

“If you don’t mind– you can take a look around, yes, while I get a few things organized…” 

How quaint. This boy and his family had a farm.

For a moment, the whole idea of it seemed absurd. A cute family with a farm where they raised their goats and his mother made cheeses. Surely nothing quite so Thomas Kinkade could truly exist in the world. It was Iseul’s experience that there was often darkness lurking beneath the surface. He found himself wondering what darkness lie in this family. 

That was a subject for another time, however, as he was led into the market and given permission to take a look around. If he did end up doing his weekly shopping here, (which seemed to be probable judging by the range of products they carried) he could use that time to dig a little deeper into the family--perhaps tease out a few stains. 

Iseul knew himself. He knew he could never let anything be idyllic for long. The Moon Market was practically begging to be torn apart by it’s own hubris. “You have a very nice meat selection,” Iseul called out to Jun. “Does most of this come from your farm as well?”

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

labellerose-acheron‌:

If you are just a man, Belle thought to herself, while continuing to smile pleasantly. She wasn’t worried. Even if Shuck growled, most people weren’t dumb enough to try something in broad daylight (save Urania.) And, even with his collar on, Shuck made a formidable foe. So, Belle wasn’t worried. Not at all.

When the man disappeared, Belle relaxed a little and went back to her homework. She had always liked that best anyway. When customers had interrupted her own reading, she had always been a little too peeved than was probably good for selling books. 

Belle didn’t know how much time had passed, but it wasn’t the bell that alerted her to the man’s presence this time, but Shuck lifting his head and letting out another soft growl, though he didn’t make any move to get up. Belle eyed the hound for a moment, though thoughts of anything sinister dropped away at the man’s question. 

Her eyebrows rose a little. “Well, we have Unorthodox by Deoborah Feldman,” she suggested, a bit cheekily, referring to the New York Times bestseller from a few years back. “Or Unorthodoxed Lawmaking, if you’re so interested. I had to read that one for class. It’s a real page turner.” Some people might consider her facetious for saying such a thing, but she really did mean it.

“Otherwise, I’m not sure what you mean by unorthodox. And we’ve plenty of rare and collectibles. Swynlake has a healthy donor pool and we’re the only place for them to give them besides the library.” Though, yes, they lost out quite a bit to the university library. Still, they had quite a selection of used books, some dating back to the 18th century. 

“Did you not see the shelf? I can help you, if you’d like. I know it can turn someone a bit around.” This was Belle being facetious, but not in anyway this man would really understand. Belle may still be a bit bitter about her husband’s reorganization of the shop. She felt a little gleeful whenever someone couldn’t find something they were looking for. In her opinion an organized bookstore was always much less functional. 

It didn’t make any sense, but what in this town did? 

Perhaps it was no longer politically correct to refer to anything as “unorthodox” these days. It was common practice for bookstores to stock the classic and the contemporary. Things that garnered readership and were appealing to the common reader. He supposed if he would call a tome on 14th Century Magick unorthodox, he was on the wrong side of history as some people say. 

In any case, Iseul decided this woman thought she was funny. He disagreed. 

He offered her another one of his pleasant smiles and nodded at her question. “Yes, if you could just point me in the right direction, I’d love to take a look at what you have. I’m always looking to expand my collection.” 

In recent years his love of books had been a bit of an inconvenience. They were large and heavy and as someone who was on the move more often than not, he didn’t get to amass very many at a time. When he was young, however, he’d had an entire library. He dreamed of that library sometimes when he was lonely or missed his mother terribly. She’d always encouraged his reading, even when people told him he had more important things to do. 

These days, whenever he stopped somewhere long enough to breathe, he went in search of books. He had a feeling he would be in Swynlake long enough to warrant some collectible titles--start his new library off right. 

He followed the woman through the stacks as she led him to where he ought to be looking. The deeper he went, the more  his senses assaulted him. This was not a normal bookstore. All sorts of things found their way in here and Iseul could smell every single one of them. Wolves, fairies, vampires. That last one had him twitching. Did this woman run a zoo?

“How long have you owned this establishment?”

The Inherent Comfort of Small Town Bookstores || Iseubelle

[prince-iseul]

labellerose-acheron‌:

Belle was revising. 

Well, technically she was supposed to be watching the front desk at Chapter Three. Which she was, also, technically, doing, but really–she was revising. The semester had just begun again, with exams rearing their ugly heads. Though, of course, Belle never thought poorly of exams or revision. She thrived on academics. Plus, it was an excellent distraction from other things that were horribly out of control for the moment in her life. 

Once upon a time, she never even would’ve heard the bell above the door chime. Belle was able to draw deep into her books when she wanted to. And she still could. Just–not in the shoppe, which had long ceased to be the same kind of safe haven for her that it had once been.

So, when the bell rang, she lifted her head slightly, giving a little welcoming smile at the man who walked in. She didn’t recognize him. She would’ve gone back to her book, not one to bother someone that came into a bookstore–she knew why people often did–but then–

Shuck, who was laying next to the front desk, growled low in his throat, lifting his head from where it’d been on his paws. Belle blinked and looked at Shuck, then looked at the man again. 

“Shuck, hush,” she told the hound in a commanding voice, though not necessarily a reprimand. She’d learned to more or less trust the hound’s opinion of people. Still, she didn’t want to give away any sort of hesitance (or lose a customer), so she smiled again at the man.

“Sorry about that, he doesn’t like men very much, but he’s perfectly well behaved, I promise.” 

           It smells interesting in here. 

Iseul didn’t have time to acknowledge the thought. It was dark and hungry, two things that didn’t belong in family-owned bookstores. He’d done plenty of terrible things in his life, but he would never stoop as low as threatening a bookseller’s livelihood by asking, in the presence of other customers, why their shop smelled so much like wolf. He shook it off, letting it flutter away into the recesses of his mind for later contemplation. 

“I take no offense,” he said, smiling his friendliest smile. “I’d be hard-pressed to convince the dog he has no reason to be tougher on men, given all the evidence to the contrary.” Iseul shrugged, offering up the self-deprecating remark with grace. “We can be quite bothersome as a rule.” 

His eyes pored over the shelves and his feet carried him further into the depths of the store. Yes, a wolf was definitely a regular here, if not an employee. The scent permeated the stacks and Iseul couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose just a bit as his fingers danced across the spines in front of him. The books here were fairly standard from what he could see, the literary fiction section checking all the usual boxes. He turned the corner and approached the counter, wary of the dog. 

“Do you have any unorthodox titles here? Or perhaps rare and collectible books? I’m always keeping an eye open for those sorts of things.” 

The Inherent Comfort of Small Town Bookstores || Iseubelle

[prince-iseul]

lee dongwook x harper’s bazaar korea

[prince-iseul]

The Inherent Comfort of Small Town Bookstores || Iseubelle

@labellerose-acheron

A life of solitude requires certain amenities. These amenities can differ from person to person, but for Iseul one of them was, of course, books. Over the course of his life he’d  found there was a difference between being alone and being alone without a book. The former was perfectly wonderful--his preferred state of being--while the latter was utterly miserable. This is why, no matter where he went or how he intended to get there, he always had at least one book at his side. 

Don Quixote was that book. If he could only bring one, it was that one. Iseul’s copy of Don Quixote told the story of his life. It was worn, weather-beaten, and crinkled at the edges, its pages stained and sometimes a little torn. 

                Remember the time you read it with bloody fingers?

Currently, Iseul’s copy of Don Quixote was buried deep in a chest in his closet. He had other books, but none of them had looked particularly appealing to him. He’d heard there was a bookstore in town run by one of the more prominent families in Swynlake. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to pay them a visit. 

This is how we find him walking into Chapter Three, the little bell above the door jingling pleasantly as he walks inside.  

[prince-iseul]

moon-yeongjun‌:

If Jun were the sort to believe in fate, then this would be a moment of Fate knocking on the door. Eomma would say so. Eomma believed in all sorts of things like that, which was why she prayed every day and was still at their church, where she helped every day after the services in putting together the community lunch. She worked hard every Saturday night, preparing dishes and dishes of food. She and Jun’s sisters wouldn’t be home until the late afternoon, after everything was eaten and the dishes washed, stacked in the Moon truck, and carted back home. When Jun was younger, he would stay and help. Until he was old enough to help Abeoji, and then he helped Abeoji.

And now there was no abeoji, there was simply Jun. 

This was why he did not believe in fate. 

He thought a compulsive thanks to the heavens anyway– compulsive because of a childhood growing up, told to do those things. A customer was a customer, sent by the heavens or something else, after all! 

“Ah, your timing is excellent, sir. I’m on my way to open the market right now. Our Sunday hours are from noon to six,” he explained. “Please! Feel free to walk with me. I imagine you’re new to Swynlake then? Or are you just passing through?”“ he asked as he began to walk again. 

It was odd, thought Iseul, falling into step with this other man. He’d walked alone for so long, (metaphorically of course, though he was no stranger to walking for sometimes days at a time) that something about syncing up with another person rubbed at his psyche in wrong ways. He almost felt trapped, caged, tied down and he stopped for a moment to cough into his elbow which gave him the excuse he needed to fall out of step--just one beat off. 

He felt better instantly. Iseul had found over the years that a solitary lifestyle was sticky. It clung to your insides and made itself at home and it was very territorial. But one beat off was enough to placate his need for solitude. “I just arrived,” he said, sizing up the market manager as he walked ever-so-slightly behind him. “I have an apartment at Castle Suites that I’m attempting to settle into which is why I found myself in need of tea. It isn’t home until you’ve had your first cup of tea, I always say. It’s a tradition since I’ve moved around a lot. Tea always made me feel at home.” 

They walked a little bit further before Iseul caught sight of what had to be the market. It was a little bit shabby, but not run down. It looked like a wholesome place to shop. “What other sorts of things do you carry? Would I be able to do my weekly shopping here? I like to support local family businesses when I can.” 

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

melody-the-unwritten‌:

Of course Melody knew a good place she knew multiple great places. Two of which weren’t in Sywnlake though. You would have to get to NTO but honestly it was worth the trip considering the selection.

“If you want close to here I’d suggest Moon Market but there’s a Tea Oasis in NTO that has a huge selection of loose leaf teas.” Shaking her own mug she made it obvious which she preferred. Or at least it was obvious to her.

Iseul nodded, smiling at her. This girl had a very soft sort of energy, the kind that would be very easy to take advantage of. He knew that on instinct, because he had spent years learning how to read people--how to size them up and see if he could use them to his own ends. 

His life was like that, always moving from place to place and trying to get just far enough ahead to be comfortable. It wasn’t as if he needed money. He had plenty of that no matter where he went, but he needed space to be who he was. He needed enough people to know him as kindly and sweet, or at least proper and well-behaved, that way if people started disappearing, no one would blame him. 

In the past it had always worked out for him. That was the power of learning to read people and say what they needed to hear. 

In Swynlake, he had no need for that. At least not yet. In Swynlake, he could be himself. 

“I do love a good loose leaf,” he said, nodding toward her mug. “I think perhaps I should give both places a try.”

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

deb-the-damsel‌:

Winter was amazing.

Of course, Deb had known about snow before Swynlake. She’d made snowmen and angels and wonky igloos in her garden, but there would always come a point where her mother would insist she return inside. These days though there was no one to stop her so Deb had bundled up in her big purple coat- so shiny!- and gloves and a hat just to wander the streets and enjoy the crunching sound snow made under her thick soled boots.

It made the air smell different, and she’d bet she could take a photo on any one of these pretty cobbled streets and it would make the perfect Christmas card- not a bad idea, really. Perhaps Jake’s mum would like one. Deb actually pulled out her phone to take some test pictures and got quite lost in thinking about angles and light and whether it would look better at night, when she was interrupted.

Stranger danger! Her brain said, because she hadn’t been great about it in the past and sometimes Jake had to remind her that some people weren’t as nice as they looked, but this guy looked really nice so he must at least be ok! It’s not like he was asking for much, either. “Hatters!” Deb told him, “it’s a cafe and they had loads of different kinds! Fruity or herbal or black or white, it’s all there!” She grinned, sliding her phone back into her pocket, “I could take you there if you like, it’s not far.”

For just a moment, something dark and vicious stirred inside of Iseul, something that recognized this girl for what she was. 

            easy prey

But that was biology. That was the wolf inside of him, clawing at his cage and trying to make his mark on the world. Iseul knew how to tame him. He knew to let him out just enough and only that much so that he was manageable and compliant. Iseul was the boss, not Adam and they coexisted quite well. 

          it’s almost time, iseul. it’s almost time to let me out.

Adam was right, but that wasn’t relevant to the moment. Right now there was a girl standing in front of Iseul talking about teas and asking if he’d like an escort to the local cafe. “I’d appreciate that very much,” he said with a smile, his voice polite and encouraging. “It’s funny, I always thought I had a great sense of direction, but this place seems to get a bit twisty at times, doesn’t it? Perhaps it’s only because I’m new.” 

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

moon-yeongjun‌:

Christmas vacation was over. 

Christmas vacation for the Moons was one of two times the store officially closed for most than a few hours. From Christmas Eve through Boxing Day, the door was locked, windows dim, and not a Moon in sight– well, unless you happened to arrive at 5 in the morning on Boxing Day, then yes, you’d find a Moon burrowed away, doing some stock to prepare for the opening of the Moon Market on December 27. But considering the Moon Market was opened 7 days a week, 7:00 to 19:00 (except for Sundays; noon to 18:00), the storefront’s silence was odd and ghostly. 

Today was December 29, though. Sunday. Jun finished church with his family (waste of his time, but ah, Eomma insisted, it was for his Eomma) and headed straight for the Market. He was ignoring everything and everyone– not hard considering Swynlake’s sleepy Sunday streets–

Until someone stepped right in front of him.

His first instinct: snap at them. Jun’s mouth pinched, eyebrows rising sharply. But then the bloke asked a not completely useless question. So Jun put on his Moon Market smile. 

“Why yes, I do! I manage the Moon Market, Swynlake’s premiere grocery establishment. We carry a wide range of different teas, many imported directly from Boseong.” Jun grinned, cherishing the name of his childhood home in his mouth. He had not been back to Boseong in almost twenty years. There was nothing there for him anymore– no Moons left in the beautiful tea fields, which had raised his mother, which had raised Jun, too. But they still ordered from the plantations that remained. It was a nostalgic, stupid indulgence (there were much cheaper tea partners, and they had a few…) but not one that Jun would ever relinquish. 

Ah, this fellow seemed like he’d been the correct person to ask. How fortuitous for Iseul, running into the man who managed a market of all things. If anyone would know what the market carried, it would be him, and he seemed to know his teas. 

Iseul’s lips twitched into something of a smile and he nodded politely, pleased to have his answer so quickly. “It would seem to be my lucky day,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “You’ve saved me from running around all over town, Mr. Moon, I presume.” 

It did not bode well for him, however, that the manager of the market was out walking about in Swynlake instead of manning his establishment. A man does need his tea if he is any sort of a man at all, and Iseul was feeling rather desperate. “May I ask if your market is currently open and where it might be located? I hate to intrude on your day, but my need is somewhat immediate,” he said with an apologetic smile. 

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

melody-the-unwritten‌:

Melody was the perfect person to ask about tea. She had her reusable mug in her hands the loose leaf steeping even as she wandered the town. A wander with a purpose as she planned to head to Whosits and see if anything popped out at her. 

She wasn’t expecting anyone to stop her in fact she wished no one did. The last time she let someone stop her she had ended up in tears nearly and she wasn’t looking forward to repeat it.

But tea. Tea was something Melody could go on about. Tea was cozy afternoons curled up with a good book and fuzzy socks. 

“Are you looking for just a cup of tea or to purchase more tea?”

Iseul was not above going out to purchase a cup of tea, but right now, he was leaning toward building up his own personal stock. He eyed the girl in front of him, hopeful that she’d been a good person to ask. So far it seemed that way. At least she hadn’t said something imbecilic like huh? or I dunno. 

“I think I’m looking to purchase more tea, if you know a good place to do so.” 

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

baenxietydad‌:

Marlin was not paying attention, not one bit. His mind was somewhere his body was not, probably wishing he was asleep, or worrying about Nemo even though he knew he was perfectly safe over at his friend Finn’s house, or calculating what time it was in Daegu, wondering if he should call Su-mi now or later.

He’d walked by the other man without noticing him, which of course meant when he addressed him, he was less than expecting it. 

“Aish! 씨발 놈아 [ssi-bal nom-a]!” Marlin exclaimed, jumping a mile, before locating the suspected source of the voice and addressing the man in English. “When did you get there? What are– are you with MI6 or something, whose footsteps are that silent?”

What had he been asking about? Tea? Tea choices?

“Uh, tea? If you’re looking for a single to-go cup situation, Hatter’s has good choices. If you’re looking to stock up your kitchen, Moon Market.” There. He was helpful.

Iseul hadn’t meant to startle. Perhaps he was a bit aloof, sometimes quite...maladjusted...but he wasn’t rude. No English gentleman should ever be rude. It was practically impossible because of their genetic make-up. Or, more accurately, depending on who their mothers were. Iseul’s mother had been a wonderful woman who never let her son get away with any breaches of etiquette. 

Just because you are...special, does not mean you are excused from being polite.

“Where is the Moon Market?” Iseul asked, a hint of a smile on his lips. It was a little funny, how flustered this man was. 

A Wolf and His Home | Open

[prince-iseul]

A Wolf and His Home | Open

Everything has it’s place. 

For a very long time Iseul told himself he could not go back to England. England, for him, was a place of pain and memories. It was a ghost of what his life could have been had he not been dragged kicking and screaming into the life of a monster. 

His place, however, was England, and the second he stepped off the ferry and on to English soil, he felt it. He was home. 

Swynlake was new enough that the pain only twinged at night when he looked upon the same stars he grew up with and the oppressive weight of the moon pressed down on his back. 

The wolf was silent a lot these days, preferring to rest until it was needed once again. Iseul was grateful. There had been a time this wasn’t so, back when the wolf lived just beneath the surface and jumped to the forefront every chance it got. Iseul had tamed it--given it a name and a purpose--and now Adam only came out on the full moon, salivating and ready to kill. 

As Iseul walked through the windswept streets, his patent leather shoes leaving expensive footprints in the thin layer of snow, he found himself wrapped in nostalgia. There was nothing quite like an English winter. The only thing he needed was some nice herbal tea. 

“Excuse me,” he said to the nearest passerby. “Do you know where I could find a nice selection of teas?”

[prince-iseul]

Happy 38th Birthday Lee Dong Wook! (06/11/2019)