#jeonghan in blood is soooooo……my eyes glaze over. Its Just So Real.

[wuahae]

HMMMMM in regards to the requests with the weird stuff . im throwing u my pitch of an idea i had but i doubt i’ll ever get to writing but . something dark with joseon era lord!jeonghan? like he’s infamously known amongst the townspeople to never cross him because he’s always a hairtrigger away from going axe-crazy and killing anyone who gets on his bad side . but then you’re also his morality pet who he loves oh so dearly . idk. jeonghan with a glint in his eye and with blood smeared on his face and his sword dripping crimson but then he always caresses your cheek and greets you gently and softly. IDK.

teehee cat here u go sorry it took a week

lord!jeonghan x maid(?) reader | warning for horror i guess | words: 1k

it happened again.

you can tell because the servants are pale as they rush around, murmuring in hushed voices. one of the new kitchen maids looks absolutely terrified as she brushes past you. “–d you see? …covered in blood, and he was still–”

“enough,” the old housekeeper snaps. “hurry and draw a bath for young master yoon. and tell the laundry to prepare vinegar and cold water.”

(it’s been years since jeonghan has been young master yoon, but sometimes you think that grandfather seo looks at jeonghan and sees the person he used to be. grandfather seo had always been so affectionate, too sentimental beneath his cantankerous facade.)

you watch, silently, as the kitchen maids clutch at their sleeves and bow their heads before hurrying to their duties. nobody spares you a glance, not even grandfather seo. instead, he sighs heavily and sits on one of the ornate granite stools in the courtyard, groaning as his joints creak. 

hot water, you think. one of the kitchen maids should bring him a basin of hot water and a towel for his bad back. you can imagine the thick, humid air of the kitchen, the large glazed jug resting on the stove, always filled with water and piping hot, ready for whoever needs it. the smell of the straw fire, the smoke stinging at your eyes. but instead of walking the familiar path back, you gather your robes and walk towards the main house. 

(there was a time when you were a maid too, with chapped hands and the persistent smell of smoke clinging to your clothes. but it’s been years since you stepped into the kitchen. you hold a strange position in this house– not a servant anymore, but not a lady either. something in between. a pet, they used to sneer. the young master’s beloved, grandfather seo says.)

the moonlight-sheer silk of your outer robes flutter in the wind as you make your way across the courtyard and under the arch separating the back of the manor from the front. the sun is setting now, and the sky is bloody red, making your white robes glow scarlet. 

jeonghan sits in his private chambers, legs crossed, elbow propped against his desk. there are no servants here– nobody is brave, or foolish, enough to cross jeonghan’s path when he’s in such a state. the sliding door leading to the gardens is open, and as soon as he sees you rounding the corner, his expression brightens.

“oh, my little dove,” he calls out to you, tilting his head affectionately. “i’ve missed you all day.”

you smile, hands clasped, as you make your way towards him. “good evening, my lord. did you just return?”

jeonghan looks like a disaster. his celadon-blue robes are covered in blood, soaked into the heavy silk like ink stains. there’s blood spattered on his cheek and on his hands, and he’s still carrying his sword, unsheathed, covered in gore. 

you carefully step up onto the threshold of the room, holding the hem of your skirts out of the way. they swirl like gossamar as you walk towards him and take a seat at his side.

jeonghan finally takes the cloth off his desk and begins to wipe the blood off his sword, like a ritual. “where have you been all day?”

“i apologize for my absence, my lord,” you say as you begin to pour him tea. white tea, his favorite. “i was feeling weak this morning, so i rested.”

“my poor darling,” he croons, pausing to lift his hand to your cheek. the blood has dried now and flakes off his skin like rust. impossibly gently, he strokes his fingers down the line of your jaw, as if to reassure you. you imagine the blood smearing in streaks. 

swallowing down the lump in your throat, you smile at him again and present him his tea. “it’s nothing to worry about.”

jeonghan sighs, but he doesn’t take his tea. “you know i worry, though. how can i not?”

“you’re too good to me,” you mumble, looking away.

“never.” the tender, loving way he tucks your hair behind your ear is at odds with the scent of blood and gore on his hands. he tilts his head into your field of vision in that silly way that he always does, smiling even as his hair falls into his face. 

“i heard about what you did today,” you say quietly.

jeonghan’s smile falters for just a moment, but it passes in a blink of an eye. “don’t fret, darling. you know i don’t kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

of course, jeonghan’s grasp of morality isn’t quite all that… there. at least, not these days. you wonder how much he had to torture today’s poor victim before he got the confession he wanted to hear, regardless of whether it was true or not. 

“you’re unhappy.” jeonghan frowns. “please trust me.”

“i do,” you tell him. it’s a lie, and you know he can tell. 

“i swear.” his hand closes around yours, leaving rust-colored smears of blood on the white silk of your sleeve. “i won’t rest until i’ve fulfilled my promise. you remember that, don’t you?”

(you remember. by the time he finds you, it’s too late. you stare up at grey clouds, lightening with daybreak, eyes open but not seeing. who did this, he asks, but you can’t answer.

jeonghan has never begged before, but he’s on his knees now, gripping your shoulders, begging you. the great lord yoon pleading to a mere servant girl who somehow became something precious to him. he makes the promise right then and there. revenge.)

there’s no point. you want to tell him, but you can’t, so you just smile at him and squeeze his hand in return. your dear jeonghan, too cunning and vengeful for his own good. 

he’ll find out eventually, you’re sure because jeonghan always finds out in the end, that the man who killed you had drowned in the river later that same night, his head held down under the water as he struggled. all the desperation in the world is nothing in the face of a vengeful spirit. 

(you had waited until he stopped moving, and then you counted to 100 after that just to make sure, and then you watched as the body was carried by the water out of town, out towards the sea.

and then when you were done, you turned back and stepped out of the river. you needed to be back at the manor by daybreak. you weren’t supposed to be out, and jeonghan would be upset to find you gone.

the sun was rising.)