#rii's reading

[oo-li]

help. i would reach 30+ tags if i tried typing it all into the tags so. prepare for the yappa yappa outside the tags …. ( 𖦹‸𖦹)..

anyway memes for how this chapter had me feeling

ajsgsjgshdgbd hi i fell asleep yesterday reading this chapter (best way to sleep icl. if only i dreamed)

(i couldve dreamed of this au </3)

long tags. be warned.

to start: WDYM I WAS THE FIRST TO KNOW HOBGJOONG MADE THE COAT (kicks feet blushing)

the pineapple scent. idk why but it fits him. i enjoy it and each scent u assign to each member :3

next order of business: thinkibg about the end of last chapter and showing off softy san !!!!!! i wanna smother him in blankets and tell him its okay

also. giggling over how he drinks in this au knowing irl hes as much of a lightweight as me :3

ALSO ALSO. THE ALLEYWAY SCENE ??? im trying to like figure out who was there. like its gotta be mingi bc of the voice but who came out of the car ? hwa or joong ??

question is if swanette will remember the voice of who exited the car....

AND JONGHO MY BELOVED OUGH !!!!! i wanna bump into him on the streets meet cute style (delulu)

the maknae whisper !!!! such a good setup for us to know its him before he gives his name to swanette

AND I WAS WAITINF FOR HER TO FREAK BC JONGHO KNEW HER NAME BEFORE SHE EVER TOLD HIM !!!! safe in bed line !! so good !

wooyo offering to lace her up. melting. swanette is stronger than me lol (AND THE UNLACE LINE 🫠😵‍💫😵‍💫)

angel between two demons. the foreshadowing to the fucking first part of first chapter i fear.

side note but swanette fidgeting often is very relatable and me core so i really enjoy reading lines where she does repeated actions to soothe

as someone who stims with their necklace and clothes often. its just a very nice thing for me haha

speaking of reader being unhurt. remined me of the san icing her legs moment. blushes like a slut. ㅠㅇㅠ

WAIT I ALSO REALISED THEY MIGHT HAVE WAITED UNTIL SHE FELT NEEDED TO BE WALKED HOME BEFORE THEY STARTED TO DO IT REGULARLY ???

like yeah they dont feel the need to walk her home every night bc jongho n mingi watch over her and could protect her if needed

but idk. maybe its both good and a bit toxic of them ? toxic in the way of waiting for her moment of weakness ?

icl i wanna read this ignoring all potential toxicness in their bond with her but i fear that would ruin many beats of this story. sigh.

then again this isnt a sunshine and rainbows story. sorry maybe this tag wasnt nedded in my rambling ^^;

ANYWAY WOOYO JOKING TO COMFORT HER !!!! giggling and wiggling like a schoolgirl !!!

wtf was the restaurant scene. what was that. i know it means smth bigger but what !!!!!

tall and taller ??? our twin towers ??? WHAT DID THEY DO. DID SWANETTES HATE FOR CHEATERS BRING THIS TO IMARA AS A BUTTERFLY EFFECT TYPE SITUATION ?????

oh my god brat wooyoung teasing the fuck outta mingi. screaming over his touches longer longing. OH HOW I ADORE HIMMMMM

the S ring ? huh ??? do they have rings from seonghwa too ? couple items with seonghwa ? (delulu)

EVEN JONGHO HAD SEEN SWANETTE PERFORM IM SCREAMING OVER THIS SOBBING !!!!! i love baby bear soooo much ugh

oughhhh Julia. i do NOT like her. also im grateful the fellow members in the dance company dont realise san and wooyo love her bc i just know how much drama thatd bring

the foil of woosan. exploding. extrovert liking quieter cosy dates while the introvert likes outings. explodes pt2

i also love how wooyoung visibly lights up when swanette shows she listens and remembers what he tells her :((((

«San's gift of the coat» oh swanette. may u soon learn Joongie made it for u

ALSO ???? does the coat mean more than just joong quote unquote claiming her ? does her love her like woosan ?

has he been to a performance and no ond has known ????? i have many questions...

SCREAMING OVER THE NECKLACE BEING TUGGED !!! GOOD LORD SAN YOU WANT ME DEAD 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

side note i realised i feel like im annotating a physical book with this /pos enjoy the yapa yapa rii ramblings

«hes mine just as wooyoung and you are mine» SOBBING THATS A DREAMMMMMM

one hug from yeosang would literally fix me. im not joking.

side note the way you write is so delicious i love how it perfectly blends in her thoughts and actions into the narration... its delightful truly

GENTLEMAN SAN SWOONING

:( swanette wanting to be a star like yeosang :(((((

«there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude» YOU TELL EM !!!!

ouch ouch ouch !!! i dont like the foreshadowing of san's discontent with the prima ballerina answer !!! :(((

not much to add to yunho in the headlines other than swanette being so innocent... ough it works so well for the story and it isnt annoying or nothing !!! adore it

rip newspaper ceo bozo u wont be missed /j

shaking the bars of my cage !!!! yeosang wanting to eat dinner with her !!!!!!! im in love. yeosang i love u

SCREAMING OVER MINGIIIIII OH MY GOD MY SHAYLAAAAAAA MY BABY

the figures in the upper window !!!! our matz !!!!

oh the tooth gems... i wonder if it holds a special meaning within ateez's hierarchy in this au

the diamond chandelier. melting thinking about mv san. sorry

KITTY :D

wait sorry i was rewatching the mv bc of the piano mention and im gonna explode. im gonna send an ask dw dw

the mv okay. FUCKIN YEOSANGS FLOWR OUTFIT GRAHHH (pulls at my hair) jongho with the cat and the piano !!!! you nailed the car too w mingi omg ?

MINGI IN FRONT OF THE DESK ??? IS THAT WHERE YUNHO AND HIS SCENE AT THE TABLE COMES FROM ???

gotta lock back into the story. sorry. (i didnt lie with my yapa yapa)

barking over iomt hongjoong mention. sorry. daddy? sorry (death by pans and pots)

ngl yunho scattering ashes on the table cloth gave me a bit of an ick 😭

he was curious about her. growls. didnt he think she was some doll >:(((((

okay. the whole dinner. (wipes sweat off brow and sighs in relief) yunho intimidating. hes the guard doggggg

oh my god but yeosangieeeee and mingiiiii my princesses. my babiesssss

god i love my yeowoosan. i do. i wont lie any longerrrr

mingi cursing had me giggling

ALSO JONGHO MY BABYYYYYY BABY BOY BABY !!!!! :D

the time jump.... kitty z we love u dont take it personally pls :(

oughhhhhh its gonna be hard waiting for the next chapter this is so good !!! ill make sure to rb again when i reread the chapters hehe

till the next update or when i reread them !!! pls take care haley !

yappa yappa over o7

like a waltz⎯ part 4: piqué.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter focuses on all the boys & reader except my beloved matz :(( (their time is coming.) series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: As trouble arises and your patrons spend more time with you, more attention gets locked on you. Their interest is thoroughly piqued by you. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence (choking, fighting, punching, etc), canon typical gore, blood, death, guns, explicit language, stalking, alcohol, smoking, bribery, lack of privacy, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes, suggestive themes, kissing, intimacy, angst, fluff, voyeurism sort of, obsession, infatuation, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, food descriptions, missing people, polyamory, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 20.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

piqué ; french pronunciation: [piːk], ‘pricked’… or to stimulate interest or curiosity.

Creeping out of the stage-door hours after a performance was a normal thing for ballerinas. The alley way was something all the girls were familiar with just as they were with the foyer de la danse. Its damp cobblestone, nearby rotting trashcans, and the barely lit path was their red-carpet entrance. They were not allowed the luxury of entering through the grand doors of the opera house with its tall columns, brightly lit lamps, and the many steps towards its shiny, gold-painted extravagance The only days they were allowed to enter through the front doors were when the opera house was closed and they were rehearsing. The petit rats were only welcomed with glamour when the rich weren’t nearby. They had the back-entrance. This was the ugly underbelly of the pretty façade.

Dressed in her pretty coat and her warmest layers, she had said goodbye to San and Wooyoung ages ago. But then, the Madame had spoken to her and a few ballerinas in her office, relaying some notes, insisting on the girls performing the rectifications immediately. So, there they stood in the rehearsal room, satin-ribboned shoes laced up over thick winter stockings and their day-dresses on. The ballerinas repeated their motions: turning in pirouettes, performing jetes, and piquing across the hall. It was only after the city’s clock tolled twelve times that the Madame allowed them to stop with a slam of her cane into the wooden floorboards. Then, after confirming each dancer had paid their weekly bill (YN smiled, wiping sweat from her brow as she was told her patrons paid once more), they were allowed to leave. The other ballerinas had all scurried home by the time she had gathered her bag and coat once more.

It was late into the early hours, past midnight and not yet morning when she finally left the opera house and crept out into the alley.

Pushing the heavy door open with her shoulder, the chill of night soaked into her bones with a whoosh. Shivering a bit, she adjusted her pretty coat closer to her body and prepared herself for the walk home. Her boots click clacked on the icy pavement as she exited the mouth of the alley. Looking this way and that, the streets were abandoned. Seemingly abandoned. Some of the candle-lit lamps even had fizzled out in the evening with no leeries about to relight them. She continued to walk along, humming softly until she heard the noise. Loud panicked whispers. A crackling fire. The crinkling of a tin-barrel. The smell of smoke. Ahead of her, dark smoke was tumbling out of a nearby alleyway, firelight lighting the brick-walls. She paused, her foot-steps slowed.

Click. Clack.

“You fucked up the deal?” It was frightened.

Click, clank.

“I didn’t mean to; I didn’t mean to. Johnny stole some cash from them, and then-“

“I don’t care! We needed this deal – the money, before he arrives – before we all lose –“

There was the squealing of car wheels and the smell of hot gasoline in the air. YN froze, her footsteps stopping. A car door slammed open, and there was a new click-clank of boots. A startled yell, a shuffle of footsteps, voices overlapping; there was a thud of a body hitting the icy ground with a yell. YN held her breath.

“Gentlemen,” the newcomer’s voice was gravely. There were heavy footfalls and a scrambling sound of someone walking backwards. Something hit a tin-can.

“B-B-Boss.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, about that –“ the other chuckled. 

“My money isn’t no laughing matter.��� There was a thud like someone being shoved into a wall violently. The man groaned in pain. “You think I’m someone to be crossed? Where. Is. It?” the intimidating deep voice asked, lowly.

YN swallowed, frozen at the alley way’s entrance just out of view. When would she be able to pass? She needed to get out of here quiet and without being noticed. Or else… she was scared what would happen. This wasn’t the usual gang-dealings. Gangs would fight back, fist with fist. These men were scared.

“We can get it to you- We can- just give me some time, boss!”

“This is the second time,” the graveled voice grumbled; there was a low whistle, sharp and piercing.

And then it was quiet. There wasn’t even pleading, no whimpering.

Silence.

YN’s breath was held as she tentatively peered out from her spot. A sliver of her face was visible against the brickwork wall of the alley way. Smoke hazed the figures, but she could just make out the broad shoulders of the deep-voiced man, cornering another man to the brick wall. The man’s hand scratched at the many-ringed fingers that grasped his throat mercilessly. A gagging sound was heard. Not one of the gang-member’s allies moved to help them. Instead, they were all staring at the automobile.

A truck was reversed into the alley way. Black and large, it shined and flickered in the firelight. Its back-doors pushed open with a click, and men in dark masks tumbled out. Large, intimidating suited figures held bulky guns she had never seen before. YN had seen muskets, shotguns, and even a revolver once. These weren’t that. These were heavy, mechanical, and dangerous-looking. They piled into the alley, the metal of their weapons glinting in the firelight of the makeshift-barrel fire. The frightened figures strewn about the alley way were frozen-still; a few on the ground pleaded, praying. The masked men pointed their weapons at them warningly.

Her heart rate jumped.

This was more than just a gang fight – this seemed methodical. Frightened, her eyes darted to the other side of the alley, her path home just a few steps away. But she’d have to reveal herself… While they were distracted, she’d run. She would. She needed to get out of here quick. Like a mouse, she’d escape when the cats played with their prey.

There was the clink of a car door opening and a metallic thunk of it shutting firmly. A sigh echoed out into the air, disappointed.  

“Please, boss.” The figure held to the wall managed to splutter out.

His captor pushed him up the wall with a violent thud before finally letting go. The man gasped and gaped like a fish as the dark figure took a step backwards to look towards his accomplice. The figure exiting the car didn’t have the dark masks like the others. In this light and smoke, she could only make out the shape of him. Clean cut short hair, the trail of cigarette smoke, the gleam of his teeth. He tossed the cigarette to the icy floor.

Click, clack.

Click, clack.

Click, clack, BANG.

A gunshot went off. His hand was outstretched in a flash; the pistol in his grasp smoking. A man on the ground let out a yelp of pain; his blood splattered against ice and stone. His hand grasped at his leg helplessly in agony.

“Shall we send a message to your pals?” the new man insisted, cocking his red-hot gun again and aiming it at the man his companion had just released from a chokehold.

There was pleading; names babbled over one another until they were unrecognizable. “Sir! Mercy please!”

“I think we should,” the deep-voiced man commented, nearly growling out his words. “We knew you scum thought this was some game. And here you made it all messy.”

His teeth gleamed and glinted with his snarl.

“Let’s make it messy in return.” He finished, nodding at the other.

There was a signal, and the men fired at the others at the two tall figures’ command. Gunfire, loud, fast, and hot, blazed out across the alley way. Her voice escaped her, screaming out. Hiding quickly out of danger, YN jumped back.

“What’s that?” a voice bit out. “You got some dame in this? Find her. Get her!”

They had heard her. Ice flooded her veins. She turned to run, only to run face first into a broad chest. She screeched out again, her hand raising to muffle it. By the looks of his attire, he wasn’t one of the gang members from the alley way. No, this gentleman was dressed nicely in a midnight-black tuxedo with a black cummerbund sash around his waist like he had been at the opera house. His face was firm, almost furrow browed as he righted her with a careful hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t be in this mess; he looked so polished and unaware.

“Mis—” He didn’t get to finish his statement as she interrupted him. Her hands shoved unlady-like against his sturdy chest, wrinkling what had been previously a fine-pressed white button-up.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She hushed. “Now!”

Her eyes dripped of innocence, of protectiveness. Her fear was palpable. His intense brown orbs met hers and, without hesitation, he nodded. Surprisingly, despite his height and stature, he let her push and pull him away from the alley way and back towards the front of the now-abandoned opera house. She tugged him by the hand up the stairs, so they could stand hidden by the columns. 

Her boots click clacked with each step of the stairs. More gunshots rang out; footsteps followed after them. She stumbled a bit, yelping; the mystery man’s free hand reached out to support her waist before he pulled her into the cover of the tall columns.

She could hear gunfire echo through the street, and she jumped with each bang, bang, bang. The stranger’s hand rose to duck her closer to the column rather than hide against it himself. Curling into herself, into the man’s side, the column, her eyes shut tight. This was a nightmare. The masked figures would surely come after them. They’d pull him away and then her, and what would happen next? She was shaking. There was yelling, shouting. She flinched. A loud whisper.

“Maknae?”

No reply. There was a crunching of snow, the moaning of men in pain. There was a long pause; she didn’t dare open her eyes. And then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, heaving and thuds of something, and finally the squeal of car wheels going far away from the scene. The smell of gun-smoke and burnt rubber and gardenias (her rescuer’s cologne she realized) was all that was left.

A silence tumbled over the square like the cold water of an ocean’s tide, overwhelming and discombobulating. She stayed frozen for a long until a single finger poked at her shoulder.

“Miss?” he prompted softly; he shook her shoulder firmly then.

His tone sounded nervous, almost afraid. Of course he would be; she was afraid! It was frightening to almost be caught up in trouble. They had been so very close to being looped into a gang fight. She swore she’d never go down that alley or any alley again - ever. Shortcuts home be damned.

“It’s okay. You can open your eyes.” His voice was melodic, soft. Warm in this icy cold.

Her eyes opened tentatively, and she took in the sight of the gentleman in front of her.

He looked down at her with those intense deep-brown eyes, his dark hair mussed over his forehead. She could see his brows furrow at her in concern; his tongue peeked out to swipe over his top lip. His clothes, presumably for the ballet, were wrinkled by her man-handling.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, glancing her over with a quick look.

He didn’t let his gaze linger, but he hadn’t let his hand up from her shoulder either. She swallowed and shook her head as she shifted her shoulders, physically gathering herself as she replied.

“I’m okay, sir. Are you?” she asked politely. Her voice trembled still.

His face smoothed into something she’d almost call relief before he nodded. “I am.” He glanced out at the road. “They’re gone.”

He spoke to reassure her, the tone firm and resolute.

“Do you want to go to the police?” he asked slowly.

He seemed not too disheveled as he took a few steps away from her. His eyes remained on the nearby street, monitoring it. There was no sounds of moaning or pain. What had happened to the gang members? The gun fire was horrible; she hadn’t seen much. Except for red, red, red. No. No! She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want any reason for those men to come find her! They heard her. They had. Her hands rubbed over face; hours old makeup and sweat was sticky against her palms. It felt like blood for a moment.

It sent chills up her spine.

“Miss YN?” her rescuer prompted again, dragging her attention to him.

“No, sorry,” she babbled out. “No.” she confirmed firmly. Her arms wrapped around herself, tugging her coat closer.

“Are you sure?” the man’s brow raised.

“It’s easier to ignore these things,” she muttered out. “Safer. To not get involved.”

The man hummed low in his throat, melodically.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, trying to shake off her fear. “For shielding me up here. And running away.”

“You warned me. You saved me I guess,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”

She smiled shakily before glancing back at the now-quiet streets. Her hands clutched her coat closer.

“Will you be alright, Miss YN?” he asked.

Her nod was preoccupied.

“I will be,” she told him, glancing up at him. He fit right in with the glamour of the opera house. She wondered why she had never seen him before. He was memorable. His face was handsome; his form strong in a different way to San’s but still imposing.

“I’ll be on my way. It’s late and I don’t want trouble. I’m glad that we are both aliv-okay.” she corrected.

“I understand,” he said. “You don’t want a chaperone?”

She didn’t even know him. She wished Wooyoung or San was here. She shook her head, and she took a step away, fiddling with her coat.

“I’ll be okay. Good night…”

“Jongho,” he answered, even if she wasn’t asking. “My name is Jongho.”

“Jongho,” she repeated. “Thank you again.”

He nodded, bowing at the waist.

“Good night, YN.”

He’d whisper, “stay safe,” but he knew he’d be following after her in just a little while. After all, her designated shadow was busy tonight, too busy taking care of business to watch over her. So, the once-street-mutt Jongho had been sent in his stead to watch over his lady. And Jongho couldn’t help but be curious about her. Even more now that he had held her in his arms and seen the sweetness of her soul in her eyes.

YN was safe in her bed that night when she realized she had never told him her name.

And yet he had said it.

-

Her motions were sloppy. Her pointe was weak. And her mind lost. She plied.

“Are you alright, honey?” San asked.

It was the next night - before showtime. San and Wooyoung somehow weaseled themselves into the boudoir before any other patrons could. Sometimes she wondered how much coin that costed them. The Madame had been strict with no patrons before shows – allowing the fragile privacy to warm up and prepare for the shows. It was so easily broken by the two men, but their eyes were only locked on her. And when she turned away to shimmy into a costume or fix a corset or a loose ribbon, they’d respect her. Glancing aside no matter how much temptation itched at their hands.

Wooyoung had offered once to lace her up, and he was met with a look of sharp disbelief – even if it was shadowed by a sweet blush. He hadn’t asked again, but he looked forward to the day he would be able to lace her up… and unlace her.

Tonight, they stood leaning against the barre as she continued to warm up. But, of course, San had caught her shakiness, her focus weaning.

His hand slide across her waist slowly, thumb caressing up and down.

“I’m okay,” she said honestly, leaning into his support as she lowered her leg off the barre. She flexed her feet and rose up on to a pointe for a moment before sighing out and turning to face the two men.

San’s hand ghosted after her waist, guiding her close as she came to settle between her patrons. She rested her bum on the barre between San and Wooyoung. Her pristine white costume made her look like an angel between two black-suited demons. Wooyoung flicked his cigarette bud into an ash tray he’d stolen taken from the front lobby of the opera house.

“I’m sensing a but,” Wooyoung teased. His fingers trailed lower that they had before, grazing over her the small of her back closer and closer ‘til… San slapped his hand, albeit lightly. She didn’t chuckle at his joke. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t joke at all. He frowned.

“Hm, swanette?” he encouraged again.

“It’s—things have been different around town recently. I just got scared last night,” she admitted, fingers trailing back and forth over the barre pole supporting them. Restlessly. “I think its just shaking me up today.”

“How so?” San asked inquiringly.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen two gun fights in the past month while walking home. That’s not normal. There’s all sorts of kidnappings or disappearances. It’s just,” she shivered, thinking of the fear that had clung to her bones since last night. “Scary.” Her arms wrapped around herself.

Wooyoung frowned, his thumb going to rub at her arm soothingly. He didn’t like her fear. He liked her smiling far more.

“You didn’t go to the police, honey?” San asked, brow pursing. Wooyoung glanced over at San.

“No,” she admitted. “It’s—not my business.” She shook her head a bit, not agreeing completely with her phrasing. “I mean, that’s how it’s always been. Ignore, walk faster, try to get away before being seen. If you mind your business, they’ll mind yours… unless you’re involved. I’m not. Never have been. But… there have never been gun fights. I’ve seen fist fights, even switchblades being pulled.” She shook her head again. “I sound silly. But I know there were gangs around town – I know the familiar faces of troublemakers, their tells – and they’re afraid. And if the monsters are afraid--”

She trailed uncertain. She sighed out again before her hands went to squeeze both of their hands that rested on the barre.

“Sorry, I’m just shaken up, that’s all. I’m spiraling a bit,” she reconciled. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung was first to cut her off. “No, no, pretty girl. Don’t apologize.” He soothed. “We don’t want you scared.”  

“You weren’t hurt,” San clarified. It didn’t even sound like a question but still he said it.

She nodded in agreement. “Nope,” she showed her bare arms and twisted this way and that. As if it’d prove she was unharmed.

“Someone helped me,” she admitted.

San raised his brow at Wooyoung before the shorter began to fuss over her.

“My scared swanette,” Wooyoung pouted, huddling close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped her in his arms. “Shall we walk you home from now?” he murmured. “San and I will be your personal bodyguards.”

“Uh, huh,” she teased lightly. “I’m sure you will.”

They’ve only walked her home on occasion. She knew it was in the opposite direction of the Ateez House. She didn’t expect them to walk her home. She wanted them to.

“Trust me, you’ll never get hurt around me if I walked by your side,” San promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek as well.

“I’ll make the ground you walk and dance sacred.” Wooyoung whispered. “Drench it in holy water for you.”

She laughed at that.

“Stop teasing me,” she giggled. “You’re being mean.”

“We’re not teasing, honey.” San pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“I’m sure.”

“Shall I carry you home instead? Like a damsel.” Wooyoung teased, arms sweeping underneath her legs.

Wooyoung was growing bolder by the day, and it made her cheeks flush. She let out a shriek of laughter, dragging the eyes of the other ballerinas their way. San raised his brow at them. Unbeknownst to YN, San seemed to harden when looking at anyone other than Wooyoung or her. He spun her playfully. Her mind rightfully distracted from her fear finally.

“You’ll never step foot on ground again while I’m around, Miss Swanette.”

-

It was dark in the restaurant’s backroom. Smokey and lowlight with flickering candlelight. The servers, the cooks, everyone had been pushed out, locked out. The long table was bare of any meal. Water in crystal glasses sat in front of each man. At the head of the table, there was a decanter of amber liquid with two empty pristine glasses. It was quiet, so quiet that the squeaking of rats could be heard in the floor board. Nervous eyes looked this way and that; bodies shifted and fidgeted. The door opened, and all eyes were sucked to into their orbit.

Two figures stood side by side. Matching Rolexes glimmered on their wrists as they both adjust their suits. One shoved their gold-lined, midnight-black suit’s sleeves up with little finesse while the other took his time, slowly peeling off his suit jacket before rolling his white button-up sleeves up. Slinging his discarded jacket across one of his broad shoulders, he then adjusted his black tie, a long silver ring encompassed his pointer finger of his dominant hand. It almost looked like a claw. The other rolled his neck, the glimmer of multiple gold and pearl necklaces matching his sneer. 

Tall and taller glanced down the long table. Young and old sat there; most didn’t look like they had much. Fake luxurious hats with feathers, rings that didn’t sparkle quite right, and sweat-stained pinstriped suits. Some did have money. Their fat fingers rubbing their gold necklaces nervously. All of them shifted in their seats as the duo approached. One on each side of the table, they prowled.

“Gentlemen,” the one who spoke out first nearly growled his words in a snarl.

Rather than walk with his chin high like his companion, he tilted his chin to glare down the table. Dark eyes made darker still by anger. There was a laziness in his swagger as he walked behind one row of chairs; a hand trailed over each leathered chair.

“We have some… requests,” the taller one stated, a smile coming to his glimmering mouth.

 -

YN watched as Imara grab Dohyun’s hand. Her words were hushed in the loud boudoir, unreadable. But she could see the panic, the tears twinkling on her lash line.

‘Don’t do this please.’

She could read the pretty dancer’s lips.

The bank owner yanked his arm away, harshly. As if they hadn’t touched Imara’s body up and down like it was his for over a year. He glanced about as he spoke, mouth moving too quick for her to catch any words.

He shook his head again as he turned and left the boudoir.

Imara had to pay for her dues the next day for the first time in over a year.

-

Wooyoung stood by his promise. Each night since, he or San walked YN home, winding through the streets with their fingers interlaced. Most nights it was him. He liked the shared time for just them he said. Sometimes, he grew daring and would wrap his arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Like two lovers taking a stroll.

The following nights had been relatively calm; there were no gun fights, no gangsters. In fact, the streets seemed boring. Not a soul was seen around them except for, of course, her loyal following shadow. Not that she’d know. He was like a ghost, sneaking around the corners and alleys to keep them in his sight.

From the darkened corners of the streets, the figure followed after them night after night. His annoyance only growing as Wooyoung’s touches grew bolder in the solitude of night. With no one there, the idea of public decency was lost to the second-youngest. It wasn’t anything explicit. He just was touchy. Touchier than if it were daylight. Holding her closer, his touches longer, longing.

Longingly, he wanted to hold her; he wanted her to curl into his arms. Her shadow-man scowled deeply. Wooyoung truly was a brat he decided. Still, he continued to trail them from far away. But every now and then, Wooyoung would turn and give him a wink over his Swanette’s head. His hand sliding up her back, slow and teasing; his fingers tickled and trailed lower and lower on her waist. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled.

Wooyoung’s smirk was triumphant as his eyes flickered over to the shadow in the alleyway. Wooyoung was teasing. Teasing both of them.

She’d huddle closer after, and the stalking figure would whisper out a curse. Jealousy itched at his stomach, and he was sure to return home with a scowl. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted, and, while he was a gentleman, his thoughts felt not-so gentle. He wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Have her love him. He’d give her anything she wanted. He was already so weak for her, and they hadn’t even met.

He buried himself in the work that was piled on his desk, thanks to Hongjoong. Still, he’d get distracted, imagining fantasies of him and her. He spun a ring on the desk, the ‘S’ emblem on it taunting him.

Would he be able to see her perform soon? Seonghwa and Yeosang had visited. Even Jongho had. Maybe he’d convince Hongjoong to let him go to the foyer de la danse like Wooyoung and San were able to. Why couldn’t he?

The young man knew the answer like a bitter liquor.

Later that evening, Wooyoung and him would meet face-to-face. A smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he popped his head into the higher-rank’s office.

“Had a nice stroll?”

-

It was a Friday, and Julia with the red hair had been given a private dressing room. That was all anyone could whisper and gossip about.

It wasn’t large. It didn’t even have a mirror or dressing table yet. It was a small closet of a space. But it was hers - exclusively. Her name on a golden plaque had been placed on the door with the title ‘Featured Ballerina’ etched below it. There was space for more.  

The entire ballet troupe knew it had been paid for by her patron and wasn’t a result of any promotion amongst the troupe. She wasn’t prima; there was no way for her to achieve higher with no new show to audition for. It was all an act. It wasn’t talent. It was money and favoritism.

Meanwhile, Imara was despondent, cold as ice to anyone that gave her a pitying look.

Patrons came and went like the seasons – even if one thought they’d last forever, winter always came.

It made talking to either woman difficult. Julia was high on her excitement. The way she walked was like she owned the world. She would run off to her closet the moment she came off stage, even if there was hardly room for two people in the space, let alone warming up or staying warm. But, as YN exited stage left, she and the red head stumbled into one another with a clank.

They both yelped, flinching at the pain that radiated up their shoulders.

“Sorry,” YN apologized before her gaze rose and realized who it was.

“Hey Julia.” Her tone was sharper, less friendly than. Almost icy.

The red-head rubbed her shoulder scowling at the other before her own face dropped into an attitude of sorts.

“YN.”

It wasn’t said fond or with blooming respect like it had been before. Where was the respect that had been trickling down with San and Wooyoung’s support? Was it because Julia was still ever-higher than her? Was it because she had a dressing room now?

Maybe it was because they spotted one another outside of the ballet with their patrons by their side.

“Why did you lie to me?” YN spouted out, brows furrowing.

The other ballerina laughed out, too loud. She was almost heard over the orchestra playing a lofty tune as the White Swan jete’ed about on stage nearby.

“What are you talking about?” the other replied, dramatically hushing her tone.

“You said your patron never invited you out of the ballet.” YN stated. “But I saw you at the tennis match.”

There was a condescending tut that escaped the other, and it made YN’s eyes fall into slits.

“Oh, honey,” it was said cruelly. “You need to catch up. If you want to be like them, not be theirs, you must play like them.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve gone on plenty of outings with my patron.” She stated, fixing her hair.

“So, you lied,” YN clarified again, simply. What wasn’t clicking? She lied to her.

“I’m not invited; I’m expected,” she said. “I go where I want.”  

Semantics. It made her roll her eyes.

“He pays for you just as mine pay for me,” YN commented. “Why didn’t you just tell me it was normal? I was worried.”

Julia finally sighed out.

“Listen, YN. Liars are the only thing that fill those rich homes. Even your boys.” She bit out. “You better learn the game, how to play it, and how to tell if someone is lying to you if you want to be upper-class so badly, YN. Otherwise, you’ll just keep playing pretend, and nobody wants a pretender.”

Then, without another word, the red head pushed past her with a huff.

-

The game. Julia had called it a game.

YN had always looked at the boudoir as a show. A performance between patron and protégé. Usually explicit. But Julia saw it as a game. What type of game YN wondered?

Was it chess? A game of wits? A game of checkers? A game of hopping to the next best thing?

Wooyoung and San didn’t see her as a game. This she knew in her bones. Their sweet words were too sweet. Their genuine excitement and care were a balm to her. But then, she glanced aside at Imara who was like a lost sock without her patron, use ambiguous and left lonely in the corner of the busied boudoir. She had thought the same thing about her patron.  

Doubt crawled in. Trickled in her veins. Even as the pair of men strode into the boudoir after the show per usual. San fixed his vest, the white button up loosened and less appropriate, but pleasing to the eye. Wooyoung finished his drink, handed to him by the bulkier man obediently as they walked.

“Hello you two,” YN greeted.

“Hi, pretty lady,” Wooyoung replied. “How was your evening? You were lovely as always.”

“It was good.” she said.

Wooyoung presented his cheek to her, expectedly. With their increase in dates and walks home, he’d become openly affectionate now. Not that she fought against it. If she didn’t press a kiss, he’d pout but when she did a pleased hum would reverberate through his chest like a cat’s purr. It made her beam; his happiness became her pleasure.

She pecked his cheek, quick. He grinned and quickly engulfed her in an embrace. His lips danced over her face. Tiny millions of butterfly kisses were pressed over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Giggles consumed her; his quirking lips hummed as he worked his way down to her jaw, underneath it, her neck, to her collarbone, before he was pressing fond kisses over her pearl necklace and up the column of her throat. Each one sent a tingle running through her.

“No pain?” San questioned, aware of how easily she bruised and ached.

She shook her head distractedly.

“Only a few more shows left anyways if so.” She commented. He gave her a scolding look. “Training will be less strenuous than performing. Surprisingly.” She chuckled, gasping out as Wooyoung pressed a deep kiss to the spot beneath her jaw. Not quite a hickey but close.

“Good,” the man replied. She needed a break San thought. He saw how her toes were a bright red through her tights.

“It’ll be nice to dance something new soon – but it’s bittersweet.” She just managed to get out.

San hummed out in agreement, pressing his own kiss to her forehead as he wriggled Wooyoung away from his honey to let her begin to dress into every-day clothing once more. She gave him a thankful look as she quickly went to change nearby. Her face was flushed, and her heart raced. How was her hair even more mussed from her bun? He hadn’t even touched it.

“I know,” San replied. “You must be excited?”

She smiled as she shed out of her feathers.

“Closing night is always such an experience,” she taunted.

It was. Full of celebrations, champagne, and influx of patrons spending their last pennies of the season.

“Will you be there?”

“Of course, baby,” Wooyoung cooed from San’s arms. She saw him ghost a kiss across his neck.

“We’ll be there for every closing and opening from now on.”

-

Wooyoung sat by her side, her hand in his as he gestured to the menu about this tea and that americano and this croissant. Their spread was already far more than either of them could finish. Large oozy cookies, steaming croissants with chocolate fillings, savory bite-sized tarts, and a large sandwich Wooyoung had already cut in half. One for him and one for her.

They had begun to have more dates like this; Wooyoung favored more intimate places such as cafes where they could cozy up close and share treats and talk while San liked to show her off at tennis matches and outings of public attention. She had liked it – but she couldn’t help but hear Julia’s voice in the back of her head.

Did she know her patrons?

Wooyoung smiled brightly and talked easily with her now; an air of comfortability was palpable as his fingers played with hers.

“Wooyo,” she prompted tentatively, interrupting his yapping.

“Hm?” he looked up from the menu, his face inquiring. Brows raised, and mouth squeezed shut.

“I have a question.”

“Ask away, swanette.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go and flexing his arms to resettle his sitting form to look at her more attentively.

“Why is it you introduced yourself as a Jung? And not a Kim?” she asked.

“Force of habit, really,” he admitted. “Hongjoong insists on us sharing his name.” He raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip.

“Because he helped you when you needed him?” she recalled.

His grin grew wide, amused. “Yeah.” He paused, biting his lip for a moment before he scooted closer. “He took me in basically. Which is why I consider him family, close as thieves just like Yeosangie and Sannie.”

“He’s at Ateez House?” she queried, fingering a cookie. Tearing it up but not really eating as she thought.

How many were at that mansion? Yeosang, San, Wooyoung… Hongjoong and Seonghwa as well?

“There’s a lot of you there.”

He nodded as he picked up one of the crumbs she was making and pressed it to her lips. His fingertips were warm from the hot ceramic of his coffee cup. He smiled fondly as she nibbled at it. Before raising the rest of the crumb to his mouth, licking at the chocolate melting on his fingertips.

She licked her lips as she watched, chocolate fragrant on her tongue.

“There are eight of us,” he told her. “Eight men in one house, you can imagine the chaos.”

He spoke as if they shared an apartment and not a grand ‘haunted’ mansion.

“What does he do?” she mumbled, half focusing on her attempt to solve the mysteries that had plagued Ateez House’s occupants.

“Eh, a lot of things,” he sucked at the crumbs on his thumb before reaching out a wiping a smudge at the corner of her lips. “This and that. Loves art and shows and spectacle. Is a bit of a collector, more than Sannie is – you know, San loves pretty things.”

She already knew where this was going.

“Like me, Wooyoung?” she teased, beating him to his flirt.

“Just like you, Swanette.” He nudged her tea her way, urging her to drink before it went cold. “C’mon, try this too.”

And like that, her mind was sucked into his fancies as he fed her a warm tartlet that tasted richer than any food she had ever had.

-

It was the first night Wooyoung and San would be unable to walk her home. Wooyoung was good at keeping his promise; he walked her home for many many nights. His babbling softened with his sleepiness which was cute. It was worth it to press a kiss to her lips before she went inside, and even more worth it when he caught the shadow of a figure watching them. He’d blow him a kiss – behind her back that is.

She was anxious to walk alone. Her stomach churned at the though. Wooyoung had apologized as they rushed off to something that needed their attention – him and San. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, promising she’d be okay. He’d see her tomorrow. Walk in the light and you’ll be fine, little bird. As if she walked anywhere else anymore – all her shortcuts scared her now.

It was too late to call for a carriage or a buggy to take her home, so it was the only way. Unless she wanted to sleep on the uncomfortable settee in the boudoir (and most likely be kicked out by the janitor early in the morning. She could hear the Madame already. “This isn’t an orphanage, Miss YN.” Despite the selection of orphans that made up their ranks.)

So, YN hugged her jacket around herself and began her trek home.

And it was so peaceful. Not a whisper, not a fight, nothing. The streets were abandoned – even the men who were stumbling home drunk were absent. It was absolutely empty. Except for her.

And her stalker, of course.

-

San was early at the opera house the next day– so early the doors to the boudoir weren’t unlocked yet. Instead, he lingered out front, pacing this way and that.

“Sannie,” she exclaimed at the sight of him.

How did he know she was going to practice early today? The question was quickly forgotten as she hugged him. His arms wrapped around her in a warm bear hug before he pulled back to press a kiss to her nose.

Sweet, that’s what San was.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, smiling affectionately up at him.

They hadn’t shifted in their embrace; San kept her close to him as he looked down at her. There was clear fondness there. His fingers rubbed up and down her back, over her warm winter coat.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted. “You look so cute in your coat.”

His words brought a flush to her cheeks. This was what she imagined when she thought of Julia’s words. No way could this be false. He was cooing over her, his touch reverent. It was different.

“I love it,” she replied. “It keeps me warm. Just like you.”

He laughed, warmly. He brought her close to his chest again, hugging her. It was funny. For as much as he claimed Wooyoung was touchy, San loved skinship. He liked to keep her close.

“I got you something,” he whispered after a moment, shifting one arm to reach into his pocket.

“What’s this?”

In his small hand (well, small compared to his broad form) sat a beautiful bracelet, teardrop-cut diamonds were linked together into a delicate yet unbelievably expensive gift.

“For you.”

San smiled like a content cat as he watched her fiddle with the pretty diamond bracelet. His dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her fingers brushed over the jewels admiringly. He loved pretty things and seeing her openly awe made him buzz with excitement. Carefully, he linked the clasp over her wrist and turned her hand over in his, watching the gems glimmer and shimmer in the gas light. He grinned.

“What’s this for?” she asked, brows crinkling curiously.

It wasn’t like Wooyoung’s gift – a month anniversary gift – or even San’s gift of the coat, something she had needed in all honesty. This was sudden. Strange.

His fingers brushed over the jewels before he spoke again.

“I was jealous that Wooyo had this pretty necklace around your throat.”

He leaned forward, fingering the pearls around her throat before tugging experimentally at them like it was a leash. They tightened with the pressure, choking her lightly and forcing her to lean closer to her patron. YN’s breath stolen, not in pain but in a flicker of excitement, surprise, pleasure. Her head tilted back to smile up at him. His fingers tightened around the pearls ever so.

“Oh, honey,” San cooed soft and sweet as he continued to tug her up by the collar of her necklace to capture her lips in a kiss. One kiss that devolved into many as he pushed her up against the door to the boudoir, lifting her lightly into his arms. Pressed against the door, her bejeweled hand tangled in his hair, tugging him ever closer.

They were lucky no one passed by as they devoured one another.

San may have been a gentleman, but his greed and power revealed itself slowly but surely.

-

Another man was missing. He had been a regular in the boudoir. A young man who spent his spare pennies to leer at them. He wasn’t missed by any of the ballerinas, but it was frightening. Too many people were disappearing or getting into trouble.

Her mother and the other ladies at the factory walked together now. To and from work, in case trouble arose. She had even pushed for YN to walk with someone to the Opera House for once.

“Your boy is a good one,” she appraised. “That Wooyoung walks you here every night now. Like a gentleman. Stick around him.”

-

San had invited her out to another tennis match. Wooyoung had been caught up in business (business she still didn’t know of, she lamented as they walked along the cobblestone streets. San had whispered in her ear that it was boring. Wooyoung was unlucky to not be here with her. And he, in turn, was ever lucky.)

She wore his pretty diamond bracelet on her wrist, and, every time he stole a glance, his face curled up into a pleasant happy grin. He looked sweet like a kitten.

His arm wrapped around her waist as they sat and watch Yeosang’s match. Drinking champagne, he’d offer her his flute every so often, and she’d sip away. It was an expensive brand, far more easy to drink than the piss-poor alcohol the ballerinas could afford for their own celebrations away from the leering men of the opera. Drinking the expensive liquor the men offered was never a good idea – it led to worser things.

Yeosang looked as pretty as ever. He reminded her of a ballerino the way he danced about the court.  Somehow both pretty and masculine as his form bent and stretched. Muscles rippled, leaner than San’s but not any less bulging. His arms flexed and she held onto the shared flue of champagne tighter.

San’s fingers stroked over her hip.

“You’re staring, honey,” he teased.

It wasn’t the tone of a jealous lover or a scolding of a respectable man. It was lilting, gentle. Her eyes looked away from Yeosang and rested on her date. He sipped his champagne, lips pursing and brows dancing. San’s lids were heavy as he grinned. Just as cat-like as earlier but more cheshire. Like he knew a secret.

He glanced away from her and looked over the athlete. His gaze mirrored hers, she realized. A fondness… no, an attracted air radiated in his deep brown orbs.

Was he teasing her? Was he genuine?

“Now, you’re staring,” she teased in return.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he replied coyly. He glanced back at her as he leaned in. “He’s handsome, hm?”

Her cheeks flushed at that and she looked away.

“San!” she exclaimed.

His laughter rumbled in his chest as he held her closer. His lips pressed to her ear intimately. 

“It’s alright, honey. He’s mine. Just as Wooyoung’s mine.” He replied easily. “Just as you are mine.” His lips kissed her skin before he pulled away. Her hand shifted to grasp his in hers. His thumb grazed over her bracelet lovingly.

-

Yeosang greeted them after his victory; the zing of celebratory champagne on his breath stinging her nose as he leaned forward to wrap her into an eager hug. Daring for a second-meeting. It made her worry she had been too obvious with her friendliness, her intrigue… her interest in the athlete. She did like him after all.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he beamed.

The smell of his cologne mingled with his sweat. Masculinity mixed with the soft thyme and tea of his perfume. It made her want to hug him closer. He pulled back, his eyes burning with the same intensity beforehand. A straightforwardness. He wasn’t afraid to meet her gaze. His honeyed eyes were sweet and inquiring. Taking in every feature of her – the dark coat, the pearls, the diamonds. He smiled.

“Hello Yeosang. Congratulations,” she returned.

The man nodded respectfully before he glanced over her shoulder at the tall muscled man, eyeing Yeosang with clear adoration.

“San,” he greeted.

“Yeosangie,” San replied with a fond grin. His cheeks were blushed, maybe from the champagne they shared?

The athlete rolled his eyes lightly, playfully, before he settled his gaze on the lady.

“Did you make any bets?” he asked curiously, leaning into her with intrigue.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed. She hadnt even thought of that; she was a guest after all.

“You know what? Yeosang’s right,” San retorted. His hand squeezed her waist. “Next time, you should bet some coin. We do all the time.”

Her brows crinkled, doubtfully. Not because she doubted Yeosang’s abilities. He was a powerful athlete. But betting… she swallowed a bit. She didn’t have much money to risk in general. She had just gotten used to having extra coins in her coinpurse. Her embarrassment burned at her ears.

“I’m not sure,” she said softly.

Yeosang eyed her before he hummed lightly. His gaze settled back on San, firmly.

“I’ll do it for you,” San said instead, downing the rest of his drink. His eyes reopened from the gulp and he shrugged. “I’ll buy you anything, honey. Everything.”

Yeosang laughed, lips curling. Pleased. He leaned in to whisper close. 

“You’ve got our San, sweetheart. Wrapped around your pretty finger.”

The athlete’s fingers were close by still, and they tickled her fingertips playfully. If he was any bolder, he’d be holding her hand. But instead, like a tease, he pulled back. Licking his lower lip and flashing a charming smile that only a socialite had. Easy and well-practiced.

“I’ll buy you anything, too, baby,” San purred towards Yeosang. He looked at the buff man with a raised brow. He always looked so sharp, in a delicate way despite his rippling muscles.

“I know,” he teased.

Yeosang raised a hand to squeeze the younger’s cheeks fondly. San smiled, pleased, a mirror of the grin he gave her earlier. His cheeks looked plump in the other’s lean long fingers. Yeosang chuckled, squeezing them again before his hand dropped and he turned.

“Come with me,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We can talk in the shade – the weather is horrid.”

He was right; the clouds were whirling and swirling into what was sure to be a downpour soon. They walked further into the tennis court’s shaded areas – the betting shop in the corner with a long line. People, mostly men, were cashing in their rewards. San’s hands went to rest on the small of her back; if she had glanced aside, she’d see he did the same to Yeosang, guiding the pair of them this way and that.

A rush of reporters, dressed for the weather with raincoats and large brimmed hats, flooded towards the winner. Yeosang slung his black tennis racket over his shoulder, smiling and waving at the flashing paparazzi’s cameras. Her eyes shut at the bright lights. San’s hand squeezed her waist and tugged her closer.

“Sir, congratulations!” There were cries of celebration and excitement. “Good show! Good show!”

YN wasn’t used to such fanfare, and it made her fantasize of the flashing lights she was hopeful for. One day… she glanced over at Yeosang. She’d be like him. Successful. In his own right. He grinned politely at a reporter, waving with a tight structured wave.

“Mr. Kim! Is it true you know Kim Yunho?” she heard over the chatter.

Yunho… she had heard that name before. But where? She didn’t have time to think as San guided them throughout the crowd, his hand curling over her hip to keep her closer with the writhing crowd jostling them this way and that.

The athlete didn’t reply, and he let his friend guide him through the swarm until they entered a tented area. Once the tent’s curtains were tied together, Yeosang huffed.

“I despise paparazzi,” he admitted, scuffing his feet against the concrete as he walked.

The space wasn’t special, but it was private. Scattered about were a few folding chairs, a wrought-wire bench, and a grey-green locker. Yeosang went to it, and opened it with ease. Within it wasn’t much. A folded assortment of clothes, a letter plastered to the locker’s interior, an extra racket, and a water jug. He placed his dark racket within and picked up the water jug. Raising the glass jug to his mouth, he took a big gulp. San patted her hip encouragingly as he moved away going to sit on the nearby bench. YN tentatively took a seat in a folding chair.

“Your performances of Swan Lake are coming to an end, are they not?” Yeosang queried.

“Oh, yes. They are; will you be able to attend closing night… or any show anytime soon? I’d love to see you there.” she admitted.

Yeosang’s lips quirked against the water jug’s rim before he pulled it away. Swallowing, he nodded. “I would love to see you once more, Miss YN. In your element.”

“You must encourage him to come backstage,” she turned to San. Less asking and more pressing.

He nodded in agreement. Easily swayed by his lovers, he leaned back in his seat casually.

“Is it like this?” Yeosang asked; a hand went to push back his locks, sweatied and damp.

The sight of his sharp brows quirking in curiosity sent a flare of excitement through her. He was so handsome; she couldn’t help but awe. San chuckled at her ogling.

“It isn’t, Yeo.” San admitted. “The backstage is grand and too open with too many girls running about half-dressed and men staring at them.”

Yeosang’s eyes flickered to him. “Even our girl?”

San glanced at her, head tilting. “Not as of late.”

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it in between his lips. The look he gave Yeosang confused her – sharp, dark, and biting as he bit down on the cigarette before fiddling with a silver lighter. Yeosang hummed lowly.

“San and Wooyoung are polite,” she said, as if that would help the conversation. As if that was the topic at hand. “They’re the best gentleman in the boudoir. Honest.”

San grinned around his cigarette as he finally lit it. He knew she spoke the truth. She always did around him now. It made him happy to know she was so comfortable around them that she didn’t even notice the glares he sent the way of any man that dared eye her as she switched costumes.

Little did she know what would happen to one if they did. 

He puffed out smoke.

“I’d rather see you outside this boudoir then,” Yeosang commented, closing the locker’s door. “I don’t wish to see you improperly, sweetheart. I wouldn’t put you in that situation.”

“We don’t mean to either,” San coughed out, the smoke scattering about bashfully. He turned to look at her with the gentlest of eyes. “You’re painting me to be a villain, Yeo.”

“No, I know,” she interrupted. “I know San and Woo mean well.”

They had said so since the beginning. Wooyoung claimed he didn’t even know he was playing as potential patron until San said so. And now, well, she felt safe around them. When she was with them, when she was introduced to Yeosang, it made her feel permanent. Not a doll on a music box to show off around the right clientele.

Imara never had this.

“Still,” Yeosang tutted. “I’d hate that. If I had those reporters watching every little move I made back here.” He bared his teeth. “I’m sorry you have to suffer that, sweetheart.”

-

“Do you want diamonds?” San asked.

This was the fifth time he had asked if she wanted some grand gift as they walked home. The umbrella San had kept them mostly dry in the drizzle. YN knew he felt bad about the boudoir. Especially at Yeosang’s commentary.

“No,” she let out a chuckle.

“More pearls?” Not his favorite thing, but they looked pretty around her neck and they were useful.

“No,” she giggled, swinging their conjoined hands.

“Then what, honey?” he whined a bit, sounding childlike as he squeezed onto her hand.

She was surprised this bulky beefy man was acting so openly whiney in public. He didn’t need the illusion of masculinity to cling to; there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude. Even if he was acting like a child.

“I’m okay,” she said. 

He licked the back of his lips. Doubtful. He frowned before stopping in the streets. The lamplighters were out and about, lighting the last remaining candle lights amongst the new gas-line lamps. He didn’t falter. He didn’t care if they were intimately close. His hand around her wrist as he pulled her close in the wet setting sun.

“What do you truly want, honey?”

What did she truly want? She smiled up at him. All her life she had only wanted and yearned for one thing – til Wooyoung and him and Yeosang all tumbled into her life that is.

“I want to be a ballerina. The ballerina prima,” she told him sincerely. Her hand rose to pat his cheek softly. “You are helping me get it.”

His lips pouted as he looked down at her. He didn’t like that answer. That was a harder request. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead, he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her lips, so quick one would’ve missed it if it hadn’t tasted of champagne and cigarette smoke. His sweetened coffee cologne wafted over her soothingly like a chaser.

-

“Extra edition!” a newsboy cried out.

YN had been walking towards the newest restaurant that San and Wooyoung insisted on trying. It was expensive. Far too expensive for her, but San insisted per usual and Wooyoung pouted that without her he’d be bored. So, here she was walking the streets towards the richer side of town. The richer side of town where all the newsies made their routes; the rich had money to spare.

“Star tennis player Kim Yeosang associated with Kim Yunho, the man released on 1 million coin for murder in broad-daylight! Shocking details revealed.”

Now, that caught her attention. Her feet slowed until she came to a stop. For once, it felt like the newsies had given just enough information to lure her in. Her coin purse pressed against her thigh was heavy. Heavy enough to spare a few coins to buy the paper.

“I’ll take one, Jack,” she told him, digging into her pocket to hand him the necessary amount.

The younger grinned up at her. “Thank you, Miss YN.” He shuffled the heavy stack around, untying the twine to present the fresh-printed and warm newspaper her way.

She nodded in thanks as she unraveled it and began to read.

-

San and Wooyoung sat in the corner of a restaurant, talking lowly in the shadows as they waited. Only to be interrupted by a newspaper being plopped down on the table. Their eyes shifted from one another to the newspaper. Doubtful, almost darkened looks were engrained in their faces before they glanced upward to see their swanette. Haloed by the light pouring into the café, her arms were crossed; brow raised. Their expressions softened immediately like butter.

“Hello, honey,” San rumbled. He tugged the chair out for her.

“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung added.

They hadnt looked at the paper yet.

“What the fuck is this?” she murmured, taking the seat easily as she shoved the headline their way.

Wooyoung licked his lips at her expletive. She didn’t curse much in the boudoir. Hearing it made his cell burn, biting at his lower lip after a moment. He glanced down at the paper; that hot feeling fizzled at the headline. He sighed, head rolling back, before he glanced San’s way. San’s expression hadn’t shifted; not even a twitch of his brow as he looked over his glasses at his partner.

“It’s a long story,” Wooyoung replied.

“I’ve got time,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “Start with the part where Kim Yunho is living in your mansion. Kim Yunho, the man who shot a near-billionaire, dead, in broad-daylight after a supposed bet gone wrong.”

Her voice raised as she retold what the inky print said. She didn’t look intimidating in their eyes. Especially with her pout. San wanted to kiss it off her. Instead, he offered, “Yunho’s got a complicated past, but he only acted in self-defense.”

“He shot a man in broad daylight. Is Yeosang safe? Are you?” she worried. “Hongjoong?”

Wooyoung scooted close at that, hating the way her voice accelerated. San chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

“Oh, little bird,” Wooyoung hummed, taking her hand. “We are safe. We are safe. You don’t need to worry – is that why you are so upset?”

She frowned at them, her furrowed brow deepening. Wooyoung cooed.

“You are, oh, baby,” he hugged her, nearly joining her on her chair. “You are sweet, YN.”

“I’m worried; you are with a criminal,” she mumbled out, making sure her words were too loud. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Wooyoung stole a kiss. “You really are a doll, an angel. We are okay I promise.”

“You can’t just kiss me and tell me it’s okay. How? How is it okay?”

“Yunho is a free-man,” San reminded. “He didn’t break out of jail; he served his time; he paid his fees; he was let go. But apparently caught the attention of the press while doing so.”

“Poor Yeosang,” YN lamented suddenly. “He hated the paparazzi and now-“ she buried her head into Wooyoung’s shoulder.

The younger cooed. His hand going to pet at her back as he glanced over at San while her back was turned. There was a rustling of the newspaper, the crinkling paper being folded over.

“Yeosang will live. He’s been reported on his entire life. Yunho will not hurt us, promise, honey.” San replied. “You’re working yourself up. I’ll get you tea.”

There was a snapping sound of his fingers. A waiter obediently came. The man whispered his order as Wooyoung murmured to YN.

“It’s alright. It really is. You’ll see.”

San and Wooyoung’s eyes met once more.

They should’ve let Yunho meet her before this all happened; their shared grimaces said so.

-

Not even a day later, there were rumors about town. That night whispers about her patrons were all about the boudoir. The Ateez House truly was haunted some said. It had a killer living there. It made her scoff. There were seven others in that house – how could you build a house to be broken and haunted by one person?

The next day, a man from the newspaper company, the Cromer Chronicle, was missing. He had disappeared in the night without a trace. Or well, there was a trace. A letter saying he was going on vacation for a while. But few believed it.

Gossip roared. What was even more interesting, was that the newspaper headlines the next day were completely free of any mentions of Kim Yeosang or Kim Yunho.

But on her vanity, a letter rested with her name in an elaborate script signed by a certain man. The seal was the same ‘A’ emblem that both San and Wooyoung wore on a gold ring.

Miss YN.

You are cordially invited to join Kim Yeosang at the Ateez House estate for a night of fine dining. Casual attire permitted. I am so excited to see you again – if you will join me!  

Yours,

Kim Yeosang

“Did you place this on the vanity?” she asked the two men who sat side by side on a sofa. Sometimes they looked too close for comfort; tonight was one of those nights. Wooyoung was nearly draped across San’s chest, his head cradled on his muscular shoulder as he stared up at her.

“No, swanette,” Wooyoung claimed. “Our hands are clean in this.”

He raised his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers playfully at her.

“Yeosangie must’ve liked you,” San added with a smirk.

“You’d know,” Wooyoung muttered; San grasped the other’s hip warningly.

Wooyoung giggled out almost like a hyena, head tilting back in mischief.

“You should’ve seen how he looked at her, Wooyo,” San continued, his gaze flickering towards YN from over his spectacles.

“I know,” the other giggled.

“Will you be there?” she asked tentatively.

Her fingers fiddled with the corner of the thick cardstock Yeosang’s handwriting graced. She was used to their presence. They felt safe to her. They glanced at one another. San’s fingers trailed up and down Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung went to interlace their fingers smoothly. Squeezing it once and then twice.

“I’m not sure, honey,” San said. “We have business to attend to this weekend.”

“Sorry, pretty,” Wooyoung pouted at her. “We may see you in passing? If you miss us so much, we can meet you here early the next day. I want to hear all about you and Yeosangie.”

She smiled sweetly at them, flushing at the idea that the pair of them encouraged her to dine and possible flirt with another. It was strange but not… unfavorable. Yeosang was handsome. He was delicate but strong. Eloquent and interesting. Understanding. She liked his company. Despite the company he kept… her mind flickered back to the elephant in the room… or yesterday’s newspaper in the nearby waste basket.

“Is… Yunho –“ she asked, shifting this way and that. San couldn’t help but think she looked so sweet, so innocent, so naïve in her little feather tutu, all virginal white. “Is it safe for me - with Yunho there?”

They didn’t even need to look at one another. Wooyoung’s hand held San’s tighter as he shifted his gaze to simmer on her.

“Yunho would never hurt a lady, honey,” San replied, sincerely and instantaneously.

His hand outstretched for her to take. Which she did. It was San after all. Secure, sweet, strong San. He’s been so straightforward. She trusted him. His fingers caressed over her knuckles, “Especially you.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I believe you.”

“Yeosang will be excited.” San promised, raising her hand for him to press a kiss to her knuckles. “We can deliver the news to him when we get home.”

He pressed a peck to each knuckle before continuing up her hand to press kisses over his bracelet. He placed a final sweet kiss to her pulse before pulling away, and pulling her towards their embrace. San could hold both of them in his lap after all. Wooyoung slid further down on the settee until his head rested on one of San’s thighs. His lips curled.

“I will send a car for you, swanette. You won’t have to lift a foot,” Wooyoung promised, reaching a hand up to tuck hair aside as she sat on San’s rippling thigh. “Easy-peasy.”

-

It was her first time in an automobile. She had traveled in carriages and open buggies but never something so expensive as a brand-new automobile. Something so polished and metallic and rich. Her excitement was almost like a child’s; her smile was bright at the sight of the car sitting curbside. Its lacquer was a deep-olive color, gleaming in the golden sunlight peeking out of the rain-heavy clouds. The chill that nipped at her heels and the rain that itched at the sky made her thankful that Wooyoung had sent a car for her – even if every single one of her neighbors were being nosey. She could see their faces pressed to their windows with curtains shoved aside haphazardly. No cars came here. And certainly, no car like this.

The driver was tall and handsome, his dark brown hair styled sharply across his forehead. A multi-layered suit with shimmering gold detailing looked expensive on his form, a long-coat making his appearance look clean cut and sleek. Just like the car.

His entrancing eyes were dark, siren-like as they locked onto her form as she hopped gracefully down the icy steps. He felt his breath catch. A mix of excitement and fear tumbled through his stomach. She looked so pretty. Her hair was done nicely and modern. Her day-dress was a pretty (if a bit washed out) green color, complimenting the car’s hue perfectly. The sparkle of her pearls around her throat and her diamond bracelet peeking from beneath the sleeve of the dark fur coat made him smile. His full lips quirked into a smirk of a close-lipped smile.

His eyes haven’t left her form yet. Not even when her mother stepped out to awe at the car and the man waiting for her on the curb.

“Hello, doll.” He greeted her, polite with a deep-voice.

His hand, covered in multiple rings, opened the passenger door for her.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, and he wanted to swoon then and there. But he stayed firm, icy, tall. It wasn’t his turn. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. But he knew the way to her house; he had a car. And he was higher than Wooyoung or San in the hierarchy. He’d do what he wanted to do… as long as the Captain allowed that is.

His eyes didn’t leave her as she entered the automobile, tucking her dresses beneath her lady-like. He closed the door behind her and circled around the car to enter the driver’s seat. He took a shaky breath before entering; he felt like a school boy. When was that a feeling he’s felt recently? (The Ateez House would say every time he whined and pouted at them like a princess.)

The interior of the car smelt expensive, too. The well-taken care of leather, the wiped down metal accessories, everything reeked of rich maintenance. Her eyes ate up the new machine, looking at the gearshift, the polished controls. There was even a record player in the dash.

She never realized how rich they were. It surprised her. He ate up how her eyes widened, and she sat so delicate, hands in her lap as if touching something would bite her. She was so cute. His lips curled into a smirk as he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she let out a little sound of surprise.

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating around her. She glanced over at her driver. He looked casual in the driver’s seat. One hand was on the wheel; the gleam of an expensive watch shone at her. He was leaning back, his hand cupping the back of her car seat carefully as he began to pull the car away into the street.

He didn’t want to intimidate her. Wooyoung had said she was already so nervous about Yunho. So, he didn’t speak, didn’t tease, didn’t do much except drive. He enjoyed her gaze on him though. He watched her so many times that it made the back of his neck and the tips of his ears burn pleasantly. He tongued at his canines, hiding his smirk. His plush lips pursed instead.

Her awe shifted as he sped up, her eyes flickering to the streets that passed by, faster, faster, faster. Faster than any carriage or bike or trolley. It sent a whirl of excitement in her stomach.

“This is my first time in an automobile,” she admitted into the silence.

“It is?” his voice was deep as honey, and it made her spine tingle.

He glanced over at her. He wanted to show her so many new things. He was glad to have one of her firsts. Wooyoung had stolen so many. Her first date, her first kiss, her first embrace. He’d at least be her first car ride – one of many. He’d take her in any of his cars – if they were in the countryside rather than the city, he’d show her how fast these automobiles can go. He’d impress her. They’d go one day, he imagined. They’d go all sorts of places together. He’d show her the world if she wished it.

She hummed out in agreement, pulling him from his daydream.

“It’s nice,” she complimented, shifting her seat.

A flood of rose-petal aroma consumed him. Her perfumed skin. She put so much care into this; into them. It was intoxicating. His eyes locked on the road, his fingers trembling lightly. He flexed his hand and gripped the leather of the wheel tighter.

“Thank you, darling.”

The car ride was a quick one. Ateez House was on the outskirts of the city but not too far away to be a long journey. Just far enough to be private amongst the trees and rolling hills. It looked more alive than it had ever been in all the years she lived in Cromer. While the estate was sprawling and the mansion itself large and imposing with a complicated layout, it always looked abandoned. But now, there were crystal windows gleaming with light, gardeners trimming bushes, and luxury cars pulling into a nearby car garage. People tended to the large fountain in the center of the roundabout driveway, despite the threatening rain that rumbled in the sky. The mansion’s greyness seemed to fade with the orange-light the windows poured into the evening.

It was a phantom resurrected; the flame of life was burning within the house once more.

Mingi cleared his throat. “Welcome to Ateez House, YN.”

Her eyes were locked on his home; winding over the overlapping rooftops, grazing the glowing windows to see if anyone was looking out at them. Two figures, dark silhouettes at most, stood on the upper floor, one short and the other tall.

Her head tilted in curiosity before they walked off.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him before going to open her door. “And thank you for the drive.”

There was a squeak of leather as he shifted closer suddenly. His arm outstretched over her, bracing over her chest. Her gasp was all the sound that filled the air between them. Her head turned and they were nearly nose-to-nose.

He was so close. The blood-orange of his cologne licked at her senses, mingling with the polished leather so refreshingly. He smelled intoxicating and sharp. His face was only inches away; the fabric of his long-coat brushed against her. His hand closed around the metal handle of the car door, gently nudging hers aside. He laughed out nervously. His eyes were wide and gentle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he flashed the sweetest grin she had ever seen, all toothy and bright. It sparkled… wait, he had diamonds on his teeth. His canines were adorned with gems that gleamed in the setting sun.

“Let me,” he bumbled out. He opened the door from within, before pulling his arm back. His cheeks were painted a rosy color that only made his flustered appearance look more sweet.

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grin of her own.

She hoped he wasn’t too surprised by her own initial surprise. He was just trying to be a gentleman she realized. Bowing her head, she quickly ducked out of the car, closing the door behind her with care.

The only thought that filled his brain – besides the intoxicating smell of YN – was ‘damn you for winning, Yunho.’ After a long moment of breathing the remains of her deep into his lungs and watching her form walk towards his house, Mingi restarted the automobile with a rumble to guide it back to their private car garage. 

-

Everything reeked of extravagance. Tall walls with recess ceilings and wainscotting details. Gilded gold and glowing gas-lamps. Italian-Renaissance inspired tiles of saints, angels, and the Heavens were inlayed in the ceiling. The floor was patterned, a rich expensive textile making up the carpet.

There were butlers lining the walls of the foyer; all in matching midnight pin-striped suits. It was almost eerie. They were like statues, repeating over and over and over. Expressionless. Each face was stoney, eyes ahead. It reminded her of when the ballet troupe lined up in their matching leotards and were separated by height; row after row. Slicked back hair, delicate body lines, starving ribs. Identical and indistinguishable until they reached prima title.

None of them acknowledged her except for one, a rogue, that walked up and nodded at her politely.

“Welcome to the mansion, Miss YN. Please, come.” He outstretched his hand to encourage her further into the lavish space.

She curtsied, uncertainly. One of the many ghostly butlers took her coat as she walked down the foyer’s hall. Her kitten heels were soft against the carpet flooring until they rounded a corner. They click-clacked across marble flooring, polished ‘til she could see her reflection.

“Mr. Yeosang has requested a meal to be prepared at the West Wing. Please follow me.” The same butler spoke once more before he turned to lead the way.

Following after him, she was awed by the space. The very place that had been teased and taunted and ghost storied about was a gleaming jewel. As they walked, she realized how each hallway, each living space was opulent. The current path had walls that were painted an ice-cold baby-blue. Yet there were touches of warmth everywhere. Fine art in gold-leafed frames, elaborate trims around columns and the floor were the same shining gold. The art was all heavenly. Literally. Gods, angels, and disciples portrayed in blurred brush strokes, painted with colors that ached of softness. Everything was all gold, fluff, and magnificence.

The ceiling had multiple heavy hanging chandeliers of pure jewels. Diamonds dripped from its wire frame and sparkled in the gas-light. Everywhere was gaslit; she was surprised. No one had notice workers here and yet it was modern. Not a speck of dust or age present anywhere – besides the ancient art she supposed.

She slowed as she passed a large Renaissance-esque painting full of cherubs with feathered wings and glowing haloes. Squinting, she saw one figure wearing a ski mask. Huh? A cat meowed nearby. Her attention was caught, her head turning to the sound.  She stilled as she glanced down a nearby hall, one that seemed darker than the others. Doors lined each wall; all shut except for one at the end of that hall. It was opened just a crack, the siren call of a piano trickled out, and a little cat peered around its corner. The sweet cat was a midnight-black, almost blue-ish in tone; her tail twisted behind her as she meowed out again.

YN’s eyes lit up at the sight; the cat meowed again as it wiggled itself out of the doorway. Its paws and claws clinked against the tile, almost in rhythm with the piano music playing. Large green eyes peered up at her curiously as the cat approached; the collar around its throat was expensive – a leather thing with jewels, pearls, and a large silver bell that jingled out the closer it got.

She meowed at her again.

The piano stopped; the reverb humming out discordantly.

“Z?” a voice called out before a gentle melodic whistle chimed out.

The kitty’s attention was caught again, its ears perking up and meowing as if answering the call of its owner. It began to stroll back where it came from.

“Miss YN,” the butler’s monotonic called out.

Her head snapped towards him, answering his call immediately. She stood from the slight crouch she had taken for the kitten’s approach. Her butler stood some feet away, arms behind his back. She expected a disapproving look, but he provided none.

“Please follow me, Miss. We wouldn’t want you disappearing.”

That was almost worse! It sounded so ominous coming from his stone-faced mouth. She swallowed.

“Sorry,” she apologized before she quickened her pace to catch up to him.

“We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

They continued to walk down this hallway and that hallway. Someone could easily get lost here. It was like a grand castle. Finally, after crossing some carpeted stairs, they were in front of a grand hallway of windows. As they passed, she could see a dreary exterior. Rain had begun to pour, fogging the outside in grey. But she could distantly see a maze of hedges, rose bushes, apple trees, and all sorts of gardens awaiting. She awed at the sight as they continued down the carpeted hall to come to a set of dark oak doors.

“One moment, Miss,” the butler warned as he entered the room quickly.

“Boss, er, sir – “

The doors shut behind him before she could hear any more. She was left alone. YN glanced aside at the wall opposite of the windows. There were inlayed gas lamps, glowing a soft yellow. A portrait hung nearby, painted in a similar style as the painting she saw before.

It was of a young man, a handsome one at that. His inky-black hair was slicked back in shiny waves, a singular strand curled over his forehead daintily. He was in all white, soft silken tunic and oversized bowtie of virginal white. Despite the softness of his attire and of the atmosphere surrounding him (he was almost painted with his own divine halo as if he was an apostle), there was sharpness to his midnight-black eyes and the smirk of his mischievous smile. His ears were pierced up and down, pearls and fine metals looping them in sparkles. A twinkle was shining at the corner of his grin as if his teeth gleamed in the heavenly light around him. He was beautiful, but she couldn’t help but feel like his dark eyes were staring her down.

The tall doors opened behind her suddenly. YN turned to see the reveal of a dining hall as luxurious as the rest of the mansion. But the aroma that wafted from its interior was far more intoxicating.

“Enter, Miss YN.” The butler encouraged, beside the door.

He held them open for her as she took a stride inside. Her lips widening into a smile as she prepared to greet Yeosang at the head of the table. But this was no Yeosang she realized as she gazed down the long, lavish table to meet the dark gaze of a stranger.

With a calculated look, he stared at her from the head of a ten-chaired, decadent table of hot food. It was more than she had eaten in months even with San and Wooyoung: sizzling side dishes, steaks covered in thick luscious sauces, cracked fruits that had a sweet nectar gleaming on them, chocolate-oozing pastries. An open bottle of red wine rested in a frosted chest of ice; eight crystal glasses sat upside down. One glass of red wine sat in front of her spot; the other in the grasp of the man’s hand. The ruby liquid gleamed like blood. A sea of lit-candles decorated the spare space of the table; the chandelier above keeping the candles instead of trading them for their gas-lit counterpart. The orange glow illuminated the intimate room in a hazy feel. Smoke trailed out of his mouth in a long plume, perfuming the delicious air with the heady scent of tobacco.

“Hello.”

His voice was a soft drawl. His close-lip smile was the same. Soft, slow, and confident. His eyes were illuminated by the flickering candles, making the darkness there look like a night sky spattered with stars rather than with blood. He tapped his cigarette into a crystal ash tray with his long fingers. Rings after rings curled over his knuckles; some sharp and some with the emblem ‘A’ just like San and Wooyoung shared. He raised the cigarette back to his lips to take another drag into his lungs.

“YN.” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke her name tenderly.

She should’ve left then, knowing it was different from what she had agreed to. She should’ve asked him where Yeosang was immediately – and who was he? But she already knew, didn’t she? She had worried about this man since she read the newsprint that bore his name.

She shifted, fingers tugging at her skirt as she heard the heavy wood doors shut behind her. The butler that led her here disappearing, leaving her with him. Her fingers pressed into the door behind her, tentatively. It didn’t budge beneath her. In the shadows of the room, she saw there were men lining the wall. Like ghosts, they didn’t speak or move – they simply stood like gargoyles surrounding a castle. One broke the line to pull out her chair opposite of her dining companion. Her eyes flickered back to the man at the head of the table.

“Hello,” she said instead. “Yunho.”

It wasn’t a stutter, but there was a pause in her words. Yunho’s laughter was almost fond as he chuckled out a plume of smoke before she was urged forward with a flick of his hand. Ashes splattered across the white dining cloth, sizzling burns into the fabric. She sat down in the chair pulled out for her; the servant pushed her in towards the table with a screech of the wooden legs against the wood.

The silverware in front of her was polished, gleaming in the candle-light. A perfectly folded napkin rested on the center of her gold-lined plate. The initial ‘A’ in a circle was embroidered fancifully in shiny black thread on the pristine white fabric.

Her fingers flexed against the wood arm rests of her chair as she looked down the table, over candles, meats, cheese, and vegetables at the intimidating man. He was far away, but perhaps that was the safest option for her.

“I like you already,” he proclaimed, his words solid and confident. His smile simmered.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the piles of food in front of them with a hand, swinging the cigarette and a trailing path of smoke about. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Her stomach felt tight with nerves, but even so it grumbled at the sight before her. Everything smelt so nice and rich and oily. Decadent. She licked her rosy lips, dragging her eyes up to look at him once more.

“Where’s Yeosang?” she asked finally.

He smiled, a peak of glimmering teeth shining in the candlelight. No, it wasn’t his teeth that shined – it was the inlayed diamonds on his canines that twinkled. Just like the driver. Just like the painting.

“He’ll join us,” Yunho reassured. “He’s running late from a previous engagement. I promise.”

Her gaze was doubtful. Why didn’t he just tell the driver to alert her? She could wait. She was used to waiting upon rich men.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I was curious of you.” He stated as he raised his cigarette to his mouth once more. As he breathed out, he gestured again at the food. “Please help yourself. Wooyoung told me some of your favorites.”

There were her favorites; steaming and hot. Some tartlets from their recent date sat on a pearlescent serving tray. Tempting. Her stomach grumbled. Watching him carefully, she reached out a fork to stab into a piece of meat and plating it.

“I’m just a ballerina,” she claimed, eyes flashing to look at him as she picked up her utensils to cut at the singular item on her plate.

Yunho’s lips quirked up on one side before he glanced aside at a man. He nodded towards her and she couldn’t help but jump as a suited butler approached. Yunho’s gaze took in the small tension that rippled through her.

The butler began to pile up her plate with this and that. Steaming vegetables, savory pastries, fluffy mashed potatoes scented with garlic, sticky soy-sauce braised meats, pasta with a rich cream sauce, seafood with clarified butter. It was more food than she could finish. The amount of food laid out was enough to feed eight men.

“You’ve entranced my brothers for being more than just a dancer,” Yunho commented. “I wanted to see what was so special about their swanette.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. She felt like a trapped bird in a zoo being observed. She tried to imagine the boudoir around her rather than the intimacy of a dining table.

“I’m a good dancer,” she told him boldly. They like bold, an older ballerina’s voice was in her ear once more.

Yunho smiled. “I heard. I apologize for never attending a performance.” He said.

“You’ve been… busy,” she said. But not too bold. Another ballerina warned.

It was a dig, and Yunho knew it. She knew it too with how wide her eyes became. And still, his lips curled into a smile, his eyes simmered.

“Its no wonder Wooyoung took to you,” he breathed.

He raised his glass of wine to his lips and took a long sip. At the mention of Wooyoung, he saw the way the muscles in her face flickered. Lightening. Interesting. Placing the glass down, he leaned forwards, hand resting under his chin as he stared at her, intrigued.

She was intriguing. She had four members of the family wrapped around her little finger and here she was in his sticky webs. Yunho ached to figure her out, dive deeper. The vein in his forehead bulged a bit with his intensity.

His eyes felt magnetic. She had cut up her slice of steak into tiny bites at this point, but all he had done was stare at her. He had not a lick of food on his own plate. It felt more like an interrogation than a meal at this point.

So, she stared back. Her eyes met his, swallowing down her fear. The twisted mangled amalgamation of fear, intrigue, and something else. She was safe, she chanted internally. Wooyoung promised. San promised. He hadn’t done anything to her…yet.

She took in his appearance. While his eyes were a hypnotizing thing, his entire face was like one of a siren’s. Handsome with chiseled features. Sharp cupid’s bowed lips, sharp brows, sharp clean lines of his suit. A pair of glasses were tucked into his pocket… he needed glasses just like her Sannie. Her eyes darted up the line of his throat. His hand rose to bring his cigarette back to his lips. He tilted his head, the midnight-black hair swaying over one eyebrow smartly.

How were all these men so handsome? The driver, her patrons, Yeosang, Yunho. All breathtaking compared to the oil-grubby handed rich men of Cromer. It made her soften just a smidge, guard walls lowering as he breathed out smoke once more. Lips pursing delicately. Cheeks soft, she noticed. It was quiet. The clinking of her utensils against her meal was the only sound in the hall.

“Do you like dancing?” she asked. Dancing was safe. Dancing was all she knew.

“Enough,” he said. “My brothers like it more than myself.”

Brothers he said again. It was strange. Wooyoung spoke of the others as friends, dear ones – explained that the shared last name was something pushed upon them. Yunho embraced it.

“Then, sports?” she countered. “Tennis perhaps?”

Yunho chuckled lowly, and it felt like a tiger’s rumble. “No,” he laughed. “Not particularly – though, I have good hand-eye coordination.”

Her mind flashed to the shooting the newspaper relayed – a fictionalized imagining in her head bloomed. Him and his gun aiming and firing with ease, just like that man in the alley way.

“Oh,” she breathed.

He wondered if she knew how blatant her face revealed things. Her fear, her thoughts, her soul. It was strange though. Yunho didn’t want her frightened.

“I play against Yeosang often,” he clarified.

“Oh,” she repeated, a different tone trickling into her exclamation. Her knife scraped against the plate’s china, screeching out suddenly like a soprano at an opera house. Her gaze turned to it, surprised.

Her meat was completely shredded now. Almost inedible with how much she had sawed into it over and over.

Yunho laughed again, the sound warm and full. “Darling,” he cooed out, soft. “Please relax and eat. I insist. Yeosang won’t mind.”

Yeosang. Of course, that’s why she was prolonging it. Her smile was bashful and Yunho’s eyes swallowed it up just like she bit into a piece of her meal finally.

“Will you not eat?” she asked.

Innocent, sweet. Yunho’s eyes simmered as he reached out to grasp a fruit from an intricately weaved wired basket. He bit into a red apple, sharp and vicious. Juice dripped over his fingers, down his chin. He raised a black napkin to the corner of his lips wiping it away. His eye contact never ceased. Did he just wink?

“How long have you lived in Cromer?” he asked.

“My entire life,” she admitted.

He hummed out. “And the ballet almost as long I suppose?”

“Ballerinas are taught young,” she said.

“The best way to shape someone.” He snubbed his cigarette out in his ash tray.

“I suppose,” she admitted. “But I love dancing. Truly.”

It was spoken sincerely, passionately. He nodded. “It’s been mentioned. They say one can tell by just the way you breath. You are full of it.”

“D-dancing?” she queried.

“Love.” he countered. “Passion.”

Her eyes blinked owlishly. “Oh.”

“Do you love them?” he asked directly. His head tilted curiously.

The topic had shifted in tone dramatically suddenly. Her heart raced to its hummingbird speed once more. Her face blushed. Yunho drank it all in like the wine in his glass.

There was a clambering down the hall way, muffled by the oak doors. Her gaze broken from his, and she looked over her shoulder at the doorway.

“Here he comes now,” Yunho whispered.

As predicted, Yeosang came busting through the doors. His hair askew, his eyes burning with the cruel fury she had only seen on the court. His elegant clothes looked rumpled; the softness of his sweater that cut into a deep v revealed more skin that she had seen of the sportsman yet. A rose was pinned on his chest, gentlemanly, and yet somehow tempting her to stare at his chiseled chest more. A decorative scarf wrapped around his throat, disheveled.

He glared at Yunho with such contempt before it was washed away at the sight of her. He glanced her up and down, quickly as if his lingering gaze would be scolded. Appropriately for such an inappropriate action. His lips parted gently; his rounded face soft with a gentle blush.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he immediately apologized, head bowing.

The long strands of russet-brown hair that framed his face swooped over his cheeks. His hand rose to tuck one strand back. “I was caught up with something unexpectedly.”

With little show, she stood, discarding her utensils to greet him. Her smile was soft, reassuring, genuine. She ducked her own head to catch his gaze – he was still glaring through his lashes at the man at the head of the table she noticed. But when he saw her own face come into view he straightened sweetly, awkwardly. But in such a charming way somehow. Yeosang was so charming even in his anger and discomfort. She didn’t want him to be in discomfort.

“Its alright,” she reassured him.

“We’ve just been chatting,” Yunho chimed from the end of the table. Unhelpfully.

Yeosang adjusted his leather gloves nervously, tugging them off finger by finger.

“I see that.” Yeosang rumbled.

His eyes settled back on her like she was his seas’ moon.

“You look lovely, YN,” he complimented. Her smile lit up the room, he swore.

He licked his lips, deep voice humming out as he looked over the table.

“I-I,” he gestured to the table, the meal he had ordered the chef to prepare, “I have those tarts you liked at the café on Riverfield Street.”

She smiled at him; he was so cute.

“Thank you,” she grinned. “And I saw. They look perfect.”

He breathed out a little, fixing his clothes once he tucked his gloves into his back pocket.

“It’s been perfect,” she tried to reassure him, sensing his anxieties. His blooming nerves. Her hand reached out to squeeze his.

He jolted at her touch, just enough for her to catch it. His ears were red. Yunho’s grin was wide, sparkling.

“Thank you for the invite.”

“Of course, I wanted –” he glanced at Yunho’s leering gaze. “I wanted to get to know you better, sweetheart.”

“And we shall,” Yunho agreed. “Sit, Sangie. Let’s eat.”

A butler appeared to pull out a seat for him. It wasn’t near either of them, in fact. It was the third seat to the left side of the table. Yeosang glanced at the butler silently before pulling out the chair directly beside YN and seating himself.

He was served a selection of the meal, silently. She went to break the silence.

“How are you?” The headline still brandished itself in her mind. His words about paparazzi left a lasting impact.

Yeosang huffed out. “Well,” he replied. “News articles come and go. I’ll remain on top of my game regardless.”

Yunho nodded steadfastly from across the table. “It’ll be nothing by the next game.”

Yeosang offered her a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me. I’ve survived worse.”

She nodded solemnly. “I don’t like it still.” Yunho watched the interaction carefully. His brow quirked.

“How are you liking Cromer?” she asked. She was used to asking men how they enjoyed the show… but that wasn’t an option here when the room lulled into silence.

“It’s different. But I’ve seen places as beautiful as Aurora, as desolate as the Strictlands, and as rural as Paradise. Cromer reminds me of Aurora in a different way.” Yeosang explained. “It feels homely.”

She smiled. “Ateez House is yours, correct?”

“Its in the family,” Yeosang replied.

“What do you think of it?” Yunho queried.

“Its very nice,” she politely said.

Yeosang tilted his head fondly at her. “Meaning?”

Her brows crinkled in surprise. “Its—nice?” she repeated.

“Shall I remind you what San encourages you to do, sweetheart?”

To be honest. How did he know about that? Her neck and ears became a soft pink in the candlelight. Swallowing, she glanced to the side.

“It is genuinely nice – its just… this house has been called haunted my whole life,” she told them. “There are ghost stories linked to this mansion. It’s strange being here and seeing that it is, in fact, not rotting or some supernatural force of nature.”

Yeosang chuckled out, smiling sweet.

“There are stories?” he leaned in. “Do tell!”

“I love a good gruesome story,” Yunho commented.

But for some reason, the way the words lilted in his tone didn’t make her flinch like before… in fact, was he teasing her? Her eyes flickered from Yeosang’s open form to Yunho. His cheek rested on his hand; elbow pressed into the table as he eyed her with Yeosang.

He smirked at her as they met one another’s eyes. He nodded, urging her. And so, YN went into the ghost story she had been told as a little girl, sitting among the tutu’ed training ballerinas while her mother did alterations on the prima’s show-stopping costume.

“The story goes that this house was home to a Captain,” she started, twirling pasta about her fork as she spoke.

Yunho and Yeosang’s eyes locked.

“The Captain was no ordinary captain; he was the fiercest pirate king of all. With his crew, the Black Pirates, they terrorized the seas and reaped countless treasures. When he grew old and hoarding like a dragon, he docked at Cromer under a false name. Ateez House was built upon blood-soaked jewels and coins; they say the pirate captain passed in his vault, hidden deep in the mansion’s basements. His bones are still there, unrested. His ghost terrorizes the house and refuses to let any soul except his pirates’ prowl.” She dramatically told.

Her fingers wiggled sensationally. “Or that the treasure was haunted by those they robbed and killed mercilessly. Their ghosts remain and haunt these halls.” She shrugged her hands landing back in her lap. “The story changes every so often.”

“What a story,” Yunho breathed. “Do you believe it?”

“It’s just a story. Maybe there are some real parts but… ghosts aren’t real. I’m not that silly of a girl.”

“You aren’t,” Yeosang commented immediately.

“But everyone in town knows it, so it sticks,” she told them, reaching out for the glass of wine in front of her and taking a sip.

“Cromer loves its gossip.” Yeosang commented.

“They’re stuck in their ways,” Yunho added.

“What do you think of Cromer?” she redirected to Yunho.

He took a small breath in. His previous grimace faded and his brow crinkled as he looked at her thoughtfully. His lips pressed together before replying.

“At first,” Yunho said, tilting his chin. “I did not like it… but now…”

His gaze felt hot, ever present. There wasn’t a barrier of modesty she often felt with other men. Yeosang’s was intense. San’s was careful, observant. Wooyoung’s eager and challenging. Yunho’s was steadfast. Confident. Even the men in the boudoir knew there were limits. They had their wives. They had their image with the other men within the boudoir itself. Here she felt both hunted and examined. Admired but equal. He was looking at her soul.

“Now, I like it.” Yunho purred. “Very much, darling.”

He placed his silverware down with a clink. He leaned forwards, hands pressing into the table.

“There’s more to you that meets the eye,” Yunho commented. “I see that, so now I will let you speak your mind, truthfully.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was he going to ask her about her love again? In front of Yeosang?! Her eyes remained on him steadily. Her ears burned.

“You’re frightened of me, yes?” he said.

It was strange to feel relief at the confirmation of something so horrible. Because she was still nervous around him, for his boldness frightened her just as much as his previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes shifted to her, widening as he watched her nod.

“Sweetheart,” he reached out for her hand, petting her phalanges but not grabbing it. He simply wished to reassure her. Just as she had done for him earlier.

“San and Wooyoung said I didn’t have to be,” she replied. She licked her lips.

“Ask me what you want to know.” He stretched back into his chair, neck flexing as he met her gaze.

“Is it true? Should I be frightened?”

“That’s not it,” he laughed a bit, lip curling almost scornfully, scoldingly. He raised a brow, head tilting as if weighing his options. “But no, you don’t need to be frightened. Ask another.”

“I don’t have another question.” She countered, only to state simply and firmly. “You shot a man.”

And he smiled. “I did.” Yunho confirmed.

“On purpose?” she asked.

“Yes, darling.”

Her blood felt cold. She hadn’t met someone like him and it sent her stomach into a cramping mess. Yeosang did take her hand now. Interlacing his fingers softly. He glanced over at his elder as he rose from his chair. Oh, Yunho was tall. Very tall, in fact. With them sitting, he looked giant. His heels thudded against the floor.

“Why?” she asked. Yeosang felt her hand tighten in his grasp.

“He tried to fool me, steal from me,” Yunho stated, walking towards them. “Lied to me. I don’t like being played.”

There wasn’t a moment for the words to sink in for YN. Instead, like a game of tennis, she shot back.

“So, you shot him? Just like that?”

“For your information, yes.”  

“That’s frightening.”

“Yes.” Yunho was beside Yeosang now.

“But!” Yeosang was the next to interrupt. “If you must know… Yunho isn’t some cruel man, sweetheart. It was done in self-defense.”

“Self-defense?” she asked doubtfully. Wooyoung and San said so themselves as well.

The air that Yunho carried seemed to be more than that. He wasn’t exactly proud, but he was at peace with what he did. Yunho’s face pulled into a tight thing as he rested a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. They both looked at her inquiringly.

“He pulled a blade on Yunho,” Yeosang interjected. His gaze flashed to her. “He has the scars to prove it.”

They had an answer to everything. It was self-defense. Not a thing of violence. Of necessity.

She stared at them

“It wasn’t… he struck first?” she repeated slowly.

They glanced at one another before smiling at her with dual grins. Yunho tapped his fingers on Yeosang’s shoulder before he pulled back. A hand went to his chest, gentlemanly and earnest in nature.

“Yes.” He ensured.

Her eyes flickered to Yeosang. He had been a sensible figure – likeable, nothing formidable. If he trusted him, if her Wooyoung and San did. Yunho spoke with such authority. He valued truth just like San did.

Her defensiveness, something she didn’t even see in her body language, softened. Yunho’s sigh was one of understanding as he walked back to his seat, stealing a glance at her. He smiled again, his teeth gleaming in the cande light.

“YN.” He spoke her name luxuriously. “If there is one thing you should know about me. I don’t do mess.”

He plucked a dessert from his plate, biting into the chocolate with slowness. Calculated. He kept her gaze. It sent a thrill through her; he sent a thrill through her. Swallowing together, the corner of his lip curled. He raised a napkin to his lips, gentlemanly.

He was a gentleman, straightforward and powerful. He had to be telling the truth.

“I’m not a messy man, darling-doll.”

The dinner didn’t last much longer. Yeosang encouraged conversation; Yunho threw in some topics, mostly of things she had mentioned to San and Wooyoung. It struck her then that they shared many stories about her. They must’ve talked about her a lot. It made her cheeks flush as red as the chocolate strawberries Yunho ate.

Their eyes were hot on her; it felt like they were captivated and it made her heart race. Like she was on the stage.

She liked it.

Surprisingly, her two patrons made an appearance at the end of the meal. Wooyoung, of course, was the one to pop his head into the grand dining room.

“Swanette!” he beamed at the sight of her.

Yunho took in how her shoulders softened and her chest heaved at the sight of Wooyoung, at his voice. He smiled, softer and truer than any other smile he shared tonight so far.

Wooyoung was dressed the most casual she had ever seen him. A fashionable patterned white-and-black button-up shirt was barely buttoned, revealing a black ribbed tank-top beneath it. His hair was pushed back casually and messy; a rolled cigarette was behind his ear. His slacks were a deep black, loose and flowy rather than a structured fabric.

“Woo,” she barely got out, her mouth dropping at the sight of him.

He smirked, arms slinking over the chair and over her shoulders.

“Hello hyungs,” he greeted the others, barely glancing at them before ducking his head and pressing a less-than-decent kiss to her mouth. Smothering and all consuming. She squeaked into it. A ringed hand rose to cup her guide her head in the kiss, icy cold against her flushed red cheek.

Yeosang and Yunho chuckled out. The sound was a mixture of fondness and annoyance. Yunho’s brow twitched. Yeosang’s hand held hers tighter… he hadn’t let go, of course. But YN hadn’t noticed the entire dinner and dessert. ‘Til now. Her fingers flexed in his as Wooyoung swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Alright,” San scolded Wooyoung, his hand going to the back of the shorter’s neck. He nearly pried him off her. “Wooyoung!”

“I missed her,” Wooyoung said simply, flushed face and breathless.

His hot breath fanned over her rosy face; his lips were spicy and left hers burning. Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he stole another kiss from her lips. San pulled him back again with a harsher hand.

It was then she got a glance of her other patron. San had freshly washed hair, the locks combed out and dripping over his forehead. He wore a similar tank top to Wooyoung, but in a white shade. Shockingly, he had a pair of workman’s light-washed blue jeans hugging his thighs. Thick thighs, muscular shoulders, tawny honey skin. It was tantalizing, tempting. But when she looked over his face, her mouth dropped in surprise. A bruise kissed at the corner of his lips; his sweet smile tarnished with a purple-red watercolor splotch.   

She couldn’t help stand immediately, half in the clutches of Wooyoung. Her hand rose to cup San’s cheek.

“Honey!” he exclaimed out in surprise.

He didn’t shift away, actually bending at the knee for her height, but San was certainly surprised. He had taken the lead between them often. YN rarely made the first move with either of her patrons. But what he had mistaken for sexual tension only led to pain. He was shocked when her thumb’s brush against his lips made pain radiate up his face.

“Ow,” he whimpered, frowning. His brow furrowed.

Yeosang laughed nearby. “He forgot he’s hurt,” the athlete commented.

“It’s been a while,” Yunho added, finishing his drink as he watched the interaction play out.

San’s lips pressed together, blinking rapidly before taking in the concern look on her face.

“Oh, honey, I’m okay,” San tried to reassure. His hand rose to cup her hand that was pressed to his jaw, thumb brushing over it soothingly. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“You just said ow, you liar,” she scolded him, brows furrowing. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” he swore, tilting his head to press a kiss that stung his mouth to her palm. “Promise.”

“This town is getting more and more dangerous,” she breathed out.

Her thumb brushed over his cheek softly. His pretty face marred. Without his glasses on, she could see how his eyes sparkled in the chandelier’s candlelight. Soft and starry, as if she hung the world.

“You are an angel,” he murmured. “I’m okay. I’ll live.”

“Wooyoung, will you tell me what happened?” she prompted, not moving. Wooyoung pressed to her side made a humming sound.

“The streets are rough around here,” he said. “Someone really ought to fix that.”

Yunho huffed from across the long table.

San smiled at her again, eyes falling into half-moons. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips stung to do so, but she was worth it. “Thank you for worrying.” He told her. His stomach did somersaults at the thought of her jumping to his aid.

“Shall we walk you out, swanette?” Wooyoung directed instead, head tucking over her shoulder to look at the table. “Yunho has a meeting to attend unfortunately.”

Yunho hissed in through his sparkling diamond-inlayed teeth. “Does the—”

San nodded.

He breathed in through his nose before offering YN a simmering smile. Full of warmth. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss YN. I hope to see you very soon.” He bowed politely before with long-legged strides left the room. Wooyoung winked at him as he passed.

“I’ll join you,” Yeosang offered YN. “You must come visit again soon – in the spring, the gardens are beautiful. We could have tea or -”

“Yeosang likes to take long strolls through the gardens – even if it’s raining,” Wooyoung revealed, finally peeling himself off her back to look at the selection of food laid out. He plucked a grape from a platter.

“You gossip like the upper-class now,” Yeosang commented, raising a brow.

Wooyoung laughed brightly at his friend before popping the fruit into his mouth. “Eh, they rub off on you – I had to keep up with you, Sangie.”

Hmm, it was an interesting interaction. Playful but also… strange. She knew their pasts implied they hadn’t always been wealthy… Yeosang had been a protégé tennis player at a young age but how did he meet Wooyoung? Was it all because of Hongjoong?

San’s hands squeezed her waist. When had both of his hands shifted there? “You sleepy, honey?” he asked.

“Too filling of a meal,” Yeosang complained as he rose to his feet.

As if the food was her reason to getting lost in her head.

“It was perfect,” she countered, taking a step back. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“Thank you for gracing us,” Yeosang replied, offering her his hand. She took it, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A picture of a gentleman. But he was quick to wrap her arm up into his, pulling her into his side now. Surprisingly daring for the Yeosang she knew.

“Shall we?”

Their exit seemed to take forever just as before. Yeosang lead her down hallway after hallway after hallway. It almost felt like they were navigating a maze. San and Wooyoung framed the two in; Wooyoung on her side and San on Yeosang’s.

“How was Yunho?” San prompted, tentatively. “He didn’t scare you?”

“Did he frighten you – when you were alone with him?” Yeosang repeated, arm tightening around her.

“No, no, he wasn’t frightening,” she reassured them. “He was a surprise certainly.”

“Ah, Yunho was sneaky. He doesn’t like the opera, so he found his own way to meet you,” Yeosang sighed. “I feel like he caused the trouble for me on purpose, so I’d run late. You’re popular around here, sweetheart.” He squeezed her arm teasingly.

“Who else here?” she chuckled. Seonghwa? Hongjoong? She hadnt yet to see either of them – like they were ghosts.

“You’d be surprised,” Yeosang commented before leaning in and admitting. “I quite like you, too.”

He made her cheeks burn red, and Wooyoung giggled.

“She likes you too, Sangie,” he crowed out, fingers reaching to tickle her waist. “I’ve seen her blush over San, over you… Do you like Yunho as well?” Wooyoung queried, his words becoming less and less playful. They were almost inquisitive, as if testing the waters instead.

There was a crack as he lit a match across a gold-leafed frame. He placed the cigarette that was behind his ear to his lips and lit it.

“I did,” YN told him, honestly, as they continued through the foyer. Wooyoung chuckled out, smoke puffing out in front of his face in surprise. He wasn’t expecting her to admit it so fast.

“Not like that,” she interrupt his giggles, face burning. “I just—”

Looking down another hall they, she made out Yunho’s form, tall and slim walking down the hall with purpose. His back to her as they turned into the foyer finally.

“He was kind. Even if he was a bit intimidating… he wasn’t cruel or harsh. Just… confident.”

Yeosang smiled close-lipped. Wooyoung blew out his smoke to the side, the plume passing over the butlers’ faces. Not one flinched or coughed.

The smell of expensive tabacoo wafted over her face warmly as Wooyoung walked in front of them to push open the large heavy doors of the mansion.

“So he wasn’t so scary after all?” he teased. “Wait ‘til you meet Hongjoong and Hwa-hyung. They’re properly-”

“Wooyoung, don’t tease her,” Yeosang defended.

The younger raised one of his hands in defense as he held open the door for them. “I’m just saying – she got pass the guard dog.”

“She hasn’t met Jongho yet,” Yeosang giggled lightly. “He’s truly got a bad case of looking gruffer than he is. He’s our baby.”

Jongho. She had only heard that name once, and it was that night. Her ears rang.

“Jongho?” she queried softly.  

He had been at the opera! He was one of their ‘brothers’.

“Or Mingi--Ah, here he is now,” San commented, smiling over at the man standing in front of the green-painted car.

“Hello,” the driver greeted, voice as deep as earlier. His eyes flickered to her arm in Yeosang’s.

Wooyoung smirked at him. “Mingi, I didn’t know you were driving today,” he said.

“I thought you and San were doing business today.”

“It was a fast deal.”

Mingi looked unamused, his siren-eyes looking him and San up and down. “Uh huh.

“You know a Jongho?” she turned to Yeosang as they spoke.

“Jongho is the youngest of us. You’ll meet him soon, sweetheart,” he reassured, squeezing her arm. “He’s busy too often. I think they overwork him; he’s just a boy.”

“He’s only a year younger than us,” Wooyoung commented with a pout.

“He’s a baby,” San agreed offhandedly.

“I think I—"

“Is she going the hell home or not?” Mingi bit out. Before looking bashfully at her. “Sorry, doll,” he apologized for his gruffness. “I’m not used to a dame being around.”

“Its okay,” she mumbled out. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why Jongho was at the opera… without his supposed family knowing.

Mingi pouted at that. “No, its not.” He admitted. “Don’t take disrespect.”

Her distracted gaze rose and nodded softly, not really processing his words.

Wooyoung tsked out. “Here he goes about respect,” he sighed out. “Hurry up, swanette, or else we will be here for hours.”

There was a rumble of chuckles in the group. Yeosang squeezed her arm once more before pressing close to her ear, cheek to cheek. A whispered “next time it’ll be just you and I, hm?” was hushed into her ear before he unwound himself from her and allowed the others to hover about. “I’ll see you next time, Miss YN.”

San pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised. “And again, I promise you, I’m fine.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline before guiding her into Wooyoung’s arms.

He was warm and smelt of smoke. His grin was playful, wolfish as he leaned down and stole her lips into a kiss. He was getting bolder and bolder. His kiss was hot, a lick of his tongue into her mouth this time. She squeaked and he chuckled deeply.

“Mmm,” he moaned as he pulled away just a fraction. Wooyoung smiled as if he was innocent but his teases were devilishly. “Perhaps I should call you little mouse instead of swanette.”

She pushed at his chest, playfully. Wooyoung tugged her closer, grinning. Her face was akin to a rose.

“Let her go, Wooyoung,” Mingi said from the side. His face was sharp as he glared at the other. He didn’t appreciate the teasing. “She must be tired.”

Wooyoung heaved a sigh as if this was the hardest thing to do. He pouted at her before stealing a kiss, pressing a peck to her nose. “Fine,” he relented, unwinding her from his spider web embrace.

“See you soon, pretty. Mingi will make sure you get home safely.”

Mingi nodded steadfast before he offered her his hand.

“Shall we, baby-doll?”

-

Next time, when she woke, it was to a cat’s sandpaper-esque tongue licking her cheek. Little tiny licks with the familiar nuzzle of her wet nose, Z investigated her like any other day. The little more-blue-grey-than-black cat sniffed at her, the talkative pet meowing loudly. Her green eyes blinked slowly at her before she nudged her cheek with her forehead once more.

Her body didn’t burn. It didn’t ache. It didn’t feel like anything. Whatever drugs she was on, they were good. She blinked at the kitten, slow to do anything once more.

She was still in Yeosang’s room. The smell of him was all around her, Jongho’s familiar gardenia aroma mingling in the sheets. YN tried to move. Pushing herself upwards was easier than before but the slightest shift in her legs reminded her of the heavy casts that wrapped her ankles. The pain nothing like before but there was still the zing up her knees that made her pause. Her breath caught as she stared at her limbs before her.

Her reality. Bedbound, grounded. It was a depressing thought. Even more depressing when she realized she wasn’t sure what day it was nor what hour. How many shows had she missed? Did her mother know she wasn’t well? Was she just the same as those folk written about in the papers? Missing and forgotten.

She let out a shuddering breath as she laid back into the fluffy luxurious pillows, contemplating what to do. Should she cry out for them? Hongjoong was the last face she remembered but she didn’t want to see him. Or Seonghwa. Or any of them. Really. Anger burned her throat like the nearby fire place. Z’s whiskers dusted over her arm, nudging at her for attention as she let out another inquisitive meow.

“Leave me alone, Z,” she mumbled into her pillow. The little tongue peaked out to lick her again. “Stop, Z; go away.”

Her tone was raising with her rising grief. That was the only way to describe what she was feeling grief – a mixture of hoping, pleading, that everything had been a dream only to be reawaken to reality. Anger and sorrow clashed like cymbals in her head.

The cat nuzzled her again, and she snapped this time.

“Z, go!” Her hands shifted the quilts aside in a huff, making the little cat hop away, back arched.

“Z, come here,” a voice, melodic as it was masculine, called. The doorway creaked open, the gaslight in the hallway illuminated his figure, bulky in the best way. “Love isn’t in the mood to play.”

She frowned over at him, even if Z hopped off the bed and went towards Jongho eagerly. Her little body pressed against his leg as she passed him, purring softly. He smiled after his kitten before his gaze settled back on his love bed ridden.

“Hi love,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Angry,” she told him.

“But not in pain,” he smiled.

The youngest crawled up onto the bed, sheets rustling and ruffling as he settled beside her. Jongho wasn’t one to be silenced by a glare or dirty look. He was made for this world – his hyungs’ beloved aegi was used to getting what he wanted. And she was his baby. His love. He wanted her.

She turned her rageful eyes his way. He simply smiled just like the others. “I know,” he hummed. “I tried to warn you.”

He had. He cried to her last night… or a few nights ago? Her anger was quenched by those tears now. Her eyes softened just a smidge, and Jongho took a mile. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. His arms wrapped around her ‘til she was caught in his embrace, warm and coddled.

He indulged in the way she didn’t pull away or yell. He had heard her shouts at Yeosang’s attempts at affection.

“What happened? I remember waking up in pain – why?” she murmured into his chest. Trying to gather information from when she was asleep.

Even now, she felt safe in his embrace. It caused a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

He heaved out, her head rising and falling with his chest. “You had an infection – the doctor said it was possible dirt from that alley way. It entered your injury for too long. He fixed it.”

“Is he alive?” she mumbled.

“By Yunho’s grace.”

She felt the ebbing and flowing rage, the despair rush over her again. Almost as if sensing it, Jongho shifted, his chin tilting into his chest to look down at her. He moved to tilt her own chin to meet his gaze. Fiery passion burned there. He liked it better when her passion burned for her dancing… but he supposed it had to go somewhere while she was incapable.

“It’s the way things are,” he told her. “Stop fighting it.”

Stop fighting and give in. Look what fighting did. Just let them control her…

YN scoffed. “I’m not some doll,” she bit back. “Or some—"She wriggled like a worm on a hook. Jongho’s eyes ached, and he reached for her hands. He cupped them in his. His bloodstained ones. How many time had he scrubbed away ichor? Dug it from under his nails? Her hands were dainty.

“It’ll never touch your hands,” he interrupted earnestly. “You’ll never bear it. Our work. Our lifestyles. If that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m bearing it now,” she whispered to him, voice breaking. “I’m afraid of you.”

He frowned, his face firm and thoughtful. He was always thinking her Jongho. He never stopped. His thumbs brushed over her palms, his forehead pressing to hers intimately.

“You tried to leave,” he said. “I didn’t want this. None of us did. If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You understand what that means – I’m just something you control like your butlers and your members and your-.”

“No.” Jongho interrupted soft and earnestly.

“You are no pawn, my love. You are our priority… our treasure. Always.”

[riisume]

Me: I wanna write tk fics again!

Other person: What's stopping you?

Me: Me :')

[wakfu-weekly]

TUT_06: The PC I appear to be

After we wander around Rii, having completed the environment and battle tutorials, all that is left is to meet with Grougalo

Grouglaoran

Grouglaorang

Grougaloragran

I like how him going up into the air and doing the breath attack references the series. I guess that's his go-to You've pissed me off move.

"I wonder if we'll ever meet again..."

Looks directly into the camera

no not really

Throughout all of this you may have noticed that our character is capable of speech, and thought (somewhat).

Indeed, Player Character is far from a silent protagonist. Wakfu's Player Character inherits the tendency to yap from its Dofus predecesor. That, combined with the fact that Wakfu gives your character plenty of little animations to play in cutscenes, you get quite an animated little guy.

Just like a guinea pig, PC has their own little personality.

All of this results in an unholy mix between a blank slate for the player but also a unique character independent from you.

You may think "I wouldn't say this"

But you know who would?

[ekuns]

i wish my drive to create hadnt disappeared

[lovelynim]

Hi Nim!!! If you're craving Jiaoqiu/Moze content you should read @xsezzie's fic if you haven't already!! 👀

https://www.tumblr.com/xsezzie/760833227540889600/fox-and-the-crow?source=share (also sorry I accidentally clicked unfollow when I was trying to send the ask ToT)

HOW DID I MISS THIS?

[goldenhypen]

[6:28 pm] ⎯ 심재윤 ⋅ jake sim

synopsis. jake just can’t stop kissing you.

jake x reader | fluff, maybe a little suggestive (but that’s up to your interpretation (⌒-⌒; )) | 0.3k

“jake, we have to go,” you said with a smile as you attempted to push away from his loving grip on you.

“mm-mm,” he mumbled once he pressed his lips against yours once more, shaking his head slightly to indicate he wasn’t done with you yet.

he pulled you closer this time, his hands on your hips, your legs still straddling his lap.

“jake, seriously,” you giggled.

“not yet.”

this continuous pushing and pulling didn’t stop for the next few minutes, with you inevitably giving in every couple attempts; it was impossible not to when your boyfriend's flawlessly soft lips constantly found yours, hands guiding your head and body to move against his in perfect harmony.

but snapping back to reality, you continued kissing him, waiting for the right opportunity to push away. and so once he pulled back just slightly to adjust the position of his lips on yours, you used that time to fully separate from your boyfriend.

“okay, that’s enough, jake! we have to go!” you chuckled.

but before you could even fully escape his touch, his grasp was right back on you, pulling you back into his lap and eliciting a squeal from you.

“the reservations can wait,” he whispered into your ear, sending a rush of shivers through your body from head to toe. “it’s still early anyways. just a few minutes more.”

and somehow, with his words, followed by a smirk that had you melting on the spot, it was enough for you to give into your temptations and dive right back into kissing him again, lips moving right back in perfect sync against one another.

let’s just say, by the time you thought those few extra minutes were up, you two had gone just a little bit overtime and consequently lost your reservations—but in the words of jake, that just gave you two more time for… other things!

a/n. a short lil jake drabble cuz i’ve been holding in my delulu for a little too long atp i was gonna explode :’> just as always tho, reblogs rlly help to support this blog <3 i appreciate it <3

masterlist | taglist form

taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @forjaeyun @4ri-ki @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @malarign @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot@vickytodoroki @en-chantedtomeetyou

[oo-li]

the love languages: seungmin

giving: quality time

receiving: physical touch

it took you a bit of time to pin down the reasons for his slightly eccentric behavior - like when he pins you down into the sofa and doesn’t let you leave when you’ve been working a little too much, or when he whines at you to cook him something to eat just to stand side-by-side with you during the process, chopping and stirring away. though he doesn’t say it, it’s his way of spending quality time with you, time away from everyone and everything where the two of you can just exist in the same place. 

it’s the moments you didn’t know you needed until you’re out of them, feeling recharged and refreshed in a way nothing else can achieve. he knows what you need before you know it, knows that your eyes soften around the edges around him and you can fully relax when he’s with you. 

he’s like an emotional comfort battery that never runs out of power, appearing out of nowhere just in the right moments. 

and as much as he claims he doesn’t like cuddles, you know he secretly loves being touched. at least, being touched by you. you can see the way his eyes light up when you hold his face in your hands to press a kiss to his lips, even if he pretends to scowl afterwards. you can see the indulgent smiles he thinks he’s hiding after you hug him, and the way he completely relaxes when he’s cradled in your arms. 

you know what he wants, what he needs, though he would never ask for it. you can read him like a well-worn book, pages full of instances where he craves your physical touch. it means something to him that you’re so in tune with him that you know this, that he doesn’t have to ask in order to receive.

chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / jeongin

[hoonvrs]

ENHA AND THEIR PARTNER PRIVILEGES

req for 1k event!

PROMPT enha and the types of partner privileges they’d give their s/o

PAIRING enha x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS swearing, delusions

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTE i loved writing this omg

LEE HEESEUNG

( going into his bedroom unannounced )

ever since hee got his own bedroom everything changed

god forbid any of the members go into his room without asking first

even if they go in to tell him something they have to knock first

so imagine the shock on their face when they saw you one day just go in

no knocking, no nothing

and hee didn’t even get mad?? didn’t even bring it up to you

made all the members (especially niki) sulk cause why could you go in whenever you please whilst they couldn’t 

PARK JONGSEONG

( touching his guitar set )

the way jay is protective over his guitars you’d think he birthed them himself 

one of the members could simply breath next them and he starts losing his shit

can’t even be near it cause “what if you trip and fall into it”

next thing you know here’s jay trying to teach you guitar

you didn’t even know he acted like that until the members made it seem like you killed someone when you randomly took it out of the case one day

they all told you how he acts whenever they go near it

cue the offended gasp when they find out jay has never acted that way with you 

SIM JAEYUN

( sleep together )

as much as jake is a physically affectionate person

he hates sharing a bed 

he’s just always preferred sleeping without having fight someone over his own blanket

but with you he insists to sleep together

he’s even kicked out niki one too many times out of his bed

and even if you do sometimes (read: most of the time) end up stealing the blanket, he uses that as an excuse to cuddle you for warmth

PARK SUNGHOON

( ruffle/touch his hair )

one of hoons biggest pet peeve is when someone touches his hair

and if someone even so much as comes near his hair once he’s styled it

be ready to deal with a pissed off sunghoon

the amount of arguments he’s had with the other members over this is crazy

so, when you decided to on day ruffle his hair in front of the boys after they watched him spend 15 minutes on it, they were prepared for an argument

surprise surprise he just laughs at your antics leaving the boys offended because “what happened to bros before hoes”

KIM SUNWOO

( be physically affectionate )

as much as jake is physically affectionate with everyone, sunoo isn’t

he’s always been someone to be a little uncomfortable with any show of physical touch

thus, never initiating it 

cue the members pouting as soon as they see sunoo run to give you a hug

all start complaining how he never hugs them, or even returns their own hugs

confuses you a little cause sunoo has never not been affectionate with you, even before your relationship

YANG JUNGWON

( cry in front of you )

as the leader of enhypen, jungwon has always believed he has to be the pillar of the group

or where he basically never shows when anything is bothering/upsets him to his members 

as much as all the members keep reassuring him that it’s okay to cry in front of them

you’d never catch yang jungwon dead crying

except you apparently

to you, jungwon had always seemed to be secure with his emotions, and maybe the members are jealous who knows

NISHIMURA RIKI

( babying him )

no matter how many times niki will insist he’s ‘mature’

he’ll always be your baby

doesn’t matter if you’re older or younger than him

boy doesn’t even let the members baby him as the maknae

they could simply call him a cute nickname and suddenly he becomes defensive

everyone was shocked to find out he willingly lets you call him ‘baby duck’ after ranting to the whole nation that he is a puma

perm taglist @mesopret @tnyhees ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @chiyuv @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly

[miumura]

💭 — SUNGHOON AS YOUR IDOL BOYFRIEND !

★ — what it’s like having sunghoon as your idol boyfriend !

PAIRING idol!bf!sunghoon x gn!reader GENRE fluff !

WARNINGS reader is an idol as well, brief mentions of pecks

NOTE tysm anon for requesting ! i decided to make the reader be an idol as well to kind of write a little bit more but it does seem a bit shorter than my usual hcs 😭 but anyways i hope you still enjoy reading it regardless :) <3

— he secretly sneaks into your practice room just to say hi to you and your members he only goes to see you tho or just make up excuses js to see you like “forgetting” something from that practice room or just to give snacks to congratulate you and your group members !

— isn’t the idol to be too open about your relationship with him (not that he could) but like i don’t think he would tell his members ? maybe he’d let it slip out or the members eventually find out bc hes sooo obv abt it 😕 let a guy be in love

— risks sneaking out so that you both could have your dates! but with limits, the most you both can do is walk outside together or do quick store runs. but you both mainly hang out at the company.

— def the type to secretly pull you away from staff/members just to give you a quick peck before letting you leave 😭 he probably gets caught doing this act though 🤷‍♀️

— when vlogging content, he’d be interacting with you so it’s like an idol interaction that fans r craving for when in reality he just wants to be able to talk to you …

— asks stylists to “match” with you discreetly during award shows or such so that fans can be their little nosy selves n assume you both are dating due to the same clothing … he enjoys the rumors bc he knows its true

— any variety shows you both are on, TRUST he will be getting all the interactions he can get with you. anyone could notice your chemistry between each other … do you vision the edits rolling in about every little thing you do tgt? yeah, he wants that 🤗

— like his wide smile whenever he watches you is so noticeable. what happened to keeping it professional park sunghoon 🤨⁉️

— the most you both can do to “show off” your relationship is matching phone cases / posting around the same time or place / item bc it makes the delulu fans wild 🤔

— DEFINITELY posts selcas of himself and then texts you afterwards like “posted this for u 😉” “did you see what i posted” he wants a reaction so bad so pls give him that 🫶

💭 — first idol hc idk how to feel

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @dioroits @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[restlessmaknae]

pimple patches // anton

Doing skincare has never seemed so fun before doing it with your boyfriend, Anton.

➳ Characters: boyfriend!Anton x female reader/you

➳ Genre: domestic au, established relationship au, slice of life, fluff

➳ Words: 0.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of pimples, periods

➳ A/N: Very much inspired by these pics of Anton having star-shaped pimple patches on his cheeks. *-*

Stars in his eyes, stars on his cheeks, Chanyoung looks you in the eye, his gaze nothing short of mesmerizing, but it doesn’t take long for him to get shy, and a giggle to escape his lips.

“Why?” You ask him, your lips curling upwards at his reaction, but he covers his mouth with his hands instead of an answer. “What is it?” You prompt him, nudging his shoulder playfully.

He looks back at you, his mouth still half-covered by his hands, but then, he reaches out, and for a moment, you think that he will cup your cheeks. Your heart immediately picks up its pace, not because you are nervous, moreso because he always makes you feel as giddy as you were when you just started dating. You are as shy as him, so it feels like you are constantly in a competition over whose face gets more flushed when you give compliments to one another or make a cute remark.

However, at the last moment, he picks up something from your pyjama shirt and shows the culprit to you: a star-shaped pimple patch sitting on the tip of his finger.

“This fell off just when I turned towards you, and I… I thought it was… cute,” Chanyoung replies, his answer cut by his constant giggles, and his soft voice makes you want to melt into a puddle. He’s someone who sometimes takes his time answering, but you never mind because his voice carries the exact same warmth that his personality carries with him.

Chanyoung would never want to hurt anyone willingly, and you love him for it. Hell, he can’t even get rid of a spider in your flat, so you can’t tell him to do it instead of you. You love his big heart, and how he sees the good in people, including you. Even if you’re vulnerable with him, he never looks at you any differently, just watches you gently, softly, listening to what you have to say, and comforting you while drawing circles on your back, something that always helps to soothe your nerves.

Other times, he holds your hands as if he wanted to anchor you, and embraces you, holding you close to his chest, his protective arms keeping anything bad away from you. When you’re on your period, he warms up the hot water bottle for you and holds it on your abdomen while hugging you from behind, so you can sleep peacefully.

Yet, his love is evident in all those subtle gazes you exchange when you’re just out and about, or how he initiates snuggling up to you while watching a movie. It’s in the way he always puts enough water in the kettle for two before you get home because he knows you like to get a cup of tea after getting home. It’s in the way his eyes are on you from the moment you open your eyes and catch him staring at you to having him watch over you until you fall asleep.

Or even just in the way he shares his sheet masks with you, and you put on pimple patches together because he likes taking care of his skin, and so do you.

“Will you put it on for me then?” You inquire with a smile and take a step closer to him, taking in the three pimple patches already adorning his cheeks.

He bobs his head with a coy smile, then leans closer to gently press the little blue star onto your skin before smoothing it down. You watch him do it with full concentration, not realising that he’s super close to your face until he locks eyes with you. Then, his cheeks turn adorably pink once again, not to mention when you press a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“Thank you,” you whisper afterwards, and turn back to the mirror to brush your hair, only to see your cheeks tinted in a similar colour.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for RIIZE (OT7, of course) or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Header taken from this RISE & REALIZE episode.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[oo-li]

me when i uhm uhm uhm /pos

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Surprises, Sneaking Around, Domestic Fluff, Panic, Anxiety, Mentions of Poisoning, Yelling, Werewolf Senses

Words: 5.5K

Chapter Four

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @yizhou-time @hannahdinse8)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

“Sneaking into the princess’ quarters during the day shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“I know she has no guards, but she’s not completely alone during the day.”

“From what I’ve gathered, we only have a small handful of people to worry about.”

“So then, what is your plan for them?”

“For starters, if you’re willing, you could ask San for a favor.” Hongjoong stated. “As a scholar, San would have the authority to request the princess’ eunuch help him with errands. That way someone you know would keep the eunuch busy and be aware of his current movements. Of course this would only be necessary for the days you wish to visit.”

“Hm, I see your point. Although it is risky to ask such a thing. Wooyoung seems reliable and doesn’t ask questions. San on the other hand…”

“The eunuch isn’t too much of a problem. Now that the princess is confined to her quarters, her eunuch only visits her when the King requests her presence for the royal family gatherings. Those tend to happen on a predictable basis, so the eunuch isn’t really any trouble.”

“Indeed. What of the court ladies?”

“They visit the princess at certain times every day, following a routine. In order to ensure your privacy, Wooyoung could keep an eye on the ladies, making sure they don’t spontaneously return to interrupt you. The two tend to stick together, so it would be easy for Wooyoung to charm them and keep them occupied until they return to their duties.”

“Then that just leaves you as my look-out, simple enough.”

“Unfortunately that’s not the case.”

“What else is there?”

“The royal family. The King has never once visited the princess, and has no reason to. The Queen only ever visits the princess when something happens, or perhaps after a family gathering, but the Crown Prince, he visits sporadically. Of course his visits aren’t as frequent given his current studies, but they are unpredictable. A day you choose to visit could coincidentally be the day he does too, and I cannot fathom the consequences.”

“Hm… so the real problem is the Crown Prince. Everyone else, even the princess’ court ladies and eunuch, keep a distance. He is the only one who cares to see her.”

“Apologies for not having a solution.”

“There’s no need for that. The Crown Prince may visit the princess on a whim, but there are certain days he cannot do that. Since I am to foster a friendship with him, I should know when those days are. Then we can plan accordingly.”

“That should work.”

“It should, but let’s not be hasty. Tell Wooyoung to get friendly with the court ladies, I’ll see if San is reliable. We’ll go from there.”

Seonghwa did like his odds with this plan, as he could have all his bases covered, but he knew patience was important. For the time being he continued making visits at night when he could, and had Wooyoung report to him about his progress. San wasn’t a necessary part of his plan, but he did want to see if he could be trusted. What Seonghwa needed most was people on his side, at the moment all he had was Hongjoong, and Wooyoung by proxy. 

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing much of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve heard all about you and the Crown Prince.” San commented. “You are a Park after all.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. We’re friends, I���d rather spend time with you.”

“Then why not a night out? I bet you could use one.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but I’m rather busy at night.”

“I bet.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not blind, Seonghwa. I know you’re busy during the day but you’re clearly not getting enough sleep at night. So, my guess, you’re seeing someone. Specifically you’re sneaking around. I presume you don’t want your father knowing.”

“You can say that…”

“So, are you gonna tell me who it is? Wait, are you and Hongjoong-”

“No! San, please.”

“It was just a thought… then who?”

“I can’t say.”

“Hm, why not? You worried I’m gonna tell your father?”

“Would you?”

“Why would I? I’m not acquainted with your father, and what kind of friend would I be if I screwed you over in regards to love.”

“In that case… you could help me with something.”

“Ah, what is it?”

“As a scholar I’m sure you’re busy, so why not bother an eunuch to help you out. I know just the one who’s always looking for some work.”

“Who would that be?”

“The princess’ eunuch.”

“The… wait… are you seeing…”

“…”

“Seonghwa!”

“Quiet!”

“Oh my gosh, I cannot… actually, I can… wow… that explains a lot…”

“Is it obvious…?”

“Honestly, not really. Others might think you’re staying up late to finish something important, but I know you’re a hard worker who wouldn’t sacrifice sleep for such a thing. So of course it has to be about a lover.”

“I guess I can’t fool you.”

“Hardly. If anyone was ever going to marry the princess, it would be you.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Come on, you’re the history enthusiast here. You know how things work when it comes to a princess. Her marriage tends to be some sort of arrangement for power, but lords aren’t exactly eager to be a brother-in-law to the future king, even if their family benefits. Besides, the princess is ill, so it’s likely the royal family won’t bother marrying her off.”

“So then where do I come in?”

“Well, with all that information, if anyone was ever going to approach the princess and want to marry her, it would be out of genuine love. You’re the only person that comes to mind.”

“Really?”

“You knew each other when you were kids, and you’re a Park. It kinda makes sense.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, I’m afraid.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I knew of her in my youth, but never truly met her until now. Also, because I’m a Park I shouldn’t get involved with the royal family in such a way. My father and the King have done great things for the nation, if both families were to become in-laws, other ministers and scholars could argue it’s a conflict of interest.”

“Hm, I see. For generations the Parks and Jeongs have simply worked together but if they were to become family and continue with their current roles, it could get messy. No wonder you’re being so careful, you really don’t want your father to know.”

“He knows.”

“He does!”

“It’s why my father has been piling on my work. He’s trying to keep me busy.”

“Ah, and you’re still going against him, huh?”

“I’m not gonna let him get in my way.”

“So why do you need me to distract the princess’ eunuch? I thought you did night visits?”

“I want to change that.”

“Oh, I see… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Seonghwa threw a glare. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the Crown Prince visits every now and then, what if he catches you? Actually, aren’t you and the Crown Prince getting acquainted? How’s he gonna feel when he finds out you want to marry the princess?”

“I’ve already considered all that, so you don’t need to worry. I just need to know if you’re on my side, if you’ll help me.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. I benefit from this, although I want something in return.”

“I’m sure it’s within reason, right?”

“Of course. I just want you to tell me about your dates.”

“San!”

“Come on, I want to know. The princess is such a mystery, and you’re over here sneaking around to see her, it’s so romantic. Please. I can keep a secret.”

“Fine, but if rumors start going around, I will take your head.”

“Deal! So, tell-”

“Later.”

“Awe, come on, just a little snippet. What are her quarters like?”

“Do you like the princess or something?”

“No, no, I’m not gonna steal your girl. I just want to know about the person who’s stolen your heart. That’s all.”

“She… she has her own garden. It’s more beautiful than the royal one.”

“Ah, cute.”

With every base covered things could move forward in Seonghwa’s plan. He wanted to build a good foundation before trying anything. Of course the final part was to figure out when the Crown Prince would be out of his way. At least once or twice a week he’d go to the Crown Prince’s library, simply socializing or discussing current policies. It was more of a mental exercise for the two as they had no say on the matters yet, but it was important to keep up appearances. Eventually Seonghwa got what he wanted.

“I’ll be gone for a few days, so you don’t have to come and find me.”

“Oh, traveling? I heard you haven’t left the palace in quiet some time.”

“Precisely. My father believes it’s best to visit some of the areas outside the palace, see how the people live. I agree. If I am to be King one day, I need to better understand my subjects.”

“That’s a good mentality to have.”

“If you’d like to join me, I don’t see either of our fathers opposing the idea.”

“I’ve lived outside of the palace for a long time, I’m not quiet ready to leave it.”

“I see, perhaps another time.”

“We’ll have plenty more chances for adventures in the future.”

Seonghwa relayed the information to Hongjoong, deciding the day the Crown Prince left was the day he’d visit. Everything was prepared accordingly, and on the chosen day Seonghwa was up before sunrise, going into the markets to pick up a gift and little cakes he had wanted to give you before. As he returned he wound up running into the Crown Prince on his way out.

“I didn’t expect you’d see me off.”

“That wasn’t my intention, but it’s a pleasant encounter. Safe travels, your highness.”

“Thank you, I’ll see you when I return.”

“Until then.”

Seonghwa bowed and waited until the Crown Prince and his entourage were gone. He was excited for the day, eager to see the look on your face. By now San was already giving tasks to the eunuch, and he knew Wooyoung had been getting very friendly with the court ladies. As Seonghwa and Hongjoong made their way to the princess’ quarters he could see Wooyoung and the two court ladies walking together, all laughing.

“I’ll let you know when lunch time is approaching, otherwise, you should have no interruptions.”

“Excellent.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Before leaving Yunho had come to pay you a visit, letting you know he’d be away from the palace for a while. You were a bit jealous that he got to go out and see the world, but he promised to come tell you stories when he got back. You wanted to see him off, but you knew if the Queen caught wind of you sneaking out things would somehow get worse for you. Instead you’d just wait for your brother to return. You figured that perhaps you’d see a bit more of Seonghwa, but you could only hope.

“Princess…”

You heard a whisper as you were eating breakfast, looking around in confusion. You thought maybe you were hearing things but then you heard a knock. Your window was open, which only made things stranger. Then you noticed the silhouette of a person at your door. For a moment you panicked, and then the doors slid open, revealing a familiar face. Your eyes went wide and everything clicked into place.

“Seonghwa!?”

“Good morning, princess.”

“What are you doing here!?” You jumped to your feet. “Seonghwa! What if someone sees you!?”

“I’ve already taken care of everything. No one’s going to bother us.”

“But-”

“Wooyoung is with your court ladies, and San is keeping your eunuch busy today. Hongjoong is my lookout and the Crown Prince is out of the palace. Who could possibly discover us?”

“… you… you really thought of everything… you’re really here…”

“I told you I wanted to see you during the day, and nothing was going to stop me.”

You were still nervous about this whole ordeal, but the more you thought about it the more you were in awe. He had all the important people out of the way. Only misfortune would interrupt this moment. You laughed with joy and hugged Seonghwa tight, still finding the whole scene unbelievable. Seonghwa hugged you back, rubbing circles along your back.

“Alright, alright, you still need to eat breakfast. It’s one of the most important meals of the day.”

“Wait, what about you!? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m alright, plus I brought you something.” Seonghwa revealed a small bag, the smell coming from it was divine. “These are fresh from the market.”

“The market? You mean outside the palace?”

“Yes. I woke up extra early to get them for you. I hope you like them.”

“Seonghwa, you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did, today is a very special day.”

With your mind at ease you happily welcomed Seonghwa to share a meal with you. It made you so giddy you couldn’t contain your smile. Seonghwa insisted on feeding you, wanting you to eat some proper food before you tried the little cakes he had brought. They tasted just as good as they smelled. This was your first time eating something from outside the palace and it was so good.

“Tell me, how does palace food compare to outside food?”

“Hm, I’d say palace food is good and healthy, but there are so many other foods out there that are just so delicious. These little cakes for one you won’t find in here.”

“Wow, I can only imagine the type of foods you’ve had growing up.”

“I’ll see if maybe I can bring you some.”

“You don’t think I could maybe sneak out with you?”

“Ah, weren’t you the one talking about how dangerous it was for me to be here during the day, and now you want to sneak out of the palace?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually figure out a way to sneak in here. Maybe you could get me out of the palace… then again, you’d be in big trouble if we got caught.”

“I’ll think about it though. Sneaking you out at night would be far easier, but the problem will always be the Crown Prince.”

“I know. He won’t be around for a while.”

“So I can come see you lots more.”

After you finished eating you took your medicine, your grimace making Seonghwa chuckle. You both enjoyed the rest of the cakes out in your garden while cuddling atop a blanket. Seonghwa was glad to see you bask in the sun, getting to see you in a new light. Time seemed to move so fast that before he knew it Hongjoong was signalling to him that it was almost noon, and he had to leave.

“Are you gonna visit me tomorrow?”

“I’d like to, but I have to see how everything went today first.”

“Alright, but either way, today was wonderful.”

“I agree. Before I go, I do have a gift for you.”

“A gift?”

“Something to commemorate such a day.”

Seonghwa revealed a small pouch, pulling out a necklace from it. The gold sparkled in the sunlight, and hanging from the chain was a beautiful sun and moon cradled together.

“It’s beautiful, Seonghwa.”

“Then it will match you well.”

Seonghwa moved your hair aside and placed the necklace on you, enjoying the happiness on your face. Being gifted flowers was one thing, but something like this was new.

“I love it.”

“I’m glad you do. I hope it reminds you of me and keeps you company while I am away.”

“Thank you. It’s wonderful!”

You hugged Seonghwa tightly, not wanting him to go, but you knew he had to. You had taken up his morning, and surely he had things to do as well. You were grateful for the time he gave you, and looked forward to more day time visits. Seonghwa didn’t want to leave you either. He could simply hide while your court ladies brought you lunch, but he can’t push his luck on the first day. As he held you in his arms he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your scent was so faint, it was practically nonexistent, but with his sharp nose he could pick up on the slightest hint of honey sweetness. One day he really wanted to know your scent, but that was a whole other conversation. Although as he held you he picked up on something strange.

Concern immediately showed on his face, but you didn’t see it. Perhaps he was mistaken, but this was such a strange thing to randomly come to mind. He pushed it aside and made sure to part ways on a good note, promising to visit soon. Afterwards he gathered with his people, asking how things went on their end. For Wooyoung nothing of note happened. The ladies did their duty and spent their free time lounging around. Since they were important to the princess they couldn’t be given orders by others, unless such orders came from the King and Queen themselves. As for San, he seems to have made a new friend. The eunuch preferred the consistency of helping one person than just being yanked around all day.

“So the day was a success?”

“I’d say so.”

After lunch Seonghwa returned to his usual tasks. Hongjoong remained by his side, finishing up his own meal.

“Will you be visiting again tomorrow?”

“I want to, but I’d like to try in the afternoon.”

“You mean after lunch?”

“Yes, get a feel for both times and see what works best.”

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

“I don’t think so either. Hongjoong, may I ask for your opinion on something?”

“Such as?”

“The princess expressed a desire to sneak out of the palace. Do you think such a thing is plausible?”

“I think you know the answer. It’s very well possible, but realistically only at night. Even then, doing such a thing is extremely risky. She is still a princess, and if something were to happen, or you get caught, we could all end up dead.”

“I know. I don’t wish to put her in danger but the idea of stepping out of the palace really made her eyes light up. She’s been a prisoner here her whole life, and her cage has only gotten smaller as of late.”

“It’s not really possible now, but when you accomplish your goal, you could certainly venture out together with all the necessary precautions.”

“When? You truly believe in my desires?”

“I do. Either I’ll address you as your majesty one day, or we’ll be buried in the ground. I welcome whichever outcome destiny bestows upon us.”

“I agree.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa felt confident with an afternoon visit, planning accordingly and surprising you once more. You welcomed him, and shared a meal once again, enjoying each other’s company out in your garden. This time around Seonghwa brought some of his work, wanting to do something rather mundane with you. The idea was wonderful as it made you feel normal, and less alone. As Seonghwa read his books and jotted down notes you were painting at his side. You wanted to paint him, but you couldn’t do it in secret. If anything you’d ask him about it so he could dress up if he wanted to.

Seonghwa did prefer the early visits, being one of the first people to see you in the morning. He could get you fresh pastries from the market and brighten your day. As he got a bit more comfortable and confident he began sneaking in the moment the court ladies were gone. That way the two of you had as much time as possible. Although something had been bothering him, and he was only aware of it in the morning. He thought he had just been imagining things, but after the first time he made a point to look out for it, and he never failed to find it. Now he just needed to find the source. He had tried to be discrete about it, but you only ever watched him, so of course you’d notice.

“What’s wrong, Seonghwa?”

“… nothing, it’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe that. What is it? I mean…” You took a moment. “I can tell something is up, and if I can help I would like to, but I understand if you don’t want to share…”

“No, no, it’s not that… I don’t want to worry you.”

“What would I worry about?”

“I… when I’m here… in the morning… I keep catching this faint scent of wolfsbane.”

“Wolfsbane? That’s impossible. The only wolfsbane in the palace is in the armory. You haven’t been around there, have you?”

“No. I have no reason to, but it’s bothering me.”

“I don’t smell anything, but then again my senses don’t really work.”

“It’s alright. I could be crazy, but I do want to figure this out.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to search my quarters if it’ll ease your worries.”

“I don’t want to rummage around your things, that’s incredibly rude.”

“If it helps you I don’t mind.”

“I appreciate that but… have you been feeling alright lately?”

“That depends on what you mean by alright. I haven’t really gotten any worse, or better.”

“Hm…”

“You think you’re getting it from the food? Maybe a guard or something was in the kitchen and the scent of wolfsbane lingered.”

“I haven’t really gotten the scent from there. I’ve also eaten your food before too and nothing ever seemed off with it.”

“Then let’s try something else.”

You moved the table aside, getting closer to Seonghwa and taking his hands in yours. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but he’d play along.

“Close your eyes and focus on your sense of smell. I know you said the scent was faint, but with your nose maybe you can find the source.”

“Perhaps.”

“Try it.”

Seonghwa did as you asked, closing his eyes and focusing on his sense of smell. He honed in on the smells of your room, identifying them and moving past them. When he caught a faint whiff of wolfsbane he slowly moved his head. You noticed his actions and let go of his hands, letting him follow the scent. Seonghwa did just that, getting on his hands and knees and moving carefully until he hit a table. He opened his eyes and saw a small bowl, traces of some mysterious liquid lingering.

“What is this?”

“That’s my medicine.”

“Medicine?”

“Yes. I take it every morning. It’s a mix of herbs and stuff. It has a bitter taste, so I take it first before eating.”

  Seonghwa picked up the bowl, taking in a deep breath. He could smell wolfsbane, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure this was it. After putting the bowl down he moved closer to you, leaning in and making you move back a bit. When he had initially caught the scent of wolfsbane it had been while close to you. Now that he was following the scent he was led to you again. He wasn’t sure if it was just his fears or not, but he could smell wolfsbane coming from your lips.

“Does the medicine help you?”

“It keeps me healthy. I haven’t gotten worse so I guess it’s working. Why?”

“Don’t drink it tomorrow morning, wait for me.”

“Huh? Seonghwa-”

“Please.”

“You think there’s wolfsbane in my medicine?”

“I don’t know, but I can check tomorrow. Promise you won’t drink it until I come by.”

“Alright, I promise.”

“Good girl.”

Seonghwa hoped he was wrong about this, because just thinking about it was making him worry. The next day couldn’t come fast enough but when it did Seonghwa was with you bright and early. You were of course happy to see him, but you knew he had something else on his mind. You handed him the little bowl that held your medicine, not having a drop of it. He smelled the contents, getting an earthy smell, and he had to admit it really did smell like medicine. Although he did also catch a tiny hint of wolfsbane. He didn’t really ask, but decided to take a sip anyway.

“Seonghwa-”

Before you could finish your words Seonghwa spit out the medicine, a grimace on his face. You could have reminded him of the bitter taste before he did such a thing, but then he merely tossed out the bowl’s contents into your yard.

“Seonghwa! Are you insane!”

“Don’t drink that.”

“Seonghwa!”

“There’s wolfsbane in your medicine.”

“What?”

“I know you probably can’t tell with your senses all numbed up, but I tasted it. You shouldn’t be drinking that.”

“There is no way there’s wolfsbane in my medicine! You’re crazy.”

“I know it sounds that way, but you have to believe me. I may have tasted a bit, but it was there, I’m certain of it.”

“Seonghwa, it’s medicine, and I need it!”

“Do you? Tell me, since you’ve started taking it, have you actually gotten better?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it, has it actually helped you? Or made things worse?”

“I… I… well… it didn’t really help when I first started taking it… but that was just my body adjusting to the medicine, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It could.” Seonghwa grabbed your shoulders. “Don’t take the medicine anymore.”

“Seonghwa, I can’t just-”

“Just for a bit, see what happens.”

“Seonghwa…”

“I know, I know.” Seonghwa cradled your face. “What I’m asking is insane, and a lot, but I need you to trust me here. I’m terrified of what this means.”

As crazy as this all sounded, you could tell Seonghwa was being sincere. You didn’t like this, but you’d trust him for now. Besides, you were already skipping your medicine today. There was no way you could get another serving without raising suspicion. Seonghwa hugged you tightly, wanting to make the most of the time you had left, even if he had certainly spoiled the mood. You both did your best to put this behind you, just glad to be in each other’s company. Not to mention your brother would be returning soon, so your days were numbered.

“I’ll be by tomorrow, you’ll keep your promise, right?”

“I will. Promise.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Until then.”

Seonghwa left after putting a smile on your face. Once outside your quarters he was greeted by Hongjoong. Although the boy noticed the serious look on his face.

“I heard a bit of a commotion earlier, is everything alright?”

“No. I need you to investigate who is in charge of the princess’ medicine and meals.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I believe someone is poisoning the princess, has been for years.”

♦♦♥♦♦

You were worried about Seonghwa. Everything he had said, you didn’t want to believe him, but all you could do was trust him. Your sense didn’t work the way they were supposed to. As far as you knew the medicine didn’t even have a smell, yet he could pick up on the details, and even taste wolfsbane. In all honesty you were scared. If you didn’t take your medicine you had no idea what would happen to you. All your life you had been so weak and powerless, believing the medicine you took gave you what little strength you had. Seonghwa didn’t see it that way, and he had no reason to lie to you. He was going to look into things, so you just had to be patient and wait for news. It was probably gonna drive you insane until then.

♦♦♥♦♦

Even though Seonghwa had Hongjoong looking into the situation, there were other things he could do. There was someone he had wanted to meet for a while now, and he finally had a good reason too. When he had a moment in the afternoon he went off to look for a physician. He knocked at the door, getting the attention of the gentleman present. 

“Hello, I’m looking for a physician.”

“Ah, Lord Park, it’s an honor to meet you.” The gentleman bowed. “I’m physician Kang, how can I help you?”

“Aren’t you a royal physician?”

“I am, but considering who your father is, I’m at your service as well.”

“Oh, lucky me. I’ve simply been feeling under the weather and wanted a professional opinion.”

“Of course, come with me and have a seat.”

For privacy’s sake, Seonghwa was led into another room. He took a seat as the physician began his examination.

“Physician-”

“You can just call me Yeosang if that’s easier for you.”

“Yeosang then. I must say, you’re pretty young to be a physician, a royal one at that.”

“I’ve always wanted to heal others, ever since I was little. I studied hard and now here I am.”

“You must be very good to be where you are.”

“I believe so, but I also have some favor with the Crown Prince.”

“Ah, you must be good friends. No wonder he trusts you to attend to him and his family.”

“I’m just doing my job at the end of the day.”

“I suppose you have your hands full dealing with the princess’ illness. I’m sure you take good care of her. I haven’t had a chance to see her since she stopped going on her walks.”

“Just a precaution. Her health is of utmost importance.”

“Really? I’ve heard rumors that the Queen isolated her out of shame.”

“You surely know the palace staff like to gossip.”

“True. How is she though, doing well?”

“Of course.”

“Does she need anything? I’ve wanted to send gifts but I’m not sure what’s appropriate. Do certain medicines work better than others for her?”

“You don’t need to worry about her health, it’s well taken care of. Other gifts would be better to lift her spirits.”

“Hm. Then I guess you must be busy everyday with her medicine.”

“I don’t prepare her medicine.”

“What? You’re her physician though, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but she is royalty. Something of such importance is to be handled by those above me. I know the recipe in case I ever need to prepare it, but that hasn’t come up.”

“At least you’re prepared. I’m glad to know the princess is in good hands.”

Seonghwa left having more questions than answers. At least he hoped Hongjoong had some information. Later in the evening the two met up, sharing a meal and enjoying the quiet atmosphere.

“How was your visit to the physician?”

“Uneventful. I was wrong in believing the physician was involved. Although it only creates more questions. Did you find anything?”

“Not exactly. Since Wooyoung has gotten close to the court ladies I asked him to investigate a bit. He informed me that the court ladies merely pick up the food as everything is prepared by certain employees beforehand.”

“Do you know who?”

“From what I gathered, it seems to be the Queen’s people who deal with the meals and medicine of the princess. It’s not entirely odd, the Queen does the same for the Crown Prince when he is here, but…the Queen herself approves of the food, and her people hand it over to the court ladies. No one else seems to come in contact with it from there.”

“So… it’s the Queen…”

“You don’t seriously think the Queen has been trying to kill her own daughter?”

“Considering all she’s done, and how she treats the princess, is it really that hard to believe?”

“If she really wanted to, she could have done so a long time ago? Why the small doses of wolfsbane then? Why drag it out?”

“I’m not sure, perhaps to make it appear more natural. The princess has been sick since she was a child, many believe the fact she’s still alive today to be some miracle. If she began to slowly deteriorate and then pass away, who would possibly think foul play?”

“Would anyone truly think the princess was murdered if she passed away today?”

“Hongjoong.”

“Apologies, I’m just trying to understand. It doesn’t make sense… dragging it out is just torturous, who would benefit from this?”

“The royal family is meant to be strong, the fact she’s still alive is proof of that, although perhaps this has nothing to do with her.”

“What?”

“The only person who cares for her is the Crown Prince. I wouldn’t put it beneath the Queen to make the princess’ death look more natural for his sake. If anyone would want an investigation, or could even get one, it would be him. If he can accept her death with his own senses as being natural, no one would be the wiser.”

“Would the Queen really do such a thing?”

“Regardless of her reasoning, I don’t doubt it.”

“Are you really gonna tell the princess about this? What if you’re wrong?” 

“Maybe I am, but I won’t hide this from her. She deserves to know what we do and come to her own conclusions.”

[riisume]

I have some… thoughts about Arcane s2 already…

Tk thoughts…

I’ll share them and tag #Arcane spoilers and put those thoughts under a read more so I don’t spoil people who haven’t started seeing it yet.. ! ! !

[wakfu-weekly]

[thefirstknife]

Obsessed again. I couldn't actually play this week because my PC died (badly), but I did watch a friend play through the whole thing. So I'll be stealing screenshots.

But I'm obsessed with the Skolas cutscene and all the implications in it (and the song).

So the thing is that apparently the Echo is ... somewhat sentient. Obviously we knew some of that from last episode as well, because Echoes are made of people destroyed/attacked by the Witness so there's actual people in there. The previous Echo was made from the Qugu species and is specifically inhabited by the commander Te'Qal from the Dynasty lore book (highly recommended read, excellent proper scifi stuff in here).

We haven't learned about Revenant's Echo so far. Originally I thought that we'll get another lore book similar to Dynasty that explains what this Echo is made of, but we didn't. Instead, due to this cutscene... I think it was made from Eliksni. In some way. The Witness didn't destroy their entire species, but the Black Fleet did leave a huge and important mark and many Eliksni died on Riis and after. Their memories could be in the Echo. Transcript of the relevant bits (from Eso's video):

The song... hmm. A Whirlwind dirge. A seeking song for the lost. But... hmm. Variks does not recognise the singer. The Echo... It is the Echo that sings to us, Guardian. Sings of Riis, through our memories. It seeks an old strength. Strength to guide the scattered through a time of doubt and wrath... But it sees now how Fikrul wields its power... false life for an army of the slain, with those like Skolas for his pawns. The Echo seeks another wielder. It demands one who is worthy.

So there was a song that we followed in the mission and it led us to Fikrul (who holds the Echo) and Skolas. When we finished the fight, the cutscene played which explains why the song was there in the first place. It's a Whirlwind song, but it's being sang by the Echo itself, as if using memories of the Eliksni. So it would make sense that the Echo is made from them. To add to it, the seasonal lore book, The Garden-Way, final page mentions Chelchis singing a song:

This didn't seem too important before, but now after the cutscene I'm wondering!

It's also incredibly interesting that the Echo is apparently not interested in Fikrul anymore, implying a sort of sentience we haven't seen before. The last Echo was completely fine with Maya, which implies that this is due to the fact that Maya and Te'Qal are alligned. And that is true! Maya spoke highly of him and called him an ally, then also said that he lacked things that she has, so the two of them are empowering the Echo and work well together. The Echo was fine being in Maya's hands and still is.

But Fikrul and this one? Apparently don't get along. The Echo wants someone else, someone better and more worthy, and it is looking for that person while singing an old Eliksni song. I'm super interested to see who it will pick, if anyone. I think one of the strongest candidates is Eramis; a person who longs for Riis and protecting her people, but who never had proper powers to do so. She is a strong and capable leader and would use the Echo better than she did Darkness, because the Echo is essentially her kin (if it's correct that it's made from the Eliksni in some form).

There's other options as well, of course. There's even an option that we lose track of this Echo too, but it would be really interesting to see us gain one of them. Though in this case, if it is Eramis, she would probably take it with her to Riis, which is where she was headed before this whole thing went down.

Wild stuff going on, in between everything else. Needless to say, I'm hopelessly dependent on the lore about the Echoes which are glimpses into the lives and memories of ancient peoples. Fascinated to learn more about this one and where it ends up, and what waits for us next episode.

[oo-li]

SHOW ME HOW | hwang hyunjin (m)

When you were young, you were friends with a neighborhood boy who liked the same things as you. Both of you were dirt poor, but it didn't seem to matter; as long as you had each other, there was always a make-believe adventure right around the corner. He grew up to be a star actor and, now that he's wealthy beyond imagination, seems to have forgotten where he came from. You haven't talked to him in years, but now he’s back, for reasons unknown to you, where you reconnect and reintroduce him to the life he left behind. (original prompt)

This is a little something I started writing last year, it’s actually the last thing I wrote and actually liked, before I seemed to forget how to. I’ve tried and tried to make it into something more but maybe it’s time for me to let go of it so I can let something new make it’s way in.

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader

genre: romance? very pg. childhood friends to strangers to one-sided enemies to lovers

word count: 1.5k

warnings: just feels; small towns, old friends, mentions of heartbreak, angsty, childhood friends to strangers (??) to one sided enemies (??), idk. a lot of secrecy.

missed u guys <3

p.s listen to it almost worked by tv girl for a better reading experience !

You never understood Hyunjin. Not after all those years when you were kids and especially not now. Not when you’d seen him cry every year on his birthday, not when he’d tried and failed to be friends with every newcomer in town, not when he’d stopped talking to you for days after you made fun of his dirt-caked sneakers (I’m sorry Hyunjin, I thought I’d earned that privilege!), and especially not when he’d left you, nineteen years old with not even a look back as he left to be something great while you were stuck being the younger version of your parents— a nobody.

You’d watched him grow up. You watched him mature from the young boy he was and into a man, and in turn he’d watched you as well. You were there when his voice deepened, when his mole started to fade— you were there when his eyebrows thickened and he lost all his baby fat. You were there when he had a huge growth spurt that left him hovering over you more often than not, even when you had always been the tallest. And in turn, he’d watched you. He was there when you decided to grow your hair out and also when you’d decided to cut it— he was there when you’d started to grow in your body and boys and girls started to take notice— he was there when you’d found something you loved, and he was there when your heart broke for the first time.

You were there to watch him bloom— standing by his side all the while as he did— knowing somewhere deep in your heart that he was meant for much more than the shoddy town you both had grown up in. It wasn’t horrible, no, you’d had a lot of fun growing up there. You never lacked fun, or something to do, or friends to make, but it wasn’t a place for flourishing.

It was a place where everyone knew everyone, where everyone went to the same spot to get alcohol, where everyone knew the best spot to get a fake ID; it was a place where the older generation couldn’t fathom why anyone would want a place in the city, where the docks still held old boats from the 70’s and the houses still held the same structure from years ago. It was a great town, one that held memories, but one that lacked growth.

You were there when Hyunjin flourished, when he grew so tall and bloomed so wide that he could no longer fit in your shoddy little town. When his wings spread so far that if he stayed he’d have to slouch a little— crouch down just to fit in. You were there when he found something he loved, when he found the one thing that made him happiest, when he found a dream to chase after.

You were there through his firsts— when he’d gotten his first job, his first rejection, when he’d gotten his first bad grade and his first perfect grade. You were there when the first argument with his parents turned into frequent ones. You were there during his drama lessons, during his practices, you were there when people would tell him he would never amount to anything— when people said he’d be a failure just like his parents— and you were also the one to stand up for him, throwing your first punch in his honor.

You never understood Hyunjin but you knew him. How he’d pick holes into his jeans when he was nervous, and dye his hair when he was really angry— how he’d sometimes just give you a hug, no warning and no words, just his warm embrace and for seemingly no reason at all, but you knew. You knew how he laughed when he was really happy, when he was being fake, when he laughed something small and sad. You knew what every twitch of his brows meant. You knew what he was trying to say when he’d look at you and his lips would quirk up for a split second— that was all you needed to know what he was trying to say without really saying it. You never understood your best friend, but you knew him. He was yours, and you were his. You didn’t need to understand because you knew. You were there.

You both liked to play the same video games, and every day after school you’d play before pulling out your homework. On the first day of school and every friday afterwards you’d both wear matching T-shirts— and whenever you’d manage to scrape up any money that was always what you spent it on. Something you both could match with. Weekends at the arcade in the next town over, going to the fair in the summer every single day until it closed for the year, swimming in the lake behind your house on the hottest summer days. Going to Mielle’s Diner like it was the best treat that your young minds could ever dream of. You both watched the same movies over and over again and would cry at the same exact parts. You’d read books together and yell at each other about them all the while, and watch whatever new drama was out — falling head over heels for the leads.

Now, the Hyunjin you see is a stranger. Twenty-six years to your twenty-four, he’s unrecognizable— in the way he dresses, in the way he talks, in the way he moves— even in the way he breathes. It’s clear that you no longer know Hwang Hyunjin from eight years ago. And of course that’s normal. After eight years you might not recognize what used to be your favorite song, or your childhood dog, your favorite TV show— if you hadn’t seen your parents in eight years you might not recognize them— but for you, someone who had always believed you and Hyunjin would be best friends forever— as childish as it was, looking at Hyunjin now feels like betrayal. Like heartbreak, one much worse than what made you stay all those years ago— it feels like coming home after a long day just to see your stuff thrown on the porch. It feels like going on a date expecting a proposal only to be broken up with. It feels like getting rejected from your dream school.

Seeing Hyunjin now isn’t familiar. You’ve seen him every once in a while on TV, in a magazine, in a cameo of your favorite show— but that wasn’t Hyunjin. Not your Hyunjin. That wasn’t the Hyunjin that used to throw rocks at your window and help you sneak out to go to karaoke. That wasn’t the Hyunjin that would always come to the diner where you worked and tip extra with the money he barely had. That wasn’t the Hyunjin that bought you your first pair of sneakers after fifteen years of hand-me-downs. That wasn’t the Hyunjin who’d rubbed your back and cried with you on the worst day of your life.

Yet, somehow, it is him. In the way he laughs, in the way he stands just a few inches taller than you, in the way his lips curve up and dimples form in a way you’d never seen before. It’s in the way he says “hey” and wraps you up in a hug like those eight years were really only eight seconds— as if he was just coming back from a week long vacation. It’s him in the way he brings warmth everywhere he goes, embracing you so tightly, so utterly comforting, that it feels like you’ve been rolled up inside a heated blanket on a cold, winter day. You’ve seen him every once in a while, on TV, in a magazine, and realized— that is him. It was him in an interview with dogs, cuddling and cooing at them for twenty minutes straight. It was him doing a tour of his home, books littered everywhere, canvases with the most intricate designs on his walls, it was him, when he still lit up at the sight of anything new— because those things don’t go away. Those old habits and interests that are ingrained so deep; so painfully deep, don’t just go away.

Seeing Hyunjin again is like finding a forgotten trinket in the back of your closet, like finding your favorite book or shirt after months— years, even— of thinking you’d lost it forever. It’s a sudden bout of nostalgia, a remembrance of something you used to love, something you cherished. But maybe the shirt doesn’t fit you anymore. Maybe the book doesn’t interest you. Seeing Hyunjin is like that— someone you used to love more than anyone; someone you used to cherish, but he’s a thing from the past, and eventually you’d always lose those items again. They’d lay in the darkness of the deepest corners of your closet, waiting for the chance to be found again or forgotten forever.

You don’t think seeing Hyunjin again is much different, except you’re the thing in the closet, and you’re fine with being forgotten.

It’s been eight years. You never understood Hyunjin, but you knew him. You knew each other better than anyone else could, but the Hyunjin you see today is a stranger. This is not the Hyunjin you know, and you hope he leaves as quickly as he came so your heart can’t be broken for a third time.

[ekuns]

twitter: https://twitter.com/icedsalt / https://twitter.com/riisports

pixiv: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/99329402

streamer stuff: https://www.twitch.tv/riimake / https://twitter.com/rii_make

youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@riimake_ch

original/oc 'LNs': this is a google drive link