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@j4dore
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@ 𝚓𝟺𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎 ! an independent HORROR original character multimuse blog for fictional all boy and all monster idol group J 4 D O R E obsessively stanned by spectre. this is a 18+ blog, please read rules before interacting !
🎶 FANBASE ⸻ dr namkung hyuntae ﹠ zero ﹠ lee kangho ﹠ yato ﹠ duchess ﹠ willow w. 🎶
worst thing about this account is knowing that people are going to see my tags on their posts about my cringe ass characters and think im some huge kpop stan or koreaboo who may or not be obsessed with k.pop d.emon h.unters (have not seen the movie and dont plan on it)
j4dore being a kpop group is really just more of a vehicle for all of these characters to know each other.
Hyuntae is glad he was recording for all of that—any information is good information—but he isn’t looking forward to hearing that snide tone again on the replay. He stares at Yoojin with a calm, blank expression, and stifles his annoyance to the best of his ability. Reacting will get him nowhere.
“No,” he says simply. If it’s going to be rude, then it can suffer a headache.
He pauses his recorder and retrieves some papers from his coat, scanning over them briefly.
⁹ And they became pregnant, and they bare great giants, whose height was three thousand ells: Who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind. ¹⁰ And they began to sin against birds, and beasts, and reptiles, and fish, and to devour one another's flesh, and drink the blood. Then the earth laid accusation against the lawless ones.
‘Three thousand ells’ is notably inaccurate. He wonders if that’s a case of exaggerated lore or if the stature of these creatures has devolved over time for ease’s sake. He can’t rule out the possibility of a translation error, either; this is an old text written in an old language.
‘Lawless ones’, however, has a nice ring to it, and seems entirely suitable.
His eyes flicker back toward the caged abomination. “On average, how is your appetite?”
he thinks he knows that’s on those papers that hyuntae stops to study for a moment — he’s not sure if it’s just a good guess or if he knows in the way that he just knows things, but either way it pisses him off. this guy pisses him off. actually, all of this does, and when he is out of here jun is going to answer for this. he will be broken and sobbing when he crawls back to his keeper. won’t be too hard to accomplish.
“ sure you’ve heard the stories — i mean, isn’t that what you have there? ” he gestures dismissively, a roll of his eyes. yoojin is sure whoever has been doing zero’s finances nearly had a heart attack when they saw the spike in money spent on food and alcohol since yoojin has come to stay with him. ( and use his money. ) “ but since you're nosey — a lot. i’m always hungry. always want a drink. always want more. gluttony in carnate, or whatever-the-fuck. ”
really, where does this guy get off thinking he can get away with doing this? how would he like being put in a cage and prodded? there isn’t even enough on his bones to fantasize eating him alive. really, what use does he serve? namkung really is the dullest little mosquito, buzzing in monotone around the ears of the superior creatures of los angeles. but why the fuck are so many of them so scared of him?
“ i’m a drunk and a drug addict. a whore. i’m so insatiable that i eat people. but, like, everyone knows this. pretty sure it says that on your little papers, yeah? i dunno, you want me to read it to you or something? like, baby bird all the information back to you? ”
“I don’t imagine it is.” There’s a smile in his voice that can’t be found on his face. “You seem reasonable, though. If this goes well, it goes quickly. You’ll be back to your life in no time at all. I just need to study you a bit.”
He considers, for a moment, talking business with it, offering it a cut of whatever he makes off the samples he’s going to take. But, then again, he is under no obligation to tell it anything at all. For all the dhampir knows, his interest here is purely academic.
And besides, Taeho is clearly intelligent. He can make his own money.
“If you like, I can do everything I need to do while you’re under. Put you back to sleep and let you wake up again at home.”
hyuntae is right, taeho is intelligent — which means he can piece together what is happening and make educated guesses as to what might happen later. he might not participate in the trade himself, or at least not anymore, but he knows about what market there is out there for monster parts. his own blood, quite literally, paid for his shop front before it started to pay for itself.
as he stands, he braces himself with hands on the wall. careful, slow movements before he is able to speak, to move and look at the scientist that stares in at him like he is a lion at the zoo. “ mm, no. i’d rather know what you are doing, ” he knows he doesn’t have the power here, so the least he can do is be agreeable. from what he has heard from the others, dr. namkung can be very reasonable. maybe taeho can prove he can be reasonable too. “ but i will take numbing, if that’s an option. ”
he wants to know where the tracker is placed so that he may remove it — taeho will not allow himself to be tagged like an animal.
anyone wanna be added to the list? 👀 (its my affiliates on my pinned post!)
“Thank you.” Kangho beams, dipping his head graciously. He’ll attribute the flush on his cheeks to the exercise. “I’ve been practicing since I was little.”
A skill honed through unyielding passion and enthusiasm. Minsu recently asked him if he enjoyed his work, because it so often seems like he doesn’t. He felt so guilty, so ungrateful—singing and dancing are his lifeblood; he needs them to live and he can’t imagine doing anything else. Ever since he could move, he’s danced—and it shows, and he’s proud of that. Same with singing: he puffs up with pride when anyone mentions his perfect pitch, and his ability to keep it during intensive choreography; his breath control, his dedication. Performing itself is heaven. He loves it. He really does. It’s the other stuff he could do without.
“But you’re better than me, really.” He skips over to his backpack, pulling the water bottle from its pocket and taking a long, cool drink. It’s a little embarrassing to be upstaged in stamina by someone older than him, even by only a few years. Usually he’s the one to outshine. Maybe it’s all the American drugs he’s been doing. “Even more effortless. You’ve barely broken a sweat.”
He was, of course, paying very close attention to Jun during their dance. He’s dreamy, a more feral beauty than Minsu’s but with a lot of the same key factors, the family resemblance notable to say the least.
“If you have a secret, please teach me.”
it's hard to tell if that statement — you're better than me — comes from social obligation or a genuine belief that it’s the truth. jun laughs, eyes falling closed as he shakes his head. “ i used to teach dance classes to elementary and middle school kids, that’s the only reason i have the energy i do. ” a lie, or maybe only a half truth. he doesn’t know how much his cousin has revealed about the world to this poor boy.
he wonders how he will react when he learns what hides in plain sight. will he accept it so easily like minsu did? will he fold under the pressure like jun did himself? will he weep? god, he looks like he would be a beautiful crier. jun turns his attention away to his own water bottle for a nice long drink, head upturned, elegant neck exposed.
“ besides, i meant your technique. you make very technically challenging moves look effortless. i think i could learn some things from you. ”
an open invitation; surely, because this boy wants to get close to his cousin, he might want to get closer to those around him. at this point minsu must have explained how important jun is to him — maybe not directly, but despite how close minsu likes to think he holds his emotions it’s never been particularly hard to read him.
“ actually, i think i could leard a lot from you. do you mind if i ask for your advice even now and then? about more than dancing — i mean, just in general. i’m new to all of this. ” he gestures around. he means the entertainment industry.
@nonplayabl said: i can't tell if we're dancing or negotiating. / 4 jun frum kangho
“ management probably thinks the latter, ” whether or not a collaboration comes from this, he is having fun. they are few and far between but he has seen the pictures of minsu with kangho. he’s seen kangho’s name come up on minsu’s lockscreen too — and when jun asks, he always flips his phone over and tells him not to worry about it.
well, now minsu has gone and got him all curious. maybe by dancing he is negotiating for another chance to see him. a chance to talk. to figure out just what the hell is happening between the two of them.
bonus points that he’s cute.
“ either way, we should take a break — ” he certainly doesn’t need to — demonhood has awarded him the ability to dance as long as he could possibly want should he be fed enough. but he isn’t… and the sound of kangho’s heartbeat is a little distracting. besides, he looks like he could use it. the poor boy is practically panting like a dog. “ you are an excellent dancer, not that you needed me to tell you that, though. you make it look so effortless. ”
Once again, Hyuntae allows Sungkyu to take the lead. They leave the basement and ascend to the main house, which is just as eerily pristine in its emptiness, if not more so. That vague unsettled feeling comes over Hyuntae again. He finds himself looking over his shoulder, keeping one eye on the windows. Anytime Sungkyu lingers for too long in a place where an imagined enemy could get a clear shot, Hyuntae carefully repositions him elsewhere—and he takes great care to watch where he stands, too.
There is no gunfire, no lurking vehicles, no suspicious strangers walking around the block; there is safety in broad daylight, the busy city street filled with potential witnesses. For now, at least, they aren’t in any danger. Still, Hyuntae indulges each overly-cautious impulse. He just can’t shake the unease, and anyway there’s no harm in being careful.
Perhaps it’s the quiet, looming sense that he’s looking into his own future that makes him so wary: if the wrong people found out about his work, or if he placed his trust incorrectly, he might end up just like Moon—dead and gone with a too-clean, too-quiet house left in his wake. An anticlimax with no evidence. Sometimes he feels as though he’s careening toward something vast and horrible, an oblivion he can’t name, and as he looks around this lifeless house, he thinks something may be clicking into place.
But that doesn’t matter now. There are other things to focus on. He opens a closed door into an office space—a desk, a safe, file cabinets. No doubt more pieces to the puzzle, gems of research.
“Here, I've found it,” he announces, quick to usher Sungkyu inside. He'd paused in front of a window again.
this house has sat long enough that dust glitters in the slivers of yellow-gold sunlight that trickle in through partially parted blinds. sungkyu’s tearfilled eyes struggle to make clear what’s around him, but he tries — memories still hit him like bullets despite the sorrow haze. once again he is happy to have hyuntae there — he won’t dwell on these types of emotions, he understands that there is more here than just the memories that sting like lemon and vinegar in fresh wounds. there are answers to both of their questions. hyuntae’s metaphorical hand guides him out of the dark over and over and sungkyu can be nothing but thankful.
he doesn’t hesitate — the corpse boy goes where he is called like a faithful dog. it’s the messiest room by far, though it’s hard to tell if it’s messy because of a ransack raid or if doctor moon simply wasn't terribly organized. folders overflow with papers and pages, books placed open and spine up on the hardwood desk instead of using a bookmark. pens litter the surface, some of them missing their caps and long sense dried out. haphazardly organized bookshelves line every wall that doesn’t have a window or a door.
he remembers nagging victor about cleaning this place. he remembers that the next time he came over, the stacks on victor’s desk were more neatly placed — but all that work was quickly undone when sungkyu was pushed into the surface.
his stomach turns in knots but he fights back every urge to double over from the weight of it all. he doesn’t realize he has reached out to hyuntae for stability.
“ i have no idea where to even begin looking, ” sungkyu confesses, focusing on his breathing, at the task at hand, “ do you think the key when to a drawer in the desk? ”
ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM ALL-OUT PARTY PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.
THE PREGAME
i promised myself i'd behave, and then i showed up here.
why does every bad decision start with music this loud?
don't babysit me, just refill my cup.
someone hid the water on purpose, i swear.
if this ends with pizza, it was worth it.
i'm already texting people i shouldn't.
this feels like the calm before something stupid.
i didn't dress like this to sit down.
we're definitely not remembering everything tomorrow.
hand me that bottle like you mean it.
who invited you, and why are you already this drunk?
if i take one more shot, it's your fault.
don't tell me to pace myself, tell me to hydrate later.
is this vodka, or did someone lie to me aggressively?
i have not eaten, and i regret nothing.
let's not even go out.. let's stay in and have our own party!
why is the music already this loud?
we're starting strong tonight, huh.
you're smiling like you're about to make bad choices.
i said one drink, and now i'm holding four.
if i die tonight, delete my texts.
who's house is this again?
i swear i was sober five minutes ago.
don't look at me like that unless you're pouring another shot.
this is either going to be legendary or embarrassing.
i already lost my dignity, so cheers.
ON THE DANCE FLOOR
you keep pulling me back every time i drift away.
if you pull me any closer, i'm not pretending to resist.
keep your hands there. i dare you.
you feel really good this close.
if the lights were on, this would be dangerous.
you move like you know exactly what you're doing.
you keep brushing against me on purpose, don't lie.
this song is doing us no favors.
if you keep staring, i'm going to do something about it.
you're making it hard to pretend we're just friends.
i can't tell if we're dancing or negotiating.
why are you looking at my mouth like that?
you always dance like you're trying to start trouble.
dance with me or move, you're blocking my view.
tell me this isn't flirting. i dare you.
you're way too confident for someone this close to me.
stop grinding on me like that if you're not serious.
i can feel your heartbeat through your chest.
your hands are saying things your mouth won't.
you move like you want to be noticed.
if i turn around, you better not stop.
you're sweating, and somehow it's hot.
don't pretend you didn't come over here for me.
DRUNK CONFESSIONS AND MESSY, JEALOUS ENERGY
i don't usually trust people this fast.
you didn't deny it, that's interesting.
i don't like watching you smile at them.
you know exactly what you're doing to me.
i tried not to care, and failed.
don't test how patient i am tonight.
you came back, so don't play dumb.
i saw the way they touched you.
you don't get this reaction from everyone.
i hate how much i notice.
you belong right here, not over there.
you feel familiar in a way that scares me.
i don't hate this version of myself with you.
i was hoping you'd talk to me tonight.
you make me forget why i'm guarded.
i'm bad at this, so be patient.
i don't open up, and yet here i am.
you make the noise in my head quieter.
i didn't expect you to matter this much.
i'm saying too much, but i don't want to stop.
who was that you were dancing with?
you didn't look at them the way you look at me.
don't pretend you didn't notice me watching.
are you trying to make me jealous, or is it natural?
i don't like sharing your attention.
you disappeared, and i didn't like it.
you're mine tonight, right?
don't flirt with them in front of me.
i know i don't get to say that, but still.
you came back to me for a reason.
i've wanted to kiss you since the first drink.
i don't say this sober, but you make me nervous.
i think about you more than i should.
i'm not usually this honest, so don't make it weird.
i kind of want you to ruin my night.
you're my favorite bad idea.
i tell myself not to want you, and then i drink.
you're the reason i showed up tonight.
i don't trust myself around you when i'm drunk.
if i say something stupid, blame the alcohol.
i think you know exactly how hot you are.
i'd choose you over everyone in this room.
i'm way too drunk to lie to you.
i don't want to go home alone.
PURE FLIRTATIOUS/SUGGESTIVE/DIRTY TALK
you're testing me on purpose, admit it.
that look should come with a warning.
don't act shy now, it doesn't suit you.
if i lean in, it's mutual.
you're way too calm for someone stirring this much trouble.
tell me to stop, or don't.
you always push just enough.
i like how bold you get after a few drinks.
i want you focused on me.
you're all i can think about right now.
if i start something, i won't half-ass it.
you look like you want to be handled.
i don't need subtle from you tonight.
you're making promises without saying a word.
i'm losing patience, fair warning.
you're not being gentle with my self-control.
i want your attention, fully.
keep looking at me like that.
are you always this tempting, or am i just drunk?
you're looking at me like you want something.
if you keep leaning in, i'm kissing you.
don't tease me unless you plan to follow through.
you smell really good, and it's distracting.
i'm trying to behave, but you're not helping.
that smile should be illegal.
tell me what you're thinking. i know it's dirty.
you're playing innocent badly.
if we leave together, no one would be surprised.
you keep touching me like it's an accident.
i'm not stopping you.
say my name again like that.
you look even better up close.
i want you somewhere quieter.
i've been imagining this all night.
you're driving me insane.
i don't care who sees us.
you feel way too good for a public place.
keep your voice down, or don't..
i'm losing my self-control with every drink.
you're going to be the reason i make a scene.
touch me again and see what happens.
i want your mouth on me, now.
you're trouble, and i'm leaning in.
i'm done pretending i don't want you.
if you pull me away, i won't fight it.
i want to go somewhere we can be louder.
THE SMOKING-AREA SECTION
this feels like a secret we're keeping together..
you look good when you're plotting something.
i like this side of you, a little reckless.
don't pretend the tension isn't real.
you're leaning closer every sentence.
i could stay out here with you all night.
the air feels charged, doesn't it?
you always corner me when you want something.
this is getting harder to ignore.
say it. whatever you're thinking.
why is it always hotter out here?
you followed me outside on purpose.
this is where the real conversations happen.
you look dangerous under this light.
don't stand that close unless you mean it.
i like you better away from the crowd.
you always flirt harder when no one's watching.
you're making it hard to focus on anything else.
if i kiss you right now, would you stop me?
this night just got interesting.
you taste like alcohol and bad ideas.
stay out here with me a minute longer.
you're trouble in a very specific way.
i could drag you back inside, or somewhere else.
don't look at me like that unless you're ready.
THE END OF THE NIGHT
i don't think i'm sober enough to say goodbye.
you coming with me, or am i begging?
i don't want this night to end yet.
my place is closer than yours.
let's not think about tomorrow.
i'll regret this, but i'll regret not doing it more.
stay. please.
i don't want to overthink this.
you're already halfway convinced.
nah, you know we can't do this..
we can deal with consequences later.
this feels like a yes waiting to happen.
i don't want to say goodnight yet.
stay close, just like this.
i'll walk you, or you can come with me.
this night doesn't feel finished.
i want more time with you.
let's not make this complicated.
you're already halfway in my arms.
we can pretend this was planned.
i don't trust myself to sleep alone.
if you leave now, i'll be mad at you forever.
i like you like this. honest and reckless.
come home with me.
i don't need another drink. i need you.
this feels like the start of something messy.
THE MORNING AFTER
tell me we didn't imagine that.
my head hurts, but i'm smiling.
so.. last night happened, right?
i regret nothing except the tequila.
we should probably talk about that.
how'd you even get me home?
about last night..
my phone is judging me, but i'm not.
i woke up smiling and annoyed about it.
please tell me you're not ghosting me.
we need coffee and a conversation.
i'm embarrassed, but also curious.
are we talking about this?
hey, thanks for taking care of me last night.
did i leave my underwear at your place?
i keep replaying last night.
whatever happened last night should've never happened.
that wasn't nothing, right?
i hope you got home safe.
i kind of want to do it again, sober or not.
Nephilim? What a diverse ecosystem of abomination! Yato doesn’t know what to make of it, so he doesn’t comment. He already feels bad, anyway: the look on Sungkyu’s face would shame even the hardest of hearts. If he had any lingering doubts about this being’s persistent humanity, they are put to rest.
All’s well for now. He commits to the idea of keeping tabs on this thing, though. If the spirit starts decaying inside its husk, Sungkyu’s human essence would inevitably disappear, creating an entirely new atrocity in its wake—at which point Yato would be forced to act. If nothing else, he could inform the heavens, outsourcing the problem to the correct paygrade.
“Yato, at your service!” He smiles brightly, tossing up a peace sign. All prior tension is snuffed out. “Don’t look so glum! I didn’t mean to upset you. I’d like to be friends.”
He will be held responsible for this friendship, should the worst come to pass. But he isn’t thinking about that anymore. Instead, he’s thinking about the ache in his belly.
“Speakin’ of, friend, you got any money? Food is so expensive here. And nobody accepts the currency I have.” He summons his half-empty bottle of coins, jingling it pitifully. He has yet to find many Americans willing to pay him for his services. He thought he’d have better luck in California. Figures.
“ oh! ”
it is way, way too expensive in california. every day he’s thankful for zero’s generosity — without it, he wouldn’t have gotten very far at all. but now he is making money of his own; might as well pay it forward in any way he can! ( and a bonus if it earns him any points with a god of all people… )
“ i can take you somewhere! do you have a big appetite? i know of this one place around here that sells noodle bowls the size of our heads! ” he gestures enthusiastically, bouncing on his toes. it’s one of the only places in the area that can satisfy yoojin — they don’t always let him in, though, on account of his piss poor attitude.
“ please! it would be my pleasure to take you! ”
OH OK SO ACTUALLY THIS FUCKS SO HARD
this might just be a me thing but do yall ever take a break from a blog and then come back and the graphics are so distractingly Not The Vibe anymore that it makes you unable to concentrate on actually writing?
Hyuntae catches the keys, peering at them closely for a moment before looking back at Sungkyu. He studies the way grief paints his face. He imagines himself moved by it, and his expression softens slightly: a well-practiced trick to keep himself from appearing too callous. He doesn’t want to give Sungkyu the wrong idea. He cares, in his way.
“Thank you.” He infuses his voice with the medicinal warmth usually reserved for cancerous children. “I wonder why these were left behind...”
Having sufficiently performed empathy, he turns his attention back to the contents of the lab. He investigates the place from top to bottom, gathering up as much of the research as he can; as his arms fill up, he begins taking trips to and from the car. Every time he exits the building, he feels uneasy. Exposed. Whoever killed Moon could be nearby, watching, waiting. Why was so much of the research left behind? If not for his work, why was he killed?
Perhaps everything was left as it was as a sort of trap for Sungkyu. The cleanup might’ve happened only as a precautionary measure to avoid the unnecessary complications of a discovered crime scene. Bodies rot; neighbors notice smells. It would make sense. It’s what Hyuntae would do.
He returns to the building for the last time. He glances around, feeling like a vulture: the lab has been picked clean. He looks at Sungkyu.
“The key didn’t go to anything here. Would you like to explore upstairs? We shouldn't stay here much longer, but I'm curious. Perhaps it will jog your memory further.”
out of the corner of his eye he sees hyuntae greedily take armful after armful to the car. all sungkyu can do, really, is stand in the middle of the room, imagining what it could have been like here before the bullet holes and bloodstains. what would it have been like while doctor moon orbited around the pieces that make up his body now? would he have been listening to music? recording himself? are their tapes of his experiments somewhere to watch?
memories flicker like dying candle flames behind his eyes of the last time he was here, the last time he say doctor moon alive. there was a knowing sorrow behind his eyes as he looked onto his creation. the bite of finality in his kiss. he knew his fate before sungkyu had the chance to reknow him. something about the way doctor moon’s fingertips lingered on sungkyu’s cheek felt like a goodbye before he remembered the concept.
when hyuntae comes back into the room, sungkyu’s eyes are once again filled with tears — but his voice does not warble. “ yes, ” he says with certainty, using the delicate backs of his fingers to wipe away the wetness from his lashes, “ i think we should check. i don’t… i don’t think he would have kept the important stuff here. i think he knew what was coming. ”
the basement stairs creak under their weight as they make their way up. the house is stuffy and the air is thick — clearly no one has been in or out of here in quite some time. immediately, sungkyu is assaulted by memory, haunted by the ghosts of days he can’t remember. he reaches out for comfort, gripping the edge of hyuntae’s sleeve in silent desperation. still, despite the way his face screws up in emotional agony yet again, he presses forward.
“ we should check his office. ”
At first he does not notice that Sungkyu has started to weep. He’s too engrossed in the scene in front of them, its layers of mystery. Immediately his eyes are drawn to the brimming file cabinets, the drawers, the x-rays. He’s about to start collecting things when the corpse speaks again. Hyuntae hesitates for a moment before tearing his eyes away from this treasure trove.
It is only natural that this would be emotional for Sungkyu. Still, the sheer agony on his face is something of a surprise. Hyuntae’s unwavering stare lingers.
“Too easy?”
What does he mean by that? Hyuntae looks around the room again. Now he absorbs the details that no doubt stood out to his companion: the bullet holes, the disorganized evidence of a clean-up crew, the abandoned coat.
“He’s been killed.” Matter-of-fact, plain. Unfeeling. “The people who did it are confident enough not to care about visitors, or what could be found here. That likely means they have considerable power.”
Eyes back on the file cabinets.
“Or they intend to come back.”
he’s been killed. sungkyu know this to be true, he knew this before coming here in the first place, and yet it still stings like salt in a wound. his eyes screw shut, he licks the tears that have gathered on his lips and swallows down the lump in his throat as he tries to process everything slowly, inch by inch, as to not be overtaken with emotion. sungkyu misses a man he can barely remember, and faced with the reality he will meet him again…
the first thing sungkyu collects from the lab is the pristine white coat. he inspects it closely, feels the coarse, starchy fabric in his hands. brings it to his nose and carefully, shyly, takes a deep breath. it smells of formaldehyde, of bleach and whatever other cleaning products were used to clean up the crime scene. but the collar smells faintly sweet – the last dying breaths of lingering cologne, gentle and bright. lively. sungkyu has to go explore the house to find the source of this smell. he needs to take it home with him.
out from the breast pocket of the coat comes tumbling out a small set of keys — square, black plastic cover heads, surely for a filing cabinet or a lock box. the sound of them tinkling to the floor pulls sungkyu out of his despair, reminding him not to topple off the edge.
“ doctor namkung? ” sungkyu pulls the keys off of the floor with shaky fingers, tossing them over to hyuntae when he turns his attention, “ i don’t know what they are for, but they might be useful. ”
the corpse boy dries his tears with the back of his hand. he clutches the labcoat to his chest. with a shaky breath, he turns his attention to the rest of the room around him.
Scholar Who Walks The Night (2015)
Lee Soo-hyuk as Gwi
Episode 20
She is startled by his sudden presence—startled and humiliated. This is not how this was supposed to go. Her first instinct is to flee. There are mirrors everywhere; she could be gone in an instant. However, something keeps her in place. She can’t tell if it’s intuition, a higher power, or simply a freeze response; whatever the case, the result is the same.
Duchess rubs her eyes, hoping to mask the bleary threat of tears, and watches Sungkyu guide the animals’ attention elsewhere. His smile puts her a little more at ease, reminding her why she came here in the first place. She thinks of her terrible lonely vision and makes a conscious commitment to see this through.
“Thank you.” Her voice is smaller than usual. She clears her throat and forces herself to hold her head high. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to handle dogs very well. If only it had been the lion instead, then… Anyway, actually, I—oh, this is just awful, I wanted to make a better impression—I came for you.”
She wrings her hands, nervous. Now she doesn’t dare look into a mirror. The sight of her own insecurity will only worsen it. Awkwardly, she dips into a curtsey.
“I’ve been watching you for some time now. I think—I think you are a perfect gentleman, Sungkyu, and I’ve—well, I’m on this divine mission…” This is no way to clarify things. Suddenly she’s inarticulate. She tries to laugh her frustration away, hiding behind her hair. “I wanted—I wanted to meet you, is the point. I’m Duchess. I’ve brought you some embalming fluid to drink. I’ve seen you sipping on it. Um, I added some grenadine, I hope that’s alright. It didn’t smell very pleasurable and I wanted to bring something that would taste nice.”
She retrieves a bottle from within the folds of her dress and offers it to him hopefully.
well! sungkyu is at a loss for words. in a house with movie stars and extroverts, he never expected to be the one to be sought after. his surprise is worn on his face, his lashes fluttering as he blinks away the disbelief.
“ wait. really? me? ” a perfect gentleman? is sungkyu blushing? he reaches out to accept the bottle with both hands, offering a small dip of his head in thanks. she really has been watching him, huh? does she see how he turns his nose up at the embalming fluid when he has to take it normally? is that why she decided to flavor it? “ that’s so kind of you to bring me something — i love grenadine! ”
one of the few sweet syrups he can taste with little to no issue — did she know that too? duchess — so she is royalty! should he bow more? how should he address her? he hugs his gift to his chest like a treasure — the decorative bottle sure makes it feel that way.
“ uhm, may i ask how you have been watching me? like, with magic? do you get visions like yoojin? ” she seems much too whimsical for regular old, traditional, non-magical stalking. then again, so does felix, so he really can’t be too sure.
