wysangyun-blog

[wysangyun-blog]

Show & Tell ; workshop prompt open starter !!

Prompt ; Content~

He stares at the water with eyes that blur and a heart lighter than he remembers it being. Thoughts had been spiked in the last years. So much to do with kicking the habit so much anger, stress, sadness. He was so afraid of himself for so long.

That changes now. He inhales the salty air so deeply that salt sticks to his lungs and the sea fills his veins. One month. One month of being sober, a minuscule step but, not to him. He smiles at the water crashing feet in front of him, leans back and slips his fingers and palms into sand.

His attention is caught by someone and he turns his head to look. If they recognized him he might have to deal with the spotlight but today he isn’t afraid. Stranger, fan, friend or foe he just gazes plainly, a nod of his head as if telling them silently that he hopes they enjoy their day as well.

After eye contact it was only polite that he speak so he quietly does. “Hello,” he mumbles, awkward but not angry, unhappy, uncomfortable as usual. 

Maybe he can finally become the man he wanted to be.

[wysangyun-blog]

sang-yun self-para 01:

he had shoved his managers off hours ago, swatted them away with a mood so foul they would probably be stiff and awkward around him for weeks to come. they hated when he got that way, but it’s not his damn fault━ can’t they understand how he feels, at all?  he pushes a hand through his hair, fresh honey blond because his manager wants him to adapt a better image; should be easy, he has a new ‘ girlfriend ’ now, he’s doing PR to make himself look better too, but all of this isn’t enough. not if he can’t even win his damn matches. 

he kicks a post, looks down at his bruised knuckles with a curling stomach. televised matches are the worst; when he loses those, he can feel the weight of the world smash into him. it’s happening too slow, he’s taking too long to get used to fighting while sober again, it’s been so long since he didn’t have that extra juice, rage inhibiting, blood pumping. he has nothing to fall back on now, no safety net of fabricated rage. halloween decorations lined the streets and in the night like it is, it’s almost beautiful, but he can’t take the time to appreciate it. his thoughts are a tunnel as he stalks the streets, so much to check up on, so much to take account of :

days that he’s been sober ? 48. 

days since he thought about using ? 1.

days since he felt lonely ? 2.

days since he hated himself ? 4.

days since he lost a match ? 4 hours.

days since he won one ? 12. 

his win to loss ratio? 4 out of 7 this season so far. 2 thirds he won. but the one percent, he grits his teeth until his head hurts. if he just gave in, lowered himself to past habits, he knew just what might give him the edge he needed to win his matches again. say what you want about his publicity, his way of going about things when he was on the low, at least he won. 

sure, the called him ruthless, said he didn’t fight fair, he got more warnings and unsportsmanlike call outs and dirty looks, but he was undefeatable. like a wild animal ready to pounce at any motion, at the throat of the situation.

he draws in a deep breath, exhales as he realized he had roamed his way back to his apartment. he used to live there with his brother but a falling out had them split apart again. now it was silence, sweet and deadly silence.

everything aches, his pride most of all. . . 

 ... tbc

[wysangyun-blog]

wysyijun·:

𝐘𝐢𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭, like the man working at the brothel told him. But it was hard to force his anxiety to stay calm and down, honestly. He couldn’t ever understand what went through his head when he had thought of working here… Money really coulddrive people mad. What if he had ended up as a prostitute here ?!

When he heard the door of the office he was waiting in, Yijun tensed and looked up. Seeing Kyungmin leave right when the man who entered asked him, Yijun guessed it was someone powerful - though his outfit was rather decontracted. The young man stayed stiff as the unknown man checked him out - he even gulped, kind of scared. “I’m Song Yijun, I’m 22, and I guess I’m more of a cat person since I have Mochi, even if I love my sister’s dogs” he immediatly answered, without really thinking about it

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━   sangyun attempts a grin, something small but not as stiff as usual. his brother rarely put in a good word these days, didn’t hand others over to him unless they were special. he considers it as he stars at the tall man before him, something kind in his eyes, uncertain and uncomfortable. 

it’s endearing to see people like that left in this world. so hateful and cruel, dragon’s strolling the streets and creatures lurking in the night. this place always brings out the worst in him, even just standing here across from the man━ yijun, he can’t help but want to get out of this place. years in this life had left him bitter, bones creaking with pressure, the burden of this life.

he nods, again. “that’s good,” he says like the stats really mattered, cats or dogs, really he was trying to get a feel for the other, but he couldn’t reveal his strategy so easily. “i heard about you, that you needed a hand. i need a hand too, maybe we can work something out...i’m on the market for someone to run errands for me.” a simple task on the surface, but it required more loyalty and trust, competency, than any job here at the brothel would.

[wysangyun-blog]

wynamki·:

                                night strolls through the streets were one of his more tame guilty pleasures and tonight had been one of those nights where he needed to get out of the hectic scene that took up most of what he did; opting instead for the ambient noise of the world as he just… walks. just walking and thinking. his mind deep into itself.

                                the fun part of times like this was that when he finally pulled himself out of his own thoughts, he tended to have no idea where his feet had taken him. there were more than a few times where he’d found himself totally lost and needing to take a cab home just out of frustration. true, gps on his phone could have guided him back, but most of the time his feet were sore and he was starving. these walks were never short. 

                                an early break caused the train in his mind to screech to a halt though, his shoulder jerking back slightly at the crash of another body into his. eyes refocusing, they instantly turned to look at the other, flicking from place to place to take in everything that told him this bloody mess was NOT, in fact, an early costume. 

                                ❝ no worries, ❞ namki answered instinctively before stepping back just slightly, not bothering to hide the fact that he was looking the other over. ❝ rough night? ❞  a dumb ass thing to say. but he was incapable of not being either blunt or sarcastic. 

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ he pauses, takes the other in just as they do for him and if he had an ounce of him left for shame he’d be burning with it. but there’s no room. nothing next to anger. he’s too mad at himself to be ashamed of himself at the moment. “rough night.” he affirms, dropping his hands to his sides so they can’t be an ugly scar in the conversation any longer.

he thinks the guy must not watch boxing, not avidly, since there’s no draw back of being recognized and immediately disliked in the other’s eyes. it’s almost inevitable that when people recognize him they act like he might lose his cool at any second.

“it’s been...a rough month.” he confides, eyes burning with less anger now that he has a distraction. anything is welcomed at this point.

[wysangyun-blog]

wylysander‌:

Lysander can feel his facial features soften at the mere sound of sleepy Sangyuns voice. He couldn’t even imagine what that event that Sangyun went too was like. Lysander himself often went to events but his mere presence was something that they wanted. They wanted the model to sit and look pretty, which wasn’t something he was bad at but it tended to be boring as all hell. 

He snuggled into his blanket closer and softly replied to Sangyun’s question. “Yes I am…” his voice was almost a whine. That’s the power that Sangyun holds and Lysander knows it. He knows it so much. He pursed his lips into a pout and sighed. 

“I’m home, you sound so tired… are you going to go to bed soon?” He asked. 

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ he listens with eyes closed to lysander’s voice, familiar and one that makes him secretly call. a voice he’s heard make every kind of sound, ask for all sorts of things from puppies to hugs to begging. too long he’s been providing materially and in some ways, emotionally for lysander. too long for him not to become at least a little attached. he doesn’t want to admit it but he knows he is.

“i’m not tired.” he’s exhausted actually, but lys doesn’t need to know that part. he pictures his boy laying in bed, warm and relaxed, out of all of his fancy clothes and curled up with a puppy next to him. “i’ll sleep later.” he stands up, stretches out on the phone and his expression is guarded as though the moon above could sense his emotional vulnerability at the moment.

“i’ll stay on the phone with you until you sleep. will you sleep soon for me?” he layers a heavy tone, one he used often to get lysander to squirm, “i need you in well rested, tomorrow morning i’m coming over. i have something for you.” he has to stifle the sound of expectation on his voice, excited to receive lysander’s reaction.

[wysangyun-blog]

wyinsu·:

“Maybe it’s about time you took right back.“ In-su lifts a hand to touch the skin next to the tiger’s mouth, index finger sinking in deep (muscle and bone) before drawing back. Sangyun’s body shifts then, head cocked to get a good look at him and In-su’s fingers twitch with the urge to trace that profile in pencil, to drag charcoal down the slope of Sangyun’s neck on paper, dab red on the tips of his fingers and press them down to smear the line of the man’s mouth.

And, ah. He’s been caught.

“Look at me.“ Shoulders rising to express indifference. It contrasts with the way his words catch and drop, too heavy with sentiment. The way his eyelids slip halfway shut with hooded intent. “Guess you’ll have to make time so I can drop it off.”He hooks both thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, turning to press his back to the railing next to Sangyun, metal digging into the notches of his spine enough to be uncomfortable. It grounds him. The mind plays tricks in the dark, and there’s a ghost of something In-su wants to see in Sangyun’s eyes.

In-su knows about religion. The concept of it, at least. Mostly from art–stained glass saints with pale faces and gold crowns, sinners twisting in the fire. He knows it demands nothing less than uncompromising devotion.

For In-su, as he turns his head away and tips it back at the stars–this man could easily become something close to it–a dogma, twisted and devious to lead him astray.

Sangyun is dangerous.

And In-su is not a soft man. Callouses on his hand and heart, a reluctance to prostrate himself, no matter how hard they push once they get their hands on him. But for Sangyun–there hangs the lingering threat In-su might be willing to bend. Drop to his knees because gods only listen when the faithful are prone, exposed and vulnerable with clasped hands and mouth parted for communion.

“And you’re the busy man here, Sangyun.” He starts rifling for a cigarette. Just something, anything to do with his hands. “I’m flexible. You let me know when you’re open. I’ll make myself fit.”

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ in-su’s words hit right at home and sang-yun laughs quietly. his knuckles are raw from fighting all his life to take what’s his. but, if he’s honest with himself, he’s given just as much. always giving, always giving for free at that. he’s sick of giving in to everyone, playing the fool for people who don’t give a damn. “don’t worry ━ take what i want when i want, did you doubt that for a second?”

in-su is no joke ━ barely in sang-yun’s life long at all and yet he was saying the right things. sang-yun is usually harder to please than this. he takes notice, considers in-su for a second at length, listening to the low words with apt attention. 

one thing is for sure, he certainly is busy these days. his schedule has been more than packed, you’d almost think he was popular. his manager had been fretting over his every move, afraid he’ll tank and ruin things. it’s a fair worry, he has a habit of fucking up, and even if he doesn’t, some of his clients do a good enough job for them both.

“can you fit me in tonight?” he means it exactly the way it sounds, but only partially. testing the waters, maybe. sang-yun should ditch his bad habit of trying to fuck his friends. especially the ones he had to work with. but it was an itch that had developed out of habit, or, more accurately, when kicking the habit. 

meant to help him stop one addiction, became an addiction of it’s own, in ways.

“let’s at least go get the ointment and take care of this tattoo.” he withdraws, not afraid of pushing but wanting to have more fun before he barrels through that wall. “let’s take proper care of your work.”

[wysangyun-blog]

(  ━━ @wywook​ )

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ somewhere along the way, his image had changed and he’d become this kind of person. so long and so many fashion events showing up both as himself, and under disguise. eventually it became something that changed him. sang-yun of the media who was promiscuous, who had match-rigging scandals, who was notorious for being an asshole and was asked scandalous questions when he went on programs because he was too known for being a bad boy.

was it lysander who did it? showing up at events like this that made him seem softer than before? was it presenting himself as a taken man with a stable girlfriend (he laughs at this one when he thinks about it), or was it tied to being sober for so long, could that be why his fans were raving in comments, articles published on his turn about as of late. he even had calls for more program appearances than ever before. it was to the point that his manager decided it was time to change his appearance too; he lifts a bruised hand to sweep it through his blond hair.

he hovers near the outside of the room with his drink, thankful that here, tabloids wouldn’t be bothering him until after the show. fashion isn’t something he particularly cares for but, he’s become comfortable here, somehow. he swirls his drink in the glass and glances around with a guarded gaze. the show would start soon, but he didn’t feel up to taking his seat (too close to the front of the stage). 

downing the rest of his drink he begins to head back to the stable set up at the back of the room, nearly walks straight into someone who had been lingering nearby, just out of his vision. he catches himself, back-steps before he makes a crash landing, a startled grimace on his face before he clears his throat. “sorry,” he’s glad he caught himself, making a scene by ramming into someone and spilling drinks at an event like this, even if it isn’t bad publicity, it’s embarrassing publicity. “i should have been paying more attention.”

[wysangyun-blog]

wyinsu·:

What makes a man?

What the hell would In-su know–spoiled fat all his life by the subdued affections of women, hand fed love from delicate fingers, tame and tender (halmeoni). Absent father, after all. So In-su’s self-taught, all crooked masculinity in painted eyes and metal on his tongue.

What makes a man?

The closest answer In-su’s ever gotten was right there. Bare chested, solid and cold and distant–Sang-yun.

A man’s man–they crooned. Worshiped for that particular brand of broken-bone brutality, a prince of sanctioned violence and In-su himself wasn’t immune to the allure. In a culture notorious for pristine, clean cut lines of behavior–Sang-yun had clawed out a niche for himself. From one pariah to another In-su respected that. And wasn’t it self-indulgent vanity that he savored Sang-yun as a tribute on his chair. Got to bleed, dig metal and stain color on the god of war. In the dark of In-su’s shop, Sang-yun yielded to him.

Who else gets to see you like this?

But their relationship was mostly work, little play, so In-su moved, circled, stopped at Sang-yun’s back to get a look at the tattoo. The  large cat crouched on muscle and sinew, teeth bared over the bone of Sang-yun’s shoulder blades. Still bare lines but already one of his best. The quality of the canvas, perhaps, had something to do with it.

“Everybody’s got to have a piece of you, huh?” In-su’s lips unraveled, crooked up at the corners. The message Sang-yun always pushed was clear–just business, baby. Too bad In-su’s got his own collection of bad habits. Assorted fixations that were serrated sharp and did harm and no damn good, but this–propping men on a pedestal to worship has to be the worst. “It’s nothing. Always out and about in the dark anyway.”

The man was no good. But In-su wanted anyway–validation or heavy handed praise if that’s all he could damn get, sure, why not, yes, please.

“Next time I’ve got you I’ll bring better lotion. Skin’s not soft enough.”

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ the ocean crashes impatiently upon the sandy horizon and sang-yun hopes it’ll keep dancing that way while he and in-su spend their time here tonight. too much has been happening and his brain has been on high power for so long. the salty air and in-su’s presence was enough for now to calm him down, and he didn’t realize how desperately he needed that until it sinks in.

“a piece of me, all of me, whatever they can get,” he throws his shirt over the side-rail of the worn beach side boardwalk, near the washing waves, disregards it entirely while in-su inspects him. the man’s words hit a little too hard, close to one of his most burdening troubles, and he can feel mounting annoyance. “everyone wants something...” he doesn’t realize how bitter it sounds grinding out from between his gritted teeth.

he turns his chin to peer over his shoulder as if he could see his own tattoo, gives up and looks as in-su instead. 

“you called this meeting and you didn’t even come prepared, look at you,” the words loosen up the grit of the ones prior fading back to calm like a newton’s cradle he’s always one tension away from the swing of anger and sarcasm or apathy. he almost grins but his lips can’t lift under the weight of the night, so his eyes do the work instead. 

he wonders sometimes, if people think he’s an asshole just because he struggles to control himself like this so often. always needs to be in control of his sway of emotions, anger, even humor can’t slip past his tight reigns. 

it’s a shame.

“once the line work heals fully, i’ll schedule another appointment,” he takes one look back out over the sea before turning to look at the man before him with a thoughtful gaze. “when can you fit me in?” he asks, and this time, he smirks. he can’t help himself, there’s less humor in it than ever, something mischievous there. “or━ will you keep your schedule open for me?”

[wysangyun-blog]

[open+]

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━   halloween decorations lined the streets and in the night like it is, it’s almost beautiful, but he can’t take the time to appreciate it. his eyes are a dark pool as he strolls the streets, barely taking a second to notice the world around him. he didn’t care that his white undershirt was smeared with blood from his split knuckles, having taken relentlessly to the punching bag without protection after losing his match earlier that day. his eyes are rimmed in red, jaw jumping as he grits his teeth and kids stare when they see him like he’s the one in a costume. but it’s not yet halloween, too early for costumes, and he just looks out of place. losing a televised match for the world to see really takes a lot out on a man with as much pride as he has. he hadn’t been paying a bit of attention, quietly seething━ he hadn’t meant to bump into anyone there on the streets, certainly not looking the way he did. his knuckles burn and his mind is static when he looks at the person before him; they’d collided at the crossing sign, the hand signaling it wasn’t yet safe, and sang-yun can’t just run away from his one. “sorry,” he murmurs, his voice a scratch of raw emotion, lifting a scabbed, bruised hand to run through his blond hair to stain it red. “wasn’t looking...” he mutters the excuse tiredly.    

[wysangyun-blog]

muse notice!! (ooc)

: from today, sangyun has changed his hair color from black to honey blond ! ♥

[wysangyun-blog]

[wysangyun-blog]

[wysangyun-blog]

wyinsu‌:

@wysangyun​

There was a bar In-su preferred close to the beach–a dilapidated tourist trap of a shack, neon palm trees flickering through the windows, speakers cracking on the louder notes but the drinks were strong. Cheap, too–if you cosied up to the owner enough. It was nearing midnight so the place was packed. Too warm. And In-su threw his head back and downed his friend’s rum and coke in one go before lifting two fingers to excuse himself for some fresh air.

The breeze hit him as soon as he stepped outside–salty and almost too cold on the sweat of his brow, neck, and the damp skin of his sternum. And as he wandered down to the beach In-su paused a moment to toe off his shoes, letting them dangle off his fingers as he stepped off the asphalt and onto the sand, ambling over to the ocean.

Someone else was already here. And as In-su let his gaze catch on that profile, those solid shoulders, his pace slowed in recognition, before picking up speed.

“Hey.” He was close enough to touch. But In-su restrained himself, dropping his shoes and slotting both hands into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t trust Sangyun not to snap out in surprise (wild animal instinct). “Let me see it.” The sand was damp here, and he dug his toes in. “The tattoo. Gotta make sure you’re taking care of it.”

He looked at Sangyun then. And In-su preferred the ocean (and Sangyun) like this. During the day it was too bright and vivid, flaws conspicuous in the stark lighting that reflected off white sand and into his eyes. In the dark he could really look and blame it on compromised vision.

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ the night sky seemed hot, hazy and low tonight as sang-yun sighed up at it. a long week was barely getting any more tolerable, but it had been some time since he’d visited the beach, and surprisingly, it was managing to bring up his mood.

luckily, in-su didn’t ask him to meet in that bar or else, sang-yun might just have turned down the meeting chance entirely. no friends are worth going through crowds and loud music, fans recognizing him and asking for an autograph, strangers trying to get into his pants when they see the fuss he causes. he’s not exactly a superstar, he’s no seo serah, but he’s noticeable and known enough for it to become annoying. if one more person attempted to assert themselves in his personal space this week he might lose his cool.

his thoughts firmly fizzle into nonexistence when in-su arrives, sang-yun sees the man in his peripherals and turns just as he hears the voice, ”hey,” he says back, the sound slipping from his lips lazily, a casual tone that he’d managed to develop with in-su only recently. they hadn’t known each other long enough for sang-yun to entirely relax, but he admits to himself that in-su isn’t so bad.

it’s certainly phrased as a command not a question, a smooth zap against sang-yun’s naturally resistant nature, but he calms at the follow up, a nod as he appreciates the professionalism. crossing his arms to peel his shirt over his head, exposing bare torso to the late night air, warm and salty. the large intricate tiger design rearing up over the planes of his back (only last sitting had they finished the lines and some of the blocking). It still feels tender and tight, skin tightening as it prepares the final stages of healing.

”thanks,” he says, belatedly as he stares out across the water, not bothering to look back at whereever he’s sure in-su is approaching from to inspect his bare skin. it doesn’t occur to him that it might be odd to suddenly say, so he follows it up quietly, ”for meeting me like this. by the way. my schedule is busy this week.”

sang-yun decides he likes his new tattoo artist.

[wysangyun-blog]

wyhaeun·:

☽ :    ›  It’s too pernicious. He’s too cruel ⇢She grips cloth between knuckles and palms with an anger so pent and unprocessed it threatens to explode outward like a a geyser. The sensitivity she felt moments before vanished at his words, erased with the harshness of a chemical burn ›› In it’s place an ugly, corroded scowl.           ‘You…’ she spits, ‘you’re so full of shit,” she takes a step closer for the one he takes back, unwilling or maybe just unable, to surrender ground to him. Like a predator, she has to keep on her toes. He’s not frightening any longer. the once famed dragon of the ring, fearsome and unstable, always the at the edge of every defamation, wrought iron poke to stoke the fire of his image and his ego.        These are no longer the days she fears 𝐆𝐲𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐮𝐧. Not what he can do to others, not what he would do to her. Not a singular thing she’s incapable of inflict upon herself, with more stringency, at that ━ › he’s proven time and again he won’t do a thing do anyone but himself, if she’s come to dig up enough details about him with any accuracy.        ‘Running around with that witch doesn’t make you invulnerable. And,’ she swallows down instinctual dread that almost softens her keen-edged anger from knife into a blunt, wavering end. ‘Where do you get off talking to me like that, Sang yun? As usual you’re too cruel.’ Her gaze flickers, a cat’s eye shining beneath moonlight, ‘You’re the one who closed the door on those days, did you forget? ━Oh, you’re an excuse alright,’ her chest aches, pinching like a clothes pin holding a thin sheet to a wire. The wind that skirts through the alley cuts right through her, threatens to knock her back like a rag doll, his gaze like the hateful rays of the sun to a nocturnal beast. ‘Just like back then, you won’t even be kind when I beg.’          How could she ever expect any less of him? After all, if she was relentless like a dessert, he was inhospitable››› there’s no life for her on his planet, no room to breathe, not even to survive for a mere second before he suffocates her with his dogma. Her and any other shred of benevolence she could carry in his regards.       As always, he cuts to the quick of her, refuses to accept what anyone else greedily might. Not even when she threw her heart at him, mangled, beating, ripped from her chest did he take it. She’s judged him wrong all those years ago, and now again, it seems. Gyu Sang yun, despite it all, is still just as frustratingly ethical. She sneers at the thought, it hurts too much to acknowledge.

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ there were times in his past that he felt sorry for ha-eun. all the things she’d been through and the hard times she’d been through brought a stitch to his heart, and he wanted more than anything to see her comfortable and happy. she’d become someone he treasured, a true friend, if he was honest with himself.

but then, as always with her, she did these things that did everything to slam the door on all the progress. on herself. he doesn’t know why, but it’s almost like she’s a sucker for pain. afraid to be alone but too angry to be close. and he used to think he was the angry one. (compared to her, his anger might be a mere simmer.)

she should have never came to him with her lies. things would be different now if she could have kept things clean and neat. and really, he had never meant to break her heart, even if he broke it in a different way than she likes to claim he did. (and they both know it, that’s the sad part.)

but he wouldn’t lie, not for her or anyone else. everyone can fuck off with their stupid requests, sang-yun is sick of lying, taking peoples problems onto himself, doing peoples bidding, being burdened. even back then he was.

“let’s get one thing straight, ‘ha-ha,” when she stepped closer he didn’t flinch, but now that the seconds tick on it once again becomes too much, so he removes himself again (2 steps back this time), “leave nikita’s name out of your mouth in front of me or i’ll stop being patient with you. i’ll really forget we’re friends this time, if you keep at it.”

the words spell trouble and he knows it but, they’ve both been here too many times to tip toe around like children.

“if that’s true, stop begging,” he shakes his head, “save us both the time. be a big girl and stop acting like this.” he sighs, looking into her gleaming eyes, “find a way to love yourself before you claim you love someone else. and stop bringing me your problems. you’re so hard to be around when you act like this.”

cruel to be kind.

[wysangyun-blog]

wysyijun‌:

@wysangyun

𝐘𝐈𝐉𝐔𝐍 𝐬𝐚𝐭 down, as Kyungmin left him alone to call Sangyun. The boss had told him to contact him, as that young man wanted some easy money, but the boss didn’t think he was fit to work in the brothel. “Sangyun-ssi ? The boss has someone for you” he said during the call “A guy who want to work, but the boss doesn’t think he’d work as a prostitute. He said he’s too innocent or something like that, so he asked to call you instead” Kyungmin explained. While Sangyun was getting called, Yijun was waiting, uncomfortable. The atmosphere, the faint sounds… How did he think he could work in a place like that, really ?!

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━   he drives, grip on the wheel loose and a thoughtful frown. it’s interesting that his brother would send him another after so long, and this time... too innocent? when’s the last time his brother sent him someone like that? usually it was lost boys, any manner of person who seemed impressionable. it wasn’t exactly ethical, but then again his brother wasn’t either.

was sangyun ethical? sometimes he thought, a resounding no. but there was nothing he could do about that.  ━ he pulls up to the brothel, long ago since he last found himself here, and let’s himself in with an eyebrow raise at the muscle he sees placed here and there (jin’s men, brainless but even they have enough thought not to question him.) headed through and into the back, he pries open the door without so much as a knock, entering with a hand in his pocket and the other on the doorknob. he stands there, holding the door open and a stern expression, nodding a sharp gesture towards the hall, “out, i’ll handle it,” he kyungmin, a seriousness on his face and he waits quietly until the man bows and leaves.

he shuts the door behind him with a click and turns to face the man seated stiffly across the room. first assessment seems like it was correct; the man does seem innocent, something about him seems reliable but definitely not the type to be mixed up with a man like his brother, or the dragons for that matter, sangyun leans against the brick wall next to the door and crosses his arms over his chest. he should have worn a suit, he’s sure his intimidation factor is lessened by his saggy t-shirt with the peeling letters. “how old are you, what’s your name, and are you a cat or a dog person?” try as he might he can’t keep a corner of his lips from lifting into a crooked smirk.

[wysangyun-blog]

wylysander‌:

( @wysangyun  )

Lysander was a brat and from the very beginning he has been so.  He’s always been an attention seeking individual and with his current sugar daddy’ing habits that wasn’t going to change any time soon. Lysander was needy much like a newborn puppy who demanded attention, Lysander demanded the spotlight of certain people. He wanted it all, tied up in a nice bow, a present just for him. 

So whenever Sangyun was away for any kind of event, he grew lonely quite quickly. The walls seemed to close in on him as he waited for any sign of Sangyun being alone. Lysander knew why he couldn’t come to these events with Sangyun even if he really really wanted too. Lysander was prepared for these events himself, he had done many in the past. But he purses his lips and frowns looking at his phone clock. 

He should be done by now… Lysander thinks regarding the late hour. He plops himself on the bed. Lys wraps the blanket around him and dials Sangyun’s number, waiting. 

“ Are you done with the event ? “ He asks softly as the other picks up. A smile works its way into his features slowly, even if the other hasn’t spoken yet. 

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━  sang-yun had never been more excited to fall into the open arms of a hotel room than he was this night. nikita was, god knows where, after a long afternoon of her clinging to his arm, pressing against him with fervor, denying anyone a mere presence near him that wasn’t only after acknowledging her presence, he was glad to have the space. he appreciated her for what she was and what she did, she had become a friend even, someone he trusted and knew wouldn’t let him down (at least, not when it came to this kind of thing) but he grew tired of human’s.

there was only one human being he wanted anything to do with at the moment, one so far away he didn’t want to add the numbers. why did he miss that brat so much? when they were supposed to be merely partners, in a way. Just like he and nikita. but nikita could never make him feel the way lysander did.

his phone buzzes and he peers around, check that he’s alone, before he answers it. doesn’t need to look to know who it is. leaning his forearms over the balcony railing as he gazes out at the water beyond the dam, moon casting a reflection in it’s surface.

“i’m done.” he confirms, a small grin touching his features at the sound of the other’s warm voice. “lonely?” it’s too obviously the case; he leans down, rests his forehead on his forearms and closes his eyes as he speaks, “are you home?”

[wysangyun-blog]

｀、ヽ｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ ━━ ( @wysunghyun ) ━━ if there’s a thing in this world he can never be without, it’s sung-hyun. not their ancestors, their mother and father, extended family, not the dragons even though sung-hyun might not agree with that one ━ none of them matter but his brother. his twin was always there, a puzzle piece or one half of his heart. no matter how bad things get or what happens, he can count on his brother, through it all. his brother is the one thing that never fails or falls through. he gives his brother a look, lifting the bottle of soju and pouring a glass out for both of them, “to you. for always having my back,” he says, doesn’t curse their ancestors or what’s left of their scattered family. for sang-yun, chuseok isn’t about them, it’s about right here, right now, celebrating his brother’s good health.