There Wont Be Any Rush. I Think I Might Reconsider The Importance And Urgency Of My Plans For A Little

“There won’t be any rush. I think I might reconsider the importance and urgency of my plans for a little while now that I’ve refocused on what really matters.” San looked up at the cloudy sky; the stars were never visible from here.

i did a headstand to feel normal about this. my favorite part.

as a theatre musical kid who was always was attached to the screen since childhood, i think im keeping this mc close to my heart. i have never seen a character wanting to be a musical actor like my heart blossomed. althought reader became an actor ITS THE DREAM THAT COUNTS I FELT RECOGNISED AAAAA ☹️❤️‍🩹

i absolutely and wholly loved the character development. the little moments when his generosity and gentleness actually was a whiplash to the reader. san is just so lovable and so so so homely i almost shed a tear AAAA they're too adorable i was literally like this

& action! (oneshot) mature!

✧ afab!reader x choi san ✧ reader is an unknown actress & san is a popular actor ✧genre: non-idol, show business, strangers, from dislike to interest ✧ word count: 8k ✧ warnings: san’s an asshole in the beginning, rude comments, insecurities, deep kiss with tongue and teeth but it's short, she/her for mc, nickname "pretty girl", mdni!

after countless boring little acting roles, you are finally cast as the female lead for an upcoming streaming series. everything would be perfect, if not for learning that the male lead is none other than choi san, highly praised for his skills but known to harshly criticize and even look down on his female co-stars.

a/n: this oneshot taught me i am not good at writing mean san. i wrote this 2 weeks ago but i didn't like it. now ended up editing the parts i was iffy about. it's a cliche plot of the mean guy going soft for you. i hope it still might be a fun read 🫶 this was inspired by a ranking of "top worst k-drama actors behind the scenes". there are no suggestive scenes but since there's rude talking, i will consider it mature, so mdni

As a child, you dreamed of becoming a musical artist, standing on stage and singing beautiful songs that made others cry. But reality was always by your side. Your family made just enough to give you a decent, average life, something you were thankful for, and you never blamed them for being unable to afford vocal lessons. Instead, you joined your school’s theatre group, went to college, and started affordable acting lessons in between several part-time jobs to pay for a dream that kept changing. Maybe you couldn’t perform the way you wanted, but there could still be a way to be out there. It was a fool’s dream, but some of you thought maybe if you just became a successful actress, you could chase your original wish when money was less of a problem and names opened doors.

Of course, you knew it was just as foolish, with hundreds of thousands of desperate souls trying to become the next big name in the acting industry. Your family wasn’t fond of it, but after receiving the long-desired college major for marketing, they gave their blessing, and you were lucky. A small agency was looking for what they called ‘fresh faces, raw and with unique talents.’ You had low expectations when you auditioned because your special skill was singing, but it seemed your dream was still there. The casting manager was in tears when you finished one of your favorite musical songs. A magical moment.

One that was over by the time you signed your contract and faced reality. You were a nobody, and the tiny roles you got weren’t enough to pay the bills. You started working part-time in a higher-class clothing store with brand names every child knew and you likely would never be able to afford if your streak of poor roles continued.

Two years of playing background store visitor, neighbor’s girl, the average student thirsting over the main lead for three seconds never to be seen again, and your biggest hit so far: the quick flirt of a vet who was weak for you before shaking his head remembering the female lead.

There was no doubt, you slowly questioned your own intelligence because why were you doing this? Years after graduation and in an office, as boring as it would be, you already could lead a decent life with a larger apartment that wasn’t smaller than your college dorm and wearing your hair however you wanted.

So what changed? The popular actor who played the vet invited you and five other actors to join a TikTok dance challenge and for some reason, it went viral because people asked who this girl was who pouted so cutely. And when they started to research you, seeing that you were hard-working rather than a foolish girl thinking beauty alone carried it, you were supported rather than a meme.

It all could be so perfect if not…

“You know, I have never seen anyone as dejected about being cast as the main female lead in one of the biggest productions of popular streaming platforms as you. You went from being ignored for too long to getting one of the best big debuts. I mean it, the plot of this is decent, you won’t just play some poor and confused girl who meets the rich lead.”

Yeosang was both a curse and a blessing. He was one of your agency’s managers and in charge of you for years, often complaining how the agency did not give you the role castings they should in favor of their bigger names when he saw the potential in you. Maybe it seemed odd to some, but the former child model had a good understanding of the industry, and you always appreciated his insights and advice. He had come to prefer being behind the stage rather than in the spot light.

On the other hand, Yeosang was awfully honest, sometimes a little too much when you just wanted to sulk while being driven to the table read in the fanciest car they had given you so far.

“It’s because of the male lead,” you muttered, and Yeosang frowned.

There had been a very short-notice casting change of the main lead, and you went from absolute excitement about a well-respected and liked name in the industry to pure horror. Choi San likely had one of the most dedicated fan bases out there, but among actors, it was no secret that he wasn’t shy to speak his opinion. No, there even was an incident where he managed to convince the production company to switch the female lead in the middle, and they had to start over. The writers wanted somebody more classy on the cast, and thus, you only learned about it yesterday.

“You have heard all those stories. He calls you out if you do not live up to his expectations, he will call you out and make the entire filming process a nightmare. It will be the worst three months of my life.”

If you messed this up, that would be it — no second chances for female leads who did not win over the viewers.

It was worse because there was also a rather intimidating scene where they would get close after some incident, and he would make her feel a certain way, lots of kissing and partly undressing. They promisedit was very professionally but … How were you meant to film something like that with a man who would look down at you?

Yeosang snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you blushed.

“Y/N, breathe! Let’s wait and see how it goes. I am sure the casting director considered that or else, as harsh as it is, they also would have replaced you. Being a new name for the larger audience, it would not have been a big deal for them.”

Maybe his honesty was good after all.

“You are right, sorry. Ignore it, I guess I am just nervous.”

Yeosang squeezed your hand. “And that is fine, this is your big chance, and I know you will give it your all.”

You didn’t expect just how many people would be there for the first official reading. While you had already received the script, considering filming was about to start in less than a week, it surprised you how not only the main cast was there but also the makeup team, stylists, and a few people you didn’t know but assumed were in charge of the infamous indirect sponsoring of brands who likely decided if they were interested in wasting money on you.

The story was mostly told from your character’s perspective and suddenly, you understood why they spent an hour on your makeup: fresh but natural, your hair braided over your shoulder, and a casual outfit of jeans, a tank top, and a denim jacket, giving you a confident but youthful look. If they looked at you today and decided you did not live up to their brand’s expectations, that was it for them.

A particular male lead, on the other hand, did not have to try; he looked like a god even without any makeup. Jeans and an oversized white shirt, slightly open to reveal some of his chest, with glasses that made him look elegant, and hair styled back.

The moment Yeosang and you entered, all attention was on you. You smiled politely, as you always did, advised not to act any different from the much more casual and small readings the ‘npc of the acting industry’ usually received.

“Miss Y/N, I am very excited to see you,” said Mister Nam, the leading producer, whom you had already met during the casting process.

You accepted his hand and bowed: “It is nice to meet you again, Sir. I am very much looking forward to working with you.” And like that, you went through a row of people to greet, bow, and thank, even though you had no idea who they were. It was the manners; you were a nobody among somebodies.

The faces you paid extra attention to were Seonghwa, the leading makeup artist for not only the production but also the promotions that would follow, and Hongjoong, the lead stylist. They seemed kind, curious, and outgoing.

Then finally, the one you did not want to see but were meant to pretend to wildly fall in love with for the following three months.

“Mister Choi,” you bowed politely. He was a senior of yours and likely expected the usual treatment. As you looked up, you caught him staring, quite openly, as if making a judgment about whether you suited his aesthetic.

Officially, all those shows were from the female lead’s perspective, but they really just served as self-inserts for the mainly female viewer base who fell hard for the handsome man. There was a small grin on his lips, but he did not even waste a breath to greet you, like he decided in that moment to test your limits.

You managed to keep it together and sat down next to him. The reading was long and unnecessary, mainly the producer talking, with several inside jokes in favor of your co-actor and details already known to those involved. It was almost at the end when everyone was supposed to go and take photos for the press announcement, and they looked at you.

“We do have a small unexpected moment planned, one that actually isn’t in the official script yet but when I found out I could not resist. Miss Y/N is a very talented singer.”

Oh no.

“So we added a scene. We currently have a well-known songwriter producing a few lines for us, and the song will bring some tears.”

“Aren’t we all looking forward to that?” San added lightheartedly, likely noticing how you grabbed your jacket under the table a little tighter. They all laughed.

With that, everyone left the room except you and your male lead, as it was tradition to give the two of you a few minutes to get to know each other. While you were trying to find anything kind to say, this asshole did not even bother. Instead, he leaned closer.

“Listen, pretty girl. I have worked with your kind before. You were lucky and somehow caught the interest of a producer without any real passion, skill, or will to go through this properly. This show will be my last one before I go abroad; I cannot let it flop because you think your face does the job.”

He tilted his way to show you how unimpressed he seemed of you up to this point.

“You better not waste my time. I give you one day. If your acting is shit, you are out. Do you get it? While he is charmed by you, I have worked with Nam before and his moods change like the weather. A good friend of mine would suit this role perfectly, and she and I share great chemistry. She’s just one call away.”

You wished he would just intimidate you to the point where you were scared, but somehow, something in your mind decided to be insane instead.

You spat in his expensive-looking clothes, leading him to yelp and withdraw.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” he cursed.

In your mind, this was it. You just ended your very fragile career, but you were too terrified to act shy now. You had walked into the fire; now you couldn’t hope somebody would save you, so all you could do was… act.

“Talk to me like that again, and I will sue the hell out of you,” you replied, with no lack of hesitation in your voice, perfectly hiding how you wanted to scream or slap yourself.

It was unfair how he could be like that just because he had major successful roles in the past few years.

With that, you grabbed your phone and walked out of the room. Yeosang seemed surprised that you were so quick to return. He expected the two of you would have a proper conversation, as the chemistry was important, but you told yourself you’d just see if you really were cut out for this by faking chemistry that certainly was not there.

“Do I want to know?” he asked, brows furrowed when you shook your head eagerly, leaving.

“I can’t believe she just spat at me,” San replied, sighing at his friend who was slowly fixing his makeup.

“To be honest, I’d probably have done about the same, you know? Why do you always have to be such an asshole? Once upon a time, you were a nobody. I remember your first role, the son of the teacher. You were so adorable, struggling to catch any role until you decided to bulk up a few years ago. Now, you steal the dreams of women and men alike.”

The taller one only leaned back once he was satisfied with the natural makeup again, just gaining a stare from the actor.

“Yes, exactly. People pointed fingers at me, so I proved them wrong by working hard, changing myself, and then actively going for roles. I got cast for my looks AND my skills. Those female leads they give me, they chose them because they are pretty, or ended up going viral for some nonsense not because they enjoy the craft.”

Seonghwa sighed as he slowly stood up: “Sannie, you are far too hard. You know, just because somebody took longer than you and received fewer roles does not mean they did not try.”

Of course, he knew as much, but there just was no way around it. If this drama would be a success, he’d finally be able to leave this market and branch out. San wanted to be remembered as an actor, not the face of some k-dramas of the early 2020s.

“At least, give her a chance. That would be fair, yeah? If she really is such a poor actress as you seem to want to believe so desperately, then I will not be in your way. But should she show to have actual passion and talent, I’ll be in your way, handsome.”

San just watched as the makeup artist walked out, and he looked in the mirror again. He looked great; that was what they all told him. But sometimes, he felt like the look and the roles he often was given — the cold and rich asshole who only warmed up in the last part of the series —somehow it seemed to start swallowing up the one who was once Choi San, the one who dreamed of walking on international carpets.

Such a silly dream.

“Tsk, she will be thankful. I will be a much kinder way out of this before she wastes all her youth only to learn that she is just one of those many stupid people thinking they wanted to be on a screen.”

You looked in the mirror. This was not how you imagined the first day of recording to go. It was natural not to start with the first episode, but the idea to film a major scene as the very first seemed insane.

At least, for two actors who had never worked together before.

Maybe this was the point? Did damn Choi ask that they do this so they could kick you out because there was no way you could play the dreaded separation of the lead characters as your first time with this man?

The makeup was fantastic. You looked like you had cried for days, but your natural beauty was still there, your hair far too pretty for someone who had run through a rainstorm to speak to the one she loved, begging him not to just leave.

“You are beautiful and stubborn. This is more fire than I have seen in any rookie in a while,” Seonghwa hummed, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulders. Somehow, you started to wonder if he knew what happened the other day.

“Your makeup is stunning. I will give my best,” you promised and watched him give you a playful wink. Your outfit took another half an hour, and you prayed quietly not to get sick because, unlike San who looked like he just walked out of a magazine, your character was supposed to be soaked in rain water. At least that scene would be shot on another day and location.

As you were positioned, you had to wait for a few minutes before San finally appeared. As it was a tradition in dramas, later on, when the male character softened up, it was shown in his hair being less bothered by products, and you could not deny, if not for knowing how he was, you’d think of him as cute.

“Everyone ready? Good, we are starting in five!” The entire set was moving in one big crowd, and you took a deep breath in, exhaling as you looked up.

It was like you were looking at another man.

San’s eyes were so soft, it almost broke your heart, and you had to remind yourself you were shooting a scene. Fuck, he really was worth that damn money, wasn’t he?

“Summer,” his warm hands cupped your cheeks, and maybe it was good how this surprised you, how different this version of that rude guy was was because it was exactly the way the scene was meant to be.

“You are so foolish. Look at you,” he whispered, his big hand brushed over your cheek, and he looked up and down, taking in your appearance. “To run all the way through the rain, what if you get sick? Silly girl, you always get cold so quickly,” his voice was so soft, you could feel the emotion, the worry he put into every word.

“I am scared,” you whispered when you felt his thumb brush over your chin, and you tried to make sure not to fuck up the pace of the scene.

“You were just going to leave by telling your sister to let me know I’d not have to worry anymore. How am I not to worry? You are gone, it’s worse than what happens if we push on… with this. I need to do this with you. Please…”

You thought about how badly you needed this acting role to work. This was your last chance before you likely really had to give up because you were almost in your mid-20s now, and soon roles would get even tougher without a name and fame.

So you begged, and for a moment, there was something hinted behind his eyes like he was actually touched.

You likely just really were going crazy because of how impressed you were about it. Seeing it in person and working with this was different.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he whispered. The camera was zooming in. You started to cry, just as scripted, grabbing his shirt.

“This isn’t yours alone to decide,” you tried to push more energy in because in theory, you were meant to do just that, give him a desperate shove but San’s weight was shifting forward, making it impossible. You were slender compared to him.

“I am sorry.” he breathed.

And then Choi San acted entirely out of script. You were meant to rest your foreheads together, embraced in a deep hug before the scene would zoom out. Instead, he kissed you. The surprise in your face was anything but fake, how your body just sank against his because the arm around your waist tightened, and the way the set fell utterly silent except for the fake rain.

Oh no, he wouldn’t get you with this!

Your arm finally reached out, curling around his neck, and you kissed him back like your life depended on it.

Because it did.

Maybe all of those feelings did lead to helping with this because you needed him to be accepting of you as much as you hated it.

When the director cheered and everyone clapped because the scene was so much better with this unplanned kiss, you could only hear him whisper.

“Come, see me later. I will leave the address in your dressing room,” he removed himself, smiling and walking off with his stylist. This was the only shared scene for the day. All you could do was stare and wonder.

You cursed when you found yourself touching your lip, the sensation of kissing him still on your lips.

San found himself looking at his own reflection in the mirror. You seemed to be quite weak for his natural hair, which was amusing. Every time he went anywhere, whether for a personal event or a public appearance, people always asked him to style it back. Maybe it was because it gave him that particular mature and handsome vibe they all liked, sparking their imaginations. Yet here he was, keeping it down.

He paid great attention to detail. The suit pants went perfectly with matching shoes, but the tight, long black sleeve shirt accentuated every muscle underneath the fabric, giving plenty to look at.

San made a decision. He was simply going to mold you the way he needed you for this to be a success. After the little shot earlier today, he started to have an idea of how this arrangement might work. He’d still rather have worked with someone he knew, but there were worse options, and he had to admit, there was no denying you were pretty to look at.

The address he invited you to was one of his label’s many seminar apartments, a place for their top actors to work with whatever coach they desired. With you still being no big name in the industry, nobody would pay you any mind for showing up here, and he trusted you enough to be somewhat discreet.

He poured two glasses of an alcohol-free drink and looked at the clock. A small frown appeared; San didn’t like the possibility that you might not show up. Why would you reject a private invitation from him? He looked at his watch again, twenty minutes over the time.

“Don’t tell me she’s still trying to make a point? She really doesn’t understand when it’s just a little better to swallow her foolish pride.”

If he was honest, turned tables, he'd probably have done the same...

As he hissed, there was a small peeping sound coming from the door, he had given you the code to enter. San turned around, his head tilting slowly as he watched you enter the loft.

Your hair was down, flowing over your shoulders, likely to deal with all the water styling for your shoot today. This was the first time he saw you wearing a dress, and it suited you well, especially as the neutral makeup highlighted your natural beauty, complemented with the soft green color of the dress.

He couldn’t deny that the little angry frown on your features was endearing.

“What’s this all about? It’s highly unprofessional for the two lead actors of a drama to meet like this. Yes, I still came because …” you paused, seemingly trying to come up with a good defense, but was there one?

“I … don’t care. I just wanted to tell you that. I do not care if you deem me unfit to be an actress. We get told that all the time. This is harder for us than for you. We aren’t allowed to make mistakes; your type, on the other hand, gets away with most.”

San hummed as he listened to you, picking up the two glasses and offering one to you. “Alcohol-free. Now, why don’t we sit down and chat? I agree with you, it’s unprofessional and risky, but I do it for the success of the show if you want.”

There was confusion on your face when you still accepted the glass and watched San sit down.

“After today, I am willing to admit, I see potential in you, maybe even a hint of talent if polished properly,” he hummed, taking a sip from his drink, and pointing to the couch opposite for you to sit down.

He enjoyed all of your reactions, wondering if you were aware just how expressive you were with them.

“I don’t understand…”

Finally, you started to listen and joined him.

“Your character, Summer, she’s all about being relatable and raw. You can capture this perfectly, and your way of showing emotions — not many actors have that these days. However, you need to learn to control them, for them to come out when you need it, not when they want to.”

It seemed you took a sip from the drink just to deal with your confusion. You swallowed while San placed his glass on the table.

“How do you mean that?”

Now, he had no intention of suddenly being all kind and polite. Truths were there to cut so you learned not to do it again.

“You are like a puppy that learned to roll over and play dead, but you’re still wiggling your tail out of control so everyone knows. You need to learn to use your skill of expressing emotions so openly to your advantage, when you want it, and not because you are reacting to your co-actor. You were almost melting when we kissed.”

Your cheeks took on a dark red shade not even the makeup could hide, and San just grinned almost sweetly at you.

“Do you ever say anything nice?”

“I just did. I told you that you have potential and I invited you here. You asked me to give you a chance, your way, and I am willing. I believe if you learn how to guide your talent a little, we can benefit. The viewers have a much easier time connecting with an actress who seems to feel like that, and I need the good views. I will help you be a bit more in control. In two days, we will shoot the scene that likely will go viral if we do it right and decide if the viewers ship us, our chemistry.”

It was meant to be THE kissing scene, the one they would use for the preview and trailers, to convince everyone of their great chemistry, and their characters were meant to be lovers, not seeming lost and confused unlike in the scene today.

“The kiss was promising today, but in that scene, we will actually have to make sure we capture the chemistry on point. No emotional moment occurred to explain why it would be different I will show you how to do it, so that when we shoot it, all will be quick and easy.”

San finally settled down by your side, and he could see how you just stared at him.

“I ask kindly for your permission so that you do not spit at me again,” he chuckled but leaned in close, ensuring you could feel his breath tickling your skin.

“Y/N, would you let me teach you how to play that scene perfectly, so that people may adore us when the episode airs?”

“Fine.”

He was still rude, but the truth was you had come here hoping that maybe the two of you could find a middle ground. San did not need to madly fall in love with you; all you were asking for was a chance. Yes, you knew what you were doing was a little below the belt, but show business had never been easy.

Besides, he was not forcing you. Here he was, asking, and maybe, in a way, you both depended on it.

San still seemed too pleased, but he was relaxing back, giving you another look: “I take it you have studied the scene already. The benefit of us speaking ahead of the record is we can see to adjust it our way. Take it as advice for the future; you are the actor, and you can act in a way that makes those scenes a little more endurable.”

He reached out and played with a few strands of your hair. Maybe this would be a good idea; if you got comfortable with him, acting in those love scenes you were soon going to film could be easier, and you would no longer have to overthink if he was going to trick you.

“Episode five, after Baek and Summer go to the auction to save his mother’s necklace from being sold off, they return to her place. It’s before he intends to run away, so the atmosphere is playful and sensual. Baek admires her beauty from afar before slowly moving over. He places the necklace around her neck, his finger playing with it, and then he loosens her hair, and they kiss, tongue and biting."

Any time San was surprised, you felt a level of satisfaction that you managed to do just that, but quickly, it turned into a pleased smile.

“That’s exactly it. I see you memorized it. The scene is early on, and if we manage to carry over the chemistry there, the heartbreak later will be efficient. Good for us; your outfit is perfect. You just have to tie up your hair, and we can move over to the door and begin right at the start. It will help us if we play through the entire scene. We go through it, but any time you feel uncomfortable, voice it. We can practice and cheat with the perspective, so the kiss is not too awkward but satisfying to the producers.”

You slowly rose, fixed your dress, and cleared your throat as you tied up your hair loosely while walking over to the door. San was right there, relaxing against the door, grinning at you: “Are you ready, pretty girl?”

Really? You hissed a little: “What’s up with the name? Can people not come up with better insults?”

San hummed, shrugging a little: “Not an insult. You are that, a pretty girl. What’s wrong with it? I mean it, but if you want to strictly keep it professional, think of it as a way to warm up. The characters return from the auction, they managed to reach their goal, and now, in a mood of celebration, a couple all comfortable and confident. We have to get in the mood.”

That was fair, so you grinned: “All right then, hottie. Shall we get going?” He wasn’t annoyed at all, more pleased that you got the point, or so you guessed.

You walked to the door, taking his hand as San seemed to inhale before just falling into the role. It was like there was a switch, leaving his personality behind and becoming his character entirely.

“I can’t believe we really did it, seeing their faces when you just jumped up and then did the final bid the second it was about to end,” San sighed in relief as he turned around and looked at you.

It was silly, you looked at him, and your heart was beating a little; this was the most passion you had worked with yet. Not that the other actors had been poor at their jobs, but it felt more routine, like they just got it done because it was written in the script.

You smirked: “Of course, I told you. Never underestimate my talent! I knew they would not see that one coming, but now it’s done. I am glad we were able to get the necklace back. I know how much it means to you.”

Your arms curled around his neck, and you went on your toes to get closer to his face. San’s eyes wandered all over your face like you were the most beautiful person he had ever encountered.

“That is because you truly are the most amazing person I have ever met, Summer,” he whispered and allowed one of his hands to wander up, placing it very gently underneath your chin. Your gazes locked for some time.

“Stay the night?” you whispered, your tone more playful now. Slowly, you let go of him, turning around playfully, giving him an inviting look as you settled down on the couch. Right, Summer was about to take out her earrings. You did not wear any, but you wore some hair clips, so you gently removed them, placing them on the table.

San was watching you, leaning against a door. The two of you did everything extra slow since shooting a scene meant you did it more than once quite often if the camera needed a different perspective and did not always capture it right away on the first try.

As he moved slowly to you, your gaze lowered a little, and he sat down next to you.

“You are starring, Sir,” you teased. This actually wasn’t part of your dialogue, but somehow, it felt natural. Your character was supposed to be a little all over the place but not shy, at least not in this scene. If San was permitted to add as he wished, why not you?

“What can I do? It’s hard not to look at you,” he smiled softly and reached out, brushing over your chin before his gaze lowered, resting on your neck.

San seemed to think for a moment before he slowly leaned back. The moment when Baek would take out the box with the necklace, your co-star replaced it by unclipping the one he had been wearing underneath his tight long sleeve.

“And maybe that is because seeing you in this really is a dream come true,” he whispered, and as he leaned in, you felt his breath tickling your skin, the scent of a perfume you had never smelled before. He gently placed it around your neck. In the show, this would be some kind of elegant piece, but San had given you something long with a metal tag on the end.

Curiosity was fought back to look at it. Your fingers only touched the cool metal chain around your neck.

“But… this is your mother’s. You should keep it…” you tried to insist, but San moved closer.

“My mom wanted it to be on the neck of my future wife, and while we are both too young to think about it just yet, it is right where it belongs, Y/N,” he was so close now that you naturally leaned slightly closer.

The fact he called you by your name was surprising, and there it was again, the moment he did it on purpose. Was it to teach you the lesson of trying to control your emotions rather than being controlled by them or something else?

“I love you, Y/N,” San said so passionately that you needed to swallow hard. It was good that from this point on, the scene was only meant to be carried by acting and no further words.

His big hand moved and pulled the hairband out, allowing your hair to fall over your shoulder.

“You truly are beautiful, you know?” he breathed, and he was close to kissing you now. The camera was meant to capture the teeth and tongue, just to give the viewers some imagination without breaking what was acceptable for an evening show.

“Is it comfortable like that, or should I move a little?” he asked, and his voice was warm and sincere. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t he always be so kind and supportive?

“It’s okay like that, thank you,” you whispered, a little shy. San just smiled and nodded as he leaned in.

Your arm carefully moved to rest on his back, and then you kissed him harder than intended. It started slow and soft, but somehow you felt encouraged to show him that you could do this because you wanted to, and the force you used was a bit stronger than intended. You wanted to play with the camera too, capture the tease without too much. Your teeth bit his lower lip, and you gave him a challenging look, your tongues met in a playful dance.

You had his attention entirely. San was grinning and about to depen the kiss a little further than intended based on script but then the door opened.

The two of you instantly froze, and it was hard to say if it was relief or shame, but it was Seonghwa who stepped inside, looking beyond alarmed.

“What are the two of you doing here?!”

Now that you thought about it… you could imagine what this would look like.

“San?!” Seonghwa was strict, and the way he spoke like that with him made you wince.

You were about to sit up, trying to say something when San stood protectively in front of you.

“This was my idea. I thought it would help her relax since we are shooting this scene in two days. It’s tough, being expected to film this kind of kiss with a person that’s an asshole.”

Seonghwa and you both stared at him, and you wondered why that was. Did San never do this before, or was there something else to it?

The makeup artist sighed, shaking his head: “If anyone would have… never mind. We just got a call, and we have to shoot one of the night scenes tonight, so you have to come with me.”

You cleared your throat, fixing your dress again.

“Yes, you should go. Thank you for guiding me through the scene.”

San was looking at Seonghwa before looking back at you, and somehow, he seemed oddly displeased.

As you started to take the necklace off your neck, he shook his head: “Keep it. Think of it as a poor apology gift for insulting you during the table read. I'm sorry for that. I’ll see you on set tomorrow.”

San stepped out without even giving you a chance to say anything. Seonghwa only offered a small smile before he followed out.

As you were alone, you sighed: “Yeosang will murder me if he finds out about this.”

You played with the necklace and finally remembered the tag. As you turned it around, it was a name that said nothing to you until something came to mind. You pulled out your phone and browsed through San’s filmography.

Right, his first role was playing the son of a very popular actress at that time. He only had two scenes, enlisting into the military to be written off in episode three. The name on this tag was of that character. San just gifted you something from his very first set, likely very special if he bothered to wear and keep it after all those years.

“This guy, can he please decide what his personality is like?”

“Hey, Joong, do you think San has the celebrity sickness?” you asked while standing still, watching what the stylist was trying to decide for you to wear for the preview photos.

It had been a strange month. You had barely filmed with San, or at least it felt that way. Most of your scenes had been with the other cast members first, and only now were they starting to focus more on the actual ones with the romantic interest.

However, ever since that day, San seemed different. He was polite, greeted you, and a few days ago, you could have sworn he even smiled at you when you accidentally spilled cappuccino over the expensive jacket that was a product placement.

The man laughed: “I didn’t take you for somebody who uses such words.” He was obviously amused while holding a few blouses against you, trying to see which one he liked best with your hair color.

“I mean, I did read how some actors have it when they find success and then later look back, realizing they have been little rich monsters.”

Hongjoong had once said he enjoyed that you were still quite uncaring with your words around the staff who were not the ones making big choices, and it likely reflected in this moment as well.

“Little monster, you say? Well, I admit that San has changed over the years. I worked on some previous projects with him, but I wouldn’t say it was fame. You see, San had to work really hard and change quite a bit to get where he is now. He’s not the height producers want, and he used to be a very soft personality. When he was rejected for a really important role after first being announced as the pick, he sat down, bulked up, and changed to the way he is now. I do not think he has celebrity sickness, but show business does change people, not always for the better, especially if you do not have somebody to keep you grounded. You see, his best friend moved abroad after college. He was the one who always balanced him, but these days, San spends a lot of time alone. How do you like this one?”

You had gotten used to going with Hongjoong’s outfit recommendations and Seonghwa’s makeup guidelines. You were about to be a lead actress for the public, and even your social media had to match it.

“I think I like the mint one,” you said, more lost in thought and aware of Hongjoong’s little grin.

“It’s your color. Now, how about we say this set is the most relaxed I have seen him in a while, yes? Anyway, it is getting late, and I know the actors are meant to go out and have barbecue together today. Half of the filming is done now. You work hard and should relax a little. Get some rest tomorrow. In two days, we will take the most beautiful photos.”

The stylist winked and sent you off. All you could do was sigh as you pulled on your thin jacket again. You wore jeans and a blouse gifted by a brand, your hair up in a modern bun, and delicate earrings finishing the look. Underneath, the gifted necklace was hidden. Everyone else was likely already there, and you realized how you were the only one without a car or a driver. Now that filming was going well, there was no reason for Yeosang to be by your side the entire day.

“Need a ride?”

San’s voice made you look up, and for a moment, you thought you might be imagining it. His hair was undone, glasses sat on his nose, and he had a very lazy smile on his lips. The jeans and oversized hoodie with a jacket on top were quite different from the always very styled actor you knew.

“I… would like that, thank you,” you cleared your throat. He nodded and led you to his car, which was parked not too far away. To your surprise, it was also quite on the average side, but then it made sense. If you were famous, you would likely try to keep some privacy.

San waited for you to get in and get comfortable before he started to drive. You were silent until the first red traffic light forced the two of you to stop.

“Do you have celebrity sickness?” you blurted out and did not dare look at him, sinking into your seat when he laughed softly.

“Do you think so?” he asked, and you were relieved to see he was taking this incredibly dumb question with a humor you hadn’t expected. He was tapping against the wheel, and eventually, you dared to peek over. To your surprise, he actually seemed to be thinking about it.

“You were an ass when we first met. Sure, I am not really the super-experienced actress, but it was a bit too strong,” you mumbled.

“Maybe I did. Wooyoung always kept me grounded, but when he moved abroad, I guess I just got so used to showbiz, I forgot what it meant to be me or to show any compassion toward people who likely started acting for the same reason I did: dreaming to play a specific kind of role, a stage, or maybe go somewhere. Then, it takes somebody bold to call it out so you wake up and realize it.”

Your gazes met briefly before his focus returned to the road ahead.

“I did mean it. I am sorry I was like that, but I am thankful you dared to point it out. It won’t make up for it, but I will try to do better now. I actually contacted some of those I worked with to apologize. I don’t really think they will answer me back, but who knows?”

If he really did that, San must have gotten over a lot of pride. Even if you felt sorry, doing something like that was surely not easy.

You drove into the parking lot, and he just leaned back. “I guess you were my cure, Y/N,” he replied with a gentle smile, and the two of you stared. For a moment, it was almost as if he wanted to say or maybe do something, but you just got too nervous, opening the door of the car.

“We should go.” Before he could say anything else, you were out of the car and rushing off.

Everyone seemed surprised to see San so relaxed and wearing such a casual outfit, but there wasn’t much time to think about it. You were seated between some other cast members, and all you could do was glance over at him now and then, noting how he smiled and seemed more at ease.

Hours flew by, and before you noticed, everyone slowly excused themselves. Tomorrow would be your first free day in over a month, and you couldn’t wait to sleep in.

San and you were among the last to leave, and as you stepped outside, the night was much colder than expected. Before you could even joke about it, the weight of a leather jacket rested on your shoulders.

“You shouldn’t get sick,” he mumbled, then suddenly took your hand, walking you back to the car. It was hard to say why you let him; maybe you had gotten used to his spontaneous actions after filming several scenes together that felt quite similar.

The walk to the car suddenly felt long, and he was swinging your arms like some middle schoolers in love. He turned his head to look at you.

“Is this okay with you?” he asked, as if remembering to check in with you. It was sweet and innocent, and he almost looked troubled, fearing you might pull your hand away. You tapped a finger against your cheek, pretending to think about it before laughing.

“I guess. You still have a few weeks before I get so famous you’ll have to hide me,” you joked. Somehow, his expression told you he had thoughts about it, but those likely did not matter. Maybe he would tell you next time.

“I shall make the most out of it then, and for all else, people do love the story of two actors who played love interests admitting they fell in love on set… in theory. So, what if, once filming is wrapped up, you’d go out with me?”

“Somebody is getting bold,” you replied without thinking, cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you. But then, you thought about it. There was no denying that you had grown fond of him, enjoyed working with him, and treasured his little gift. The way he looked at you made you feel certain ways, but you couldn’t say exactly what it was just yet. Not to forget, the rough start.

Then, maybe you needed to be the one now guiding San, to find himself back again.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing where things might go between us.”

That was all he needed to hear. You saw it in the way he looked at you and nodded.

“There won’t be any rush. I think I might reconsider the importance and urgency of my plans for a little while now that I’ve refocused on what really matters.”

San looked up at the cloudy sky; the stars were never visible from here.

You let him be, and the two of you just enjoyed the small walk before you got back in the car. Your apartment was quite close, and soon, he was standing in front of your building.

“Thank you for driving me and, you know, being nice,” you chuckled.

“Thanks for healing me,” he winked, but there was no obvious tease in his voice.

You exhaled as you got out of the car, leaving the door open as you turned around to look at San.

“ will see you the day after tomorrow for the photoshoot. Sleep well.” You flashed him a final smile before stepping back.

“You too, pretty girl,” he answered, his eyes not leaving you even as you closed the door and headed toward your tiny apartment.

But then … You turned around on your heels, walking back to the car, and as if reading your mind, San was opening the window.

You looked at each other playfully as you grinned: “Maybe you would like to come upstairs and have a cup of water, handsome?”

San laughed, turning off the engine. “I like the sound of that.”

away with the wind | v

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 5.5K Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, swearing, child labor

a/n: 2 chapters in one day, my brain is fried

Fic Masterlist

The countdown to the Inferno Cup had begun, and with just 3 weeks left, the atmosphere was electric. The training grounds were alive with the sound of dragon wings cutting through the air and the occasional command. 

“Let’s run through that track again,” you said through the ear piece, your eyes fixed on the hologram. Seonghwa’s eyes were focused and determined, a steely resolve etched into his features. He pulled on Starshine’s reins, moving with precision to ensure that their every move was perfectly in sync. 

“Don’t pull on her reins when you come on that turn, let her do her thing,” you advised, your tone gentle but firm. Seonghwa nodded, adjusting his grip and relaxing his posture. Starshine responded immediately, her movements becoming more fluid and graceful as she navigated the turns with ease.

Seonghwa had always believed dragons were tools, meant to attend to his every beck and call. After every training session or race, he would return to the estate, his dragons to the caverns to be tended to by the keepers. But with Starshine, things were different. He found himself letting her roam his estate freely, venturing out together to explore the skies, and occasionally dropping by your home. 

This change in behavior surprised even him. He quickly realized that Starshine was not just a tool, but a companion. Her presence brought a sense of calm and that he had never felt before, a being who shared his dreams and ambitions. She was a confidante, a partner in every sense of the word.

“Nice turn on that bend,” you said, watching Seonghwa and Starshine descend gracefully from above. The dragon’s wings folded neatly as they landed, a testament to their seamless coordination. He patted her neck affectionately, a silent acknowledgment of their shared success.

Yunho approached the pair with a broad smile, waiting to take the reins from Seonghwa to unsaddle Starshine. Right on his heels was a bouncing Voltage, galloping towards Starshine with an exuberance that was infectious, his tail swishing playfully like a puppy. 

His golden eyes were sparkling with excitement, pleading with Seonghwa to let him play with Starshine now that training was over. Though he was now bonded to Yunho, Voltage still considered Seonghwa a friend, and nudged his hand with his snout, seeking more attention and pats.

His playful antics brought a smile to Seonghwa’s face as he reached out to stroke Voltage’s head. “Thanks,” he said, his voice warm with gratitude. “We’ve been working hard on those turns outside of practice.”

“It shows,” you said, feeling a sense of pride in his progress. “You two will be unstoppable.”

Seonghwa’s eyes met yours, lingering for a brief moment before handing the reins to Yunho. Over the past few months, your friendship had developed in ways neither of you had anticipated, especially after the incident in the garden with Mingi. When Mingi had accosted you, Seonghwa stepped in without hesitation, marking a turning point in your relationship. 

In the days that followed the events of that night, you found yourself questioning the nature of your relationship with Seonghwa. Were you now friends? The lines between professionalism and something more had blurred, leaving you in a state of uncertainty. 

“Lady Y/N?” a voice interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to see Ms. Jang, Park Haerin’s personal assistant. Her presence was always marked by an air of efficiency and quiet authority.

“Why are you here, Ms. Jang?” Seonghwa asked, his tone sharper than usual as he approached the older woman. 

“Lady Park requests Lady Y/N’s presence for tea,” Ms. Jang announced, her tone polite but firm, hands folded in front of her.

You exchanged a quick glance with Seonghwa. Park Haerin’s constant vigilance and involvement in Seonghwa’s life were driven by a fierce desire to see him succeed, and it was no secret that she wasn’t afraid to voice her concerns, often making Seonghwa feel suffocated under her watchful eye.

“Is this urgent?” he bit back, his voice edged with frustration.

Ms. Jang maintained her composed demeanor, but you sensed the uneasiness in her eyes as she responded to her Lord. “Lady Park simply wishes to discuss your progress with Lady Y/N,” she said, her words carefully chosen.

“Why does my mother want to meet with Y/N now? What’s this really about?” Seonghwa demanded, his frustration evident.

Ms. Jang hesitated, her gaze flickering between you and Seonghwa. “I’m not privy to all the details, my Lord,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But Lady Park was quite insistent that this meeting take place.”

Seonghwa let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone resigned.

You sighed, feeling the weight of yet another task added to your list. The thought of facing Lady Park’s probing and veiled criticisms was daunting, but you knew it was unavoidable. 

Seonghwa turned back to you, his expression still skeptical. “Let me know if she tries to pull anything.”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Guess I'll find out,” you said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

Ms. Jang’s expression softened slightly, as if she understood the burden you carried. “Lady Park will be in the east garden of the estate when you arrive,” she informed you, before turning to leave.

Bathed in sunlight, the House Park estate’s elegant architecture and meticulously maintained gardens were a testament to the wealth and status of one of Aurora’s Great Houses. The sprawling lawns were dotted with vibrant flower beds, their colors vivid and striking against the lush green backdrop with marble statues and ornate fountains added a touch of grandeur.

As you approached the entrance, the grand facade of the mansion loomed before you, its intricate stonework exuding an air of timeless elegance. More House Park staff greeted you with a deep bow. 

“Lady Y/N,” they said, their voice respectful and composed. You returned the bow and were ushered into the mansion, its interior just as impressive as its exterior. The soft glow of sunlight filtered through large windows, casting a warm, golden hue over everything–a stark contrast to the silver moonlight that enveloped the very same hall with its shadows a mere few weeks ago. 

The servant guided you to a private garden where she awaited. She sat at the immaculately set table, the high neckline and long fitted sleeves of her dress adding to her air of sophistication. Not a single strand of her hair was out of place, each wave perfectly styled. Haerin looked up as you entered, her expression composed and unreadable.

“Thank you for coming, Lady Y/N,” she said, her voice smooth and measured. “Please, have a seat.”

You took a deep breath and sat down across from her, trying to steady your nerves. “Thank you for having me, your grace.”

She nodded to the waitstaff, who promptly poured tea into your cup, the fragrant steam rising between you. “I’ve invited you to tea today to discuss Seonghwa’s progress,” she began, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’m sure you’re aware that The Inferno Cup is not just a tournament; it is a matter of honor and legacy for our House. Winning would uphold our standing among the empire and solidify Seonghwa’s position as a capable and respected rider.”

“I can assure you, your grace, that Lord Park has been making great progress. With Starshine, he’s mastered a number of incredibly difficult techniques within a few short months,” you said, your voice filled with conviction. 

“Their synchronization has improved remarkably, and they’ve developed a strong understanding of each other’s strengths and weaknesses. He’s been training tirelessly, often pushing himself beyond his limits to ensure that he and Starshine are prepared for the challenges ahead.”

Haerin’s gaze remained steady. “That is reassuring to hear. Riders participating in the Inferno Cup not only require skill but also resilience and adaptability. It is crucial that Seonghwa is able to respond to unexpected situations with precision and confidence.”

In the few short months Seonghwa had Starshine, their relationship had grown into a powerful alliance, one that Seonghwa had never experienced with his other dragons. The pair had developed an unspoken language, a seamless system of communication that allowed them to anticipate each other’s moves. Two halves of a whole, each perfectly attuned to the other’s thoughts and intentions.

“Of course, your grace,” you bowed slightly, reaching for your cup. The delicate porcelain felt cool against your fingers as you lifted it to your lips, savoring the rich aroma of the tea. “The bond between a dragon and their rider is not just a partnership; it’s the cornerstone of their combined strength and effectiveness. Dreamwoods possess an extraordinary sensitivity to the emotional states of their riders. Call it emotional resonance if you will.”

You knew that without a strong bond the consequences on the skyway could be dire. A dragon that does not trust its rider can become a liability, its fear and confusion leading to disastrous outcomes. You’ve witnessed dragons spiraling out of control, their riders clinging desperately to the reins, their cries for help swallowed by the roaring winds or by the ferocious nature of their own companion. 

A pregnant pause filled the air, the silence hanging uncomfortably. You could feel the weight of her scrutiny, the seconds ticking by slowly.

“Tell me, what do you think of Seonghwa?” The question was pointed, laden with curiosity and thinly veiled suspicion.

“You grace?” you sputtered, slightly taken aback by the sudden and pointed inquiry. You set the cup down gently, your mind racing to gather your thoughts about Seonghwa. Haerin’s gaze remained fixed on you, her expression hard and unyielding, as if daring you to speak anything but the truth.

“There’s something more than mere admiration in your eyes, isn’t there?” She leaned forward slightly. “What are your intentions with him?”

Your heart raced as you struggled to find the right words, aware that any misstep could have serious consequences. The intensity of her gaze made it clear that she was observing your every reaction.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “My relationship with his Lordship is purely professional,” you began, your voice measured. “Lord Park’s tenacity and commitment to the sport is unparalleled and admirable. My priority is to ensure complete victory for House Park and I only wish to serve to the best of my abilities. There is nothing more to it.” 

Haerin’s eyes flickered with a contemplation but she wasn’t satisfied. “Purely professional?” she echoed, her tone dripping with suspicion. “Do you mind explaining your whereabouts the night of the Inferno Gala? Are you sure there’s nothing personal between you?”

“With all due respect, your grace, Lord Park had come to my defense in a confrontation with another rider.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, her voice cold. “A confrontation, you say? I find it hard to believe that was purely coincidental.”

You felt a surge of frustration but kept your composure. “I assure you, your grace, it was nothing more than a professional courtesy.”

Haerin’s expression hardened. “Very well,” she said, her tone still guarded. “I will take you at your word, but know that I will be watching closely. Seonghwa’s reputation is paramount, and I will not allow anyone to tarnish it.”

“Yes, your grace.” The tension was palpable, a heavy weight in the air that made you eager to excuse yourself. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, the unspoken warning that any misstep would not go unnoticed.

You observed Haerin fiddling with the handle of her delicate cup, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns as if seeking comfort in the familiar texture. Her eyes darted around the garden, avoiding direct contact, as if she were unsure of what to say next. As you stood up to excuse yourself with one last bow, she suddenly spoke, her voice halting your movement.

“Wait,” she said, her tone softer but insistent. You paused, looking at her. She set the cup down with a deliberate motion, her fingers lingering on the porcelain as if reluctant to let go.

Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up. “Are you well versed in combat techniques?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of curiosity and concern.

“Y-Your grace?” you stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I worry about Seonghwa’s safety,” she blurted, a deep-seated anxiety filling her voice. Her eyes, usually so composed, now reflected her concern. “He is so dedicated, so driven, but I fear he may not be fully prepared for the dangers he might face.”

You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing weighing on your shoulders. While you had received some combat training from your grandmother and sister, the thought of teaching Seonghwa when you yourself were inexperienced, filled you with doubt. 

“If I may, your grace, are you worried about what happened in the last race?” you asked cautiously, recalling the harrowing incident that had set all of these events into motion. 

She nodded slowly. “Yes,” she admitted. “That race was a stark reminder of how unprepared he can be. The chase in the canyon, the chaos that ensued… It was a miracle no one was seriously injured, though that race should have been a given against that Longhorn.” You could see the fear in her eyes. For once, she seemed human, vulnerable. 

“I understand the importance of thorough preparation and the need for vigilance, however… If a dragon is truly bonded with their rider, their instincts will drive them to do whatever they can to protect them,” you reassured, attempting to mask your own hesitations. “I am more than happy to consult my grandmother on techniques that would prepare his grace should he ever find himself in the face of danger.”

Haerin took a deep breath, the tension in her face and shoulders easing. “Thank you, Lady Y/N,” she said, her voice steadier now. The gratitude in her eyes was unmistakable, despite her standoffish demeanor towards you. 

“I’m afraid I must return to the skyway, your grace” you bowed, the formal gesture a sign of respect and duty. As you straightened, you noticed the way Haerin’s gaze softened, if only for a moment.

“Very well,” she replied flatly, her tone betraying none of the emotions that flickered in her eyes. She turned away, her posture rigid once more.

You thought of Seonghwa as you left the garden, sympathizing with the constant pressure he faced. The weight of his responsibilities, the relentless demands on his time and energy, and the expectations placed upon him were immense. Your empathy for him deepened your resolve to support him in every way possible.

“The race is only a few weeks away. I’m not sure if Starshine and Seonghwa will be prepared to master combat techniques in time,” you said, your voice filled with worry. The weight of the upcoming tournament weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you couldn’t help but glance out the window in the direction of the Park estate.

You were in the kitchen with your grandmother, preparing dinner and recounting your conversation with Park Haerin. While you stewed in your own thoughts, she continued to peel the potatoes, her hands moving rhythmically. 

“We’re in a time of peace, not war. Even if those techniques are taught out of an abundance of precaution, what matters is the trust and connection between them.”

“Are you saying you’re unwilling to teach Starshine how to do a barrel roll?” Your grandmother glared at you, earning a hearty laugh. 

“Sunmi’s preoccupied with the baby, you’re…old, and my body isn’t the same as it used to be. I can’t think of anyone willing to teach him those move sets.” You added your own handful of sliced potatoes to the pot, taking in the comforting aroma of the simmering herbs. 

“Old, am I?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know I could still outfly you on my worst day.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t doubt it, but we need someone who can keep up with Starshine’s energy.” A comfortable silence settled in the kitchen, the sound of the stove bubbling softly in the background. You stirred the pot absently, lost in thought.

“You know, Sohee’s been practicing divebombs with Outlaw,” your grandmother remarked casually, breaking the silence. 

Your jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Age is just a number, my dear,” she shrugged, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “She’s shown more promise than many seasoned riders three times her age. Sometimes, the young surprise us with their capabilities.”

“Sunmi’s going to kill me.”

“She’s been quite encouraging, actually,” she replied with a sly grin. “When you’re six and "bored" all the time, training dragons is a great pastime.”

You sighed, still grappling with the idea. “I know she’s talented, but this is different. Training Seonghwa is a huge responsibility, especially with his mother watching my every move.”

“Give her a chance,” your grandmother urged gently. “You might be amazed at what she can do. Besides, if something happens to her, we can sue House Park for every shilling in that vault of theirs.”

You arrived at the skyway, leaving Cirrus at home and bringing Outlaw instead. Sohee was in tow, with Burrow perched precariously on her head like a living hat. The tiny dragon’s wings flapped occasionally, trying to maintain balance as your niece strutted confidently ahead. Yunho watched with amusement, a grin spreading across his face, while Seonghwa stood nearby, his expression a combination of dread and apprehension.

“Is today ‘bring your kid to work day’?” Seonghwa asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Yunho chuckled, “Sohee’s here to help.”

“Help!?” Seonghwa echoed with disbelief.

“Sohee, are you sure Burrow is comfortable up there?” you asked, trying to hide your amusement as you both approached the rider and handler. 

“Of course she is!” Sohee replied with a dramatic eye roll. “She loves it. Right, Burrow?” The little dragon chirped in agreement. 

Sohee’s bright eyes sparkled with mischief as her gaze met Seonghwa’s. She wore a miniature version of the riding gear, looking every bit the part of a young dragon rider with her hair braided into twin tails. 

“Come on, Outlaw! We’ve got rich people to train and moves to master!” she called back to you, her small frame was almost comically serious as she stood with her hands on her hips. You fumbled behind wrangling an overly eager Outlaw. 

She turned to Seonghwa. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” she said with a confident grin. “I’m practically a pro already.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Yunho, who was barely containing his laughter. “A pro, huh?” he muttered. Starshine nuzzled Sohee, earning a giggle from the young girl. 

Yunho bent down to Sohee’s level, a smile on his face. “Here are your comms, boss!” he said, handing her a pair of earbuds with a playful salute. “These will help you communicate with Seonghwa, your aunt, and me from far away.”

“Copy that!” she exclaimed, returning the gesture just as you reached the trio with Outlaw pawing the ground behind you as if he were saying he was “ready for action”. 

Sohee turned to you with a serious expression that was almost comical on her young face. “Okay, let’s start! We have to make Mr. Seonghwa the best dragon rider ever!” 

With a sassy flick of her braid, she approached Outlaw with the confidence of a seasoned rider. She gave a quick, practiced whistle, and Outlaw obediently lowered one of his massive wings to the ground. With a graceful leap, Sohee used the wing as a springboard, her small frame soaring through the air. She landed lightly on Outlaw’s back, her movements fluid and precise, as if she had done this a thousand times before.

Burrow, flittered over to find purchase on your shoulder, letting out a supportive trill. Seonghwa sighed, resigned to his fate, while Yunho clapped him on the back, still grinning.

“This should be interesting,” Yunho said, his eyes crinkling with excitement. 

With Sohee confidently perched on Outlaw, the training session began in earnest. Seonghwa, still looking a bit apprehensive, mounted Starshine, and awaited instructions.

“So, what’s first on the agenda?” Yunho's voice came through the comms, his tone playful.

Sohee straightened up, adopting a serious expression. “Okay, first we’re gonna do barrel rolls! They’re super important for dodging bad guys and making them dizzy!”

Seonghwa nodded. “Alright, let’s do this.”

“Watch me,” Sohee instructed. She gave Outlaw a gentle nudge with her heels, and the dragon took off into the sky. With a swift command, Outlaw executed a perfect barrel roll, twisting with great force through the air. Sohee’s laughter echoed as they completed the maneuver.

“Now you try!” she called through the comms to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa took a deep breath and urged Starshine into the air. Following Sohee’s example, he guided Starshine into a barrel roll, hesitating for a moment before twisting through the air, completing the maneuver with a bit of a wobble.

“That’s okay!” Sohee shouted, clapping her hands. “Do it again until Starshine isn’t wobbly!” 

Seonghwa nodded, determination setting in. He guided Starshine back into the air and repeated the barrel roll, each time improving on the maneuver. With each attempt, Starshine’s movements became smoother and more controlled. 

“Yay, Mr. Seonghwa!” she cheered after his final attempt. “Starshine looks better now. You’re getting the hang of it! Let’s do some dive bombs!”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“Dive bombing is all about speed and precision,” you explained through the comms, watching as Sohee’s small hands gestured animatedly through the hologram. “It’s the maneuver that Ajax used to injure Edge. I showed you how to perform it, remember?”

“Hey, are you listening!?” Sohee asked, pouting from her saddle. Seonghwa nodded as she took off with Outlaw, soaring high into the sky. With a sharp command from Sohee, they plummeted towards the ground. At the last possible moment, Outlaw pulled up, skimming just above the ground before soaring back into the air.

“Your turn!” Sohee called out, waving her arms in the air. 

Seonghwa urged Starshine to gain altitude. Once they were high enough, he took a deep breath and initiated the dive. The wind roared past them as they hurtled towards the ground. At the last moment, Seonghwa pulled up, and Starshine leveled out, albeit a bit shakily.

“Great job!” Sohee cheered. “Again!”

“Again!?” Seonghwa groaned, this time with playful exasperation. He glanced back at Sohee, who was grinning from ear to ear. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am! You’re getting better every time. Come on, one more dive!” 

Seonghwa sighed dramatically but couldn’t hide his grin. “Alright, alright. One more dive.”

As Seonghwa and Starshine prepared for another dive, Sohee’s voice rang out with a new idea. “Let’s do some wing slashes!”

“Sohee, shouldn’t you teach Seonghwa how to block?” you asked through the comms, your voice crackling slightly but clear enough to convey the suggestion.

Sohee paused, her excitement momentarily halted. “Oops. Yeah, let’s do that!” she agreed, her tone shifting to one of determination. “Let’s do some blocking!” 

“Alright, show me how it’s done.”

“First, you need to keep Starshine’s wings close,” Sohee instructed, her voice filled with authority. Outlaw brought his wings around like a formidable shield, enveloping both himself and Sohee in a protective embrace.

“Like this?” Seonghwa asked, carefully mimicking the motion with Starshine.

“Yeah! Now, let’s practice with some attacks. I’ll go easy on you.”

With a determined look, Sohee commanded Outlaw to unleash a series of blasts. The fiery projectiles were strong enough to push Seonghwa and Starshine back, but not enough to cause any real harm. Starshine quickly adapted, using her wings to deflect the fireballs, shielding Seonghwa from the fiery onslaught.

Seonghwa’s confidence grew with each successful block. “This isn’t so bad,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Okay, now faster!” Sohee shouted.

“Faster!?” Seonghwa echoed, his eyes widening in surprise.

Outlaw began swooping and diving, changing angles and speeds as he launched a rapid succession of flames, making the attacks unpredictable. Starshine’s wings moved with incredible speed, each deflection creating a burst of sparks in the air. She mirrored these movements, twisting and turning in mid-air to keep up with the barrage. Seonghwa held tight, his body moving in sync with Starshine’s powerful maneuvers.

Sensing Seonghwa’s frustration and inability to go on the offensive, Starshine returned fire to Outlaw who was caught off guard by the sudden counterattack. Her eyes blazed with determination, and a fierce roar erupted from her throat, echoing through the sky.

“Sohee, that’s enough for now. Starshine is getting stressed,” you said through the comms, concerned for your niece's safety while you noticed the strain in the dragon’s movements.

“No,” Seonghwa interjected firmly. “She’s fine. Sohee, keep firing at me.”

Starshine’s movements were not defensive but filled with a fiery spirit, each block a testament to her protective instincts. Seonghwa’s heart pounded in his chest, but he felt a surge of exhilaration with each successful defense, feeding off his dragon’s fierce energy.

Outlaw’s fireballs came faster and more unpredictably, but Starshine met each one with unwavering precision. Her wings moved like a well-oiled machine, deflecting the attacks with a grace that belied the intensity of the situation. Seonghwa could feel the bond between them strengthening, a silent understanding passing between rider and dragon.

“You’re getting really good, Mr. Seonghwa! But I’m hungry and it's too smoky,” Sohee called out with a cough, her small voice barely cutting through the haze.

Yunho, who had been observing from a distance, approached with a smile. “Great job, everyone. The training session went really well today,” he said, giving Seonghwa a pat on the back. 

Sohee slid off Outlaw with a relieved sigh. Her cheeks were flushed and braids tousled as she bounded over toward  you. “Auntie, I’m hungry!” she complained, patting her tummy and looking up with wide, pleading eyes. Burrow trilled, reuniting with her rider, echoing her sentiment for food. 

“Alright, what should we eat?”

“Pasta! Can Mr. Seonghwa and Yunho come too?”

“Why am I, Mr. Seonghwa?” Seonghwa raised a brow at the title.

“Because Yunho is nice and my friend, and Mom said I have to be polite because you’re rich.” Sohee replied matter-of-factly, her innocent honesty making everyone chuckle.

Seonghwa feigned a look of hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “I can be nice too!”

Yunho laughed, ruffling Sohee’s hair affectionately. “Don’t worry, Mr. Seonghwa. You’re nice in your own way.”

“Of course,” you replied with a giggle, enjoying the lighthearted banter. “Let’s head back and get you washed up. You smell like smoke.”

As you all began to walk back, Seonghwa and Yunho fell into step beside you, the three of you discussing the day’s training, analyzing what went well and what could be improved.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked, approaching Seonghwa. You had dropped Sohee off at home and returned to the skyway with Cirrus. With the race quickly approaching, training days extended late into the night, leaving little room for rest.

Seonghwa looked up, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “A bit exhausted, but it was a good session,” he replied with a tired smile. 

You nodded, glancing over at Starshine who was resting nearby on her side. “Starshine did amazing today. You both did.”

“When your sister said Sohee would run me into the ground, she wasn’t kidding,” he chuckled. Seonghwa took a deep breath, looking out over the skyway.

With twilight on the horizon, the stars were beginning to twinkle, and the cool night air was a welcome relief after the day’s heat. For a moment, the two of you stood in comfortable silence, but you noticed Seonghwa's expression shift, a shadow crossing his face.

“What did you discuss with my mother when you met with her the other day?” he asked, his tone curious but edged with suspicion.

You glanced down at him, taking in his features. His sharp jawline was set with determination, and the way his hair fell slightly over his forehead gave him a thoughtful, almost brooding look.

“Just…your progress,” you finally said.

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed with a grimace. “My progress? Is that all?” he pressed. “I find it hard to believe that was the only topic of conversation.”

You omitted the part of the conversation where his mother questioned your intentions with him. You’ve both made it clear that this partnership was solely professional, however, over time you found yourself drawn to Seonghwa’s strength, his resilience, and the way he carried himself despite the pressures he faced. You admired his dedication and the quiet moments of vulnerability, something you hadn’t anticipated.

You were taken aback at his sudden defensiveness, and try to maintain your own composure. “Seonghwa, your mother only wanted to know if you’re prepared ahead of the cup.”

“So she asked you to teach me combat techniques?” he snapped, his tone accusatory, eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms defensively. 

You felt your own frustration rising, a knot forming in your chest. “She did. Because she’s worried about you. We all want to make sure you’re ready for whatever comes your way,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I don’t need her meddling in my training,” he retorted. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, and her constant interference is undermining my ability to stand on my own. Especially when she starts getting others involved,” he emphasized, eyes locked on you. 

"You asked me to train you!" you frowned.  

“I did.” he bellowed, taking a step towards you. “Let me remind you that you work for me.” I wanted to learn from you is what he left unsaid.

The constant interference left him feeling isolated and misunderstood. He yearned for the freedom to make his own choices, to build relationships based on his own desires and values. But every attempt to assert his independence was met with resistance, leaving him feeling more trapped and alone. He always felt suffocated by the weight of expectations that were never his own. Every choice, every decision seemed to be made for him, leaving him with nothing that truly belonged to him. 

And then he chose you. He begged you to train him, willing to pay any price in hopes you would accept the job. You were supposed to be his chance to finally take control of something in his life. But now, even that seemed tainted by the ever-present shadow of his mother’s influence.

“Do not drag me into this!” you snapped back, your voice echoing his intensity. “Your issues with her are yours alone. Address them with her, not me.”

His response was swift and biting. “You brought yourself into this when you approached me at the Institute,” he shot back, his words felt like a slap, unexpected and stinging.

You could only stare at Seonghwa incredulously, blinking back tears. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, leaving you both in a tense standoff.

You knew where he was going with this. It was easier to blame those around him than take accountability for his actions. You knew it when Hongjoong alluded to it with his comments during the gala. You knew it even before you met him, from the whispers and warnings uttered by those close enough to be scorned by him.

I don't want you to get hurt. Why do Mingi's words weigh so heavily on your heart right now.

“So why didn’t you stop me?” you demanded, your voice breaking under the strain of your emotions. "I admit that I approach you with the goal of beating Mingi. But I didn't expect you to turn on me so quickly. So why didn't you stop me?"

The admission hung in the air, a testament to his own helplessness. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course you don’t,” you grit, your voice rising with anger. “Because you’ve never taken accountability for your own actions! You’re too much of a coward to confront your own mother and instead, take it out on everyone else around you,” you accused, the pain and frustration spilling over.

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you turned on your heel and stormed off, your footsteps crunching against the ground as you wiped the hot tears from your face. 

Bottom of Mito Ravine, Border between the Empire of Aurora and Halazia

“Careful with that one.” A voice instructed, pointing to a particularly large and mangled carcass with iridescent copper scales. “Dr. Kang needs the heart and the brain intact for the hybridization process.”

Two assistants carefully approached the dragon, working quickly but meticulously to extract the required organs and placing them in specially designed containment units. The team moved the containers to a portable lab set up at the edge of the ravine. Inside, various dragon parts were being analyzed and cataloged, each one holding the potential for groundbreaking discoveries. 

The lab buzzed with activity as samples were processed and data was collected. Scientists moved between workstations, their focus intense as they examined the dragon remains, each discovery bringing them one step closer to their goal: to create a new generation of dragons with enhanced traits to create the ultimate combatants and competitors.

For the scientists, the ethical implications of their work were a constant undercurrent, but the promise of power and prestige drove them forward.

<< iv | vi >>

a/n: I lied there are now 2 chapters before I see the boys lol, wrote this part while at the airport

taglist: @litolmochi @syubseokie

away with the wind | xi

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 5.1K Warnings: hints of dragon trafficking, domestic!Hwa

Fic Masterlist

“Dr. Kang!”

Your voice echoed down the dimly lit corridor, the sound almost swallowed by the bustle of the Institute at day's end. Researchers and assistants hurried past, eager to escape the confines of their workstations, their chatter blending into a low hum of exhaustion and anticipation. You weaved through the throng, quickening your pace as you spotted your colleague’s familiar silhouette just ahead. 

“Thank you so much for the report!” you said breathlessly, forcing a bright smile as you reached him. You tried to inject your voice with enthusiasm, but it came out slightly strained, a side effect of the long hours you’d both been pulling. “It really helped me out!”

Yeosang’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a subtle shift in his demeanor—a flicker of something unreadable behind his composed exterior. He offered you a small, guarded smile, the kind that never quite reached his eyes.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, his tone polite but distant. “After all, the biology department is crucial to supporting the research that ensures the conservation of future dragon generations.”

His acknowledgment was formal, almost mechanical, as if it were an obligation. You couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze drifted past you, as if his mind was already elsewhere. Yeosang’s smile remained polite, but it didn’t deepen.

You shifted awkwardly, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you. “I really appreciate it,” you added, hoping to bridge the gap. “I know it’s been a long week for everyone.”

Yeosang nodded, but his eyes remained distant. “I really should be going. I have lots to prepare for tomorrow,” he replied, already shifting his weight toward the exit.

“Of course,” you agreed quickly, stepping back to give him space, adding a polite bow. “Don’t let me keep you,” you added, your voice light.

You watched him go, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. There was something about his demeanor that felt off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his hurried departure than just preparations for tomorrow.

As Yeosang reached the door, he paused for a moment, his hand on the handle. He glanced back at you, his expression unreadable. “Actually…” he began, his tone less formal, tinged with curiosity. You glanced up to find him hesitating at the door, one hand still on the handle, his brow furrowed in thought. “Why did you need the phenotype sequencing report?”

The question caught you slightly off guard, but you maintain your composure. Yeosang wasn’t typically one to pry, especially about projects outside his immediate focus. His sudden interest felt unexpected, but you kept your expression neutral, not letting on that you noticed the shift in his demeanor.

“It’s for a side project I’m working on,” you explained smoothly, keeping your tone casual and confident. “I’ve been looking into the genetic markers that might influence adaptation to different environments. The Kuku have been particularly interesting because of their extreme intelligence.”

Yeosang’s expression remained guarded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed your explanation. “The Kuku?” he repeated, his tone carefully neutral. “They’re not the easiest breed to study. Most researchers steer clear of them because of their unpredictability. What drew you to them?” There was an edge to his voice now, one that made your nerves tighten. 

You forced a smile, trying to maintain the facade of casual conversation. “But that’s what makes them so fascinating. Their intelligence might hold clues to how they adapt so well to different environments. If we can understand that, it could have broader implications for other breeds.”

Yeosang studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “And you think the sequencing report will provide those answers?”

“It’s a starting point,” you nodded confidently, leaning into your explanation. “The report allows me to compare their genetic markers with those of other breeds, which could reveal patterns or anomalies worth investigating further. It’s about building a foundation for more targeted research.”

“I see,” he said finally, though his tone still carried a trace of skepticism. “Just make sure you’re not venturing into areas that could raise questions. The Kuku are… sensitive, and it’s crucial to proceed with caution.”

“I’m aware of the challenges, I just think there’s potential here. But if there’s any concern, I’m more than happy to collaborate and keep everything above board.”

There was a brief pause, and then Yeosang nodded, though the suspicion in his eyes hadn’t completely faded. “Good,” he nodded, his tone clipped. “Just keep that in mind. I’d…hate to see any issues arise.”

“Understood,” you replied with a slight nod of your own. “I appreciate the heads up, Dr. Kang.”

With that, Yeosang gave a curt nod and turned away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. You watched him go, a mixture of relief and unease settling over you. The day had been long and filled with tension, and you were more than ready to leave the confines of the Institute.

The flight home was unusually quiet, with only the distant roar of the wind breaking the silence. You sat in the saddle, lost in thought as Dr. Kang’s words echoed in your mind, their meaning elusive yet persistently nagging at the edges of your consciousness. As Cirrus descended onto the manor’s roof, you noticed Starshine lying obediently by the window, her tail swishing back and forth. Dismounting, you approached her.

“What are you doing out here, pretty girl?” you cooed, gently tapping her snout despite her imposing size. Starshine leaned into your touch, a soft purr resonating deep within her chest. Unlike the other dragons your family bred, she was always more docile, often reminding you more of a cat than a fearsome dragon.

You noticed her gaze was fixed on something inside, her large eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. Following her glance, you peered into the kitchen through the large window and noticed Seonghwa helping your grandmother and Sohee prepare dinner. 

Seonghwa!?

You did a double take, eyes widened in shock at the sight of him cheerfully stirring the pot, a spatula in hand, and completely at ease, as if he had been part of your family for years. 

Your jaw dropped, and your knuckles rapped furiously against the glass, the sound sharp and insistent. Starshine tilted her head in curiosity, but you were too focused on the scene inside to notice. Seonghwa looked up at the sound, meeting your gaze with a wide, innocent grin. He waved the spatula in greeting, completely oblivious to your disbelief.

“That little–!” you muttered under your breath, eyes wide in disbelief. How Seonghwa managed to ingratiate himself effortlessly into your family was a mystery you might never solve.

You huffed in exasperation and stormed into the manor, your braid whipping your face in a disarrayed mess. Glasses slipping down your nose, you stomped through the halls, each step echoing with irritation as your leather messenger bag bounced against your hip.

“Auntie’s home!” Sohee cheered, her voice ringing with excitement as she hopped down from the chair she was standing on. Her small feet pattered across the floor as she rushed toward you, arms outstretched for a hug. 

Your gaze drifted over her shoulder, eyes narrowing at Seonghwa, who stood by the counter, utterly at ease in your kitchen. He met your stare with a casual smile, his expression open and friendly. There was something undeniably irritating about how he had charmed his way into your life—and now into your family—without so much as breaking a sweat.

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had happened, but suddenly there he was, seamlessly fitting into the nooks and crannies of your life as if he had always been there. It was like discovering an unexpected puzzle piece that completed the picture perfectly.

“Did you have fun helping?” you asked your niece, keeping your tone light as if nothing were amiss.

Sohee nodded enthusiastically, her face lighting up with pride. “Seonghwa said I’m really good at cutting vegetables and even let me stir the sauce!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.

“Seonghwa?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow as you looked down at her. “What happened to Mr. Seonghwa?”

“We’re friends now,” Sohee announced matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, leaving no room for debate. 

“How much did he pay you?” you whispered quietly enough for only your niece to hear. 

Sohee looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Huh?”

“Never mind,” you said, straightening up with a sigh, though you couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Why don’t you help Grandma finish dinner? I need to change and put my stuff away.” 

You glanced back at Seonghwa, who was still leaning against the counter with that infuriatingly relaxed posture. He was smiling, of course, and you could tell he was enjoying this far more than he should be.

“I didn’t realize we were to be graced with your benevolence, Lord Park,” you said, your tone half-teasing, half-exasperated.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “But of course,” he replied, matching your tone with a mock bow. “I live to serve, my lady.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you shot him a pointed look. Just as you opened your mouth to retaliate, the vibration of your phone cut through the playful tension in the room. Without missing a beat, you unlocked the device and opened the message. The text was brief, but it sent a jolt through you:

[Intensive Care Bear]: Test results are in. Call me when you can.

Your stomach tightened. Whatever the results were, they clearly weren’t something Jongho wanted to discuss over text. You held up your phone, the screen still displaying Jongho’s message. 

“It’s Jongho. The test results are in.” Your playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern. “You should probably be here for this.”

You leaned back in your chair, mouth full of pasta, as Jongho’s hologram materialized before you in your home office. The cozy space was filled with the aroma of your dinner, the light from the desk lamp casting a soft glow on the walls lined with research notes and personal mementos. 

Seonghwa lounged comfortably on the sofa nearby, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, holding his own bowl of pasta as you waited for Jongho to pick up the call. 

“Whaddaya got?” you mumbled around a mouthful of food, trying to balance your hunger with the urgency of the moment.

Jongho’s hologram remained composed, his virtual image sharp and precise as a digital dataset materialized beside him. “It’s a match,” he reported, his tone measured and clinical. “I had our folks run the comparison twice just to be sure.”

You set your dinner aside, your attention fully on the data streamed before you, each detail meticulously laid out. Your heart raced as you took in the results, the implications slowly sinking in.

“So what does this mean?” Seonghwa asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the gravity of the findings weighing heavily on you. “There’s a significant genetic overlap,” you explained, gesturing to the data displayed before you. “Ajax shares key genetic markers with the Kuku. He’s definitely a hybrid, but not the combination we initially expected.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed, trying to piece together the implications of your words. “Does this confirm that he has advanced cognitive capabilities?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, your tone resolute as you leaned back in your chair. “It’s the only explanation for how he learned Cirrus’ spiral without ever being taught. Ajax’s ability to mimic such a complex maneuver through observation alone is a clear indicator of those advanced traits.”

“Cromer Labs could be developing dragons with attributes we haven’t even begun to fully understand,” Jongho’s hologram flickered slightly as he responded. “If they are, they’re unleashing forces the public isn’t prepared to handle.”

You rubbed your chin thoughtfully, the weight of the situation sinking in. “Now we have to figure out Jinsik’s whereabouts and the lab’s role in his disappearance. He might be a key piece in understanding that “trial” his father mentioned.”

As you spoke, Jongho’s hologram shifted, his tone changing to one of mild surprise as he glanced towards Seonghwa. “By the way, I didn’t know you were having dinner together.”

You picked up your bowl of pasta, taking a deliberate bite to emphasize the casual nature of the situation. “He was here before I got home. I assumed he was here to pick up Starshine.”

“Uh-huh,” Jongho mused, crossing his arms with a sly smile. “I must say, using your dragon as an excuse is quite the clever coincidence, your grace.”

You felt a flush of embarrassment rising to your cheeks, clearly caught off guard by Jongho’s insinuation. “Are you done?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light despite the heat of the moment. “I’d like to finish my food in peace!”

Jongho raised an eyebrow, his hologram flickering with a hint of mischief. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. Just remember to fill me in later on this dinner ‘date’–”

“Goodbye,” you said firmly, cutting him off mid-sentence as you turned off your phone. You set the device down, feeling the heat still lingering on your cheeks. Seonghwa chuckled softly, clearly amused by the exchange.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Cromer Labs Opens Its Doors: Exclusive Public Tours Available

[AURORA, EMPIRE OF AURORA] – Cromer Labs is pleased to announce the opening of its state-of-the-art research facility to the general public for guided tours. This initiative reflects our commitment to transparency and public engagement in the field of advanced scientific research.

As pioneers in advanced research and development, Cromer Labs stands at the vanguard of groundbreaking discoveries in genetic engineering and biotechnologies. Our mission is to mitigate the prevalence of inherited diseases in dragons.

Attendees will gain access to our cutting-edge laboratories and research environments, showcasing the advanced technologies and methodologies employed in our work including: 

A comprehensive overview of our current research projects, including developments in genetic engineering and biotechnology. Visitors will also have the opportunity to engage with interactive displays that will provide detailed information on our scientific processes and their potential impacts on future innovations.

We invite you to join us for this unique opportunity to witness the forefront of scientific research and innovation. 

The sleek, modern architecture of the lab’s facility loomed above you, its reflective surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders, excitement and apprehension twisting in your gut. The press area was abuzz with activity, the hum of conversation blending with the click of cameras and the rustle of notepads. Some had their microphones at the ready, while others focused intently on their notepads, poised to jot down any notable details.

Are you okay?” Yunho’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone light and teasing as he shot Hongjoong a curious glance. He walked with an easy confidence, his long strides effortlessly keeping pace with yours.

“This is the first time he’s seen the sun in a month,” you replied, your tone half-joking as you reached out to pat Hongjoong’s back.

Hongjoong, who had been staring intently at the ground, seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. He looked up at you, blinking against the brightness of the day, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Correction: A week,” he muttered, though the pale tone of his skin and the dark circles under his eyes suggested otherwise.

“You’ve been holed up in the archives for so long, I was starting to think you were allergic to daylight,” Yunho chuckled. 

“Don’t let his father know, he might just drag him home,” you added, your tone light but with a hint of teasing. The image of Lord Kim, stern and unyielding, hauling his son away from his beloved work, flashed in your mind. It was almost enough to make you laugh. Before you could dwell on it, your attention was drawn to the arrival of Seonghwa, Lord Kim, and other members of the Assembly, their presence commanding respect as they made their way toward the lab’s entrance.

Seonghwa caught your eye as he walked alongside Hongjoong’s father, and for a moment, you were struck by the transformation he had undergone. Gone was the racing world’s golden boy who lived for speed and thrills, replaced by someone who now exuded the calm, composed demeanor of a dignified leader. His expression was serious, and there was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself.

As your eyes met, Seonghwa gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, a subtle acknowledgment of your presence amidst the formalities. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, a silent understanding passing between you that, despite everything, you were in this together.

The crowd’s murmur turned into a chorus of whispers as Lady Lee made her entrance with a flourish that matched the grandeur of the facility. Her walk was deliberate and graceful, each step measured to maintain an air of authority and elegance. Her heels clicked sharply against the ground adding a rhythmic emphasis to her entrance.

You glanced over at Yunho, who had fallen silent beside you, his earlier playful demeanor replaced with a more focused expression. He, like everyone else, was captivated by the presence of Lady Lee. Hongjoong, standing between the two of you, remained stiff, his eyes fixed on her as if trying to gauge her next move.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Lady Lee’s voice rang out clearly and smoothly, amplified by the podium’s microphone. “Thank you all for joining us today at Cromer Labs. It is an honor to welcome so many esteemed members of the press, the Assembly, and our community. Today marks a significant milestone not just for Cromer Labs, but for the future of biotechnology and research itself.”

Lady Lee’s eyes swept across the crowd, meeting the gaze of several key figures. Her poise was impeccable, each word delivered with precision.

“At Cromer Labs, we are not content with merely following the advancements of our field—we aim to lead, to innovate, and to push the boundaries of what is possible when it comes to our beloved dragons. Today, we are proud to offer you a glimpse into our world. You will see our state-of-the-art laboratories, meet the brilliant minds behind our research, and witness firsthand the innovations that are poised to redefine the health and future of generations to come.” 

She gestured to the towering facility behind her, its sleek design gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“As you tour our facility today, I encourage you to look beyond the technology and the data. See the vision, the passion, and the relentless pursuit of excellence that drives every individual here. This is more than a lab—it is a beacon of hope for what the future can be.”

Lady Lee concluded her speech with a poised nod to the crowd, her presence commanding as she silently signaled the researchers to begin the tour.  As she stepped back, the researchers moved forward with practiced precision, their movements synchronized as they began to lead the attendees deeper into the facility. Cameras clicked, and hushed conversations sparked as the visitors were ushered into the heart of Cromer Labs.

You walked alongside Yunho and Hongjoong, but your thoughts were far from the polished presentations. The disappearance of Jinsik weighed heavily on your mind, the unresolved mystery gnawing at you with each step you took through the sterile, high-tech corridors. 

The guide’s voice droned on in the background, detailing the lab’s advancements in gene therapy, but you were only half-listening. Your focus was on the room itself—the layout, the security measures, the people. You noticed the subtle tension in the way some of the staff moved, the quick glances they exchanged, as if they were aware of something more than just the tour.

“This place feels too polished, too controlled. They’re showing us what they want us to see,” Yunho leaned in, his voice low. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” you replied quietly. “But there’s got to be more behind the scenes. We just need to find it.”

Seonghwa, walking just ahead of you, slowed his pace slightly, allowing the two of you to catch up. “We’ll need to split up at some point,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Cover more ground without drawing too much attention.”

You leaned in closer to Seonghwa, your voice barely above a whisper as you scanned the hallway ahead. “This is where we should split,” you said, your tone steady despite the tension coiling in your gut. “Yunho and I will pretend we got lost. It’ll be easier to slip away unnoticed if we act like we’re just trying to catch up.”

Seonghwa’s eyes flicked between you and Yunho, assessing the plan in a heartbeat. His expression remained composed, but you could see the calculation in his gaze—the weight of what you were asking him to do.

“You should stay with the rest of the Assembly members,” you continued, your voice low but firm. “If you stay with them, it won’t draw any suspicion. Hongjoong can help keep the focus off us.”

“Be careful,” he murmured, his voice a quiet command, barely more than a whisper. The simplicity of his words belied the depth of his concern. His voice held a softness, an undertone of worry he couldn’t fully mask. It was a plea disguised as advice, his calm facade barely concealing the raw edges of his anxiety.

Yunho shifted beside you, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced with a seriousness that matched the gravity of the situation. “If we find anything, we’ll let you know.”

You took a deep breath, preparing for your cue. As the guide’s explanations became more detailed and technical, you deliberately slowed your pace, feigning interest in a nearby display. You made a show of looking confused and slightly frustrated, glancing around as if trying to find your way back to the group. Yunho mirrored your actions, keeping close but maintaining a slight distance to avoid drawing suspicion.

With one last look at you, Seonghwa hesitated, his gaze lingering. The concern in his eyes was unmistakable, a deep worry he couldn’t mask. The thought of you venturing into the unknown worried him—every part of him wanted to be by your side, ensuring your safety. But he knew the importance of maintaining the guise, keeping the tour running smoothly to avoid suspicion. Even as he seamlessly rejoined the group, engaging in light conversation and maintaining a composed demeanor, his thoughts never strayed far from you.

Navigating the dimly lit corridors of Cromer Labs, you and Yunho were on high alert, each step echoing softly in the hushed environment. The facility’s labyrinthine design seemed almost purpose-built for concealment, its stark white walls and cold metal surfaces giving little away. You had spent several minutes exploring, Yunho’s keen eyes and your own sharp instincts guiding your search. The halls were filled with locked doors and secured rooms, each labeled with technical jargon that meant little without the context of what you were looking for.

As you turned a corner, Yunho paused, his hand gently gripping your arm. “Look,” he whispered, pointing to a faint trail of scorch marks on the floor. They were barely noticeable, but to a trained eye, they were a clear sign of dragon fire. 

The trail led you both through a series of winding corridors until it opened up into the loading docks. The space was vast and industrial, a stark contrast to the pristine, clinical environment you had left behind. The docks were filled with transportation cages and shipping containers stacked in disarray. The hum of machinery and the occasional clang of metal created a backdrop of industrial noise.

Your gaze swept across the area, “What is this?” you asked yourself, eyes narrowing as you took in the scene.

The scorch marks continued across the floor, leading towards a cluster of large, heavily secured cages. These cages were not typical; they were reinforced and fitted with intricate locking mechanisms, their design suggesting they were meant to contain something more dangerous than standard cargo. Several cages showed signs of recent use—scratches on the metal, faint burn marks around the locks, and disturbed packing materials scattered around. 

Yunho’s eyes fell on a partially open container nearby. The door was ajar, and the interior was dark. With a cautious nod, you both approached and peered inside. The sight that greeted you was troubling—inside the container were several large, empty cages, their contents missing but still bearing traces of dragon fire. The metal was scorched and blackened, indicating a significant amount of heat had been applied.

Yunho stepped closer, his eyes scanning the interior with a mix of concern and determination. “These cages are big enough to transport juveniles,” he observed, his voice low but firm.

You glanced around the container, noting the disarray. The floor was littered with remnants of broken restraints and scattered straw, suggesting a hasty departure. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt metal and something else—fear, perhaps.

You ran a hand along the edge of one of the cages. The metal was still warm to the touch, a stark reminder of the recent violence. “They must have transported them elsewhere right as the tour started,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of the creatures being moved under such duress sent a shiver down your spine.

Without wasting a moment, you pulled out your phone, taking photos of the scorched cages, capturing the blackened metal and the remnants of chains. You made sure to document every detail—the size of the cages, the pattern of the scorch marks, and the broken restraints. Yunho joined you, narrating the scene as he moved the camera around the container. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you muttered, shaking your head as you quickly typed out a brief message to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, detailing your findings and urging them to review the photos. You glanced around, hoping to find any further evidence—shipping logs, scales, anything that could provide more clues. 

The rhythmic clatter of boots caught your attention, accompanied by the occasional murmur of voices. You and Yunho exchanged a tense glance, your senses on high alert. The footsteps were heavy and deliberate, suggesting a group of staff members making their rounds. The jingle of keys and the creak of a nearby door opening added to the tension. You could hear the faint rustle of clothing and the occasional cough, indicating their proximity.

Your heart raced as you motioned for Yunho to stay quiet, your finger pressed to your lips. You both pressed yourselves against the container, trying to blend into the shadows. The footsteps grew louder, and you could see the beam of a flashlight sweeping across the room.

“Looks like the latest shipment has already been taken down to the lab for processing.”

“Yeah, I saw the transport teams moving those dragons earlier,” the second guard replied, his tone carrying a hint of unease. “It’s a lot of dragons to handle all at once.”

“Tell me about it,” the first staff member replied. “Heard they’re prepping them for some new kind of project.”

The second guard’s brow furrowed. “A new project? With the kids?”

The mention of “kids” made your heart skip a beat. You and Yunho exchanged worried glances, fully grasping the gravity of the situation. Your muscles tensed as the light crept closer to your hiding spot, casting ominous shadows where you crouched. 

As the guards’ conversation began to drift away, the sound of their boots grew fainter. The flashlight beam pulled back, casting fewer shadows in the immediate area. You and Yunho remained motionless, barely daring to breathe as the footsteps receded into the distance. The door creaked shut behind them, its sound echoing with a finality that left both of you trembling in the aftermath.

You waited a few more seconds to ensure the coast was clear before slowly easing out of your hiding spot. Your pulse was still racing, and Yunho’s expression mirrored your own, both of you silently grappling with the disturbing implications of what you had overheard. His eyes met yours, filled with urgency and determination. 

“We need to move quickly before they come back.”

Nodding, you both began to move, your footsteps as silent as you could manage, the need for speed warring with the necessity of stealth. The close call had left you both on edge, every sound and shadow now seeming like a potential threat. 

Yeosang’s gaze remained fixed on the monitors as he watched you and Yunho track the trail of scorch marks leading out to the loading docks. The tension in the room was palpable, but Yeosang remained unnervingly calm, his mind already churning with possibilities.

“We need to stop them!” Minjae’s voice broke through the tense silence, his tone laced with urgency. He moved toward the controls, but Yeosang calmly raised a hand, silencing his assistant with a single, measured gesture. Minjae hesitated, his eyes darting between the monitors and Yeosang, clearly struggling to understand why they weren’t intervening.

“No.” Yeosang’s voice was cold and calculating, a stark contrast to Minjae’s frantic energy. He turned slowly, his gaze settling on the massive incubation tube dominating the room behind him. The dragon inside was suspended in a thick, translucent liquid, its enormous form outlined in an eerie, otherworldly glow. The creature was still, its eyes closed, its breath slow and even, as if lost in a deep, dreamless sleep.

For a moment, Yeosang studied the dragon, his expression unreadable. The beast was a marvel of bioengineering, a living weapon with untapped potential. “Tell me…How was the last trial?” his voice was smooth but laced with an underlying tension.

“The candidate exhibited a high level of initial compatibility. However, as the process progressed, there were significant issues. We observed severe neural disruptions, and the subject experienced extreme mental strain.”

He eyed the neural interface, the console lying abandoned next to the incubation tube. “And the candidate?”

Minjae shifted uneasily. “The candidate was stabilized, but the mental strain left lasting effects. They experienced severe psychological trauma, and recovery is ongoing.”

Yeosang’s lips curled into a faint, inscrutable smile as his attention shifted back to the screens. Your every move with Yunho was reflected in his glasses, casting a cold, blue light across his face. “The search continues. But perhaps…”

He watched intently as you both navigated the maze of shipping containers, his eyes narrowing with interest. The determination in your movements was unmistakable as you and Yunho pieced together the dark secrets hidden within the facility. 

“The right candidate is closer than we think.” 

<< x | xii >>

taglist: @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @maliamaiden @signingsongbird

away with the wind | daylight

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: a spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 6.1K Warnings: not proofread, fluff-ish? alcohol consumption

a/n: version 2 of chapter ix

Fic Masterlist

The grand chamber was dimly lit, the only sources of light being the flickering holographic displays and the soft glow of the council members’ robes. The air was thick with anticipation as the council awaited the presentation.

“Ready whenever you are, Dr. Kang,” Lord Hong announced, his voice resonating through the chamber.

Yeosang, standing beside the holographic projector, bowed respectfully. He took a moment to adjust the hologram, ensuring every detail of Ajax’s anatomy was perfectly visible. The room fell silent as the intricate projection came to life, displaying the necropsy report for Subject 4201.

“Necropsy report for Subject 4201. Subject is a male, approximately 11 years old, measuring 20 feet in height with a wingspan of 40 feet. Initial examination reveals extensive claw marks along the dorsal scales, likely from recent combat.”

Yeosang zoomed in on the damage inflicted by Starshine during the Inferno Cup. Lady Lee brought her hand to her mouth in feigned horror, prompting Yeosang to roll his eyes at her theatrics. He then brought up the next holographic display.

Swiping over to the dragon’s head, Yeosang brought forward the manifestation of Ajax’s brain, enhancing the size of the organ for the Council’s scrutiny. 

“The brain shows signs of abnormal growth in the amygdala, the region associated with aggression and fear responses. This hypertrophy suggests heightened aggression and unstable behavior. Further examination of the neural pathways reveals signs of synaptic plasticity, which may indicate a history of adaptive responses to high-stress environments. This could result in unpredictable and erratic behavior patterns.”

“Is this a common trait in Longhorns, Dr. Kang?” Lord Kim interjected.

Yeosang maintained his composed demeanor, though he felt slightly irritated at Lord Kim’s prodding. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he ensured his tone remained respectful yet authoritative. 

“While hypertrophy in the amygdala is not uncommon in Longhorns, the extent of the growth observed here is unusual,” he explained, his voice steady. “Further studies are necessary to determine if this is an isolated case or indicative of a broader trend within the species.”

Lord Kim nodded, the soft rustle of his robes barely audible as he leaned back in his chair. Yeosang then moved on to the next hologram, which flickered to life, casting a light that manifested into Ajax above their heads.

“In summary, subject 4201 exhibits significant physiological power and complexity,” Yeosang began, his voice steady and clear. The hologram displayed intricate details of the dragon’s anatomy, each scale and muscle rendered with precision. “I’ve concluded that the observed unpredictable behavior indicates potential neurological instability. End of report.”

Chairman Jang’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, the light catching the sharp angles of his face. “And the report of parentage?” he asked.

Yeosang adjusted the hologram, bringing up a new set of data. “The DNA test results showed no significant anomalies, your grace. The dragon’s genetic makeup is consistent with what we have documented in our archives. There are no indications of any unusual lineage or mutations.”

Lord Kim studied him for a moment, his gaze penetrating. “Are you certain, Dr. Kang? This information is crucial to understanding where this Longhorn may have originated from.”

Yeosang nodded, maintaining his calm facade. “Yes, your grace. I am certain. The DNA results confirm that this dragon is of standard lineage.”

“Lord Kim, we have all the information we need. Continuing this investigation is a waste of our resources and time,” Lady Lee snapped, her voice sharp and echoing slightly in the grand council room.

“We need to be thorough,” Lord Kim insisted, his tone unwavering. The flickering light from the hologram cast shadows across his stern face, highlighting the furrow in his brow.

“The dragon’s physiology and neurological state are well-documented. We have other priorities that demand our attention,” she countered, her words heavy with urgency.

Lord Hong nodded in agreement, the soft rustle of his robes breaking the silence. “Lady Lee is right. We are diverting valuable time and effort. This report should be concluded.” His voice was measured, a stark contrast to the rising tension between his colleagues.

“If Dr. Kang has reported no abnormalities in his findings, then we must move on to the next agenda item,” Chairman Jang interjected with finality. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Kang.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved conflict. Yeosang remained silent, grateful that the focus had shifted away from his lie, but acutely aware of the brewing storm between the Council members.

“Would it be possible for the copies of the report to be made available, Dr. Kang?” Lord Kim interjected, his eyes boring into Yeosang, challenging him to reveal the truth.

Yeosang hesitated, his fingers trembling slightly as he adjusted his glasses. “The report is rather unremarkable, your grace,” he replied coldly, staring straight at the elder.

Lord Hong’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem, Dr. Kang? The Council has a right to see the report.”

Yeosang tightened his jaw, feeling the tension ripple through his muscles as the Council’s insistence caught him off guard. His irritation simmered just beneath the surface, barely contained.

“Of course, I will ensure the report is made available,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with false sincerity, masking the venom beneath. “I just need a little more time to… finalize some details.”

“Finalize what details? Are you implying that this report today was not conclusive?” Lord Kim’s voice was cold and unyielding, each word a deliberate challenge.

Yeosang’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but he quickly masked it with a calm facade. “I assure you, Lord Kim, the report is thorough. However, there are always minor adjustments to be made for clarity.”

Kim Sangjoong’s gaze hardened, his suspicion evident. “Minor adjustments? Or are you buying time to cover up discrepancies, Dr. Kang?”

“That’s enough,” Chairman Jang’s voice concluded, the tone unmistakable, leaving no room for argument. “Dr. Kang, you have until the end of the day to produce copies of the report to the Council.”

Yeosang felt a surge of anger but forced a smile. “I understand your concern, Lord Kim. Rest assured, the report will be delivered by the end of the day, as requested.” His tone was polite, but the underlying threat was present.

The room remained tense, the air thick with unspoken conflict. Yeosang knew he had to tread carefully, but he relished the challenge.

Seonghwa strode through the hallways of the Park estate, his footsteps echoing off the marble floors as he awaited the results of Ajax’s necropsy from Kim Sangjoong. The grandeur of the estate, with its high ceilings and ornate decorations, did little to calm his racing thoughts.

“Ms. Jang,” he called out, his voice calm yet authoritative. His mother’s assistant looked up from her desk, immediately recognizing him. She adjusted her glasses and gave him a polite nod.

“Yes, your grace?” she asked, her tone respectful but familiar.

“I need a list of all the attendees from the Inferno Gala,” he requested, his eyes scanning the room. “Sponsors, stakeholders, riders—everything.”

Ms. Jang nodded and quickly began typing on her laptop. The soft clacking of keys filled the room as Seonghwa paced back and forth, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He glanced at the clock on the wall, each tick amplifying his impatience.

After a few moments, Ms. Jang handed him a sleek tablet. “Here it is, your grace,” she said. “The complete list.”

Seonghwa took the tablet and offered her a small smile in thanks. As he walked back to his quarters, he scanned the names, noting familiar faces and new ones, the organizations they represented, and the teams they raced for. Each name brought back memories of conversations, deals, and promises made. He needed to ensure that every attendee was accounted for and that no detail was overlooked.

“Treasure Holdings, Blue Bird Airways, Answer Tech,” Seonghwa muttered to himself, activating the hologram interface. These were big name sponsors in dragon racing and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

He swiped to the next category of Aurora’s political elite, scanning the list with a practiced eye. Names like Lady Baek and Lord Yoon stood out, both well-known figures in the political landscape. As he continued down the list, he reached members of the Council and their guests. Lord Hong Bum Soo and Lady Hong Sara, Chairman Jang Ki Young, Lord Kim Sangjoong and Lady Kim Miyeon–

She was never one to miss an event, especially one of this magnitude. He quickly re-scanned the rest of the list, hoping it was a mistake, but her name was nowhere to be found. Had she been deliberately excluded?

Lady Lee’s absence was not just unusual—it was a glaring anomaly. Taking out his phone, he dialed Kim Sangjoong, hoping for news of the necropsy report. The phone rang a few times before Lord Kim answered. “Seonghwa, what’s the matter?”

“I have news for you, should you have any to share with me,” Seonghwa said, his tone measured.

The elder chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I regret to inform you that the report returned without any anomalies. It was conclusive, indicating that the dragon is of standard lineage.”

“That can’t be,” Seonghwa said, his voice laced with disbelief. “Y/N showed me Ajax’s anatomy in video footage a few months ago. She noted that his angulation was much more moderate than a Longhorn’s, and his wings were longer. He also exhibited an unusual level of speed and agility.”

The elder’s eyes widened slightly. “That does sound…unnatural for the breed…” He paused, his gaze drifting out the large, arched window of his office. He noticed Lady Lee in conversation with a young lab assistant, her animated gestures contrasting with the assistant’s calm demeanor.

“Your grace?” Seonghwa’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Yes, apologies. Please continue.”

“I wanted to let you know that I pulled the guest list from the gala and noticed that Lady Lee was missing.”

The elder’s brow furrowed in concern. “That’s certainly odd. She never turns down an opportunity for an event given her rather…vainglorious nature. Her absence is highly unusual.” Lord Kim glanced at the ornate clock on the wall, noting the late hour. If he were to leave now, it would be an opportunity to learn more about Lady Lee’s next moves.

“It seems Lady Lee is just about to leave for the day,” Lord Kim informed the younger. “Thank you for the information, Seonghwa.” He quickly pocketed his phone and hurried towards the exit, his mind racing with possibilities. The corridors of the capitol building were beginning to empty as the day drew to a close, and he needed to act fast.

The soft murmur of conversations and the shuffle of footsteps filled the air, creating a symphony of end-of-day activity. The tension in the air was palpable, each step Lord Kim took echoing his urgency.

“Ah, Lady Lee! Will you be attending General Choi’s birthday celebration?” he called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, and scaring the lab assistant. The young man, not much older than 20, bowed before taking his leave. 

Lady Lee paled, her confident demeanor faltering for a moment. “O-Oh? Is that this weekend?” she stammered, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. She forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I must have overlooked it. I’ve been quite busy with…personal matters,” Lady Lee said, her voice wavering slightly.

“Personal matters?” Lord Kim pressed, his curiosity piqued. “Well, I hope everything is alright.”

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “Yes, well, it’s nothing that concerns the council.”

Lord Kim nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. “I see. Well, I do hope you’ll make it to the celebration. Miyeon and I look forward to seeing you.”

“Thank you, Lord Kim. I appreciate your concern,” she replied, her voice steadying. 

As Lady Lee turned to leave, Lord Kim watched her closely. There was something off about her behavior, something that didn’t sit right with him. Her usually confident demeanor seemed strained, and her eyes darted around nervously. His mind raced with questions, each one more urgent than the last. What was she hiding? And why did it feel like time was running out?

[NEW MESSAGE]

[Lord Cash Money]: Results are in 

[Lord Cash Money]: Nothing out of standard

You let out a huff as you read Seonghwa’s message and sent back a quick ‘Thanks’. Dismounting Cirrus, you felt the cool leather of the saddle beneath your hands, but an uneasy feeling settled in your chest. You knew Ajax was definitely not half Fury, but something else entirely. The thought sent a chill down your spine at the implications of what his other half might be.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manor as you helped Sohee down from the saddle. You slung her backpack over your shoulder, the weight a familiar comfort, and dialed the only person you knew you could vent to besides your grandmother and sister.

“I hate the government,” you said, balancing your phone between your shoulder and ear while you toed off your shoes and hung up your niece’s backpack. The scent of oil pastels and dragon scales lingered in the air.

“Who doesn’t?” Jongho’s voice came through the line, gruff yet playful. You could almost picture his mischievous grin. What’s going on?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of curiosity and concern.

Choi Jongho was the oldest son of the Dune Choi Family and cousin to the Auroran Choi Family. Although they were considered one of Dune’s noble houses, your families had been breeding partners for as long as your grandmother could remember.

Jongho had always been like a little brother to you, his presence a constant in your life—a mix of annoyance and comfort that only a true sibling could provide. His sharp wit and the shared history between your families created a connection that was unbreakable, no matter how much he might drive you crazy at times.

“The test results came back conclusive. There’s nothing out of the ordinary with Ajax’s lineage.”

“Bullshit,” Jongho snapped, pacing his room. “I watched the footage you sent me, read through the pedigree, and everything seemed off. Someone’s tampering with the results.”

You nodded, frustration evident. “Exactly. I’m thinking there has to be something more nefarious in his lineage. Ajax has always been promoted as a hybrid between a Fury and a Longhorn, but I don’t think a Fury fits the bill. It has to be a breed that’s aerodynamic.”

Jongho furrowed his brow. “Aerodynamic, huh? That narrows it down a bit. Maybe something with a sleeker build? A Wyrm variant? Or a Razorback?”

You snickered. “Hongjoong is going to have your head if he hears that. But even those breeds don’t seem quite right. There has to be one that’s also intelligent. Ajax was somehow able to learn Cirrus’ maneuvers, and I know for a fact Mingi couldn’t have taught him that flip.”

Jongho sighed, massaging his brow. “I’ve always told you I didn’t like him nor his ugly dragon. I plan to set up shop in my uncle’s library and we can dig deeper when I’m in town. You’re coming to his celebration, right?”

You groaned, pulling your pillow to your chest. “Do I have a choice?”

“If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone you think San is handsome.”

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, “San is handsome. That doesn’t work on me anymore.”

Jongho smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Fine, then I’ll tell everyone about the time you fell into the fountain trying to impress him.”

You gasped, sitting up abruptly. “Choi Jongho, you wouldn’t dare!”

The grand hall of the Choi Estate was a sight to behold, a testament to the family’s wealth and status. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the family’s storied history, their vibrant colors and detailed embroidery telling tales of valor and honor. The atmosphere was one of celebration and reverence, as friends and family gathered to honor the Choi patriarch on his special day.

San’s father, the elder General Choi, greeted guests up and down the hall, offering glass after glass of champagne and other spirits. His laughter boomed through the room, a testament to his larger-than-life personality. You managed to dodge him, offering your grandmother as a sacrificial lamb as you slipped away, her knowing smile indicating she was more than willing to take one for the team.

You weaved through the crowd, feeling a bit out of place in your simple but elegant strapless black gown. Its understated design contrasted with the more extravagant attire around you, yet the gown’s classic cut and the way it hugged your figure made you feel confident and poised.

“Are you here for a funeral or a celebration?” a familiar voice quipped behind you.

You whipped around to find San, clad in a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and imposing presence. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk as he took in your startled reaction.

“Very funny,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “I was just trying to avoid your father’s relentless hospitality.”

San chuckled, his laughter a deep, comforting sound. “He does have a way of overwhelming people with his enthusiasm,” he admitted, glancing over at his father, who was now engaged in a hearty conversation with a group of military officials. “Looking for someone?”

“It's no one important,” you murmured, your eyes drifting away from the young General. You scanned the crowd, your heart pounding as you searched for a certain someone. Striking, charming, refined, and utterly infuriating, with an undeniable pull—a magnetic attraction you couldn’t ignore.

“Am I not important to you?” San tilted his head, giving you a sly smile.

“You are, but you're not who I'm looking for,” you scoffed, hitting his arm playfully. 

San brought his hand to his chest, feigning a dramatic gasp. “And here I thought I was unforgettable.”

“You are, just not in the way you think.”

“Ah, so there is someone else! Now I’m intrigued.”

As Seonghwa watched you and San together, a mix of emotions flooded his mind. On one hand, he was happy to see you enjoying yourself, but on the other, he couldn't shake off the feeling of jealousy that consumed him. He knew it was irrational and unfair, but the sight of you with someone else rattled him in ways he didn't understand. 

With determination in his step, he approached you, his presence catching you off guard as his hand wrapped around your waist resting on the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver coursing down your spine.

“General,” Seonghwa greeted San with a nod, his voice steady despite the tempest raging within. His eyes, however, flashed with a brief, intense possessiveness, a silent claim that spoke volumes.

“Lord Park,” San replied, his gaze sharp with curiosity and a hint of amusement, completely oblivious to Seonghwa’s hostility.

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched San’s lingering gaze. Leaning in closer, he brushed against your ear as he whispered, never breaking eye contact with San. “Dance with me?” His voice was soft, yet it carried an undeniable command.

San, gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes in response, a faint smile touching your lips as you took Seonghwa's hand.  The soft strains of the music enveloped you both, creating an intimate atmosphere. Seonghwa’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if to remind you—and San—of his presence while guiding you with a natural grace. Your free hand found its way to his shoulder, while his other hand held yours, fingers entwined.

“Have I ever mentioned how impulsive you are?” you teased softly, toying with the lapel of his jacket. The smooth fabric felt like a stark contrast to the tension hanging in the air.

“Maybe,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. His eyes, however, were serious, as if he was weighing his next words carefully. “There’s something I forgot to mention the other day.” 

“Hm?” you responded, curiosity piqued, your eyes meeting his with a questioning look.

“Lady Lee was absent on the night of the gala.” Your furrowed your brows at Seonghwa’s revelation. “What do you mean?”

“I pulled the guest list of every single attendee from that night, and she was the only Council member missing from the list. I asked Lord Kim about it, and he thought it was odd as well,” Seonghwa explained, his tone serious, eyes dark with concern. The weight of his words settled heavily between you.

“You think she’s connected?” you asked, your mind racing with possibilities, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. 

“I didn’t get a chance to ask, he hung up on me while trying to flag her down,” Seonghwa pouted slightly. No one hangs up on Park Seonghwa, not even his mentor. You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of Hongjoong’s father abruptly ending the call with Seonghwa, his slack jawed expression vivid in your mind. His flair for dramatics always added a touch of humor to your interactions, making him all the more endearing.

“I suppose you should follow up with him. Fortunately for me, I’ll be enjoying the festivities tonight,” you sighed. “San owes me a drink after I bet that Jongho wouldn’t last an hour without trying to sell someone a dragon.”

Seonghwa’s expression shifted, a hint of disapproval in his eyes. “You and Choi San?” he remarked, his voice carrying a slight bitterness. You nodded, “I’ve known him since we were kids, he’s a packaged deal with Jongho. You know, with the whole breeding House partnership thing.”

“I suppose he possesses a certain charm, but his intellect leaves much to be desired.”

“Don’t be rude! San is my friend,” you retorted, a sharp edge to your laughter. “And if not San, who, pray tell, would you have me spend my time with, Lord Park?”

Seonghwa’s lips curved into a half-smile, mischief glinting in his eyes. “Someone who can match your wit,” he proposed, his fingers drawing patterns on your spine.

“Someone like…you?” you challenged, your grin daring him to deny it. His laughter was low and velvety, a sound that seemed to wrap around you like a cool embrace. He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he brushed his lips against your temple. 

“Perhaps,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice a tantalizing whisper. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

The music slowly faded, signaling the end of the dance and the appearance of Song Tae Gyu. The room fell silent as the Song patriarch entered, the grand hall, once filled with lively chatter and laughter, now buzzed with hushed whispers. Snippets of conversation about “Mingi,” “the Council,” and “unstable dragon” floated through the air like a dark cloud.

“Song Tae Gyu has some nerve showing up after what his son pulled,” Jongho sneered, his gaze fixed on Mingi’s father with a stone-cold expression as he approached you and Seonghwa on the dance floor. Ever the purist, Jongho’s disdain was palpable. You could almost feel the weight of his contempt for the way the Songs had let their son disgrace their house and the sanctity of dragon racing.

“He’s simply carrying out his duties to my father,” San reminded his cousin, his voice composed despite the discomfort evident in his body language. He glanced around the room, noting the wary eyes and cautious glances directed at Song Tae Gyu. “I know the Songs feel terrible about the incident, but as a vassal House, they have their obligations.”

San’s words were measured, but you could sense the underlying tension. The incident with Mingi had cast a momentary shadow over the evening, and the presence of Song Tae Gyu only served to deepen the unease. 

“Ah, Tae Gyu! So glad you could make it!” the elder General Choi exclaimed, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I was just telling everyone about the time you and I got lost in the ravine and had to spend the night in a cave. Remember that?”

The room erupted in laughter as Lord Choi recounted the tale with exaggerated gestures, painting a vivid picture of their misadventure. Even Song Tae Gyu managed a small, grateful smile, the worry lines on his face softening.

Jongho rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at his lips. He took a sip from his glass, the warm liquid sliding down his throat as he mulled over his father's words. "Your father always knows how to lighten the mood," he muttered to San before turning to face you, swirling his empty glass in a playful gesture.

“So,” he drawls, “Are you still F/N L/N or Park F/N–” Both you and Seonghwa exchange flustered glances, your denials overlapping.

“There’s nothing between us!” Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves.

“Absolutely nothing!” Seonghwa added, his voice a pitch higher than usual, nodding vigorously. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks like he might combust from the sheer embarrassment.

“Oh, come on,” Jongho teased, “You two are practically glowing,” He winks, knocking back the rest of his drink with a satisfied smirk. You groaned, burying your face in your hands, while Seonghwa prayed for the ground to open and swallow him whole. Jongho’s laughter echoed around the room, clearly enjoying every moment of your shared embarrassment. “I’ll be around tomorrow if you want to dig through the records. I’m sure we’ll find something on that wannabe Longhorn.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, just bullshitting.”

“No! About the wannabe part.”

The mention of the word "wannabe" caught your attention like a firework exploding in your mind. You could feel your heart racing as you frantically searched your knowledge for any clues about this breed.

Wannabe… Imitation… Copy… The word echoed in your mind, reverberating with increasing intensity. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart began to race as you frantically sifted through your mental catalog of dragon breeds and their levels of intelligence.

Dreamwood Ridgeback, biddable with high emotional intellect… Cascade Wyvern, alert and confident… Star Fury, fiercely intelligent but too rare… Nettled…

A sudden realization hit you like a bolt of lightning. You turned sharply to face San, your eyes widening with urgency and determination. "Do you have a copy of a breed encyclopedia?" You could almost feel the gears turning in your head, piecing together the clues and making connections. It was all starting to make sense now.

San looked momentarily puzzled, his brow furrowing as he tried to process your sudden question. Before he could respond, Jongho stepped in with a confident grin. “Of course they do, I left one here to read during summers,” he said, patting San’s shoulder in a playful yet slightly condescending manner, acknowledging his older cousin’s limited mental acuity.

“Longhorns aren’t meant to be particularly intelligent,” you began, your voice steady but urgent. “But if Ajax was able to learn Cirrus’ maneuvers, there could only be one breed that matches the description.”

The four of you exchanged tense looks, the weight of the mystery pressing down on you. Without another word, you all turned and rushed out of the hall, each step bringing you closer to uncovering the truth.

Jongho traipsed around the library, pulling out books and peeking through every nook and cranny, his determination to locate the beloved encyclopedia was almost comical. Meanwhile, you took your time, your fingers trailing over the spines of novels that drew your interest—classic literature rich with love and loss and fantasies brimming with epic adventures of dragon riders from the past.

Seonghwa matched your stride on the opposite side of the bookshelf as you wandered through the maze of books, the soft patter of your footsteps echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings. He glanced at the spines of the books you passed, his fingers lightly brushing against the aged covers, intrigued by the types of stories that captured your attention.  

“A little help here,” Jongho grumbled from a nearby aisle, hopping up to get a better look at the upper shelves. You pouted, reluctantly placing the book you had been holding back on the shelf as you moved to assist him. Dust puffed out as you rummaged through the shelves, swatting away at the air as the particles ticked your throat. 

“When was the last time they dusted the shelves?” you coughed, moving to a particularly shadowed section of the library, where the books seemed older, their covers cracked and worn with age. “What does it look like?”

“The title is on the spine, Y/N,” Jongho replied, his voice echoing softly in the vast, silent room.“It must be here somewhere,” he muttered to himself, peering at the book spines with a frustrated expression. 

Taking off your heels and hoisting the skirt of your gown, you climbed onto a nearby ladder, the dim light making it difficult to read the titles, but you persisted. Finally, your eyes fell on a slightly worn book with the words “Encyclopedia” embossed on the spine in gold leaf, barely visible through the grime. “Here it is!” you exclaimed, carefully pulling the book from its resting place.

As you began your descent, you focused solely on your footing, ensuring each step was steady and secure. Finally, your feet touched the ground, and Seonghwa and San rushed over, Seonghwa reaching out to steady you, his hand warm and reassuring on your arm.

Seonghwa exhaled deeply, relief evident in his eyes. “I’m glad you made it down safely.”

"Would you have caught me if I fell?" You met his gaze with a mischievous grin. 

“Do you want to test that theory?”

San cleared his throat awkwardly as Jongho strolled over, visibly cringing at your banter with Seonghwa. His eyes flicked to the book clutched to your chest, its yellowed pages and intricately embossed gold cover hinting at its long history. “That’s the one,” he confirmed, reaching out momentarily to scold you for holding the book so carelessly. 

“Let’s see where you’re hiding, mimic,” you muttered to yourself as you wandered off, leafing through the contents of the heavy book without much care. The weight of the tome made your arms ache slightly, and the pages, thick and slightly brittle with age, rustled softly as you flipped through them. Jongho quickly trailed behind you, his expression turning serious. 

“Don’t turn the pages so quickly!” he warned. “You’re going to damage them!”

You sank into one of the rarely used loveseats, your fingers trembled slightly as you flipped through the pages, each one filled with intricate illustrations and detailed descriptions of various dragon breeds. A sense of awe washed over you as you read through breeds, old and new—each more fascinating than the last. As you continued, your anticipation grew, until finally, your eyes landed on the page you were searching for. 

You studied the avian-looking dragon. Its sleek, streamlined body was adorned with grotesque feathers hanging from its gangly, mismatched wings. The large, bug-like eyes bulged with an eerie intelligence, giving the dragon an almost alien appearance. They stared back at you with a knowing, unsettling awareness. Its sharp, curved beak-like snout added to its avian resemblance, but instead of elegance, it exuded menace and predatory intent, as if ready to strike at any moment.

“Found you,” you whispered, a triumphant smile spreading across your face. Your mind raced with the implications of this discovery, the pieces of the puzzle finally coming together. You shut the book with a deep, resonant thud that echoed softly in the space and leaned your head back against the cushions. Thoughts of your job at the Institute surfaced; the resources and access you had there could be invaluable for digging deeper into the investigation and revealing the truth about Ajax and even Lady Lee.

Your eyes grew heavy as the day’s events blurred together, allowing sleep to slowly overtake you. Your mind wandered to the grand hall, where you danced with Seonghwa. The memory of his warm hand in yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race, filled your thoughts. The closeness of his body, the heat radiating between you, and the subtle, teasing brush of his lips near your ear as he whispered something only you could hear, left you wanting more.

But then, the unsettling gaze of the Kuku intruded, shattering the fragile bubble of your reverie. The contrast between the warmth of Seonghwa’s embrace and the cold, piercing stare of the Kuku was stark, leaving you with a lingering sense of unease.

In your peaceful state, the hushed sound of footsteps and rustling fabric barely registered in your mind. An intoxicating and alluring scent filled your senses, drawing you back to consciousness as a jacket was draped over your form with care. Its gentle warmth offered relief against the icy fingers tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The touch was tender, almost reverent, as if they were afraid to wake you but couldn’t resist the urge to be near.

The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would come next as your eyes fluttered open, the only source of light being the silvery beams of moonlight filling the library. You blink a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and then you realize something: your head is resting on someone’s shoulder.

Your heart skips a beat as you recognize the familiar scent. Seonghwa. You must have dozed off after reading, and now here you are, nestled against him, his jacket covering your form. The fabric is soft and comforting, and you instinctively nuzzle into it, savoring the warmth and the faint scent of him that lingers on it.

You lift your head slowly, trying not to disturb him. His face, peaceful and relaxed, comes into view. He stirs slightly, his half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he turns to face you.

“Did ya sleep well?” he murmured, voice thick with drowsiness. Gods, you wanted to do something to that beautiful face of his.

“Didn’t mean to use your shoulder as a pillow.”

“S’alright,” he stretches, offering you a lazy smile. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.”

“No kidding,” you chuckled, “Still I should be careful. Don’t want to cause a scandal by falling asleep in public places.”

“Whatever do you mean, Park Seonghwa’s Mystery Woman?”

You laugh softly, recalling the headlines that painted you as a fleeting chapter in his life. “I’m not interested in becoming a tabloid sensation.”

Seonghwa nodded, feeling a little guilty of what he put you through during the early days of your coaching. A silence falls between you, the intimacy of the conversation giving way to a more reflective mood. You glance down at the encyclopedia resting on the table, your thoughts shifting.

“I’m…thinking of going back to the Institute,” you finally say. “I think I’ve figured out Ajax’s missing half but I don’t think our case against the necropsy will be very effective if I don’t have access to all the necessary resources.” 

Seonghwa’s expression softens as he listens, his eyes filled with understanding and support. He leans in slightly, his gaze reassuring. “I get it,” he says gently, his voice steady. 

“You do?” you ask, surprised, your eyebrows raising slightly.

He nods, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. “This whole situation has been dragging on for too long, even if what we’re doing is…illegal. I’m tired of the bureaucracy and need to go back to doing what I do best.” 

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, grateful for his understanding and support. You leaned back, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease. After a few moments, you lifted your head slightly and looked at him.

“Do you want to stay a little longer?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa didn’t say a word. Instead, he shifted slightly, making more room for you to lean back against him. You settled in, your head resting on his shoulder once more, and closed your eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

<< viii | twilight | x >>

taglist: @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias

OKAY OKAY OKAY GAH DAMN DO I LOVE ME SOME STRONG REVENGE PLOT POINT???

spinal injury whew and it was mingi who lost his spine. (shakes head). what an asshole you must be to romance the person who is taking care of the PERSON YOU ALMOST STITCHED UP THE MARRIED DREAMS WITH? i say bring 100 ajax on him.

seonghwa's character OKAY OKAY pfw!hwa too ingrained in my head i cant see the meanie in him.

PROMISING LORE AND BUILDUP I LIKE ITTT

away with the wind | i

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” word count: 4.2K

Fic Masterlist

It was a freak accident.

You vividly recall rounding the bend with Cirrus, attempting to cut off Lee Jihoon, who was in close pursuit on the skyway. But your calculations went awry—Cirrus’ wings clipped a rocky outcrop. The dragon spiraled out of control, flailing, and your grip slipped as your foot caught on the stirrup. You barely had time to process what would happen next when your body collided with the cliff edge.

It wasn’t her fault. You were the pilot; you should have known better.

Pain exploded through your body, gasping for air, unable to move. Bone-crushing agony tore through you. Cirrus circled back, eyes wide with panic, but you couldn’t reach out to reassure her.

Other racers thundered past, oblivious to your plight.

Blood filled your mouth, your cheek pressed against the jagged outcrop. Tears welled up—not from the pain, but from the realization that your racing days were over.

Over. The end. Your dreams of flight grounded forever.

You tried to call out for help, but your breath hitched, caught in your throat like a thorn. The racetrack blurred, and you could hear Cirrus’ cries. She was desperate for anyone to find you. 

You wanted to succumb to the darkness. At this point, you welcome Death to guide you to eternal sleep, far away from the fact that your wings had been taken from you.

Two Years Later

The Auroran Institute for Dragonology buzzed with activity. Researchers hurried past your office, their hushed voices blending into a symphony of curiosity and urgency.

“He’s looking for a new dragon. It has to be from an exceptional lineage,” you overheard someone whisper, waiting for your kettle to go off.

You sat in your office, the door wide open to comply with the department head’s “open door policy”—a policy set by the eccentric, cheery, and exhaustingly loud Jung Wooyoung.

You knew a thing or two about exceptional lineages. Your family had bred Dreamwood Ridgebacks since time immemorial, with Cirrus being the very first dragon you bred on your own.

Who was looking for a new dragon?

After the accident, retirement came swiftly, along with the end of your engagement.

The council honored you with an award of merit—mostly out of pity, you thought. But perhaps it was also because you hailed from House L/N, a respected breeding House for producing one of the oldest lines of dragons known to humanity. No one wanted to draw the ire of your grandmother, the matriarch of House L/N.

And of your engagement?

The hospital had become a second home for you after your injury. The long hours of rehabilitation and therapy were grueling, but you were determined to regain as much independence as possible.

The impact on your ability to ride was immediate and devastating and meant you could no longer mount Cirrus with the same ease or control. The pain reduced mobility and made it nearly impossible to maintain the balance and coordination needed for riding. 

And while you felt like your world was spinning out of control, one thing remained constant--Mingi.

He stopped by everyday, offering support and encouragement, bringing you food, flowers, and news of the outside world. Despite his commitment to the racing grounds, he always made time for you.

At least for the first few months.

"The nurse says your recovery hasn't been progressing as quickly as doctors would like."

"What the fuck does the nurse know?"

"We've been talking about your treatment. It's just that your body is taking a lot longer to heal compared to others."

"I broke my fucking spine, Mingi. Of course it's going to take time to heal! It controls my entire nervous system! My body won’t ever be the same.”

"I know. I'm concerned about your progress, that’s all. I want you to get better. I really do," he says quietly, reaching out for your hand. You entwine your fingers in his, giving him a slight squeeze.

It’s a constant reminder of the possibility that he might slip away. The fear gnaws at you, making your heart ache. You can’t help but wonder if his concern for you is genuine or if it’s out of obligation. The uncertainty is unbearable, but you hold on tighter, hoping that your grip can somehow keep him close.

The physical pain was intense, but the emotional toll was even greater. Conversations that once flowed effortlessly now felt stilted.

You had always trusted Mingi implicitly, but lately, something felt off. It started with the small things—his visits were more frequent but rushed. The faint scent of an unfamiliar perfume lingered on his clothes, mixing in with the smoke and musk of the training grounds.

He seemed distracted, often lost in thought. As if he were waiting for something. Someone. The tension between the both of you grew, and your once strong bond began to fray. It was as if he was physically present but emotionally distant, a ghost of the person you once knew.

“How’s physical therapy going?” he asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

“I’m taking it one day at a time. At least I’ve graduated to crutches,” you shrug, trying to inject some lightness into the conversation.

“You were supposed to be on crutches a month ago,” he replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

You roll your eyes. “Who says?”

“Jia,” he answered, almost too quickly.

“I didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the nurse,” you retorted with a pout. 

"We just want to help–” he began, but you cut him off. Your face drops. “We?"

“As your fiancé and caregiver. That’s all,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. He kissed your forehead and got ready to leave for the day, his movements hurried and tense.

You thought you were losing it. You questioned everything—your relationship with Mingi, your judgment, and even your own worth. These thoughts gnawed at you, eroding your self-esteem. The uncertainty was suffocating, and you felt trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and fear.

You decide some fresh air would do you good.

You hobble along, crutches clicking rhythmically against the ground. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the hospital's courtyard.  Rounding the corner, you spotted two familiar figures sitting on a bench.

Their heads were close together, laughing softly. You hadn’t expected to see them here, especially not Mingi since he was supposed to be training for an upcoming race. The sight of them sharing such an intimate moment made you feel like an intruder.

You replayed every interaction, every moment of doubt you had brushed aside, and it fueled your rage. Yet, beneath the anger, there was a deep sadness.

Mingi looked up and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw you. He quickly stood up, a guilty expression crossing his face. Jia followed his gaze and her smile faltered.

Your breath started to come in short, rapid gasps, and you felt a tightness in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The world seemed to blur, the edges of your vision darkening as you struggled to focus. You didn't welcome this feeling like you did Death.

"Y/N!"

Tears streamed down your face, but you barely noticed them. In the midst of your panic, you heard Mingi, calling out for you. But you couldn’t respond. Trembling and gasping for air, you hoped that the storm inside would eventually pass.

"Cirrus. Cirrus, help me," you sob, clutching your chest as you called for your dragon.

The emotional connection between dragon and rider was unbreakable, forged through years of trust and companionship. Even from the caverns of your family’s estate, Cirrus could sense your anguish. The telepathic bond between you and your dragon was strong, allowing her to feel your fear and pain as if it were her own. She whimpered, her massive form shifting restlessly as she desperately tried to find a way to get to you. 

Mingi stood in the doorway of your hospital room, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. Guilt etched across his face as he met your gaze.

“What is it?” Your rasped, your voice held a mixture of hurt and anger. You had been sedated after your episode outside in the courtyard, the scent of sterile hospital air still clinging to your skin.

“I-I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Mingi stammered, twisting his fingers.

“Find out? So you were going to keep this affair a secret?” Your tone was sharp, cutting through the tension. 

“Things haven’t been the same since…the accident,” he whispered.

“Of course it hasn’t!” Tears welled up in your eyes. “I never asked for this! I admit it was my fault, I got myself into this mess. But you're the last person I ever imagined hurting me!"

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

“You’re sorry?” you scoffed, bitterness coating your tongue. “You’re sorry you got caught. I thought things were getting better when you came by more frequently. I was looking forward to seeing you because you’ve been the best part of my day for the last four months.”

You shake your head. "But it was only to see her. And then you pretend to care about my wellbeing. You're pathetic."

Mingi hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I do care for you. And I…I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future. These past few months have been difficult,” he pauses, holding out for your reaction. Your silence is more than enough for him to continue. "We’ve been growing apart and I don’t want us to end up resenting each other.”

"Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why let me believe everything was fine?”

“I thought I could work through it,” he admitted, his voice breaking. His eyes flashed with sorrow. “Because everything's changed. We’ve changed.”

“Changed?” you scoffed, your voice rising. “You mean you can’t handle the reality of my situation.”

Mingi grew up in the modest yet proud surroundings of House Song, a vassal house to House Choi, far removed from the grandeur and opulence of the Great Houses. His family, though not of noble origin, held a respected position within Aurora, serving loyally under one of the Great Houses.

Despite the lack of grandeur, his childhood was rich with lessons in humility and resilience, eventually befriending you during your time at the academy. He shared his secrets, dreams, and fears, spending countless nights talking about his future and imagining all the adventures you would have together as riders.

Mingi stood witness to all your antics. Like the time you smuggled Cirrus’ egg under your sweater, like a pregnant woman, avoiding detection from the instructors. Or the day you threatened to toss the egg into a volcano if Cirrus didn’t hatch soon. Mingi was there, a constant presence—a fixture in your life.

Love tiptoed in like a quiet revelation. Perhaps it was during an Astrology assignment, tracing imaginary lines in the sky. And the way your eyes crinkled with laughter when you got your grades back on the assignment and beat Mingi by a single point, despite doing the work together.

Or maybe it was when your sister bet Eos could beat Cirrus in a wrestling match and you lost, which meant that you were forced to clean out the caverns. And the way Mingi quietly got down on one knee and asked if he could help you clean dung forever.

Forever seemed like a thing of the past.

Mingi steels himself for the words that would change everything. “You know that's not fair. And I don't want to leave you but..."

“But what? You’ve already strayed,” you interject, your voice laced with pain.

“Staying together out of guilt or obligation isn’t fair to either of us,” Mingi's shoulders slump, tearing his gaze away from you. "I think it’s best if we end things.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, the hospital room suddenly feeling smaller, suffocating. You looked away, heart heavy filled with the weight of unspoken fears and shattered dreams.

Sighing, you took the kettle off its stand and poured water into your teacup. “Riders don’t choose their dragons; the dragon chooses you,” you muttered under your breath as steam rose to fog your glasses. It was a mantra all dragon riders lived by, a truth that resonated deeply within you.

You forced yourself to spend hours reading ancient texts in your hospital bed, learning about different dragon lineages, brushing up on dragon anatomy, biology—anything to distract from your recovery and the breakup. The pages of the books surrounding your hospital bed became a step away from the pain and towards a new purpose.

Now, two years later, you were a researcher at the Department of Conservation and Preservation at the Auroran Institute of Dragonology. Your mission: protect endangered dragon species and maintain the delicate balance between humans and dragons. 

“Your Grace!”

Your head snapped up at the title. A member of high society gracing the hallways of your department was unheard of. You joined your colleagues, who had also emerged from their offices, all eager to witness this unexpected visitor. 

His presence was magnetic, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. His attire was immaculate, a testament to his noble status, and his confident stride exuded an air of authority. 

“I need a new dragon,” he declared, turning to the gaggle of advisors behind him.

You raised an eyebrow. So he’s the one making demands.

“Yes, Your Grace, but what happened to Edge?”

The dragon rider scoffed, waving his gloved hand dismissively. “Edge is old news. He’s lost… his edge. I need a faster, sleeker beast—one worthy of my skills.”

You clenched the handle of your cup. You’d seen this type before—the racers who believed they were invincible, riding on the wings of their own ego. Dragons aren’t machines. You believed them to be sentient beings, rich with history and wisdom.

“I have six months to get into the saddle and train a dragon that can match my ambition. I can’t lose to Song Mingi over the Inferno Cup,” he said, placing a hand on his hip. “The one my House has hosted since dragons were put on this earth,” he reminded the advisor.

Oh. The gears started turning in your head as you put all the pieces together. The Inferno Cup. A member of high society. The ridiculously good looks.

Park Seonghwa. Racing prodigy and heir to House Park.

“With all due respect, Your Grace, six months is not enough time for a young dragon to learn the ways of the sky!” one of the advisors said quietly.

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed. “Your insubordination is intolerable. How hard can it be to find a new dragon? It doesn’t need to be a fledgling—any dragon that can outpace Song Mingi’s will suffice!” He spun on his heel, his coat billowing behind him as he stormed away.

A rivalry with Song Mingi? You drummed your fingers against the side of your cup, weighing the reckless decision you were about to make. You watched Seonghwa leave, your expression shifting to one of cold calculation. You weren’t sure how successful you could be in manipulating him into ensuring that Mingi would be dealt with, but you were willing to try.

So you made a run for it.

The doors to Director Jung Wooyoung’s office burst open, Seonghwa’s advisors trailing behind after being unceremoniously left out of their young lord's plans. He strode down the corridor with an air of authority, drawing the eyes of curious onlookers and researchers.

“Your Grace!” one of his advisors called out, bowing deeply as he caught up on Seonghwa’s left. “What did you learn from Director Jung?”

“Nothing of consequence. I must visit the archives.”

“W-what do you mean? Are you saying they don’t have a dragon?”

“No,” Seonghwa quipped, ignoring his advisor. Another advisor flanked his right side, quickening his pace in an attempt to keep up. Seonghwa couldn’t fathom why his mother insisted these old fools accompany him.

“Your Grace, wait!”

“I need a new dragon," he declared, turning to the gaggle of advisors behind him. Perhaps a slight loss of composure would deter these hacks from trailing him incessantly.

“Yes, Your Grace, but whatever happened to Edge?”

The dragon rider scoffed, waving his gloved hand dismissively. “Edge is old news. He’s lost…his edge. I need a faster, sleeker beast—one that’s worthy of my skills.”

“I have six months to get into the saddle and train a dragon that can match my ambition. I can’t lose to Song Mingi over the Inferno Cup,” he said, putting a hand on his hip. “The one my House has hosted since dragons were put on this earth,” he reminded the advisor.

“With all due respect, Your Grace, six months is not enough time for a young dragon to learn the ways of the sky!" one of the advisors said quietly.

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed. “Your insubordination is intolerable. How hard can it be to find a new dragon? It doesn’t need to be a fledgling—any dragon that can outpace Song Mingi’s will suffice!” He spun on his heel, his coat billowing behind him as he stormed away.

“I can help you beat Song Mingi!”

A voice called out to him, halting him in his tracks, the tail of his long coat sweeping behind them. There you stood, a plain researcher with glasses perched high on the bridge of your nose, framed by messy, unkempt bangs. It was clear that Jung Wooyoung was overworking his staff. What could a researcher possibly know about dragon racing?

“What do you know about beating Song Mingi?”

“I know he beat you with that brute dragon of his,” you shot back with a smirk.

Seonghwa frowned, unimpressed with your sarcasm. His jaw tightened, as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for a more serious answer.

“It’s pretty obvious that Longhorns are brutes; they’re built for strength but lack the stamina of most other dragons. Ajax is only faster than your average Longhorn because his mother was crossbred to a Fury,” you rolled your eyes at the mention of the incredibly rare breed.

“How do you know that Mingi’s dragon has Fury blood?” His eyes narrowed, suspicion and curiosity mingling in his gaze. The revelation was unexpected, and he was clearly intrigued by the potential advantage this information could provide.

You hesitated for a moment, your jaw tightening at the memory of how your relationship with Mingi had ended. The pain was still there, just beneath the surface. “Oh, uh… he’s my ex-fiancé,” you admitted.

“Ex-fiancé, huh?” he said, his tone laced with a mix of skepticism and interest. “Well, that certainly adds a twist to things.”

He took a moment to process the information, his mind clearly racing with the implications. The fact that you had such a personal connection to his rival was unexpected, and it opened up a world of possibilities. Seonghwa’s frown deepened, not out of displeasure, but as he considered how this new piece of information could be leveraged.

You stood in stark contrast to Song Mingi. You were… unremarkable, at least by Seonghwa’s standards. A fierce competitor like Mingi couldn’t possibly have been engaged to a measly researcher like you, or so it seemed. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a complexity and resilience that shined, despite your bookish demeanor. 

“If you’re looking to beat Ajax, you’re going to need a dragon bred for agility and stamina. I suggest a Dreamwood.” 

He took a step closer, zeroing on you like a predator sizing up its prey. “And where might I find a Dreamwood, hm?” he asked, his tone mocking.

“What kind of racer are you? Don’t you do any research on breeds before you plan on piloting them?” 

“I have someone for that,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Gods,” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your temples in exasperation. The audacity of this smug bastard. But this is what you get for attempting to goad the heir to House Park and dragon rider extraordinaire, Park Seonghwa, into exacting revenge on your former fiancé and his rival.

“If it pleases Your Grace, my House would be most honored to provide you with a dragon. I can assure you that our lineage traces back to the very founding of the Great Houses, and we’ve taken great care to preserve the form and function of Dreamwoods through the centuries. We’ve also significantly improved their temperament to ensure–”

“Drop the act. Why haven’t there been any Dreamwoods on the skyway as of late?” Seonghwa’s question caught you off guard, his piercing gaze demanding an answer.

You swallowed hard. “Males are hard to come by these days. The ones we’ve bred are still too young to be considered viable prospects. We could import an outcross from Dune, but House Choi has no immediate plans for breeding.”

You knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Since your accident, you had abandoned the idea of continuing Cirrus’ bloodline and breeding altogether. The trauma of your accident had left you unwilling to revisit that part of your life. Besides, there were plenty of young dragons bred by your grandmother and sister, ready and waiting. Cirrus herself was content, living a peaceful life as your companion. 

“Look, if you’re desperate–”

“I’m not desperate,” he growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“That’s not what it sounds like. What was it again? Ah! ‘I have six months to get into the saddle and train a dragon that can match my ambition–’”

Seonghwa stepped closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “I could ruin your life right here and now, lowborn. You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

You met his gaze, unflinching. “And you have no idea what you're up against. Your hurt ego and losing to Mingi is one thing but Ajax is another. You've seen him and know he’s a monster."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Hybrids were common in racing, their mixed traits often giving them an edge on the skyway. But your philosophy for purebred dragons was rooted in a deep respect for history and tradition, with their unique abilities honed over generations.

Ajax wasn’t just a dragon; he was a force of nature, a creature of unparalleled power and ferocity. Dubbed the “Bloody King”, his scales shimmering a deep, blood-red while his massive wings stretched wide, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the light whenever he was giving chase to an opponent. He was a marvel of selective engineering, an instrument of war that somehow found its way on the skyway. 

“I've known Mingi since we were children. I was there when he bought Ajax,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. Memories flooded back, each one more vivid than the last. The day Mingi brought Ajax home was etched in your mind, a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Seonghwa’s eyes softened as he listened, sensing the depth of your connection to his rival.

“Ajax was just a hatchling, but even then, he had this fierce spark in his eyes. Mingi saw potential in him, something extraordinary, most likely due to his hybrid nature. But as he grew, so did the challenges. He was unpredictable.”

Seonghwa nodded, absorbing your words. “And Mingi? How did he handle it?”

A sad smile crossed your lips. “Mingi was determined, almost to a fault. He believed in Ajax, believed that he could harness that raw power. But it wasn’t easy. There were times when Ajax’s feral nature got the better of him, and it took everything to keep him under control. You’d think the bond with your dragon would be enough but you can’t beat instinct.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to understand what you’re up against,” you replied, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. “And if you’re going to face him again, you need to be prepared for anything.”

Seonghwa took a deep breath, the enormity of the task ahead sinking in. “I’ll think about your offer,” he said, his voice steadier this time.

“You will!?” You perked up at his words, eyes widening with a mix of surprise and excitement. The sudden shift in your demeanor was a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the space moments before. 

“But you should probably brush up on your pitch. It was lacking.”

“Lacking!?” you scoffed, indignant. “I’ll have you know that I take pride in my family’s longstanding practice of preservation breeding–”

“You said Song Mingi’s dragon was produced by a Longhorn and a Fury. How did he find the breeder?”

“Mingi bought him when we were 15. I know he came with registration papers but you’re going to have to visit the archives for that information,” you jerked your thumb in the opposite direction, earning a bewildered expression from Seonghwa.

Your eyes widened. “Don’t tell me that you have a shit sense of direction?”

His eyes narrowed. “I assure you, I don’t.”

“And yet,” you smirked, “you claim to be a dragon rider?”

“I’ll find what I need in the archives.”

“Like your sense of direction?” you teased, taking a step back. “Think about the offer. If you’re determined to beat Song Mingi, pay my grandma a visit. She’s quite fond of pretty boys.”

Your reasoning was petty and juvenile. Your heart was a storm of emotions after discovering that Mingi had betrayed you. The pain of his infidelity cut deep, but beneath the hurt, a fierce determination burned. You would not let this betrayal go unanswered, and Park Seonghwa was the key to that.

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