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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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President Jin and the Lady, ch 10

It had required a massive undertaking and movement of his sphere of influence before President Jin could do away with the majority of the charges laid against him. Lack of evidence, illegally obtained evidence and fabricated evidence worked in his favor to lessen his stay in prison. The good thing about a wily and uncouth police officer on his tail is that, for all of his smarts, he hadn’t exactly followed the law in apprehending him.

And despite every attempt, President Jin only served a three-year prison sentence for his crimes. Though many of his accomplices had been ousted during the same investigation that sank him, there isn’t much power the law has against the might of connections and money. Especially when one of those connections is Lord Go Sahong. Though very upright, it seems that owing a debt makes Lord Go a very forgiving man. Like his granddaughter, Lord Go had visited President Jin at the very beginning of his sentence in jail. He’d been charged with twenty years for his crimes, pending an additional 10 years if the conspiracy of attempted murder charges stuck.

Lord Go had sat, quite stately, across the glass divide. He’d observed him in silence, much like his granddaughter had. The resemblance between them was clear. He’d smiled then, to the annoyance of his guest. After President Jin explained himself, Lord Go had allowed the moment of mirth to pass, a small smile on his face. Despite it all, Assemblyman Go Sahong loved no one and nothing more than he loved his granddaughter.

“You did me a great service a year ago, and I have not forgotten our debt,” he said at last, sighing gruffly. “However, you did wrong many people in your scams and machinations. You must pay for your crimes.”

President Jin had nodded. He hadn’t expected Lord Go to help him at all. He had been prepared for this conversation to go on less pleasantly than it already had, considering he’d swindled several millions of won from this man. Most of his victims cried and wailed over mere thousands. This man, however, had suffered the most from the fall of One Network. Even his approval ratings had plummeted, even when people realized he’d also been a victim of President Jin Hyunpil’s lies. South Koreans were not known for being forgiving about past mistakes.

“I’ll have your sentence reduced to three years. And despite what your ex-employee and that detective claim, the murder charges won’t stick,” he says firmly, a note of finality in his voice. “You’ll have some community service to do once you’re out, but I’ll have a job ready for you once you’ve done your time.”

President Jin’s mouth drops open in abject shock. He stands, hands folded politely, even as he dearly wishes he could pound on the glass again. “But, sir, this is too much! You’ve already done so much!”

Lord Go waves his complaints away with one hand, heedless of his words. “Come back a better man, President Jin.”

The elderly man shoots him a glare beneath his brows, frowning impressively. His parting shot is remarkably reminiscent of Go Aeshin.

“Don’t disappoint my granddaughter anymore.”

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Upon exiting the prison, there’s a polished black car waiting for him. Against the hood leans Gu Dongmae, smiling roguishly. President Jin tugs his high collar higher on his chin, to ward off the winter chill.

“So rumors were true, you’re finally free, naeuri.” The Japanese Oyabun drawls, tossing his head. The irony of the title ought to rattle President Jin, but during his time in jail, Dongmae had visited more often than the people who claimed to be on his side. Albeit begrudgingly, he’s grown rather fond of the cheeky mafia don.

A friend in need is a friend indeed, so the saying goes. And Gu Dongmae had shown that to be true. Dongmae jerks his head toward the copilot seat, chuckling. “Hop in, naeuri.”}

Shaking his head, Presindent Jin does as he’s told, jumping into his younger friend’s car. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Dongmae fires up the engine and heads out, one hand on the wheel and the left on his chin, elbow against the window pane. ��My wife suggested you might want some good food and drinks on your first day out. And no place quite like the Glory Hotel for you to… donate your generous patronage, naeuri.”

President Jin laughs outright, smoothing a hand down his beard. “So that’s your angle?” his voice is too amused for the accusation to stick. “Make me drink wantonly and stick me with the bill?”

“Of course,” Dongmae says agreeably, his voice friendly. “What else is there but for me to make money off of you, conman?” The mischievous twinkle in his eyes takes the edge off his words, so President Jin takes no offence at his insult.

President Jin takes a pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment, putting them on with a grin. “Haven’t you heard, Yakuza? I’m poor, the government took everything.”

Dongmae snorts, giving his friend a mean side-eye. “Not everything.”

President Jin doesn’t meet his searching gaze, staring intently at the road. Trust the husband of South Korea’s most infamous information broker to know he still has a secret stash hidden in different parts of the country. He wonders how many of his little cash caches Kudo Hina is aware of.

Knowing that wily woman, probably every single one.

“You and your wife are incorrigible.” He says, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice.

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He’d gone to visit the venerable Lord Go, and instead happened upon her. She’s a vision in white, like the very first day he’d seen her. She’s completely barefoot in her study, surrounded by fountains and plants as she paints, her leather indoor sandals forgotten on the floor. Her hair is pulled back into a simple low ponytail, revealing the large pearl earrings brushing against her neck. Her long-sleeved white blouse billows with every brush stroke, and there are specks of paint on her creamy white pants. A cigarette lays forgotten on the coffee table at her side, along with a cup of cooling tea.

She’s as beautiful as the day he thought he’d lost her.

Lady Go Aeshin glances toward him as the servants clear the table and set down fresh tea for both of them. He hadn’t yet gathered the courage to visit her at her new apartment, hence why he’d been hedging and avoiding her. President Jin had come looking for Lord Go, only to find his granddaughter laying in wait. He’d been told the master of the house was here, and it seems the servants had conspired to bring them together. The elderly man pays him no mind as he finishes setting out the tea. As the servants exit, the room grows quiet.

President Jin doesn’t even dare sit down as her eyes rove over him, an assessing glance. She doesn’t invite him to sit down, and the clatter of the brush on the easel makes him jump.

“It’s raining outside,” she says conversationally, eying the droplets on his shoulders. He nods mutely, not quite knowing what to say. He’d been too impatient to accept an umbrella from his underlings, anxious to meet Lord Go. He’s always been a silver tongue conman, but today, words seem to fail him completely. Though he’d played this encounter countless times in his head during this three-year stint in jail, he’d never quite found the proper words to say. Should he start with an apology? Should he beg her to be his?

His last time begging Lady Go Aeshin hadn’t gone well. She never visited him while he was in prison. She merely sent him the occasional present, some with a letter enclosed. That was the limit of their contact. Even Gu Dongmae’s wife had visited him more than that. It stung, that she had stayed away, despite his request at her return. But damn it all, he loves this woman, foolishly, ardently, completely. He will never be free of her until he dies. He hates himself a little for loving a creature as unattainable as this. She is the human embodiment of wildfire, encroaching upon his heart but uncontrollable and without master. She will be the death of him.

“I wonder, President Jin…” she says, standing at last. She picks up her cigarette, exhaling smoke before speaking again. “Do you know what love is?”

It’s a rather confusing question, especially since she’d asked using the English word for love. Considering her breeding and education, he realizes her question is more of the rhetorical kind. He nods nonetheless, wondering what she’s getting at.

“It takes two people, together, for it to be done properly.” She remarks as she walks, as barefoot as a child, toward him. Her stride radiates power, and somehow, he finds his own confidence within hers. He straightens, finally looking her dead in the eye.

“It’s not easy, love.” He says casually, as she reaches him. His hands find her hips and he pulls her just a little closer. She smiles, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

“No, indeed.” Aeshin steps out of his grasp, and tosses him a look over her shoulder. “Come here.”

Wherever she goes, he would willingly follow. President Jin realizes that he’d lost to this woman from the very start, but he finds he doesn’t really mind. To tangle him up in her web, she’d ended up tangled up in him. Regardless of who tied the damning knot, they were both in this and they were in it together.

His smile sharpens. She is his.

#PresidentJinAndTheLady #president jin #Go Ae Shin #go aeshin #Mr Sunshine #mr sunshine netflix #Masters

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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The Better Ending, pt 12

It doesn’t take long for Aeshin to realize that there is nothing she loves more than her children. Joonyoung, Sumi and even Domi have become a central part of her life at this point. She spends the majority of her time devoted to them or with them, and it has become apparent to her that if anything were to ever threaten her kids, she’d stop at nothing to put a bullet into the threat. By blood, they are not her own. But by bond, it’s as though they emerged from her womb. She does her level best to educate them just as well as her grandfather educated her. She dresses them in good clothes and feeds them the same food Haman-daek had once prepared for her. They are her children and no one can take them from her.

The children, to be fair, are as in love with their mother as she is with them.

Joonyoung admires her as his Captain, commander and as the most beautiful woman he has ever met. Sumi looks up to her as an incredible marksman and homemaker. Domi loves her in that simple, artless way children do. To them, there is no woman who could ever surpass her. Whatever they do, it always comes back to her.

In the six months they’ve been in Manchuria, all three children have taken it upon themselves to earn their keep. Eugene and Aeshin Choi opened up their home to them, and the kids were determined to pay them back for their kindness. Despite all assurances from their parents they need not bring them any money, the three children faithfully amassed a small fortune for their parents. Sumi’s activities as a seamstress were the biggest money maker, as she worked for dirt cheap and did better mending than the Emperor’s own maids. Joonyoung played to his strengths and worked for the local bookstore by writing, translating and making copies of books. Domi began anew his work as an A-frame carrier, ferrying luggage and water both for Righteous Army members and the locals.

The children knew their parents had plans on buying land and constructing a small house. The hut they lived in was comfortable, but not quite good enough to keep them safe in the event of a storm or an attack. Already they’d had to thatch the roof twice. Eugene had scouted a house in the outskirts of Harbin, whose surrounding lands were empty and on sale. The cost hadn’t been exorbitant, but it had made their parents flinch. In secret, the kids pinched pennies enough to gather two thirds of the cost of both the house and the lands. Of course, they pretended they weren’t doing so by buying things they wanted. Joonyoung had saved enough to buy a camera and film, taking pictures of his family very often. Sumi had begun to buy better quality silks for her projects and Domi often came home sucking on a gobstopper (which he never failed to share with his mother). It wasn’t until they came together, just in the beginning of winter, with huge grins on their faces as their parents went over their finances. They had been hoping to purchase the house before the winter storms set in, but it wasn’t going well.

Joonyoung unceremoniously drops the bags of bills they’d saved up, linking his arms with his siblings. “We saved this, for you. For the house.”

Sumi nods, gesturing toward the cash. “Is it enough?”

Domi rolls his eyes as both parents hesitate, eying the pile. “Come on! Count it! Do you think we can buy the house now? Will we have enough for a toilet? I really want a toilet like the ones I saw at the hotel in Harbin. Uncle Kyle said it was expensive, but I really want one!”

Aeshin laughs, handing half the cash to her husband before counting the other half. “Children, this is incredible. How did you-?”

Eugene shakes his head, pushing the bills back. “We cannot take this. This is your money. You already pitch in more than enough to put food on the table. I can’t accept this.”

Joonyoung, who had expected this, sits down. “Father,” he says solemnly, surprising Eugene. “The winter is going to hit us all. I know that most of what you and mother earn goes to proceeds and donations for the Righteous Army. It will take years before you can save up enough for us to afford the house or the renovations.”

Sumi nods, taking a seat on the table beside her brother. “We’re too young to contribute to the cause, so we could save up most of our earnings for this.”

Domi bounces on the balls of his feet, excited. “We want to earn our keep! Are you proud of us?” He runs to Aeshin, throwing his arms around his mother. She laughs, rubbing her cheek against his affectionately.

“It appears we have been outnumbered and outmanoeuvred,” she remarks, her eyes sharp. Joonyoung and Sumi both blush, looking down. Domi’s unaffected by her words and merely climbs into her lap shamelessly.

Eugene looks between his three children, before standing to give them each a kiss on their foreheads. He looks across the table at his wife from behind Sumi and Joonyoung, pride shining in his smile.

“Let’s buy our house.” The children stand up to tackle their father, screaming gleefully.

#fanfic #Mr Sunshine #mr sunshine netflix #EuShin #ChoiEugene #Go Ae Shin #Domi #Sumi #Joonyoung #TheBetterEnding #BetterEndingAU #The Better Ending

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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President Jin and the Lady, ch 9

The bells rings, announcing his visitor. The officers buzz her in, and Lady Go Aeshin click-clacks her way to the glass partition that stands between them. His hands tighten into fists at the sight of her, remorse curling in his gut. The events of the last year stand like guilty children on his conscience, and he wonders if he’s disappointed her. While he lived in the Philippines, he thought of her every day. He would have even called her; if he hadn’t been sure her phone would be watched by the police. His survival was of greater priority, but during the hot Manila nights, he’d constantly thought of her. The lonely nights were so long without her. Sometimes, he even touched himself to the thought of her.

He still has her picture in his wallet. He now keeps it in his prison locker.

Seeing her now, after a year apart, sears him down to the core. She’s even more beautiful than he remembers. Her hair is now cut short, a sleek, curling bob that makes her look more a lady. Her black turtleneck hugs her body tightly, tucked into the skinny jeans. Her black boots make her legs extend for miles, and the caramel coat over her shoulders billows behind her as she walks toward him with purpose. It’s winter and she looks ravishing. He’d gotten picture updates of her from private investigators he’d hired while in Manila, but seeing her in person is like a punch to the gut.

The silver four leaf clover hanging from a necklace draws his gaze to her neck. His jaw clenches.

She settles into the chair on the opposite side of the glass, finally raising her gaze to look at him. Her expression is totally unreadable for him. He wonders what is going on behind her dark, shining eyes.

“It’s been a long time,” he greets, and feels ridiculous. He’s swindled thousands of people, including her grandfather, and the first thing he says is an absurd greeting. The kind two collage friends might say when seeing each other at the 10 year reunion of their class. It makes him want to cut his own tongue out.

“Quite,” she responds, and says nothing more. She merely watches him, her gaze hooded. He can almost feel the disappointment in the air.

A part of him had been hoping she would forgive him. In this moment, terror settles in his stomach. She may never look at him like she did that night after he’d rescued her. The realization burns down his throat like shitty alcohol. He’d made sure the effects of his downfall didn’t affect her grandfather’s finances too much. If anything, he’d worked hard in raising the value of the property Lord Go had bequeathed him. The authorities had been unable to take the land from President Jin, as he’d finalized the paperwork to return the lands to Assemblyman Go Sahong weeks before getting ousted by Jang-goon. Still, by investing in One Network, Lord Go’s once unblemished record was tainted. If there is anything Go Aeshin will not forgive, it is strikes against her family. His guilt makes him tongue-tied; he has no excuses to give her. So they sit in silence, until she breaks it.

“Are you eating well?” she asks simply, cocking her head slightly to the side. She crosses her legs, finally sitting back. It’s as though the unforgiving pressure on him lets up. He takes air in sharply, surprised.

“I am,” he smiles crookedly. “Prison food isn’t to my taste, but it’s not too bad.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. President Jin wonders if she knows he gets food basically smuggled in through the warden, who understands the convenience of having a man like President Jin Hyunpil owe him a favor. Lady Go Aeshin has surprised him once; he doubts anything is beneath her. “Your hair and beard look nice,” she observes, smiling for the first time.

He self consciously runs a hand across his scruffy beard, grinning at the compliment.

“Good,” she says, making him flinch. That is a word charged with memories for him. Memories of her lips on his, her body pressed languidly against him. The remembrance of her lips sizzles across his skin. As she stands, he jolts to his feet, slamming his palms against the blasted glass partition. She pulls her coat higher on her shoulders, glancing back at him unconcernedly.

“Wait,” he cries, a note of desperation in his voice. He kneels before no one and begs to no one… but for Lady Aeshin, he would be willing to put all of his pride aside. “Come again.”

“Please… come again,” he says, jerking away from the correctional officer tugging at his arm and warning him to step away from the glass.

Go Aeshin gives him one last, long look before turning away.

Days later, a package arrives along with the food he’d ordered from a nearby chicken delivery place. The warden, Hwang Eunsan, smirks as he reads the label.

“Compliments of Lady Go Aeshin,” he snorts, handing President Jin the box. President Jin is on his feet faster than the warden can blink, and Eunsan snaps his hands back in shock.

Cradling the box, President Jin sits down to open it. Inside is a bottle of his favorite wine, once casually mentioned in conversation with the chicken soup shop owner, Jang Seung-goo. With it comes a note, written in a fine hand.

“On an autumn day, the long clean lake flows like green jade. We docked our boat where the lotus flowers bloom. I threw bait over the wall to meet you, but I got caught by someone from afar and spent half the day embarrassed.” It reads, written with an elegance rivaling Heo Nanseolheon. He traces the words, wondering at their meaning. There is an address on the box, one he doesn’t recognize, along with a phone number.

Hwang Eunsan chuckles as he sits at his desk, loudly slurping his noodles. “Lady Go Aeshin recently moved into her own apartment,” he wonders aloud, for no reason whatsoever. “I heard she’s even opening her own business, that girl.”

President Jin smirks, putting the address and number under his prison uniform for safe keeping. It seems he’s been invited. It burns a path of motivation before him.

As soon as he’s free, he’ll take her up on her invitation.

#presidentjinandthelady #fanfic #mr sunshine #mr sunshine netflix #go ae shin #president jin #presidentjin #masters

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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President Jin and the Lady, ch 8

Go Aeshin tosses her hair over her shoulder as she walks away, exhaling smoke as she goes. It takes President Jin a moment to compose the tattered remains of his being before he can chase after her.

He’s not sure what he’s going to say to her. By the south entrance, they’d had some semblance of privacy. Here, now, closing in on the eastern entrance, they are surrounded by cops, Special Forces and President Jin’s own men. For the sake of the lady’s virtue, he cannot make any overt moves, however much he’d like to. Her integrity is part of her image, and he cannot mar that. Not for her. In this moment, President Jin realizes he’s fallen foolishly in love with this woman. And perhaps, thanks to that kiss, she feels something for him, too.

He’s a few steps away. President Jin needs answers, even if he’s not sure how he’s going to get them.

He doesn’t see it in time, but Mori Takashi is being escorted out just as they walk past. He’d been a broken man the last President Jin had left him, but upon seeing Lady Go Aeshin, something triggers in the Japanese Oyabun. He screams, writhing in his bounds and tearing away from his captors. He snatches a handgun, yelling obscenities as he raises the weapon and pulls the trigger.

President Jin was arrives at a dead run, knocking Lady Aeshin aside. As she falls, she pulls something from beneath the folds of her dress, and takes precise aim. Thanks to the distance, Mori Takashi’s shot goes wild, but Lady Go Aeshin is a true marksman. Her shot lands squarely on his forehead, eliciting a grunt from the Japanese Oyabun before he falls to his knees and off to the side. Dead.

President Jin grips his forearm, where the shot grazed him. Aeshin is already on her feet, and the gun is gone from her hands. Her eyes are round with worry as she grips his wrist, checking the wound on his arm from the bullet.

“Are you alright?” her words slice through the silence after the gunshot, just before the entire compound erupts like a beehive. The soldiers and police make their move, surrounding the body of the dead Oyabun and subduing any resistance from the other captured criminals of the Japanese syndicate. The soldiers don’t dare come near the Lady, though, fearing retribution if they should dare question such a respected member of society.

President Jin blinks, more stunned by her shot than his wound. “I didn’t know you could shoot a handgun.” Mutely, he realizes it was the same gun Mori Takashi had used to hold her hostage. How strangely fitting.

She gives him a look from under her brows as she fusses over his arm, and her lips quirk for a moment as she leads him to the ambulance. “I can shoot a rifle, too.” The hint of pride in her voice makes him smile, even as the dichotomy of her status and her abilities as a gunman makes his head spin.

“Was… that your first kill?” He asks softly. He’s not sure what answer he wants to hear.

Her silence is worse

Lady Go Aeshin, after escorting him to the ambulance, touches his cheek before leaving.

“Don’t die,” she says, almost like a parting shot. She smiles at him sadly before turning away.

Somehow, this feels like goodbye.

It isn’t until later that he finds out Aeshin had made a call to her grandfather and learned of their deal. She knew her grandfather had signed to invest in One Network and had even bequeathed President Jin several of his estates in the country. In a single moment, President Jin became the third wealthiest man in South Korea.

She’d said goodbye knowing he’d gotten what he’d come for.

#PresidentJinAndTheLady #Mr Sunshine #mr sunshine netflix #Go Ae Shin #President Jin #presidentjin #fanfic

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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The President and the Lady, ch 7

By the time President Jin is satisfied, Mori Takashi is barely able to babble in response to his questions. In this state, the Japanese Oyabun would have told him anything, confessed to anything, if only to stop the pain. President Jin relishes in the moment of his revenge, for no one could strike his lady and get away with it. Not on his watch.

It’s been perhaps a gruesome hour since his torture of Mori Takashi had begun, but President Jin is deliberating continuing. Though his blood thirst is quenched, it does not feel like it does Lady Go Aeshin justice. She was taken for five straight hours, possibly starved, likely struck and in the process of being robbed of her money. Sixty minutes doesn’t seem like quite enough, after all the hardship the bastard before him had brought upon the Lady. He’s been rather creative in his torture methods and he’s running out of ideas. Perhaps he should desist…

It isn’t until he is told that Lady Go Aeshin is waiting for him that President Jin decides to head on up and allow the police to take the criminals caught during the raid. The Police Commissioner won’t be handing over such a bloody and hectic crime scene to the Musin Crime Syndicate just yet. As a matter of pride, mostly, and of course… the pile of dead bodies brought on by the second half of the raid. President Jin delegates the matter to him; he’s the cop, after all.

He finds the lady leaning up against the south entrance of the house, a bit cleaner and wearing his cream suit coat across her shoulders. She looks fabulous and it makes his heart ache for a moment. She’s here, she’s safe… and she’s wearing his clothes. It takes a visible moment of restraint and self-composure before President Jin approaches. Otherwise, he might have pressed her against the wall and found out just how loud she screams for him.

She turns to him, looking up from a phone that seems to have been borrowed from one of his men. “Ah, are you finished? I didn’t think torturing someone could take this long.”

He smiles smoothly, running a hand back on his hair. He’d removed the tactical gear before approaching her. It was covered in blood and smelled like a slaughter house. Still, she sees him, all of him; it makes him feel vulnerable.

“My lady, with the right tools, torture can take days.” She scoffs at his boast, but says nothing.

Her lips part and his gaze focuses on them hungrily. His adrenaline is still running rather high from the raid and he breathes deeply to calm down. He tugs at his tie, pulled on hurriedly, and clears his throat.

Aeshin steps forward and his breath catches. Her slim hands gently realign his tie to his neck and adjust his collar. There is a domesticity to her actions that puts him under thrall. The palms of his hands itch with a visceral need to pull her up against him and breathe. Her. In.

Her gaze finds his as her breath ghosts over his chin.

“Do you have a cigarette?” She asks him, unexpectedly. He nods mutely, reaching for his cigarettes. Instead of giving it to her, he puts one in his mouth and lights it. Breathing to the side to avoid blowing smoke into her face, he offers her the lit cigarette. She smiles, and despite it all, she’s beautiful.

“Good,” she whispers, before stepping closer, bringing her entire body flush against him, and kisses him so deeply he feels it in his soul. He keeps the cigarette away with one hand, but the other is wrapped around her back and on her shoulder, pressing her to him with all of his strength. Her lips open, her tongue finds his and his essence is shattered. It rebuilds with her name seared onto it and he is forever marked.

Go Aeshin steps back, plucking the cigarette from his hand and holding it with her teeth.

“See you again, President Jin.”

#fanfic #PresidentJinAndTheLady #presidentjin #Mr Sunshine #mr sunshine netflix #Go Ae Shin #Eugene Choi #HyunShin #AePil #JinGo #she's amazing

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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President Jin and the Lady, ch 6

Against advice by the military men round him, President Jin demanded a siege upon the Japanese stronghold that most surely housed Lady Go Aeshin. Though the kidnappers were consummate professionals and had avoided the CCTVs when changing cars, their captive was wilier than they’d thought. Go Aeshin had proven difficult to control, and she had made sure to leave crumbs of evidence. Enough to leave a traceable trail that allowed President Jin to find their hiding place. She’d used their inattention to her advantage and President Jin wasn’t going to let her hard work go to waste. It’s already five hours after the kidnapping had occurred and he wanted to take no chances.

“No survivors, extract the hostage as soon as possible. Draw attention and make them focus on us. Anyone have eyes on Lady Aeshin yet?” President Jin barks, as the men mobilize around him. The Police Commissioner shakes his head, looking worried. Both of them could be in serious hot water if the Lady died on their hands, and finding her alive is tantamount to their lives.

“No,” the Commissioner laments, just as one of the technicians manning the heat-sensors shouts for them. President Jin is at his side in an instant, stunning the poor man.

“What do you see?” He growls, planting both hands on the desk. The technician points to the screen, where a total of eight people are gathered in one of the back rooms in the basement.

“See, here? In most of the other rooms, the men are dispersed at strategic points. But here, there are six armed men, and two of them are sitting at a desk.” The man explains, pointing to each of the figures. “I think they’re trying to extort money from Lady Aeshin.”

President Jin sees white, straightening suddenly. “Get my gear,” he snaps, and cracks his neck ominously. “I’m going in myself.”

If knowing that the granddaughter of the most powerful and respected man in South Korea was the hostage wasn’t enough, having President Jin on their backs basically lit a furnace in the soldiers storming the building. The Japanese didn’t even know what hit them, finding themselves knocked unconscious or knocked down by grimfaced Special Forces. Within the first ten minutes, they’ve established a break and have kept a quiet infiltration, putting down the vigilant Japanese men without letting them sound the alarm. They’ve taken the stronghold mostly by storm, passing through the different rooms like liquid metal. President Jin is taking point, showing his military training as he puts down more men than the Special Forces team.

His violence is uncontained, but calculated, allowing for the team to make a double-pronged breach for the sake of finding Lady Go Aeshin much faster. The third prong is standing back, awaiting the perfect moment to increase the pressure on the yakuza inside. By the time anyone has noticed the arrival of the Special Forces, it’s too late. Out of the shadows, the bullets rip into the surprised men, and the third group makes its entrance into the compound with the resounding elegance of a charging elephant. It’s not long before they make it to the basement, where Mori Takashi is holding Go Aeshin at gun point.

President Jin, hidden behind the tactical mask and anonymous among the soldiers, assesses the state of his lady. Despite whatever perils she has faced, Lady Go Aeshin seems barely ruffled. There is a red mark on her cheek, possibly from a strike, and her hands and feet are bound by tape. Her expression is firm, however, almost calm. But President Jin can see the storm brewing beneath her dark gaze, and the peek of temper gives him hope. The table where the laptop had been was completely overturned, but the room is almost devoid of men. It seems Takashi had sent his men out and placed his bet on getting out of this situation alive by holding the lady hostage.

President Jin rips off his tactical mask, and growls in clear Japanese. “If you wish to live, I suggest you take your hands off the Lady.”

Aeshin blinks in surprise, her mouth opening slightly. Across the barrel of the rifle, President Jin tightens his jaw. He had been a marksman during his time in the Special Forces, but he’s not sure he can land the shot on Mori Takashi, as he’s hiding entirely behind Lady Go Aeshin. His eyes flicker to Aeshin, who surprises him by looking to the left. She carefully mouths “left” in English, before smacking her palm against Mori Takashi’s elbow, and the resounding gunshot is deafening. Bits of the roof rain down in a shower of dust as the bullet lodges there. Aeshin throws her body to the ground on her left, rolling over quickly to cover her face with her arms as Mori Takashi yells and adjusts his posture to shoot the Lady now on the ground.

He doesn’t get the chance. The gun is shot out of his hand, landing a mere foot away from Lady Go Aeshin. President Jin lunges for Mori Takashi with a snarl, and the beating the Japanese man takes is almost ungodly. The rest of the tactical team spreads, looking for any more enemies to disarm or kill. Two officers go to the lady, offering her a helping hand to her feet. They lead her outside as President Jin’s men fill the room, one of them offering President Jin a cigarette. Lady Aeshin looks over her shoulder just before the doors close, gazing for a moment at President Jin’s back as he accepts a cigarette and a hammer.

None notices Mori Takashi’s gun is gone.

“Listen up, because I will only say this once.” The man sags in his grip, losing consciousness fast. He’s slumping in his chair, but President Jin isn’t done with Takashi just yet. President Jin jerks him cruelly, even pressing down on his open wounds. This causes the man to scream in pain, wide awake by the discomfort. “Listen.”

President Jin brings him close to his face, exhaling a lungful of smoke slowly and with towering rage. The Japanese Oyabun shivers in his grasp, looking terrified. “No amount of money in the world will be able to fix what I’ll do to you.”

#PresidentJinAndTheLady #presidentjin #Go Ae Shin #fanfc #masters

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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The Better Ending, pt 11

Among the survivors at Manchuria, Sumi is the single best seamstress. At home, she does all of the mending for her family. While Aeshin has been suitably taught to sew, she doesn’t have the skill her adoptive daughter does. As such, the girl had simply taken up the task for everyone, even Joonyoung. Her skills with the needle are so precise, that even the surrounding families around the hut often come bearing requests… and their laundry.

Sumi doesn’t mind, it gives her something to do and earns her the odd coin to help expenses around the house. She enjoys it, spending hours sewing in front of the fire while chatting with her mother gives her something to do. Her fame has spread even to the Manchurian locals, who have suggested she set up a booth during the Sunday market to offer her services to a more varied crowd.

Sumi had prudently asked Eugene if she could do that and earned permission gladly. Eugene had even suggested her brothers accompany her.

This is how Sumi, Domi and Joonyoung now prepared this beautifully fresh Sunday morning a pretty little stand for her to receive customers. The tablecloth was a work of both herself and Aeshin, mixing Sumi’s careful stitching with Aeshin’s deliberate strokes with the brush. The ornate, masterful cloth is decorated with bright birds, flowers and leaves. Along with Aeshin’s carefully written poetry in a flowing hand, the end result is gorgeous. Domi, Joonyoung and Eugene had put the table and some chairs together, and carved a sign in Chinese welcoming all guests to the small stall. Sumi also laid some examples of her work with an artist’s eye, making her stall truly stand out from the rest.

Already, despite the early hours, they’ve had two clients request mending and one commission for a silk vest. Sumi is sitting at work while her brothers handle the finance and record all purchases. This way, the little family spends the day in relative peace, sometimes overworked as the flow of customers change over time. Around noon, after Joonyoung had fetched them all some dumplings from a nearby stall, Sumi stretches her sore back. Sitting crouched over needlework is taxing, and Sumi has spent the last five hours doing nothing else. She stands, hands raised over her head, and looks up. For the briefest of seconds, there was a shadow in the roof across the street.

Like the flutter of a black bird’s wings, it’s gone before Sumi can identify the culprit. She has a good idea who it is, however. Really, it’s the first time in months since her parents had been given the chance to be alone in the house. They shouldn’t be spending it outside watching their kids from the rooftops.

Sumi pats Joonyoung’s arm, glancing surreptitiously at the roof to tip him off. “I’ll be right back. Watch the stall for me, please.”

Joonyoung doesn’t look upwards, even has his back stiffens slightly. He nods, waving her away and busying himself with the money they’d earned.

Sumi has learned from the best, and she’s up on the rooftop in mere seconds. Her steps are quiet and she’s behind the lurking shadow before they’re even aware of her presence. Sumi swipes their feet out from under them, catching the rifle as it swings toward her and kicking her mother’s hand so as to loosen her grip. Breaking the rifle out of her hands isn’t easy, but Sumi isn’t the daughter of Joseon for nothing. She holds the rifle steady, aiming at her mother’s chest, and pulling the bolt handle with practiced ease. The bullet clicks into place, but Aeshin is already smiling widely. There’s pride in her dark eyes, and it takes Sumi a moment to compose herself at the perceived compliment.

Her triumph is short lived when Aeshin casually kicks her in the face, swings to her feet and steals the rifle right back.

“You’ve gotten better,” the woman says with a fierce smile, as Sumi wipes the blood away.

“I’ve learned from the best,” Sumi boasts, as Aeshin pulls the bolt handle smoothly, dislodging the bullet. “But really, mother, you don’t have to be here. We’re fine! We’re completely safe, I promise!”

Aeshin doesn’t seem convinced as she puts the rifle down, crossing her arms. “Are you?”

The click of the magazine startles Sumi, who turns as she raises her arms. Eugene’s hands don’t waver as he aims, standing a few feet away. Sumi’s startled, she thought only one parent had been spying on them. But then again, no Righteous Army member went anywhere these days without back up. Aeshin and her husband were stuck almost to the hip. It shouldn’t have surprised her that her father wasn’t too far off.

“Really! You’re incorrigible! It’s the first time in weeks since you’ve spent the day by yourselves! We got out of the house to give you time alone!” She scolds them, even as she keeps her hands above her head. Something moves behind her father, but Sumi doesn’t dare to look. Joonyoung knows better than to reveal himself.

Eugene sighs, lowering his weapon and gesturing for Joonyoung to come out. “Yes, yes,” he says tiredly. “But we’re still wanted criminals. We can’t be sure you’ll be safe by yourselves out here. Your mother and I were worried. It’s your first time in a market like this, too.”

Sumi and Joonyoung stand together, glaring at their parents. Joonyoung is standing at an angle and he yelps when his mother gives him a slap upside the head.

“Don’t leave your brother alone! Go, both of you!” Aeshin snaps, her temper flaring.

While Joonyoung bows, spitting apologies, Sumi isn’t so easily cowed. “Only if you go home,” she growls.

Eugene glances at his wife and shrugs one shoulder at her silent look.

“Fine, but if anything happens…” he hands them his handgun, giving Joonyoung a pointed look. The young man pockets the gun, nodding sharply. With that, they climb back down, leaving their parents behind.

“We have some time alone, then,” Eugene says, curling an arm around his wife. She gives him a sharp look before ducking under his arm, climbing down from the roof and making her way home. He catches up with her easily, hands in his pockets.

Eugene gives his wife the side-eye, smiling crookedly.

“She got the drop on you,” he says, laughter in his voice.

Aeshin kicks at him, unconcerned when he easily dodges her. Her palm strikes his back and he hisses in response.

“Yes, she did.” The pride in her voice is unmistakable.

#fanfic #Mr Sunshine #mr sunshine netflix #eushin #Go Ae Shin #eugene choi #CaptainEugeneChoi #domisumi #BetterEndingAU #TheBetterEnding

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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The Better Ending, pt 10

This chapter is for those we miss, cherish, and love with all of our hearts. For those that left us too soon. For those who took with them a piece of us all.

If tears could build a stairway

And memories a lane;

I’d walk right up to heaven,

And bring you home again.

-Author Unknown

Stairway to Heaven

It’s a fine day in Heaven, with the entirety of their population out and roaming in gay groups. The women huddle about like flocks, wearing beautiful silken dresses. The men strut mostly in pairs, discussing some matter or another in low voices. Huijin had found the entire thing ridiculous. Though abundant, the many enjoyments of Heaven had worn thin on her nerves within the first few years. An eternity here for her service to her family and her country feels rather more like torture. Her only enjoyments are the multitude of beautiful dogs in this place, but even their charms have limits for a woman like Huijin.

Then one day, one of the faeries had taken pity on her and shown her a very strange, yet magical mirror. Placed deep in the heart of The Emperor’s rose garden, it was not an easy place to access. Only thanks to her status as a hero was she even able to set foot in this place. This mirror, if awakened by the proper incantation and emotion, could become a window through which she could observe those she left behind. Huijin had almost no family, but there was one face she dearly missed. Ever since Aeshin was about five years of age, Huijin had taken to watching over her daughter. Gasping in delight whenever Aeshin discovered something new, cringing in horror when Aeshin was ever in danger. Laughing when her daughter suddenly made a face of angry surprise which reminded her so much of her husband. Her daughter was her only source of amusement and comfort in this sterile, sad Heaven she did not feel she belonged in.

“Now, wife, you can’t stay here all the time,” comes a voice, as Sangwan walks through the gateway that leads into the gardens. Her husband is stunning in his cream suit, his hair swept neatly back. In such a traditional setting, his more modern clothes set him jarringly apart. But Sangwan had never been interested in playing by anyone’s rules. Even as he scolds her, he’s smiling, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“Says who?” she challenges, even as she holds his hand and turns her head to kiss his chin. He nuzzles her shamelessly, smiling, as he looks into the face of his now grown daughter.

“Has it really been seventeen years?” he asks, watching his daughter as she reads and faithfully copies down the words of Confucius. It brings back memories, as his father used to punish him in a similar manner when he had been fifteen and wild.

Huijin nods, smiling widely and proudly at her daughter. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Then her mouth turns down and she glowers. “She’s been working on Confucius for four days now. Must father-in-law really be so harsh?”

Sangwan hums in amusement, wondering if perhaps the old man had been growing soft. “He used to punish me with two authors at a time. I once spent ten days copying the texts my father mandated. My handwriting was practically squiggles by the end. Father had to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing.”

His wife doesn’t seem to find the same humor in the situation as he did. Her daughter is too precious to spend such prolonged periods of time on the classics merely because she wanted to stay informed in the modern happenings of the world. Her father-in-law is going overboard. She wonders if she could request special permission to haunt his dreams or something. He is going to get an earful from her!

“Do stay calm, dearest,” Sangwan persuades, helping his wife to her feet. “Let’s go have a meal, shall we?” The couple walks back to the merry streets of the Jade Kingdom, arguing all the way.

Joseph smiles as he walks about, enjoying his time in this place greatly. There is a mix of so many people, all of them friendly. They shout in greeting as they pass, walking or astride gorgeous mounts. Dogs abound, wagging their tails and weaving among the crowds with practiced ease. Their coats are shiny and glossy; all of them looking healthy and well cared for, despite seeming strays. Though there are places to eat, none of them accept any currency, as far as Joseph can tell. He’s almost sure this is Heaven, though he’s not convinced he’s in the right one. From what the Bible told, Heaven would be very different from this.

He’s not sure how different, but he’s pretty sure he might have landed in the wrong one. The dogs check out, but the people around him don’t seem to be believers of his faith. Could there have been a mix-up? He woke up here, but perhaps he somehow got lost from where he should have been?

He strolls along the streets and finds a bar. Though most religious men of his faith don’t drink alcohol, the people of Joseon had enlightened him to the wonders of alcohol, if consumed responsibly. Joseph doesn’t think that alcohol consumed in Heaven even counts. He takes a seat and clumsily asks for a drink. The lady taking orders nods amiably, recognizing the blond foreigner. Despite the fact that his Korean is still rather poor, the people seem to find him charming. He’s seen quite a few other foreigners around, but no Europeans or Americans in this place. Very few people here speak English, so Joseph gets by with the language skills he learned while stationed in Joseon.

“Hey, there, Father,” a lilting voice says from a neighboring table. “You ought not drink alone.”

Joseph looks up to find a handsome man dressed in Western clothing. His cream colored suit is stunning, accented by the blue handkerchief on his chest pocket, blue tie and the black oxford shoes. He is clearly of Asian descent, but he dresses like a European gentleman. The man stands, bringing his own cup and bottle of rice wine with him. He sets both on Joseph’s table, smiling widely.

“You look a little foreign for these parts, I presume you’re just visiting?” the man asks, filling Josephs cup with his own liquor once the restaurant lady brings both a new cup and bottle.

Joseph is rather used to how the people of Joseon tend to infringe on other people’s personal space. It’s been a while, but he doesn’t mind the behavior. It helps him feel welcomed. “Perhaps an introduction would be more in order? My name is Joseph. And you are?”

The man grins and holds out his right hand, clearly knowledgeable about foreigners and their ways. It’s not lost on Joseph that most of the people in this place are ignorant. It’s been dawning on him he’s basically surrounded by people long since dead. It would explain the disconnect; most of these people don’t even know America even exists. This young man, however, is obviously in the know. “My name’s Go Sangwan,” he says and they shake hands.

There is no true night or day in Heaven, but the eternal twilight of the place seems to vary between bright and gloomy. As the gloom grows and darkens, Joseph and Sangwan drink. They chat and munch on snacks, enjoying each other’s company. The drinks have warmed Joseph enough that he can finally answer Sangwan’s initial question with some semblance of honesty.

“I don’t quite know what I’m doing here,” he confesses, smiling. “Last I knew, I had a letter from the Emperor to deliver, then an explosion of pain… and nothing else.”

The man sitting before him clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Aye, you’ve been labeled a hero, then.” He laughs, slapping his thigh. “Here my wife and I thought we were the only ones in at least thirty years to end up here on heroism, but alas, it is what it is.”

Joseph, intrigued, leans forward. Glad to find a listener, Sangwan tells tales of his and his wife’s many dutiful sacrifices for the crown of Joseon. Their love for freedom and devotion to their country is what landed them here, after all. They still haven’t been given the possibility of rebirth, but that is out of their hands, really. Sangwan doesn’t worry too much, anyway. His wife clearly wants to wait this century out. She’d much rather keep an eye on their daughter than be reborn and forget Aeshin. Especially since their little apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. A rebel daughter is bad for their health, he tells Joseph. Joseph looks on thoughtfully, before finally chiming in.

“You must love your daughter very much,” he says softly, smiling. Sangwan stops for a moment, reading between the lines.

“I see you had a child, too,” he says, confused. “I thought men of the cloth weren’t allowed to have families.”

Joseph laughs, shaking his head. “My son was adopted. I found him… or perhaps, it is more accurate to say he found me. He was my greatest joy, though I could not give him all that I wished I could.”

Sangwan clears his throat, looking skyward. “That is popular among us who die young, I’m afraid. I wish I could have done so much more for my daughter, as well.”

They drink to their mutual feelings of paternal love, before a female voice interrupts them.

“Husband! You’ll never guess what has happened! This is incredible!” Huijin comes running across the street, heedless of the people jumping out of her path. She slams both hands on the table, smiling widely. “Our daughter and that Marine, oh, I do love them together! That Eugene is the perfect man, you must see him!”

She pauses for breath, and finally notices his companion. “Oh; my apologies. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important.”

Joseph is staring at this somewhat wild, but beautiful apparition who seems to have come up from nowhere. Then, as his mind registers her words, he abruptly stands up. “I apologize, but did you say Eugene… as in Eugene Choi?”

Floundering, Huijin nods mutely, before putting both hands on her face. “Don’t tell me… you’re his adoptive father. The one who…” Her grimace of pain and understanding has Joseph realizing that this woman had truly spoken of his son. His son!

“My boy! You have seen him? How is he? Is he alright? Can I see him?” His flurry of questions come in both English and Korean, startling the couple. Huijin’s expressions grows smooth with clarity, and she gestures for him to come along. Sangwan follows after them, shouting his gratitude at the bar lady. As they walk, Huijin tells Joseph all that she has seen of his son. When Eugene and her daughter met, aiming weapons at each other. Their first dialogue, their second meeting, and so on. How they went from almost-enemies, to allies and now, to lovers. Joseph cries as he hears how his son shot himself in the arm for the sake of protecting his lady, spending the night in jail despite his injuries. He smiles at how clumsy Eugene is in his attempts to woo the lady. Huijin tells him of how her daughter had prayed for him to be lead to Heaven, despite their differing religions. Huijin offers a handkerchief for his tears, before gesturing toward the maze of roses that stand between them and the mirror.

“I cannot lead you,” Huijin explain, gesturing for him to go ahead. “If the Heavens permit, you will find it.” Sangwan joins his wife, smiling at his friend.

“Don’t worry and just follow your heart,” he advises. “We’ll see you at the mirror, Father.”

Joseph walks in, casting his gaze about this beautiful, but confusing rose garden. Everything looks exactly the same. He pauses for a moment, and sends a prayer to God. Opening his eyes, he walks swiftly and with determination. It doesn’t take long for him to get lost among the maze of beautiful roses. There are myriads of them, a beautiful collage of red and pink. Among them, he finds a white blossom, gorgeous in her solitude. Joseph walks toward it, gently touching its petals. She is fragrant and large, a lovely specimen. He commends it for its beauty, pauses, and follows the path she lies on. After a few meters, he finds another white blossom, then another… and another. As he follows their lead, the white roses behind him quietly and simply lose their petals and die.

Joseph walks for what feel like hours, panting and wondering if there is water in this garden. Just as he considers trying to find his way back, he sees a shimmer of light. Following the glow, he comes upon a gazebo, where Sangwan and Huijin await him. They smile and welcome him, offering a cup of cool water. Joseph gratefully accepts as the couple makes space for him on the bench facing the mirror and teach him the incantation.

As he whispers the words, thinking of his Eugene, his sunshine, his son… the mirror distorts and he can see his son sleeping quietly in his bed at the Glory Hotel. Seeing him, safe and all grown up, Joseph quietly cries. He had not seen him since he left him a boy that fateful day, lonely and waving on the pier, as Joseph set back to Joseon. They had only exchanged letters, and Joseph had seen the clumsy writing grow firmer, surer and more elegant over the years. Now, he sees the fruits of time, age and wisdom on his son. It breaks his heart and puts it back together again. He is, at last, whole.

For whatever Fate that brought him here, Joseph is grateful.

Hongpa stares about, finding her surroundings very disorienting. Last she remembers, she had been shot and had fallen into the water. This surreal, colorful place is starting to unsettle her. Perhaps… she is dead?

“Oh, young lady,” a voice hails her, and Hongpa turns. Before her stands a beautiful woman, dressed in silken finery. Somehow, this woman reminds her of someone, though she cannot place exactly who. “You look terribly lost. Do you need any help?”

There is a foreigner with the lady, calmly smoking a cigarette. Among the sea of Asian faces, the man is a stark contrast to those who surround her. The man smiles benignly, and Hongpa nods. She’s not one to accept help, but this place frightens her. She woke up here, with no memory of having come to this place. All she remembers is the Japanese men in her tavern, the terror, and how cold the water felt against her weeping wound. She shivers without knowing why, her hand straying to her shoulder.

“I see,” the woman says; a hint of sorrow in her voice. “You’ve died before your time.”

She puts her arm around Hongpa’s, gently steering the girl toward the warmth of a fire and perhaps a meal. “Tell me everything, I’m dying to know.”

Hongpa later came to learn she was in the presence of legendary heroes of the Righteous Army, singled out simply because of her acquaintance to their daughter. They welcome her, soothing her lingering memories of death and giving her peace. Heaven is an odd place, but Hongpa never minded dying. She had known her day would come, though she’d hoped to see Gunner Jang one last time before leaving him.

“I’ve heard you’re an excellent shot,” the woman, Huijin, says with mischief in her voice. Hongpa smirks, downing a shot of liquor. There is a challenge there, and Honga has never backed away from a challenge.

“The very best, my lady.”

Dongmae stumbles, grunting. His breathing is harsh, even as he slowly realizes his lungs actually work. He grasps desperately for a sword at his waist, missing, and glances wildly about. People around him don’t seem to mind him at all, parting around him like schools of fish avoiding a predator. The ground beneath him is unstable, his vision tunnels and he thinks frantically of the people he left behind. What of his friends, his followers, Lady Aeshin… Hina…

A voice sounds like the twinkle of a shaman’s bell. It calls to him, and he straightens in shock.

“Breathe, Gu Dongmae. Breathe,” her voice is a melody he wished he could forget. As he turns, shell-shocked, there stands Hina. She’s as beautiful as he remembers, resplendent in a blue silk, corset and petticoats. Her hair is pinned, curls around her lovely face. She holds a parasol over his head, though there is no rain or snow. It’s red, covering him where he crouches in the middle of the busy street. She’s bending forward slightly as she shields him, smiling warmly.

Gu Dongmae blinks, unable to breathe. This must be a dream. She cannot be here. He’d lost her; he knows he’d lost her. He’d felt her last breath on his back as he carried her across the sand that horrible, horrible day. Felt her grow cold and heavy and so very dead. Though he’d prayed, the Gods had taken her from him, and she’d died after confessing the impossible to him.

“I lost you,” he says, reverently and in agony.

Her touch on his cheek is feather-light. He leans against it, closing his eyes briefly, before opening them again. He does not want to look away, in fear of her disappearance.

“You’ve found me again,” she says, and he forgives her everything.

Hina finds Huiseong reading under the shade of a cherry tree, looming large in the gardens of Heaven. As usual, Dongmae is a few steps behind his lady, unwilling to leave her side. Hina lowers herself onto her knees, daintily sitting at the nobleman’s side. Dongmae is less covert, simply plopping down onto the tired roots of the First Cherry Tree. Huiseong looks up with a welcoming smile, lowering his book.

“You’ve come out of your abode at last,” he remarks with a cheerful lilt in his voice. “How fortuitous!”

The pair blush, Dongmae looking away to hide a smirk. Huiseong notes it, but says nothing. He is happy for his friend to have found joy and love in the afterlife. In his opinion, they both deserve that and more.

Hina decides it’s safest to change the subject. “Where on Earth did you find that book? I’ve yet to see a library here.”

Huiseong’s gaze is back to his book, humming softly. “Ask and ye shall receive,” he says loftily, to which Dongmae kicks him in the shin. Huiseong winces, glaring at his friend. “If you ask the right people, enough times, you’ll find the bookstore.”

“So you annoyed someone into disclosing the location of a bookstore,” Dongmae surmises, snorting when the nobleman clicks his tongue in annoyance. The petals fall around them, and the young man is momentarily distracted by the sight.

“So it is time…” he sighs, closing the book.

All three rise, turning toward the gates. The walk is brief, even if their steps lag in hesitance. There is a dichotomy to their countenance as they stride toward the newcomers; a melding of pleasure, dismay and mourning.

They find Aeshin’s servants already at the gate, their hands joined as they peer anxiously into the bright light that blocks their view of the river and the bridge beyond. More people join them, materializing almost out of thin air. A beautiful lady and her husband, an aged clergyman, the elderly Lord Go, Officer Jang, the tavern owner and many more people unknown even to Kudo Hina. The gates hum, vibrate and grow even brighter. Silence settles over those gathered, awaiting the new arrivals. It has been many years since their parting and they have been dearly missed.

Together, they wait.

To be Continued…

All dogs go to heaven. This is fact.

#fanfic #MrSunshine #Gu Dong Mae #Kudo Hina #kudohina #Kim Hui Seong #fanfiction #The Better Ending #TheBetterEnding

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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I'm obsessed with A Better Ending! Just what I needed after the devastating finale of MS, I'm still recovering from it. Just want to know if there is a chapter 7? Since it went from chp 6 to 8? And is there a masterlist? I'd love to read all that you've written! My #EuShin heart needs it😂

Oh, is chapter 7 missing?? Because there most certainly is a chapter 7. OH EM GEE, tumblr took it down, probably because it contained lemony-goodness. It's also on fanfiction(dot)net, under the same name.

My username on ffnet is "Hiei's Cute Girl", since it's from LONG ago. It should be easy to find.

If you go to the main page (on your cpu), you'll see various tabs. Among them is one called "Mr.Sunshine fanfics" and you'll find the master-list there for BE's full chapters.

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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the godfather au when aeshin is daughter of mafia leader and eugene is local man who become her husband

Oh, oh, OH. I'll see where I can set that up and you got yourself a story, chingu!!! I love everything about this prompt.

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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I shot a Black Bird

All this run around has only managed to piss him off. The black shooter on the rooftop is a pain in the ass, being not just an impressive marksman, but also a man of wit. Dongmae turns from the shattered phone, shouting in anger. If the train must leave without him, he may as well just target the shooters of the Righteous Army who are present. Even if he can’t get his hands on the runaway Geisha, he can extract other kinds of information about their organization from them. He runs outside in an instant, racing after the running figure in billowing black.

The man is agile, jumping from rooftops and ducking under obstacles without losing momentum. One of his men shoots at the gunman, only to be struck down in return. Dongmae ducks, snatching up the gun, and keeps running. He’s not exactly good with guns, but he can shoot down a target as large as a man if he aims for the chest. Gauging from the black gunman’s speed, this person is only just hitting their stride. The Righteous Army gunners could run for days, if necessary. Dongmae’s men aren’t runners; they’ll never keep up with the black gunman. If something must be done to capture the black gunner, they’ll have to incapacitate him.

As he runs, chasing him across dizzying twists and turns, Dongmae assessed his surroundings. If he must shoot in this mess of panic, he’ll need higher ground. Spotting a tier of stacked crates and haystacks, Dongmae vaults on up to a neighboring roof. He lands, pulling the rifle up to his chest.

Dongmae’s landing is perfect, he has a direct shot. The world slows as he inhales, the muzzle of the rifle following the black gunman as he runs across a rooftop a building away. Something about this person unsettles him; his grip on the rifle loosens. The gunman raises his head and their eyes meet.

Gu Dongmae feels his blood freeze as recognition filters through. He knows this person, this black gunner; this Righteous Army member. Her eyes have always pierced through him, and he forgets to breathe even as he follows her movements with the rifle.

He doesn’t know what Go Aeshin thinks she is doing, shooting for the Righteous Army. He cannot think, but he must act. Her eyes pass over him, dismissing him, as they always have.

If anyone will catch this black bird, it must be him. No one else can touch her. Resolved, he grips the gun tighter and shifts his focus. Just as she jumps gracefully onto the next roof, he fires. The gunshot echoes funnily in his ears and he flinches when he realizes he hit his target dead on. Aeshin crumbles, rolling down and onto the other side of the rooftop. He rises to his feet and jumps down, running headlong to the street his black bird fell into.

There is nothing but a bloodstain.

#MrSunshine #GuDongmae #GoAeshin #Go Ae Shin #BlackBird #fanfiction #mr sunshine netflix

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

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Vampire Eugene, pt 2

For the most part, whenever the townsfolk brought Eugene victims, called “brides” for reasons Eugene didn’t fully understand, they tended to bring them young. Mostly between the age of seventeen and twenty, unmarried and untouched. It seems the people of Joseon held his standards in their own narrow views of what a sacrificial lamb should be. However, there were two times when Eugene had proved these standards to be the safest course of action.

Once, they had brought a woman who had just given birth. A woman of lowly status, a butcher, still recovering from labor; probably thrown in for the sake of offering twenty sacrifices. The townsfolk must have thought the numbers were more important than the life of a butcher’s newborn son. Eugene had taken one look at her and instantly known. He had dismissed the rest of the “brides” with an angry snarl, making the girls run. The young butcher had shivered where she knelt, holding her midriff in obvious pain. Eugene had sat down almost amiably in front of her, his chin on his palm.

“Which village is yours?” he had simply asked. When she had pointed out where she had come from, Eugene had merely smiled beatifically. He’d left her and come back barely two hours later, covered in blood and carrying a squalling babe in his left arm. The woman, agape and shaken, had instantly taken her hungry, angry baby in her arms. Eugene had nodded and left her to do as she wished. She had walked home, breastfeeding her baby as she went, only to find the entire village razed to the ground, aflame and drenched in blood. That had been over twenty years ago, and the surrounding villages had never offered another mother to the vampire.

The second incident had been much more harmful, as the village had decided to offer an orphaned thirteen year old girl. It always baffled Eugene how the good people of Joseon would offer its most disenfranchised and wounded for pain and suffering. The rich evaded the hardships using their money, power and influence. Meanwhile, the middle class would readily put those beneath them in the line of fire. It’s a practice Eugene did not understand. For the most part, he ignored it. He was not in Joseon to bring about a revolution, a power struggle or change. He avoided getting involved in the lives of the mortals. He outlived them, for one. He fed on them, as well. It was best to view them as livestock, not equals. Poor, middle class or wealthy, it mattered little to him. What guided his choices was usually simpler. If the scent of her blood was appetizing, he would choose that victim. If they annoyed him, it pleased him to end their lives. That was a standard he lived by, and held his own head high by.

However, it had appalled him that they would offer him a child. Two years ago, they had brought a young girl among the bunch, huddled in fear and mute in her despair. Eugene had Gwansoo send the rest of the women home with a wave of his hand, then he had knelt before the girl, observing her for almost an hour. After such a prolonged silence, and no fangs, the child was understandably confused.

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” she had asked, looking forlorn and clearly terrified.

He had stared at her a little bit longer, pondering. He was no stranger to eating children. In fact, he was rather fond of doing so, for the sake of torturing the infant’s parents. Especially if it happened to be someone who had crossed him; and a child’s meat was tender, it delighted him. He never went out of his way to hunt children, though. Eugene enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, the torture of a good, savory kill. Children did not make fun targets, nor did their suffering please him. In addition, they were too small to make a very satisfying meal. Even human hunters avoided killing females with offspring during breeding season for the sake of allowing the species to proliferate in a healthy manner. Eugene considered hunting children (and their mothers) rather counterproductive. As such, Eugene magnanimously decided he would not kill this child.

So, he said instead. “No, child.” He had then stood up and swept back to his throne of bone. The girl had sat, wide-eyed, for a good few minutes of silence.

“But… you always eat the girls you keep,” she said, a little unwisely to Eugene’s mind.

Still, he chose to answer. Her voice was quivering with fear, but something in her dark eyes made him want to answer. It’s a dash of hope, something he had not seen in a human face in more than a century. She may be questioning him, but she’s trusting him. It pleased him to fan her hope, if only to see it bloom.

“Yes, indeed,” he remarked, taking a seat. “But you, I shall not keep. I do not enjoy eating children.”

She stood abruptly, and Eugene wondered if she would run. He hoped not, he wished to see her emotions play out a little more. To his surprise, she surged forward, falling to her knees only feet from his throne. Not even Gwansoo dared to come so close to the vampire. Eugene lounged on his throne, interested.

“Oh,” she said softly, staring at her hands. “Well, do you keep children?”

Confused, Eugene wondered what she was getting at. He cocked his head, keeping his silence. Reading something encouraging on his face, the girl elaborated.

“Sacrifices who come back aren’t treated well in my village. I’m the eldest of five; I was the only source of income for my family. They offered to take care of my siblings if you chose me, and if I go back… they might hurt my family.” She explained, wringing her hands. “I don’t want my family to be stoned or worse. In two years, I’ll be a lady! I f you’re patient, you can eat me then!”

She stared up at the vampire, very clearly serious. In all of his years, no human had ever begged him to take their life. Most of the time, it was the opposite. They would shout they did not want to die, to please be spared. A very rare few would tolerate their impending doom in total, resolute silence. This… was new.

Intrigued despite himself, Eugene leaned down to look the child in the eyes. She flinched, still afraid. She had heard stories of him, and she didn’t doubt all of them were true. The vampire stank of blood and carnage, and being this close to him terrified her to the soul. However, the child kept still, only lowering her gaze in the presence of this predator.

“For your siblings, you would choose to remain here… and die.” He asked, if only to be sure. The girl nodded, and her scent proved her lack of guile.

Eugene grunted, leaning back into his seat. “Very well, you may stay. Tell my translator to come inside, please.”

The girl had shot to her feet, bowing multiple times in gratitude. She turned and fetched Gwansoo, who had been on stand-by just outside the throne room. Confused, but glad to see the child alive, he’d come in.

“You asked for me, Master?” Gwansoo bowed, holding the child behind him. He was among the few humans Eugene was fond of, but the man was ever-vigilant with the vampire. Any misstep could be fatal. He’d spoken English, confusing the girl.

“Accommodate the child on the premises,” Eugene declared in English as well. “And bring her family to me. I will see them taken care of myself.”

Gwansoo had stared at his Master in horror, but done as he had been told. With Eugene “taken care of” could mean all manner of unspeakable things. To the man’s confusion and delight, Eugene had taken one look at the children Gwansoo had brought and simply… adopted them. Sumi, Domi and the rest of their siblings had been living in the palace for the last two years, enjoying the luxuries of good food, constant baths, a fire and a bed. The children all clearly adored the vampire, however odd it was, and the ancient creature didn’t seem to mind them or their noise.

Their village, however, hadn’t been quite so lucky. Eugene didn’t like people who preyed on those beneath them, so he began hunting the villagers. One by one, they would disappear, then turn up as half-eaten corpses. Eugene had gotten particularly creative in the placement and staging of his victims, slowly driving the entire village mad. Until, surely, the humans in the village turned on one another. It had been a disaster, wiping the entire village right off the map in the wanton destruction, murder and savagery that took place.

When Gwansoo had delivered the news to his Master, Eugene had chuckled darkly. He’d gone out that night and come back whistling with bodies piled up on a cart. The vampire then went on a week-long binge, feasting on the flesh of the corpses on the village… then he’d come out with grotesque statues using the different body parts of his victims. He made mismatched scarecrow-like beings, horrifying chimeras and monsters, and even a totem pole of flesh and bone.

He’d decorated the dilapidated village with his sculptures; a warning for all who saw it.

Since that moment, no one offered the vampire a victim younger than seventeen.

#VampireEugene #MrSunshine #EugeneChoi #CaptainEugeneChoi #fanfiction #vampirestory #vampire fiction #sumi #domi #GuDongmae

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

Text

Vampire Eugene

Eugene sits upon his throne of bone, gazing at the gathered ladies from a nearby village. For some reason, about forty years ago, the villagers around his dwelling had come up with the idea that offering him a virgin female every once in a while would appease his hunger and protect them from his fangs. Though Eugene still hunted several of their townsfolk if it pleased him, he wasn’t going to disabuse them of the notion. Female flesh and blood was particularly sweet and supple, especially from the younger women. Being fed pleased him, even if it didn’t entirely satisfy him.

The women tremble before him, as the village translator does his best to calm them down. He almost never spoke to the townsfolk, and those who heard his voice were never alive for long. However, ten years ago, he’d spoken English and found the confusion and terror of the people hilarious. It had become his greatest entertainment. In response, they had hired a young man who was fluent in Western Languages two years ago. To Eugene’s horror, the young man was witty and smart. Enough that even an old vampire like Eugene couldn’t help but grow fond of the silver-tongued boy. Gwansoo had grown comfortable to an almost insulting degree around Eugene, but he was under no false impression as to the true nature of his Master. He had been witness to enough of the vampire’s feedings to avoid feeling any kind of sense of security around the ancient creature. He knew that whoever was selected among the ladies would be promptly torn to shreds. If they were lucky, of course. Sometimes, his Master was perverse enough to play with his food.

Gwansoo had only seen it once. Eugene now did him the courtesy of asking him to leave if he was in a cat-and-mouse mood.

Still Gwansoo does his best to calm them down. His master does not like hysterical women. In one instance the villagers cannot forget, the women had been so vocal and upset, Eugene had slashed the throat of the lot in anger. All twenty women, they said, dead in a flash. Gwansoo has been calmly talking to them about nonsensical things for the past few minutes, as his Master lounged and watched them all behind hooded eyes.

Now, his Master stood, his head slightly cocked to the side. Gwansoo follows his Master’s golden gaze, which falls upon a lady who sits at the very edge of the group. She stands apart in her finery, sitting upright and primly on the cold wooden floor. It’s the granddaughter of the wealthiest man in the village. Most of the nobles have sent their daughters off to “study abroad”, but Lord Go believed in no such things. Lady Go Aeshin must have turned seventeen this year, for her to be offered to the vampire. She sits with her hands folded in her lap, her gaze fixed on the wall just beyond the throne of bones. She doesn’t even flinch when Eugene comes to stand before her, his cloak pooling like a shadow barely an inch from her knees.

When Eugene points at the loudly wailing woman, then waves his hand, Gwansoo obeys. He’s made his choice.

The rest of the women are escorted out by wan, unhappy slaves, but Lady Go Aeshin stays kneeling. The Master is still standing before her, and it would be rude if she should exit without being directly dismissed. Gwansoo, as he ties the now screaming woman, wonders if good manners have ever been the death of anyone. His eyes search his Master’s face, but Eugene is inscrutable. Bowing, he makes his exit, dragging Guidan out. She will be locked and fed properly until it pleased his Master to feed on her.

Eugene continues to stare at this defiant young woman, interested in spite himself. There have been many women over the course of his existence. Some have approached him, seeking to share his eternal youth. Others have begged him to be their lovers, hoping his hunger would be appeased by sexual favors. He had killed every single one of them. As all of them, without exception, had stank of fear.

This lady, though, sat entirely devoid of fear.

He crouches before her, seeking her gaze. She meets his eyes, then demurely lowers hers. She is behaving as though he were simply a human noble. Perhaps she doesn’t understand his nature? His lips curl in distaste, wondering if her bravery is based on idiocy or ignorance.

Gwansoo is already at the door. “Gwansoo, bring her here,” he says in English, his eyes glowing faintly. The lady’s eyes slide up to his and she starts in surprise. His golden eyes are luminous as he allows for his hunger to show. His fangs elongate at the prospect of a meal, and he relishes in the way her eyes round in terror. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch away from him, standing her ground as she watches him. Gwansoo brings the screaming victim to his Master, but merely leaves her halfway across the throne room. He knows Eugene well enough that, once the feeding starts, the vampire will be unable to differentiate between friend or foe. At least, until he is sated. However, Eugene doesn’t instantly dive for his victim, staring at Guidan as she squirms where Gwansoo made her kneel. He jerks his head toward the lady, “make her watch.”

Gwansoo runs across the room, sliding in place and apologizing as he forces Lady Go Aeshin to turn and look as Eugene circles hungrily. “He wants to you watch, my lady,” he whispers urgently, wanting the lady to understand how important this is. This isn’t the first time Eugene has taken two victims, forcing one to watch as the other dies. It is a particular game the vampire enjoyed. And should the second victim look away, that victim suffered a long, agonizing death. “You must watch. If you don’t, he’ll make you pay dearly for it.”

Go Aeshin’s eyes are wide, but there’s a determined light to them that gives Gwansoo hope.

Together they watch in abject horror as the feeding begins, the throne room echoing with the terrified screams of Eugene’s victim. She thrashes where she kneels and Gwansoo knows his Master is being particularly vicious this time. Sometimes, he’s kind to his victims, giving them an instant and painless death. Guidan seems to have awoken something primal in him and the vampire feasts with a warped pleasure as he feeds on her flesh, blood and pain. The crunch of bone makes Gwansoo flinch and a tremor run through Go Aeshin’s body where she still kneels.

Eugene rises, his eyes still glowing somewhat as his hunger recedes. It’s rare for the vampire to finish the entire body in a single sitting. Eugene stalks with deadly grace toward his crouching translator and kneeling guest, his cloak sweeping behind him and soaked in blood. Eugene rarely eats messily, but his face, white chemise and chest are all covered in bloodstains. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip, catching the beads of blood that remained in a single swipe. He smiles, his fingers curling outwards, signaling for Gwansoo to get away from his guest. Gwansoo jerks to his feet and bows, beating a hasty retreat.

Eugene comes so close that his cloak brushes the lady’s knees. Her hands are still on her lap, but clenched around her skirt. Eugene observes her with interest, crouching once more to seek out her gaze. She meets his eyes just as fearlessly as before. Though she does have a scent about her that speaks of fear, it doesn’t have the same rank odor Eugene knows.

“You are not afraid,” he remarks in Korean, the words perfectly fluent, natural and understandable.

She blinks, clearly not expecting him to speak in Korean, but rallies admirably. “No.”

“Why?” he asks, his bloody hand reaching out. She leans back a bit, but manages to stop herself from retreating. There’s no disgust on her face, but she doesn’t look pleased as he stains her cheek almost perversely. A budding desire blossoms in Eugene’s bosom, something foreign, but not unwelcome.

“I am angry, rather,” she confesses, if a little unwisely. “But I’m not afraid of you… of death.”

Eugene isn’t sure if that’s heroic or stupid. He tells her so, and smirks when her incensed gaze pierces him. Not even Gwansoo dares to look him in the eye like this. “I see,” he says, mockingly. “And why aren’t you afraid?”

Aeshin stops, thinking her answer through. Her brow furrows and Eugene finally puts a word to the desire in his cold, rotten heart.

“Noble ladies live lives like flowers,” she says softly, touching the delicate pattern on her skirt. They’re peonies, and Eugene wants to touch them. He stops himself, remembering the state of his hands. He might have wanted to taint her cheek and skin, but he respects her clothes. They’re a symbol of her status and her virtue; he would not destroy that. “I will live like a flame, instead.”

Noting her word game, he smiles faintly. “Flare, then go out?” he asks, wiping his hands on his cloak. She nods slightly, and he stands, offering his now clean hand. She stares at it, wondering at the elegance of a hand which had, not too long ago, torn a woman apart with ease. Aeshin takes his hand and he pulls her to her feet, gently leading her to the door. She stands at the threshold of his throne room, appropriated from the Joseon king well over a century ago. He smiles at her again, and Aeshin breathes deeply. Reminding herself of the scent of blood that shrouds him like a shadow.

“Come back tomorrow, my lady,” he invites. Aeshin wonders if she really has a choice. His grip on her hand tightens, evaporating the idea of free will. “Please.”

Aeshin nods, hiding her small smile. The vampire’s interest, at least, would discourage her grandfather’s recent attempts at forming an alliance with the Kim Family. His invitation has marked her, one way or another, and Aeshin wonders what his interest in her will bring.

“I’ll be here,” she says, stepping out. The slaves usher her down the dark courtyard, leading her back out the palace walls. She looks back only once at the pale figure still standing beneath the awning, almost hidden entirely from view under his black cloak.

Eugene watches her go, as the feeling curling in his gut spikes.

Anticipation…

#fanfic #MrSunshine #ChoiEugene #GoAeshin #Go Ae Shin #eugene choi #vampire fiction #ficlet

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

Text

The Better Ending, pt 9

Aeshin comes home to an empty house, devoid of husband or children. For the day, Eugene had taken both Sumi and Domi riding, teaching them how to handle a horse. Aeshin had never been an accomplished rider, but Sumi had taken to it like a duck to water. It seems Domi is more like his mother, unable to control his mount and often simply sliding sadly off to the side of the horse. Eugene is an excellent and determined teacher, so Aeshin does not doubt that Domi will soon master the art. However many times his sister rides in mocking circles around him.

At the silence of the house, she can only assume that Joonyoung took off after them, prone to following his teacher and father like a duckling. Something in the air feels off though, and Aeshin begins to prowl. Months of barely avoiding ambushes have made Aeshin very capable of sensing presences of people around her. This is her home, this is her safe haven, this is where her children come to eat and sleep. When she finds the intruder, well, no one will ever find the pieces. So she goes, room from room, hoisting the rifle up under her armpit and ready to shoot.

A sniffle stops her advances just as she reaches the threshold of her room. She pauses, waiting. Another wet sob escapes a niche by her closet, cloaked in shadows. But Aeshin can see the figure huddled there, weeping. She lowers the gun against the threshold, thinking. Joonyoung would probably feel shy and embarrassed to have been found crying. But just like Domi and Sumi, Joonyoung is her boy. Eugene had taken him in, orphaned and angry, and given him purpose. Her husband had given him the tools and the strength with which to live, survive and fight. In her eyes, Eugene had stopped just shy of giving Joonyoung his surname. He may only be ten years younger than her, but he's as much her son as if she had given birth to him. Her husband considers Joonyoung his, so Joonyoung is hers. When Domi and Sumi cry, she lends them her arms, her ears, her shoulder and her compassion. Joonyoung deserves the exact same, if not more.

So she crosses into the darkness of her room, silent, until she drops to her knees at his side. Joonyoung curls up into himself, his red eyes peeking at her over the curve of his knees. He doesn't turn away from her, but he makes an effort to wipe his tears. Aeshin doesn't say anything, merely offering her presence as solace to his pain.

Realizing he won't be scolded for sneaking into his mother's room, Joonyoung's shoulders drop. But as the silence slides past, Joonyoung realizes just how patient Aeshin is. She merely kneels primly at his side, poised but present. Somehow, it's stifling. Joonyoung can't help but speak up. "Why aren't you asking anything?"

Aeshin's eyes slide to him, and she responds by merely curling her arm over his shoulder, bringing him up against her side. She presses his head onto her shoulder, kissing his forehead softly. Eugene is the most affectionate parent of the two, but this has merely made Aeshin's hugs worth gold to her children. Joonyoung huddles into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her slim waist. His mother smells of fresh grass, sun, clean clothing and rain. It's a comforting scent, and he turns his face toward her, hiding his tears. She runs her fingers through his hair, and finally speaks up.

"Would you like to tell me what's on your mind?" she invites, her voice measured and calm. It's soothing, her rock steady presence, and Joonyoung relaxes against her. Amid the storm of emotions, she radiates eternal patience and serenity. It helps him focus his feelings to a more understandable and controllable level.

So he speaks up, pouring the brunt of his pain into a story of a man he knew. A man who had given his family a home, a safe place to stay; a man who had helped his sister live a maiden's life, given her dignity. A man who smiled as though the world itself was beautiful, declaring himself a lover of everything useless. A man who laughed as though life had meaning beyond absurdity and death, giving love no matter the squalls. A man who had died at the hands of the Japanese, bloodied and broken. A man who had not wanted to give Joseon his heart, but had ended up giving Her his life and his soul. A man who drank to the loveliness of flowers and became a friend to everyone. A man who ran from the tick-tock of a clock that stole his joy away. A man he had loved like a brother, admired as a man and cried for as though he had really been family.

Kim Huiseong had been a man of many shapes, colors and sizes. He had been a person unidentifiable by normal means, impossible to contain in a mere tag, a word or an adjective. He was a man impossible to describe and who burst at the seams in Joseon's humdrum society. Huiseong was a man who had run from his problems, but returned for the sake of the one woman who made his heart soar.

Joonyoung tells it all, unable to helps the broken sobs that escape him as he talks of this man, this titan… so he continues to cry. Because today is the day he died.

For a moment, Aeshin's hand pauses from its gentle sweeps across his hair. Her sigh slides across his forehead and Joonyoung sits up, looking into her tear-bright eyes. She smiles, somewhat sadly, and asks if he would like to hear more stories.

Joonyoung nods, crossing his legs underneath him as his mother holds his hands and surprises him. He had known, of course, that Kim Huiseong and Go Aeshin had been engaged to be married. Who didn't? He had not known much, however, beyond what had been available at the market gossip mill. As Aeshin tells him of how she had hated him for ten years for abandoning his duty, Joonyoung leans forward. How she had instantly assumed him to be worthless, as much as Huiseong had seen her as useless. How he had caught onto her double life faster than anyone else and provided help without her knowing. How he had become a friend to her husband despite the horrifying ties between their two families. How, more than once, he had saved her life and the life of her family.

She gives his impression of his older brother more color and life, filling in the shapes until the Huiseong in his head is three dimensional and real.

He remembers the looks between his sister and Huiseong. The pity in the older man's eyes, and the sadness in his sister's gaze; it had been something that Joonyoung had observed, but never understood. As Aeshin sheds more light to her relationship with the notorious playboy, Joonyoung realizes what love meant to Huiseong. The kind of love Buddha alludes to when he says that people who love flowers do not pick them, but nourish them where they grow. Huiseong had loved Aeshin more than the rumors had allowed. He had loved her so much, he made a selfless choice.

He had loved her enough to let her go.

As tears slide down Aeshin's face, she explains how hard it is to live with the sacrifice of another. She had never given it much thought before, until the broken smiles of Huiseong had taught her the true pain of infinite, forgiving love. She tells him how highly she esteemed her fiancé for his bravery, his strength and his confidence. Saying goodbye to him had broken her heart and his death had left a mark on her soul.

"I really liked listening to him talk, mom," Joonyoung whispers, gazing solemnly at the floor.

"I truly admired his flair and his style, son," Aeshin confides, smiling impishly and making her son snort.

So they sit, and trade stories, until they both fall asleep.

Eugene finds them there, curled up against the wall and still holding hands.

#MrSunshine #KimHuiseong #kim hui seong #BetterEndingAU #TheBetterEnding #fanfiction

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

Text

The Better Ending, part 8

Song Yeong looks at the gathered faces of the entire Righteous Army stationed in Manchuria, most of them young, tired and worn. He’s proud of each and every one of them, warriors in their own right, training constantly for the multitude of missions they’re sent out on to foil the grown of the Japanese in Asia. Every year, there are new faces. Every year, they bury friends. It’s a vicious cycle they’re stuck in, stock-piling bodies as a way of paving a path to freedom. It cannot be helped, and he’s forced to reconcile with the idea that he is constantly sending out these young, vibrant people to their deaths.

Tonight, however, is not a missions briefing. Tonight… is mail call.

Every two months, the entire camp gathers to receive the myriad of packages they’re sent on behalf of family and friends. Of course, all of these letters and boxes have been retrieved from a multitude of locations known only to select few in Joseon who are faithful to the cause. It takes a while to gather the packages and check them for any safety hazards, but it’s enough to keep the high spirits of their meager troops. Eugene, sitting in the back somewhere with his wife, always has at least two letters from Gwansoo and Major Kyle Moore. As both men have proven invaluable for their organization, they’re respected and their letters are treated with great affection. That and they’re their most trusted sources of news. Aeshin, on the other hand, constantly receives letters from her aunt and cousin. Both husband and wife often read their letters to the rest of the members of the resistance.

The entire encampment treats the Choi family letters as Righteous Army Official Entertainment. It’s the highlight of mail call.

So, as Song Yeong goes through the crumpled letters, wads of paper, scrolls and tiny packages, he calls out the name of the respective recipient. They stand and gather their things, cradling the letters close and with care. Some receive more than one letter, others don’t receive any.

However, there is one package in a paper bag that doesn’t have a name. It’s from Major Kyle Moore, so Song Yeong could only assume it belongs to the Choi clan. He’d opened it earlier and found about a dozen pairs of boy’s briefs all rolled together in a neat military bundle. It’s odd that Major Moore had not labeled his package, but the Major is so busy in Japan, it sometimes happens to the things he sends. So Song Yeong holds it off until the end, waiting to see if anyone is craning their neck for an additional package. None of the boys seem remotely interested, so he assumes it must be a gift or a surprise.

“Major Moore sent a package,” he calls at last, resolving it best to announce it. “It’s about a dozen boy’s briefs. Whose..?”

He cuts himself off as a hand shoots up in the air, diligent and school-proper. Aeshin’s pursing her lips a bit, blushing as she looks up at him from beneath her brows. Song Yeong smiles, relieved. He’d been worried Major Moore had mislabeled the package and sent it to the wrong place.

“Are they for little Domi?” he asks, looking fondly at his niece. He cannot help but feel paternal toward her, as her only remaining family. She barely meets his gaze, reaching for the paper bag. Aeshin nods quickly, taking the package from his hands. She gives him a small smile before vanishing into the crowd, followed by her husband. Oddly enough, Eugene is red faced, holding a hand over his mouth.

Song Yeong doesn’t see Aeshin elbow her husband, hissing in embarrassment. Nor does he hear Eugene’s response, laughing uproariously at his wife’s face. The pair find their usual seat on an outdoor table with a lamp, placing their packages on the table. Everyone does the same, taking the next half hour to read their correspondence. As both Aeshin and Eugene bend their heads over their letters, Eugene suddenly snickers.

“For Domi…”

Aeshin kicks him under the table.

#BetterEnding #BetterEndingAU #MrSunshine #EuShin #Go Aeshin #Choi Euguene #Briefs #BoysBriefs #PornoExplanation #fanfic

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

Text

The Cobbler and the Farm Girl, prologue

After the initial few days of wildness that came from finding her mother in the kitchen, making dough soup and smiling across the sunlit room, Hyewon could finally head out to town. They were in dire need of some supplies for their home, and Hyewon also wanted to buy a gift for her friends. Eunsook had told her Jaeha had taken good care of her onions, so she wanted to thank them both. The fruit of their labor was evident in the vivid sprouts in her yard and Hyewon had decided to purchase small, but meaningful gifts.

As such, she found herself mounting her bike and riding to the nearest town. The wind whips her hair behind her like a banner, and she smiles at the brightening skies. Out in the country, the days seem to begin with a slowness that she never saw in the city. She’s glad to be home and she revels in the brisk air that tints her cheeks a becoming shade of red. It almost feels as though there is music in the air as the sun climbs, painting the sky a multitude of colors. Hyewon enjoys the view, but keeps an eye out for cars. Despite the early hour, traffic is steady as trucks and cars drive to and from the small neighboring town. Hyewon waves to the people she recognizes, smiling brightly as they greet her jovially. News of her return had hit the streets almost as soon as she’d arrived and the people of her town were glad to have her back.

Though she’s a bit early for the town’s shops to open, the farmer’s market is in full bustle. Hyewon gently tucks her bike at the stand, clipping a tiny lock onto its wheels, and makes her way among the throng of restaurant owners and early morning shoppers. She walks slowly, looking over the different produce and buying some fruits and seedlings to sow on her own farm. The shop owners smile and greet her by name, promising to send her purchases to her home. Hyewon grins and thanks them for their kindness. Done with the chores she’d been given by her mother, Hyewon thus sets off, fetching her bike to walk along the beautifully cobbled roads of the town. She peeks curiously at the different stores, watching as their staff prepares for a day of work. Jaeha had told her a few new stores had opened up recently and Hyewon couldn’t help but look for these shops. Despite having lived in the city, Hyewon still couldn’t stop the country-girl curiosity in her that begged to peek in at these ‘foreigners’ Jaeha had so casually mentioned. She spots an Italian coffee shop, full of beautiful blonde women already manning the counter for the early morning risers. She also finds the new hotel, apparently owned by a lovely Japanese couple, ducking out of sight when a young woman in a beautifully ornate kimono looks her way.

Hyewon keeps walking, smiling to herself. Her curiosity is sated and she finally sets her sights on looking for Jaeha’s gift. Eunsook was easy to shop for, being so straightforward. Hyewon had brought a few cosmetic items from Seoul, including face masks, moisturizers and two lip sticks. She’s sure Eunsook will love them. Jaeha, however, is more difficult. His tastes are bizarre and eclectic, making shopping for him damn near impossible. Most of the things he owns are related to his orchard, but Hyewon isn’t entirely sure what she can add on that front. As she walks, she spots a new storefront, surprised to see it on the outskirts of the town. The English title of “Just a Picnic” draws her eyes, and she stands in front of the modest, yet tasteful building. The wide windows afford a view inside that draws Hyewon’s attention, and she approaches carefully. Its décor is muted, composed of a motley collection of warm browns and blacks. The displays are mounted with a wide variety of leather shoes, ranging from formal to casual in all colors, all of them gleaming beautifully under the bright lights. She also sees leather coats, belts and other clothing items tastefully arranged to look their best in the eye of the customer. Hyewon smiles, finding the store a charming blend of old and new, and wonders if Jaeha has a pair of leather shoes. Knowing him, probably not.

Just then, a gentleman emerges from the back, swathed in a leather apron and a pleased smile. He’s wearing a pair of black, horn-rimmed glasses and a black button-up shirt tucked neatly in his dark jeans. His hair is swept aside, revealing his forehead and his sleeves are rolled back to his elbows. Hyewon stares, open-mouthed, at the handsomest man she’s ever laid eyes on. He takes off the apron, and neatly folds in it to store it under a counter. He moves around the store, checking the displays and dusting the shoes. He picks up one of the shoes, a tawny colored Brogue, inspecting it with a slight smile. As he puts it back down, he turns and heads once more toward the back. Hyewon slams her hands against the crystal, looking furiously for the store schedule. It opens at ten. Hyewon looks at her watch, then at the sun, and then at her watch again.

It’s eight thirty.

With a determined glint in her eye, she turns, mounting her bike. If she hurries, she can go home and get changed, maybe run a comb through her hair. She nearly runs into a tall man with a luscious salt-and-pepper beard. Noting his blue eyes and suit, Hyewon apologizes in Korean and English, before darting away on her bike.

“Say, Eugene”, Kyle calls as he comes inside, tucking the keys back into his pocket. Eugene calls back from somewhere in the workshop, poking his head out. Kyle smiles at his best friend, coming into the small kitchenette between the workshop and the storefront to drop off the breakfast he’d bought at the Italian coffee shop a few blocks away. “Did you happen to see that lovely young woman standing outside?”

At Eugene’s confused expression, Kyle waves his hand dismissively. “Nevermind, then. Let’s eat!”

#Mr Sunshine #Little Forest #Eugene Choi #Kyle Moore #Hyewon #fanfic #fanfiction #happy ending #EuWon

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theloversofmrsunshine · 5 years

Text

President Jin and the Lady, ch 5

With Gu Dongmae’s information on hand, President Jin, rises. His phone is already in his hands and he signals toward the snipers on the roof. The laser lights congregating on Gu Dongmae’s chest disappear, but Dongmae can tell the snipers have yet to stop training their weapons at him. He decides to drop one more bomb, wondering if his wife was right in saying that the mighty President Jin had been ensnared by a black bird in a cage.

“The Mori family is said to be ruthless,” he remarks casually, looking at his nails and pretending he doesn’t see the red dots materialize onto his chest. “It’s been almost three hours. I shouldn’t wonder if she’s dead already.”

President Jin’s steps slow and he turns. Gu Dongmae barely gets a view of his profile, but there is something threatening and bloodthirsty in the shadow of those eyes. Though a smile stretches thin lips pleasantly, Gu Dongmae can tell President Jin wants nothing more than to paint the walls with his blood. “If she is dead,” President Jin says, without a hitch to his tone. “Then you’ll be among the first to know, Oyabun.”

He stops at the door, not even bothering to turn his head. “Do say hello to your wife for me,” he says, casually threatening.

Dongmae represses a shiver, watching until the shark that swam into his waters slides away.

Aeshin doesn’t move as the men pace in front of her, looking furious as they speak in fast-paced Japanese. She says nothing, watching them and crouching on the floor in silence. She’d barely had time to get a glimpse when she was brought in, but she counted at least six exit points and a good dozen windows that didn’t lead to the walled off gardens that seemed to crouch along the back of the building. It’s old, built in Japanese colonial times, and Aeshin could confidently say this building had been in some sort of power struggle. She’d spotted gunshot holes all over the walls and even in the tatami mats. Someone had replaced the vast majority, but she could see signs of what might have been a battle. If her memory serves, there had been some sort of uproar in Suwon among the differing groups of Japanese mafia. Her grandfather had grumbled about it for two days the week before, angry.

For about two hours she’d observed her captors, memorizing their names, faces and habits. None of them were wearing masks anymore, so she’s rather sure they do not intend to release her at all. Judging from their frustration, they might have made contact with her grandfather already. He’d probably refused their demands. That would have been about thirty minutes ago. She’s not entirely certain how they got past her tight security, but she suspects they may have been watching her for a while now. Her thoughts lead back to the slick, handsome President Jin. He’d been circling her like a vulture, slowly closing in on her, hungry for her money and power. She was no fool, she knew his intent since the moment he’d approached her grandfather at a soirée he’d hosted months ago. He hadn’t noticed her then, but she had been standing a few feet from where he’d stood, speaking with silver-tongue eloquence to her beloved grandfather. She’d kept an eye on him since then, wary of his connections.

She shakes her head a bit, trying to clear it. This is not conductive to her present predicament. In fact, she’s sure President Jin isn’t behind this. Thought the Japanese had been very effective in kidnapping her, they’d barely been able to do much else. Had President Jin been behind this, Aeshin is positive more machinations and movements would be taking place. She’s sure she’s in Suwon, about an hour from Seoul; at the complex stolen from an infamous Korean-Japanese Oyabun. If her grandfather doesn’t get here first, from what the men are discussing, retaliation from the Musin Society isn’t too far off. It’s been nearly five hours since she’d been kidnapped, but nothing much has been happening among the gathering of armed men. They’re probably waiting for their boss. They haven’t harmed her, after all. They haven’t even spoken to her.

All of the men snap to attention when a tall, slim young Japanese man steps in. Aeshin watches him warily, wondering if they’ll get around to hurting her now. She’s been working on her bonds since she arrived and she’s positive she’ll be able to slip out of the tape they’d wrapped around her wrists. Aeshin had already broken the one around her ankles, and she’d tucked her legs underneath her to hide the fact. He walks right up to her as another man places a chair at his side. The man takes a seat, smiling pleasantly. “It’s a pleasure, you must be Lady Go Aeshin,” he says in only slightly accented Korean. “I apologize if my men treated you roughly.”

Aeshin decides to keep up the façade he’s attempting to put in play. If he wants to pretend like they’re at a luncheon and not a kidnapping, she’ll be able to draw him into conversation and waste time. Her grandfather has likely already mobilized people to save her. She just needs to stay alive until then. “I have not been harmed by your men,” she says, looking at the gathered Japanese gangsters in their cheap suits and sunglasses. She shrugs one shoulder elegantly, sounding unconcerned. “All things considered, I am well.”

“Ah,” the young Japanese man says, slapping Aeshin across the cheek without warning. Aeshin bites back the yelp of pain, exhaling slowly from her nose. “I forgot to say. I’m Mori Takashi. Please be formal when you speak to me.”

Aeshin blinks, realizing she’d spoken informally and wonders if Mori Takashi has something of an inferiority complex. Deciding it best to keep his violence to a minimum, she gracefully obeys. “I apologize; I did not know you were a person of such high standing.” Aeshin lowers her gaze demurely, her expression unchanging as the tape on her wrists loosens. Takashi is watching her carefully and she hopes he cannot see the sweat beading on her brow. Her hands shake slightly in anger. No man has ever laid a hand on her and this little mafia boss dares… It takes every ounce of her self control to avoid sweeping the chair out from under him.

Mori Takashi laughs in the face of her poise, somewhat impressed by her levelheaded responses. “My men have called your grandfather,” he says, gauging her reaction. “It seems he’s a very hard-hearted man. He told them he’d never negotiate with people like us.”

Aeshin, having expected such a response, says nothing. She has been kidnapped at least on three different occasions, and every single time, her grandfather had refused to cooperate with the kidnappers. Instead, he made hell rain on them by mobilizing his entire sphere of influence. Lord Go Sahong is more fearsome than many people believe him to be. However, it seems that this time, his rescue is taking much longer than usual. Mori Takashi smirks in the face of her silence.

“He must not love you very much,” he casually blurts, perhaps hoping to get a rise out of her. He’d have more luck slapping her again.

Aeshin sighs, wondering why all those who have kidnapped her think her grandfather doesn’t love her merely because he refuses to betray his principles to save her. “You have your answer,” she says, wondering why he’s keeping her alive and making conversation. “So then, what will you do?”

Mori Takashi smiles, grinning widely. “Because while your grandfather may refuse to pay for your freedom, you can surely pay for it yourself. I’ve been told you’re quite wealthy in your own right.” He gestures for something, and a man rushes to place a table and a laptop between them. Aeshin is pulled up to a chair, and she does her best to keep her ankles locked together, praying the tape won’t slip and let them know she’s free. The man pulls at the tape on her wrists, which Aeshin keeps a tight hold of. Seeing her still tied, they boot up the laptop and open a website. Her bank’s main webpage sits blaringly in front of her. Aeshin’s mind races, realizing they’ll try to convince her to wire the money to them, then most likely kill her. She’s seen their faces, after all. Whether she accepts or refuses to pay, she’ll wind up dead. Her eyes slide up to stare at the smiling Mori Takashi, who seems delighted. He’d seen the brief play of emotions on her face, though it hadn’t struck him as odd. The flash of panic had been enough to convince him he had her totally in the palm of his hands. Aeshin flexes her hands, counting the six armed men in the room and wondering how she can best attack to remain alive.

“So choose,” Mori Takashi says, pushing the laptop toward her. “Either you die, or you pay and I’ll let you go.” Aeshin stares hard at the screen, thinking fast.

Then, shots break out.

#PresidentJin #PresidentJinAndTheLady #GoAeshin #GuDongmae #YakuzaOyabun #KudoHina #fanfic

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