jojoannaaaa

[jojoannaaaa]

[jojoannaaaa]

[jojoannaaaa]

[jojoannaaaa]

[jojoannaaaa]

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

[jojoannaaaa]

middle schoolers these days are on character ai instead of mystic messenger. we used to be a society

[jojoannaaaa]

A/N: I have been really into dark romance and shit, ever since I got that TikTok recommendation. I hereby present yakuza!Shinsuke Kita x Reader. Part 1/2

‘Shit. Shit. Shit! I am late!’, you curse yourself as you almost bolt out of the train, as soon as it stops and its doors open.

You accidentally ran into a lot of people, shouting quick apologies over your shoulder, still running to your workplace.

Thank the heavens for your stamina.

Finally arriving at the Tokyo Ambulance Rescue Station, you quickly run inside and each of your coworkers stops what they are doing to look at you.

Huffing and almost wheezing like you’re having an asthma attack, you step inside and head to the female locker room without looking at any of your coworkers.

Already feeling disgusted by your sweaty state, you change into your paramedic uniform nonetheless. 

Now in fresh clothes, you trot your way to one of the ambulance vehicles, seeing your friend Makima checking the equipment in the backpacks and making sure everything is filled up. 

Gulping in nervousness, you approach slowly.

“Glad you decided to show up. Almost done.” Makima tells you in a deadly calm voice. Makima is one of those people who despise being late, whether it's herself or someone she is waiting on. She is only a few years older than you but still your superior. Great, this is just your first month after graduating but you were so tired last night that you forgot to put on your damn alarm for the next morning. 

Not that this is an excuse, but your showing up is all that matters right?

With shaking footsteps, you make your way into the vehicle and start apologizing in a rant.

“Makima I am so so sorry, I promise it will never happen again!”, you frantically explain yourself, still out of breath.

The long-haired redhead briefly looks at you before bursting out laughing and you don’t know if this makes you feel better or worse. 

Giggling, she closes up the i.v. medication backpack and storages it back underneath the cabinet of the bandages. 

“(Y/N) don’t worry about it really, shit happens to all of us. No one is perfect and everyone here at the station was late once. Even me.” Makima explains and you can feel yourself being able to breathe easier already.

Just when you were about to reply to her, your beeper went off with a loud annoying peeping voice.

You run to the rack, where your black jacket with your name and the words T.A.R.S. are stitched into, and hop into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

Reading the screen at the front, you groan at the message that the fire station has sent you.

‘PATIENT PROB OD, TROUBLE BREATHING, UNCONSCIOUS, UNRESPONSIVE ‘

It’s probably the troublesome homeless teenager Denji again. You have met Denji twice now. Once beaten up badly and lying knocked out cold in an alley where he was found by a couple of passengers. The other time you found him almost bleeding to death due to a deep stab wound in his thigh, which he explained he simply got mugged. 

Nonetheless, you press the buttons for the siren and the blue lights, while Makima steps on the gas to rush to the scene. 

The rush and adrenaline are running through your system, making your heart bounce in excitement. Saving lives in acute situations is your thing! It’s a working environment that always comes with new foreign things and patients. Each day is different, which is exactly what your brain needs. Even if you have to drive through the massive city of Tokyo, the different kinds of people and the stories you get to tell your parents sometimes, are worth their shocking and even disgusting expressions sometimes. 

Once you were called to a restaurant, in which a patient had an allergic reaction and went into a nonlethal anaphylactic shock. 

The patient told you that his date was so horrible, that he purposely ate onions, even though he is allergic to them. 

All just to get away from her.

Shaking your head, the logic of men never ceases to amaze you. 

Arriving at the scene, you see two people leaning over a young guy that is laying on the sidewalk. He is already turned to his side, making sure in case he needs to throw up, he doesn’t choke on his vomit. Mentally thanking these people for performing the stable lateral position on the unconscious boy.

You grab the mobile vital monitor and the backpack that includes material for giving an I.V. including meds and an infusion. 

Before Makima grabs the breathing and the medical suction pump, she turns off the siren but leaves the blue lights on. Pressing the lock on the car keys, the ambulance is securely locked. Unfortunately, people tend to break into ambulance vehicles and proceed to steal the medications.

Both women are rushing to the patient, quickly going through the ABCDE approach, and they manage to load him onto the stretcher after making sure he didn’t overdose. His heart is beating abnormally fast, his blood pressure is at 75/40 and when you shine a small flashlight to take a look at his eyes, his pupils are dilated.

There’s no doubt about it, that Denji got his hands on cocaine.

After giving him Adrenaline and Naloxone, his condition stabilises and Denji begins to stir.

Blinking his eyes open, a bright light immediately greets him and Denji swears he died. 

He feels incredibly nauseous and his head is spinning like he just went on countless rides on a spinning wheel. 

You hover over Denji’s pale figure, a vomiting bag already in your right hand. 

“Denji? Can you hear me?” You ask him in a concerned voice.

When Denji was about to answer, he rapidly sits up and snatches the bag out of your hand, and hurls right into it.

Rubbing his back in a comforting manner, you sit beside him on the stretcher.

Makima is giving a quick report to their station boss, before joining you in the vehicle.

The sight of Denji vomiting disgusts Makima, deciding to wait outside because she can’t stand the smell or sight of someone throwing up.

“Denji, I think we should really take you to the hospital, you’re only 16 years old, where did you even get this stuff?” You ask him in a worried voice.

“It’s none of your business, let me out! I need to go!” Denji snaps at you, beginning to stand up. 

You know you shouldn’t fight someone who just woke up from a drug rush, so you let him stand up.

Standing on wobbly legs, he places his hand against the vehicle wall to stabilize his balance.  

Breathing heavily out of his mouth, he was about to open the vehicle door when Makima already beat him to it.

Surprised that he is up, she moves to the side to let him step out of the vehicle.

Denji almost falls flat on his face and his pale face makes you even more worried about him. 

“Denji, are you sure you’re okay? Do you want us to call anyone?” 

“Stop acting like you fucking care about me. I am just a street rat. I don’t need your pity! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He angrily spits at you, like a moody teenager that got his phone taken away. 

Makima and you are watching him walk away, still unbalanced but both of you leave him be.

“You’re welcome by the way for not letting you die today!” Makima yells after him. Denji shows his middle finger up in response and continues to stomp away.

Sighing in defeat, Makima and you get back into the vehicle and you are making your way back to the station.

Giving the report that the patient refused to cooperate and come with you, you drive back.

The clock strikes 22:00 and Makima and you are finally free to change after the night shift has arrived. 

Farewelling Makima goodbye, you begin to walk to the train station.

Having your headphones in your ear, you scroll through your Spotify playlist and choose ‘Glitter and Gold’. 

You had a really busy day and barely had a chance to go to the bathroom. 

Entering the women’s restroom, you look up from your phone, and the sight before you freezes immediately.

Right in front of you stands a very tall guy with sandy-blonde hair, he has to be at least 6’1 and he is holding a lot of tissues against his arm, blood soaking each tissue.

The stranger holds a painful expression while putting pressure on his arm.

His muscled body is leaning against the sink, the blood on his upper arm dripping down right into it. 

Brown eyes rapidly look in your direction, his face shining with curiosity.

Chuckling nervously, he starts talking with his deep voice.

“Don’t scream, don't call for anyone. Just got a little scratch on my arm.” 

Blinking a few times at his wound, you slowly step towards him.

Your approach is making him tense, his non-injured arm moving to his side, where he holds a dagger in case you want to attack him.

“Your wound looks pretty bad. Don’t worry I am a paramedic, I can take care of that if you want to.”

The blonde-haired giant looks at you for a few seconds, making sure you’re not lying. 

After a few moments of tense silence, he nods unsurely.

Breathing out slowly, you awkwardly glance at the door and at him a few times. 

“Uhm. Just follow me then, I need to take a proper look at it. I have my materials at home so come home with me so I can patch you up properly.” You explain to him.

His eyes watch you carefully, hesitantly he nods and puts his maroon jacket back on.

“Do you have a belt or something on you?” You ask him as you both exit the public restroom. 

The tall stranger nods and takes off his belt to hand it to you.

Grasping the belt you begin to tie it around his arm, so the wound hopefully stops the bleeding until you both arrive at your place. 

Wincing at the tightness, he thanks you quietly.

As you both begin to enter the train, which is thankfully empty around this time on a weekday, you ask him what happened to his arm.

“Not that's yer business anyway, so I’d rather not say.” He avoids your curious look. 

“But that wound is pretty deep! You need to go to the hospital and get that stitched up probably.” You try to reason with him.

“I am serious. Drop it.” He snaps at you with an angry frown.

Accepting his request, you decide to drop it. 

With nervous hands, you glance down at the metro floor and wait in silence to arrive at your destination. 

Ten uncomfortable minutes later, you both arrive at the subway station that is close to your apartment.

Unlocking the door with your key, you enter inside and wait for him.

The blonde hesitates for a few seconds, glancing down the hallway nervously before deciding that you’re not a threat, and enters as well.

Gently closing the door, you urge him to follow you into your bathroom where your medical kit lies underneath the sink.

You direct him to sit on the edge of the bathtub and he complies without question.

“I need to see your wound properly in order to clean it up.” You tell him while putting on medical gloves and setting the necessary materials like the stitching materials, disinfectant wipes, and fluid, and scissors. 

He winces while rolling up his sleeve to present you with his injury. 

You start by taking a wet washcloth and gently dabbing it around the area, quietly apologizing whenever he hisses and flinches away from the touch.

As you are now able to see the injury better, you see that it’s actually a bullet wound, hence the bleeding was so heavy.

Shocked that he has this kind of injury, you remember that he doesn’t want to talk about how he got it. 

“Lift your arm please, I need to know if the bullet is still in the muscle tissue.“

He gives you an incredulous look since lifting his arm would only worsen his pain. Nonetheless, he complies.

Quickly looking around his arm you don’t see an exit wound, closing your eyes in pity for the stranger, you know what you are going to say next, definitely won’t be easy.

“Let me guess. That thing is still in there.” He looks to the ceiling of your bathroom with a tight smile.

“U-Uhm yes. I told you to go to a hospital. It needs to be surgically removed. I really recommend it Mr….”, you drift off as you don’t recall knowing his name.

He looks at you and realizes he’s never introduced himself to you properly. 

“Name’s Atsumu Miya, ya can call me Atsumu.” 

Later on, Atsumu enters the familiar door of the headquarters of the ‘Fox Den’ and lets out a heavy sigh.

The pent-up frustration from the fight with Karasuno, the pain, and the treatment that he had to bite through with you is making his body insanely tired from exhaustion. 

Nonetheless, he needs to give a report to his boss, the leader of the Inarizaki gang of Hyogo. 

Atsumu walks down the hallway that has multiple doors connected to it and since it’s awfully quiet, Atsumu guesses that most members are either asleep or away on missions.

Entering the lift at the end of the hallway, he presses the ‘5’ button for the conference rooms and where also the office of his boss. 

Swinging back and forth on his heels, Atsumu waits until the elevator stops and continues his path to the room of the leader of Inarizaki.

Once he arrives at his destination, he knocks first, before entering.

“Hey Kita, 'm back from the mission." The blonde says when he steps into the office.

A man who has silver hair with black tips in it, is sitting at the desk and he briefly looks up from his laptop with a stoic face, before looking down again, continuing to type something down. 

Ignoring the warm greeting of his boss, Atsumu plops down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and puts his arms behind his head to stretch.

Unfortunately, he completely forgot about the injury on his arm, immediately putting the injured arm down again with a winced hiss. 

The head of the gang looks at his trusted friend before a slight frown of concern decorates his face. 

“What happened?“ he asks in a calm voice.

“Oh, you know the usual. Just some fuckers from Karasuno in our territory and one of them fucking shot me.“ Atsumu explains while gently rubbing over his arm, feeling the wrapped bandage from you underneath his jacket. 

His frown deepens at the mention of their rival gang, the Karasuno crows, but listens quietly. 

“Do you need medical attention? Do you want me to send Ginjima or Riseki up?“ He continues to question him.

“Nah, I am good Kita. Got stitched up by this cute girl that I met while I was bleedin‘ out like a pig in a women’s restroom by the train station.“ Atsumu pulls his sleeve to reveal the bandage.

Kita glances at the bandage on his friend‘s arm, a mix between concern and anger but also suspicion haunts his face. 

He slowly gets up from his chair and rounds his table with slow steps, making his way toward the older twin.

The injured man looks at him with curious eyes while raising his eyebrow in confusion.

The silver-haired man stares at one of his most trusted right-hand man with a neutral expression and puts his arms behind his back.

“Tell me more about this mysterious medic girl.“ He demands.

Atsumu grins mischievously at his boss and begins to tell him about his fight to the encounter of meeting you. 

Yawning, you stretched out your exhausted limbs and climbed into your comforting blue soft blankets. The feeling of your head hitting the cushy pillow makes you sigh in bliss. It was a long day, first the rowdy patients, then getting vomited on by a drunk homeless person that almost overdosed, and then there was the injured blonde-haired stranger you met tonight. You’re not going to lie, it was a whole mountain of stupid to just invite a stranger over to your apartment. Anxiously, you remember, that he mentioned he didn’t want to go to the hospital to get patched up because he needs to stay anonymous. 

The only question is…

Why does he need to do that?

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone vibrates with a message. You curiously pick it up to see what the notification is. 

Eyes widening in shock and also a concern, you glance at your screen.

Unknown number

‘Thank you for taking care of my friend. I would like to repay you some time for your kind service’

[jojoannaaaa]

I DON’T WANT SMUT I WANT FLUFF OR SOME GOOD ASS ANGST GOD DAMN IT

[jojoannaaaa]

awoooga megumi hook me up with your dad i can be a worm too

[jojoannaaaa]

day 1 without ao3: i have gone through all 5 stages of grief multiple times and have invented a 6th. i will not disclose what the 6th stage of grief is.

[jojoannaaaa]

Scout's Honor Mini Masterlist

Teaser (WC: 259)

Chapter One (WC: 2123)

Chapter Two - Coming Soon

[jojoannaaaa]

| in love and lore | two |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: none really for this part, but overarching yandere behavior

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 6.2k

a/n: i made very minor changes in the preview to update it, but none of them are significant enough to really warrant rereading, so you're good to just continue on here. thanks to all the love you showed on the preview, it gave me lots of inspiration to keep writing this story as well as give me the courage to put it out there for people other than myself to read. :)

| one | two | three |

~

You awoke with a start, hands clasping at your throat. The ghost of his fangs sinking into the juncture between your neck and shoulder haunted you, followed by the rush of fire that had flooded your veins as they made impact. The flames had burned their way through your body, so terribly hot that you had thought you were actually burning from the inside out. And as the fire centered around your core, you had thought for sure you were dying, the searing heat threatening to consume you whole.

And then everything had gone dark.

Your eyes snapped open, breath heavy as the events replayed in your now conscious mind. You only managed to keep them open for a brief second, the midmorning sunlight that bathed your body nearly blinding you, and you were forced to close them until you managed to shield them. To your surprise, you found yourself back in the cot you had left the night before, directly inside the encampment’s infirmary. The blanket that had covered you was now tangled around your legs and damp with the sweat that coated your body.

The memory of the night before weighed heavily on your mind, and the familiar setting did little to calm your racing heart. The sharp sting of his fangs piercing your skin was still fresh, but when your fingers prodded against the spot he had bit, no sign of any wound appeared. The skin was smooth and unblemished, which was only unusual only in the fact you held no memory of healing it. In fact, you had little memory of anything that had happened after that moment, let alone how you ended up here. While you had a fairly solid grasp on the events that had occurred, everything had become slightly hazy in your mind, making you wonder if it had really happened or had just been a hyper realistic dream.

“y/n, what are you still doing in bed?”

You were brought back to reality at the voice calling out to you, but in your still groggy haze, you did little more than stare dumbly at the man now frowning at you from above your cot. It took a few seconds for you to recognize him as your superior, Suho. Whether it had all been a dream or not, you found yourself struggling to focus on the current events.

“What the hell happened to you?” Suho’s gaze lightened when he saw the state you were in. “You look awful, n/n.”

“I feel awful,” you replied, rubbing at the headache throbbing at your temples.

It wasn’t just your head. As you slowly became more aware of your surroundings, you began to become more aware of your current state as well. You felt shaky and unstable. Your head was pounding, and there was a strange sort of tightness inside your chest, directly between your breasts. This one wasn’t quite painful, more so just uncomfortable. It left you with a sort of emptiness, as though the fire that had raged through your body the night before had burned a very part of you away, leaving you hollow. You did your best to try and shake it off, but it was like an itch you couldn't scratch and strayed at the forefront of your mind.

“I wish I could say you could sleep it off, but we’re already in over our heads out here. Stock is running low and you’re the only one out here that can replenish it.” Suho’s gaze was sympathetic as he assessed you. “I’ll go see if we have any pep-up potions left while you get ready. Maybe that’ll help.”

You nodded, mumbling your gratitude as you did your best to detangle yourself from your blanket. As much as you wanted to roll over and sleep it off, you knew Suho was right. There wasn’t any time for that.

It took a few seconds for you to steady yourself, head rolling when you clambered to your feet. Once you were steady, you made your way over to the privacy screens to change your clothes and get ready for work. As you went, you did your best to sort out the events that had occurred, once again pondering the idea it had all been a dream. But as much as you wished it was just some crazy, fever dream, fueled by the rumors of the Black General you had heard from the soldiers, you knew that was just wishful thinking. The events may have grown hazy and half-forgotten, but the parts you did remember felt too real and poignant in your mind. You had been certain he was going to kill you, and yet, here you were. Not only still alive, but safely back at the encampment too. What he might have done to you or how you ended up back here was a complete mystery. And while a part of you was curious, you had no major inclination to figuring it out. After your brush with one of the Seven, you had a deep, burning desire to stay as far away from him and the other daemons as possible.

But even if you did want to figure it out, you didn’t have the time or the resources. Suho was right when he said the two of you were in over your heads in work. The pull out of Binna only added to the work you had on your plate already. Stocks needed to be gone through, supplies needed to be replenished, and soldiers still needed attended to. The majority of each of these falling on to you. As terrified and confused as you were at the moment, you simply didn’t have the time or energy to sit and figure it all out. You were at a loss when it came to what had happened to you - because something had definitely happened - but there was nothing you could do about it now. At least nothing that wouldn’t get you in more trouble than you already were. If word about what you had done last night got out, you would be dead without a second thought. The humans were already growing suspicious of your actions, the only thing keeping you safe was their obliviousness to the fact you were no longer partial to whom you saved. The best course of action would be to act like nothing had happened and just pray nothing else would come to you because of it.

And while the situation already left you feeling stressed and anxious, it was nothing compared to the following revelation you made as you changed.

You almost didn’t notice it at first.

In your rush to change your clothes, you hadn’t noticed the trace of gold lining your abdomen until you were fastening the clasp of your pants. Thinking it nothing more than a trace of sunlight peeking through one of the cracks, you paid it little mind as you made to grab your shirt, barely catching the way the gold followed your movements out of the corner of your eye. Confused, you tilted your head to get a closer look, running your fingers against your stomach, finally noticing the way it traced upwards along your chest.

The trace of gold was fashioned into the outline of a sword, the pommel starting at the top of your chest with the tip of the blade resting just above your belly button. The guard was composed of a pair of golden wings, outstretched just below your breasts with a crooked crown hanging around the hilt.

Any sort of peace you might have found that morning left as you quickly pieced the pattern together. The fear that had haunted you the night before returning in full force as you matched the symbol now etched upon your chest to the symbol of the daemon king himself.

You struggled to maintain your footing, having to grab hold of the bench beside you to keep yourself from falling as your brain attempted to process the situation. If you had thought you were in trouble before, it was nothing compared to the state you found yourself in now.

What had they done to you?

Your mind scrambled over the conversation you had with the Black General, trying hard to piece back together what he had said to you in the hopes of figuring out what he had done to you. He had asked what was to be done with you, mentioning something along the lines of wanting to return the favor of saving his life, but what sort of gratitude was a bit to the neck and a mark of the enemy? You had saved their men, saved one of the generals against your better judgment, and in return, they had all but branded you as a traitor to your own people. He had said he wanted to know who you were so they could keep you safe, but how the hell was this mark supposed to keep you safe? If anyone saw the symbol on your chest, you would be hanged in the gallows without a second thought.

It had to have all been a lie. Every promise of showing you no harm and keeping you safe had to have been nothing more than a gentle lie to lull you in and convince you to save him. They hadn’t really intended to do either of those things. They had just wanted to make sure you were someone on the enemy’s side to make sure you wouldn’t talk. The humans would be curious if you started spouting any of the information you had unwillingly obtained in the night, and if the mark didn’t seal your fate for you, the knowledge you had saved one of the Seven would.

“y/n, I laid the potion with the restock lists on your bed. Just go ahead and start brewing when you get out. I’ll take care of the rest for now.”

Once again Suho startled you from your thoughts, giving a slight knock on the screen beside you to notify you of his presence. You were thankful it was him and not any of the other human healers who had been sent out with you. Out of all the ones you had worked with before, Suho was the most lenient with you, and would be less likely to report you for any strange behavior. What he saw as nothing more than the culmination of exhaustion from being overworked, the others might have taken as a sign of suspicious activity.

“Thanks, Suho.” You quickly tugged your shirt on, making sure any and every trace of the mark was tucked and hidden away as you wrapped a belt around your waist. The mere sight of it was making you sick to your stomach, and though hiding it didn’t alleviate the stress if caused, it did help to ease your mind a bit. “I’ll get started on those right away.”

While the situation you had landed yourself in put you on high alert, you did your best to push away any thoughts on the matter away for now, putting your full body and mind into your work. It was easier done than you imagined it to be; the current status of the war giving you plenty to occupy your mind with. You had attended to the majority of the injured soldiers the night before, leaving you with plenty of brewing to do to restock the supplies. With Binna now a lost cause, all time and effort would be poured into defending the last two cities still standing under human control. The majority of the soldiers still alive at Binna would be moving to Yuchae to help defend it; its location putting it directly in between Binna and the capital. You, on the other hand, would be moving back to Maehwa in the upcoming days. None of the council members or higher officials would outwardly declare it, but your talent for potions and healing made you invaluable to them, and they were not willing to lose you in Yuchae. Instead, they would just run you dry over the next few days making potions to stock the city for as long as possible.

The amount of work they had stacked up for you was nearly impossible to achieve in the time you had, especially at the rate supplies had been coming in, but it did allow you some privacy for the time being. Unable to brew any of the potions on his own, Suho took over the rest of the responsibilities for the time being, allowing you to put all your time and focus into restocking supplies, and only ever bothering you every now and again when there was an injury he needed your help with or for a potion they had run out of..

Even if you had wanted to worry about what had happened to you or what the mark that now branded your chest meant, you didn’t have the time to. Your workload left you with barely any time to eat as it was. You were only able to sneak bites here and there, and you were so exhausted by the time nightfall came, you had fallen asleep almost as quickly as your head had hit the pillow.

It was only once your journey back to Maehwa had begun that you had the time to think once again. You had originally thought the forced break of traveling would help with your exhaustion, but you soon found yourself itching for work after the first few hours on horseback. With Suho and the soldiers riding near you silent, you were left with nothing more than your own thoughts to occupy yourself for the following days. None of which helped to calm you down. Even after two days of thinking it all through and trying to understand what might have happened, you were left just as confused as you were before. No matter which way you looked at the situation, you always came back to the same conclusion. You were in deep trouble, and if you weren’t careful over these next few weeks, you could very well get yourself killed.

When the walls of Maehwa came into view on the dawn of the third day, you were surprised to feel the wave of relief the sight caused. Under normal circumstances, you usually despised the city you had grown up in, its high walls and obstinate people leaving you feeling like a prisoner more often than not. But this time, you found yourself relaxing upon your entrance into the city. Your days in the encampment and on the road had left you feeling exposed more often than not, and you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. By whom or from where, you weren’t sure, but the way your chest thrummed throughout the day was beginning to make you paranoid. You weren’t sure what final scenario would be worse. The humans finding out about the brand on your chest, or the daemons deciding they had changed their minds and they didn’t actually want to let you go.

You were sent to work directly upon your arrival, the work left to you having piled up in your nearly two week absence. But just as before, you didn’t mind the work, needing something else besides daemons to occupy your mind for the time being. You might have felt physically refreshed after the journey back, but the weight in your chest had yet to alleviate, making you wonder if it was somehow tied to the golden mark. The idea had seemed ridiculous at first, chalking up the aching emptiness nothing more than a personification of the stress and anxiety building up inside you, but it had appeared with the mark and the way it had kept coming and going throughout the journey began to convince you otherwise. You might have been a half-daemon yourself, but you knew very little of the true extent of power that half of your lineage held. The daemons held their magic close to them, and little about it was known outside their people.

“y/n!” You were swiftly greeted by your elder sister when you entered the small house you shared with her and your brother. “You’re back!” Her face spread with relief as she smiled at you from the kitchen. Despite your continuous reassurances you were kept far away from the fighting, she still worried about you each time you were called away. Though you both knew this wasn’t what truly worried her, but rather the fact you kept sneaking out at night each time you went away. “How’d the new cloak work out for you?”

“It worked just as you had hoped it would,” you replied, hanging it next to the doorway as you slipped off your shoes. “I just may or may not have accidentally torn it when I was out one night.” You knew she would be frustrated at the news, it was a brand new cloak after all, but figured it would be best to tell her when her relief for having you back home was at its highest. “I know, I know, but it’s not all that bad. Just a few cuts around the neck.” You attempted to defend yourself at the exasperated look she sent in your direction at the news, but quickly realized your mistake when her eyes suddenly narrowed.

“And why, pray tell, did it get torn there?”

“It got caught on some branches…?”

You attempted a shrug and a sheepish smile, but neither one seemed to convince her. Her eyes were sharp and clear as she assessed you standing at the doorway and it was impossible for you to match her gaze for more than a few seconds. Your only saving grace was the sound of the door opening back up behind you as your brother returned home.

“n/n, you’re home!” Hyunwoo’s eyes lit up when he saw your figure before him and he didn’t bother with removing his shoes before pulling you in a tight embrace.

“Hey, Woo,” you replied, burying yourself in the familiar touch of your twin.

You hadn’t been gone but a few weeks this time around, but you were more relieved than ever to be back home. The familiar presence of your family filling you with a warmth you hadn’t felt since that night. It didn’t quite fill the hole that had haunted you since then, but their presence did help alleviate it a bit. For the first time in nearly a week, you found the fears and worries that had plagued you just a bit farther away.

“So, n/n, tell me. Were the rumors true?” Hyunwoo asked once Soomin had finished dinner and the three of you settled down at the table to eat. “Was there really a Black General leading the charge at Binna?”

You couldn’t keep your face from blanching at the question, nearly spitting out the bite you had just taken. For just a brief moment you had been able to forget what had happened that night, wrapped up in the familiar jests and groove of being back home. For just a moment you had forgotten the golden mark still gleaming against your chest. But one mention of the man who had turned your world upside down and it all came tumbling back in full force.

“God, really?” Able to read you like a book, Hyunwoo was easily able to take your reaction as confirmation to his question. “I guess that means the other sightings they’ve been talking about are just as true.” His face fell as the realization of what her confirmation actually meant hit. “I would like to say that means they’re starting to get desperate, but I’d say it’s most likely the opposite. The war has dragged on for so long, they’re probably just eager for it to be over now that Yuchae’s all that’s left between us and them.”

“They’ve already started evacuating the city,” you replied, having only taken a few bites before losing your appetite to the direction the conversation had taken. “We made a short detour there on the way back. Most of the soldiers left from Binna were stationed there in preparation for an attack.”

“Do you think it will hold?”

“Perhaps for a few weeks, but…” you sighed, dropping the chopsticks you had been fiddling with in the meantime. Yuchae was a bit larger and more fortified than Binna had been, but you had seen the destruction of Binna with your own eyes. And they had accomplished that much damage in just a few days with only one of the Seven. “No one will outright say it, but it’s a mess out there. You should have seen Binna. Barely a shadow remains of it now, and that was only in a few days. This new king, he’s… different from his father. We could keep the daemons at bay before, but I fear his death was a blow to us rather than the victory we always thought it to be. In just a few years, he’s managed to obtain twice the land his father ever had. And with the rumors of the Seven becoming more frequent, I’m afraid this war will be ending sooner rather than later. And not in the way we would wish it to.”

“Shit,” Hyunwoo cursed, dropping his own chopsticks as the mood came to sour his own appetite.

Ever since the war had started to swing in the direction of the daemons, the council was strangely quiet when it came to the status of the war, not wanting to admit to their people how badly they had begun to lose. They still clung to the victory they had achieved nearly three years ago, when the former king was killed. If it wasn’t for the fact you often traveled outside Maehwa’s walls, you would have been oblivious to what was actually happening. But you had seen first hand the destruction this new king had obtained, and knew the council could only keep up the facade of a victory for so long. Yuchae was all that was left between you, and those walls would only hold for so long. Sooner or later, they would have to accept the truth.

“What do you think will happen?”

Our deaths.

“I don’t know,” you replied, unable to say the words that had immediately popped into your head at his question, but despite the pessimism the situation brought, your mind still went reeling back to the conversation you had had with the Black General.

He had claimed he wanted to know your identity in order to keep you safe from what was to come, but what exactly had he meant by that? While you had long come to doubt the promises from that night, perhaps their intentions had held some truth to them. Maybe he truly had wanted to return the favor and save your own life in return for saving his and the mark had been put in place to keep them from killing you when the inevitable came and Maehwa was attacked. But even if that was true, which you doubted, he was playing a dangerous game. If any of the humans found out about it or just what you had done before the war was over, well, you would be dead before they could think to return the favor. They weren’t the only ones they had to protect you from. The humans could be just as deadly when it came to your life.

“Well, there’s no use in worrying about something that isn’t set in stone. They haven’t won the war yet,” Soomin spoke up in an attempt to alleviate the dark mood that had overtaken their joyful reunion, but you could see your words had affected her just as much as Hyunwoo. “What concerns me the most at the moment is how y/n knew one of the Seven was in Binna.”

“Soldiers talk, Minnie.” You attempted to dodge the question, hating the way her eyes bore into you once more, especially with the way you struggled to hide the way your body betrayed you each time he was mentioned. And this time, there was no Hyunwoo to come in and distract her, who seemed just as keen to hear your explanation as she did. “Rumors were flying around the infirmary and it was just too many coincidences for me to not think they might be true.”

“And yet, despite this knowledge, you still decided to go out and wander the streets at night?”

“I had to! They were going to just leave them there! I couldn’t just let them abandon their own men, not after they risked their lives trying to take back a city the council was well aware was already lost.” You attempted to defend your actions, but even you knew she was right. You had known how risky it was going out at night, and yet, you had still gone. And if you had known what was going to happen to you, you would have never left your bed, dying soldiers or not. “And does it really matter, anyways? I made it back in one piece, didn’t I?”

“What happened out there?”

“What makes you think something happened, Min?” But it was obvious she had long since seen past the charade you had attempted to keep up, her pushiness to get you to talk was starting to choke you up.

“Out of all the nights you’ve gone out, I’ve never seen you like this upon your return. Not even after that first night, n/n. That means something happened out there, something that has you scared.” Soomin’s eyes lightened as she spoke, reaching across the table to take hold of your hands that had unknowingly started to shake.

“I ran into the Black General.” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, the want to bear the truth and release the weight it held on you overcoming you in that moment. You couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. You needed to get it out. “Or rather, his men took me to him.”

“Holy shit, y/n.” Hyunwoo was the first to respond, eyes wide at the sudden revelation you had just dropped on them. Whatever they had been expecting, it hadn’t been this. “How the hell did you get away?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly dragged there against my wishes. I may or may not have gone willingly, but I would have never agreed to go with them if I had known the one they wanted me to save was one of the Seven.”

“He was injured?”

“You might be happy to learn your newest creation was indeed a success, Woo. A weapon powerful enough to take down a Black General, himself.” You sighed, now realizing how stupid you had been that night now that you were forced to relive it. Even without knowing it was one of the Seven you had been sought out to heal, you should have never gone with them to their hideout. That was just asking for trouble and you knew it. “Or at least, it would have been if I hadn’t stepped in and saved him from it before it was too late.”

“You healed a Black General?” Soomin’s eyes had also grown large, the shock of the situation and fear for your own wellbeing overtaking any need she might have felt to chastise you for your actions. “My god, y/n, what the hell were you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all?”

“I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do, Min? Just let him die?” At the resounding yes that followed your question, you couldn’t help but cringe. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should have just let him die, but I just couldn’t do it. I’m not a killer, and I would have had to live with his blood on my hands for the rest of my life if I had just turned my back and left him there. And even if it wasn’t for the guilt I would have felt, who’s to say they would have even let me go if I had refused? They might have just held me prisoner or threatened my own life if I had.”

“She’s got a point, Min. As stupid as it may have been, she probably made the right choice. Who knows what they would have done to her if she had refused to help them.” Hyunwoo replied, sinking back in his chair. “But none of this explains how you got away. There’s no way they would just let you go after that, especially if they knew about your ability. If they were smart, they would have kept you and used you for themselves.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, Hyunwoo’s question one of the same ones you had been asking yourself for days now. “I’m not quite sure how I got away. I think they may have just let me go, but everything’s become sort of hazy now.” Your fingers rubbed at your temples, another headache beginning to bloom as you forced yourself to try and remember what had happened that night. “The last thing I remember is his fangs on my neck. I thought for sure he was going to kill me, but then I was back at the infirmary the following morning as though nothing had even happened. If it wasn’t for the mark on my chest, I would almost believe it had been nothing more than a bad-”

“Wait,” Soomin interrupted. “Mark? What mark?”

“I don’t know how or why, but somehow I’ve been marked with the daemon king’s sigil and nothing I’ve tried has gotten rid of it.” Your fingers fiddled with the belt around your waist before flipping up the bottom of your shirt and exposing the portion of the mark that resided beneath your breasts.

Hyunwoo cursed once more, brown eyes wandering across the gold shining in the lamp light.

“God, if anyone finds out about this, n/n.”

“You don’t think I know that, Min?” You let go of your shirt, burying your head in your hands as the situation you had landed yourself in hit you full force once again. You had thought telling them would help alleviate some of the weight, but now you realized all you had succeeded in doing was pulling them in it with you. “If anyone finds out about it or what happened that night, I’m dead. They’ll hang me at the gallows with the other prisoners of war.”

Your hands unconsciously went to your neck, wondering what it would feel like. Would your death be merciful and end with a quick snap of your neck or would you be forced to hang there for minutes until you finally choked to death.

“And you don’t know why they did this or what it might mean?”

“I’ve been asking myself those same questions for days now, but I still can’t explain any of it.” You shook your head, forcing your hands back at your side. “The general said they had heard about what I had been doing these past few years and that my kindness towards them would not be forgotten. He mentioned something about wanting to save me from what’s to come, but if that was true, why did he attack me in the end? Why did he brand me with a mark that would only kill me if anyone were to see it.”

You paused, trying your hardest to fight the emotions swirling inside you. You had done your best to push them aside the past week, burying yourself in your work instead, but you had known that would only work for so long. Sooner of later you would have to come to terms with the mess you had gotten yourself into. Sooner or later you had to come to terms with the fact you may or may not have signed your own death sentence that night. For it the humans didn’t hang you as a traitor, the daemons might very well simply kill you for your mere existence when the war was eventually lost.

The reality of your death was beginning to close down around you, nearly as suffocating as the noose they would wrap around your neck.

Was this what the soldiers felt like before you found them? But unlike them, no one would be coming to your rescue.

Don’t worry, angel. We won’t let anything happen to you. Anyone who so much as touches you will face the full wrath of the daemon king.

“Did you hear that?”

You jumped at the voice that rang inside your head, unsure if you had just imagined it or not. It hadn’t been either of your siblings, having sounded like it had originated inside your mind instead. Which was absolutely insane and you knew it, but even if it hadn’t been, the voice was foreign and unfamiliar. It hadn’t been either of your siblings.

“Hear what?” Hyunwoo asked, eyeing you closely.

“I… I thought.”

Your words trailed off, waiting to see if you would hear it again, but everything was silent. Had you just imagined it? You must have, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you hadn’t. The words rang through your head, repeating themselves. They hadn’t been your own. You hadn’t said them, let alone have thought them, and yet they had run through your head as clearly as though someone had spoken them out loud.

But if it wasn’t you, then who?

And though you knew the answer to your question long before you even asked yourself it, you couldn’t stop the new wave of terror that flew through you. It didn’t matter that the words had seemed to come through with the intention of comforting you, the thought of them doing something else to you once again hitting you full force.

“y/n, are you okay?” Soomin spoke once more, reaching for your hands.

No, you weren’t okay. You were the farthest from okay that you could possibly be. But you couldn’t tell them that. They were worried enough as it was, you couldn’t stand to worry them anymore.

“I- I’m fine. I think it’s just my exhaustion catching up on me. Between the daemons and work, I haven’t really slept much this past week.”

Sure, you were exhausted, but this wasn’t your exhaustion coming through. The voice had been real, and nothing about it had been comforting. Were they spying on you? Was this what the mark had been for? As a way to use you as a vessel for them to spy on the human forces?

The thought left you shivering, more afraid by the thought of them reading your mind or using you as an unwilling spy than the words that had been spoken or the threat that had been placed against anyone who threatened your life.

“Why don’t you go get some rest, then?” Soomin’s eyes were soft when she squeezed your hands. “I know that’s easier said than done, but try not to worry about what happened too much, will you? We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll start experimenting in my free time and see if I can’t come up with a rune that’ll hide the mark for the time being. But for now, you are home and you are safe, and that’s what truly matters.”

You nodded, giving her hand a slight squeeze in return before following through with her suggestion and heading to their shared bedroom to sleep.

It took a while, the amount of thoughts going through your mind combined with the hushed whispers your siblings thought you couldn’t hear making it difficult to actually fall asleep. Your ears caught on to each of their words, straining to hear what they were saying in your absence and how they truly felt about the situation you had landed yourself in.

They were scared for you. Not only were they scared for your well-being and safety, but for your mental state as well. Your current state could be brushed aside for exhaustion now, but they knew you and they knew how much it was weighing on you and how badly you would tear yourself up because of it. It all made worse from the fact that there was very little they could do for you.

Their fears weighed on you, adding to your own, and you curled yourself up into a tight ball to try and alleviate some of the shame and disappointment you felt at dragging them into this mess with you. If your mistake ended up killing you, then so be it. You could live with that. But you couldn’t live with it if it hurt either of your siblings. You didn’t know what you would do if your mistakes got either of your siblings killed.

You laid awake for hours into the night, mind still reeling far past the time Soomin joined you in bed. But eventually, your exhaustion finally caught up with you fully, and no matter how much your mind reeled, you found yourself struggling to focus on the thoughts running through your head. And eventually, you found yourself slowly sinking into unconsciousness, the fears that had haunted you for weeks finally slipping away, if only for a brief moment.

~

taglist: @layzfeelit @calirix

[jojoannaaaa]

| in love and lore | ten |

pairing: ot8 ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, some violence, mentions of blood

wordcount: 8.5k

a/n: so, i know it's been a minute, and i'm sorry. i'm just a little bad about writing multiple stories at the same time as i get super absorbed in one or the other. but, it's finally here and i hope you all enjoy. i know at some point i said we'd have a yunho moment, but sadly that has been moved to the next chapter, but don't worry, it's coming! once again, thank you for all the support and love!

| nine | ten | eleven |

~~~

My blood is on my own hands.

The words replayed inside Hongjoong’s mind, repeating themselves over and over again and the way you had curled back into yourself when you had looked at the dead body beside you one last time haunted him. It was the same state you were in now, nearly half an hour later. You had managed to secure your thoughts well enough from them, but your emotions leaked through the walls you had built inside your mind, filling him and the others with the guilt that racked your body. 

It took everything in him to not go to you in that moment, desperate to ease your mind and convince you that none of this was your fault. If anyone were to be blamed for what happened, it was him. It was his fault the borders of the camp hadn’t been secure enough and his fault for allowing you to be in harm’s way. He should have never dropped his guard around you. He should have never left you alone. He should have made sure one of them was around you at all times, but he hadn’t. He had let himself grow lax with your safety and had nearly lost you because of it. What would have happened if one of his men hadn’t heard you and came to investigate? What if he hadn’t gotten the message relayed in time? Would he have still gotten to you in time? Or would it have been too late?

He struggled with this last thought, uncertain what he would have done if he had lost you tonight. He had just found you, had just finally gotten you; and the thought of losing you just after finally having you in his hands sent a wave of fear running through him that he hadn’t felt in years.

He remembered exactly what had happened to Seoyun all those years ago, remembered exactly how much the death had hurt her. And even now, nearly a decade and a half later, she wasn’t the same. A part of her had died that night alongside her mate. 

The thought of going through that very same thing terrified him. It left him fighting every fiber of his being that yearned to never let you out of his sight again, to keep you right by his side for as long as he could. It left him fighting the urge to lock you away, somewhere no one could ever get to you. Somewhere no one could ever hurt you. And despite knowing you were completely safe and secure in Jongho’s hands, he still couldn’t get rid of the urge to be with you himself. 

“Hongjoong.” He hadn’t noticed he was moving until Mingi stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Rushing her isn't going to help right now.” 

Hongjoong nodded, collapsing back down in his seat. He knew that, but the urge to make things up with you was still there. The apology he had given you earlier replayed itself in his mind, reminding him of how flat it had seemed to fall. If he could just go to you for a minute and convince you that it was his fault, that he was to blame, perhaps…

“Jongho's got her, see?” Mingi replied, taking note of the way your emotions had temporarily lifted, the guilt that had racked your body disappearing for just a moment. 

But despite Mingi’s assurances, it was clear he and the others were of a similar mindset. Though a relative silence had settled amongst those who remained in the camp, he could feel the tension that had settled between them. Each one of them fighting the same inward battle as himself because they had failed just as he had. They had sworn to keep you safe, that nothing would happen to you, but they had very nearly lost you tonight. The notion made all the worse knowing it had happened right under their care. 

“The camp should be secure now.” San interrupted their conversation as he made his way inside their tent, wrapping a cloth around the palm of his left hand to stop the bleeding. “I put another barrier up around your tent as well, Hongjoong, ensuring we’re the only ones who can get to her at the moment. I know she doesn’t think it was one of our men who did it, but I didn’t want to take any more chances.”

Hongjoong nodded, fully realizing that was something he should have thought of himself when he had doubled the guard for the rest of the night. And he would have, if he had been thinking clearly, but he hadn’t. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try and access his memories?” Wooyoung brought back the topic from earlier as San collapsed down onto the cot next to him, not quite content with his earlier answer. “I don’t think there’s any harm in trying; not as long as we have the antidote in hand.”

“No, I don’t want to risk it.” Hongjoong shook his head. Wooyoung had made it clear he had no qualms risking his life by ingesting the dead daemon’s blood in an attempt to piece together what exactly had happened tonight, but the idea hadn’t sat well with him or the others. Not with the bloodsbane that still contaminated it and not after what had happened to you. He couldn’t go through two scares like that in one night. “Not when we don’t even know if it would work. You’ve never ingested a dead man’s blood before.”

“Well, what about hers, then?” Wooyoung was quick to ask instead. “Perhaps we could get a better idea of what exactly happened if I saw-“

“No.” Mingi cut his second idea off before he could finish it. “She already hates that she can’t keep her thoughts to herself because of the bond. Imagine how she would feel if you were to go through everything she had thought and experienced over the past day.”

“But if I asked her first, maybe-“

“You really think she would agree to that?” Seonghwa leaned forward in his seat, settling his chin into his hand. “That she would just let you shift through her thoughts and feelings of your ride with her from earlier?”

“But if it’ll help us find out who-“

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s voice served as a warning, but he wasn’t upset, not when he knew all the younger daemon wanted to do was help. “y/n already went through everything she remembered with us, so I doubt you would be able to gain any information that would prove beneficial. The best course of action at the moment is to wait to hear back from Yunho and Yeosang.”

“And have they found anything yet?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong closed his eyes, reaching out towards the bond that tied himself to Yunho. The tent he was currently sitting inside faded from view, turning into the forest they had been traveling through the past few days. The woods were dark this time of night, the trees surrounding them blocking the majority of the moonlight, but he could just make out the shadowy figure of the wolf Yunho was using to track just a few feet ahead. Once Yunho had caught sight of the tracks near the original attack site, his shadow beast had been able to catch the scent of the person who had been there. Unsure of what exactly waited on the other end of the trail, he had sent Yeosang with him to hide their presence and given orders for them to stay out of sight and await further instructions once they reached the end of the trail. 

Have you found anything? Hongjoong repeated the question to Yunho, hoping he had more information than what he was seeing at first glance. 

“No,” Yunho’s voice was low, breathless from the time he had been running, “but I think we’re nearing the end of the trail.”

Sure enough, Yunho’s observation was correct. Just a few moments later his beast came to a stop at the edge of a small clearing. Even knowing they were fully covered from sight with Yeosang’s ability, they still came to a stop beside it, peering out into it from the cover of the trees in search of a sign of those they had been tracking. 

“No one’s here.” Yeosang was the first to make the observation, quickly taking note that though there were clear signs of a makeshift camp at one point, the clearing was now abandoned. There were no visible signs of anyone still being within the surrounding area, quickly scattering before any form of retaliation hit them. 

Hold your cover for just a moment longer. Hongjoong pulled back from Yunho, bringing himself back to his current position at their camp. He turned to Seonghwa beside him, ready to meet up Yunho and Yeosang. “They’ve made it to the camp.” 

He didn’t have to convey anything else for Seonghwa to nod his understanding and take the wrist Hongjoong extended in his direction. Despite being long used to the mechanics of Seonghwa’s ability, he still tensed as his fangs sunk into his skin, taking in the blood he needed to transport Hongjoong alongside him. 

In a matter of seconds, he had joined the other two miles away, taking in the site with his own two eyes. Yeosang had been right in his assessment, besides the three other daemons currently with him, he didn’t sense any other auras in the surrounding area. Whoever had been here before was now long gone, taking off into the night. 

And why would they have stayed? While the true intent of their attack was uncertain, it was clear they had attempted some form of secrecy with it. Whether it had been just a means to scout them out, sneak inside and find a way to him, or something else, he wasn’t sure, but their plan had failed the moment you had shown up. You had unknowingly ruined their plan, causing them to turn heel and run for the time being. 

“Should I have Haru track them further?” Yunho asked, scratching his shadow beast behind its ear when it nudged its head against his hands. Despite not truly being alive, Yunho’s beasts acted strangely lifelike, uncanny only because of how different they were from his predecessor. Yunho’s care towards the beasts clearly showed in the way they manifested themselves with his blood. 

Hongjoong was silent at first as he approached the clearing, taking in the dying embers of a fire. Whoever had been here, had left in quite the hurry, not bothering to hide their previous presence there. By the amount of tracks littering the grounds, the group had been small, no more than a handful. Whether they had been human or daemon, however, it was impossible to tell, but he leaned towards the latter. Something strange had gone on tonight in the attack, something that only became possible with the daemon’s maetha. 

Though they had quite the head start, there was no doubt they would be able to catch up with the group. As long as they had a hint of one of their scents, Yunho’s beast would be able to track it for miles. Whether or not that was the best way to spend their time and resources at the moment, however, he was unsure. 

A part of him was well aware it might have been in their best interest to just let them go. Tracking them down could very well take days to complete, spreading his guard thin, especially Yunho and Seonghwa, who would carry the majority of the work on their own shoulders. And if Seonghwa was right, if it was part of the militia groups that had caused mayhem for his father, there was a very good chance they would never find them at all, wasting all of their time. It might very well have been better to just stay on the defensive, continue on towards Taeyang with extra caution. The attackers had lost the element of surprise, making it much harder for them to attempt anything else the remainder of the trip. 

But he couldn’t let go of the fact they had hurt you, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let them just get away with it. Accident or not, it didn’t matter; he would make sure they paid for their crimes. He would make sure that everyone knew you were not something to be messed with; that there were consequences to those actions. 

“Are you up for a long chase?” Hongjoong straightened up, turning back to the taller daemon. A part of him was aware you would likely be against this decision, aware you would likely want him to just leave it be and move on, but he couldn’t. Not when the situation had affected you the way it had. Not when he knew his inaction could very well risk your life again. 

Yunho nodded, and the beast at his side sprung into action, beginning to sniff out the trail the previous occupants had taken. 

“I’ll stay with Yunho for now. Yeosang, you can head back with Seonghwa and let the others know what’s going on.” Hongjoong began, fingers itching to be on the hunt. Your words continued replaying in his mind even now, and the sight of you clinging to Seonghwa hit him once more. The only thing he wanted more than to be by your side at this moment was to bathe himself in the blood of the man who had done that to you. “We’ll stay camped where we are now for the time being. San set up multiple barriers, so y/n should be safe, but-“

“Don’t worry,” Yeosang put his hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, “we won’t let anything else happen to-“

“Something’s wrong.” Yunho interrupted them from across the clearing, bent down next to his beast, “Haru can’t catch a scent.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I thought maybe he just needed more blood for the second chase, but even with it, he keeps acting as though their trail ends here.” Yunho looked up to the rest of the group, wiping his bloodied hand against his pants. “He caught something, I’m sure of it, but once he reaches the end of the clearing, it’s gone.”

“And what does that mean?” Yeosang’s head tilted, eyes glancing between each of them. “That they just, what… disappeared?”

“I don’t think so,” Yunho’s brow furrowed, attempting to get Haru to track the scent once more. “I can see their tracks running off in this direction, but Haru doesn’t seem able to track it.” 

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa’s voice was low, etched with worry. 

“I know,” Hongjoong replied, coming to the same solution Seonghwa had. It was one he had known was a possibility all along, but one he had very much hoped wasn’t true. Because if it was, they had much more trouble on their hands than they had originally believed. 

“But why now? Why after all these years do they act now?” Yeosang asked, eyes sweeping the grounds around him in a new light. “What was their goal? What did they possibly hope to achieve tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Hongjoong went over your words once again in his mind, hoping to glean just a bit more information. Your hesitation had been clear, almost certain it hadn’t been their guard who had attacked you in that moment, but he had brushed your worries aside in the hope that you were wrong. Because if you were right, and it hadn’t been one of their own that had attacked you…

“Forget the trail. There’s no way we’ll be able to track them now.” He ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep a string of curses from rolling out. “At least not from the ground. We’ll head back for now, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to get a set of eyes in the skies before we go.” 

Yunho nodded, and his wolf dissolved into the shadows around it, replaced a few seconds later by an owl. It quickly took off into the night, sent out searching for any sign of their attackers from above. Even if they couldn’t track them down physically, any sort of information they could glean would be beneficial, even if it was just the size of the group.

With Yunho’s scout sent out, they prepared for Seonghwa to take them back to camp and tell the others what they had discovered. No one would be happy with the news they brought, and as much as Hongjoong didn’t want to resort to it, he now questioned whether or not Wooyoung had been right. Perhaps attempting to shift through the memories of the dead daemon or your own was the best move to make. Perhaps it would give them information they wouldn’t be able to get elsewhere.

God, he thought this night couldn’t get any worse, but he had been quickly proven wrong. He had thought things would get better now that the war was over, but if they were right - and all signs were beginning to point that way - human retaliation was now the least of his problems. Because if it was them who had appeared tonight, he had a whole new series of problems to attend to, especially if they had found out about you and just who exactly you were. 

~~~

Angel, are you alright?

You looked up to find Jongho still standing before you, faintly aware that he had still been speaking to you. Whatever he had been telling you though, you had missed, too wrapped up with your own thoughts to take his words in.  If Jongho minded, he didn’t show it, simply proffering the items in his hands over to you now that he knew he held your attention once again. 

“Once you’re done, you can sleep here tonight.” Jongho didn’t press you for an answer to the question he had asked you in your head, most likely repeating whatever he had been saying when you had lost focus. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

You nodded, accepting the bundle he handed over to you and setting it down on the table beside you to avoid getting any of the blood that coated you onto them too. A small part of you was aware the clothes Jongho had given you were not your own, most likely an extra set of Hongjoong’s, just as that same part of you was aware Jongho was requesting you sleep here tonight. If circumstances had been normal, you would have argued your way out of each, not seeing the need for either when your own were just a few tents down, but you were too exhausted to argue. And after everything that had just happened, you didn’t completely mind, not really. 

You weren’t sure exactly how you felt. Once the adrenaline had worn off, you were left with a wide variety of emotions flooding your system. Your first concern had been the daemon who had died, consumed with a guilt for not saving his life, for not acting quickly enough. But as guilty as you felt, your anxiety was quick to take over. The thought of what might have happened to you if the other daemon hadn’t come to investigate floored you. What would have happened if he hadn’t gotten Hongjoong like you asked? Would you even still be alive right now? Or would you have gotten yourself killed?

While you had often tread closely to the heat of the battles during the war, the only significant injury you had ever received was the stray arrow in the fight at Maehwa. It had been painful, there was no doubt about that, but you had soldiers nearby who were well trained and able to get you to safety and ensure you were never in any immediate danger as they helped to ensure you could heal yourself. But tonight, tonight you had placed yourself in a situation where you had been completely helpless. If it wasn’t for the nearby daemon whose curiosity had gotten the better of him or the surprise the daemon felt at your presence once he had stabbed you, you didn’t doubt you would be in a very different situation than you were now. If you were even still alive. 

It was the same thought that was in everyone’s mind tonight, but unlike yourself, they each had pinned the blame on themselves; racked with the guilt of seeing you injured under their care. You could feel hints of their remorse flowing through to yourself, making it difficult to differentiate between your own and serving to make you feel worse overall. The only person who was at fault tonight was yourself. You had been the one who had gone out on your own, yearning for some peace and quiet away from them. And you were the one who had gone after the daemon instead of running and getting help for the both of you. Why they would blame themselves for your injury, you didn’t understand, and you wished they would see the only one at fault was yourself. 

“Jongho.” 

You reached out for his wrist, pulling him to a stop before he could leave you. You weren’t sure exactly what it was that you wanted to say, or why exactly you had stopped him, consumed with a yearning to stop the guilt that played in his own mind. But anything that you might have thought of fell away when you caught his gaze, taken back by the raw emotion displayed there; the tenderness in his features making your heart leap. The sudden yearning to cross the distance between the two of you and envelop yourself in his arms struck you quickly, and before you could process the thought completely or how the action might have been met by him, you were giving in and doing just that. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You weren’t sure exactly what you were apologizing for as your arms wrapped themselves around his chest, quickly burying your face into his neck and relishing the warmth his body brought. You could feel him initially tense as you tugged yourself into him, but just as you were about to pull back out of embarrassment, he responded and swiftly wrapped you up in his own embrace.  

“For what?” There was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke, clearly taken back by the sudden show of vulnerability you had given. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you’re standing there blaming yourself over something I did.” Your fingers grasped at his shirt, attempting to somehow pull yourself in closer. Your chest thrummed at the close contact; his touch helping to fill the hollowness that had plagued you since the bond had been put into place. “I should have acted faster. I should have gotten a hold of one of you first. I’m not a fighter, I know that, and yet, I can’t seem to stop myself when someone’s in danger no matter how many times I get myself hurt.”

You didn’t regret your actions, not truly, but as the panic faded and your mind cleared, you quickly began to see everything you had done wrong. You had lost precious time in your indecision, time that could have been much better spent getting someone who knew what to do in the given situation. While you knew you would never forgive yourself if you just left the guard to die, you had long come to see how foolish your actions had been. You could have very well gotten yourself killed alongside him and then how many more would have died without your warning?

Soomin often got onto you for your tendency to head into dangerous situations, completely forgoing your own personal safety for the sake of others. A part of you was aware her worries were warranted; she was looking out for you and only wanted to make sure you always got back home in one piece. But it was difficult for you to put your life above those around you. You understood where she and Hyunwoo came from, knowing you would do anything and everything to keep them safe if your roles were reversed,  but it was hard to put the same priority on yourself. You had never done well when someone died under your care, unable to live with the knowledge you might have been able to do something for them. 

And tonight you had once again put your life on the line and very nearly gotten yourself killed. When Soomin heard about what happened, you’d never hear the end of it, and quite possibly neither would any of the eight men who had promised to protect you. Though they might not blame you for what happened, you knew Soomin would waste no time telling you how unbelievably stupid you had been. 

But it wasn’t only your actions and regrets that had taken your mind captive for the night, and the more you went over everything in your head, the less it all made sense. Why had the attackers only shot the one arrow? Why had you not been shot at when you had finally found the strength to act? And what had happened to the guard under your care? He had died, you were certain of it, and yet, he had moved and spoke with an ease that should have been impossible. And even if it hadn’t been, even if he had somehow miraculously healed himself, what had he been going on about? You hadn’t made out much in your injured status, much more preoccupied with the dagger sticking in you, and yet, what little you had heard had only served to confuse you further. He had seemed completely surprised by your appearance, and though you had likely never spoken to him before, he should have been familiar enough with who you were and what you could do. He should have known you were there to help him and he should have known you were perfectly safe inside the camp. 

“And we should have never dropped our guard around you. We should have been more diligent with your protection.” Jongho’s grip loosened, pulling you back just far enough so he could look you in your face. “We promised that nothing would happen to you under our care and we failed.” His hands left your waist, moving upwards to cup your face and ensure your gaze was directly on him. 

“And I told you that you can’t always fight my battles for me, nor do I expect that of you.” You shook your head. “I understand you want to protect me, but as much as you may wish it to be otherwise, you won’t always be able to be there, and blaming yourself each time it happens will only serve to make me feel worse.” You lifted your hand to meet his, covering it with your own. “Despite what you may think, I don’t blame any of you for what happened tonight and I won’t hold you accountable for the consequences of my own actions. My life, my blood, is in my own hands and no one else’s.”

To your surprise, the hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Has anyone ever told you how annoyingly stubborn you are before, angel?”

“It may have been mentioned a few times before, but,” you huffed, unable to keep your own smile from peaking through, remembering how Yeosang had told you something similar a few weeks ago, “that’s besides the point. I want you to stop blaming yourself for what happened tonight.”

“Only if you agree to do the same.” He retorted back, causing you to narrow your gaze. 

Now who was being stubborn?

You didn’t try to hide your thoughts. If anything, you wanted him to hear it, and seeing the way his shoulders lightened at your teasing remark and the smile it tugged on his lips lifted a small weight off your own chest. 

Now that the tension in the room was beginning to dissipate, you were becoming aware of just how close the two of you were and found it not quite as easy to hold his gaze any longer. Your eyes shifted to the side, hoping the hands Jongho held to your face covered the blush working its way up the back of your neck. But one quick glance back in Jongho’s direction showed you weren’t the only one growing flustered by the events. 

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t keep a frown from peeking through as you did your best to gently step away from him, taking in the blood that now stained his own clothes. He let you go with little resistance, scratching at the back of his head. “I wasn’t thinking.”

He followed the direction of your gaze to his shirt, understanding just what you were apologizing for once he saw the stains for himself. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” He waved your concern away. “This happens quite often.”

“Right.” You nodded, shuffling awkwardly. You recalled Wooyoung’s words from the first night in their camp, how he had mentioned Jongho’s tenacity on the battlefield. He had been right though, you never would have expected that out of the daemon standing before you, seemingly just as flustered by your previous exchange as you were. “Um, well, I should probably wash off.”

“Right.” Jongho repeated your earlier sentiment. “I’ll be outside then if you need anything.” He motioned to the exit behind him, giving you one last look before turning to follow through with his words, bumping into the table behind him in the process. 

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the giggle that threatened to come through, thankful it had been Jongho with you tonight than any of the others. He was easy to be around; his personality most like your own and the least out of all of them to tease you about it later on. 

Your conversation with him had helped to alleviate your nerves, allowing you to temporarily forget your worries for just a minute, but it didn’t take them long to return once he was gone and you were left alone scrubbing the blood off your body. With the difference in color between the two it was easy to differentiate the two from each other, the flecks of white signifying the lower daemon’s rank and a stark contrast from your own. 

You quickly sank into the water drawn for you, wanting to be rid of the sight as soon as possible, but no matter how much you scrubbed, you didn’t feel clean. How was any of this fair? That you got to live through the night and not him? And for what? Why had he been killed? What had been their motive?

Hongjoong had said it was most likely nothing more than the scattered remains of some human battalion, but you had a hard time believing him. If they weren’t happy with losing the war, then why hadn’t you seen or heard anyone while you were out? Why hadn’t the snuck into the camp and continued their killing spree? Why hadn’t they attacked you when you had attempted to get him to safety? And how had they gotten their hands on bloodsbane, a poison humans were incapable of brewing themselves, and one complicated enough that only a few people knew how to brew other than yourself.

Nothing about the attack gave any sort of evidence towards them being human, but them being other daemons didn’t make much sense either. If it had been daemons upset with the way the war had ended, and upset with your presence here with them, then why hadn’t he tried to finish you off quickly in the end? Why had he seemed to show you mercy and not just kill you when he had the chance?

Your fingers brushed against the skin where the dagger had sunk into. There was no physical sign that you had been stabbed recently, the area unblemished and smooth beneath your fingertips. What would have happened to you if your blood hadn’t had its healing properties? Not just tonight, but yourself in general? What would have become of you if you hadn’t been able to heal yourself and others from the brink of death with just a few drops?

You had never seen your ability as a curse. How could you when it had saved you and so many others? But you would have been lying if you had said you had never wished to exchange it for something else. At the time, you would have traded it and your ability to brew potions away if it meant you could be human. If it meant you could have an easier life and fit in, you would have eagerly given it all away, but now, now you weren’t so sure. You didn’t think you yearned to be human anymore, but you didn’t want to be fully daemon either, nor did you want to continue being stuck in the middle. You just wanted to fit in, to not be judged and controlled by those around you. You just wanted to be yourself, but exactly what or who that was, you didn’t know anymore.

You didn’t stray in the water for long, climbing out and tugging on the clothes Jongho had grabbed for you earlier. If you weren’t certain they were Hongjoong’s before, you were now. They smelled distinctly of him and you couldn’t resist the urge to pull the collar up to your face and breathe his scent in. Your senses weren’t as strong as a daemon, but you were familiar enough with his to detect the subtle hints of it in them and the tent around you. It left a wave of warmth flooding through you, easing the stress the night had brought and making you wonder why you resisted the bond you had with each of them so much. 

Perhaps if things had been different. Perhaps if you hadn’t been their mate and you hadn’t been forced into all of this with very little choice. Perhaps if they hadn’t been daemons, if they hadn’t been the king and his generals and you not a half-daemon. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been so afraid of what the future held and afraid of getting hurt. It was safer for you to keep your distance and safer if you continued to refuse their advances, because the moment you let your guard down, the moment you finally gave in, you would only have opened yourself to get hurt. It had happened before and it would happen again. You had long learned those above you only treated you kindly because they wanted something from you, and the moment that use was gone, so were they. 

Which is why you hated the bond that tied you to each of them, hated the way it filled you with emotions and yearnings so against your natural inclination. You wanted to keep your distance, wanted to keep yourself safe, but fighting it was so damn hard. It warped your emotions, making it difficult to differentiate between what was real and what was fake, because those emotions and thoughts were fake, right? Created by whatever magic they had used to effectively tie you to them. Despite how real they might have felt, they were manufactured. They had to be. And yet, you couldn’t stop the deep yearning in the pit of your stomach to walk back outside the tent and bury yourself back into Jongho’s arms. 

You forced the thoughts away before you got yourself obsessing over how exactly each of them felt about you once again, the very thing you had gone out into the night to avoid earlier. The realization would have made you laugh if it didn’t depress you so much, fully realizing now that staying in bed would have been the wiser thing to do. But, you hadn’t, and one look at the bed in the corner was all it took to let you know sleep wouldn’t be coming for you anytime soon. Your brain was still much too active to sleep.

You didn’t want to be alone either, though, and despite the awkwardness you felt over your last interaction with Jongho, you couldn’t fight the part of you that craved to be near him once again. And though you didn’t want to give in so easily, you wasted little time thinking it over and heading outside. The daemon had kept his word, and you found him settled on the ground next to the entrance when you stepped outside. He fiddled with a dagger, flipping it in between his fingers, but his movements stilled when he heard your soft approach. 

 “Is something wrong?” Jongho asked as you settled on the ground next to him, just far enough to avoid brushing up against him.

“No,” you shook your head, “I just don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon.” You brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and shivering slightly from the night air. The daemon’s clothes were made of a lighter fabric of your own, coming from the warmer climates of the south, but winter was fast approaching. “And laying in bed with only thoughts to occupy myself will only serve to drive me crazy.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You did your best to avoid his gaze, still slightly embarrassed by your interaction with him earlier. What did he think of it? “I just don’t really want to be alone right now.” 

It was strange enough having someone who cared that wasn’t family, but even stranger knowing just who was sitting beside you. After all the rumors you had heard about him and the others, you never expected the man sitting beside you, let alone that he would be your supposed mate; someone bound to you by the ancient magic of the daemons. It left you wondering just who the real Jongho was: the bloodthirsty daemon on the battlefield or the shy, blushing boy next to you now.

It left you wondering just who exactly the others were as well. There was no denying the darkness inside each of them, but was that their true nature or one built by the cruelty they had been shown themselves? You remembered the first night you had with Hongjoong. The man had oozed the aura and feel of the daemon king he was. His very nature and actions fitting the man you had heard of. He had gleefully killed Hayoon without a second thought, and yet, there was the Hongjoong you had seen in private. The Hongjoong who had very nearly broken down when he had explained how your parents had died, and the Hongjoong who had clung to you as though his very life had depended upon it.

“Jongho, what was your childhood like?” The question was out before you could stop it, curious for a peek of the boy he had been then. “Before you discovered you were a part of the Black Guard, that is.”

“Oh, well, it wasn’t much different from what it is now.” If Jongho took offense to your prying question, he didn’t show it. Instead, he crushed the dagger he had been fiddling with - reminding you of the other question prodding at the back of your mind - to free up his arms and lean his weight back against them. “My father has been training the king’s soldiers for almost two centuries now, so I grew up in the royal court and was familiar with the royal family before I became a member of Hongjoong’s guard. In fact, I was quite close to both him and Seonghwa before my horns turned black.”

“The two of you grew up in court?” You asked, just now realizing how little you knew about all of them. Besides the little bit of backstory Yeosang had revealed to you before, and the bits you had put together by comments here and there, you didn’t really know anything about any of them. 

Jongho nodded. “It was far less glamorous than you might imagine, especially for Seonghwa. His mother was a handmaid for Hongjoong’s mother, the current queen at the time, but their are never many children in the city, so we often spent time together despite the queen’s distaste for it.” 

“She didn’t approve?”

“No, despite being far from noble blood herself, she never approved of Hongjoong associating himself with anyone she thought was too far beneath him,” Jongho replied, causing your stomach to twist. You hadn’t given Hongjoong’s mother much thought before now. In fact, you hadn’t even been aware if she was alive or not, but you couldn’t help but selfishly begin to wish she was dead. If she didn’t approve of Seonghwa before he was chosen for the Black Guard, what would she think of you? Someone who wasn’t even fully daemon? “She didn’t mind me quite as much; my father had earned my family’s name respect, but she did often try to keep Hongjoong away from the both of us, saying he needn’t concern himself with those outside his guard, so you can imagine her shock when our horns both turned black, especially Seonghwa’s.” 

“She sounds lovely.” You couldn’t keep the sarcasm from coming through, tightening your grip on your legs. You had known all along the issues your presence would bring when you arrived in Taeyang, but Hongjoong’s mother had not been a source of anxiety for you until now.

Jongho chuckled, oblivious to how much his words had affected you. “That would be one way to describe her. She was never nearly as bad as his father was, but she was his mate…” His smile faded away and you knew exactly where his thoughts had traveled based on the way his entire demeanor fell. You had learned exactly what sort of man Hongjoong’s father was.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through when you were younger.” Your head fell to his shoulder, hoping to be able to comfort him in some way and feeling guilty for bringing the past memories back up. Physical touch made the bond thrum for yourself, so you hoped it would do the same for him now, conveying the empathy you felt for him. Based upon the way his body relaxed and leaned further into your touch, you figured you were right. “I wish I could have been there for you sooner.” 

“How have you done it, angel?”

“Hmm?” You tilted your head towards his face, not quite understanding what he had meant.

“This world has not treated you kindly, and yet, you haven’t let it destroy you. You haven’t let it corrupt you. Despite everything you’ve gone through, you treat everyone with a kindness they do not deserve.” 

“I guess when you’re born into a world that hates you, you learn very quickly you can either let it get the best of you or simply make the best of it.” You shrugged, settling further into his side. A part of you was conscious of the vulnerability you were showing him, warning you to pull back before you got yourself into a situation where you ended up hurt, but after everything that had just happened, you were too exhausted to care. It felt nice. He felt nice. “And with my ability to heal, it just feels natural to want to help those around me. No matter who they are or what they’ve done.”

“That doesn’t mean you should live with the weight of the world upon your shoulders. That doesn’t mean you should blame yourself every time someone dies around you.” His reply made you stop. “You didn’t kill the guard tonight nor have you ever killed anyone else that may have died under your watch. Your hands are clean.” 

“You’re wrong.” Your grip tightened itself on your legs, unable to stop the pit growing in your stomach. “Am I not at least partially to blame if I had the ability to save them and chose not to? Would you not hold some resentment towards me if I had decided to not save Seonghwa? Would you not have held some of the blame on me?”

He was silent for a moment and you didn’t dare look him in the face, terrified of the guilt you would find there. You already knew the answer to your question, fully realizing he had every right to think that way. That it was perfectly reasonable for him to put the blame on you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to. That didn’t mean it made you feel any better. You didn’t want to be right.

“Do you blame Hongjoong for your parents’ deaths?”

Your lips twisted, unsure how exactly his reply made you feel. No, you didn’t blame him for what had happened. Perhaps a part of you had for a minute, seeking some sort of vengeance for what had happened, but you knew it wasn’t his fault and you couldn’t, wouldn’t put the blame on him when you knew it was his father’s fault and not his own. 

“Perhaps a part of me would have been upset if you hadn’t chosen to save him, but it would be wrong to pin the blame on you. You shouldn’t live your life on the expectations of others. The choice should ultimately be yours.” 

You knew his statement was meant to be supporting, but it fell flat, causing you to pull away from him. “Well, no one has ever seemed to care what I want in life before. That has always seemed to already be decided for me.” 

“Angel, I didn’t mean… shit.” Jongho pulled back as well, running a hand through his hair as a string of curses rolled out. “I’m sorry.”

“I know and I’m trying, it’s just…” You were trying not to be resentful, trying to understand things from their point of view. They were trying to make up for the past, right? You could see it in their actions, but that didn’t mean the past didn’t still hurt. It didn’t take the sting away from his words. It didn’t make him feel any less of a hypocrite.

Your chin settled in between your knees, the current conversation reminding you of the one the two of you had had the night everything had changed. But as frustrated as you were with everything that had been said and done, you couldn’t shake your own guilt from that night. While Jongho’s own words had stung and his actions hurtful, you now realized the weight your own words had on him that night when you had mentioned he had no idea what it was like to not have a choice. At the time, you had thought it to be true, frustrated by how he and the others had been dictating your every move, but that wasn’t true. Not exactly. Not after what you had learned about his past.

“I’m sorry as well.” Your grip tightened against your legs once more, but your head fell back to its former place on his shoulder. “That night Hongjoong killed Hayoon, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. You know exactly what it’s like to not be given a choice and I apologize for implying you didn’t.”

“Angel, you have nothing to apologize for.” Jongho leaned into your touch, head falling on top of your own. “You had every reason to be upset that night and it should be me apologizing for it.” 

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still wish to…”

A yawn escaped your lips, mumbling your words. The exhaustion that had built up inside you the past few days was finally taking a hold of you as the adrenaline of the events left your body. Jongho’s gentle presence next to you only further helping you to relax and while you knew it was probably for the best if you took the time to try and sleep, you didn’t want to leave his side.

“If you’re tired, you should go sleep.” But the way his arm had snuck around your back to help support your body told you he was of a similar mindset as you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded your head, but it was easier said than done unfolding yourself from his side. Jongho didn’t attempt to push you any further, letting you stay next to him as long as you wanted, but the moment you did pick yourself up and disappeared back inside the tent, you felt your anxiety crawling back once you were alone again. You couldn’t keep a frown from appearing as you stood in the middle of the tent, hating how being separated from them made you feel. You had spent your whole life by yourself, fully able to deal with your anxieties and problems on your own, but now that they had entered it, you struggled. Even with Jongho just a few feet away, and the rest not too much farther, your chest ached, wanting nothing more than to curl back up with Jongho, craving the relief his presence brought.

There was some relief in knowing it was Hongjoong’s tent you were in, and though you had some hesitation sleeping here for the night, curling up in his bed helped to ease your mind a little. You buried yourself beneath the covers, once again breathing in his scent that surrounded you, and for a very brief moment, you wondered what it would be like if he was here with you. A thought that sent you quickly hiding your face under the covers despite fully knowing no one could see you at the moment. But as embarrassed as the thought made you, you couldn’t help but wonder for the briefest of moments what would happen if you did call out to him. Would he come?

It reminded you of your earlier interaction with Wooyoung, a moment that had happened less than a day ago and yet felt so far away after everything that had happened. Despite the uncomfortable spot on top of the horse, you hadn’t slept that well in ages, at ease in his arms. And after everything that had happened, you found yourself craving a moment similar to that once more than you ever cared to admit. 

The realization left you groaning, rolling over and burying your head once more as you did your best to kick it and any other similar thought from your mind. But as aggravated as you were with the thoughts, it was a blessed distraction from the rest of your other worries, and though it took a minute, your exhaustion slowly began to get the better of you and you finally drifted off to sleep.

~~~

taglists are now in reblogs :)

[jojoannaaaa]

soldier, poet, king — masterlist.

✗synopsis : imprisoned for a crime you did not commit you are hidden in a cage from the world. vowing to end the queen who dealt your life sentence, you bide your time in the dark waiting to strike. however, your early promised freedom comes on a whisper in the dark, taking the form of dark eyes, and grey wind swept hair carrying the scent of the sea.

this freedom does not come free. your choice? help the the rugged band of pirate thieves who call the infamous nine-tails home in finding the artefact of the ancient mycenian king, and anything you could ever dream of will be in your reach. Including the sea tossed pirate who saved your life.

pairing | osamu miya x reader

genre | pirate au, royalty reader, mutual pining, fluff + a pinch of angst

tags &warnings | 20+ / aged up characters, mature themes, future chapters may contain MATURE and EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+)

status | ongoing

updates | every friday

taglist | OPEN - shoot me an ask if you want to be added

legend: 🔞- contains nsfw content

✗ 0. the prelude

✗ i. long live the king

✗ ii. thus always to tyrants

✗ iii. wicked games

✗ iv. dead men walking

✗ v. run child run

✗ vi. sons of the sea

…

e x t r a  c o n t e n t

✗ world map

✗ playlist

✗ other platforms : ao3 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[jojoannaaaa]

— clair de rose (m) (6)

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count; 44.3k

genre; vampire!pirates! au, fantasy

summary; escaping your master's home, you stumble upon a ship that houses the fiercest brigand crew around. unbeknownst to you, the captain of the ship has had his eyes on you for a while.

note: this fic deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read.

— prequel to clair de lune, also part six of clair de lune (can be read as a standalone fic) warnings under cut

part five | part seven

content: angst, descriptions of violence, blood, knives, guns, pirate-centred, anxiety, panic attacks, graphic description/s of stabbing/fighting, explicit language, suicide mentions, scars, past emotional/physical abuse mentions, manipulation, lying, character death/s (MCD), if you squint there's fluff, smut

Hundreds of years prior

You grip the lining of your dress, heels clicking against the wooden stairs as you make your way up to the ship. The air is colder compared to just moments ago, illumination peeking just over the treeline. As soon as you step to the top, a man shifts, stepping just in front of you. His wear is worn compared to yours, chequered patterns, loose-fitting trousers held up with a thick black belt. His scarf wrapped around his check, wrists decorated with leathers of many sorts. He’s a pirate if you’ve ever seen one. You hold in your breath, handing him a cotton sheet. He glances down, taking it from your fingers.

“You are to board the first ship offland,” he reads, eyes flicking over the words. It's the best writing you could attempt at short notice. You look back, the quick steps of the royal guards moving closer to where you now stand. Just moments away from catching you. “And it must be ours?”

“Yes sir,” you grip his wrist. “It is of utmost importance that I enter your ship at this very moment.”

“Well, miss,” he looks down at your wear. A dress covers your figure, corset tight around your waist. Mud covers your once golden heels, The rips showing your ankles is scandalous enough, especially from someone of your class. He holds the paper tightly. “I must say we weren't aware of someone like yourself coming, and we do not take aboard estranged wealthy folk that have run away. My apologies.” He bows slightly. The crew is completely off the dock now, only he stands there. “We cannot be involved in your wrongdoings.”

“I do not have another choice at this time, sir,” your words are desperate now. “I will leave once you arrive at the next dock.”

“That is months away–"

“Please, sir,” you beg. He licks his lips, eyes on his ship then moving behind you. They widen slightly, a sigh escaping his mouth.

“Enter.” He moves to the side. You stumble up the ramp, his body close behind as he pulls the last ropes off the pillars. Before the guards get the chance to ask about you, he’s already grunting, pulling up the hatch. It hits the ship with a loud boom, arm outstretched to lock it completely. He sighs, rubbing his sullied hands against his top. His eyes move to yours, another sigh escaping him.

“What is your name?”

“Rose,” you say. He moves around you, throwing his shoulder against a barrel to shift it closer to the opposing wall. “My name is Rose, sir.”

You cannot see how his expression shifts.

His lip quirks. “Rose. How delightful. Well, I am Yunho. Master gunner, but majority of the time just another mate. I have–” he lifts a pallet with ease, thrusting it against boxes “– No authority when it comes to new members of our crew. And because you are a woman, though there’s nothing wrong with that,” he adds. “You’re a risk. I trust the main crew, but I do not trust the hires that often desert once we arrive at the next dock. You are now a problem.”

“I will remain in the quarters you choose for me,” you say, stumbling when you feel the boat shift. He reaches out, helping you steady yourself. “And I will not interfere in anything nor anywhere I am not needed, sir. You can throw me in a cell if necessary.”

His head tilts, brows furrowing. “Though I appreciate the assurance, I will not hide you. You are to meet our captain, Miss Rose.” He gestures to the ladder just in front of the two of you. “The orlop does not have much ventilation, and it would displease me if you were to perish before you arrive at your next destination.”

You move to the ladder, glancing back at Yunho. He covers his eyes, turning around. “I would never let my eyes stray. In fact,” he moves around you, taking steps up the ladder with ease. “It would be alarming to the others seeing a beautiful Rose leaving the bottom of our ship. It’d lessen their shock if they see me first. Please,” he peeks down through the hole, a smile on his lips. “With haste miss, there’s much to do before we enter the neverending sea.”

With great hesitance your fingers curl around the wooden bars, lifting yourself up step by step. A bit frustrated with your heels, you kick them off. Yunho watches as they disappear into the darkness. His laugh is filled with astonishment as he helps you up the rest of the way, a hand resting politely on your waist as he helps you steady yourself. Without another word, he digs in his pockets, large cloths appearing. He bends down, gesturing for you to step into it.

“Ah, that isn’t necessary,” you insist, shaking your head. “I would not dare dirty something you own, sir.”

“You are on this ship as a guest, even if momentarily. I cannot have you walking barefoot, miss,” he insists, “It would be ungentlemanly of me to even consider doing the opposite. And please, just call me Yunho.”

“Gentlemanly,” you whisper, watching as he slowly wraps it around you. He’s careful not to touch your skin. “I have not come across that many pirates who are gentlemen.”

He chuckles, “Pirates. Are they not illegal? Why would you consider us anything like that?”

“Despite your politeness, sir,” You follow his body as he stands, his height making your neck bend back slightly. “I recognize Captain Hongjoong’s flag anywhere. I will not ever enter a ship without knowing a bit about it. That would be foolish, no?”

“Your act of entering was foolish enough,” he gestures in front of him, letting the two of you walk slowly. You assume you’re moving to the stern to greet his captain. “What would you have done if I denied you?”

You dig into your pocket, silver shining in the low light. “I would have entered either way, sir.”

“Ah, showing a weapon to a stranger,” he shakes his head. “You have just threatened me and yet here I am, bringing you to my captain.”

“Who is the ill-advised one now?” You quip. Another laugh erupts from his chest, disappearing just as it begins. “Oh?” You raise a brow.

“We have unwelcome company,” he says just as another man appears. His height matches Yunho’s, perhaps a slight shorter than he. His trousers are covered in gunpowder and other odd substances, sweat dripping down his skin as he holds a leather bag in his hands. His eyes stay on you, flustered.

“You are a woman,” his voice matches his looks. Handsome.

“I have been my whole life,” you state simply. His lips lift into a smile, gaze moving to the man beside you.

“Does Capt’ know?”

“He would if you weren’t standing in our way, Mingi,” Yunho points out, gesturing for him to move. “Make sure none of your filth touches Miss Rose. And please enter the shower rooms, you smell like the bottom of the blue. Mind your tongue once you leave us,” His nose wrinkles.

You’re sure you would see red cover his cheeks if it weren’t for the dirt. He bows quickly, eyes meeting yours as he does so. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rose. Even if ever so briefly, I will remember it for the rest of my days.” He immediately steps around the two of you, his stomps fading. You look back at him for a moment, before following Yunho once more.

“He is quite the charmer.”

“He is a buffoon,” Yunho rolls his eyes. “But he is a dear friend of mine. You’re often left a bit disorientated when you have a full conversation with him, but he is one of few men who I trust with my life. And he is one of our gunners, as well as other maintenance tasks. But nevertheless,” he waves himself off. “I’ve been pulled from the task at hand. By now I am sure Captain has been told of your presence. There is no such thing as a secret on this ship. Especially when Mingi spots something interesting. Or someone, I should say."

The two of you make it to the stern. Two knocks to the door and Yunho enters, leaving space for you to stand next to him. CAPTAIN is embossed into a metal bracket hanging on the wood, tapping against it when Yunho shuts it just behind him. The man sitting at the desk is engrossed in his writing, so you take a brief moment to examine the room around you.

Paintings line the walls, bolted surely for the unsteadiness that is being on a large ship like this. Some frames are too far from your sight to examine, drawings of people. You expect the captain's office to be lined with treasure, instead it is filled with memories. It's clean nonetheless, the smell of liquor evident. Your eyes flick to the shelf behind him. Yunho clears his throat, the captain placing his feather into his holder, folding his paper and tossing it into a top drawer. He stands, boots clicking against the floor. Yunho is relaxed as he makes his way over to you.

You hold the knife in your pocket close. Though Captain Hongjoong appears calm, you've heard the rumors. He is not one of the most feared captains on the sea without reason. He's much younger than you presumed, though. Height is rather lacking in a sense. But where he hasn't in height he holds in pure power and confidence, back straight and eyes peering into yours. His hair is slick back, cut rather short in comparison to everyone else. And it is blond, jewelry lining his ears and body. The rings in particular catch your eye, golden against his skin.

“One of the higher classes on our ship?” He glances over your outfit, eyes lingering on the torn fabric grazing your ankles. “A runaway from her duties?”

“Their whims are no duties of mine,” you retort. “And all of you are presuming that I am of higher status when I have not even uttered a word about it.”

“Clothing is quite telling, Rose.” It’s odd the way he says your name. Politeness dripped from everyone’s voices when they spoke to you, but this Captain. He addresses you as if you’re equal. Though strange it is a bit comforting being treated the same. “Then what are you?”

“I am only here to travel to the next port, and that is all. Inquiring more about me is not necessary.”

“No?” His brow raises. “Then what am I to do if the royal guard stops us in the middle of the sea? Proclaim that I haven’t the slightest inkling of your origin? Do you think that would bode over well?” He leans forward, eyes flicking to your hand tucked in your pocket. “That is not wise, Rose. A silver knife will do nothing if I truly want to hurt you.” He holds out his hand, taking a step back.

You look to Yunho but he only shrugs, chewing on a small stick. Your gaze moves back to the captain as he waits patiently, hand still outstretched. You remove the knife from your pocket and into Hongjoong’s hand. He nods, placing it on his desk.

“Now, tell me where you’re from.”

“The dock you just departed.”

“And your position in society?”

“A handmaiden.”

He nods slowly, “That would explain your wear. But you are usually at the whim of your caretaker, what made you leave?”

“They wanted me to birth a son for the master of the house. He was not a good man. And even if he were, I would not allow a child of mine to be given to a woman who cannot even treat her daughters right. I would not allow that, even if I could birth children.”

“You are infertile?” His brows furrow. “How would you know?”

“I have had many partners in my short days, captain. I am not unknowing when it comes to the act of pleasure,” you explain simply. “But that is diverging from the point. I soon found out after that the master knew of my family’s origin. He told me that a crew of pirates killed my family, that is why I was orphaned at such a young age. I was of higher class once and I was sold to them. I am not merely here to just escape their clutches. I am here to find out where I am from, and who murdered my family.”

“And you believe that you would find it out on this ship?”

No. It would be silly of you to try in the middle of the ocean. This was just your getaway, nothing else was planned. “I just needed to leave.”

Though you explain nothing more, the captain nods slowly. “Alright. You can stay as long as need be,” he holds out his hand. You slowly take it, watching as he lifts it to his lips, soft against your skin. “I am Kim Hongjoong, Captain of the Hiraeth. It is a pleasure to see a true Rose in person. We have much to discuss.”

-

Yunho guided you out of his office soon after that, the captain explaining that he has other matters to attend to and will speak with you later. Just as Yunho shuts the door quietly behind the two of you, another voice speaks up.

“So you are Miss Rose?”

You turn, meeting the eyes of another. His presence only bears the question: how are all of these men handsome? You’ve met only a few of the crew so you doubt that it would spread across the whole ship, but it’s very strange. Not once have you met a more handsome crew of pirates. Most rarely kept themselves as clean as you’ve seen these men. And the one standing in front of you is strikingly beautiful. Blindingly so even in the low light. He holds a lantern between his long fingers, shadows cast against his skin. A long black coat hides his frame, stitches from what you can see silver in color, a longsword resting on his side. His wear is similar to the captain’s, so you can guess immediately that he’s either the first mate, or quartermaster.

“I am,” you start, sneaking a quick look at Yunho. He adjusts himself slightly. Ah, so you were right. “And you are the Quartermaster?”

“Your presumption is correct, miss. Park Seonghwa,” he glances at Yunho. “I will escort her to her quarters. Wooyoung needs your assistance in the kitchen. More mouths to feed this time around.” Yunho bows to him, giving you a brief smile before disappearing down a nearby staircase. The Quartermaster steps to the side, gesturing for you to walk first. He’s quieter than the other two. It isn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite actually. Speaking all day has exhausted you just a bit.

“Your clothing is in disarray,” he points out. “Did you wear those cloths on your feet when you entered our ship?”

“I wore heels,” you murmur. “They were difficult to use while climbing from the orlop, so I’ve kicked them off. Yunho offered me these in exchange, though I hope there’s some way I can clean them before giving it back.”

He nods slowly, “I hope so too. Because those are Yeosang’s handkerchiefs.”

You tense up, stopping in your walk to reach down and loosen the fabrics.

“Wait, there’s no need–”

“If it was Yunho’s I would have continued wearing these until I entered my quarters. But if it is someone else’s, I would not want to offend before I have even met them in person.”

“Yeosang would not mind that you’ve worn them. He’d be angry at Yunho if he were angry at all, not at you,” Seonghwa covers your hand with his, tugging slightly at your fingers. “I assure you, Miss Rose. There’s no need to fret. I would give you my own shoes if that were the case.”

You let go hesitantly, standing back on your feet. He waits for you to adjust yourself, then you continue on your way. "Are you forgotten royalty?"

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Royalty?"

"You choose your words carefully. Your enunciation is exquisite, your posture hasn't slumped over once since I laid my eyes on you. You speak as if every question I ask you would answer, though that is not so. Even the way you are looking at me now. Your eyes have rarely if ever strayed from mine, only a moment ago to look at my wear. The Quartermasters I have met were not even half as elegant as yourself. So assuming you are royal is not much of a fallacy."

"Your observations are not far from the truth. But as likely as it may seem, no I am not royalty," he opens a door, steps leading down. You enter first, listening as he shuts it behind. "I have learned that in order for us to be respected on the seas, there needs to be a crew member who is willing to – how shall I put this – adjust, to a different crowd. My mannerisms were learned over the course of ten years. I have gotten so accustomed to it that it has become part of me now."

"Then who were you before this you?"

His smile slips. "Pardon me, Miss Rose. But I would rather you did not meet nor know the Seonghwa before the one that stands in front of you now. He was not as kind nor as elegant, as you put it."

He places his palm against the wooden door, pushing it open. The room is quaint as you much expected, though the bed seems rather large for such a small space. You step inside, Seonghwa placing a wick upon the lantern next to the door, lighting up the space. In all honesty, it’s rather big for a ship this size. As if a special guest or the Quartermaster himself, resides here. The sheets folded on a small stool nearby, a leather pouch placed just on top of it.

“It is not much for a lady like yourself,” Seonghwa starts. “And if I may enter briefly, I can show you your clothing.”

You nod and he tilts his head slightly, opening a closet nailed to the opposing wall. Inside hangs slacks and other wear. The fabrics are particularly well-ironed, neatly resting in their spots. He glances back at you, a wary smile on his lips. “This clothing is fit for a mate, not a woman. I am unsure if it will fit your figure well.”

“Are women unable to wear men’s clothes on this ship?” You raise a brow.

He seems a bit flustered at the question. Not as much as Mingi, but you can see the brief crack of his features. “I mean, they are quite loose-fitting. I apologize in advance for being unable to have clothing that would fit you comfortably, but I am sure at the next stop the Captain would not mind if we sought out a tailor.”

“There is no need for that,” you say simply, moving near him. Your fingers brush against the slacks, humming. “I will be off once we arrive at the next port. Planning special trips will be silly if I am not here for long.”

There’s a pause.

“Then that is settled,” he moves back to the doorway. It seems as if he has more left to say, gripping the metal handle of the lantern quite hard. “The other fellows of our crew would like to meet you at dinner tonight, if that is alright with you. Each time the sun sets we all gather in the hall.”

These men, all of them. Their kindness is well-placed but odd in itself. You’re merely a stranger who begged to board this ship, past mostly unknown. Any other crew would force you to stay in your quarters until the next stop, or send you overboard. But each one you’ve met so far has treated you highly, as if you are a welcomed guest. You expected to reside in a closet. Not something this extravagant. Seonghwa seems to take your silence as denial for his offering, nodding quickly.

“A mate will bring you your dinner.”

“Yes, I would like to join if it isn’t burdenful,” you say. A genuine smile graces his features, nodding quickly.

“One of us will be escorting you once it is done, Miss Rose. And thank you,” his fingers brush the bronze knob. “We did need a change around here. Men are so boring.” He closes it, not missing the grin on your lips.

You sigh, turning to the wardrobe that sits idle. Would it be improper to attend dinner with the clothing you have on now? You look down, stains covering the fabric. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. You have not asked Seonghwa where exactly the powder room is on this ship. So you quickly change your clothing into the outfits hanging in your closet. They are quite loose against your body, several sizes too large. You bind them with twine, looking at yourself in the mirror. It is enough for now, but it is fascinating to see yourself this way. You are used to the luxury of the manor. But staring at yourself now, it feels freeing. The master of the house would never recognize you in this clothing. Your fingers brush against the cotton, giving yourself a quick nod. You’ve taken a liking to it.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts. You walk over, opening the door. Expecting Yunho or Seonghwa, you’re quite surprised to see someone new. His mouth opens in shock, brows furrowed.

“They were not jesting. You are truly a woman,” His brow lifts, eyes still on yours. Black locks frame his face, freshly trimmed. His brow has a scar running through it, a strange strip of gray hairs entwined in the black. Unsurprisingly, his beauty matches the others, eyes sharp, steady. He runs his fingers through his locks as you stare, stepping to the side. “Seonghwa told me to guide you to our dining hall. I hope you do not expect anything extravagant.”

“I have no expectations, sir,” you give him a nod, exiting your room. He closes the door, holding out a lock and key to you. It’s knotted to a string and you thank him, resting it against your neck.

“My name is Choi San,” he starts, taking the steps up first. You follow close as he continues. “You can address me casually. Seonghwa told me he hasn’t spoken to you much about everyone else residing on the ship, and I am sure Yunho hasn’t either.”

“Perhaps it was to be sure that I was not to leave or learn too much? I am perplexed that they have even agreed to let me stay until the next dock. Quite strange to trust a stranger.”

San’s lips lift. “But you are not a stranger, Miss Rose.”

You very much enjoy the way he says your name.

“Our Yunho knew of you, as well as our captain. We would not just let a stray onboard. We are known for our ferocity, but we also make sure everyone that steps on this ship we know of. At least somewhat; you cannot quite learn everything about a person unless they speak of it.”

“So they know I was a handmaiden, and an orphan?” Hongjoong questioned you already knowing who you were? Was it a test?

San nods, “They knew of your past as well. In fact, we’ve often traded goods with the master of the house you resided at. Not legally, as you might know. It is odd that you appeared when you did, this morning was our last trade with the man. Captain cut ties.” San holds out his hand, helping you up the last step. You thank him as he continues. “Your former master was not living up to his side of the deal.”

“It is interesting how I never saw your captain. I often shadowed the lady of the house. I would have recognized him if I knew.” And told him off right when you stepped onto this ship.

“He saw you often, Miss Rose. How much I do not know, but it must have been enough for him to allow you to stay. We accept additional members into our crew but not the way you arrived.”

He moves down the deck, you following close behind. “Should I be wary of your mates?”

San laughs, “No. Everyone is amicable enough, some more than others. You will notice once you meet us all.”

He steps into the doorway, holding the door open for you. You duck slightly at the lowered doorway, taking a few steps down into the dining hall, distracting you from your thoughts of the captain. It’s loud and rambunctious, men around you laughing and having a swell time as they eat. Others balanced plates in their hands as they made their way to seats, jostling their friends around. If you listen closely, you could hear music flowing throughout. San guides you to a table closer to another door. You thank him, sliding onto the bench. Most of the table is full, a few of the men you recognize already. Yunho and Mingi are laughing as they eat, deep in a conversation about something a man named Yeosang did? Seonghwa sits beside them, sipping his soup quietly as he listens. The captain is next to him, his space in front of him free of plates or food. A glass of wine rests between his hands, taking slow sips as he watches everyone at the table. You avoid his gaze entirely. There’s a couple of more faces you do not remember seeing, San disappearing into the revolving door.

“I am glad you’ve decided to join us, Miss Rose,” Yunho says, a wide grin stretching his cheeks.

“It would be rude of me to reside in the room you’ve given me while everyone is eating,” you say back. “But thank you. All of you have been kind and welcoming. I found the right ship to take.” And you mean that entirely. It could be a facade but as of now there’s nothing peculiar about it. And the smiles they’ve given you seem anything but fabricated. You adjust yourself in your seat, glancing at the door. “Apologies, but I am not acquainted with your usual habits. Do I enter the kitchen for my own meal?”

Mingi shakes his head, “You are a guest. And I believe San ran in there first to grab yours.”

You’re not spared a chance to protest, the door swinging open with San holding two bowls in his hand. He grins at you, sliding next to you with ease and placing your food in front of you. You look down at the bowl before turning to him.

"Thank you," you say simply. Better not to start out with rejecting each kind thing they do for you. You'd rather that than rudeness. Your gaze moves to the pile of fruit sitting in the middle of the table, shock crossing your features. You haven't tasted fruit in years.

"Did they not treat you well?" Another man speaks up, voice deep enough to hear through the shouts and laughter. His black hair frames his face, wisps against his fair skin. A birthmark kisses his temple. It only makes his face more breathtaking to look at, even your sure confidence breaks for a moment. "You look surprised."

After noticing that a few of the men at the table are waiting for you to speak, you clear your throat. "He never allowed anyone but the main family to have fruits. It was a rarity that we were even allowed in the same room, aside from the kitchen staff. My lady often teased me whenever she ate peaches."

He hums, the sound causing your body to shiver. "How pitiful."

"Indeed," you thank San again, eating a spoonful of the stew. You take a sip, a low moan falling from your lips.

San laughs, blush decorating his cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoy it, Wooyoung would be pleased."

"It isn't wise to make such a sound in front of strangers," Seonghwa whispers, taking a sip of his wine. You can feel blood rush to your own at his suggestion, though you only roll your eyes.

"Are they truly men if they cannot handle themselves for a brief moment?"

"Not when it comes to someone of your beauty."

This time you're speechless.

The kitchen door swinging open saves you from coming up with a response. A man, balancing three bowls in his arms, exits, humming a tune. You assume this is Wooyoung from the apron wrapping around his torso. You stand, his eyes moving to follow the sudden movement. They widen in alarm, stopping. The bowls fall from his hold, spilling to the floor and splattering against your clothing. A low shit escapes his mouth, immediately dropping to his knees.

"I'm so sorry," he says quickly, handing you a towel and bowing quickly.

“If you wanted me to remove my clothing you could have asked nicely,” you quip. Wooyoung’s laugh is boisterous now, cheeks scarlet as he cleans the floor. You reach for a rag on the table, crouching down to help.

“Ah, you needn’t worry about that–"

You wave him off, dipping it into the bucket and scrubbing. “It would be discourteous of me to watch you clean when I am the one who startled you. Please."

"I thought I'd make a better first impression," he admits, the conversations around you rising in volume once they realized the situation was handled. He thanks you again, ringing out his rang in a bucket and continues to wipe. "Instead I only made myself a fool. And soiled your clothing."

"It is but a wash and it'll be all new," you reassure him. "I just never expected to startle a pirate so easily. I'm a bit proud that I was able," you smile, and he matches it with ease. From this brief interaction, you can tell you'll enjoy his company on the ship. Though his natural beauty is not lost on you, his wear is more of what you're used to. Dirty with fingers wiped while cooking, stains from months of cooking. Possibly years. He looks like a human. Your eyes rest on the scars covering his arms briefly.

"Wooyoung is scared of his own shadow," Another man who sat across from you speaks up. "It is unsurprising that he's jumped at your mere presence. I am shocked he is able to poison anyone in the first place."

"Jongho please respect your elders," Wooyoung retorts. You hide your smile as you wipe, too entertained to interrupt the conversation. "I'll have your food poisoned, it's best not to test my patience." He thanks you again as you place the towel into the sullied water, standing up quickly. His hair is similar to San’s, though it’s a deep blond beneath the black hair styled messily on top of his head. You’re quite surprised there’s so many of the pirates with these strange hair colors. You’ve only seen a few with dyed hair, and it was maidens rather than men. His bow matches yours as he disappears into the kitchen again. You move back into your seat next to San, taking another spoonful of stew.

“That was kind,” he points out, head resting against his arm. You take a quick glance, noticing his bowl completely empty. “Perhaps you will fit in well with the rest of us.”

“I am only here shortly,” you note, glancing around the table. The conversation does not seem as loud as it once was, most of the men watching as San and you speak softly. “But thank you for your kind words, Choi San.”

His cheeks flush. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head. Could it be that you said it in a flirty tone, or are these men just easily swooned by simple words? It couldn’t be the latter, oftentimes pirates are involved in quests that require them to ignore the allurement of a temptress. You’ve never considered yourself anything like that, so their interactions with you certainly boosts your ego. Your gaze moves away from him, the only one at the table you’ve haven’t gotten the name for staring back at you. There seems to be a bit of curiosity in his eyes but he does not dare speak up.

“When you are finished, can you meet me in my office?”

Captain Hongjoong speaks from the end of the table, standing up slowly. He holds the glass of wine in his head. His eyes rest on yours, until he sees a quick nod from you. The other crew members bow as he passes them, his boots echoing against the wooden floors as he disappears through the door from whence you came. The chatter continues as before, Mingi and Yunho next to you continuing their argument.

“You were the one who gave Miss Rose his cloths,” Mingi points out. A scowl forms on the man with the pretty birthmark, eyes narrowed as he meets Yunho’s.

“It was you who made my fabrics sullied? I asked of you to bring it so I could sew. Now it has to be cleaned for days on end.”

“There was little choice,” Yunho mumbles sheepishly, gaze glued to the table in front of him. “You would have done the same if she were walking bare across the main deck.”

Oh, so he is Yeosang. Mysteriously he doesn’t meet your eyes with anger, instead the same interest as before. “Perhaps I would have.”

You finish quickly after that, excusing yourself from the table. Seonghwa stands, offering to guide you to his office. Though you’re sure you can figure it out on your own you accept, thanking him. He holds the door open for you as you leave the cafeteria, their laughs and music fading the further you walk away. His hands rest against his back, long coat fluttering in the ocean’s winds. You hold your arms close to your body, the cotton you chose to wear not at all covering your skin. Seonghwa stops for a brief moment, sliding his arms from his sleeves and stepping closer to you. You tense up, until he drapes the coat over your shoulders, buttoning the first loop.

“Ah, this isn’t necessary–”

“You would fall ill if you continued to shiver the way you have been,” he says softly. “I’ve forgotten to ask for spare clothing for you, since you aren’t used to living this way. I will make sure one of our crew brings you a coat, alright?” His smile is light, eyes flicking between yours. “And though I was only teasing while we were eating, I do want to let you know that our ship is safer than many that travel the seas. But there is always a possibility that eyes will do more than just wander,” His jaw is clenched as he speaks, eyes narrowed. “I would kill anyone who ever laid a hand on a woman. I just think that you should be wary, just a bit more. We are still a ship full of law-breaking men, after all.”

He’s right. You’ve been lax for a big part of your life because there was little time for a man to ever be alone with you; your body was stuck by your lady’s side. But now that you’re no longer at the manor, things are different. You know no one. Even the man standing in front of you now, despite his words, could be dangerous.

“You’re right,” you admit, gripping his coat closer to your skin. “It is quite silly to believe anything other than that. Thank you for reminding me. Arriving somewhere new often makes you forget where exactly you are.”

“There is no need to thank me, Miss Rose,” his pink lips hold a small smile. You feel a bit embarrassed meeting his gaze. It cannot be possible for him to be that handsome, you decide. How are you to last on this ship for so long without acting on your very lewd thoughts? You curse at yourself. Learn some self control, Rose, you murmur to yourself.

The two of you stop just outside the Captain’s door. Before you open the door to enter, Seonghwa’s hand covers the knob. His eyes meet yours, a brief flash of worry. You’re not sure what to make of it and do not have the chance to either. He opens the door for you, and you thank him, hesitantly entering the captain’s quarters.

Hongjoong rests at the edge of his table, one leg holding himself up as you sit in the chair farthest from the desk. Even in a position as such he holds power, his free hand holding himself up while the other slowly stirs the red wine in his glass. He lifts it up to his lips, taking a long sip. Gaze never leaves yours. Whether it is a challenge or not you don't back down, ankles crossed as you wait for him to continue.

"You truly do not remember me?" Ah, so he knows that you're aware of him seeing you before.

You shake your head, "Were you that memorable?"

He laughs, brow quirked. "I hope to be. Not many see me walking onshore. Most islands and states want my head. The only reason I visited your former master's residence was to gaze upon you."

"Peculiar," you note aloud.

"Is that all? You consider my words peculiar?"

This time you fill the silence with your laughter. "Would it be anything else? Why would you trade with an untrustworthy man to see a woman that does not even know of your existence aside from the tales that are passed throughout the city? While I lived as a handmaiden, my focus was only to my lady. Not even a man as handsome as yourself pulled my attention away. So yes, I do find it quite peculiar that a captain of your status wasted time and coin on visiting a corrupt man just so that he can gaze upon me briefly. It is not like I would have fallen into bed with you because you've taken a liking to me."

It is only a moment when you realize that you've stunned him. His hand no longer holds the glass delicately. Instead, his fingers grip the stem, jaw tight. You look up to his eyes but there is no change. His head tilts, eyes narrowed. "Most ladies would be delighted to catch the attention of an infamous captain."

"I am not like most ladies. But I am sure you already know that, sir."

A dry laugh leaves his lips, gaze elsewhere. His tongue runs along his bottom lip, teeth briefly biting it before looking back at you. "I do know that very well, my Rose." He lifts himself off of the desk, letting his glass rest on the edge of the spot he vacated. "But now that we've truly become acquainted, you must know that the whole island we have just left is looking for you. Your master was murdered just before this ship sailed, and you've disappeared from the manor at that exact moment. You're now as wanted as we are."

What?

You tense up, standing. "It was not I–!"

"You don't have to proclaim your innocence to me, Rose. The last face he saw was mine when I tore out his heart in front of his woman. She is well aware that you have not involved yourself in his death, but what is she to say? Her husband perished at the hands of a pirate? There would be inquiries as to how he became associated with myself, and their reputation would dwindle into nothing. How convenient it was for you to leave at the perfect time. Remarkable, even."

Your jaw is tight, thoughts scattered. The lady of the house never did anything out of sorts, though she was overall a terrible person. But you were her trusted confidant. Would she really spread this news to protect the household? No matter how bitter the thought seems in your head, she would without any hesitancy. The reason you left was to find more on who killed your father. On a whim. But perhaps you did leave at the perfect time. She would have framed you for her husband’s death either way.

“I will figure this out,” you start. “I will proclaim my innocence so that they will look deeper into it.”

“And you think they are to believe a runaway handmaiden?” His brow lifts. “Even if I were to tell that I committed the crime, I am sure your lady will deny it over and over until her last breath to protect her reputation. They will arrest you right when you place one foot upon their land.”

There’s nothing you can do. Though he was a wretched man, he was powerful. They would have several islands looking for you, checking each dock a ship stops on. Eventually they will find you, and you will be hanged for a crime you did not commit. Your fingers curl into fists, anger swimming through you.

“How did I end up on the same ship as the man who was interested in me? The man who killed him?”

There’s something odd in his features as he looks at you. An impureness resting in his eyes. You haven’t the slightest hesitation that he did everything on purpose to somehow have you ending up standing directly in front of him. You’ve heard from the tales that he is a master manipulator, but seeing him act it out in person drives a bit of fear into your heart. If he could do this on a whim, what else has he done? Pirates aren’t the highest in morality so it is your fault for thinking otherwise. Each man you have met tonight is not free of sin. But something about the way he speaks of it is unlike anything you've ever heard of.

You do not show him this fear, of course. You’d never give anyone that satisfaction.

His eyes are wide, grin striking. “I get anything I want, my Rose. I’ve been waiting for you unbearably, longing to see you stand in front of myself, look at me in my eyes. If you think that I would care about your reputation to commonfolk you are sadly mistaken. As long as I have you, I do not even think of anyone else.”

“You are odd,” you say through clenched teeth. “I do not care how much you desire me. As long as I live, you will never be blessed with my desire. I hope that you ache with longing until the end of your days. You will never have me.”

“My days are quite long, Rose. Even you would eventually fall.”

You grab your bag off the seat behind you, glaring at him. “Even if it were the end of the world and we were the last two standing, I would rather die than involve myself with you.” You leave his office, ignoring the loud laughter as you make your way back to your quarters. Men you come across move out of your way. Perhaps they can feel the anger dripping from you. Either way, you’re thankful none of them stop to ask what’s wrong. Before you walk down the steps, you see Seonghwa. He meets you with sympathy though he says nothing. It is as expected.

Your irritation grows as you make your way down the steps, pulling the key off your neck and opening your door with haste. You hear the quick steps of someone behind you but ignore it, throwing your bag to the floor and removing your shoes.

“Are you alright?”

You look up, meeting the eyes of Jongho. He looks confused, brows furrowed as you clench your fist in frustration. Even if you air your grievances, it’s of no use. He is loyal to his captain and you could barely remember his name. Sharing what you think of the man who let you stay aboard would only make matters worse. So instead, you let a quick sentence slip, revealing nothing more.

“He is no doubt a fearsome captain of the seas.”

Jongho’s expression seems to be even more puzzled, but he doesn’t press you for an answer. Instead he watches as you gather up your belongings, shoving them into a bag you found in the closet. “Where will you go? We are in the middle of the sea.”

“Then no one would know of my circumstances. I can do as I please.”

“You will take one of our spare boats and leave? We are far from land, Miss Rose. There is not a doubt in my mind that you will perish in mere hours. The tides are high."

"You are the sailing master, correct?"

He nods.

"Tell the tides to calm down enough for me to live for more than a few."

His lips lift, "I hope you do know that I cannot do such a thing."

"I'm only jesting, Jongho. If only it were that easy to leave," you rest on the edge of the bed, rubbing your hands against your face. "Did all of you know who I was before boarding this ship? Or was it just San, Yunho and the captain?"

"All of the main crew knew of you, but no one knew what you looked like. And I'm sure no one knew that you'd be on board with us. I was quite shocked when I learned of your presence,” he admits, leaning against the doorframe. “The last thought on my mind was you entering the ship. After the death of the master of the house, we all assumed there was nothing else after that.”

“The captain spoke of me prior?” Your brows furrow at the thought. How involved is he with you? His words were odd in the meeting you had with him, but you presumed it was an exaggeration. A way to strike fear into your heart. Nothing true, nothing solid. “That you’re sure of?”

“Is it shocking?” He asks, brow raised. “He spoke to all of us whenever a new crew member came aboard. Sure he said that you may arrive one day, but it was just foolish of us to not take his word for it. Each of us had a brief introduction to the crew before we entered the ship. There was nothing special about it.”

Ah, perhaps you are overthinking. Another person appears just next to Jongho. San, you quickly recognize the grin on his cheeks. He pats Jongho on the shoulders, taking a quick glance around the room.

“Time to switch sailing,” he says softly. Jongho lets out a low groan but bows to you slightly, leaving the two of you alone. You snicker as he stomps up the steps, meeting the eyes of the newcomer. Seonghwa’s words ring in your head, remembering that you are in fact on a ship with complete strangers. You straighten your bag, San’s eyes flicking to your packed things.

“Are you taking a trip into the deep?” He asks, a teasing grin resting on his lips.

“If it were possible, I’d even invite you.”

He laughs, a sweet sound despite the dire situation. His smile slowly fades, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet yours. “You are safe now, Miss Rose. I know that it is a bit overwhelming to be on a ship with many men you haven’t the slightest idea about, but you’re safe. I’m glad that Seonghwa warned you–”

How does he know that?

“–but I will make sure you’re well too. I will try my best.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say softly, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. “But odd, don’t you think? Am I to trust the words of a man I met only hours ago?”

He wiggles his brows. “Soon it will be half a day.”

“San…” you drag his name, rolling your eyes.

His smile widens. “Oh, I do enjoy the way you say my name. But I will say goodnight, there’s much to do.” He bows, holding the knob of your door. His blatant disregard to your inquiry does not fly by you. You stand, meeting him in the doorway. Though they’re not the tallest men you’ve ever seen, standing this close to him forces you to lift your head slightly to meet his gaze. His gaze lingers on your eyes, flicking to your lips briefly. So quick you would not have even noticed if you weren’t so close. “See you tomorrow, my Rose.”

He shuts the door. You suck in a breath, lifting the string from your neck and locking the door behind him.

-

The long days on the ship are eventful, to say the least. Captain introduces you to the rest of the crew. You expected it so it wasn’t surprising. But the way he spoke of you only added to your curiosity. The way his eyes reflected the sea. And even for the briefest of moments, you could have sworn there was a flash of red as he spoke. The other main crew members gathered around you. San and you have gotten along well, oftentimes you sat with him while he navigated, speaking of your times on land with your lady. He told you of his past - his family abandoning him because of the birthmark in his hair. It was a silly reason, but they believed he was cursed. Hongjoong found him one day begging for coins in a far away city, and invited him to be on the crew. Many of the main crew had stories like his. In fact, you’re sure they were all abandoned one way or another.

There was one that peaked your interest though. The ship had a variety of strange fellows and groups of friends. You notice quickly that there’s various, small groups of friends. The eight stick by one another, and others are on their own. You wouldn’t have noticed him if he didn’t stare at you. Each meeting you attended, he would sit in the back with his friends. But his gaze always lingered, looking away when you tried to meet his eyes. You haven’t had the chance to catch him and speak without someone interrupting. But now that you stand at the helm, you see him carrying a sack on his shoulders, disappearing into the storage. You tell Jongho that you’d be right back, quickly following after him.

Just as you take the last step into the room, he grunts, throwing the sack into the corner. He turns around, eyes widening when he sees you standing there. There’s something about him that pushes the fear of being alone with a stranger away. Familiarity, even.

“What are you doing here?” He frowns, giving you his back as he pushes a barrel. You go to assist but he stops, expression dropping. “Captain would ring my neck if you picked anything up.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Entering a storage room with a man you don’t even know the name of isn’t wise, miss,” he says simply, scolding you. “You should be more fearful of what could happen to you–”

“What’s your name?” You interrupt. He freezes, fingers gripping the mesh. “Tell me your name.”

“Not necessary. I do recall you’re leaving the ship, yeah? No need to acquaint myself with you.”

“What is your name, sir?” You insist. He lets go of the sack, a low sigh falling from his lips. “Why aren’t you saying it?”

“Because you will hate me if I do,” he whispers, gaze flicking back to yours. His lip trembles as he looks at you. Shivers trail along your skin as the two of you stare in silence. “You will hate our father.”

You were taken away to an orphanage. You walked into your father dead on the ground, knife wounds covering his body. Running down the hallway, seeing your mother in the exact same position. Blood drained from them. The guard told you it was a pirate attack, and to run. Your young mind was too naive to question it, forced from place to place. Believing that all of your family was dead. Gone forever.

How could he be here, a brother unknown to you, standing just in front of you? A mate on a pirate ship? Your body shakes as he stands to his full height. He looks just like your father just before he died. He moves closer, hands rising to touch you, then falling. Gaze flicking between yours, breaths hitched. Words do not come to mind as you meet his eyes.

“Why did I not know of you?” you whisper, body trembling. “I thought all of the family I knew of was dead.”

A sad laugh falls from his lips, eyes moist. “Our father had an affair with my mother. I eventually found out about a lost sibling of mine, moreso from my relatives who wanted to tell me the truth. They told of a girl named Rose. When you first arrived I thought nothing of it, but as I grew to know you things changed. The story of your mother and father dying horrifically told me the truth. I am sorry that I have not gotten the chance to speak to you sooner. We never knew each other, but now that I do, I’d never leave you in this world on your own, Rose.” His words are sure, eyes resolute. You’ve known of him for merely ten minutes and he has accepted his position as your brother.

“How old are you?” You ask softly.

“Three years older than you. And my name is Jung Subin.”

Your father often left you and your mother alone for extended periods of time, explaining that it was for business. Perhaps on one of those trips, something happened. “How?” You shake your head, questions lingering in your mind. “My whole life I thought I was alone.”

“I was afraid as a small boy when I was told of your existence. I was out of my mind. It…” He rubs his face, brows furrowed. “When I came to after the loss, I was far away from home. Lost. I never traveled that distance without a carriage. An older couple found me and took me in. I cried for my mother and they finally listened after weeks of me pleading. When I arrived back home it was empty. Apparently my mother passed in that short time from a broken heart. Another family was moving into our home. Once overcoming the anger and frustration from our father, I contacted the police but your whereabouts were unknown. For over a decade I yearned to find you, but lost that hope. Seeing you standing at the side of Captain, I could not believe it.” He admits, shaking his head. “And you were too young to remember much, so I presumed that you could not recall our father speaking to you about me, if he ever did. I was just elated that you were alive. Well. You’ve grown up well, my little sister.” his lip lifts, sorrow in his gaze. “I apologize that I was too afraid and ran away. I am sorry for leaving you alone–”

You pull him into your arms and his wrap around you effortlessly, your forms molding into one another’s. Tears roll down your cheeks as you hold him, sobs racking through you. “I thought all of my family was dead. Do you think I’d care about the past? That was so long ago.”

“I left you alone,” he says through trembling breaths.

“You were a child,” you move away, meeting his eyes. “You were scared because of the death of our father, and your mother. I would never blame you for that.”

“There isn’t a need to forgive me–”

You hold his face in your hands, laughing. “I thought I was the only one in our father’s family line left in this world. The greatest gift I could be given is seeing that I have a brother, who is alive. Nothing else matters.”

His laugh is gleeful now, trembles in his body matching yours. “I am glad to see you too, sister.”

After a few minutes of this the two of you pull apart. Without hesitation you hit his arm. He groans, rubbing it.

“That’s for not telling me who you were and staring at me without saying a word. How ludicrous and odd,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “I thought you were just a strange man.”

“Ah, yes. The others told me that I should have spoken to you. I was just afraid that you’d hate me.”

“Hate is the last thought on my mind.”

“But I did not know that,” he adds. “Sejun insisted that I speak to you. I was just gathering the courage to do it, as all.”

“Sejun. A horrid name,” your lips form a scowl, remembering your former lover. The name only brings a bad taste to your mouth. You adored Sejun when you first met him, almost kissed the ground he stumbled upon. But your relationship soon turned sour when he began forcing himself into every aspect of your life. There wasn’t a day that passed where he wouldn’t curse you for what you wore, or scolded you for speaking to another man. None of the encounters were for seduction. But he insisted that they were. The only reason you got away from him, even after the relationship ended, was when your master fired him. It was the best day of your life. “You should recommend your friend to change it.”

“Why?” His brows furrow. “I thought you loved Sejun.”

“What did you say?” Confusion coats your features. It couldn’t be possible–

“He told me that the two of you were together but were forced apart–”

“Sejun? The Sejun you know is Lim Sejun?”

He slowly nods. Your fingers curl into fists as you turn on your heels, pace quickened. You hear the stomps of your brother behind you. He touches your arm but you pull from his hold, glaring at him when your gazes meet. It isn’t his fault, no, but your fury cannot help but rise. “Do not touch me, Subin.”

“What’s happening? What did he do?”

“What’s going on?” The two of you turn, facing a curious Yeosang. His arms are crossed against his chest, flicking to Subin. “Why were you alone with Rose? Have you touched her?”

Subin coughs at the suggestion. Well, it’s more like a gag as you pat his back, rolling your eyes at his exaggeration. You shake your head at Yeosang. “It is nothing like that. Would you be a darling and inform me of Sejun’s quarters?”

Yeosang only seems to sink into more confusion, “Is there something the matter?”

“Just behind the main steps,” Mingi says just behind him, a wide grin on his lips. “Are you going to kill him?”

“Pull him limb from limb,” you respond, stepping around the small group of men gathered around you. Mingi grins in pure glee, following behind you excitedly. You assume the other two are as well, small talk between them as they try to decipher what exactly is happening. The door is wide open as you take a step inside. Your eyes meet the one man you’ve hated for years. His widen, taking a slight step back as you move closer. He still looks the same, though his torso is covered in scars and other markings. More than likely it’s from this life of his now. But you pay it no mind, the allure of his nakedness long gone from your brain. Without another word, your fist meets his jaw. He stumbles back, head hitting the wall as he falls to the floor. You stand over him, your anger only rising as you stare.

“Rose?” he says.

“How dare you tell my brother we are still lovers? You are a sick man!” you screech, lifting your arm back again to hit him. Another wraps around you, pulling you away from Sejun. You yell, kicking and twisting to remove yourself from whoever’s hold it is. “Let me go!”

“I need to know what happened, Rose. You cannot just walk around injuring my men,” Seonghwa’s voice is soft in your ear. You expected someone else, or even your brother to be pulling you away. But not the Quartermaster. You stop resisting, letting him pull you from the room. Subin stays down there with Mingi and Yeosang as Seonghwa leads you up the steps.

“You can let go, I’m fine,” you insist, but he doesn’t respond. He takes you farther and farther away from Sejun’s room, at the front of the ship. His hold loosens, letting your shoes touch the wood. You take deep breaths, rubbing your hands over your face as you think through what you’ve just done. It was unladylike, it was inappropriate. But Sejun often brings those emotions out of you. You close your eyes, pushing the anger back further so that you can gather yourself. Seeing him again…

“Tell me what’s happening,” Seonghwa breaks the silence. He stands in front of your path. “Rose, I cannot solve it if it’s not discussed.”

“He…” you grip the railing, giving him your back as you stare into the endless sea. “He is one of the most undistinguished men I’ve ever met. He reeks of overachievement and bitterness. He yearned for everything he’s never been, or never will be. I swore to him that if I ever saw him again I’d kill him. It seems that I have not followed through on my promise. Though it does not matter, he just needs to bleed and I’ll be fine with it.”

“Why? What has he done, what is he to you?”

You tense up at the new voice, looking back. Captain Hongjoong stands there, a cigar between his lips as he takes a drag, leaning against the railing. Seonghwa is near him, concern in his eyes. “You cannot go around killing my men without reason. Even if you are my Rose.”

The last person other than Sejun you never want to see again stands near you. Hongjoong hasn’t bothered you after his strange introduction of your arrival on the ship. You are not naïve enough to believe that was the end of it. But at this very moment, you do not need his input.

“I am not yours,” you grip the wood tightly. “It is things like that which made me hate Sejun. We were lovers while I lived with my lady,” you say. Hongjoong’s expression does not change, but Seonghwa’s does, frowning at the new information. “I loved him at one point in my life.”

“Then he broke your heart?” Hongjoong suggests.

“Far from it,” you retort, anger dripping from your words. “I could not rid of him. Our relations were supposed to be brief. We used each other for a release, but I fell for him. It was silly of me, I was too young and in love to care. His possessiveness grew ugly. I could not spend a moment alone without him appearing. He accused me of heinous acts, even when we were no longer together. In one of our arguments–” You lift up your blouse. Both men avert their eyes, much to your surprise. “Look at what he has done to me, and you can see why I despise his mere presence.”

You appreciate their reluctance, Hongjoong’s eyes meeting your skin first. Jagged scars line the curves of your stomach. Much of it is random, some covering others. Seonghwa’s expression drops when he sees it. Utter devastation coats his eyes. Enough so that you let the fabric fall over your skin, swallowing slowly. “I considered it a mistake. He pushed me too hard, the glasses fell and my body crumbled into it. I thought I would have died that night, but he brought me to a clinic and they did what they could. There are parts where I still have no feeling. I forgave him. But then it happened again. That time he threw a broken glass in my direction.” You tilt your head up, a large scar running along the side of your neck. “I died but was brought back to life by the manor’s surgeon. I swore to him after that night that I would kill him the way he killed me if I were to ever see him again. Unfortunately the opportunity was pulled from me.”

Hongjoong turns on his heels, disappearing into the night. You watch his figure go down the steps of where you just left, a small sigh falling from your lips. Seonghwa still stands there, hands curled into fists. Though you’ve learned to tolerate the feelings thinking of it does to you, he’s never heard it before. You take a step closer to him, your smaller hand wrapping around his fists. He relaxes slightly, moist eyes meeting yours. Without another word you lift one of your hands, thumb brushing against his skin, wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m no longer harmed. It was long ago.”

“You died?” Seonghwa whispers. “He killed you?”

“Correct,” your lip tilts. “If it weren’t for my savior, I would never have met any of you. But you should not cry, Seonghwa. For I have long moved on from it. Well, enough so.” No need to lie to yourself. Anger like that does not appear from nowhere. “Weeping when I am fine now is not necessary.”

“You died, Rose,” he says. He moves his hand from yours, cupping your face. His hold is soft, barely pressing against your skin. You’ve learned from your brief time on the ship that Seonghwa’s care for you is unlike anyone else’s. It’s as if he’s known you for quite a while. As if him being this empathetic to your situation should not be surprising. “Please allow me to weep. There was a world without you for the briefest moment.” His thumb traces the scar on your neck, pain circling his gaze.

“Your words are too warm for someone you’ve known for a moment that brief.” Though you tease, your words ring true. How could he almost mourn for a death he was no witness to? To a loss he has never known?

His thumbs rub your cheeks softly, tears falling and falling. His devastated expression only makes your own water. “Perhaps it is the fear of it. You speak of it with such great nonchalance to the point that it terrifies me. A length of time knowing someone does not define how I would react if you were gone.”

“You are too kind to be a pirate,” you laugh through your own tears, shaking your head. “Though I cannot turn back time, it all has led me here. With you all, seeing my brother. Though the past that has haunted me has finally caught up, I have you all.” You let go of his face and he reluctantly lets go of yours. “I do not know how to feel, knowing that you care for me so. But I think it makes me happy. Thank you, for being kind to me,” you whisper.

“It is the easiest thing in the world, Rose. But you are welcome.”

A loud thump interrupts your moment. You turn, seeing the others slowly gathering just a few meters away from you. Sejun coughs up blood, face indistinguishable from mere moments ago. You hold your breath when your eyes meet his. His cheeks are swollen, the tanned skin of his covered in crimson. Some of the wounds are already beginning to stab over a bit as he continues to choke on his own blood. Seonghwa stands near you, eyes moving to Hongjoong’s.

“Do what you must to him,” Hongjoong says, stepping away from Sejun. You meet the eyes of your brother standing just behind him. Blood coats his own shirt, knuckles cut. Has he done this? It’s hard to point out who, many of the men you’ve come to know all covered with some sort of blood. You move closer to Sejun, anger gone from your body. You crouch, your finger lifting his chin so that he can meet your eyes.

He looks pitiful like this. When years ago you were afraid of him, afraid of ever defying his words. Believed that each word of his rang true, that he adored you, loved you. Here you are, covered in the scars he created, staring at a man that looks as defeated as you once felt. Words are lost as you look at him. The confidence that you’ve grown while in his absence dwindles when you meet his eyes. How, after all these years, do you still tremble in fear underneath his gaze? It is not fair.

You push back the feelings, letting your hand drop from his chin. "Do you not have remorse?"

"Rose–"

"You speak to my brother and tell him that we left each other's side because of some twisted fate. How dare you lie on my name so blatantly? We were never one, Sejun. My love for you was molded from fear and inexperience. I never truly loved you. And seeing you like this only makes me feel sorry for you."

Perhaps it is in the moment that he does not give the usual scowl of his surrounded by the others. You half expected it knowing how he once was. And now you know, still is. Tall tales to a brother you have never heard of. Your gaze moves to said brother, Subin's fists clenched as he looks down at the man he considered a friend. You would have never expected something like this. But perhaps life is just filled with disappointments.

You stand, the anger receding just as quick as it appeared. Seonghwa places his hand lightly on yours, and you meet his eyes. Though he says nothing, there seems to be an apology within them. It's none his fault, not even Hongjoong's. But you only nod, afraid that if you speak a word to him you'll fall apart. Hongjoong glances at you, before gripping the color of Sejun’s shirt, dragging him against the wood and to the edge of the ship's railing. Though Hongjoong seems to be a sturdy man, you're a bit perplexed on how he could move him with such ease. Wooyoung runs after him.

The rest follow, San and surprisingly Yeosang staying by your side. You turn away from the gathering, afraid of what they may do to Sejun. Yeosang meets your eyes, a light smile on his lips. You see blood stains on his blouse but he does not bring attention to it, holding out his hand. The way yours trembles as it slowly cups his forces back your tears. You let him guide you through the ship, passing by your own room in favor of his. San does not follow and you're not quite sure why, Yeosang keeping his door ajar as he walks you inside. Whether if it's for comfort on your part you're ever thankful. He's spoken to you a few times, but not enough or as close as San has.

You sink your face into your hands, thoughts scattered. Sejun is your brother's friend. Sejun might die on this ship tonight because you could not control your emotions. You might have killed someone. Your fingers dig into your hair. A thought crosses your mind to pull it from its roots. But you can still feel the warm presence of Yeosang, his quietness calming in the chaos.

"I've ruined a life," you say softly.

"If we knew of his deeds his life would have been ruined anyway."

"How could you trust my words with such ease? I could have been lying to get a man I hated off the ship. Why are you believing me?"

"Are you asking us not to?" His brow quirks, head tilted. "You are part of our crew, Rose. We take your words with heavy consideration just like any others. Sejun harassed you, sullied your name. If we were to allow that, we would not be a wise crew."

"Even if I am a woman."

"Your womanhood does not matter. You could have proclaimed the same as a man and he would still be dealt with as he is now. We saw your eyes, Rose," he doesn't dare move closer to you at this moment, only keeping your gaze steady with his. "We saw the fear in them when you saw Sejun. When you mentioned him. How are we to believe it is not real if you look as if you were in complete and utter anguish? Were we to pretend we did not see?"

His words bring the horrendous tears to your eyes, fingers digging into your slacks as your body trembles. The familiar wave of anxiousness and hurt slowly encases you. Without hesitation Yeosang crouches down in front of you, his hand placed lightly on yours covering your knee. He moves it slowly, placing it just above his heart.

"Breathe in and out with me, Rose. Listen to the beat of my heart, the slowness of my breaths. It's okay, you're safe."

You concentrate on the sound of his voice, gasping for air. After a few moments you settle down enough to meet his eyes, welcome the warmth that looks back at you. You close yours for a moment, feeling his heartbeat underneath your fingertips.

"You are too kind, Yeosang," you whisper. "Comforting a woman you barely know."

“You say that continuously, you know,” Yeosang keeps his hand on yours, brow quirked. “Often, over and over. Mentioning you are a woman, mentioning that we are strangers to you. Do you want us to remain as such? Always separate, unwilling to open yourself up. Are we to continue to be aboard this ship without knowing one thing about you?”

If you could laugh through your shaky breaths, you would. Instead though, you close your eyes. “Peaches.”

“Hm?”

“I love peaches,” you continue, eyes flicking to him. “When I glimpsed them in front of me while dining on my first night here, it reminded me of my time as a little girl. My mother used to hand me peach slices during the summertime while I cooled myself down. I have not let one touch my lips since she passed. It was… I don’t know, a reminder of what I lost. So when I saw them sitting in that bowl, everything was thrown back to me.”

You move your hand from under his. His eyes widen as he begins to apologize, until you place it against his cheek. Your thumb rubs against his temple, tracing the outline of his birthmark. His eyes flutter at your touch. “You sat on the other side of that bowl and said you felt pity for me. Not one being on this Earth since I have lived has ever said that to me. It made me– warm. Just like those summer nights.”

You move your face closer to his, breaths paused as you’re merely a word away from pressing your lips against his. You stare into his eyes, searching for any hesitance. Instead, they are darkened. Ravenous. His hands rest on either side of the end of the bed, caging you in his hold. You glance to the side, seeing how his nails dig into the mattress.

“This is not wise, to involve myself with you,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his cheek. “I should not want you so desperately.”

“Saying that merely inches from my lips only makes my desire rise,” his voice is deeper, leaning forward as you lean back. Your head drops to his mattress lightly, watching as he climbs above you, dark locks framing his face. His chest rises and falls quickly, leaning forward. Just as you close your eyes to receive him, you feel the brush of his lips against your ear. “I want to ravish you, Rose. Feel you tight against me, holding me with desperation as I make love to you. But,” he moves off of you, a small, polite smile on his lips. Completely different from the man whispering in your ear seconds prior. “I am a gentleman. And I will not sully you on a night like this. Please, rest well. I will return in the morning to guide you to breakfast.”

Yeosang does not allow you to say even a letter in response, shutting the door quietly behind him and walking down the hallway. You touch your cheeks, warmth coating them as you try to catch your breath. You could only laugh, biting your lip as you gaze out the small window in his room. Though there is a bit of disappointment from being rejected, he did it with such class that you could only admire it.

“What a wondrous man,” you murmur.

-

Time passes by somewhat slowly. You never see Sejun again with great thanks, though you are afraid of what they've done to him. None of the men you've come to know well utter a word, most avoiding the subject completely. It worries you that they've killed him. You even took a walk down to the cells to see if he was there but it was of no use. There are few things that could have happened: they're either hiding him from your presence, or his body is lost in the blue sea. The latter makes your stomach turn. Everyone does not let your thoughts linger on it too much. You spend much needed time with your brother when he has any spare left for you, and often have deep talks with the others. But something has been tugging at your heart, prickling at your skin.

Feelings are difficult to navigate. Many of your own mixed into a spiral of confusion. You've grown to care for each of the main crew in different ways, but much of it far from innocent. In the beginning you blamed your own flirtatious and sultry nature on the way they've been interacting with you. Fingers brushed against your skin, touches lingering here and there. Hell (Pardon your language), that brief moment with Yeosang still lingers in your mind. And it is not like he makes it any better, darkened eyes often meeting yours as you speak to another, knowing smile on his lips when you bring someone to a fit of laughter. The dark nights of you with him in his bed, fingers on your bare skin, within you. There's no jealousy, no. Just something else you cannot distinguish from a look.

You stare at your reflection in a quieter room, humming softly as you meet your eyes. Your skin has darkened from the burning sun, sun spots beginning to decorate your skin from the exposure. You run your fingers along the new dress San gifted you, eyes linger on the long slit that almost meets your right hip. It's quite scandalous to wear on a ship full of yearning men. You'd more than likely never wear it with any of them around, in fear that your underlying desires will get the best of you. You haven't forgotten your main mission, finding the person who killed your parents, your family. But being around the eight with these complicated feelings only seems to make you lose your thought.

The door to the room swings open without a second thought, your eyes moving to the reflection of whoever entered. Wooyoung hums as he kicks the door closed, supplies and materials tucked beneath his pits. After a moment his eyes move around the room, meeting yours in your reflection. Panic and red rushes to his skin, supplies forgotten as they all scatter to the floor. You can only laugh at his usual clumsiness, his frantic expression as he gathers his things. You stay in your spot, watching him place it where it belongs.

"I am terribly sorry for interrupting you," he says quickly, cheeks still crimson.

You wave him off, rubbing your hands over the fabric that rests against your skin. "Do you think this fits my figure well, Woo?" The first time you said the nickname he faltered and stumbled over his words. And as you look at him now, it still seems to be the same.

“Of course, you’ve always been pretty, Rose,” Wooyoung stands just behind you. His hair is wispy against his cheeks, skin covered in grease marks from working in the orlop. His wear is more used, holes lining the seams. He steps closer as you gaze at him, approaching hesitantly. He’s always been reserved in his affections of you, as if you’d crumble beneath his touch if he dared approach you. Even now, your eyes wander to his, his deep brown ones flicking away from your gaze. A light pink coats his tanned cheeks, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have you rested your eyes on me? It doesn’t seem like you can, my dear Wooyoung,” your tone is light, a smile resting on your lips as you stare at his reflection. “Is the dress that I wear dreadful? What a pity,” you pout, looking away for a brief moment to stare at your figure. "San would be disappointed."

Your words pull him out of his embarrassment, concerned eyes widening as he moves closer. “Rose, you could never be anything but pretty. I am just… it feels like I am undeserving of your presence. I can call one of the others inside to assure you of your beauty–“

“Now why would I desire to see one of them when I am with you?”

“Your words make me faint,” he admits, anxious laughter adorning his words. “It's because they’re much bolder than I. They can recite poetry and I can only express to you that you will never be ugly.”

His small speech leaves you at a pause. You’ve often pondered what he thought of you. Despite how garrulous he often was, Wooyoung never told you what he felt about you. It was sensible enough to assume that he adored your company from what he did express, but seeing him now flounder over his actions made him all the more charming.

Still, you laugh a bit. His cheeks flushed a deeper crimson from the reflection, guilt coursing through you for even making the sound.

“Can you come closer?” You say, turning around to look at him. He’s a bit fidgety in his approach, tensioning up when your hand touches his cheek. His eyes look at you. Wooyoung carries himself as if he isn’t one of the most alluring men you’ve come to know. Some semblance of yourself is glad he doesn’t know. He could use your weakness to him with ease and you would fall to your knees. Between all of the confidence you’ve built upon yourself, you would do anything for the eight men you’ve come to know. Even the captain you've often avoided.

Your thumb brushes against his high cheek, kissing the mole beneath his eye. His eyes flick to the mirror before looking at you, wonder within them. It was a bold move to let your lips touch his skin. You're all but glad that he didn't take it in a negative way. Even with all his affection toward you, there's a chance you could have misstepped.

“I’m filthy. You shouldn’t stain your pretty hands with me.”

“Wooyoung,” your smile slowly grows. “You’ve stained much more than my hands.”

Something odd resides in his gaze once you utter the words. Fear courses through you as he stares at you, afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing. But instead, he places his hands on either side of your face. There’s a brief hesitation as he leans down. As if he is waiting for you to pull away. But you don’t, won’t and he smiles, eyes crinkling.

“You are not pulling away,” he states curiously. “A bit odd, no?”

“A handsome man is holding my face in his hands and you ask me why I am not anything but elated at the fact?” You laugh lightly, his matching yours. Without another word he pulls you against him, chapped lips moving against yours with ease. You gasp into his mouth, feeling the touch of his hands move from your face. The two of you stumble back, hitting the wall in the process. He pulls away to apologize but you only hush him with another press of your lips.

There’s a light knock on the door just as his hand slips past your hips. You pull away from him in an instant, eyes on whoever just entered. Yunho stands there, brow raised as he leans against the doorframe. Though you don’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes you can see from the side that his cheeks are burning, head tilted down. You cannot help but giggle at the obscenity of it all, turning around and adjusting your dress in the mirror. Yunho watches you as you fix your hair and dress, turning back to look at him.

“Though I have no issue with activities outside of main work, leaving the door ajar for everyone to witness is very rude, no?” His eyes flick to Wooyoung, glancing at the supplies he dropped to the floor. “Ah, what a mess.”

“Hyung–"

Yunho lifts his hand, stopping him just before he goes on a tirade. “I will not scold you, just clean after yourself. Please. And Rose,” he meets your gaze this time. You assumed that it would be harsh, condemnatory. Instead it’s almost amused, lips frowning. “Interrupting our duties is not wise.”

“I asked of you to position me for a job, but you insisted that I do not. What am I to do with all of this time on the open ocean? Sit and fold my hands like a good little girl?” You tilt your head, pout forming on your lips. You’re only teasing of course, not noticing how Yunho’s eyes flick to the curve of your lips, fists tightening against his will. He lets out a breath, shaking his head.

“Captain wants to see you.”

This time there’s true disdain in your expression. You glance back at Wooyoung, his head still hung in shame. Taking a quick glance at Yunho, now joined with Seonghwa, you move quickly, pressing your lips against Wooyoung’s cheeks and disappearing out the door.

“You will be the end of him,” Seonghwa says, moving just as quickly next to you, Yunho left alone with the flustered Wooyoung. “I doubt he’ll have a restful night.”

“And he will be the end of me,” you shrug. You try to appear innocent, but a grin stretches across your cheeks. “I do enjoy his presence. He has kept me up more nights than he realizes.” And those words are true. Oftentimes you stir in your room, thoughts filled with the men aboard. Many not so innocent. It has weighed on you, knowing that in this brief time you’ve fallen for each of them one way or another. And it would be selfish of you to enjoy every single one. Even the man who follows you now. Once these thoughts begin to bubble to the surface, the potential of looking into their eyes and them seeing how you feel terrifies you.

“What do you suggest?”

“Hm?”

Seonghwa smiles, “Were you so entrapped in that mind of yours? I was asking: What do you suggest we give you while you’re with us? It cannot be too difficult because our captain will disagree with just a flick of his hand. But I do not want you to be riddled with boredom for the duration of your stay.”

You could truly care less what the captain wants for you to do, but you cannot outwardly disagree. Though you’re sure each mate on board knows of your disdain towards the man. Seonghwa seems to pick up on it now, nudging your arm slightly.

“An attempt at trying to be cordial will do you wonders,” he teases. “If you cannot come up with anything do not worry, I’ll convince him of something.”

“Thank you, truly, Seonghwa,” you say.

“Of course,” he waves you off, taking a slight step in front of you just before entering Hongjoong’s office. A quick knock on the door and he opens it, stepping to the side for you to enter. You wish that he could stay and help you deal with Hongjoong yourself, but of course you have no such luck. Seonghwa shuts the door behind you.

You don’t bother to sit on the chair just across from his desk, watching as he writes away. And he does not seem to acknowledge you either, continuing. You take the chance to walk around his office, standing just in front of his bookshelf. Several stories you recognize line the shelves, one in particular catching your eye. It’s old, dust covering the jacket. But you can see the letters written in a language unknown to you. You dare not touch it. Taking that chance and putting yourself in a bad position with the captain of the ship is not ideal. Even if you dislike him as much as you do.

“Anything that is mine is yours,” his voice drifts up just behind you, causing you to tense. His arm reaches over your body, plucking the book off the shelf. You slowly turn around as he moves back to his desk, flipping through the page.

“This ship then?” You raise your brow.

He looks at you. “Anything that you want, I will give it to you. If you so desire this ship of mine, so be it.”

You expected some sort of joke at the end, any indication that he is only teasing you. But his expression remains firm, eyes steady. Your brows furrow as you take it in, puzzled. “You are not serious?”

“Deadly, my Rose,” he flips to another page, humming softly. “I have not touched this book in ages. Interesting that it would catch your attention.”

Though you are still not over his words, you let him stir the conversation away. “It’s rare to see a man with many books like those on his shelf. Romance? Comedy? Many only interest themselves in that to woo their desired partner,” you note, eyes on many books written by women. “It piqued my interest since I could not fathom someone like you picking up a book.”

“Do you hate sailors that much?” he asks, chuckling, “Or it is just I?”

You let out a dry laugh. “I can intermingle with sailors just fine.”

“Then it is I, then,” he says, shrugging. “I cannot blame you. I’ve already confessed that I hunger for you severely and that may have alarmed you, but it is my true feelings. I will wait however long—”

“And I have said countless times that nothing will happen, Hongjoong,” you quip. Your annoyance slowly dissipates, rubbing your temple as you speak your next words. “But I must say, thank you. I did not want Sejun to be punished by any of you, but I thank you for listening to my words when I spoke them. And not questioning anything that I told you.”

“Why would I?” His brows furrow. “You are part of my crew.”

“I am temporarily part of it as I have said before,” you note. “But we are moving far from the point. Why have you asked Seonghwa to bring me to your quarters? Is there anything you need from me?”

He flips to the next page in his book, “Yes. It is actually related to the book I hold.” He closes it shut, facing the cover to you. You take a step closer, eyes flicking over the illustration. It is a man being held by a woman, crimson coating her pale neck, pooling beneath the both of them. Her face is dipped into the curve of his neck, hands gripping his body as she holds him tightly. It is a disturbing image, makes you feel ill just gazing upon it.

“Why would you read such a thing?” You say, eyes shifting to him. He does not say much, gaze glazing over yours, blinking slowly. Without another word, he places it to the side, sitting on the edge of his desk. It brings his height lower than your own, but even with the shift he still holds his power. You take a slight step back, watching as he tracks your movements.

“Have you ever heard of the term jiāngshī?”

“A myth passed down to children so that they wouldn’t leave their homes at night? Yes, I’ve heard of such things. The lady of the house used it to frighten her children into obedience. But I am sure everyone has heard of that tale.”

“Do you believe for them to be true?” His tone is serious, unusually so. You have not seen anyone this deeply concerned about folklore that only the young believe. But the way he speaks of it makes you unsure of your next response.

“Why would I? Do you believe in it?”

His law is low, fingers dragging through his blond hair. “If you asked me several thousand years ago I would have called you mad. Unfortunately, it is hard not to believe in something you were forced to become.”

  “You speak as if you’ve lived during that time,” your eyes roll, shaking your head. “Perhaps those tales have gotten to you.”

“Perhaps,” he moves close to you, hand slipping to your side. You widen your eyes at the closeness, until he grabs the knife on your side, taking it in his hands. He balances it between his fingers, humming. “Or perhaps it is because I am one of them.”

Oh. Oh no. You were only jesting, but he does believe he is this otherworldly being. Before you could say anything else, he raises your silver knife, stabbing it into his neck. You scream, reaching for his body just as he falls to his knees. No, no…

“What have you done, Hongjoong?” you cry, blood covering your fingers as you desperately try to figure out what to do. There isn’t enough time to run and tell someone. Your anger for him runs deep, but you care about him. Will the others think the same as his dead body lies to the wooden floor, neck punctured by your own blade? “Why would you do this, you fool?” You grip his blouse, pulling him closer to you, letting him rest on your dress-covered legs. He only smiles at you, blood spilling from his lips as he holds you close. His fingers reach up to grip the knife, slowly sliding it from his neck.

You place your hand on his, trying to stop him, but he pushes against your grip, pulling it out slowly. The cabin door swings open just as he pulls it out all the way. Yeosang stands there, fear in his eyes as he takes in the scene. Once his gaze lays on Hongjoong he… sighs in relief.

Relief?

You look back down at Hongjoong, watching as the wound in his neck slowly mends together, blood stopping as it closes. It completely disappears from your sight as he wipes his lips, groaning once he lifts himself off of you. You’re at a loss for words, unable to move from your spot. He stands, dusting off his pants.

“No need to stand there, Yeosang. You can go back to your duties,” Hongjoong waves him off. He stares at your frozen figure, swallowing slowly before he closes the door just behind him. Hongjoong grabs the cloth sitting on his desk, wiping off your blade just as he begins to speak.

“We are often referred to as leeches, freeloaders, parasites,” he narrows his eyes at the memories, harshly wiping the metal. “But we are none of the sort. We can control ourselves, Rose. It is not hard to do so.” Your eyes cannot move away from the blood on your hands, soaking your dress, dripping to the floor. “I know this is a lot to take in—”

You hear his foot take a closer step, tensing up at the sound. “Do not come near me,” you whisper, frantically wiping your hands on your dress and standing. This must be Hell. You must have died, forced to stay on this ship. There is nothing that comes to mind that makes you believe this is real. “Let me off this ship, now.”

“Where will you go?” He asks softly. Your head moves to meet his gaze, gasping once you see his eyes. They’re darker now, a deep burgundy. You stumble back, almost losing your footing. “You are afraid.” He states.

“Afraid? I am wholly petrified, Hongjoong. Because I am trying to put my mind at ease, understand what is happening. I… you… this has to be witticism. None of those tales were ever real. It was a fable passed down in fear of the dark. The animals that roamed at night. There is no such thing as jiāngshī.”

Hongjoong shrugs, hand outstretched to give you your blade back. You do not dare to move any closer to the man. All you have left is distance. He sighs, placing your weapon on his desk. He opens the closet just behind it, taking out a large jug. You look as he pours the thick, red liquid into the glass. The metal smell lingers in the air. He lifts his wine glass, taking slow sips. You hold your hand over your mouth, the sight unbelievable. He’s been drinking that the entire time you’ve been on this ship. In the beginning you presumed it was wine, but under these circumstances you cannot help but believe otherwise.

He’s convinced you enough that he is a jiāngshī. You lean forward for your blade, his wrist curling around yours just as you reach for it. You almost let out another scream of terror, until his piercing gaze meets yours.

“Let me go,” you plead, tears falling down your cheeks.

His expression breaks, sorrow filling his gaze. “I do not want you afraid of me, my dear Rose. Please do not be afraid. I will never hurt you.”

“Why show me this? What is your purpose?”

“As I have told you, I want you. And that begins with you being able to trust me. I greatly long for you to. Showing you my true self is one of many steps.”

“And then?” you say. “Did you expect me to be elated at that fact? Unafraid of you once you’ve shown me? You are…” The word monster is yearning to spill from your lips, but you force it back. Holding your breath as you do so. Hongjoong seems to know it as well, his hold loosening. You pull back immediately, gripping the handle of your blade as you move to the exit. “I will not stay here, Hongjoong.”

“The others want it too.”

You stop moving. “What?”

He turns to you, lips stained with the blood he swallowed. “They want to be like me, my Rose. They want me to turn them into jiāngshī.”

“You lie.” Why would anyone want to become something other than human? “Why?”

“You directly accuse me of being a monster and now you ask why anyone would want this?” He laughs dryly, shaking his head. “There are many curses to being this: forced to live by the blood of men, never to have children of my own. But I live an endless life. I am given freedom. I am cursed to never die but it is a blessing. I walk amongst the masses without any second glance. No one knows what I am.”

“There are more of you?”

He nods slowly, “I am the first. But centuries prior, I grew lonely. Wanting others to be with me. And those beings are what the stories tell of, not I.”

Bile sits in the back of your throat. “Then why would they agree?” Though you do not say their names, there could only be few. “Who would give up life for an endless, tortuous existence?"

“Yunho,” he starts, eyes resting on yours. “Wooyoung. Mingi.”

“Stop–"

“Jongho. Seonghwa. San.”

Your heart is pained at the names, the men you've grown to know and care for. But one in particular, one you would have hated to hear, he does not say.

“Yeosang?” You ask softly, waiting for the inevitable hurt.

“No,” he shrugs. “He was the only one who disagreed with the plan. But we only have two weeks, my Rose. Until they will be as I am. I hoped that you would join, but it seems to not be the case.” A pout lines his lips as he stares. “What a shame. We could have spent the end of our days with you."

"Our days are supposed to end in a few decades, Hongjoong. Not an eternity."

There must be a way to convince the others. Stop them from ruining their lives in such a way. But would it even work? Would your attempt only be fruitless? If they gazed upon Hongjoong and saw something desirable, is there any way to convince them otherwise? His blood still stains your fingers, deep in the fabric that San gifted you. You move closer to the door, shaking your head. They could spend the remaining days seeking for you to join them, but you'd never.

Not in a lifetime.

Just as you begin to turn, the door behind you swings open. You meet the eyes of Jongho, expression dropping once he sees your gown. You push past him, barely giving the men on the deck a glance as you make your way to the front. Air. That is what you need. A clear mind.

You take a bucket as you walk, water splashing against the wooden boards. You rest near the edge, almost throwing yourself against the boards. The way your body trembles, silent cries encasing your frame. You're brave, you're tough. This should not affect you the way it does. Seeing their faces in your mind, flashing one by one. Yunho with his neverending glee, eyes filled with happiness. Jongho with his quiet but sure nature. Seonghwa and his kindness. Mingi and his humor, his great love. Wooyoung and his shyness, underneath it being truth, sureness. San and his determination, his loud love. Humans.

Humanity. How could they give up something so precious? A life is not something easy to come by. You bring the bucket closer. With the small cup inside, you slowly pour the water over your hands, ridding yourself of the nearly black blood. You should have known then. His body was covered in this strange color. Nothing like human blood, too dark to even be considered red. You scrub harshly, sucking in breaths. Why would it not go away with ease? Why must you struggle against this? Why does it hurt so much?

"Jongho was worried."

You jump at the voice, turning back around. Mingi stands there, almost shrunken in on himself as he looks at you. Warmth coats his cheeks, possibility due to the low temperature of the night. You cannot look at him without seeing Hongjoong, hearing his words. They want to be like me, my Rose.

"Please go," you whisper. "You will not want to hear my next words if I continue."

"Then just listen to mine, please darling." His endearment. He says it with such ease, heart. He takes your not-response as an invitation to move forward. In the beginning he keeps you company as you scrub. The tears continue to roll, even more so as he sits there with you. From the corner of your eye he takes a handkerchief from his pocket, reaching out to touch your hand. You flinch.

"I will not do anything you would not like, Rose. Tell me to go and I will."

You look at him. Never in your mind would you want him to leave. You let him take your hand, slowly wipe your skin. He's doing a better cleaning job than your smearing, humming as he does so.

"We've all suffered in some way," he starts, dipping the rag again. "That is why we have decided to join the crew. Our lives were empty. Mine was empty. I lost everyone I've ever known to a fire. I had nothing but the clothing and shoes on my feet. I begged for years until Hongjoong saw me one day and placed me on his crew. No one saw me the way he did. So when he told me of his nature, I could not be afraid. I love him too much to ever think of him as anything other than my captain. Creature or not."

"Why become one of him? Why can you not stay as you are?"

Mingi's breath drags, a low sigh. "Because I was never anything special. I know what you are thinking: I must convince Mingi otherwise so he can change his mind. But this moment now is not something that has suddenly been a decision. He told me of his nature before. Years prior to now. I have always desired, ever since back then, to be like him. To be as strong as powerful. To hold my own. To be someone he could be proud of. He is like the brother I've always wanted, Rose. And I never want to leave his side. Just as I wish to never leave yours."

"I'm not becoming a jiāngshī, Mingi," you sat sternly. "I will avenge my family, then live as a free woman. For the rest of my days."

"You're given eternity and you will not grasp it in your hands?" He asks.

"My life is hard and I would change many things without blinking, but I do not want to live it forever. Humans are not meant to live forever. That is a curse, Mingi. You will watch everyone you care for perish–"

"I only care for the eight of us," he says. "I have no other people but you all. I need nothing else."

You do not know me well, is what you should tell him. I am not this woman you think I am. I am weak, I am unstable. I am not a suitable partner for any of you. Love is not something that I deserve. Instead you can only nod, worry encasing your features. He's so sure of his choice that all you can do is protest and say you'll never agree. You want to save him, save them all. Hongjoong said that he cannot die, but there must be a way.

Because in the end, you love them. And in a strange, bitter way, you love him too. But no human should live this long. No wonder his mind is so deluded. Terrifying. Years upon years of longing for a family and finally having one does that to you. And though you disagreed, along with Yeosang, there is some part of you that believes they will listen to your words. Not his.

"The next stop is soon, correct?" You ask. Mingi is almost shocked at the change of conversation, but nods anyway. "Wonderful."

"Will you leave us?" His hand on yours tightens. "I know that you said you would, but–"

"No."

His eyes light up. You could almost cry at the shine of them in the moonlight. "Are you jesting? Or am I hearing this strangely?"

"I am not leaving you, Mingi. Not yet–"

He pulls you into his arms without another word, a yelp falling from your lips as he embraces you. Despite the dire situation you can almost giggle at his cheerfulness. You wrap your arms around his body, his laughs echoing into your ear. It almost brings tears to your eyes.

"I'm so happy," he says.

You close your eyes, taking in his warmth. You will save him. You will save them all, whether they know it yet or not.

—

Quiet is not something you have ever considered yourself. Even as a young child, your laughs echoing throughout the hallways of your family home. While working as a handmaiden, there was rarely a time you would be silent. Most of your days were filled to the top with orders of the lady or requests being sent out. Never a moment of silence. So your choice to remain so while on the ship bothered all the men you came across. Mingi's teasing is minimal now. Yunho avoids you each time you enter the main mass. Wooyoung and Yeosang are often paired off somewhere you could not find them. San tries to speak to you but you can only give him a smile, maybe. Seonghwa and Hongjoong you could not avoid even if you tried. The latter filled your vision in random moments, sometimes while you helped in the kitchen, other times when you sat alone reading a novel. Seonghwa looked the most worried out of everyone, keeping his eye on you when he could.

Jongho. Jongho you are worried for. He often smiled around you before the circumstances of your silence. Now he never leaves his room. It scares you how quickly he shifted into himself. And now that you're on shore, the only thing you're thinking of is bringing him someplace you can distinguish his feelings. Help the two of you understand the choice that he is making. As soon as San throws over the anchor you're pulling Jongho, your hands curl into his as Yunho lowers the orlop doors.

"Rose?" Jongho asks softly, nervously.

You only turn to him, a smile crossing your lips. "I have only ever been in this city once with my former lady. There's a sight I must show you at once."

"We have so much to do–" Yunho starts behind you, silenced once he sees the look you give him. "Please do not be too late. Captain will throw me to the wolves."

"The captain has other things to worry about," you say, dragging Jongho along with you. The city is alive at this time of day, merchants lining the streets with goods of every kind. Jongho moves a bit closer to you as you make your way through, eyeing men who give you a look over. You can't help but feel endeared at his protectiveness over you. A light smile settles over your lips.

"I have enough coins for dinner if you would like–" Jongho says, glancing at some booths. "If you are hungry please do not hesitate to let me know."

You look up at him, patting the satchel that hangs from your waist. "I have prepared some snacks for us. But we should eat something. Though the walk is not long, we may become starved on the way." You stop in front of a stand, candy coated berries sitting on small wooden sticks.

Jongho notices right away, asking the merchant for two. He hands you one and you can only thank him, taking it between your fingers. "I cannot believe sweets are my dinner."

He shrugs, taking a mouthful, "It is quite tasty," he says through full cheeks. You admire the look for a moment, taking a small bite of your own. Thoughts flash in your head, your sweet Jongho forced to drink blood to survive. Your expression drops at the imagery, not going unnoticed by him. But just as he begins to question you, you entwine your hands once more, running through the crowds and making your way up a trail.

You stop at the peak, reminded of your time when you were younger, your parents bringing you to this same spot. You never thought you’d be on this island again, haunted by your last time. The blood everywhere. You look at Jongho, his eyes wide in awe as he takes in the city. You move to step on the rock, his hand immediately appearing at your side to steady you. You thank him, eyes on the city below your feet. From here you can see the lights, the people. The chaos in the distance. You hold in a breath, trying your best to figure out how to tell him how you feel.

Love is not something you wanted. You were once determined, sure that you would not fall for any of them. But as you look at Jongho, take in his delicate features, think of how he takes care of you with such ease, all you can feel is the exact emotion you did not want to. You let out a shaky sigh, sucking in a breath.

“Rose?” He asks, only for you to shake your head. You sit down on the rock, his movement matching yours.

"My time on this ship was nothing like I expected. Meeting Yunho, I presumed that I would be hiding out in the orlop until the next destination. Nothing would have prepared me for meeting my brother, or becoming so enamored by eight men,” Eight men. What a number. “And I am afraid. Afraid to care for someone so deeply that I cannot breathe. I want you to know that I love you, Jongho. My care for you has moved past anything I've ever known, and it scares me how much I do. How could I live, knowing there was a chance that I could save you from this choice you have made? That I could have told you my true feelings? But in the end you are your own man, and I cannot make decisions for you. I would just like you to know that I truly am not sure this is the correct one you're making."

You look at your fingers, pulling him closer to the edge of the rock with you. "When I first came here it felt so liberating. Watching the lights of the town bright against the sky, seeing each and every person's life pass by every second. I can see why someone would want to have that feeling everlasting. But even Hongjoong himself said that he grew lonely. It is a curse for a reason, Jongho. I would not want you to regret it."

Jongho sits silently by you. He is a man of few words. You've never expected anything else from him. His hand pulls from yours and you're hurt briefly, until the same hand cups your cheek, moving your face to meet his. His eyes are moist, touch shaky as he stares at you. "I wish that I could choose otherwise for you, Rose. I wish that I was brave enough to give up and live until we grow old together. But as do you, I have a family. Though we may not be related in the slightest bit, I cannot let them go that easily. And for that I am sorry."

Another no. You're running out of time. You sigh, gaze moving to the ground. "Will I ever convince you, Jongho?"

"You will not, Rose."

You swallow slowly, nodding. "Alright." You rest your forehead against his, eyes closed. “I just wanted you to know how I felt about it all. That I would never join you, no matter how much my love grows. Extends. Death is something that will always be there for me.”

“If we all are turned into this, would you still say no?” He asks, fingers rubbing your cheek. “If it were all eight of us, would you still not follow?”

“Yeosang would not–” You start, but he shakes his head.

“There is always the chance that he may change his mind.”

“What are you saying, Jongho?” You pull away from him, forcing his hand off your cheek. Anger rises in your body as you stare at him. “He said he would not, so I will take his word. Why are you saying something else entirely?”

He waves his hands in innocence, shaking his head quickly. “I am not saying he will, I am saying it is possible! That is all, Rose. Please do not be angry, I’m just trying to let you see all possibilities. I love you, Rose. I would not want you to do anything you do not want to. No matter how much any of us will suffer in the process, do you understand that? I accept your choices, as you accepted mine just now. If you do not want to live like us, I will never stop you from it. I will let your choices stay, because you are your own person. Forcing my desires onto you is something I would never want to do. Ever,” he emphasizes.

You laugh dryly, rubbing your face. “I’m sorry, I just panicked. I thought you were telling me he changed his mind. It was just a lot to take in for this brief moment.” You must be losing yourself. Has your confidence faltered this much around them? You huff, getting to your feet. You cup your hands around your mouth, staring out into the city.

“I love you, Choi Jongho!”

“Rose!” His eyes widen, moving closer to get to you. You only avoid his hands, laughing.

“I, Rose, am in love with Choi Jongho!” Your laughs are loud just as he grabs you, pulling you down from the spot. His cheeks are a lovely pink, an embarrassed expression on his face. You lean up, pressing your lips against his with ease. “Are you in love with me, Choi Jongho?” You tilt your head, eyes flicking between his. “Are you okay with me being in love with every one of you?”

Without another word, his hands rest against your neck, pulling you against him. His hands are everywhere, in your hair, pressing against your back to pull you closer to him. You giggle as the two of you stumble, falling into a pile of leaves. He does not leave your mouth until you pull away yourself. His hair is a mess, sticking every which way as you look up at him.

“Do you–”

“I am terribly in love with you, Rose. And it terrifies me how much I am that even with your declaration of saying you love another just as much does not bother me in the slightest.”

Your smile slips, laughing coming out more like a scoff. You put your hands back on either side of his face. He feels warm, real. In just a few weeks time, he will no longer. Will you be afraid of him, as you are of Hongjoong? Your heart pains at the thought.

-

“Hold,” He balances the wooden longsword between his fingers. “Keeping your hold steady is key. Your opponent will often use brunt force, but there’s a chance they may be nimble, light on their feet. I’ve rarely if ever come across someone as such, but if you are that exact way, it will be easier to dodge. The only shields we have on ship are scattered about in case of an ambush, but rarely will there be one in hand when it happens. So you must be prepared for that situation.”

You let out a low sigh, staring at the sword in your hands. Seonghwa insisted that you were to train while you were on the ship. You protested for a while until your brother added along with it to the point that you had to agree. And after all of those days arguing here you are with San. Sweat stains your clothing as you rest against the wall. You’ve been at this for hours now, exhaustion seeping into your bones. San’s frown deepens, the crescents against his cheeks matching it. You can help but giggle.

“You said you would cooperate,” he drawls, pointing the sword at you. “But you have been a difficult student.” You move closer to his sword. Once it pokes your arm only slightly, you crumble to the floor, laid out as you stare up at the blue sky.

“Oh boo, what am I to do? You have slain me, I am unable to move anymore. Looks like the lesson is over~” you grin at his face appearing in your vision, a joy against the cloud backdrop. “Mr. Choi, please, let me see this sky once more before disintegrating into nothing!”

“You are not sand, Rose,” he sighs softly, “Seonghwa will not be happy that we have not completed the lesson for today.”

You widen your eyes. “It’s been several hours! If I train anymore my limbs will fall from their sockets! And I am sure he will not enjoy that, Mr. Choi.”

He snorts now, moving from your view. You pout a bit on how easily he’s fallen for your words, until you feel his arms underneath you, pulling you up from the boards. You squeal, wrapping your arms around his body as he holds you against his chest. He laughs, walking you down the stairs to the washroom. Your face warms at how close he is to you, his brow raises at your silence.

“You were talkative just a moment ago. What has made the difference?”

Ah, so he is now cheeky? You move your gaze to his, ignoring how your heart races at the proximity. “Being in the arms of my swordsmanship teacher is not proper in the slightest. How am I to focus on honing my skills when I have a teacher as handsome as yourself? I may faint if we meet eyes.”

Your words do not sway him like it does everyone else, though. “If I am to see a beautiful woman faint at mere sight then I must be doing something correctly. Especially if it is the most elegant flower in the whole garden.”

“You only say that because I am the only flower you see. If this ship was riddled with women you would say otherwise–”

“Do not take my flirtatious words as only that, Rose,” His teasing shifts as he places you back on the floor, dropping to his knees as he does so. You slip from his hold, his hand resting against the doorframe as he looks to you. Sweat drips from his brow, his next words threatening to make you fall to your knees. “My wanting is not only due to you being the only woman I see. As I have said before, you are the most beautiful flower in the garden. If there were hundreds, no, thousands, of flowers surrounding me, you would stand out.”

“There are millions of Roses, you cannot say that.”

“There are millions,” he agrees, moving closer to you. “But none are the one who matches my teasing, treats me as you do, cares for me as such, thanks me for handing her a spoon, worries for me when I’ve fallen ill, thinks about me more often than she would admit. No, not one of those roses is mine.”

Now, how could each of these men leave you speechless? San moves closer, the washroom door closing behind him. You take steps back as he moves forward, your back pressing against the wooden panels. He holds himself up against the wall, forearms on either side of you as he looks at you.

“Do you understand my words, Rose? Or shall I repeat them again?” His brow quirks.

You lick your lips, his gaze watching as you do so. “All you men, all you ever do is think you can take me with ease.”

“How can I take you when you already consider yourself mine? Do you think that I do not know how you look at me? How you look at the rest of us? Anything you want from me, Rose, anything, I will give to you without a second thought. Love, desire, protection. Anything you’d like, I am willing.”

“I can protect myself,” you say, purposefully ignoring the other words. “Do not think that because I am a woman that I cannot."

“I know that you can. But I will protect you anyway, because you are my woman.”

You take in a breath. “Now what am I supposed to say to that?”

“Anything you want,” he moves closer, your chests pressed against each other’s. Both of your clothing is soaked in sweat, his still dripping down his face. Your hand reaches behind his head, tugging him closer. He wastes little time, your lips a breath away from another’s, his breathing tickling you. He brushes his own lips slightly against yours, groaning. His tongue slowly drags against yours.

“I’ve always wanted you this way. Trapped in my arms, unable to leave,” he murmurs. He does not seek a response, moving closer to you, his chest pressed against yours, You rest your hands behind his head as he laughs into your lips, leaning forward. His tongue plays with yours, your head hitting the wood. His eyes search yours with concern but you only roll your eyes, playing with his hair. His hands slide down to grip your hips. He groans against your lips when you tug hard against his hair.

“A lady does not make love against a wall, San,” you grumble. He shines his pretty crescents back at you, moving deeper into the room. He slowly glides you down to the floor, crawling on top of you. “You are so pretty at this angle.”

“You call me pretty?” his brow raises. “Before I can even say it about you?”

“I love being the first, of course.”

“I love you,” he says suddenly, stunning you. His grin stretches across his face, “And now I am the first.”

“You’re a sly man, Choi San.”

“And you are even more of a sly woman, Miss Rose.” His hands slide down your body, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. You help him, pulling it above your head. He places it delicately on the side of the two of you, hands gripping your sides. He presses a light kiss against your neckline. ”I love you Rose. And I know it is forward of me to say so when you have not confessed before I, but I do. Believe me when I say the words, because I will never stop.”

Your heart swells at his confession despite the circumstances. You love him and you know that he knows that well, but it only warms your heart that he feels the same. “Do you?” You whisper. He takes his lips off of you, leveling his eyesight with yours. “Are you saying that because I am a beautiful woman, or do you truly mean those words?”

“I love you, Rose. And I will love you even after I die. I will love you in every lifetime of yours. I will love you in a world beyond ours, in a story unlike anything we have ever experienced together. I will meet you again and again and my feelings will never change.” He takes your hand, pressing it against the left of his chest. “Now that I have found you, my heart only beats for you. The day that it stops beating will not make me love you less.”

“Do not speak of your death in a time like this,” you say, biting your lip. “I believe you.”

His expression relaxes. “My words are not sweet for the sake of them, Rose. If you never touched me I will still love you the same.”

“Well that is too bad,” you smile. “Because I want to touch you everywhere, Sannie.”

His gaze shifts, loving eyes more surly. You feel his fingers gripping you even tighter.

“You seem uneasy?” you ask. He shakes his head, fingers dipping beneath the lining of your slacks. He rips them with ease, tossing them somewhere near the buckets of water. “Mr. Choi?”

“You seek to ruin me with your words,” his fingers dip inside you without another word, groaning. “You seek to ruin me with your words, but all I can feel is me ruining you, Rose. Do not give me that look,” his lips lift in a smirk. “My words ring true.”

“A man who looks like sin will make any woman glance twice,” you gasp as his finger curls, a slow pace inside of you.

“Then it is only my luck that the only woman I want is one of them,” He moves forward, tongue dragging along the curve of your chin. “You taste sinful, Rose. Hell,” he groans, feeling you tighten against his, now, two fingers inside of you. “I would like to prolong this, but the others are due to bathe soon. I want you so badly, my Rose. Will you let me take care of you?”

“Take me however you please,” you groan, his thumb pressing against your clit. He pulls out just as you almost fall over the edge, pulling off his shirt. Marks decorate his skin, words in languages you cannot comprehend. You see the ship’s flag just beneath his left pec, distracted when you feel his cock rub against your leg.

“Will you like me inside of you, or will you like to become undone by my fingers alone?” He rubs himself against your thigh, the head of him lightly brushing against you. You shiver each time it touches. “I do not mean to rush Rose, but it only a matter of moments before one of the others enters.”

“I want you inside of me, I want to feel you inside of me,” you say, breathless. He lines himself up against you, slowly pressing into you. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, head thrown back as you feel every curve of him inside of you, every vein, every throb. Though you admire his restraint, there is no time to be a gentleman. “San, please,” you beg. “Faster, Sannie.”

“As requested,” Sounds of pleasure escape you as he moves in and out, the wet sounds of your arousal echoing around the room. He sucks your skin, pace quick and deep. He bites your skin softly, hand squeezing your neck as he slams you.

“Mine, all mine,” he murmurs. He keeps your gaze, tilting his head as he stares. Sinful in his gaze. “My Rose, tell me where you’d like me to go,” He groans, cock throbbing. “Where?”.

“Inside of me, San.”

“Inside of you?” He repeats, only to confirm your words. “As requested,” he repeats, lips meeting yours. His pace speeds up, erratic in its movements. His lips meet yours, his pace stuttering slightly. His thumb rubs your clit quickly, desperate for you to come. Another deep push inside you and you tremble, your bodies pressed against another’s as you both cum. He sighs into your neck.

-

“Darling,” Mingi towers over you, a crate of vegetables resting just behind you. You stare up at him in a pout, eyes narrowed. His eyes flick to your lips, only making your mock anger increase. Though Seonghwa said you could help with cargo movement, he only meant small bags now and then, which rarely, if ever, appeared in the storage room on the ship. It was a pity duty, if anything else. So you’ve taken to yourself to start and move the barrels. Having Mingi spot you while you were in the process of doing so was not exactly on your list.

“It’s best if you rest. It’d be a tragedy if you wounded yourself.”

“I am a woman, my love. Not a child. I can tow a few wooden crates across the dock.”

After your confession to Jongho, the others knew of your care for them promptly. You’ve never blamed Jongho because you did not tell him to keep it to himself, but it did shift the relationships between everyone and yourself. Though you have not told them all to their faces that you were in love with them, they knew. Especially Mingi. He has rarely, if ever, left your side once he knew. Right when you woke up the next morning after the night with Jongho, he told you he loved you. It made you laugh at the time at the ease with which he said it, but it comforted you. And now, you’re stuck with him following your every move.

“You can,” he agrees. “But you know why you mustn’t. Someone may spot you—”

And that. The fear of your former lady finding you again. “We are so far from my home—”

“It’s still a possibility,” He steps forward, holding your face in his hands. Your cheeks are crushed as you glower up at him, groaning in aggravation as he presses a chaste peck to your lips. “I want you safe, you know that right?”

“I do. But using the defense of not wanting me to be hurt is such a man thing to utter. You know that I can handle myself on my own,” You press a finger into his chest for emphasis. He nods, your eyes only narrowing further. “Are you patronizing me?”

“I love you.”

“That does not answer the question, smelly man.”

His laugh is boisterous, shaking his frame as he presses you deeper into his chest. You cannot be upset with him long, the large frame of his holding anything but meanness. Which only makes you angry that it’s difficult to be angry with him. You sigh low, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“I’d never do such a thing, darling.”

“Wonderful. Now let me go. I may suffocate before we make it to my destination if you hold me any longer.”

His hold tightens, “Not until you say you love me back.”

“Mingi!” You try to wrestle out of his grip, but he doesn’t dare to let go. You laugh, shifting your face up to look at his. Chin resting against his chest, your gazes meeting each other’s. “You’re such an asshole.”

He gasps, eyes widening. “A lady shouldn’t say such vulgar words, you know. And that isn’t going to make me let go.”

“I love you, Song Mingi,” you say simply, pinching his side. “Now unhand me you big stinky man!”

A knock makes you want to turn and see, but Mingi only shifts his head, trapping you within his hold. You whine but he ignores, a wide grin on his cheeks.

“Hyung, she was just confessing her undying love for me. You’ve interrupted,” he says, pout on his lips. There’s few that he calls the title but you still cannot tell who it is.

“Remove her from your hold, I’d rather see her in one piece.” Ah, Seonghwa. You pinch Mingi’s bicep, hard, and he yells, letting you go. You move around him to face Seonghwa, groaning when the smelly man wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. It is an awkward angle, but you do not protest, letting him continue. “We are to have dinner tonight in the captain’s quarters. He requests that we all dress well since it will be the first time since Rose told us that she would be joining the crew and he would like to celebrate.”

Mingi notices how your body tenses within his hold, his thumb rubbing against your arm as you take in the information. After your confession, you’ve rarely seen Hongjoong. Not his fault of his own, no. You were the one that avidly avoided his every move. You have not entered the dining hall since everyone found out about how you felt. Admitting to the captain that you're promise to never fall for him filled terribly is not something you're looking forward to. Especially the snide remarks he's very likely to make.

"Is it mandatory?"

"It is a celebration of you, Rose. Of course the main reason for us gathering needs to be there," he says simply, noticing the drop of your expression. "It will not be all night, so you needn't worry about that."

"I would love to celebrate with you all, truly. It is just difficult for me to do so, don't you understand?" You hope for some sympathy. Perhaps enough to stop the dinner entirely. You cannot defy the captain's orders on your own. But if Seonghwa suggested it, it might change. Hongjoong has a soft spot for the Quartermaster.

Seonghwa nods, "I do. And I hope you understand my next words when I say that I've advocated for it not to happen because of your dislike of events as such. But the captain did not budge this time, Rose. My deepest apologies for not being convincing enough."

"It is not your fault, Hwa. I thank you for the attempt," you rest your hand upon Mingi's arm that's still wrapped around you. "I will be ready by then."

He gives you a small smile, nodding. You notice how his eyes linger on Mingi's arms around you, before disappearing up the steps. You sigh softly, leaning back into Mingi's chest.

"Am I being too harsh to the captain?" You ask him, voice barely above a whisper. "Are the steps I've taken too far?"

"Everyone has their own comfort levels, darling. Yours are not wrong."

"You did not answer my question." You point out.

"It's more complicated than just a simple answer, Rose. We all know of your disdain towards him. And we all know why it has grown. But we also know that the captain is trying his best to make you feel comfortable in his presence. Perhaps giving him a chance will do wonders."

You let out a low sigh, "I cannot speak to you when I'm in distress. Your answers are too well crafted for me to deny."

"So it means you will go without complaints, then?"

"Oh, I will never stop my complaining. But I will attend. Reluctantly," you add, turning around in his arms to meet his gaze. "Now where were we?"

"I'm not allowing you to lift them no matter how many words you try to entrap me with!"

"You are such a menace!"

-

Your hand brushes the metal knob. It’s quieter now without the backdrop of several other crew members aboard the ship, the loud laughter silenced as you swing open the door and duck through the entrance. Everyone else is already seated, chatter amongst them as you make your way down the steps. You’re thankful for the obvious space they give you, not meeting your eyes until you take the open seat at the table. Unfortunately for you, though, the only one left is at the head of the table, the opposing side occupied by the captain. You almost begin to complain at the notion, but you stop yourself. This is the one night you should be cordial with him. It would be rude of you to start out with anger already. So you take the seat.

On your left sits Seonghwa to your mild surprise. You very much expected him to take the seat near his captain. Continuing down the line is Yeosang, Mingi, then Wooyoung. On your right sits Yunho, San, Jongho, and your brother, Subin. Just as you sit down Seonghwa leans closer to you, voice hushed as he speaks his next words.

“You were not long, no need to worry,” he assures you without you needing to ask. “In fact, I am sure that we all were early to arrive.”

“Moreso Seonghwa and Wooyoung,” Yunho adds in, taking a sip of his water. “Once they heard about the gathering they both made it an hour before. Though I can give a bit of leeway to Wooyoung since he is our cook, there’s no reason for the Quartermaster to arrive as early as he did.”

Seonghwa frowns, “I was inspecting the perishables.”

  “Inspecting it while sitting in that same spot for over an hour?” Yunho smirks, only causing San to chuckle next to him. You match his grin, resting your chin on your folded hands as he begins to explain himself. A tap on the table ceases the conversation immediately, Hongjoong standing at the helm.

“We are here to celebrate, not tease,” he says, shaking his head at Yunho. The man smiles but says nothing in response, bowing to his captain. “Our Rose has finally decided to join our crew, to embrace our family as her own. We all thank you for this, and hope that you can enjoy your time with us on our ship. I will protect you with my life, as will the rest of the men at this table.”

Your brother is the first to stand, holding out his beer bottle to you. Hongjoong wraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer as they both salute to you. The others all stand as well, glasses raised. You slide from beneath the table, curtsying at their motion.

“I thank you all as well for taking me in as your own without question. Here I have found a member of my family that I mourned for years, and I have also found companionship within these wooden walls and on the vast, open sea. Though there are many decisions that will be made against my own beliefs, I do think of you as my home. I hope none of you doubt that,” you meet each of their gazes, briefly lingering on Hongjoong’s. The smirk that you expected rests on his lips. You notice the grip that his hand has on your brother, brows furrowing once you see an odd bandage on his neck.

Their sudden cheering distracts you from it, their glee making yours rise. They all sit back down, the quiet immediately filled with chatter as they all begin to laugh and eat. Your eyes flick down to the plate in front of you – bloody meat, seared on either side. You swallow slowly, pushing it away as you eat the potatoes in another bowl. You can’t quite figure out what’s happening, but something is off. Your gaze moves to the wine cup in Hongjoong’s hand, the familiar blood swirling inside of it. But once you move down the table, you see everyone with it in their hand except for Yeosang, drinking it with ease. There’s still several days left. There is no way–

“Are you alright?”

Seonghwa looks at you, pink lips stained bloody red. The metallic smell hits your nose, your stomach groaning, mouth running dry. Your eyes move to your brother, the sounds muting themselves once you see his fingers wrapped around the glass, taking a long drink. He almost holds it desperately, tongue dragging along to rim to take in every drop.

Hongjoong never mentioned Subin, he never said –

“Rose?” Yunho touches your hand. You pull back immediately, frightened at the touch. It is not like you have not ever let him touch you, you’ve spent several nights next to him as you slept. But he’s always been warm. Why is he now so terribly cold? “Talk to me.”

You stand, the drag of your chair against the floor disrupting conversations. Your hands shake, moist with sweat as you move away from them all. Your brother is the first to get to you, hands raised as you shrink away from him. Blood stains his shirt, splatters across the cotton as he moves closer. How could you not have noticed it before? Were you so stuck in your own head you forgot what's happening right in front of you?

“Breathe, Rosie. It’s okay–“

You shake your head, words lost as you open and close your mouth. His hand touches yours. Cold.

“What did you do?” You ask him, blinking slowly as you meet his eyes. The brown is lighter now, crimson as he stares at you. You hold back your scream, body shaking. He’s your brother, he’s alive. He would not make this choice just after finding you. He wouldn’t. Subin wouldn’t.

“It was for me, Rose. He asked and I just couldn’t say no–"

You close your eyes, sucking in your lips. Think, think. Say something.

“How?”

“Rosie–"

“How did you turn into something like him?” Your voice is stern now, angry. “What did you have to do?”

His expression breaks down as you glare at him. Keeping one hand raised, he slides the bandage down, revealing a stab wound just beneath the curve of his chin. You gasp, hands flying to your mouth as you stare at it. It’s the same spot that Hongjoong showed you when he ‘injured’ himself. His fingers brush against it. You expect him to at least hiss at the pain, but his teeth shine at you as he grins.

He’s grinning.

“It only hurt for a moment, but when I came to I was alive again. I have never felt more alive in my whole life.”

Dead. He had to die to become like Hongjoong. Your eyes move to the rest of the men in the room, worries etched in their faces. The only man who matches your expression is Yeosang, the only clear face through the cloud. You do not get the chance to dwell though, Hongjoong clearing his throat.

“I thought it would be a good time to show you what it means to be like me. They will not be warm like I due to the curse that was bestowed upon me. They will remain cold for the years they live,” He gestures to the rest of the men around the room, “Only a few have not been turned yet, but if you saw the process you might think differently. Mingi insisted that he would be the first to show you.”

He’s of no sound mind if he believes you’d like to see them die one by one. Seonghwa notices how tense you are, how close you are to falling apart, and turns back to Hongjoong. “Captain, this may not be a good time to start this–"

“Nonsense. If she is to live as part of the crew, she must witness this with her own eyes. Mingi, come,” Hongjoong waves him closer. Mingi looks between you and him, giving you a quick smile before moving closer to him.

“No!” You yell, pushing Subin out of the way. Seonghwa holds you against him just as Mingi places his head against the table. The others look on, Yeosang’s eyes away from the scene as Hongjoong lifts the knife. Just before he pushes it into his neck, Seonghwa covers your eyes, the sound echoing in your ears. Mingi cries out, the thumping of his limbs against the wood filling your ears. You try to pry Seonghwa’s hands from your face but he doesn’t move, even as your nails dig into his skin. Your tears paint his palm as you sob, falling to the ground. Though you cannot see anything, the picture in your head is gruesome enough, the sound of him dying almost too much to bear.

“It’ll be okay,” Seonghwa whispers to you softly, pulling you closer to his body. You notice how warm he is compared to Yunho, Subin. He has not turned yet. You dip your head into his chest, throat aching from the screams you let out. “He’ll be fine, Rose. Trust me.”

“You did not let her see the main event,” Hongjoong sighs. “That is what she came here for.”

“Seeing someone die is not a special occasion,” Seonghwa says, sharp in his tone. “Have you forgotten what she has gone through?”

“Are you questioning my choices, Park?” Hongjoong hisses back. You cannot see him, but you hear the familiar steps of Hongjoong as he moves closer to you. “Answer me.”

You look up from his chest to his face, seeing the anger in his brows, the turn of his lips. He looks down at you, his expression softening. “I am not, Captain. I follow your lead, as always, without question. My apologies, seeing Rose distraught hurt me.”

“Mingi will be up soon,” Hongjoong says just behind you. “I’ll have him visit you Rose so that you can see he is well. Seonghwa, you can take her back to her room. We will continue your ceremony once she is well enough on her own.”

Seonghwa nods, lifting you with ease off the floor. Your eyes move down to the wood, the glistening of a slow blood trail just near you. He holds you close as the two of you leave the room, ducking his head and shutting the door behind him.

He does not try to start conversation, holding you close as he leads you back to your room. Though, instead of walking down the steps to yours, he goes to the opposite side of the ship, opening a hatch and making his way down to his own room. You’ve never stepped foot on this side out of politeness, knowing that he rested here alone. You blink slowly as he places you on his bed. He shifts through the dark, reaching for a match and striking it against the sandpaper, holding it close as he lights the lanterns in his room. It’s quaint in comparison to many of the men, his belongings neatly placed in their spots, clothing folded and hanged, clean. You’re sure you cannot spot one dirty corner of the room, much cleaner than even yours.

Your head throbs as you rub it, Seonghwa crouching down next to you. A small cup of tea rests between his fingers, blowing on it lightly as he holds it up to your lips. You take a slow sip, hotter than you expected it to be. You thank him as he hands it to you, his body resting against the frame of the bed as he waits for you to finish.

“I did not know he would do that,” Seonghwa starts, a pained expression on his face. “If I knew, I would have objected to your presence immediately. No one should have to witness the death of a loved one when it is not necessary. When I invited you I truly thought it was to welcome you to our crew, nothing nefarious. I know my words are not the most trustworthy because of my relation to our Captain, but I hope you can see them as true. I would never want to hurt you in such a way, Rose,” his voice cracks at the end, eyes watering. “I could not imagine how you would react seeing him like that, so I had to cover your eyes. Something that horrid could not be removed from a memory. Shielding you from that scene is not something I will apologize for.”

The cup rests between your palms, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. “I have always considered myself a brave woman and yet here I am, continuing to cry in front of you. You do not need to apologize to me for something they have planned. I assumed you did not know from your reaction alone.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head. “They hid it because they knew I would rather die than let you be in the room when it happened.” Die, death. It seems that you cannot ever escape it. The screams of Mingi still resonate in your ear, the tightening of your chest almost making you feel faint.

“Can we not speak of your death right now, Seonghwa?” The words are at a whisper as you speak them, gaze glued to the back of his head. “I’ve seen enough of it already to last a lifetime.”

He nods to you, letting the silence fill the air again. You place the cup on the side table, closing your eyes as you rest your head against his pillows. All of them dying lingers on your mind. Especially the way your brother seemed so happy to show you the wound on his neck, telling you that he’s no longer a human. The way he gripped the glass of blood, drinking it with earnestness, letting it drip onto his shirt. Seonghwa is one of the few who decided against it at this moment. But you know he wants it, you know it is probably on his mind right now, just as it is on yours.

“Will he force me to watch you die too?” You ask softly, though you just tossed away the subject.

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

“You would not be in the position to make that decision.”

Seonghwa turns to you, your head tilted in his direction as you meet his eyes. You’ve always loved the way they are so open, full of life. Rarely if ever does he hide his true emotions, and even if he could, you could tell from a look what he truly felt. Like right now.

  “He would not go against my wishes.”

“He knew you would not like for me to see that and yet he did it anyway. He cares about no one’s wishes but his own,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “If that was the case he would not have ever offered this to you.”

“You believe it was his idea?”

“That is what he said, yes.”

Seonghwa’s lips lift, a small smile. “No, my doe. He did not make that decision on his own. Wooyoung was the first to bring it to his attention after a long night. It was before you arrived on the ship. After a night of fighting with another crew, many of us were bruised, bloody, wounds covering our skin. Our captain was the only one who did not suffer like we have. He could only watch us as he assisted with bandaging our wounds. Wooyoung spoke and asked if there was any possibility that we could be like him. At first the captain insisted that there was not, that we would have to live like this. Then he loosened his lips and confessed that it was possible. That night, the majority of us agreed to turn into him. We could change our tune at any time, but none of us have. Including Yeosang,” he adds. “He never wanted it, so none of us pushed him into it. And not too long later you arrived on the ship.”

Why did he lie? Did Hongjoong want you to hate him more, look at him with utter disdain? But why? Was it not his end goal to make you love him? And he has achieved it, somewhat. Though he seems keen on destroying your care for him entirely.

“Do you know why he was cursed?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifts, darkens. “He was never willing to give us a reason.”

“And you are not the least bit curious?”

“I was,” he admits, tucking his legs closer to him. “But when you’ve lived with someone longer than you’ve lived without them, you learn. Whatever it may be that he has done, he has suffered for it. I think it unnecessary that I pry into his past to find out what it was.”

You adore Seonghwa with every bone in your body, but this is one thing you cannot agree on. Being cursed with something of this nature and not giving it a second though is obscene. Trying to pry out any more information from his mind will only make him close himself off more. All you can do is watch as each of them turn into something unimaginable. You wish that your brother was nowhere near it, but it is done. Now you must find a way to bring him back.

“Forcing your own beliefs on people who want this is not a wise choice,” Seonghwa says. You have not noticed, but he’s turned to look at you. “He will push you away.”

“He’s my brother.”

“One you have never seen, Rose. None of us are who we once were,” Seonghwa sighs. “I am sure he’s unlike the boy he tells you he was. Protecting your family is of utmost importance, that I know from experience, but there are times that we must let go.”

He’s telling you to let your brother live a life of drinking human blood? The way he speaks of it is so odd, strange. The more you look at Seonghwa, the more you feel as if he’s changed since you’ve met him. You nod, moving your legs to the side of the bed to stand. Your body is still a bit unstable, shaky, but you would rather be in your own quarters than in his. He stands, placing his hand on the edge of the bed.

“You can stay here for the night, I will not dare disturb you.”

“I would prefer being on my own.” You slowly stand, his eyes widening.

"No one will come for you here."

"I would rather not overstay my welcome."

“Rose, please,” his voice is desperate now, holding your arm as you move. You narrow your eyes at his change in tone. “It is for the best, that I promise you.”

“Why will you not let me go?”

“I…” he sucks in a breath, glancing at the door to his room. “I cannot say, but it is best if you stay here. If you have not listened to any of my words, please listen to this. It is in your best interest if you do so.”

“Answer the question, Seonghwa.”

He sighs deeply, running his fingers through his hair. The way his hand trembles, the panicked look in his eyes. He knows something that you do not. What is awaiting you in your room? And why is he not saying so? You did find it strange that he carried you here, with explicit instruction from the captain to place you in your room.

“If I say what will happen, there will be consequences. All I can say is that he instructed me to take you to your room, Rose. And without thinking, I took you to mine. No one else but Hongjoong is allowed in here, and he will be preoccupied with the others tonight. Do you understand what I am saying to you? Please rest here, I will make sure you will be alright if you just stay.”

"... Alright. I will not leave."

"Do you promise this?" He says, eyes flicking between yours. "Promise me Rose. Promise you will not leave this room until daybreak."

"I will not leave, Seonghwa. I promise you."

The stress from before slides from his gaze, tension loosened. He lets out a small breath, nodding slowly. "And I will follow my own promise and leave you be. Not fully, I'll stay outside my room after I'm done."

This is not the right moment to do it, but you reach out, letting your hand cup his cheek. You try to memorize the warmth beneath your fingertips, hoping that he changes his mind in the next few minutes. He leans into your touch, lids fluttering as he covers your hand with his. He presses a chaste kiss into your palm, eyes steady on yours.

"Love does not change in an instant, my doe. I will still be the same man."

You will not.

"We can love each other as before."

You cannot.

You place your other hand on the side of his face, holding his head between your fingers. Your eyes watch as his cheeks flush beneath. If there were a way to capture this moment forever you would do it without hesitation. To see him like this again. You hold back your tears, biting your lip.

"I've always admired your eyes, Hwa," you say, lip trembling. "They are so full of life, expressive. Round. Though I do not believe in love at first sight, I do know that once you laid your gaze upon mine, I could never look away."

Seonghwa begins to shake his head, but you hold him steady. "Even now knowing it will not be the same. Please look upon me one more time so that I can keep that moment in my head for years to come."

"You will never lose me."

You can barely make out his words, his fingers digging into yours, light sobs falling from his lips. You hold in yours, letting your forehead rest against his. It feels as if you're mourning him when he is right in front of you. The fleeting wish of knowing him sooner so that you may have spent time with him as he is now crosses your mind. And with horror, the small thought of you living as them so you can know them longer lingers.

"I love you ever so much, Seonghwa," you say. "And I will not make you listen to what I want. If this will make you happy, then I will accept your decision."

-

Seonghwa locked the door behind him. You hold your legs close, the sound of Mingi dying echoing in your mind over and over. The blood splattering against the floor, trickling down the wood, almost touching your shoes. Sleeping through the horror in your mind is unlikely. In times like this you would stand on the deck, stare at the stars. But now, you fear, if you leave this room something may happen to you. The only person you are afraid of is Hongjoong, but with the panic in Seonghwa's eyes maybe you were too innocent to believe no one else could cause harm.

The captain said that Mingi would visit your quarters. Would they start a search once they see that you're not there? Seonghwa would have told you by now, no? You trust him. He would do everything in your best interest. And your brother. You should speak to him, somehow figure out how to handle this. How to make things right again.

A light knock on the door makes you freeze, eyes on the knob. It does not move, whomever it is, thankfully, not opening the door entirely. Or forcing it open.

“Seonghwa told me you were here after much persistence on my part,” his voice seeps through the cracks in the wood. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him speak though he never went on tangents often. “I know I’m not allowed inside, so I wanted to speak to you through it, if I may.”

“I’d never reject your presence, Yeosang. You should know that well,” your voice feels smaller, unsure. “Have you…”

“No,” he says quickly. You hear him slide down the door, a sigh leaving his lips as he rests his head against the wood. “Nothing will convince me otherwise, Rose. Please trust me when I say I’d rather die untimely than become something like them.”

“Have they all turned now?” You ask.

There’s hesitance in his voice. “No. Not when I left, no. Seonghwa is the last. He left for the captain’s quarters. I do not believe you will be seeing him again tonight. He will be preoccupied for the remainder. Apologies for not being who you expected to hear from tonight.”

He needn’t apologize. You are thankful that it is him resting outside your room and not anyone else. Even your brother, who you worry for, you cannot see just yet. Your emotions still have not settled, the grip on your necklace only tightening as you think back to tonight. The sound of Mingi’s flesh being pierced ringing in your head over and over. You are not sure it will ever stop. Yeosang does not say anymore. As always, a man of few words.

“Will you be okay, Yeosang?”

“Hm?” He hums.

“Your family, they’ve all turned. You will be alone.”

There’s silence. You play with your necklace, your nerves taking over. Have you said too much? Why does this man make you so nervous? Your breath hitches, chest pounding.

“I have always been alone, Rose. Losing another family of mine is nothing new. But I will not leave them,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve lived with them for so long on this ship I know nothing else. I have promised to stay by their side no matter what decision they’ve made. They are my home. And this may be selfish to say,” you hear him shuffle again. “But I had hoped that one day you may think of us as your home too.”

You do.

You did.

“I care for you all, Yeosang,” you say simply.

“But not enough to live with us like this? You have officially joined us not too long ago, and you are deciding to leave? Do you fear them that much?”

“It is more complicated than just a fear,” you swallow. “I cannot get the thought of my parents’ bodies, swallowed in a pile of their own blood out of my head. I do not want to witness anything like that again. It was silly of me to even accept a position on this ship knowing what pirates do. And it was even more silly of me to fall in love with all of you in my own separate, intricate ways. I should have stopped that night we were together. I should have pulled away.”

“Do you regret it? Us being together?”

His lips trail along your neck, crescents embedded in your skin as he pushes deeper into you.

You flush at the memory, mouth dry. “I will not, as long as I live.”

“I will not either, Rose. I think of it everyday, if I am being honest.” His body moves closer to the door, your eyes glancing at the shadow of him just on the opposite side. Seonghwa told you explicitly that no one else is allowed in his room except Hongjoong. But the thought of opening it just so that Yeosang can clouds your mind entirely. “Your body underneath mine, the way you tightened against me as I moved deeper inside of you.”

Your chest rises and falls quickly, swallowing the saliva that pools in your mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to do that again? And again, and again.”

“Yeosang,” a heavy breath leaves your lips, wetting them with a flick of your tongue. “We cannot do that tonight. Seonghwa, and the others–”

“They would not mind, pretty,” his voice switches, a higher pitch falling from it. His nails scratch against the wood, breaking it beneath his fingertips. “My pretty peach.”

This is not Yeosang.

“How the hell did you do that?” You say, moving further up your bed. You look around for anything that may be of use, in case he decides to enter the room. “How could you mimic him?”

“A perk of not being human,” he giggles, a shiver running down your spine. “You would only speak to me if I were your Yeosang, pretty. I needed to change it a bit so that you’d listen.” Though you cannot see him, you can picture the pout on his lips, the mischievous glint to his eyes. “I can make you feel good again if you let me in.”

“The Wooyoung I know is afraid to even touch me, let alone encourage it. What has he done to you? Why are you this way?” And it is true. Wooyoung is shy, nervous. You could barely get him to look you in the eye without the familiar flush on his cheeks. This Wooyoung? His confidence makes your heart skip beats, but he is not Jung Wooyoung. The shy chef that gives you extra portions, the man who makes you flowers out of spare oregano he discovers in the kitchen, the man who you love dearly. “When did he turn you?”

“Moment’s ago,” he says. “And I am the same, Rose. I only am more confident in my words. I let my thoughts out of this head of mine now. Do you not like that more? Does that not satisfy you?”

“A change was not needed in the first place–”

His fist bangs against the wood, breaking through the door. You scream, gripping the candle holder in your hands. He stills, fist still in the hole. You can see half his face, lips open in shock. He opens, then closes them, pulling his hand away from the hole. Though it is dark, you can see a bit of the way his body shakes, quickly standing to his feet.

“I did not… Rose, I do not know of my strength. I–” His voice wavers. “I am sorry. I’ll leave you. Please do not be afraid, okay? I will not bother you anymore tonight. I promise that.” He disappears after that, your hands tight around the holder as you stare at the hole. The last sentences he spoke reminded you of your Wooyoung, but the fear that he can just… easily, break through wood, only solidifies your fears. He could have broken down the door if he wanted.

You must leave.

-

It is probably too early in the morning when you wake, still gripping the candle holder. You wipe your face with the small bowl of water Seonghwa left on the side table, standing. You look through the small window, the moon still high in the sky. You look through his room, grabbing a small knife and tucking it in the strap wrapped around your thigh. Just as you move to the door, you stop, thinking.

Seonghwa warned you about leaving his room, in fear of what would happen if you went back to your room. You trust him. But there is a part of you that wonders the full truth to his words. What if he wanted you to stay, so that he would come back for you? Is it too far-fetched to believe that he would turn you once he arrived back in his quarters? Hours ago there would have been a definitive answer, but now you are not so sure. Especially with the way Woo smashed into the door. Your eyes flick to the hole, finally swinging the door open.

The dark is quiet as you make your way up the steps. There are small boats you can take, push it off the side and be on your way. You would need a map depending on how far you are from land, but you can recall Jongho saying it is just a day and a half away. Is that enough? Will a small boat be able to take you to shore? Or are you confided to this ship, stuck with a group of men, thirsty for your blood?

You hold the lantern close.

“Discouraging yourself is not something you often do, Rose,” you murmur.

The breeze stings your cheeks harshly, the wind tasting of salt as you climb up the steps. You stomp loudly on the last step, letting out a brief breath from tiredness and glancing to the side. It’s quite dark, the skies clouded. You dig into the pocket of your vest, a small blade resting between your fingers. It’s warm from your skin, shining from the lanterns that line the bow.

“We told you to rest,” A voice next to you says.

You turn to him, your gaze shifting upwards to meet his eyes. Despite how daring Yunho’s look is, the scarlet shocks you momentarily. You don’t let it show in your gaze though, expression cool. It is still Yunho, you ponder. Even if he has changed. So, you reach up to trace his chin, pulling back promptly when you feel how frigid it is. He furrows his brows at that, taking a step forward. Without pause you take one back, holding a hand up so that he does not follow.

“Are you well, Rose?”

“It is I who should inquire about that,” you say, swallowing deeply. “Is this choice of yours irreparable? Are you unable to be as you once were?” Forward enough in your words, you hope that there is something you can do to help him. Help them all. He is your Yunho, the man you love. Or, the man you once loved.

"Why?

The question is simple. How a one-word answer can hold so much is beyond you. But you can only stare up at him. The feeling of love is oddly mixed with fear, hurt.

Disgust.

"You're not you any longer," you say, voice hushed. As if you were keeping it away from the others. Just between the two of you. Yunho's expression drops as your words settle, flicking between your eyes. You don't dare catch his gaze, knowing that it will only hurt more. "I cannot love you when you are not even alive."

"Look at me."

"No."

"Rose, please look at me."

"Your eyes are not the same. I can only look at you with terror, Jeong Yunho. And I fear that is the only emotion I will feel until you are well again."

"Rose," His scoff is a bit amused at your wording. You take a sneaking glance at him, watching as he runs his fingers through his locks. They seem shiner, neater in appearance. Too perfect, you think. You look down just as he looks back at you. "I am well. I won't ever feel better than I do at this very moment. Will you never accept me as I am? Will you never accept the rest of us?"

You know your answer. You know how it will hurt him so, the words that you're about to say. But it will only wound him more if you do not meet his gaze while uttering the confession. So your eyes flick to his, wavering at the color staring back at you.

"I cannot love people who are dead, Yunho. I will mourn you. Mourn who you once were. But I will not stay on this ship longer than I must. The next stop will be my last."

"You don't mean that."

You nod solemnly. "A lie has never fallen from these lips."

"You might change your mind. I am sure that you will," His voice is persistent, desperately trying to peel your resolve. "Being together forever can change your mind, you can join us. The others wouldn't hate the thought either. Please think it over."

"Everyone I love is dead, Yunho. And I am not ready to join them in their fate," You're lumping them with your family, all who've perished terrible ends. Except your brother, with whom you hope can come with you once you arrive at the next port. "And I did not come out here to debate you. I am walking to take a breath, without onlookers." And in hopes to find some supplies you may leave with.

His fist relaxes as he takes a breath. It's not what he wanted to hear, that you know, but he doesn't try to dig any further. Instead he nods, stepping away from you. You sigh in relief, the beating of your heart slowing down. The admittance of being afraid of him would never be said. But from his fallen expression, sad eyes, you might not even need to say the words. He knows already. It hurts to see how much it affects him, knowing that you'd never touch one of them again. But it is for the better.

Since they will be dead by your blade soon if you cannot find a solution.

He disappears down the ship, the lantern fading into the dark. You watch his back. Once it disappears, your steps quicken, grabbing an emergency satchel that rests next to the stairs. You look through, frowning as you note the supplies. There is possibly a week’s worth of food in it, maybe more if you rationed, but not enough that you’re confident you will survive more than two weeks out at sea. Walking through the food area and into the kitchen is a risk, especially when you are not sure where everyone is on the ship. Your room is out of the question, Mingi perhaps lingering inside of it, waiting to see you.

The reward outweighs the risk, so you throw the satchel over your shoulder, quickly making your way across the deck. You descend down the steps, not bothering to glance at the quarters to your right. You push the door open, glancing inside of the dining room. It’s quiet. Even the table that you sat at, where Mingi died, is clean, free of the evidence of just hours prior. Lingering around is not the best idea, so you quickly walk through, pushing the door open to the kitchen.

You almost drop your satchel at the sight.

Hongjoong grips Seonghwa’s hips, pressed against him as Seonghwa sits on the counter. The view is erotic in itself, Seonghwa’s head thrown back as Hongjoong’s lips are pressed against it, hips joined together as Hongjoong’s fingers dig into them. Seonghwa’s corset loosened, a moan falling from his lips when Hongjoong pulls him closer. His eyes slowly open, head turned to your direction. They widen immediately upon seeing you standing there, hand touching the back of Hongjoong’s head, tugging. Hongjoong lifts his lips from his neck, a trail of saliva and blood dripping from his lips. His head turns, but before he meets your eyes you twist on your heel and run, throwing your body against the swinging doors. Realizations ring in your head, consuming your thoughts.

Hongjoong was feeding on Seonghwa. How long has this been happening? Seonghwa’s eyes aren’t red, so he’s not turned yet, but was he going to be at that very moment? You have never sensed anything romantic between the two, but was that just your mind too involved with everyone else to see?

None of these questions matter in the long run. What they do in their spare time is none of your concern. You could not grab extra food, so you must deal with what you have. Just as you go to open the dining hall door, a hand slams against it, stopping you. You can recognize his hand quickly, nails painted with blood, rings adorning his fingers. You do not turn around to face him.

“This moment would have been avoided if you would have resided in Seonghwa’s room, my Rose,” Hongjoong’s voice is low, near your ear. You can feel how close he is, barely an inch apart from your body. “What will I do with you now?”

“Please,” you say softly, fear coursing through you. “I will leave, and I will not tell anyone what happened on this ship. I will remain silent until the end of my days, captain.”

He laughs, “The end of your days? My Rose, my pretty Rose, the end of your days will end when this Earth no longer turns. That is quite a long time, you know. Even I would not suggest a promise like that.”

You do not respond.

“Now you will not speak to me, Rose? Will I have to force that pretty voice to speak?”

“What would you like me to say, Hongjoong? Beg for my life? I have told you endlessly that you will never have me. That I will never desire you–”

“Ah, right,” he interrupts. “But you do desire me, Rose. Did you think that I did not know of your love for me, for us all? Denying yourself the pleasure of being mine will only hurt you in the end. Here you are, begging for me to let you go. I thought you said you would never beg me?”

Anger courses through your body, stopping immediately once you feel his fingers brush against your neck. You turn around quickly, stumbling when you see his eyes. His free hand catches you with ease, holding you close. His eyes are completely white, a devilish grin on his lips as you stare at him. He lets you go, his hand still holding the door closed. You move away from him, glancing at the kitchen door. There is no exit, the only one is where Hongjoong stands. He moves his palm off the door, crossing his arms against his chest, head tilted as he stares at you. His shirt is still unkempt, torso exposed to you. You hate that your mind lingers on the image too long. He seems to know as well, his grin only widening.

“What will I do with you, my Rose?” he frowns.

“Let me go.”

His brows furrow. “Let you go? You’ve chosen to stay here with us. Your family. You made that decision on your own.”

“I will be delighted to leave your presence, Hongjoong. In fact, in a few days time, I will be gone. And we will never have to see each other again.” And you hope for that to be true. Even standing here now, your feelings are confusing. Your desire and care for him swirling into your fear of him. How could you possibly fear someone you love? Distance is what you want, need. Staying here any longer will just make it worse.

Hongjoong rests his body against the wood of the ship. “Will you? But your eyes have been cast elsewhere. Seonghwa has taken your fancy instead of I. How could you leave any of them behind?”

“Has he? Because I do recall a good night’s toss in the quarters of Wooyoung. Or was it Yeosang? Jongho? I cannot keep count,” you quirk your brow, fingers brushing against the familiar necklace. His eyes follow your movements, tongue moistening his lips. “Me agreeing to be aboard this ship was never a promise that I will lay with one man. And why would I, when there is an endless supply?”

“You treat us like goods?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you move closer, hand resting a breath away from his. It is a calculated risk you're taking, standing near him so close. But for the chance to leave him, moving closer to the door, you have to. “I treat you like treasure.”

His eyes widen, brown eyes slowly appearing once more. His hand reaches up, pressing your palm against his chest. You feel how warm he is, how human he feels. His eyes meet yours, curious. There are these brief moments you have with Hongjoong, the moments you believe that he is not as bad as he makes himself out to be. That deep, beneath the centuries of feeding on humans, being cursed to live this long life, deep within there is still the human Hongjoong. And in these brief moments, it utterly terrifies you. The slips make you see him, and make you fall deeper into his hands.

“Is it as hard as you make it to be to love me,” his eyes widen, lids heavy as his gaze moves to your lips. “Will it be so difficult to yearn for me as I do for you?”

“No,” you whisper. “And that is why I cannot.”

“Will you continue to pretend there is nothing? Will you push me away further and further, until the end of time?” he asks, his other hand tilting your chin up, your gaze meeting his. “Do you not see? I will fight anything, anyone for you to look at me as you look at the others. For you to give me that sweet smile of yours. Darling, what will I do?” his head tilts closer to you, eyes stuck on your lips.

Your resolve is breaking. You can feel the pumping of his heart beneath your hand.

“I love you,” he says. “Love me.”

“Captain–”

“Love me,” he insists. He moves his hand from yours, taking steps forward. Your back is pressed against the wall, his hands cupping your face. Want lingers on his face, dripping from his gaze. “The enormity of my desire cannot only consume me. There must be some semblance of it in you if you have yet to pull away from me. Tell me, Rose. Tell me.”

“I cannot–”

“You cannot? Or you will not? Is it not there?”

“Captain–”

“Do not call me such a name when I am holding you like this,” he insists. “Tell me you love me, Rose. Let me hear it from your lips, not another’s. Let me in,” he whispers. “Let yourself be completely unraveled with me. Let it consume you, let it drown you so that I may be the one to help you breathe.”

No. You hate how your legs quiver underneath his heated gaze. You pull your hand off of him. The need for escaping is diminished into nothing, your satchel somewhere across the room. You are not even sure when it left your hold, too distracted with the man in front of you. Saying the word, saying it to him. That will be the end of your lying, of you pushing him away. So why are you so willing to do it?

“Rose–”

“I love you,” you say softly. His eyes glaze over, hands dropping from your chin. “I love you to the point of devastation, of fear. I love you so much that it hurts. I love you so much, that I will leave you.”

His eyes widen.

“Do you hear me, captain? I love you, but I will not let it consume me, I will not allow your sweet words to coerce me into staying here with you until the end of time,” you glance to the side, seeing the kitchen door swing open. Seonghwa stumbles out, a bandage wrapped around his neck. It pulls you back to reality. You were going to let him take over you, let him turn you into one of them. “I will be leaving. And I will find a way to save the others.”

Hongjoong is pulled out of his trance, a scowl forming on his lips. "They would have been nothing without me. Without my assistance, without my guidance."

It should not shock you the way it does, how he speaks of them. You look at Seonghwa, his gaze glued to the floor. "They're your family."

His eyes narrow, a sly smile growing on his lips. He takes a step forward just as you take one back, shrugging. Your fingers grip the silver in your hands, ignoring how the blade digs into your palm. "That is true. I was alone and wanted a family so I created my own. But that does not mean that they're entitled to everything that I enjoy. Did you truly believe that they would be with you if I did not permit it? I chose to let them indulge in you. To please you. But in the end, their needs do not matter, Rose. Because you are mine. No one else's."

"The time on sea has deluded your mind, captain. Perhaps a rest will lessen your worries. There's no need for this speech. I'm safe in their hands." Your voice trembles, revealing your true feelings. He picks up on it, leaning against the table nailed into the floor.

"You are afraid of me?" His smile drops, sympathy in his gaze. It's quite eerie how easily his emotions change. "I do not want my Rose to be afraid."

"You are not well–"

"Continue to tell that lie to yourself," His head tilts, meeting the gaze of something behind you. A hand covers yours, your head whipping to meet the new visitor. Subin looks over you, eyes focused on Hongjoong. "Your brother is soon to leave, anyway."

“He is not leaving.”

“I did not tell him to leave us, he chose on his own. I am not this manipulator that you make me out to be, Rose. A lot of decisions are made without my involvement. But I will leave you to your brother, we have much to talk about with the others,” Hongjoong tilts his head slightly, brushing past your brother. His eyes flick to Seonghwa and he immediately follows, leaving the two of you alone. Subin’s eyes move to you, sorrow within them.

“You are leaving?” You ask.

“I cannot stay in a place I am not wanted, Rose.”

“But you’ve been here for years, much longer than the few months that I have. How is it that when I am aboard, suddenly your relationships change? I…” You take a breath, calming yourself. “If my presence on this ship is causing you distress, then I am no longer welcome here. I have planned on leaving, anyway. With you.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No! You can stay, I’ve overstayed my welcome, and this is not your fault, Rose. Please do not place blame on your own shoulders.” He notices the way your body shakes, fingers digging into your dress. He moves closer to you, hands on either side of your face. “I do not want you to leave because you think it is your fault.” His touch is cold, brittle. A switch from when you first learned of his relation to you. “I was never to stay by the captain’s side for long, you’ve known that from the beginning.”

“I cannot leave your side just yet,” you persist. “I know it is selfish, but we’ve just met not too long ago. Before you I thought I was alone in this world. Your presence has made me feel whole again. I will figure out a way to turn you back. I will, Subin. And we can leave this ship together. You do not have to leave me alone here.”

His brows furrow, “Alone? You have your lovers, you will never be alone.”

“They are not my family, my blood, Subin. You are. You’re my brother.”

His head tilts as he stares at you, “The captain cares for you, Rosie. He is your family just as I am. Blood does not matter, that you know first hand.”

Your brows furrow as you stare at him. His eyes are empty as he speaks his words, as if he’s not saying them on his own. “Do you truly believe I will be safe with him, compared to you?”

He nods, a grin immediately plastered against his lips. “Why not? He is the most formidable captain in history. No one will be able to hurt you when you’re on board. But if you decide that this is not for you, I will come back for you. Give him a month’s time, Rosie. Let yourself see that he does not want to do you harm. That he will protect you.”

The man who stands in front of you now is no longer your brother. Your brother would rather die than let you stay upon a ship full of creatures, of men you’ve only known for a short while. Even before he told you who he was you somehow always saw him around the ship when you were alone with one of the guys, keeping an eye on you. The Subin holding your face in his hands is not the Subin you've come to know. There’s nothing else for you to say, so you merely nod. He presses a kiss against your forehead, pulling away.

“It will all be fine,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You watch as the ghost of your brother walks out the dining hall, leaving you alone.

-

In fear of walking into another, you reside in the dining hall for the last few hours until daybreak, slumped over the wooden table. Your thoughts are too consumed to even catch a wink of sleep. What are you to do? Subin will leave on the next stop, and you planned on leaving last night, but things have changed. Could you leave Yeosang behind? Will you leave this found family of yours, trying to run after your old one? The main goal of yours was to find who killed your family, your parents. But now it seems like a lost cause with what is happening in front of you. There’s high doubt that if you told someone what Hongjoong is, they’d believe you. And it is not like you want to do such a thing; in this strange way, you wish him no harm. You love him without even wanting to.

Your lids are heavy once you hear the door open, stomping against the wooden steps. You lift your head, meeting the wary eyes of Jung Wooyoung. Without hesitance you rise to your feet, gripping the satchel. He holds up his hands, eyes moving between yours.

“I’m not going to do anything–"

“Leave me alone,” you move further into the room. He sighs, dropping his hands.

“I suppose this means you will not join us for breakfast.”

“Sarcasm does not suit you, Wooyoung.”

He laughs dryly, pushing his hair away from his face. There’s little evidence of his previous state, nails clean and sharpened, hair free of grease. Even the clothing he wears has no stains on it. Is this what they become? Perfect versions of themselves? It is of no surprise that they desired this then, despite the negatives. He moves closer to the kitchen, nudging his head in the direction. “Want something for the road?”

“I am not hungry.”

The sound of your stomach growling fills the empty room. A toothy grin and minutes of convincing later, you stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching as Wooyoung cooks. You have often flattered the man on his skills, telling him that he should work at the finest restaurants in the city, not stuck feeding a ship full of hungry brigands. He always waved you off whenever you would mention it, assuring you that you’re convinced because you have not had flavorsome food in a while. So watching him work now, his swiftness clearly increased by his new condition, he looks like he relishes it more. Though you do not respond to his statements, he continues to speak on and on about things of frivolous nature. Ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Why would you pretend to be Yeosang?” You ask, watching as he places the food into the bowl. You see the briefest of hesitance as he does so, eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “What did you want to gain out of doing so?”

“Have you not noticed?” His brow raises, “You enjoy his presence much more than anyone else. The two of you compliment one another so well, I thought that you would listen to his words rather than my own. It was an imprudent attempt on my part, knowing that you would know eventually. But speaking to you about profounder topics, listening to your qualms, it is what I always sought after. I am sorry for breaking your confidence, but I do not have remorse for attempting it in the first place.”

“The you only nights ago would have stammered over those words. Now you speak your mind with ease.”

He grins, “Is it not lovely? There’s no fear of rejection, of what you might do when I say what I feel. It is freeing, being able to say each thought.”

Your heart breaks at his words. “I enjoyed you just as you were, Wooyoung. Change was never necessary in my eyes.”

“But it was in mine,” his glee drops, wooden spoon tight in his hold. “I was a shameful man, an even more shameful mate. I could not even stand on my own without the assistance of others. I let my thoughts consume me to the point where I no longer acted on things. That is why I was assigned to the kitchen. The captain knows that I was too inept for any other task. Too frightened to step up. Can you not see how much better it is, standing in front of me? I can tell you anything without that soul-crushing anxiousness looming in the back of my mind. I can speak to you without stuttering, without second-guessing my words. Is that not wonderful? Before I could only let out a sentence, now each of my words has conviction. Weight.”

He moves to step closer to you, but stops once he sees you tense. “I still have not learned my strengths yet, peach. I am terribly sorry for scaring you last night. That is the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I want you to love me, not to be afraid of me. Is there nothing that can make the fear go away?”

There is one thing. The only thing in the world he would not be able to do. He seems to understand that as well, expression dropping.

“I am happy for you, Wooyoung,” you say, taking the bowl off the kitchen slate. “I am happy that you’re more comfortable as you are now. But this feeling inside of me that knows it is wrong will not go away. I am sorry.”

“We are family, Rose,” he whispers, brows furrowed. “Isn’t that supposed to let you accept us as we are, despite our differences now?”

“I am sorry,” you say again, unable to comfort him. You leave the kitchen, satchel strapped to your back as you exit the dining hall. The weather is cooler this morning, bristling against your skin as you walk across the deck. Your eyes meet none as you take the steps down to your room. Just before you enter, your gaze flicks over to your brother’s door. It’s wide open. He never leaves it open. You put your bowl to the side and peek in.

All of his belongings are gone. You enter, eyes scanning each and every surface you can. You open his draws, swing his closet door open. Nothing. It is as if he was never here in the first place. He would not have left without saying goodbye to you. Subin wouldn’t—

You tense. Maybe he would, now. You leave his room, hearing someone else walking down the steps. But you ignore their presence entirely, grabbing your bowl and unlocking your room. You gasp when you see who is inside, bowl falling from your hands. He reaches for it just before it hits the floor, sighing in relief.

Mingi stands, his height looming over yours as he holds out your bowl. For a moment you forget what is happening, why you’re so afraid. Your eyes flick to the bandage covering his neck, coated in day-old blood. Worry crosses your gaze as you take him in, his clothing soaked in red. You move around his outstretched arm, reaching up to hold your hand against his face. And in this moment, you remember.

His hand holds yours against him, a soothing hum escaping him. He is like the others, completely and utterly frigid. You can only look at him in sorrow as he holds your hand tight.

“Have you been here all night?” You ask softly.

He nods, eyes opening to meet yours. You’ve gotten used to the red of them on the others. “I know you were worried, so I came here right after I awoke. Capt’ told me you would be here waiting for me, but you were not. I should not have worried since there are but so many places to go on this ship, but I could not help it. I decided to stay until you came back.”

Perhaps the change affects them all differently. Here you stand in front of Mingi, sure that this is the same man you’ve known. You rest your head against his chest, a sigh escaping you.

“What will I do with you?” you murmur, not at all expecting a response. The exhaustion from barely getting an hour of sleep weighs on you, revelations of what’s happened slowly encasing you. Tonight you’ve drowned in terror, fear of everyone turning. Now you’re just too tired to think it all through. “I’ll speak to you soon, Mingi, alright? I just need some rest.”

“Oh,” he steps back from you, your head lifting to match his gaze. “I’ll be back later tonight, then.”

“Sure,” you give him a strained smile, watching as he walks out the door. He closes it behind him. You lock it in an instant, falling into a heap on your bed. Though there is much to think about, you let your thoughts leave you, slipping into unconsciousness.

-

You’re woken up to the sound of thunder, jolted from your rest. You wipe your eyes glancing at the small gap underneath your door. It’s no longer bright outside, and from the sound of it, it seems as if you’re stuck in a storm. The bowl to the side of you remains uneaten, and you take a bite of it, frowning at the lukewarm temperature. Though his food is always pleasant, it is better to be eaten hot rather than cold. After a few more bites, you let your mind settle, your anxious thoughts coming back tenfold.

Your brother is gone. Only Seonghwa and Yeosang have yet to turn, and you’re not too sure that the eldest is still human as of now. Mingi lurks around the corners waiting to speak to you, and Yunho is… a question in itself. You’re not sure where you stand with him. Wooyoung and San are turned as well, the latter’s whereabouts unknown. You have not seen Jongho either, though your throat tightens at even taking a glimpse of the man. And the captain. The captain that knows you’re in love with him, and might take that to his advantage. You almost slipped into his hold this morning. Being alone with him is the last thing you’d like to do.

What has gotten into you? Has residing on this ship dulled your senses? Being this troubled about men that are no longer men should have stopped everything. Once you’ve seen Hongjoong come back to life, you should have left. You had the opportunity. Why did you not just walk up that mountain and leave Jongho behind? Why are you so entangled in these men’s lives? And even now as you scold yourself, why have you not conjured up a plan to leave?

The questions only scare you. Because despite your intentions, you’re not sure you will ever leave this ship. You’re free of chains and yet you sit here, letting it all happen to you. Leaving your lady and the only home you’ve known to this maze of lies and feelings. You do not reject meeting them. Letting their happiness sink into you. Staying at your master’s home hardened you, but being on a ship with these men has softened your heart. No, you will never regret meeting all of them. You just regret not being able to save them the way they’ve saved you.

A quick change of clothing and you slip from your room. Staying inside all night is pretty ideal. You’re just very sure that one, or more, would knock on your door sooner rather than later. You take the steps up to the deck, the top eerily quiet. Once Hongjoong rid of the crew at the last stop, there’s been little noise around. You see the others often, but not like before. And now with their change, the quiet is unsettling. You should be searching for any trace of your brother, even if you’re sure he’s long gone. A quick peek over the side-railings and you notice that the ship is close to shore. How long did you sleep exactly? Freedom is just a wave away.

Laughter catches your attention, San and Yeosang walking down the deck. A burlap bag is slung over San’s shoulder, Yeosang nudging him as they speak. You cannot hear them over the loud waves crashing against the ship, a chill traveling down your spine at the temperature drop. There’s doubt that they would try steering the ship to shore now, the waves too erratic to navigate.

“Sleep evades you often,” Mingi says, standing just behind you. He apologizes quickly once he realizes that he startled you. “I waited a bit outside your door for an hour but thought against waking you. Everyone has already had dinner. I believe that Wooyoung left your plate just outside your door.”

“I honestly did not even check,” you admit, turning back to him. “I should go back then—”

“No!” His voice is louder now, catching the attention of San and Yeosang. Just as you blink he is gone, reappearing at the top of the steps, plate in hand. He holds it out to you, your eyes flicking over the rain covered food. His widen, a sheepish look crossing his face. “I did not even consider—”

“No need to fret, Mingi,” you wave him off. “I’ve already eaten when I woke. Though it is a waste for me, I am sure the livestock would not mind a bit of rainwater with their food.”

“Even as a jiāngshī, he is still just a clumsy man,” San snickers, resting his hand on Mingi’s shoulder. His gaze moves to you, smile slipping slightly. With Hongjoong, he could feel the change of emotion, the fear as you stood just by him. The drop in his expression only confirms that he feels just like his captain. You swallow, glancing to the side. Yeosang still stands there, a slight nod. You move closer to him, until you hear San’s voice.

“Will you avoid me?”

“San,” Yeosang sighs.

“Is it not a valid question? Each time one of us encounters her she shies away. You told us you would accept our change and not sway any longer. Why are you changing tune now?”

Your eyes narrow. “Am I not allowed to have fear of the unknown? Of what you may do? Did Wooyoung not tell you?” Confusion crosses his eyes. “So he has not.”

“Rose? What’s going on?” Mingi speaks up.

“Wooyoung pretended to be Yeosang while I was in Seonghwa’s quarters. He manipulated me into speaking with him, to divulge my emotions because I only do so with Yeo. He spoke about my explicit encounters with him. So forgive me if I am a bit hesitant on speaking to any of you for longer than casual conversation. If Wooyoung’s intentions have changed overnight, then I can no longer trust any of you who have become like the captain.”

You feel Yeosang’s hand brush against yours, letting your fingers fold together. He presses his lips against your temple, calming you down for a brief moment. San and Mingi watch the interaction. There is nothing but bitterness in San’s gaze, and longing in Mingi’s. You would have pushed their worries to the side right at those looks, but now… you cannot. Yeosang pulls you away from the two, leading you around the bow of the ship, down the steps to your room. He glances around once to make sure the two of you are alone, then pulls you into his arms. You tuck your face into the curve of his neck, a long, tired sigh escaping you.

“I am deeply sorry,” Yeosang says. “If I’d have known, there would have been no hesitance in me seeing you.”

“This is not your fault, Yeosang. You don’t control the actions of others. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

His expression is still heartbroken, so you reach up and hold his face in your hands, a light shake to pull him from his thoughts. “It is not your fault, Kang Yeosang. Okay? None of this is.”

“It feels as if I failed to protect you,” he admits, covering your hands with his. “It’s hard to push the thought away. If I would have known he was planning such a thing, or if it even happened at all, I would have ran to you. I just never anticipated something like this happening, it is of no wonder that you have been to yourself. Why would you want to see any of us after such an event?”

“Because I care for you all, in a bizarre and anomalous way,” you whisper softly, closing your eyes. “Yeosang, I am leaving.”

His grip on you tightens, body shaking. “I thought you said—”

“I cannot handle being here anymore. I thought I would be able to somehow conjure up good reasoning for me to stay, but there is none. I no longer belong. I cannot move past this no matter how much I want to. I’m sorry that I was not strong enough.”

He tilts your chin to meet his gaze, “You’ve always been strong, my Rose. And as you’ve done with us, I will do with you as well. If you want to leave I will not try to convince you otherwise. But the others, they will be devastated.”

“I know. That’s why I’m leaving tonight.”

If his eyes could stretch any wider they would. “Pardon?”

“I plan on leaving without telling the rest. The tides are high but I can manage with one of the smaller boats-”

“Yeo, Rose?”

Both of your eyes move to the newcomer, Wooyoung, standing idly by the door. He rubs his arms though he cannot feel cold, brows furrowed as he keeps his gaze glued to the floor. You make no move to comfort him and neither does Yeosang, his eyes sharp as Wooyoung takes another step in.

“Not now, Wooyoung,” he turns back to you. “I would rather you leave.”

He seems to crumble underneath Yeosang’s words, eyes flicking to you. In all honesty you would rather you not see him ever again, but that is unlike you. Letting a situation like this linger is the last thing you’d like. Instead, you nod, gesturing for him to move closer. He looks small, sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the room, eyes flicking back and forth as he stares at the floorboards.

“I-”

“You disgust me,” Yeosang starts. “You are a disgusting man, do you know that?”

“Yeo,” you touch his shoulder. “Let him speak.”

“Has he not spoken enough?” He scoffs, but relaxes underneath your touch.

Wooyoung sighs, stopping once he sees the look Yeosang gives him. “I made a mistake. I was being selfish, I took my new gift as an advantage. I messed up. This is no one’s fault but my own, and I am sorry that I did this to you. To the both of you. Feeling at a disadvantage because of my own selfish reasons should not have made me want to trick you, Rose. I fucked up,” he admits, eyes moving to Yeosang. “And I broke your trust. I do not expect to be forgiven, if I am ever. I let my inner thoughts take over me, let my craving for attention ruin me. I am terribly sorry, Yeosang. Rose. I am.”

You stare at him, knowing that his words ring true. But even with that, there is the chance he may do it again. You let out a light sigh, nodding. “Thank you for telling me. I’m not sure if my forgiveness will ever be given to you, but I accept your words as true. If anything like this happens again, I will not be as calm as I am now.” Your tone is sure. “Do you understand, Wooyoung?”

His eyes widen as he nods quickly. Yeosang does not say anything and you do not expect him to, playing with his fingers. “We’ve known each other for over a decade, friend,” he whispers, eyes glued to the floor. “You are one of my closest friends, and despite this situation it will not change between us. I have accepted you as you are now without hesitance. I do not appreciate you hurting Rose this way, using my voice to attempt manipulation. I know your words are filled with sorrow, Woo, I know that better than anyone. Please do not… do not make me no longer trust you. Do not make me do that.”

“I won’t,” Wooyoung says, reaching over. His hand touches his. You look between them, their fingers curling into each other’s. Yeosang looks up at him, an indiscernible look in his eyes, Wooyoung matching him. “I won’t do it again.”

“Okay,” Yeosang breaths, closing his eyes briefly. “I plan on resting with Rose tonight if she so wishes, so do not wait for me if I do not come promptly.” His eyes move to yours. You nod, a smile on your lips. Your escape is only paused momentarily.

-

The time between then and now, Yeosang’s arms wrapped around you, Wooyoung on the opposite side of his. You in fact, never expected to be entrapped in their embrace, still angry at Wooyoung’s actions. Though you do not forgive him just yet, letting him rest in his room alone is never what you wanted. You could see from his eyes that he yearned to stay the night. So you suggested it and he agreed quickly, tucking himself beneath the blankets. You only laughed. And now here you are, the sun bright against your skin, staring at the open door. Mingi stands there, waving to you as he glances at the two men in your bed. You attempt to move, only pulled closer into Yeosang’s chest.

“Will we stay here for the remainder of the morning sun?” You whisper to him. His breath tickles your neck as he laughs. “You will have me until the end of time if you would like, Yeosang. But I must go.”

His laugh stops. The two of you have not discussed further your revelation, the double-meaning behind your words only making you nervous.

“Please do not leave,” he whispers. That seems to catch the attention of the other men in the room, Wooyoung stirring just behind him. Mingi’s brows furrows, glancing between you and him. “We can work this out-”

“This is not a public discussion.”

“Are you leaving?” Mingi asks. “You told me only nights ago-”

“For fuck’s sake,” You huff, pulling yourself from Yeosang’s arms. “Yes, I am leaving, okay? And I am sure this conversation will not remain between us all, so now I have to leave quickly.”

“What must we do to convince you?” Wooyoung asks, quickly standing up from his resting place. His hair is wild and silly, and if it were not for the circumstances you would laugh at it. But you can only shake your head, reaching down to grab your satchel. “The waves are too high, Peach. You may die before escaping-”

“Do not try to convince me; you will fail just as I have failed to convince all of you. Leave it be. Nothing will change my mind.”

“What will you do? Run to your brother? He is no longer in that city, Rose. He has left with his friends. It is a very small chance you will find him.”

You turn to Mingi, glaring. “I do not care.”

“Will you stay for Yeosang?” Wooyoung asks. “Is that enough?”

“If he so wanted, he could come with me.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened, “You would let me go with you? I- they are my family, Rose. I would not leave, even if I so desired.”

“And I know that,” you say softly. “I never suggested it because I know you would not leave them to come with me. And that is okay.”

“Why do you care for him and not for us?” Wooyoung’s voice rises in volume. “You told Jongho you loved us all. You said that, and yet here you are with him. What is the difference? What makes him different in comparison, Rose? Why can you not love us as you do him?”

You’ve avoided, moved around the truth. “I cannot love people who are dead, Wooyoung.”

He stills. Mingi, who has not spoken for a while, breaks the silence. “Because we have turned into this, you will no longer love us?”

“As I have told Yunho,” you say, turning back to him. “Everyone that I have loved is dead. The only person I have left is Yeosang. You cannot fault me for favoring him at this very moment.”

“We are standing right in front of you, speaking to you, and you dare say we are dead? I have never felt more alive, Rose. We are evolved, we are something else entirely.”

You shake your head, “You are not alive, and we all know that. You died that night Hongjoong stabbed you in your neck, Mingi.”

“Then what?” he swallows. “You no longer love us.”

“I love who you were. Not who you are now.”

Wooyoung laughs loudly, startling you. “Is that so? You no longer love us because of a change overnight? Is that it? You will not even attempt to try and move past it, is that it?” His eyes flick to Yeosang. “I have accepted my friend’s decision to stay as a human because I love him. I will not want him to do anything he does not want. I accepted that I will not have my best friend by my side for eternity. I planned on… convincing him sooner or later. But your words are strange to me, Rose,” Wooyoung moves closer to Yeosang. He rests his hand on his shoulder. “I wonder if your feelings will change as suddenly as they have for us if he turned right now.”

Yeosang tenses up. He attempts to move but Wooyoung tightens his hold. “I cannot live without my best friend, Yeosang. And Rose says she will no longer love you if you were anything other than human. Shall we test that?”

“Wooyoung.”

He holds his hand against the edge of the dresser, dragging it across harshly. His wrist begins to bleed as he presses it against Yeosang’s mouth, forcing the blood into his mouth. He gags against his hold, desperately trying to get him to stop. Tears roll down his cheeks, eyes flicking to yours.

"Stop!" You push against Mingi's hold, but it's of no use. Wooyoung grips Yeosang's body, forcing his wrist against his mouth. Crazed eyes hold him close, fingers almost piercing Yeosang's shoulder with how elated he is.

“This is all for you, Rose. We will test that will of yours.”

You cry, falling to your knees, unable to do anything. Mingi continues his whispering of comforting words to help you calm, but you only feel your heart breaking. The one man who wanted to stay by your side, the only one who understands what a curse this is–

Wooyoung lifts your knife you left on your shelf, stabbing it into his chest. The stress in your body overwhelms you, body shaking as you lose consciousness.

-

Yeosang has not opened his door since that morning.

It’s been several weeks, and you have not seen him at all. The need to leave has significantly decreased into nothing. Your brother is long gone, and your Yeosang is no longer human. And despite how cold you’ve treated the rest, he’s never wanted this. He begged against Wooyoung’s hold, begging for him to stop. But the two of you trusted him too easily, and thought of him as the old Wooyoung. It is your fault for letting him stay that night. None of this would have happened. If you let him leave, you would be gone. Perhaps Yeosang would have joined you. But now you’re too afraid to leave him here alone, and too scared to attempt to leave yourself.

It was either Mingi or Wooyoung who told the rest of your plan. After that, none of them left you alone for more than a few seconds. Even while you were cleaning yourself off, you opened the door to one of them waiting for you. Joining the crew now feels more like you’re restrained against your will to stay on the ship. And the one piece of calamity, humanity that you had left is no longer human. And you cannot see him even if you desire it. Which you do, desperately.

“He will come around to open his door for you, Rose,” Jongho says as he watches you eat, nursing a glass of blood. You still have not gotten used to the metallic smell surrounding you. Sometimes they left the ship while it was docked, stumbling back on with glass jars filled with blood. One night you heard screams on board and you could not fall asleep, knowing that just a few doors down they were killing a human. All of the men you love turning into these… creatures. Even Seonghwa, the gentle, calm Seonghwa you could not await to see, scares you a bit. You were never afraid of him, even as a jiāngshī. Now you cannot help but jump when you do not hear his silent steps. Meet his red eyes.

“Has he fed?” You ask softly.

“... It was very little. The jars we bring onboard are for him. Wooyoung keeps him company, even if he does not like it.”

“What will happen to me, Jongho?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will one of you come to me, force your blood down my throat so that I become one of you? Is that what I am to look forward to?”

He shakes his head, “No-”

“Do not sit here and tell me that you will never, that none of them will never when I clearly know that it would happen. I have witnessed it in front of me. If Wooyoung turned his best friend of years into a jiāngshī there is little hope for me. Months are miniscule in comparison,” You rub your face, dropping your spoon into the bowl. “Why will you not let me go?”

“We want you to love us,” he says, placing his glass on the side. “You have grown to love us as thieves, why can you not love us as jiāngshī? It is not like we've not killed before. This should be more reasonable. We are only doing it now to live. Is that not better in your eyes?”

Oh, they all have lost their minds. “Do you hear yourself?”

“It is not unreasonable, Rose. We killed and murdered countless times prior, even if you did not want to see it. We were never good men, and I am sorry that upsets you but nothing has changed except that we are now above being a human.”

“Hongjoong is cursed, Jongho!” You stand. “He died a horrible death and turned into this monster because of his wrongdoings, and now he has dragged the rest of you along with him! How can you not see this?” You hold your face in your hands, dragging your palms along it. “You are mad. You all are mad and of no sound mind, and I will not be a part of your delusions. I will not succumb to your madness. I will have none of it.”

You turn to leave and he stands. You stop, turning back around. “You will not follow me.”

He sighs, “You know that I do not have a choice in the matter.”

“Then finally make one, Jongho, instead of following your captain with your tail between your legs.” You leave him alone in the dining hall, stomping up the steps. You see a few of the men out and about, working on their duties on the ship. You pay none of them any mind, ignoring how the rain coats your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

Giving up on leaving does not mean you will tolerate their words.

"We will do everything we must to make her stay alive, long enough to turn her."

You stop in your tracks, turning to the Captain’s door. Several of them stand inside, none of them noticing you just a few steps away. You swing the door open fully, all of their eyes meeting yours. Curious, red eyes. You stand at the doorway, pointing your finger in the direction of the captain. "You are… saying these things about me. And for all of you to listen? I cannot comprehend exactly what your thought process is, but I will not be forced into something that I do not want."

"It's for your own good, my Rose," Hongjoong says simply. "You will learn to enjoy it."

"I will never enjoy drinking your blood, a human’s blood. You…" You clench your fist. "You will have to tie me down before I'd agree."

Hongjoong stares. You've never been able to read his expression, often clouded by the permanent smirk on his lips. But this time, it slowly molds into a sneer, eyes glowing. "If I must."

The others don't say a word. Not even Yeosang, his jaw clenched as he stares at the floorboards. Fear courses through you. What were you thinking? Barging in has only sped up the process of them turning you against your will. You could have held out longer, could have escaped and locked yourself away to die. Instead, you're faced with seven jiāngshī and their master pulling the strings. Waiting to tie you along with them.

You turn on your heel and run, stumbling slightly at your swift turn. You hear nothing behind you. You take a curious glance back, absolutely stopping completely in fear. Just steps away are the others, jumping over barrels and other obstacles to get to you. Panic courses through your body as you maneuver around objects in your way, jumping over the railing to the floor below. Pain hits your body in just that instant but you push through, throwing yourself into your room door and locking it behind you. You lift your slacks.

The shape of your ankle is twisted in an awkward position, tears rolling down your cheeks from the immense pain. Knocks on your door only make your fear worsen.

"We can break it down, Rose. All of this is unnecessary."

"I will not be put into a position that I do not want," you say back to San, rubbing your ankle. Your teeth dig into your lip as you hiss, head throbbing. "You all can fuck yourselves."

"Don't speak to me that way." You can hear how his voice cracks, but you don't care. Not now. Not when your life's on the line. You glance around the room, eyeing the small window to the deck. You're sure the others must be somewhere near where you are, but you have little options. You lift the latch, halfway through just as San opens the door. His stomps pick up but you've already slipped through, pain rushing through you as you grunt, slowly making your way to the opposite end of the ship. You hold your knife tight in your hand. The last thing you desire is killing any of them. But if it comes down to it, you would do what you must to stay alive. Your body hits the railing. Trying to steady yourself, you place pressure on your bad ankle and cry out, falling to your knees. Several footsteps make it closer and closer to you. You can feel your blood rushing to your ears, unable to control the fear.

"What have you done to yourself, my dear Rose?" Yunho whispers softly, taking a step to you. You shake your head, moving further into the railing. Just on the opposite side is the ocean, waves crashing against the sides. "Don't get too close, you might–"

"That is what I am planning on, my dear," you can't hide the sourness in your tone, a scowl on your lips. Your eyes shift to the next few men appearing just behind him. "Leave me alone, do not come near me."

"You expect us to move away when you're risking your life at this very moment?" Jongho asks, shaking his head. "We are not leaving you."

"Then I will leave you all," you slip a leg between the railings, panic immediately flashing in their eyes. "If I am to die, it will be on my terms."

"You would rather die than be with any of us?"

"I don't want this eternal life you speak of!" You shout over the rushing waters. "I want to live as a human. Why are you so desperate to force my hand? You all have changed. This decision you've made has changed you," your eyes shift to Hongjoong. Unlike the rest, he hangs back. Watching. Anticipating. An irritating grin on his lips. Almost eerie the way he smiles. "You've all become different iterations of that man. I do not enjoy it."

"I am still the same," Seonghwa says softly. "We are still the same, Rose."

"The Seonghwa I once knew would have not forced me to do something I did not desire. You would not have watched me die. Do you not remember how you felt when you found out Sejun killed me? You were heartbroken, distraught. How could you stand there and tell me nothing has changed?" You lean forward. "You scare me, Seonghwa."

His body crumbles, knees hitting the wooden floorboards. His body shakes as he takes in your words.

"We can remove the fear once you turn. You'll no longer feel it–"

"Do you not get it? I want to feel fear. I want these emotions. They are what make me human. Make me alive,” You look at Hongjoong. “It is not surprising that you are the way you are. If I knew you were a jiāngshī then, I would have never entered this ship."

A hand grips your arm just as you’re distracted, pulling you away from the railing. You scream, thrashing against Jongho’s hold as he holds you close. He looks at you with sadness. You notice blood coating his lips, glancing down at his hand. A deep, jagged cut shines in the light, the rain diluting how it looks. You kick and scream against him, crying as he holds you.

“Jongho, please don’t, please. I’ll listen, I’ll stay, please don’t turn me into it. Please Jongho-”

“I’m sorry Rose, it’ll be quick okay? Really quick, I will not let you suffer.” He pushes his hand against your mouth as you thrash, crying out. Your hands grip his arms, gagging as you accidentally swallow his blood. He pulls away, letting you fall to the wooden boards. You gag, coughing, desperate to get it out of your body. Realizing that you cannot, you try to stand, only for him to stand above you, holding the same silver knife that you just had in your hands. His eyes are wide. He is smiling.

Smiling as he stands over your body.

“It’ll be quick, Rose.” He brings it against your neck as you gasp, your screaming cut off. You feel it sink into your skin, gripping it tightly. Hongjoong moves around him, crouching next to you. His eyes flick over yours, ubiquitous glee radiating from his gaze. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead as the pain consumes you. Just as you feel the brush of him, your eyes roll back, falling unconscious.

-

Cold.

That is all you feel as you sit in your room, ignoring the knocks, the calls. Eventually they all left you alone, letting your thoughts consume you. You can feel how the cold seeps into your skin, the hardness of your body, the strange blue tint of your skin. It is not that noticeable in the dark, but moreso in the light. As if you were ever illuminated by moonlight. You touch the bandage against your neck, the smell of your dried blood making your stomach growl. You felt faint at the smell, but now all you can think of is drinking it. Letting the taste coat your tongue, spread in your body. The craving is overwhelming, clouding your mind.

Your door opens. You could smell him before he entered the room. Smell.

“Rose-”

You shut your eyes. “The last person I want to see is you.”

You can smell the jar of blood in his hands, the glass doing nothing to mask it. Your nose flares, sinking yourself further into your bedsheets. “Leave.”

“You have to drink-”

"I thought I could live," you say through the fabric. "I thought that after my wretched and tiresome life, I'd finally live. That I'd finally found my family, and we could be happy just being in the presence of one another. I begged for happiness my whole life and just when I've gotten it, it's pulled from my grasp. And I'm not sure if any of you can understand how it feels to be abandoned your whole life and having a semblance of happiness chewed up and spat out in your face. Yeosang and I are suffering greatly, and all you can do is beg for me to enjoy being unable to live."

"You have all the time in the world to live. You've been given more time–"

"I did not want this, why can't you understand me? Why?" you suck in a breath, eyes burning. Jongho tries to take a step closer to you but you move further into your bed. "Leave me."

"Please–"

"Leave me Jongho, or you will never be able to lay eyes on me again." Your words are sure. You can see how he hesitates, fingers opening and closing as he tries to navigate his scattered thoughts. Only a moment later does he leave you be, shutting the door. Right when he does it you fall to the floor. Your body lets out a scream unlike anything you've ever felt. Body shaking, head throbbing. The burning of your throat does not subside, neither does the ache in your stomach. You feel starved. The door swings open moments later. You already know who it is, not bothering to meet his gaze. He pulls you into his arms, the tremble of his body matching yours.

"I am so terribly sorry, my love," Yeosang cradles you close to his body, just as cold as yours. "I am so sorry he pulled your choice away from you."

"I don't want this, Yeosang," you cry into his chest. "I want to be a human, I don't want this."

“I’m so so sorry,” he whispers. “I could not stop it even if I desired it. Wooyoung, since he has turned me, has control over me. He told me to stay while they dealt with you. I had no other choice,” he tries to sniffle but it only comes out as a dry cough. “I am so sorry they’ve done this to you.”

Yeosang stays with you, never asking you to drink blood once. You know that he already has - he told you explicitly - but he insists that he will not do it to you. You lift your head to meet his gaze, slightly startled at the sight. Though you should have expected to see the familiar tint shining back at you, it startles you. Yeosang’s gaze is only filled with sorrow. You’ve found out quickly that tears will not form no matter how much you want them too, matching his gaze.

He presses his forehead against yours, sighing softly. “They will come for you, and I cannot do anything about it.”

“What for?”

He does not explain further, but you already know. You grip his shirt between your fingers, thinking. “I will leave before they can.”

Yeosang left soon after that to tend to his duties. You press yourself further into the corner, ignoring how Mingi paced back and forth in your room. You feel the burn in your throat, the need for blood. You’ve ignored it successfully so far, but you can feel how it weighs on you. The longer you do not drink the more it hurts.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” He paces back and forth across from you, glancing at your figure. “If you just let me aid you, then—”

“I told you countless times, love,” Your breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. They’ve reiterated that there is no need for breathing since you’ve turned into this, but you cannot bother to care. “My mouth will not be filled with another’s blood. I refuse it.”

“Then you would rather die?” Mingi stops, brows furrowed. “You would rather end your life here than continue to spend it with us?”

“This form of mine is not natural. We as humans are to die a normal death, not stay forever. Hell is on Earth already, why would I want to linger longer? I have lost everything.”

“You still have us. Is that not enough?” Mingi steps closer to you, crouching on your side. Your senses are heightened now, the smell of blood lingering on his figure. If you look closely, you can see a bit of it still beneath his fingernails. “Are we not enough?”

“Don’t make me answer that,” your voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes; are they just the same as yours? If you do not die, will you have to wear darkened glasses your whole existence? Unable to meet the gaze of others in fear that they may torture you? “I was forced into this life. Do not expect me to enjoy it. I cannot even… I cannot even desire the taste of fruit anymore. The one indulgence I have given myself since my family perished. He has taken everything from me.”

“It was a mistake—”

“Do not lie to me,” you sit up, gaze down to him. Fear crosses his face as you meet his eyes. “He could not hide the pleasure in his eyes before he bit me. He took it upon himself to make the decision for me. You know that I did not want this, Mingi. So do not ask me to pretend. I won’t.”

“Then…” his voice is hush, hands reaching for yours. You let him have his time, his moment of vulnerability with you. He rests his head against your hands. Your Song Mingi was always a warm man, consistently testy about the temperature on the ship. But as your hand caressed his skin, all you felt was bitter cold. “What can I do?”

You close your eyes, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead. Chill.

“You can let me die. And you can tell him to never see me again.”

He shakes his head, “Yunho is coming. He will bring you to town for you to indulge. You will no longer suffer, Rose.” He smiles, lip quivering. “You will live.”

“I will not allow that,” you say sternly. Yunho steps inside just as you utter the words, Mingi looking back at him. Without any words, he moves around Mingi, pulling you from your bed. You scream and tug on him as he takes you from your room. You spot the eyes of the others watching him, hope in their eyes. You struggle against Yunho’s arms as he drags you from the ship, his strength overpowering yours with ease. Despite how deep your fingers dig into his flesh he does not let it stop him. Your bare feet drag against the wooden platform, splinters digging into your soles. Your best efforts are only mute with his determination.

“You will eat,” he says solemnly. “This would be easier if you would cooperate. It’s not as immoral as you make it seem.”

“I do not want to harm.”

He spins your body towards him, eyes darkened as they meet yours. “Everyone could die on this island and I would barely give it a second thought. Do you think I care about their lives? What harm you will do to them? Do you?”

His hands encase your wrists, glare seeping into your gaze. “I'd relish in this city burning before I watch you starve yourself because you’re too frightened to drink some blood, Rose. If I have to force your face into the concrete as I pour it down your throat, I will. By the end of this night you will be choking on it.”

“Hongjoong does not agree—”

Yunho laughs, eyes wild. “Whose idea do you think it was to bring you out here? If it was not me dragging you it would have been one of the others. Just accept it.” He throws you to the ground. You cough up dirt, crying as he drags you through the dark. The city is quiet. You cannot fathom how not one person leaves their home to hear the commotion, ignoring your screams.

“This is a thief’s city, Rose. They all hear you but they could not care less. It is just like a lullaby to them, another whisper in the night. Ah, here we go.” He stops at a small field. You look, seeing two parents at a bench, watching their daughter play in the sand. He smiles, glancing down at you. “Looks like we’ve found your dinner, Rose.”

You look at them speaking in low tones, laughing by themselves. You shake your head, cries emerging from you as you fight against him. It is hopeless in the end as he tosses you just in front of the bench. You cough against the sand, wiping your lips. The father looks startled, crouching down.

“Oh miss, are you alright?” His wife asks, handing you her handkerchief. You ignore it, your fingers digging into the sand. The pulsing of their hearts fill your ears, the thought of their blood on your tongue causing your mouth to go dry. You can hear their daughter giggling in the distance as they try to help you. Her fingers touch your skin, a small squeal escaping her lips. Thump.

“You’re so cold! How long have you been out here?” She asks, concern etched in her words. Thump.

“Please,” you beg, not daring to meet their eyes. “Run, please.”

“Here honey, have some tea,” She holds out her small bottle, gesturing for you to take it in your hands. Thump. You shake your head, unable to move from your spot. “It will be alright.”

The father yells, the familiar screams that you’ve heard for nights on end echoing in the dark. His wife turns to him just as you look up. Yunho has already torn out his neck, the wife yelling as she stands. Her cries should frighten you, push you away. But the smell of blood overwhelms your senses, filling every part of your head.

It is at that moment when you lose yourself.

"She's a child, Rose," Yunho’s grip on your forearm pulls you away from your bloodthirsty senses. Your eyes meet the young girl, her lip quivering as the two of you stand there. She's a child. She's probably not much older than you were when your parents died. You look at the carnage you left behind, the body parts scattered about. Was that her parents? You don't remember anything, you can barely remember feeding at all. Yunho pulls your focus away, dragging you back. "It's okay, we were all like this our first time."

Child. You were close to murdering a child. You can still hear her heartbeat in your ears, thumping rapidly as Yunho shuts the door to the ship. When did you arrive? How much time has passed? You fall to your knees, staring at the blood coating your hands.

"Did I kill her parents?"

"Rose…"

"Did I kill her fucking parents, Yunho?" You grip his slacks. Though he does not confirm it, you can see it from the look in his eyes. How he gazes at you with utter pity. "I ruined her."

"It was a mistake. We shouldn't have let you out this early–"

"I ruined her life. I couldn't control myself, and I orphaned her, Yunho," you crumble to the floor, body shaking. "I made her lose everything."

"Hey, hey, get out of your head–"

"I hurt her family, and I almost killed her. And I enjoyed it," you gasp, hands flying to cover your lips. "I enjoyed it, Yunho," your voice cracks, eyes shaking. He lifts you from the floor with ease, carrying you up the ladder. The carnage flashes in your head over and over, the scared look on her face only pulling you deeper into your thoughts. You jump at the sound of a door opening, Yunho placing you on the seat. A warm hand touches you, lifting your chin.

Your gaze meets his, his captain’s staring back at you. Blood stains his white linen shirt as he stares down at you, hat thrown to the ship floors. The others stand behind him, their attire covered with it as well. He looks at you with concern, but you’re gasping, hands shaking as you stare at them. Red. Red between the nails, dripping onto the wood below. Flashes of red over and over again in your head. Screams echoing just behind it.

“I killed them,” you say through sobs, body trembling. “They were screaming and I killed them, Joong.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just take a breath Sea-”

“They were begging for their lives and I killed them!” You yell, desperately wiping your hands against the wooden boards. “I’m a killer. I’ve hurt innocent people. I won’t ever be forgiven. I cannot. I cannot be forgiven.” Your words begin to mix, thoughts taking over instead. You feel a cool hand touch your thigh and you jump back, turning to look at them.

Seonghwa looks down at you, wet streaks on his face. “You are not a murderer.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” you cry out, your hand covered in splinters with the way you’re dragging it across the wood. But it doesn’t hurt in the slightest, only frightening you more. “I’m a monster.”

“Dare you call yourself that? After everything we have done to make you this way? Everyone, leave,” Hongjoong’s brows furrow. “Do you know what I have done to make you come here?” Hongjoong grip is tight as he drags you around his desk. You do not utter a word in fear of agitating him. He lets go of your hand, swinging open the cabinet just behind his desk. What you presumed would be cartons of wine is instead, portraits. He waits patiently as you move closer, eyeing the photos he displays. Your eyes widen, noticing a particular man that looks oddly familiar. Staring longer, all of them do. The man who winked at you in the marketplace while you were with Jongho, every single man who previously spoke to you aboard this ship. Sejun rests there as well, along with other conquests of yours before arriving on the ship. You try moving back but Hongjoong blocks your path. He points to every single one, eyes wild as they meet yours.

“All of them tried to touch my treasure, some did,” he adds, a twitch in his lip. “But in the end they all perished. Some more so than others. Despite their sour appearance, all of them tasted quite pleasant. A shame that your mother walked in on me killing your father. She was just part of the aftermath.”

He lets go of your arm, and you fall to your knees. You can feel the pressure in your temples, the throbbing all consuming. Even as he speaks you can barely hear through the anger and sadness swimming through your body, chest tight enough to barely let you breathe. Hongjoong touches you and you haven’t the will to push him away, eyes meeting him. Odd how there is reputance in his irises, sadness as he meets yours. Mocking your own. You cannot speak even if you would like to, his fingers all too hot, all too burning against your cool skin.

“It’s okay,” he whispers against your temple. His arms slowly wrap around you, cradling your trembling body against his chest. He hums softly, his cheek pressed against your forehead. He begins to sing an eerily familiar tune. The same one your mother used to sing to you as a child when you were upset. It does anything but calm you, your body tensing as he continues to hum it. “Your mother used to love when I sang this to her Rose,” he starts. “She told me I had a beautiful voice. She loved me, you know. It is unfortunate that she disappeared that night. It was only luck that I found her at the market when you were a young woman, with another man. He had to die, do you see now, Rose? He took my treasure away from me. I am so glad you look just like her,” he holds his face against yours. “It is as if nothing has changed.”

You sob without tears, pushing against his chest. He only holds you tighter, your immortal strength nothing in comparison to his. “Stop-”

“She told me to stay away from you Rose, but how could I? You look just like her. And now you will stay like this until the end of time. I will cherish every moment I have with you,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I even killed Wooyoung’s brother once I found out what he did to you. I did this all for you.”

Wooyoung’s brother? “What are you saying?” You cough, “I never heard of his brother.”

“Oh, did he not tell you?” Hongjoong’s lips lift. “Your old lover, Sejun, Rose. He was Wooyoung’s hyung. His flesh and blood. He begged for me to not throw him off, but he hurt my Rose. Wooyoung is lucky that I merely threw him into the sea, and not tortured the man.”

The overload of information only makes you sink deeper into yourself. You’ve fallen in love with the man who killed your parents. Who was obsessed with your mother to the point where he let his feelings merge to you. Deluded himself into thinking that you were just another version of her. And now you find out that Sejun, the man who you’ve hated, was Wooyoung’s brother. How could you look at him in the eyes now, knowing this? Knowing that with your fast tongue, you’ve killed his family?

“Have you calmed down now, Rose?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. “If you’re okay, I’ll let you go back to your quarters. I know you’ve had a long night.”

You only nod, and he lets you go. Every muscle in your body wants to run away from him, but the fear of what he might do stops you from doing so. You slowly make your way to the door.

“And Rose?”

You turn to him. A grin is carved into his face. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

You swallow, nodding. You expect him to force you to say it back, but he only gives you his back, silently resting himself against his chair. You open the door and step out, the rain splattering against your cheek as you make your way across the deck. It scares you how you cannot feel the cold of the rain, the breeze hitting your skin with no shivers down your spine. There’s nothing you can do. If you run, Hongjoong will catch you. If you hide, he will find you. Your mother avoided him for several decades, but she was found, and she perished because of it. The only reason you were spared was because of your relation to her. You are sure Hongjoong would have drained you of blood just like your family. There is only one option left.

You will no longer be on this Earth anymore.

Your steps are slow as you descend down to your room, a creak echoing around the room. Your items are thrown about. The necklace your family gave you were of age, your father’s watch. Belongings from your old master’s house. Subin’s handwritten note tucked in between your pillow and mattress. You reach for it, finger dragging along his handwriting. You wanted to see him again, learn more about his upbringing, his life before this ship. It is unfortunate that you will never get the chance to.

If you could cry you would, but Jongho took that away from you. And even if he hadn’t, you are sure one of the others would have done so.

The knock on your door pulls you away from your sorrow briefly, eyes flicking to the newcomer. Seonghwa stands there, a strained smile on his lips when your eyes meet his.

“Are you alright, Rose? How about we drop that knife, hm?”

You look down at your hands, the silver flashing back at you. You don’t remember grabbing it, don’t remember covering it with the strange mixture Yeosang gave you days prior. You shake your head as you meet his eyes. “No.”

“Rose, we cannot make any hasty decisions-” He steps forward but stops once you press it against your chest, hand trembling. “Rose, please-”

“I cannot do this anymore, Seonghwa,” you bit your lip. “I want to cry and I cannot even shed tears if I wanted to. I can’t feel, Seonghwa. I cannot feel anything. I cannot even feel fear when I hold this against me. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I cannot.”

“Please,” he practically begs, falling to his knees. “I… I cannot lose you, Rose.”

“Do you know what he has done? Do you?”

Seonghwa says nothing. That is enough of an answer for you.

“I have been searching endlessly for the people who killed my family. And here I am, foolishly falling for the man who did it. Falling in love with the crew who knew what he did. And I am angry, I am more than angry. But if anything, I just feel pathetic for ever thinking that I found my new family. People that cared for me. It was all a lie. Just because Hongjoong wanted me so badly because he could not have my mother for himself.”

“If we can just talk about it-”

“I have done enough talking,” You press it harder against you, gasping. It pierces your skin with ease, Seonghwa immediately coming to your side. He tugs on your hands as you press it deeper. The blood you consumed earlier spills from the wound, staining your blouse.

“Rose!” He yells, tugging harshly. You cover his hand with your free one, embracing his panicked gaze. “Stop!”

“I would not have asked anyone else to be here with me when I die, Seonghwa. Please let me go.”

“No, no,” he begs, pulling again. You pull back, the knife immediately plunging into your heart. “No!”

tags: @revehosh @mrcarrots @belletiny @sansblkgirlfriend @hwadump @honeyedtalisman @atzcoke @glitterhongjoong @whatudowhennooneseesyou @marievllr-abg @arkive78 @dysftopia @kpopnightingale @wxnderingthoughts @jenniee-tm @hongshines @atinytease @multidreams-and-desires @yla-aira @wommypeaches @avantalem @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @toxicccred @xciiiomwliah @madelinelina @kirooz @a-tiny-teez @tenebrisirae @ageofjade @n0v4t33z @yoongiigolden @jonghoharibo @fl0r4f4wn @gh0stbish @kodsukein @vitrealislux @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @spiderrenjunfics @aeoliannie​ @tannie13 @leeknowsalot @xshansimsx @seojonneh @shingene @justconniez @mingi-banana @anushka-k @nightmarej1n @watamotee33 @dear-dreamie @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest @jaxavance @malyxsoulpersonal @az-con @charreddonuts @beautysirens @sunukissed @lixpixstix

[jojoannaaaa]

Bane in My Bones

Pair: Toji x Reader

Warnings: Mature Content, Inappropriate Moments and Adult Language. (if you’re under 18, you can’t read this). Spice. (Spice is nice 😏😎😉)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for taking so long. It’s been a mess. I’ve been playing Resident Evil 4 Remake, and it’s my third time playing the game, I’m still addicted to it. Enjoy this chapter.🥹

(Please report if someone decides to steal/plagiarize my story. And notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter 1: Road to Hot Hell

“Class hasn’t started, (y/n),” your fellow college classmate said to you. “And you’re studying.”

“That’s what college is for, doofus,” you said.

“Ugh, harsh words,” she said. “Classes haven’t started and you’re already cranky.”

“Well, what can I say, I love being cranky in the mornings. I should’ve taken classes at night. The only problem is, once it’s nighttime, either I’m sleeping in or being awake until the next day.”

While your fellow energetic classmate is talkative with vigor tone, you, on the other hand, is ready to go to sleep at any minute from every noise, even her loud talking. The class you took was unexpectedly large—filled with not ten, but twenty extra ladies, and less men, around eleven count, flooding into the empty seats.

All energetic as your fellow college classmate. This year, you wanted to major English. You dreamt of going to Europe one day. You hoped that English class will set a solid guide for you to speak a foreign language fluently. Moreover, having literature lessons and annotations and notes.

More knowledge means more dignified and independence and confidence individual.

“Here,” your fellow classmate said, handing you coffee—caramel fudge flavor with swirled whip cream and cinnamon-powdered sprinkles.

A faint scent of cinnamon rushed through your numbing nose.

“Thanks,” you said.

“Yeah, that was supposed to be my second cup, because I was up all night yesterday, because some people are being rowdy as fuck in the dorms while I was studying and annotating the stuff regarding to the lesson this professor taught—more like scolded. Have you done it?”

“Done what?”

Her eyes squinted. “The assignment?”

“Oh—uh, I was working late last night. You know, money does go into the wallet by itself.”

“That’s too bad,” she said. “But I heard that sometimes the professor forgets the assignment—that’s the best part.”

“Unless someone reminds her.”

With a certain sharp gaze, she said, “Who said that the professor is a she?”

“So it isn’t a girl?”

“No,” she said, turning her head over shoulder as she pointed towards the girls. “See those girls over there? Ones who are wearing annoying sticky lip gloss and those fake nails?”

“What about them?” you said, not looking, though knowing who she’s referring to.

“They’re here for a particular reason, (y/n),” she said. “To top if off, they aren’t here for an English lecture.”

“Gee,” is all you said, yawning. “I don’t care what they do and how they do with their lives. If they like to mess around, that’s not my issue. I’m not the police patrol.”

“While yes, we shouldn’t give a crap about them, maybe, pay attention closely to who I was referring to at the moment.”

At once, you shut the book of the college assignment. “Alright. Who are you talking about?”

Her finger lay atop of her lips, giving you a signal to lower your voice down.

“Those girls may act innocent and shit, but I’ve seen those people, and you haven’t.”

“Get straight to the point,” you said.

“Fine. They’re here for the professor.”

“So, is this teacher the best at giving the girls education.”

“That’s not it, (y/n). Rumor has it that this professor in English literature class isn’t the only thing he’s good at.”

“Then what’s he good at?”

The class boomed from the other side—the door came with a huge bang.

The group of girls talking at the very top of classroom stadium, and stalked back into their seats, where they could still gossip the drama and love lives.

Once the doors have been shut, heavy footsteps sank each time he walk. His hand clenched on a leathered folder, as his long legs strolled to the podium.

Behind you, you hear awes and ooohs, filled with fancy adoration and girlish giggles.

Furrowing your brows, you eyes studied him. Tall and grumpy.

Looks like someone’s having a bad day, too. Hooray for being cranky.

You sipped some sweetened coffee as you kept examining his features. Dark glossy hair, grey eyes, and his suit is professional. Almost.

He looked a bit messed up in the morning—probably in a rush.

His one button was a dead giveaway.

What could be the cause of that?

“Oh god, I saw the glimpse of his chest,” one girl behind you said.

“Yeah, I did the deed this morning just to get a good grade. But boy that man is fucking gorgeous in bed.”

Figures.

You didn’t pay much attention because while the professor is doing a lecture, you were studying for another class session. A bad idea. But, your way is important. At least for now.

“Miss (L/n),” his voice hardened.

A hand slapped you on the back, which ultimately made you jump and grouched at the person beside you before looking at the professor with close inspection.

His black mane frame his face, looking youngish as if he’s in the mid-twenties, but his tall and beefy stature underneath his suit made it all more manly and sophisticated, but sophistication wasn’t his nature. You figure he’s rather a casual-looking guy looking awkwardly trying to fit in with the professors in college. Rules are rules. Maintaining professionalism through appearance is important. If he’s wearing jeans at work, people would think he’s an unsuccessful guy.

But no one paid mind.

After all, according to the scar on his cornered lip, and his narrow eyes and fit body and deep voice, he’s the chick magnet.

“Are you paying attention to the question?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, given no proper answer to his grouchy mood.

“Does anyone know the answer?” The professor asked.

The girls behind you raised their hands, as one of the girls said, “Can’t believe that bitch is acting so stupid to the professor. Studying another subject while he’s teaching. Unbelievable.”

“Right? She should be ashamed of herself.”

“What a narcissist.”

You ignored their biased comments and went back to studying.

Lecture went on as the professor said, “the assignment is due until next week. In the meantime, use your time wisely on doing research and find more sources before typing an essay.”

The class dispersed and exited. Everyone was fast at going to an exit, discounting the countless admirers the professor has, you are packing it in a meticulous way—mainly because your eyes are glued to the page you were trying to study for the next class’s pop quiz.

The girls cooing and praising the professor.

What’s so special about him other than having a GQ model appearance?

You thought of calling the professor “Him” instead of his surname; you didn’t know what his surname is.

By the time you reached at the exit, you shortly looked back at him, where the girls bombarded him with multiple questions and conversations all at once.

Thank god this class hour is over.

And so you left.

•••••

“How did it go?” your friend asked.

You shut the door. “My love life or my college life?”

“Come on, you know what I mean.”

You shrugged. “I’m doing just fine.” Then you perched over the dining chair with a sloppy form.

“Tiring, huh?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t find a job for this week because I have to make an assignment for this stupid professor.”

“Professor?”

“You know, the one where the ladies are talking about.”

“The only ones I know is that either everyone loves Leonardo DiCaprio, or one of those new actors in this new film, or in a Korean drama.”

Sighing, your palm smacked over to the center of your face. “I was talking about the English lecture I have today. Mr. Uppity gets all mean when I wasn’t paying attention to him.”

“Do you recall his name?”

You waved it off. “Nah. Too busy studying for my own sake…my future.”

Your friend set the bowl full of soup in front of you. “Good thing you’re home now.”

“Yeah.”

Your friend beckoned. “Speaking of home, there’s someone who likes to see you.”

You turned and you saw your six-year old boy with a dark, long manes and grey eyes. “Mom!”

You rose from the seat in swift motion and ran towards him. “Daichi!” You hoisted your son in the air and gravitated him towards near you, pecking his black locks with your numerous kisses.

“How’s your day, my little boy?” Your hand scuffed his hair locks.

The boy’s lashes fluttered and his grey eyes twinkled with wonder. “I got candy from my teacher today. I behave, just like you said.”

“Good job!” You ruffled his hair. “I think we should go out and get some fast food. What do you say?”

The boy wiggled in your arms. “Awesome! Come on, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Giggling, you said, “Easy, there! We’ll go right away!”

Your friend smiled at the sight of you and your son.

“Let’s bring Auntie Emi with us.”

You looked at your friend.

“I’ll drive,” Emi said, grinning. “Only if he tells us.” Emi proceeded to tickle Daichi, making him wiggle harder than the first.

“After that, we’ll help you with the homework, okay? Your mom has to study and do assignments for the upcoming lecture.”

Daichi nodded, eyes still twinkling. “Okay!”

With an unexpected life comes with a blessing. The only problem is, without a stable finance, you’re set to a dooming failure.

•••••

At the fast food restaurant, you ordered the food for Daichi, and Emi’s food set on a large plate, she offered to share with you, though you spent your share pf money for your appetite. Although it’s vaguely small, but doable since you’re hungry since this morning, only drinking nothing but sweetened coffee.

“You okay there?” Emi asked.

“I’m fine, it’s just…having a rough time,” you replied. “If only there’s something I could do to make my son happier.”

“He’s already happy,” Emi objected.

“Yes, but the problem is…something has been missing in his life. I wish I could take it away and make it all better for him.”

Emi placed her hand atop of yours. “I’m sure things will work out. I’ll find you a job and see what’s going to happen next.”

“Easy for you to say,” you said, rolling your eyes. “If only things are simpler.”

“It will,” Emi promised.

Then you smiled to yourself.

I hope so.

“But for now, I have to fix my college life.”

Emi shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Mommy, mommy!” Daichi said, tugging your top.

Your eyes casted down on him. “Yes?”

“I want…”

“Yes…”

“When is Dad coming home?”

Your heart froze.

“I’m…I’m not sure, sweetheart,” you said, stroking his hair. “We’ll enjoy first, okay?”

His eyes went crestfallen. “Okay.”

If only you knew who the father is.

Taglist: @colored-tr-panels @mrssano04 @goldenbeskar @f1yh1gh @galactict3a @onyx-blossom @sehunnies-hunnie96 @penguinlovestowrite @ashwasherelol

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Long Gone (6)

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x Reader

Warnings: Has mature content, mentions of infidelity, contains profanity and tiny bit of smut if you squint 😄

A/N: forgive the typos and grammar errors, i rushed this im so sorry. Let me know what you think!!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

When Shoto fell in love with you, he fell hard and fast. 

Ever since he saw you when Momo first brought you to UA during the school festival, he could not take his eyes off you. Shoto just wanted you. So he did what he could to see you, talk to you or even just be near you. He stays in the common area whenever you come to visit until it's time for you to head home, when he finally gets your number, he messages you every chance he gets and he even finds himself asking Yaoyorozu when you'll be visiting next.

But being as clueless as he is, he hadn't fully realized his feelings for you up until he was interning with Bakugo and Midoriya. Shoto hated seeing you grow closer with the other two. His chest would feel funny whenever you would smile at Bakugo or when you would fuss over Midoriya. Basically anytime your attention wasn't on him.

Being their affiliated support for their hero gears, you spent most of the time with them. One afternoon, you were assisting Shoto with his upgraded suit when he blurts out, "Y/n, I like you."

You froze in the middle of fixing his collar as his hands circle your wrists. "I have to know, would you consider going on a date with me?"

You swallow hard, trying to make sure your mind isn't making things up. Of course you've liked Shoto too, you have since forever. He's always been nice to you, always the gentleman and you'd have to be blind or stupid not to think he is extremely good looking. Plus, out of your friends, he's the only one who seemed genuinely interested with the projects you're working on. Always asking you to tell him about your new designs, always encouraging you whenever you'd feel defeated if things don't go as you expected. He even visits you in your agency and brings you coffee whenever he sees your updates on your socials that you're still stuck at the office working on a project.

"Y/n." He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, snapping you out of your trance. "Give me a chance. Please?" Shoto's chest felt like it was going to explode. But he has to do this. He needs to. He can't let you get away anymore, not when he's so sure he wants you. And he wants you so bad. Shoto didn't think he could take another day seeing other guys making you smile or attempting to make you theirs. He has to try to make you his.

"W-wait, what about Momo? Don't you like her?" You stammer, searching his eyes. You've spent a handful of get-togethers with him and his friend group that you know there's this inside joke about him and Momo eventually ending up together. Todoroki's brows furrow as he shakes his head. "We don't see each other that way. Our friends just like teasing us because they think we're similar in some ways."

"Yeah, she's more fit to be your girlfriend," you laugh wryly. "She's a hero too, she's so beautiful and, you guys are on the same level and you have known each other for years so hnnmm-!" Your eyes widened as Todoroki crashed his lips with yours.

That was Todoroki's first kiss. And yours. It felt raw, nervous, but perfect in every way. 

How you melt into his arms, how he held you like you're the most precious thing in the world, how you tasted like coffee and him like the peppermint candy he took from the lounge while waiting to meet with you. As you both pull away breathlessly, it becomes clear how stupidly in love you two are. What with your face-splitting grins and hands practically trembling as you hold each other.

Shoto could not put into words how satisfied he is that you're finally his after years of pining over you. He realizes that he has never been this happy in his life. The only thing that could make him happier now, is marrying you and building a future with you.

The life he has been living up until he took it all for granted. And these very same thoughts had been plaguing him every night since that confrontation with you.

Was Yaoyorozu really worth losing a life he once dreamt about?

You hadn't talked to him since that night. You don't even bother feigning anything anymore even if Yukio is present. All your replies are short but still decent, much more than Todoroki deserved. Yukio was starting to notice too, asking, "Are you and daddy fighting?" To which you answered with, "Daddy and I just don't see eye to eye anymore."

Shoto tries to keep his expression neutral as his son continues to ask, "What's that mean, mommy?" While you meet his gaze as you reply, "You'll understand everything when you're older, honey."

For the past few days, you have made it your mission to close yourself off from Shoto despite his obvious attempts to talk to you and appease you.

You stopped cooking for him, preparing his shit for work and just focused on Yukio. You were gracious enough to let him join meals for Yukio's sake but the chef is now responsible for his food. You almost laughed when he did a double take after tasting his coffee or when he went to his office expectantly only to find his utility belt still fragmented.

It felt weird to you at first, not doing these duties as Todoroki's wife. It didn't ever feel tedious before because you do it out of love, out of concern. But now that he has forfeited his right as your husband, you feel a sense of freedom. Of finally having back that time and energy you used to dedicate just for him.

You were driving to the event's place for Yukio's party for a last minute meeting with the organizers when you got a call. The name that appeared on the dashboard made your expression brighten a little.

"Oi, Y/n. Where are you?" He asks, right away making you shake your head a little. "Uh, driving to the hotel? I'm meeting some people for Yukio's party, why?"

"Because I am suddenly free today, so drop by shitty Deku's agency and pick me up. I'm coming with you." Bakugo says and before you could respond, you hear him say to someone, "Hear that, asshole? I'll accompany your fucking wife to do shit for your son's party since obviously this damn mission is more important to you. Loyalty, my ass. I can't take your fucking bullshit."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I'll wait for you up front." He grumbles when he gets back to you. Bakugo then ends the call, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.

What the hell just happened?

---

Bakugo was surprised that Icyhot didn't come after him with what he had just said. He was half expecting your husband to tackle him right then and there but he just sat there like a kicked puppy. He just couldn't take it anymore, seeing that Todoroki bastard and the woman he fucking betrayed you with. But what triggered Bakugo was when they were talking about their villain target's motive.

"The suspect is a right hand man of a black market magnate. They deal quirk-nullifying drugs, illegal weapons and artillery." Deku explained earlier as he laid out an image of a middle aged man who looked like someone out of the Godfather movie. "This is him. Last year, Hawks and Eraserhead were able to track him down. Unfortunately, he was killed in action."

"Now our current suspect is taking down every hero involved in the case. Last week, there was an attempt at UA to get to Aizawa-san." Deku continued to say with a grim expression.

"So we finally know their motive. He's seeking revenge, a display of loyalty to his boss." Icyhot says and that somehow had Bakugo let out a bitter laugh.

"The fuck do you know about loyalty, you cheating bastard?" He blurted out loud without thinking. "Yeah fuckface, I saw you and this bitch grabbing lunch the other day. Plus I saw you two playing tonsil hockey in the parking lot earlier! Jesus, you're both fucking shameless."

The horror on their faces was gold, especially ponytail and half 'n half, that the guilt Bakugo felt for airing out their dirty laundry vanished as quickly as it came. Bakugo was somehow grateful it's just them and shitty Deku, thinking you would be upset if other people knew.

"You know what," Bakugo rose from his seat and shook his head. "I'm out. I can't work with these clowns." He shoots an apologetic gaze at Deku who still has his jaws on the floor. "I'm sure y'all can handle it. After all, you're the current number one," he slaps the green haired man's shoulder, "and you got reliable number 3 over there and.. what's your rank again??" He glowers at Yaoyorozu whose face was red in both anger and embarrassment. Before she could speak up though Bakugo snorts, "Right, you're not anywhere near our fucking league, are you Creati? I was wondering how you got teamed up with us at first. But I got to say, good fucking job climbing your way up the big leagues." He winks mockingly at her before flashing Todoroki a disgusted glare.

"Kacchan, enough-" Deku tries to reign him in but the guilt written all over Todoroki's face only made Bakugo want to do more. So that was when he called you and put you on speaker. To his delight, you answer after two rings.

The look on Todoroki's face was so satisfying to Bakugo as he heard your voice. A part of him wanted the cheating bastard to act out just so he could finally have an excuse to blow his fucking face off. Maybe add another scar or two. Or just full on beat him to the point of beyond recognition. But even as you pull up in front of the building, Todoroki was still rooted in his seat in the conference room. His mind was racing as he realizes that if Bakugo knows now, it's only a matter of time before the whole world knows as well.

--

Bakugo watches your expression as he tells you of what happened. To his surprise, you look calm. Still he says, "I'm sorry, Y/n. I have no right telling others about your business-"

You grab his hand and squeeze it once. "It's fine, Katsuki." You mutter, keeping your eyes on the road. "Besides, we both know Izuku. He wouldn't be such a loudmouth like you." You sneaked a teasing glance at him and snorted.

"Hey!" He pokes your side and you yelp, reminding him that you're driving. On the other hand, he's glad that you're taking this better than he thought you would have. You're even able to tease him. Bakugo was more than ready to apologize because he thought you'd be really upset.

"Shoto is a grown man. I can't protect him forever. Even if we choose to keep our mouths shut about the things he does, if he continues doing his shit then there isn't much we could do." You shrug, your expression dimming again. "You said you saw them earlier in the parking lot, who's to say that you're the only one who saw?"

"At this point, probably a lot of people know by now too. Either they choose to keep their mouth shut about it or turn a blind eye like me because they know that he is fucking married and has a kid. But I don't really care anymore. If he no longer gives a damn about his image or our marriage, why the fuck should I?" Bakugo sees your grip on the steering wheel tighten, both your knuckles turning white. "I'm done." You mutter, mostly to yourself. 

"I'm done." You say again, a little louder this time and Bakugo feels his heart ache for you but also so proud at the same time.

"Not that it's not already obvious but, I'm here. For whatever you need." Bakugo says, making you inevitably smile. You see his hand in your peripherals reach for yours and you let him ease one of your tight grips on the steering wheel. His hand felt a whole lot warmer and rougher than the ones you've grown used to holding, but a smile on your lips grew wider as Bakugo gave you a reassuring squeeze. A wave of comfort had you sighing as you say, "Thank you, Katsuki."

---

Shoto was grateful Midoriya insisted they regroup another time. He then grabbed his phone to call you but it went straight to voicemail. He doesn't even know which hotel you booked for the party so he has no idea where to go. Shoto felt his stomach turn as it dawned on him how much of an absent husband and father he's been. One he promised he'd never become.

"Where are you going?" Shoto stops short as Momo grabs his hand. "Don't tell me you're going after them."

Was he? Even if he does, what good would it do? You hate his guts and you're already with Bakugo, he would just look stupid. He knows you can't stand seeing him anymore. You barely tolerate him at home no matter how much he tries to get to your good side again, even with Yukio present.

"Come on, Sho." Yaoyorozu coaxes, "Let's go to my place." Todoroki sighs as he lets his gaze fall on Momo's face. The same question he had been asking himself for the past few nights pops in his mind again.. Was Yaoyorozu really worth losing the life he once dreamt about? Losing you?

Turns out, she's not.

Todoroki really thought he now loves Momo. That you're nothing to him but just the mother of his child. But why is it that try as he might, as he falls back on her bed with her beautiful face and perfect body on top of him, all Shoto could think about is you?

No matter how much he tries to focus on the pleasure Momo's lips and hands give him, Shoto's mind was being plagued with the contrast of how your loving touch used to feel.

And as he buried himself deep into her, he chose to close his eyes and picture how it used to be being with you instead.

And when he released inside her, the name he moaned out was yours.

---

You went about your day after your meeting. Bakugo, although he wanted to spend the rest of the day with you, had matters to attend to. But he did help out shopping for groceries for the food you need to prepare for Yukio's family day tomorrow and left after he put every bag in the back of your car.

Yukio was peacefully tucked in bed and you were in the kitchen making onigiri for Yukio's class when you heard someone approach. Todoroki stumbles in the kitchen, clearly drunk off his ass. Your brows furrow as you look over his rugged appearance. It's a miracle he got home safe in his state.

"H-hey, I love those!" He chuckles, staggering forward to grab one of the onigiri you had made. You watch your husband stuff his face, satisfied hums escaping him. "You always make the best food, Y/n. Have I told you that?"

"No." You said flatly and tried to ignore him as you made another one. Todoroki blinks as he chews on the last bite, looking at you ruefully.

"Well, you do." Todoroki smiles sadly. "I always prefered your home cooked meals than the ones from restaurants." You glance back at him, not used to him being this talkative. "You haven't cooked for me in only 3 days and I already miss it." A wry laugh escapes him which dies with a deep sigh.

"I miss it, a lot." His voice grows thick as he averts his gaze, admitting, "I miss you."

You ignore the pang of ache that reverberates in your chest as you put away the onigiri into containers. Todoroki on the other hand continues to babble away.

"I miss having you in bed next to me. I miss being able to hold you when I want." He hiccups, "I miss hearing your voice, hearing you say you love me."

You turn your back on him, taking all the used dishes to the sink. Gritting your teeth as you will yourself to stop tearing up. Reminding yourself how much you should hate him instead of cowering to the words you longed to hear from him.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/n. I'm scared."

You opened the tap to drown out his voice but you can still hear every single word he says, you still find yourself latching on to every word and the walls you were able to build starts cracking by its very foundation.

Shoto makes his way to you, aching to hold you in his arms. When he finally does, it's like being able to breathe again. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent that he sorely missed. You are rigid in his arms as you feel him duck and brush your hair away from your neck. His lips finding purchase on the spot he knows you love.

The dishes, long forgotten in your hands, dropped in the suds as your eyes fell close. Your husband's hand snakes around you, tracing your skin as it crawls under your shirt.

"I've fucking missed my wife." He murmurs against your jaw. His familiar touch felt nostalgic, flooding you with memories you try so hard to bury. Todoroki turns you around and he sees your muddled expression, he kisses you hungrily on the mouth before you could come into your senses.

You were screaming internally, hating yourself as you revel in your husband's passion. To say you didn't actually miss this would be a bitter lie. Because despite it all, you still love him. You still truly do. Where else would your hate root from if not for his betrayal of your love that still lingers? That still pathetically ablaze for him after all that he did to you?

And then Shoto says it. 

"I still love you." He confesses before he feverishly kisses you back again, his tongue invading yours and your eyes fall close in surrender.

Shoto lifts you and traps you between his body and the counter, finally able to kiss you deeper and better now that you're basically the same height. And you, shamefully, kiss back. Shoto was in ecstasy to feel you responding, moaning out and thrusting against you as he felt your fingers thread through his hair like old times.

You shudder as his lips travel down your neck, his large hands squeezing your waist and thigh. He was hard as he pressed against you, the sensation practically having Shoto's eyes rolling back. He inhales deeply against your skin as he kisses down to the tops of your breast.

His head snaps up and he claims your mouth again. To his surprise though, you pull away. Tears fall from your eyes as you beg, "Stop.. Please."

Your eyes shoot open when Shoto's mouth latches on your skin, the cocktail of pain and pleasure traveling down your spine and pools on your lower belly.

"Sho-" you gasp out and Todoroki could burst into tears hearing you call him that again.

Todoroki is baffled. He grabs your face and searches your eyes. "Y/n it's not too late." He says desperately. "We can still fix this, bring the old us back."

You lean your forehead against his and let your tears freely fall down. He watches you helplessly as you shake your head, pushing him a little so you could get off the counter.

"That's never going to happen." You swallow hard and sadly rubbed his cheeks with your thumb.

"Because you are no longer the man I loved.. and I can't ever be my old self again."