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onlyseokmins · 6 months

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$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin.

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You.

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it.

You shiver.

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

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lettersfromaphrodite · 1 year

Text

«it's high tide, baby.»

― pairing : Minho x fem!Reader ― content warnings : fantasy au, pirate au, angst with a happy ending, enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates (I know you saw it coming), isekai, LOTS of pop culture references (two aldo giovanni and giacomo’s references italian readers this is for you), magic au, mention of murder, mention of drowning, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 24k ― notes : I sure do hope you’ve read Chris’ merman fic because I’m feeding on my own lore // Ananke is meant as the greek goddess of fate // extra kudos to Black Desert for having an amazing map and kudos to me for using the videogame aesthetic because I don’t have enough creativity in me to come up with a fantasy world // I have one (1) fear and that's I'll keep adding more and more everytime I read this story because it's just so dear and precious to me // yes, yes "The Bitter Dahlia" is exactly the one mentioned in «Protect Me, My Aurora.»

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

― summary :

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

“«Everything is over, now.» the Captain spoke in a confident voice, «I won’t let anyone else hurt you.» he added, before capturing his lover’s lip in a gentle kiss.” «Oh, holy fuck,» you blurted out as soon as you read that sentence, closing the book out of instinct, «holy shit, finally!» you added to yourself, almost closing the book out of excitement, completely aware about the fact that you were smiling like an idiot at no one but the now finished book in your lap but well, you couldn’t help yourself.

It was a book you’ve randomly found in the book-store next to your workplace, its cover had nothing special that immediately jumped to the eye: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Actually, if you had to be completely honest, the detail that convinced you to buy it was the small golden stone embedded right under the title, instead of the actual plot – plot that in the end you came to adore.

«You are really lucky, this is the only copy that has been sent to us.» had said the old lady working there, making you furtherly curious and giving you another reason to buy it.

It was a love story, but it contained just the right amount of adventure as well. Christopher, a young, handsome and fearless pirate, was not only the Captain of the Golden Fleece – who was capable of intimidating anyone who saw its sails in the distance, but he had become the head of the entire commercial network that passed through all the known seas. Chris had at least 200 fleets under his command, each of them committing various raids in the name of their Captain - or some might say "the King of Pirates", and now was able to sail wherever he wanted without getting his hands dirty as he had done in the past.

During his adventures, he eventually fell in love with a girl – Leana, who was originally engaged with a navy’s soldier; after an awful lot of vicissitudes and obstacles in the path of their happiness, Christopher eventually stole her away – he’s a pirate after all, making her a member of his crew and finally allowing each other to live their so craved love story.

Of course, the Captain would have never made it alone; his seven long time friends had always been more than ready to help him and support him in every case of need.

Among his crew, you definitely had a personal favourite: Lee Minho, a young former bounty hunter enamoured with the feeling of freedom he felt while sailing that definitely made your heart race more than once. Not only he was described as handsome, with black raven hair that would almost always be tied up because he "hated the feeling of having hair in his face while being on deck" - but also not wanting to cut it short, a captivating and hypnotic gaze that let you wonder if you could reach the bottom of the sea if you ever took a dive into them, but he was also straightforward and sarcastic, a reason why Christopher found himself asking for Minho’s advice the most; despite his strong personality, he truly cared for his friends, and he considered them like a family. Chapter by chapter, you found yourself admiring his character so much that you anticipated every one of his appearances, eager to read more about him.

«Oh, Cleo, can you imagine a love like this?» you sighed dreamily, absently running your fingers through your cat’s thick fur, Cleo simply mewled at you, a faint noise that you interpreted as a proper answer, «or a life like this.» you added, your voice suddenly turning a little more hesitant, a little more lonelier. During the last few months, your life had fallen into an incredibly boring and obnoxious loop: go to work, finish your shift with an incredible amount of stress spreading through your body just to stop in order to buy groceries on your way home, see some friends once in a while, take care of your cat and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Of course, you would have felt a lot lonelier if it weren’t for Cleo: you found her sitting in front of your apartment complex on a random day two years ago and since then she started living with you, as if she had been expressively been waiting for you to find her that day.

«You always look angry, don’t you?» you cooed at her, hoisting her into your lap as to cuddle her a little closer. «Just like your mom.» you referred to yourself, shortly drowning your face in her soft fur, loudly smooching her a few times while adding some incomprehensible praises; Cleo mewled, as if she was exasperated at your behaviour and you quietly giggled, your soft laughter shifting into a sigh as your eyes fell on the book once again.

“I was really lucky to get the only copy of this,” you definitely had loved everything about the story, to the point to start fantasizing and wondering what could their next adventure be now that the crew gained a new very special member. Did Chris and Leana got married in an actual chapel or did they ask someone in their crew to randomly marry them just like Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner did? At the same time, what if they ended up recruiting more women? The thought of a stereotypical girls night on a pirate ship made you snort, but at least, Leana wouldn't have felt lonely, since living among men must have been boring at some point.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you ended up drifting off on your couch – still uncomfortably wearing your jeans, and therefore, you definitely could not notice about the strange events occurring as soon as sleep overcame your senses.

The book you were holding in your hand seemed to be woken up by a curious kind of magic, as the golden stone began to glow in a faint light; the book opened by itself just as if it possessed personal will, and its pages quickly turned back and forth by themselves, as if it was deciding which page to read first.

The book’s golden glow gradually seemed to shine brighter and brighter, and it eventually woke you up.

«What the-» you mumbled, confused, when you felt as if someone or something was harshly tugging at your soul and all of a sudden, you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore.

The book had closed once again, politely placing itself on your coffee table; the glowing had completely disappeared, and the golden stone returned to its original plain looking appearance.

However, in what has always been your home, all traces of your presence seemed to have vanished altogether.

Suddenly drowning was definitely not something you expected to happen on a Thursday evening, moreover, how could you be drowning when you’ve been reading on your couch until few seconds ago?

At first you thought of it as an extremely vivid dream, but as soon as you tried to breathe and water started to fill your lungs, you realized that your only priority was to get to the surface as soon as you could; thankfully, you were barely beneath the surface, so you managed to get your head out of the water soon enough, while finally breathing and coughing due to the salt water you had unintentionally swallowed.

«What the fuck?!» you shouted in disbelief, quickly glancing around yourself; first of all, judging by the sun burning up in the sky, it was the middle of the day, and moreover, everywhere you turned, you couldn’t see anything but water, except for an enormous galleon blocking part of your sight.

«Man at sea!» you heard many voices shout from its deck, and soon enough, a rope was thrown in your direction.

“What kind of rescue is this, where is the coast guard?” you thought to yourself as you swam towards the rope which was peacefully floating above the surface, unsure about how you were supposed to climb up there in the first place.

However, the answer to your thoughts came pretty fast, in the form of a boy dressed in typical piratesque clothes, urging you to grab his hand; you quickly pondered your options, and between dying from hypothermia caused by the cold water or probably being abducted and eventually killed by a boy with a strange taste in clothing, you considered the latter to be the safest.

«Everything’s fine now, don’t worry.» the boy reassured you with an unexpected friendly tone, and as soon as you locked eyes with him, your heart seemed to stop; his eyes were a deep shade of blue, while his hair, eyebrows and his eyelashes were as white as fresh snow.

Although you were completely certain that you’ve never met him before, you couldn’t help but wonder why his appearance was extremely familiar to you.

«Are you okay?» «How did you end up so far from land?» «She’s trembling like a leaf, poor soul.» «Let’s just throw her back in.» «Shut up, Minho, go fetch a blanket before she freezes to death.» «Can’t you see she looks shocked? Let her breathe!» «What in the bloody hell is she wearing?» The various voices overlapped in the exact moment in which you and the snow white boy had safely climbed on deck; however, everything you could do was to look around yourself in complete astonishment.

A large group of men was working on the ship, while only seven of them and a young girl were paying attention to your arrival; your eyes quickly took in both the strangers and your surroundings, and you definitely noticed that not only they were all dressed like pirates, but the ship seemed to be built exactly like one of those you generally saw in movies, historical re-enactments or museums.

«Oh no, roleplayers.» you whined in complete deject; they exchanged a confused glance among themselves, but eventually, only one of them spoke.

«I believe you’re confused, we’re pirates.» he clarified, and once again, his features seemed to be incredibly familiar, «I’m Chris, the Captain. She is Leana, my wife, and these are my friends.» you watched with dismay as Chris ended up naming his friends just like the characters of the novel you have been reading all afternoon.

«Oh holy shit, it’s even worse, cosplayers.» you nervously rubbed your eyes, shivering every now and then because of the wind mercilessly blowing on your soaked clothes.

«Poor thing, look at her!» Leana suddenly cooed, immediately rushing at your side and taking her jacket off in order to place it on your shoulders, «She’s freezing, let’s save the introductions for later, huh?»

«What if she’s a spy?» Jisung questioned, but his option was immediately silenced by Leana’s glare.

«In the middle of the ocean, Han?» she quickly retorted with sarcasm dripping from her tone, «What if it was mutiny?» she scoffed, gently pushing you to what seemed to be the Captain’s quarter, just to quickly make you sit in front of the small wood burning stove.

The following events seemed to happen in a confusing haze, you vividly remembered Leana commenting about her unfamiliarity with both the style and the fabric of your clothes as you allowed her both to undress you and to dress you up in fresh, warm clothes that belonged to her. Of course, now you were dressed like a pirate as well.

«What do you mean, you’re from Europe?» Chris had calmly repeated your words, «What kind of place is that?» you felt like crying out of frustration at his words. Under the Captain’s request Leanahad brought you into the ship’s interrogation room, and now you were sitting there, the whole room definitely smelling like blood – the strong scent more than enough to give you a headache, with nine pairs of eyes studying every single one of your moves.

«I don’t really feel like joking right now, I really want to go back home.» you repeated with a tired voice, not really understanding what was happening; it was like you had casually walked in the set of a movie, however, a terrifying feeling of dread creeping in your soul was suggesting you that there was definitely more to it. What if these people were real, and you had managed to shift inside the book you loved so much? No, that definitely couldn’t be the case, right?

«I don’t really feel like joking either, little lady,» in an impatient tone, Minho spoke out of the blue and quickly walked next to Chris, who was sitting in front of you at the other side of the table. If your heart picked up pace in happiness at the sight of your favourite character, it started hammering in your chest in pure dread as soon as Minho harshly planted his dagger in the wooden table, right in front of your folded hands. «next up is your tongue.»

«Nice work on terrifying her, Min Min.» Felix sarcastically commented his friend’s action, noticing how you started trembling once again, but this time everyone could easily figure out that it wasn’t because of the cold any longer.

«You cut her tongue, she can't talk, it's not that hard,» someone added, and if you weren't mistaken, he must have been Hyunjin, «see why I'm the one that usually handles the interrogation part?» he added with a sinister yet smug smile, and you had to force yourself to swallow that little bit of saliva you felt in your mouth, trying to avoid eye contact with both the pirates who were so casually talking about torture and interrogations.

«What if she drank too much sea water?» Seungmin chimed in, after he had been studying your behaviour with concern, «You know, in my medical books there are plenty of examples of people suffering from amnesia due to a huge amount of shock.» he suggested, and everyone seemed to consider that it could have been your case, with the only exception for Minho, who was staring at you with a look that you could swear that had probably killed someone at some point.

«We are currently sailing the Margoria Sea,» Chris spoke again, his voice a little kinder now that he had considered Seungmin’s suggestion, «and you’re on our pirate ship, the Golden Fleece.»

“Margoria,” you thought, “of course, in this universe, she's the goddess of the waves” you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration as you tried to convince yourself not to cry, recalling the exact moment the same goddess had been mentioned in the novel.

The more you thought about it, the more the surreal possibility of you shifting inside a book seemed to be the only possible answer to your list of infinite questions, especially because if those people really were cosplayers or actors, they would have eventually broken their act due to seeing you in the verge of having a panic attack. Moreover, the author had always been extremely descriptive in every single detail of the story, and therefore you found it a little bit too much of a strange coincidence for these people to naturally have the same somatic traits as the characters you had just finished reading about. It was undeniable that the people standing in front of you were the stark copy of the ones described in the book.

Few hours later, Chris’ authoritative voice filled the Captain’s quarters, and your eyes eagerly wandered through the room; you’ve read about this moment a lot of times, Chris would summon his long time friends in his quarters and they’d discuss what to do because he valued their opinion as if it was his own.

«Just, what is she doing there?» Minho spoke suddenly, clearly referring to your presence in the quarters; due to your first meeting, you were extremely wary about meeting his gaze, let alone the possibility of crossing his path by accident.

Actually, it’s not like destiny was working in your favour, since you were nervously standing in front of the wooden wall and next to Minho. Everything about your body language exposed how nervous you were about it: your arms were crossed in front of your chest, and you kept your legs spread just a tiny bit – enough to have a slight chance to attempt to sprint away if he randomly started to chase you in order to throw you off the deck.

«I swear Chris entrusted her to me literally two seconds ago,» Felix replied, eagerly waving his hand as if it could make his point even clearer, «pay attention when the Captain is speaking!» he snapped his fingers, admonished his friend, and you found yourself exhale the faintest trace of the hint of a brief laughter through your nose.

However, much to your dismay, you quickly realized that Minho’s hearing must have been otherworldly, since the barely audible noise you made did not go unnoticed by his ears, consequently making your face turn blank as soon as you felt his gaze burning into the side of your head. Hesitantly, you slowly turned your head to your right, confirming that Minho was most definitely staring at you; out of reflex, you immediately looked away, just to glance back at him for a short second.

Minho, who had been staring at you, secretly pleased about the fact that you seemed scared enough not to try some stupid tricks on them, shortly uncrossed his arms from the front of his chest, just to slightly lean towards you: he quickly mimicked the gesture of grabbing something with his hands, while mimicking a bite with his mouth at the same time. Instinctively, you rapidly tilted your head back as you followed your survival instinct, but you heavily slammed your head against the wooden wall behind you.

«Ow!» you winced in pain, grabbing the back of your head with both hands; you were certain that the impact you just felt was more than enough to give you a headache for days, and still, despite Leana immediately rushed at your side to see if you were okay, and despite the fact that you were crouching on the floor massaging your head, Minho kept his original position, staring in front of him as if nothing had happened.

Seungmin was right behind Leana, attentively cradling your head to see if you actually managed to hurt yourself; unbeknownst to you, Seungmin was actually holding back an amused laughter, since it has definitely been a while since he met someone as clumsy as you.

A couple of days later almost everyone seemed to have accepted you as a new entry of the crew; actually, you considered yourself lucky since most of the pirates on board seemed to not even notice your presence. Of course, you ended up going along with the amnesia excuse because the whole “you look like you all popped up from a book I’ve been reading and I’m trying to understand if I’m having a very vivid dream or I ended up shifting on accident but I actually didn’t really mean it and now I want to go back.” would have been definitely too troublesome to explain. Most importantly, you didn’t feel ready to process what could have happened to you but also, you didn’t want to face the realization that you had suddenly appeared in the middle of nowhere, without a real possibility to get back home safely.

Honestly you were pretty much useless on a pirate ship, and therefore you ended up in the kitchen, either helping Felix and the other cooks in their task of preparing the food or just cleaning and preparing the room where the pirates formed small groups and took turns to have their meals.

If the truth was that you really ended up in a novel, you had to admit that everyone beside Minho acted accordingly to their character. Chris and Leana acted as two lovebirds, completely smitten with each other; you rarely saw them – let’s guess why, but they overall seemed to act friendly towards you. Leana had eagerly helped you decorate the room that had been assigned to you, it was a little small and right next to the storage room – the window was wide enough for you to escape just in case, but it was perfectly okay to you, since you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to remain on the ship for too long.

Since Leana seemed to trust you, so did Chris; despite the fact that you’ve interacted only a handful of times, he seemed as reliable as he had been portrayed in the novel.

Felix and Seungmin were definitely the ones you’ve seen the most. Felix was literally acting as your keeper, paying attention to you as if he was a concerned older brother and not someone who you had met few days earlier. Still, you could expect this from him, since he had always been described as the kindest one out of their group – beside Jeongin.

Seungmin had examined your head a concerning amount of times by now, if you were to ask him; actually, he had quickly realized that you were pretending to have headaches only when Minho was around, and he simply got along with it. He treated you with respect, even if he seemed to be a little wary of your presence. «Let’s hope you can get your memories back soon,» he would say, «so that you can return home safely.» you never answered, his words always making your heart tighten as a reflexive answer.

Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin were almost always nowhere to be seen; thanks to the author you knew that they had a gambling addiction, however, the only times you saw them they were joined by the hips, always joking around with each other – and Minho, always looking too busy to pay too much attention to you.

Jeongin was basically the miniature version of Chris: you knew that the Captain had saved him when he was still a little kid, and since then Jeongin had always followed Chris’ lead. He was the one that seemed to respect you the most, he was also absolutely certain that you must have been a Princess of a faraway land. «I’m really no one.» you would answer every time with an apologetic smile, earning a sad pout from the younger boy.

Minho, however, was openly against the idea of keeping you on board, and often suggested to throw you off the deck as soon as you started being too annoying. You couldn’t understand why he was so mean to you, and you weren’t definitely the only one to notice; more than once, the others had admonished his behaviour, reiterating the fact that he should have been a little bit nicer to you, especially after what you have been through.

«That’s exactly the point, Chris, we don’t know! She could be a siren or just a lunatic witch,» you overheard him argue with the Captain one day, «face it, if that were the case, no one would be immune to her spells, not even your beloved wife.» your hands instinctively clenched on the broomstick you were holding to sweep the floor of the corridors, and your gaze was lost somewhere in the wooden floor.

«She might as well be telling the truth,» you heard Chris answer in his usual calm tone, «I don’t want to deny her a shelter just because she lost her memories, because that sure wasn’t her fault.»

«What are we listening to?» Changbin’s voice right next to your ear almost made you jump out of your skin due to the sudden fright; his eyes widened in stupor as you almost dropped your hold on your broomstick – thing which would have definitely expose the fact that you were overhearing a very secret conversation. Luckily, Changbin’s reflexes were drastically quicker than yours, and so he collected the broomstick just in time, before handing it to you once again with an amused smirk. He placed his ear against the door, quickly connecting the animated argument to your sad expression and he gently smiled to you in an unexpected friendly manner.

«Don't worry too much about it, Ace, he’ll come around.» Changbin briefly stated before walking away, heading back towards the deck at the end of the corridor without uttering another word; you shortly stood there, speechless, staring at his withering shoulders as his silhouette gradually disappeared in the light coming from outside.

“What the hell?” you thought, incredulous: Changbin had barely spoken to you and now he decided to give you a random and most definitely sarcastic nickname and offer you words of comfort, all of a sudden?

“Something bad is definitely gonna happen,” you quickly deduced, going back to your original task; you were about to start sweeping the floor once again, before an ominous aura seemed to fill the packed space of the corridor.

“There it is,” you announced to yourself, refusing to turn around to confirm the suspicion that Minho had left Chris’ chambers, “oh, divine Xena, mighty princess forged in the heat of battle,please help me with this one,” you instinctively moved out of inertia, backing towards the nearest wall as Minho was walking towards your frame.

“Here we go, it’s him!” you dramatically thought, hugging the broomstick to your chest as if your life depended on it, the only shield between you and Minho, who was standing in front of you with his usual furious stare that magically seemed to disappear as soon as his eyes diverted from your general direction.

«I don’t know what you did to have everyone wrapped around your little finger, but that’s not gonna work with me, princess.» Minho spoke with a harsh tone, cornering you against the wall by placing his left hand next to your head; silence fell between the two of you, and you instinctively clenched your fists around the broomstick, just to be able to attempt to defend yourself in some kind of way.

Could you do self defence while using a broom? Of course. Could you defend yourself against Minho, judging the sheer force he used to plant a dagger in a thick wooden table? Of course not.

Minho spent few seconds studying your face with incredible attention, as if, if he stared hard enough, you would transform into a whole different creature, confirming his theories about you. However, Minho momentarily seemed to have forgotten the concept of personal space, because his nose brushed against yours at least twice as you were doing your best to avoid his piercing gaze.

«Now that I take a closer look, you’re definitely not as pretty as a siren.» he suddenly stated with a sly grin while raising his eyebrow, before detaching from you altogether, just to walk towards the deck’s direction.

«And you had to almost kiss me to find out?» you yelled back a little louder than intended as soon as he was at a reasonable distance; to say that you were outraged was an understatement, you were furious.

To think Minho was your favourite character when you were reading the novel, what were you, crazy?

Despite the fact that you were genuinely doing your best to avoid meeting Minho, the pirate was clearly doing the opposite, neutralizing every single one of your good purposes as the two of you seemed to keep running into each other. It didn’t matter whether you were simply doing your assigned chores or you were peacefully chatting with one of the pirates, he always seemed to find something to do in order to get on your nerves; sometimes he would just accidentally knock random things off the table so that you had to pick them up and clean them again, other times he would interrupt a conversation just to be mean at you.

Minho was definitely getting on your nerves, but you did your best not to pay too much attention to him, since you definitely had more important things to think about. Inside your heart, the growing feeling of homesickness was constantly calling for your attention; you often found yourself on the verge of tears, but it was a side of you that you were determined not to show to anyone, thing that lead you to cry yourself to sleep more than once.

The part of the crew assigned to the kitchen, of course, always had their meal before the others did, and more than once it led to your small group of friend to join, and today was not exception. Walking out of the kitchen, you saw Minho, Jeongin, Chris, Jisung and Seungmin sitting at one of the long tables in the room while eating and loudly chatting, and now that Jeongin was hastily and eagerly waving his arm to let you know that you should have sat next to him to have your quick lunch, you realized that yet another time, you couldn’t escape your fate of avoiding Minho as if he was the plague.

«May I, uh...» you walked next to Leana, who was walking towards their table as well; she immediately tilted her head towards you, listening, «May I approach the bitch?» she bursted out laughing really loudly, immediately understanding that you were talking about Minho; however, that happy and hilarious bubble of joy disappeared the same moment you heard Hyunjin’s voice right behind the both of you.

«What did you say?» never did the simple request to repeat something seem more dangerous; you swallowed, feeling your blood turn cold in the same moment the flashback of him mentioning his “interrogation habits” popped into your mind. However, the few weeks you spent living among pirates were teaching you how to build up your courage – or more like “fake it until you make it”, as someone would say.

«I said “may I approach the bench”,» you answered, pretending to be annoyed with the useless repetition of your sentence, nodding towards the long benches that you were using instead of chairs, «what did you think I said?»

The crew was incredibly hungry that day, you could easily tell from the speed at which they ate and the various groups took turns, thing that didn’t give you much occasion to chat with them as you often did; instead, you were frantically walking back and forth from the kitchen, helping two other pirates to deliver food to everyone.

“Maybe if I find a similar book I can get home,” you thought as you absently piled the dirty and empty plates on top of each other before carrying them to the kitchen, just to come back with clean ones, “where am I supposed to find a book in the open sea?” you sighed in deject, not liking the direction of your thoughts.

«I think you missed a spot, princess.» Minho’s arrogant tone caught your attention, and you watched with total unbewildrement the pirate hit the side of one of the wooden jugs placed on the tables, knocking it to the ground and spilling the water on the floor.

As if you were under a magic spell, all the traces of sadness seemed to vanish from your soul, just to be replaced by sheer anger; you were beyond furious, how dare he? He didn’t trust you, and you could understand his point of view; it pained you to admit to yourself that if you were in his shoes, you would have probably done the same. However, you could endure the teasing, you could endure everything he was putting you through but you definitely drew the line at this kind of disrespect. You closed your fist so tightly that you were absolutely sure that your fingertips would feel momentarily numb as soon as you tried to open your hands, and you were certain that your nails were digging a half crescent moon shape in your skin.

However, you and Minho were not the only one left in the room; Hyunjin, Changbin, Chris and few other crew members were not finished eating and therefore, they saw all the scene unfolding.

«Hey, fuck face!» you loudly called out, claiming both Minho and the other’s attention, «I get you feel powerful because you can swing a fucking sword, but you should learn to respect people who are working!» you stood your grounds, ignoring your heart wildly hammering in your chest and the nervousness you felt as soon as Minho stopped walking, just to turn towards you.

«You’re that interested in losing your head, huh?» Minho replied with an undecipherable gaze, quickly walking back towards you.

If there was a god out there, you were certain that they must have glanced towards your direction in that same moment, because right before Minho could close the distance between the two of you, Changbin’s shoulders appeared in your field of view.

«Calm down, buddy,» Changbin was still peacefully chewing on his food as he stopped him, placing a hand on the pirate’s chest, who tilted his head just enough to keep furiously glance at you.

«If we were still home, I would have get you arrested!» you spat, your chest tightening at the thought of your home town but also incredibly thankful to Changbin.

«Again with those stories? You sure do have flowers growing in your head, princess!» Minho immediately answered, trying to walk around Changbin, who was still pushing against his chest.

However, what no one actually expected was for you to actually try to confront Minho from up close, attempting to walk around Changbin as well; honestly, you were too furious to notice that you were about to face a pirate while completely unarmed and not knowing how to fight.

«Easy there,» Hyunjin suddenly spoke with amusement from behind your shoulders, placing his arms under your armpits just to stop you and hold you back.

«Say that to him, not to me!» you tried to free yourself without success; Hyunjin was very strong despite his slim figure and therefore, even when you kicked both your legs in the air while urging him to let you go, he didn’t move the slightest.

«Don’t you think this is the kind of energy we need on board, Binnie?» Hyunjin laughed, eagerly chatting as he had no trouble holding you back; Changbin scoffed a laugh as well, since it’s been a while since he saw Minho getting riled up that easily.

«That’s enough,» Chris’ authoritative voice seemed to be the only thing that could calm the atmosphere; «you, go back to your room.» he told you in a scolding tone.

«What?!» you whined, «I didn’t do anything!» you added, trying to wiggle out of Hyunjin’s hold once again.

«Don’t challenge my authority,» Chris shortly admonished you, his stern gaze not leaving any room to debate his decision, before turning his attention towards Minho, «you’re going to your room as well.»

«What?!» Minho asked in astonishment, not believing his Captain’s orders.

«I don’t want to see the two of you on deck until at least tomorrow morning.» Chris added, and that was your call to understand that the argument was officially over.

Hyunjin had offered to accompany you to your room, and as soon as you were about to walk out the door, you slightly turned towards Minho: you placed your index finger on your lower eyelid, tugging on the skin as you shortly sticked out your tongue as well. Still, you immediately turned around, so that you couldn’t see Changbin struggling not to laugh, reaching out to stop Minho once again, who was glancing at him with a murderous look.

“I want to go home,” you whined to yourself as soon as you were sitting on your bed once again; you laid down on your back, missing the sensation of Cleo immediately walking up and cuddle at your side. You wondered what happened back home, even though you were certain that your cat had found a way out of your apartment, since the window was still open when you had fallen asleep, however, what about your friends? Was someone worried about your sudden disappearance? Moreover, judging by the amount of days that had passed, you had most definitely lost your job.

«Ah, I hope they choose a nice pic of me if I made it to the news as a missing person.» you mumbled to yourself, your gaze lost in the wooden tiles of your ceiling.

“I could draw tiny lines on the wall to count the days I’m spending on here,” the sudden idea popped up in your mind, only for you to abandon it as quickly as it came. First of all, you didn’t have a knife – let alone a dagger or a sword, and therefore it would be impossible for you to engrave marks in the wall, most importantly, what if they found out and you had to repay for the things you’ve damaged? Those were the basic things happening back home, and although you were unsure about various dynamics of the world you were in, you didn’t want to try your luck. Chris looked scary while pissed off, and you read about how cruel he could be, you definitely needed him on your side.

“I could try to run away as soon as we reach the first port,” you wondered, but that option was discarded as well; although touching land was the only thing to confirm the shifting theory, you didn’t know what could have happened if it was the truth. Abduction and prostitution were sadly pretty much real in that world as well, and once again, you decided that the safest option was to stick around Chris and his crew; after all, what could harm you if he was in charge of basically everything and everyone sailing above the water’s surface?

Minho’s menacious glare appeared in your mind, and you reached out to grab the pillow from under your neck just to slam it against your face, “it’s not like I can throw a meteor at him, I’m not Zhongli,”, you thought, before suddenly sitting up in bed. «Who’s going to do my daily commissions in Genshin Impact now?!» you mumbled to yourself, thinking about all the time you’ve spent playing – time that of course had been wasted due to what happened.

Someone knocked on your door, and you genuinely wondered about pretending to be asleep in order to avoid giving explanation about what happened at dinner; nevertheless, you allowed the person in.

«Hi there,» Felix greeted with his usual cheerful tone, «I heard you caused quite a riot today.» he added, placing a small tray with a glass of water and a plate of stew on the small table next to your bed; you sighed, falling back to the bed and hoping that those blankets could swallow your frame and teleport you back home.

«I didn’t do anything, Felix,» you clarified, «Minho just hates me for no reason.» «Well..» «Please, don’t tell me this is the part where you say things like “he hasn’t always been like this”, or something.» you immediately added, preventing him from talking any further.

«Nah, he’s always been like this.» Felix quickly shook his head, sitting on the small mattress and next to your knees; he tapped your thigh twice, telling you to sit up so that you could eat dinner. «Keep up that attitude though, it’s funny to watch.» he chuckled, his face quietly shifting into a concerned frown as he noticed how you kept playing with your food instead of actually eating it.

Maybe from the outside your interactions with Minho were unusual enough to be considered funny, but to you they were incredibly stressful.

First of all, Minho had always been your favourite character, and you would have never imagined that he could despise your presence so much; most importantly, he had always been described as a whole different person, and you found yourself wondering why you wanted to be accepted by him so much. You were aware that late at night the dining room became the meeting point where some pirates gathered to drink and gamble, both because you had read it in the novel and because some sleepless nights you had passed in front of its door as you were walking towards the deck, hearing the echo of thunderous laughter or the loud chatter of the ones who lost and were unhappy with the rules. Sometimes the door wasn’t even completely close, and as you peeked inside on your way through the corridor, you could see Minho joke around and laugh with the others, thing that always made you feel sad and somehow, lonely.

«Aren’t you hungry?» Felix gently asked, noticing how you went silent all of a sudden. «It’s not that funny, though: he acts like I’m going to annihilate everyone while you sleep and well – he basically adores you.» you ignored his question, instead referring to the fact that he was the only one he didn’t threaten to kill anytime Lix called him “Min Min”.

«I’ll tell you a super secret secret,» Felix started to whisper, and you shifted your gaze on his lips, making sure that you could effectively understand what he was about to say, «me and Minho are half brothers.»

«What?!» you immediately shrieked out of disbelief, that was never mentioned in the novel! You clearly recalled their background stories: Minho was a bounty hunter, while Felix was… Felix… Well, he was…

“Now that I think of it, Felix’s past hasn’t been mentioned, not even once.” your questioning gaze met Felix, who eagerly nodded at the silent questions in your eyes.

«Our mother remarried,» he explained, before interrupting himself, «now that I think of it, mom and Minho’s father weren’t married – well, that’s not important.» Felix dismissively waved his hand in front of himself, and for the next hour, you had eventually started eating as you listened to his stories about him and Minho; despite all the times you wanted to clarify that “yes, I already know this part,” you kept silent, smiling at Felix’s eagerness and at the affection towards his brother that you could feel through his words.

«He’s really amazing,» he praised, «he’s always protected me since we were kids – you know, my… hair colour is a bit unusual.» he admitted, recalling the times when Minho would come home covered in bruises because he had protected Felix from being bullied.

«It’s beautiful, though,» you immediately replied, making Felix widen his eyes in sudden surprise, «you look like you've walked out of a fairy tale... and really, it suits you.» you added, making the pirate smile with a sad smile.

«I often said I could dye it, but Minho was always against the idea.» he said, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

“So, hair dye exist in this world as well?” the gears in your brain started to spin and twirl as you thought; once again, it had never been mentioned in the novel, but you thought that the author didn’t need to, since the story revolved around Chris’ point of view.

«Get some rest, princess,» Felix excused himself, collecting the now empty tray as he stood up; you nodded, the side of your lips curling into a small smile at how different the nickname sounded as it was spoken by the two brothers, «I’ll try to talk to him.» he reassured, and for a second, you decided to believe him.

Much to your dismay, nothing had changed after a week, leaving you to your usual routine; however, you had to admit that you barely saw Minho around, and when you did, you adverted your gaze before he could meet yours. It was as if, unlike the first days, he was keeping his distance as well, and you were grateful to Felix for it. “If you can’t defeat them, become their friend, some said!” you thought, “well, I failed miserably.”

Felix was now basically what you could call your best friend, as he had declared more than once; he always insisted for you to sit next to him when you were eating, and once you were finished with your daily chores, he would explain the most random things to you. Actually, you were incredibly grateful to him because you were finally able to tie a knot on a rope, thing which would have come handy if you ever decided to escape.

Most importantly, you and Felix had something really particular in common, and that was your admiration towards Chris’ and Leana’s relationship. The poor couple could have been simply standing in front of each other talking about the most random things and you would say something like «they’re so pretty I could punch myself in the face,» immediately echoed by Felix that would reply «wait for it, he’s gonna move a strand of hair behind her ear because of the wind,» and the both of you would dreamily coo at them as Chris did exactly what Felix had predicted.

Seungmin was still visiting you every now and then – mostly when you pretended that your head hurt because you saw Minho appearing out of nowhere and he was definitely too close for comfort, but nonetheless he spent most of his days in his study.

Jeongin was mostly spending his time with Seungmin, now, the older pirate insisting that he needed an assistant because he was tired to everything on his own, and Jeongin eagerly following his orders.

Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin were now seeing you in a whole different light: the day you fearlessly challenged Minho seemed to have made you earn their respect, and they often tried to lure you into joining a gamble match with them. «Thanks, but I don’t know the rules,» you dismissively answered every time, and as soon as one of them suggested they could teach you, you immediately added that you didn’t have anything valuable you could gamble on.

Leana was more or less, an addiction to the piece of furniture in your small room; anytime she wasn’t with Chris, she would keep you company, telling you about the most various and dangerous adventures they have lived while sailing. You eagerly listened to her, often interrupting her to ask for more details, thing that she never seemed to mind, answering your question with the same eagerness. Leana’s stories were a perfect indicator for you to deduce that between what happened in the book and your arrival on the ship, at least three years seemed to have passed; years in which Chris’ domain on the sea had become even more clear.

«It’s like being on of those cruise ships; no one dares attacking us and we can do whatever we want to, I love it.» she confessed, voicing her hopes about you liking being on board as well; you didn’t trust yourself, and therefore you simply nodded.

«Come on, girls night,» Leana had announced one day as she sat on your bed, and you furrowed your eyebrows in obvious reluctance, familiar with the concept of her words; «has anyone caught your eye?» Leana’s eyes seemed to glimmer in curiosity, and you found yourself sigh in deject.

«Yes, I mean, no.» you spoke, unclear, confusing yourself as well. What were you supposed to say? You’ve never looked at anyone under that particular light, after all!

“Well, actually…” you immediately stopped the train of your thoughts: Minho was undoubtedly charming and handsome, but he was behaving like a complete jerk towards you, and therefore you sighed, resigning yourself to your fate as you met Leana’s curious gaze.

«Minho is cute, but don’t tell him I said so, I particularly like my head attached to my neck.» you confessed, panicking as you saw her eyes widen in disbelief.

«I would have bet money on Felix!» she yelled, just to lower her voice mid-sentence, staring at you in complete astonishment.

«Felix is really cute, but everything’s really very… platonic.» you explained, avoiding saying something she would have found too weird and incomprehensible like “he’s always nice andhe gives me really good vibes!”

However, Leana seemed to ponder your words about Minho, confessing that one morning, she saw Felix and Minho talking very animately, as if they were arguing about something. «Now that I think about it, it was the morning after you’ve been both confined to your room.» she added, and she confirmed as well the fact that the pirate seemed to been avoiding your presence as well.

Leana had soon returned to the Captain’s quarters, leaving you in the loneliness of your room; once again, you couldn’t sleep and therefore, you found yourself headed towards the deck of the Golden Fleece.

The night sky was clear, the stars seemed a bright blanket that made you feel a tiny bit less lonelier; you tried to smile at the thought that in your life, you had never seen so many stars due to the industrialization and the fact that there was always a source of light around the city. On your way to the deck you ended up both carrying one of the blankets in your room and stealing an apple from the storage room, and in the end you were sitting alone in a dark corner of the ship, completely hidden from the helmsman’s eyes and from the few pirates who were awake and in charge of taking care of the ship as long as the others were asleep – or gambling.

As your gaze lost itself in the darkness ahead of you, your thoughts inevitably wandered to dangerous places, and you found yourself silently crying because you missed home. Although in the past days you have done your best to avoid even the faintest traces of intrusive thoughts, it was probably time to face the truth; even though it seemed impossible, you ended up in a fantasy novel, and of course the historical period was completely different from the one you were living in, to the point of not having the comforts you were used to have in your everyday life. A phone, internet, a hairdryer, heating, a microwave… Despite the fact that you were slowly getting used to this kind of life, you madly wanted to go back home, and the thing that completely broke your heart was the fact that you highly doubted it would even be remotely possible. After all, the lady at the bookshop had clearly said that you bought the only copy of the novel, copy which was currently still on your coffee table in another dimension.

Completely engrossed in your crying session, you didn’t notice that someone had approached your trembling figure.

«See? I didn’t lie when I said you were probably a thief.» Minho’s voice shook you out of your train of thoughts, but you weren’t in the right mind to answer to his constant teasing; you stared both at him and the apple in your hand – apple that you ended up biting only once, just to wordlessly focus your gaze once again on the darkness in front of the ship.

The moon was high up in the sky, and Minho could definitely see the fact that you were crying, especially because you weren’t doing a good job to hide your occasional hiccups; he has never seen you so vulnerable, after all you’ve been arguing like dog and cat since the day they had saved you, but yet, he breathed a long sigh, before eventually walking closer to you, crouching down so that you were more or less at the same eye-level.

«Are you okay?» Minho questioned, every trace of hostility suddenly disappearing from his voice, and he saw you simply shook your head because no, you were definitely not okay. «Can I sit next to you?» he asked again, and waited for you to answer before he dared to move.

«Why, so you can throw me off deck as soon as I cry too loudly?» you spat with annoyance, and Minho scoffed as a silent answer. If he were to be honest, he wasn’t doing it for you, but for Felix; his brother had constantly told him to give you a chance, but the pirate kept ignoring him; however, for some weird reason he didn’t want to think about, the sight of you curled up against the wall just to cry your eyes out didn’t please him as he originally thought. «Yeah, something like that.» Minho shrugged, before sitting next to you. A somewhat comfortable silence fell on the corner you had been secretly occupying, a silence made of you occasionally hiccuping trying to hide a sob just to wipe your tears with part of your blanket and Minho completely silence as his brain tried to come up with a reasonable question about why you seemed so unconsolable.

«Has something happened in the kitchen? Did Felix say something bad?» Minho gently tried, even if he doubted that was the case, since Felix was the first among the people who seemed to be completely smitten with your presence; confirming his thoughts, he saw you shook your head without voicing an actual answer.

«Have you been having nightmares?» he questioned again, his left hand hesitantly scratching his left thigh; «it happens a lot, especially the first times you sail.» again, you wordlessly shook your head, and silence fell once again.

It went on for minutes, Minho coming up with the most various questions and you simply shaking your head because he never got it right.

«I miss my hairdryer.» you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

«Your… your what?» Minho quietly echoed, confusion dripping from his voice.

«My hairdryer,» you repeated, moving your right hand in the air just to mimic a general shape of one, «it’s made like this, and we use it to blow hot hair on our hair to make it dry faster, it works with electric – oh, never mind, you already think I’m a lunatic witch.» your voice trembled at the end of the sentence, and you ended up wiping more tears escaping the corner of your eyes, as Minho was staring at you with an indecipherable gaze.

«Tell me more,» he gently spoke – almost in a hesitant way, urging you to go on, «about your crazy stories, I want to hear more.»

«And give you extra reasons to make fun of me on a daily basis? No, thank you.» you bitterly answered, and Minho’s gentle smile slowly vanished from his lips. The pirate kept studying your features, pensive, and few seconds later his right hand was hovering in front of your face, his pinky finger outstretched.

«I won’t, I promise. I call truce.» he said, and for the first time you turned your head to glance at him, unconsciously smiling at the sight of a pirate using pinky promises as a way to seal official promises; it was as if you could feel your heart tremble, the sight of the Minho you used to adore while reading your favourite book was suddenly not that unreachable anymore, and something in his determined gaze illuminated by the moon made you trust him.

Unbeknownst to you, while intertwining your pinky finger with his, a little part of your fate had changed forever.

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

Eventually, you and Minho shortly ended up bonding over your mutual love for cats. You described her to him, explaining that to you, she was indeed unique and beautiful; her black fur was occasionally painted with ginger spots, and her eyes were a light shade of green.

«She always looked incredibly pissed off, just like me.» you scoffed a laugh, and you heard Minho chuckle softly at your words.

«To think you were going to face me without a weapon, you sure do have some guts,» he commented, and you answered with an exasperated sigh, «you could ask Jisung to teach you a trick or two.» your head immediately turned towards him at the unexpected suggestion. Minho simply shrugged, explaining that you would be more useful on deck if something were to happen.

«I used to have three cats before I choose to sail with Chris.» he admitted then, changing the topic of your conversation, smiling to himself.

«I know.» you answered without thinking about it too much; only when you felt Minho’s inquisitive stare on your face, you panicked. Clearly you couldn’t tell him that you knew a lot of details about his life before he started being a pirate because you read it in a novel, and therefore you simply settled for a simple white lie known as: «Felix told me about it.»

«I miss my hair conditioner as well,» you admitted, «I even got the special edition with keratin – you know with the golden plastic jar and everything, and never got to use it more than twice.» for at least half of the night, you ended up explaining Minho every detail of what life was like where you were living; skyscrapers, air conditioning, electricity, supermarkets, videogames and malls, along with every kind of food you ended up craving, Minho had patiently listened to your rambles, occasionally asking about few clarifications every now and then.

«You know, princess, I still think you have flowers growing in your head.» Minho spoke after the two of you eventually managed to finish conversation topics; your heart sank to your stomach at his words, and of course, you felt like crying again.

«However…» Minho spoke again, his tone a little more firmer than before, as if he understood that his words hurt you, «your stories are a bit too much filled with details to be completely made up.»

«So?» you questioned him, glancing at him while leaning your head against the wooden surface behind your shoulders.

«So,» Minho echoed, mirroring your actions, so that you were staring at each other, «I think that somewhere in that flower field, there’s a little bit of truth.» a relieved smile erupted on your features, and you felt genuinely happy about the fact that finally Minho decided to take you seriously.

Despite the fact that you had managed to calm down, neither of you dared to move, and as you kept talking about your life, you ended up sharing your blanket with the pirate, whose hands were now as cold as ice.

Somewhere during the few hours remaining before dawn, you ended up falling asleep, unconsciously leaning against Minho’s shoulders, who didn’t move in order not to wake you up. However, as soon as the pirate saw a small glimpse of light starting to illuminate the sky as a signal of a new day, he gently picked you up just to carry you to your bedroom.

«Fucking finally, Min Min,» Felix’s groggy whisper called out from Minho’s shoulders; the younger had just woken up, and to be honest, he was convinced about being still asleep as the first thing he saw were his brother – who claimed to hate you, carrying you – who claimed to hate him, bridal style and soundly asleep towards your room. «Not a word, Lix.» Minho had simply answered, not bothering to stop.

Few days later, everyone was aware about the drastic change of Minho’s behaviour towards you, since the pirate went to completely ignore your presence to greet you occasionally. You found yourself smiling anytime it happened, your smile vanishing as soon as you could feel two different set of piercing gazes on your face; on one side, Leana was looking at you with pure excitement in her eyes, as to say «did you see it?» while on the other side, Felix was following the scene with a knowing smile, happy about his brother’s eventual change of heart.

Moreover, you had to admit to yourself that your mood was significantly better since you didn’t have to constantly watch your back, to the point where you found yourself thinking that if things kept going like this, you could have definitely got used to this new life. To be completely honest, you could already picture yourself trying to introduce some of your modern technology into this world, becoming the cliché mad scientist holed up in her laboratory, shouting a loud «it could work!» followed by a manic laughter as soon as you managed to create something useful.

Taking a small break from your daily chores, you decided to take a stroll on deck, enjoying what seemed to be the last days of summer; the days had already begun to shorten and in the back of your mind, you wondered how cold could it get on a pirate ship during winter, but you weren’t sure you wanted to know an actual answer, when out the corner of you eye, you saw them.

At first, you thought that either your mind was playing tricks on you or you were hallucinating, but once you turned your complete attention to the sea, you distinctly saw that there was a small group formed by seven girls not too far from where you were, casually sitting on some random pieces of wood – most definitely what remained of a sunken ship, while brushing their luscious hair; you narrowed your eyes as if trying to get a better view, because you could swear that all of them had a long fish tail.

“Mermaids?” you wondered; after all, you didn’t know how this world worked in the first place, and based on Minho’s accusations to you, for all you knew, they could be more than a superstition.

«Sirens!» the loud shout from the crow’s nest seemed to alert everyone, confirming that you weren’t hallucinating, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do in this situation; you saw some pirates running back to their quarters, as if it was a desperate attempt not to be lured by their voices.

Few minutes later, the situation was definitely taking a drastic and terrifying turn: some pirates were throwing themselves off deck just to try their luck swimming towards the sirens and therefore swimming towards their death, while the others kept soundlessly walking toward the railing as if they were possessed, their eyes void of any emotion.

Quirking a brow you stared at the group of sirens once again, silently admiring their beauty and their pretty tail. However something wasn’t adding up: you could clearly see their lips move, but you seemed to be the only one who couldn’t hear their chant.

Leana’s shoulder harshly bumping against yours was what made you wake up from your silent daze; like anyone else, her eyes were unfocused, and she had already thrown one leg over the railing.

«Wait, no!» yelling at her to stop, you covered her ears with your hands out of instinct, when the unthinkable happened: the fog that seemed to cloud Leana’s gaze had vanished as soon as you touched her, and she looked at both herself and you with a puzzled expression.

«What’s happening?» she questioned, confused, «why can’t I hear them?» at her question, it was as if your thoughts began to align, quickly forming a more or less clever answer; could it be that it was because you were from another dimension? You immediately tested your wild guess, wrapping around her wrist the hair tie you always kept on your wrist.

«Still nothing?» you asked, helping her safely climb back on deck, so that no one else could drag her in the water out of accident.

«I can see them singing, but I can’t hear them,» she confirmed with astonishment, glancing at the small elastic band now adorning her wrist, «is this some sort of talisman?» she questioned again but you kept silent, not sure about what you should have answered.

“Wait, if this managed to help her, this means that…”

«Leana, where are my clothes,? You know, the ones I was wearing when you found me in the sea?» you immediately questioned her: if things really were what they seemed, maybe you has a chance to save everyone.

«Come with me.» Leana immediately replied, and shortly after you both raced to the Captain’s quarters as if you were running against time.

«I have an idea, but that will make me sound like a lunatic witch» you quoted Minho, before explaining yourself, «we need to shred them in as many pieces we can and stick them inside the other’s clothes.» you kept your jeans in your hands, handing her both the cotton t-shirts you were wearing at home; however, there was no sign of mock in her eyes.

«You already saved my life, I trust you, witch or not.» she encouraged, and after nodding and each other Leana grabbed two of Chris’ daggers, and after handing one to you as well, you both ran back on deck.

“This is so wrong,” you thought, “I’m about to act like a typical heroine and I don’t have a catchphrase to say!” adrenaline was running trough your veins to the point of making you delirious, and you mentally tried to come up with an outstanding idea as fast as you could?

“How about “for Frodo”?… No, that would be plagiarism,” you kept thinking as you and Leana closed the Captain’s quarters room behind your shoulders, “I got it, “Geronimo!”… Nah, too corny.”

«I’ll take the right side and you take the left side?» Leana urged, already cutting some fabric out of your t-shirt with her dagger; she snapped you out of your thoughts, and your eyes immediately went back on the scenery in front of you.

No more than thirty pirates were left – a quarter of the crew, and much to your dismay, you noticed from the corner of your eye how Chris, Seungmin and Changbin were already in the water.

«Hey Leana, you know what we say in Europe before doing things like this?» your heart was hammering in your chest to the point you were certain it was trying to escape your body.

«Uh... May Margoria have mercy on us?» she tried, as the both of you started walking in opposite directions.

«No, no, it’s even better,» you chuckled at your own thoughts, before encouraging the both of you with a short and simple: «it’s Britney, bitch.»

From that moment, you and Leana were running like two desperate women on a mission, and you tried to ignore the pain that your heart was feeling as you were repeatedly cutting your pair of favourite jeans.

“It’s for a fucking good cause,” you thought motivating yourself, urging your legs to move faster.

Actually, if you and Leana were feeling like two heroes out of an adventure novel, the sight from the outside looked really bizarre: the deck was completely silent as the pirates were walking like zombies, and the only noise was the one made from your heels as you frantically ran back and fort, not to mention that you were occasionally screaming «tag, you’re it!» before running towards the next pirate.

Moreover, as soon as someone of the crew managed to wake up, nor you nor Leana ever stopped to explain what was going on; you just pushed a few pieces of uncommon fabric against their chest just to shout an order for them to follow. You could feel your lungs burn, and although you desperately wanted to stop and catch your breath, you saw that Minho was in the same position Leana had been in few minutes earlier and you quickly urged your legs to run faster, somehow.

“Why the fuck I never did jogging while I was home?” you internally cursed yourself, but the most important thing was that you managed to stop Minho by a harsh grip on his strong bicep. Minho’s eyes increasingly focused, and he looked at you with bewilderment; you didn’t give him time to ask anything, because you thrusted the only piece of fabric you had left in his hand.

«See this? This was my favourite pair of jeans,» you spoke, your breath ragged due to the fact that you had been running without stopping for more time than you were used to, Minho was about to question why he couldn’t hear the sirens anymore, when you interrupted him again, «let go of this damn denim fabric, and I’ll kill you.»

«What’s going on?» Minho finally questioned, swooning his leg over the railing so that he was once again safely on deck, but before you could answer, Leana had quickly walked towards you with Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and few of the pirates who had managed to wake up, still clutching the piece of fabric as instructed.

By now, you had managed to save everyone who was still on deck, however, you still had a big problem: the majority of your crew – including the Captain, was still swimming towards the sirens.

«What now?» Leana questioned, her concerned eyes locked on her husband.

«I don’t know.» your shoulders fell as you admitted disheartened, your trembling hands still desperately holding Minho’s hands over what was left of your favourite pair of jeans. «Aren’t you still wearing that thing underneath your shirt?» Leana questioned, and your right hand reflexively touched your bra over your linen shirt. “Not my Victoria’s Secret…” you thought, but Leana quickly dismissed her own idea. «It’s not like we can throw ourselves down there, we’ll never reach them in time.» she added, and a nervous silence fell once again. The pirates kept silent, not daring to interrupt your conversation with Leana; no one knew what was happening but for all they knew, they owed their life to the both of you. However, the sirens have been focusing their attention on your presence for a while, and as you were considering some stupid and wild idea out of panic, the sirens had stopped singing; the pirates in the water woke up immediately from their daze, immediately yelling to each other to swim back to the Golden Fleece, and your head started to spin with confusion.

Apparently, for whatever reason, the sirens decided they weren’t hungry anymore, and therefore decided to leave, disappearing under the surface of water. Unbeknownst to you, those sirens knew about travelers like you, for it was not the first time that someone immune to their alluring voices had defeated them.

The pirates were now climbing on deck, and if it weren’t for Minho’s arms quickly wrapping around your waist, you would have fallen on your knees as the rush of adrenaline left your body altogether.

«What a week, huh?» you joked, your voice low enough only for the pirate to hear.

«It’s monday morning, princess.» Minho absently replied, studying your exhausted features and actually concerned about the state you were in.

Needless to say, less than an hour later – as soon as everyone had changed out of their soaked clothes, you found yourself in the Captain’s quarters with nine pair of eyes studying you once again; however, this time, the atmosphere was completely different.

«Although we are grateful to you, I believe we need an explanation.» Chris simply questioned; even though his voice remained polite, you could easily notice that he was demanding the truth.

«Are you really a witch?» Hyunjin suggested curiously and without hostility; you shook your head no, and your gaze briefly locked with Minho, who gave you a short nod, as to encourage you to tell them what you had told him as well.

«I’m not a witch, I.. » you sighed, what were you supposed to say? You definitely couldn’t break out the news that they were characters from a novel, but you could definitely tell them part of the truth, «I’m from another world. Or just another dimension, I don’t know. The thing is, at home everything works very different from here and… I really don’t know what to say. I ended up falling asleep in my house and waking up in the sea, right before you saved me.»

The room was silent for some seconds, before they eventually started discussing your explanation, but overall, everyone seemed to believe you.

«We are in your debt.» Chris announced, standing up from his chair, and you felt nervous all of a sudden; you loved his character and how reliable he was despite being a pirate, however, you always thought that he was a little bit too dramatic, especially in these kind of situations.

«No, no. We’re good buddy, really.» you anxiously waved your hands in front of you, as if to shake away the thought of having a whole crew of pirates indebted to you, «besides, you saved me first, I returned the favor, we’re even.»

«At least, allow us to help you!» Leana insisted, reiterating the fact that if they were alive was exclusively because of you.

«Do you remember how you ended up here?» Seungmin added, agreeing with Leana.

«I bought a book – a very specific one, and somehow I ended up shifting.»you had shortly explained; the information sent them into another brief discussion among themselves.

«Maybe fate is really on your side,» Chris commented, «we’ll be arriving to O’dyllita in few days; the capital – O’draxxia is known for having the biggest and best-stocked library of all known land.» the Captain explained that you could try visit there, to see if you could find anything regarding shifting dimension.

«Of course, if you don’t, you’ll be welcome to stay with us!» Jeongin had quickly added, and you found yourself nodding at his eagerness, thanking everyone else as well.

«Another thing,» Leana suddenly spoke, as if a thought had suddenly came to her mind, «who is that “Britney” you mentioned earlier? Is she a goddess from your world?» she innocently questioned, but you couldn’t help but find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation you got yourself in.

«More or less.» you admitted, and she seemed content with the answer.

The day had eventually fallen back into the same routine rather quickly, making you realize that this kind of situations weren’t that uncommon; however, every now and then some of the pirates would greet you, thanking you for saving their life before going on with their day.

«Excuse me, princess,» an unfamiliar voice called out, and you immediately turned your head. One of the pirates was standing not so far from you; he was definitely older than you, even if despite his youthful appearance his beard and his hair was almost completely grey. He hesitantly outstretched his hand towards you, and you curiously examined the small necklace in the palm of his hand. It was definitely plain looking, a thin looking chord with a too much familiar charm attached to it; without thinking, you took a step forward to take a better look.

Turns out – for the second time that day, that you weren’t hallucinating things: the small charm was indeed a piece of fabric from your clothes, now neatly braided together as to form a tiny charm.

«My old man was a tailor, so I learned a thing or two from him,» you patiently glanced at him, waiting for him to explain himself further as you glanced back and forth from his face to his hand, «I ended up making a talisman for everyone out of the fabric you gave us, since the Captain and Leana explained to us what you did fpr us,» you kept silent, not understanding why he was handing one to you as well, «I know you don’t need one, but we want you to have one as well.»

«“We”?» you echoed; glancing around, you noticed that few other pirates were definitely pretending to do their chores just to curiously overlook the situation, wondering what your reaction might have been.

«It’s a way to tell you that you’re in the crew,» Leana excitedly spoke, appearing out of nowhere and hugging your shoulder, «you saved a whole lot of pirates, you know what it means? You’re a pirate, love.»

«What?» you questioned, hesitantly reaching out to grab the necklace from the pirate’s outstretched hand, who thanked you for accepting his humble gift.

“Holy shit, I’m the hero of the day,” you thought, trying to process the fact that a pirate had just thanked you for accepting a necklace made out of clothes from another dimension.

«For your information,» Felix’s sudden deep voice made you turn around in surprise, since the new information had made your head spin, «it was a unanimous decision.» he clarified; as you happened to lock gaze with Minho, he simply winked at you with a mischievous smile, and you could swear that for the first time, you felt the butterflies in your stomach do somersaults.

The secret escapades you occasionally had with Minho during the night ended up being a habit, and as the weather started to become colder, you eventually decided to move things to your room; more than once, you and Minho ended up falling asleep after nights spent talking about the most various topics and every time, Minho would wake up before dawn just to sneak back to his room.

«Do you still think I’m a lunatic siren?» you quietly mumbled one night, quite scared of the possible affirmative answer. Minho was sitting opposite of you on your bed, your knees almost brushing against each other’s.

«I don’t.» Minho honestly answered after what seemed to be an eternal silence; he was still staring at you with an indecipherable gaze that made you feel extremely small, but it was significantly softer now. You were certain that something in your relationship with Minho had drastically changed since the night he found you crying alone, and somehow, even if you didn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, you were happy he was the one who found you nonetheless.

Above all – most importantly, since Minho’s behaviour towards you had changed and gradually started to become softer, you could swear you felt your feelings drift towards him at a slow but steady speed. To state the obvious, he was handsome, and you often found yourself looking at him as he was talking with the others on deck, the wind blowing through his hair and his clothes making him look like a runaway Prince from a fairytale; he was also funny and an extremely good listener, and the more you spent time together, the more your heart would fill with feelings for him, just like a slow tide at noon.

«Do you believe me, then?» you mumbled, as if you were trying your luck; despite you told everyone that you came from another dimension, the topic of your conversations with Minho were a secret, and he was completely aware about that. Even though you desperately wanted him to believe your words, you couldn’t help but trying to imagine how you would react if you were in Minho’s shoes and of course, you had to admit that you would have your good doses of suspicions as well.

«I’m not really sure I can understand everything you tell me,» he admitted, «but I really want to try.» you found yourself genuinely smiling at his words.

A comfortable silence fell once again, and you searched for Minho’s eyes in the partial darkness of the place; three small candles were lightning up the room, creating an intimate atmosphere while allowing you to see each other just enough. «Thank you, Min Min.» you quietly mumbled, now definitely trying your luck; you knew that the only person allowed to call him like that was Felix, and although your relationship was completely different from how it started, you were certain that he would admonish you, telling you not to call him like that.

However, Minho’s reaction was definitely unexpected; his eyes met yours in less than a second, and despite the little lighting in the room, you could clearly see a sudden blush adorning both his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

«Wait, did you just…? No, nevermind,» Minho quickly dismissed, his unexpected flustered state was more than enough to make your cheeks flare up as well, «let’s suppose you ended up coming here from another dimension, why do you think it happened?» the conversation took another bittersweet turn, and you went back staring at your knees.

«I have no idea.» you confessed, disheartened, since you had wondered about that a concerning amount of times as well.

«Do you want to go back?» Minho questioned out of curiosity; he had immediately noticed how you eventually managed to find your place among the crew, and how you got along with everyone.

«I can’t even explain how much I want to.» you admitted, and before you could actually realize it, tears had started to escape your eyes.

«Hey, don’t cry, I’m sorry I brought that up,» Minho seemed to move towards you as if he had been hurt by a sudden static, «I didn’t want to make you cry.» he mumbled again, wiping your tears away as gently as he could, touching you as if you were made of frail glass despite his usual roughness. Eventually, he placed your pillow over his lap and you let him adjust your position enough that you could lay your head over it.

Minho kept gently stroking your hair with clumsy yet gentle movements – clearly unfamiliar with intimacy, lulling you to sleep while mumbling that «it’s okay, I’ll help you find a way,» or even «don’t cry, pretty princess, you’re safe now.»

That night was the first time that you and Minho willingly got so close physically, and you never expected for his touch to feel as comforting as it did; although you had stopped crying few minutes after you were laying on his lap, you didn’t want for that interaction to stop, and therefore you laid there, greedily taking all the unexpected affection Minho was showering you with.

Two days later, you were officially touching land; two days later, you were completely certain about the fact that you had shifted dimension – since there was a tiny part of your heart that still hoped you were having a really weird dream.

The port was large and full of people busy working; you looked around in amazement admiring everything: the small stalls of the market a little further on, people’s clothes, the type of architecture of the houses… However, something didn’t add up once again. There were various wooden signs hanging on the stalls, price indicators or more simply indicators of what could be found in each one of them, and despite the fact that the alphabet was a strange combination o weird symbols you’ve never seen in your life, you could understand them; fabrics, groceries, swords, you could read everything, was it another special ability you gained while shifting? “This is crazy,” you thought as you kept looking around yourself, “it’s like I chosen a default language in a videogame.”

Minho seemed to have noticed the puzzled expression on your face as you were glancing around, and quickly got to your side. «Not like it’s important for us, but can you read and write?» he questioned, watching as you hesitantly nodded at him.

«I’m not sure about the writing part,» you answered, looking around and not quite believing your eyes, «but it turns out I can read!»

«That’s good,» Minho’s sudden gentle smile made you feel incredibly flustered, and you shortly played with your fingertips since you didn’t know what you were supposed to answer, «I’ll see you tonight, then.» he added, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Before you could question his words, Leana and Chris had joined you, the latter informing you that he had already booked a carriage for both you and Leana.

“That’s it? They’re going to leave me here?” you met Minho’s gaze, just to switch it quickly towards Leana, who had reached out to hold your hand, gently tugging you towards her.

«I believe someone forgot to tell you,» she said, admonishing Minho with a stern gaze, «O’draxxia, the Capital, is a city in which men cannot enter, meaning that we have all the day for ourselves!»

The carriage ride lasted a little more than an hour, and both you and Leana kept staring out of the window, amazed by the scenery surrounding the two of you; it was the first time for Leana as well to venture into O’dyllita, and just like you, she was overly excited to finally visit O’draxxia, since she had often heard about it.

«From what I know, almost everyone in the city is a priestess,» she had explained, the two of you never looking at each other since your attention was completely engrossed towards opposite directions, «and they say the library is so huge that there are pillars as big as towers that are used as bookshelves!»

Despite the dense and rich vegetation, the landscape seemed to have a tremendously lonely air; in the distance you could see ruins of old structures that looked like castles or fortresses, clearly uninhabited and reclaimed by vegetation. Overall, the landscape almost seemed fiabesque, even if you couldn’t glimpse a trace of a living soul for kilometres. Just as Leana had said, O’draxxia was entirely populated by women, and all of them looked mesmerizing and stunning; some of them greeted you and Leana with a court nod, just like they did with the other women that were visiting the city. Despite the fact that the city was populated and animated by the priestesses and occasional tourists, the city gave you a serene yet lonely feeling. The houses were simple and elegant, made of grey bricks with bright green plants growing along the walls, covering some parts with elegant red and orange flowers. Both you and Leana followed one of the priestess’ indications to reach the library, as the two of you kept glancing around in utter wonder as you were walking.

«I’m really glad we get along,» Leana spoke out of the blue as you were strolling around town, headed towards the library, interlocking her arm with yours; you sent her a glance, only to start once again to focus on the unfamiliar scenery in front of your eyes, «we tried to let other girls on our ship, but it didn’t end well.»

«Why not?» you questioned out of curiosity, your gaze still focused on the unfamiliar flowers decorating the streets; the novel you’ve read ended as soon as Chris and Leana got their happy ending, so her words were definitely something you didn’t know about.

«They ended up liking Chris a little bit too much, and you know…» the innocent smile on Leana’s lips was a stark contrast to the gesture she made: she ran her index finger over her neck horizontally, and you suddenly widened your eyes, gulping nervously.

«You… did you kill them?» you whispered, only for her ears to hear, not quite knowing how to feel about it.

«And threw them in the sea,» she proudly clarified with a wink, «for all I know, they could be the sirens that attacked us.» her tone was as nonchalant as if she was talking about the weather, and you furrowed your eyebrows, familiar with what she was implying, since you clearly recalled the author mentioning it once.

Apparently, mermaids – or mostly known as sirens, were the women thrown off ships because of the common belief about “having a woman on boat brings bad luck”, and therefore, as those poor women sank to the bottom of the sea, they committed themselves to their rage and their desire of revenge. You clearly remember how that paragraph made you quite uncomfortable, empathizing with those women as they rightfully wanted to take revenge on the people that killed them without reason. Moreover, the author described how they started to change underwater, their lungs adapting to the water until they could breathe and their tied legs eventually became a tail over time. They drowned sailors and pirates in revenge, but especially, they seem to target the crew that did them wrong, until they could see the remaining of their ships at the bottom of the sea.

All of a sudden, one of your first conversations with Leana came to your mind. «So, what do you think about Chris?» she had questioned with an earnest smile, the both of you sitting on deck as you watched him ordering the others around.

«He’s awesome,» you immediately answered, excitedly, «Felix told me he’s in charge of each route of the whole sea, and he’s basically around my age. He’s really awesome for that!» you had excitedly explained, avoiding to mention too intricate details you read in the novel.

«He really is, don’t steal him from me though!» she had laughed back then, gently nudging your shoulders with hers in an almost friendly gesture.

«I wouldn’t dare,» you immediately scoffed, «you’re basically the perfect match! moreover, he’s not really my type.»

Only now you realized all the things that could have gone so incredibly wrong if your interaction had gone wrong back then, and you glanced at her once again. Leana was now gazing around the town in amazement, since you knew that she had never been here as well; you instinctively scoffed a laugh, to thing that you believed Minho was the biggest threat among the crew.

Not to mention that the surprises were definitely not over; shortly after, Leana asked you if you believed in soulmates.

«I think I do,» you confessed; it was definitely one of your favourite genres to read about, but you couldn’t admit that to her, «why?»

«I’ve been thinking about it lately, but I never had anyone to talk about it…» she admitted.

“I wonder why,” you silently commented, but kept silent.

«Sometimes I have the feeling that me and Chris were meant to be, you know?» she fondly smiled, her gaze lost somewhere in the scenery around the two of you as she was probably recalling one of the various memories she had created with her husband; you were about to answer something encouraging and motivational, when her next words definitely made your voice die in your throat. «I mean, I didn’t even like Chris when he brought me on the ship, let alone if I could imagine myself falling in love with him or even marrying him.» she admitted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait a fucking minute now,”

«What?» you asked in complete disbelief. Once again, you perfectly recalled you read that Chris and Leana were in love before she got romantically and dramatically stolen away from him; to be precise, Leana was engaged to another man, who she didn’t love.

However, Leana was standing in front of you, telling you a completely different part of the story, making you question if the things you’ve read on your couch were correct in the first place.

«I was engaged with an officer of the navy, and I loathed pirates at first; I accepted to go with Chris because I agreed with my fiancée that I would have made Chris vulnerable in some way.» Leana hesitantly confessed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to find an actual reply, «in the end I fell for him little by little, to the point where I couldn’t imagine my life without him.»

“What the hell,” you thought; you had stopped walking altogether, and were simply standing still in silence, a whirlwind of thoughts floating around your head as you were staring at Leana. You never read something like this in the book, but if we had to be honest, the book was following Chris’ point of view, but again, by the way Leana was described, she was meant to be the typical damsel in distress that runs away from an unhappy relationship to find her love.

However, in front of you stood Leana, a damsel that was very not in distress, a damsel who had a concerning series of murders weighting on her shoulders, whose original plan was to serve Chris’ head to the navy.

«I’m glad you married him,» you ended up blurting out, «you look really cute together.» Leana loudly laughed at your unexpected comment, and as the two of you started walking again, she hugged your arm a little closer to her side.

«Wanna know who’s cute?» her teasing tone made you sigh out of reflex, not sure whether you wanted to know the answer to her question, «You and Min Min.» she chanted, making you whine as an answer.

«I don’t like him like that, let’s just – let’s talk about it another time, okay?» you pleaded, hoping that she would fall for your suggestion so that you could keep avoiding the topic forever.

The moment you stepped in front of the library’s entrance, you couldn’t believe your eyes: it was as if a huge castle had been redecorated just to serve a new and better purpose. Leana didn’t lie when she said about the pillars being huge, and the more you ventured in, the more you felt overwhelmed; you loved books, and for a second, you thought that you could become a priestess just to have a chance to read every single book you could see, even if it would have took literally a lifetime. In the end, you ended up asking to a priestess for help, since you would have taken at least a whole day in order to find some useful information without asking for help.

«Books about teleportation?» the priestess had repeated your words, as if making sure she heard you loud and clear; you hesitantly nodded, feeling incredibly small under her gaze; she eventually nodded at the two of you, asking to follow her. Needless to say, you ended up walking your way on the stairs around one of the pillars, just to reach the highest bookshelf.

«It’s been a while since someone asked for that,» she said, trying to make conversation with the two of you, but only Leana was answering her various questions, since you were way too nervous to speak. As you reached the bookshelf, your shoulders immediately lowered in deject; there were only four books about teleportation, but no one of them were like the one you brought.

«Sadly, we only have these ones.» the priestess excused herself, quickly taking notice of your saddened expression; you immediately tried to smile, shaking your head and answering that it was okay.

«Are you sure you’re okay?» Leana whispered to you, as soon as the priestess begun to walk down the stairs on her own and was now out of sight; your gaze was still on the books, which you eventually tried to examine.

What if the cover was different because you were in a different dimension? However, as your fingers leafed through the pages, you couldn’t understand your feelings; you almost seemed happy about the fact that your task had failed, as if what you really wanted was to remain into this world.

«I am,» you nodded, seeing Leana’s concern vanish from her features, «I really am.»

The fact that your mission had failed meant only one thing: you and Leana were free to curiously look around as you pleased, and that’s exactly what you did. At the end of the day, once you were back in the carriage, you could swear you almost had a headache due to all the informations the both of you had tried to assimilate in your brain.

«What was that one again? Flat parsley and saffron?» she mumbled, massaging the side of her head.

«This planet is not flat was the first part,» you tiredly answered, mimicking her actions, «I don’t know where you got the parsley and saffron thing from.»

«It was the recipes book I wanted to steal.» she urged, trying to give you another hint, as if you hadn’t read an infinite quantitative of books within few hours.

«Oh, that one,» you hummed, recalling the moment where Leana had tried to see if the recipes book would fit under her shirt, saying that Felix would have loved it, «it was the recipe of saffron rice… There was no parsley, though.»

When you got off the carriage, Minho and Chris exchanged a quizzical glance as they saw the two of you look exhausted; both of you were dragging your feet towards them, talking with a flat tone about how amazing your day had been.

«Found anything?» Minho questioned, ignoring how his heart was beating in a silent hope that you didn’t manage to find the book you were looking for; you kept walking, silently shaking your head. Minho didn’t say anything as he walked up next to you; the pirate breathed a soft sigh, swinging his arm around your shoulders and instinctively you hugged his waist, leaning your head towards his shoulder.

«You’ll find it.» you heard Minho’s reassuring tone, and you shrugged in a silent answer.

“I think it will be okay, even if I don’t.” you secretly thought, glancing at the pirate walking next to you.

Out of your sight, Chris and Leana were glancing both at you and Minho, before looking at each other.

«Am I hallucinating?» Chris questioned his wife; he knew that things between you and the pirate had improved, but he didn’t imagine they had improved that much.

«I think we’ll be celebrating another marriage soon.» Leana sighed, fondly smiling at the two of you. «“I don’t like Minho”, my ass.» she scoffed, mumbling to herself as an amused smirk erupted on her lips, recalling the moment you denied liking the pirate.

That night, you found out that Chris not only owned every single soul sailing above the sea, he also owned few taverns scattered around the land as well.

You and the others had ended up in the courtyard of a local tavern – the Bitter Dahlia, the musicians animatedly creating a joyful atmosphere as few people had eventually started to dance. You had let yourself convince to try a whole lot different kind of drinks by Hyunjin, and now you were tipsily strolling around the courtyard with a pint of beer in your hand, and thankfully, Minho had easily noticed it; that’s why as soon as you walked past him in order to find Felix, he reached out, placing his hand on your right shoulder and tugging you close to his body, your back pressed against his chest. You didn’t realize it was Minho at first, you simply pouted because someone was stopping you all of a sudden; when you decided to find out who was attached to the arm blocking your path you giggled as soon as you saw Minho’s face, and let him pull you closer to him.

Minho didn’t say anything, and neither did you – nor did you move away in the first place.

«I think you drank too much, princess,» his hoarse voice – probably affected by the drinks he had, spoke right against your ear, and you instinctively crossed your ankles just to press your thighs together; you let him take the pint of beer from your hand, his arm eventually found his way around your waist, and he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

«Felix!» you giggled, catching a hold of the boy’s forearm as soon as you saw him walk by, tugging him towards both you and Minho, «Look at them,» you excitedly spoke, «look at them!» you urged again, giggling excitedly as you obviously forgot that Minho was right behind you and therefore he could hear everything.

Even if he was in a worse state than you were, it didn’t take a genius for Felix to understand who you were talking about, and he followed your glance towards the small group of couples that were dancing; of course Chris and Leana were there, and of course you and Felix had felt the need to talk about how wonderful and amazing they looked.

«They’re both stumbling on their feet,» Minho had stated from behind you, holding your waist a little firmer, and you suddenly reminded that he had been unconsciously made part of your secret conversations with Felix, «they’re really drunk, like – three sheets to the wind drunk.» he clarified, amused with your behaviour.

«You don’t understand,» you quickly answered, your hand flying on top of the one the pirate had placed on your hip, «look at -» your voice vanished from your throat as soon as you turned your head towards him, and instead, your heart picked up pace at a concerning speed; Minho’s face was millimetres from yours, his gaze burning into yours, «them.» you eventually finished, your voice barely above a whisper. You and Minho had already been close enough to kiss once, but to say that the situation was completely different would be an understatement.

If back then neither you nor Minho would have considered the option to kiss the other – let alone being attracted to each other, to this day things had drastically changed. Even if you blamed it on the alcohol, you were very much aware about the fact that you would have loved to kiss him; the fact that Minho’s gaze kept shifting between your eyes and your lips clearly told you that your desire was reciprocated.

“If this was a movie we would make out while Céline Dion was singing her heart out in the background,” you drunkenly thought, “and all I get is drunk bards play the tarantella”.

«Well, this is something unexpected!» Jisung’s loud voice made you and Minho immediately turn your head towards him, and much to your embarrassment, he wasn’t alone; of course Changbin and Hyunjin were with him.

«She’s tipsy, I didn’t want her to fall over.» Minho had immediately answered, his voice a little bit too defensive if you were to ask Hyunjin, who carefully – and drunkenly, studied his expression with a sly smirk.

«And the empty chair next to you was claimed by a ghost?» Jisung questioned the pirate, who rolled his eyes without answering.

However, the worst still had to happen, because in that very moment, Leana seemed to appear out of thin air, as if she had magically listened to the conversation while she was dancing with her husband.

«You didn’t hear it from me,» Leana loudly announced as if you and Minho weren’t there, «but when we returned from O’draxxia, Minho straight up hugged her.» You felt Minho bury his forehead in the crook of your neck, and you shortly met Felix’s gaze, who was looking at you with a drunk dazed smile: «We better talk about this!» he said.

«And, he also kissed her forehead.» Leana lied, getting drunk shouts of surprise from your friends, and you knew that as soon as you got back on the ship, you and Minho would become the most interesting topic among the crew.

«Want to scoot over?» Minho spoke against your ear once again, and you found your mind drifting towards unholy thoughts before you could stop yourself; his question was sincere, and as he voiced it, he started to move his arm away from your hip. However, you didn’t bother to voice an answer; since your hand was still placed above his, you pushed it more firmly against your hip, purposely intertwining your fingers together.

As you felt Minho’s lips hovering above the exposed skin of your shoulder in a barely perceptible kiss, you could swear that all the noise coming from the loud party around the two of you had been ignored from your brain.

Back on the Golden Fleece, everything seemed to have fallen back to the usual routine, with the only addiction that your friends had decided to constantly tease you and Minho about your almost kiss.

Of course, even if three days had passed since that night and Minho had visited your bedroom as always, no one dared to approach the topic, and you kept dancing on your tiptoes around each other. However, what’s a princess without a fairy godmother?

That evening, right after dinner, Felix had bursted into your room unannounced, somewhat expecting Leana’s presence as well; the two of them were casually sitting on your bed, ignoring the fact that you were curled up under the covers, refusing to get out and face them.

«Well?» Felix urged, lowering the blanket just to expose your face; you hissed like a stray cat, but you quickly understood that neither of them was going to leave without an answer to the same question.

«I don’t have anything to say,» you stubbornly said, and you heard Leana snort.

«Okay, we’ll go first:» she spoke, leaning towards you, «I was drunk but I sure do have eyes, girl.» she spoke with an alluring tone, and you tried to roll over the opposite side in order not to hear her, «and my eyes are telling me that you like Minho, and Minho likes you.» choosing to groan instead of answer, Felix saw an opportunity to chime in.

«You were still dancing when it happened, but they almost kissed – like, kissed.» Felix added, empathizing the last part of his sentence, and Leana almost shrieked in disbelief, her offended voice questioning why you didn’t tell her such an important and fundamental detail.

«Did you tell him?» Felix questioned, just to add the question you didn’t dare to ask yourself, «Oh… Do you still want to go back home?» You eventually threw the blanket off your face hearing that, meeting your friends’ eyes as your face was filled with unsure doubt; you never thought it would have happened, but you had to admit to yourself that you were happy. You had friends, you felt accepted, and you managed to have fun thanks to your friends, who cherished you. Moreover…

«I don’t really want to hurt your feelings,» Leana suddenly spoke, interrupting your thoughts, «but when we were in O’draxxia and you didn’t find the book, you almost looked… relieved.» your gaze met, and you realized you had a problem: your heart was clearly telling that you wanted to stay there, in that absurd world you’ve read about one random afternoon.

When you met Felix’s gaze, you realized you had another problem, maybe a bigger one than the previous one: you liked Minho. Well, of course you already knew that, since he was your favourite character of the novel; however, liking the real Minho, the one daily standing in front of you, the one who went from threatening to throw you overboard to gently caress your hair until you fell asleep was a different kind of thing.

«I think I need a second.» you admitted with a sigh, staring at the wooden tiles on the ceiling,

“Let’s suppose I like him,” you thought, “I don’t think he actually likes me, he was probably tipsy,” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “what if he likes me and I like him and I find the book?” you scratched the back of your neck out of frustration, ignoring the fact that you wanted to scream, “what do I do?”

«Well, you could start with a simple “I think I have feelings for you and I don’t think I want to go back any longer”» Felix gently suggested, and as your gaze flew towards his, you realized that you had been unconsciously voicing your thoughts all along.

The same moment Felix was heading towards your room, Minho was heading towards the dining room, knowing that he would have found what he was looking for. The heavy smell of smoke and alcohol filled his nostrils, as he approached his friends’ table quietly.

«Loverboy decided to ditch his girl to embrace his old habits?» Chris glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

«I’m coming here in spite of myself, but I… have to.» Minho spoke in a dramatic tone that made Chris snort, waiting for his friend to tell them what was going through his mind, «I think I might like her.»

«We knew it already,» Hyunjin replied with no interest, his eyes still glued on his cards, admonishing Jisung because he was trying to sneak some of the coins off the table and inside his sleeve; Minho stared at his friend with stupor, but Hyunjin seemed too focused on their match to pay attention to his friend.

«"Like her" as in, “I want to hold your hand under the moonlight”,» Changbin – the only one beside Chris who was listening to Minho, suggested, «or “I want to ravish you until you can’t stand”?»

Minho didn’t answer immediately, choosing to think about it for a while, even if he didn’t really have to; he undoubtedly found you attractive, and over time, he found himself slowly getting incredibly soft for you, to the point where he would glance around at random moments of the day just to see what you were doing.

The more Minho’s silence went on, the more his friends had gradually stopped focusing on their match in order to look at him with curiosity and malice, enjoying how the pirate’s face gradually got flustered.

«As in… both.» Minho confessed, making his friends hum and mumble in acknowledgement.

«Ah! … Well, we knew that already.» Hyunjin replied again, his sharp gaze once again back to the table in front of them.

«What do you mean?» Minho asked quizzically, since it was the second time his friend had mentioned it.

«Yeah, well, remember when Jisung was teaching her the basic of self defence?» Seungmin – who had kept silent until then, asked making Minho immediately nod, how could he forget that day? Jisung had been trying to teach you a few simple movements for what seemed to be hours, but in the end, you kept doing stupid and predictable mistakes because you seemed to be too tense to use a dagger – let alone a sword.

«Leave it, Han, she’ll end up stabbing herself by mistake.» he had told his friend with an arrogant tone, and he clearly remembered the flustered expression on your face. As always, you tried to fight back, but this time it was a little bit different; that’s how you ended up chasing Minho through the deck while screaming «I’ll fucking kill you, I swear!» until Changbin decided to stop you by stopping you mid run.

«What about it?» Minho asked again, not understanding what his friend wanted to imply.

«Felix and few other saw you laughing,» Seungmin added, «therefore, it was just a matter of time.»

Minho placed his elbow on the table and roughly massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to analyse the situation he was in: he liked you, but what happened few nights ago was just a result of the both of you being tipsy, and moreover, he knew that you wanted to go back home. What was he supposed to do?

«I’m not an expert, but try with a simple “I like you, please stay here with me”.» Jisung had spoken as if he could read his thoughts; only then Minho realized that he had never been silent in the first place.

Minho had eventually joined you in your bedroom few hours after Felix and Leana had left, even if you had already stated that he either fell asleep or he was spending the night gambling with the others. You seemed to miss his presence more than you usually did, especially because that night you were freezing: no matter how many blankets you were laying under, you just didn’t seem to warm up.

“It wouldn’t be punk rock for me to die like this,” you thought, breathing in your joined fists as you tried to ignore the constant shivers of your body.

A familiar knock on the door caught your attention, and as soon as you recognized Minho’s voice whispering his greetings, you had to physically stop yourself from asking him to join you under the covers so that he could warm you up.

Unlike you, Minho didn’t seem to mind the cold that much, but nonetheless he quickly walked up to you, pressing the palm of his hand to your forehead just in case you had a fever.

«I’m genuinely wondering how the hell you manage to live like this.» you broke the silence, your jaw trembling because of the sheer cold; although you tried not to think to the accommodation of your original life, your mind couldn’t help but wander to your beloved electric heater, your faithful companions during winter.

«You just ... get used to it?» Minho questioned back, not really able to give you an actual answer; of course, during the first years he spent sailing he was in the same situation as you – everyone had, but he eventually got used to it. Minho sat on the edge of your bed, mindlessly running his fingertips through your hair – a simple yet intimate gesture he had come to love.

«I can hear flowers blooming in that flower field,» he smugly commented the fact that you were keeping silent, and you clicked your tongue, asking what he meant, «what did you use in your world to keep warm?» he curiously questioned, and your heart soared at the realization that he was honestly and genuinely interested in your stories.

However, you were too cold for your brain to function properly, and you ended up talking about the concept of the electric heating in a very confusing way; nonetheless, Minho didn’t seem to mind you words, for his concern had increasingly risen.

«Hey,» the pirate interrupted your explanation, «are you sure you don’t want another blanket?» despite the fact that you were doing your best, he still noticed the occasional shivers and clattering of your teeth as soon as you stopped speaking.

«It’s okay,» you reassured him, «I used all the blankets Leana gave me… I’ll warm up eventually.» you answered hopefully, but Minho didn’t answer immediately; instead, he reached out, shortly enveloping your hand with his just to comment that it was as if you had stuck your hand into ice.

«Come here,» Minho said, stretching over your legs and fully sitting on your bed with his back against the wall, widening his legs so that he could form a space for you to sit in; you kept still in amazed astonishment, not quite trusting your thoughts on the hypothesis that Minho wanted to cuddle.

«Are you gonna kill me?» you blurted out, for your frozen brain decided it was the most likely solution.

«Quit that, princess,» he clicked his tongue, urging you to come closer, «you know we’re past that.» folding all your blankets around your shape, you slowly crawled in the space he made for you, trying not to lose the small amount of warmth you had created; you immediately tensed up, sitting straight and clutching the blankets closer to your body.

Since the night you almost kissed, you had never been so close to Minho, and for some reason, it was enough for your heart to pick up pace as if it was begging you to set it free through your ribcage.

«Come here,» the pirate repeated, his voice a little gentler – a little softer, and you found yourself leaning against his torso. Unlike you, Minho wasn’t using a blanket to keep himself warm and therefore he could move his arms freely; of course he used them to loosely cage you in his hold.

Although you had to admit that the position you were in definitely looked kind of weird, it was extremely comfortable; Minho’s steady breathing was slowly calming your nerves as well, and you found yourself relaxing in his hold.

«Do you want some of my blankets?» you mumbled quietly, embarrassed about the fact that you didn’t ask sooner.

«I’m good.» Minho answered immediately, gently repeating that you should try to sleep.

Despite the fact that you were comfortable, despite Minho’s presence, despite the fact that you were slowly warming up, sleep was definitely your last priority. The pirate’s nose brushed against your forehead as he was trying to adjust his position to get more comfortable, and you quickly noticed that his skin was cold as well.

«Minho,» you called out again few minutes later; the pirate hummed, and you took it at a silent question to go on, «can we please share blankets?»

«Why?» he chuckled at your distress, and you could feel his soft breath in the side of your face. «You look cold,» you tried to justify yourself, «I have a lot of blankets, we can share.» you insisted.

Minho eventually gave up, and the both of you ended up shifting from your original position; however, this meant that your arms were touching as you were now laying next to each other, and there wasn’t a blanket you could use as an invisible barrier anymore.

Under the sea of sheets, Minho’s right arm snaked under your neck, pulling you to his body; as if you were magnets, you followed his lead, laying on your side and hugging his waist, resting your head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling as close as you could. Your nose was right against Minho’s neck, and you could almost feel the goosebumps he had whenever you breathed; you ended up blaming it on the cold temperature, since you were fond of keeping your mental sanity and you were madly trying to distract yourself from thinking about other ways to share body heat.

«You know, once we got stuck in the middle of an iced part of the sea,» Minho mumbled, talking about one of his adventures as if he was trying to prevent his mind from wandering towards the same sinful thoughts you were trying to avoid.

«What?» you hummed, too tired to try remembering if you read about it in the novel, «How did you get out of there?»

«Ropes,» was his immediate answer, «we ended up pulling on the rope until we could break the ice.»

«Like that “Vikings” episode,» you giggled to yourself in a tired voice; Minho had immediately questioned you about it, and you tried to explain to him what movies and TV shows were.

However, you were obliviously fighting falling asleep, reason why Minho ended up gently shutting you up with a gentle and earnest: «you’ll tell me about it tomorrow.»

As always you fell asleep first, but this time, when Minho moved you so that you could lay on your bed to sleep more comfortably and he could walk back to his room, you weakly grabbed his hand in your sleep.

«I get lonely if you’re not here.» you mumbled, still lost in dreamland. Minho was thankful to the lights being completely off and to you being asleep because the expression on his face was priceless: he was incredibly flustered, his blush was flaring up both his cheeks and the tip of his ears. That night, Minho slept next to you for the first time, and as you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you found him laying next to you under the sea of blankets; you instinctively snuggled closer to his chest, only to realize that you were partially laying on top of his firm chest. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you tried to scoot away as quietly as you could in order not to wake him up, just to lay next to him.

However, that was your initial plan, since you soon found out that Minho was indeed a light sleeper; the arm he kept around your waist had tightened out of reflex, harshly pulling you in your original position once again.

«Where do you think you’re going, princess?» he murmured, his voice still groggy due to sleep.

«I, uhm…» you hesitated, your brain was clearly too sleepy to come up with a clever and witty answer. Minho didn’t wait for you to find your words, though; keeping you close to his body, he gently rolled you on your back, partially draping his body over yours instead.

«Go back to sleep,» he murmured again, easing his left leg between yours, and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

“He’s a cuddler?” you wondered in pleased surprise; your hand eventually ended up in his hair, running your fingertips trough it and trying to lull him back to sleep.

However, Minho found it impossible to fall asleep again, judging your wild heartbeat hammering right under his ear; he glanced up towards the small window in your room, and quickly deduced that it was still the middle of the night, meaning that you didn’t get to sleep much in the first place.

If at first he had tried to lull you back to sleep while caressing your hip in a loving manner, he quickly realized that his touch had quite the opposite effect on you; he also had to admit that the sudden proximity of your body and the position that you were in was making him significantly riled up as well.

«Can’t sleep?» he asked, shortly rubbing his eyes with his fingertips in order to get rid of sleep as fast as he could, deciding that you didn’t have to stay awake on your own; you settled for humming affirmatively at his question, and Minho effortlessly pushed himself up, partially balancing his weight on his right elbow so that he his face was hovering above yours. Due to the change of position, his thigh was firmly pressed between your legs, and you forced yourself to swallow a whimper as his knee slightly dipped in the mattress.

Despite the poor lightning, you could feel his gaze on your features, as if he was trying to see through the darkness; you were clearly trying to do the same, and another silence fell as the Golden Fleece was constantly rocking your body while gently following the rhythm of the night sea.

«Do you think the flowers growing in your head are contagious?» Minho blurted out all of a sudden, his left hand mindlessly running up your side in a gentle yet firm touch, «I think I might go back on my thoughts of you not being a siren.» he quietly added; you didn’t answer – your senses about to go overdrive due to all the different kind of constant stimulation added to the comfortable warmth of his body, settling for humming yet again, silently asking him to go on.

Minho ran his left hand from your side to your neck, and eventually started to run his fingertip over your features, delicately brushing over your skin ever so lightly, touching you as if you were some precious treasure he unexpectedly found in the middle of the sea.

«You have completely driven me mad,» Minho confessed with an earnest voice, his fingertips brushing over your cheekbones, «with affection,» he added, his touch brushing over the bow on your upper lip, «with desire,» you found yourself weakly gripping at the front his shirt as soon as you heard his hoarse voice overflowing with the feelings he was talking about, «to the point where I know I should want you to be happy, but I keep wanting – I keep craving, that you could find your happiness with me.» Minho’s confession made your head spin; you wanted to answer that his feelings were completely reciprocated, answer that you didn’t found happiness with Minho – you found a home. However, your voice died in your throat as soon as the pirate had leaned in, his lips hovering barely above yours, yet almost constantly brushing together due to the ship’s movement.

«I am completely enamoured of everything about you,» Minho had whispered then, making you suddenly tighten the loose grip you had on his shirt to the point that the necklace he had been wearing since they day you saved the crew from the sirens’ had fallen out of the collar, now dangling between your bodies, «your body, your personality, the crazy flower field in your head, princess, I – I don’t want you to go back.»

Your heart was overflowing with a different mix of feelings, but the happiness of your feelings being reciprocated seemed to prevail. «I stopped wanting to go back since me and Leana returned from O'draxxia.» was what you admitted out loud, your voice trembling due to all the sudden emotions that were almost setting your soul on fire.

Only then you leaned in – trusting your body more then your words, capturing the pirate’s lips in a timid first kiss, filling it with all the love you felt for the pirate. Minho returned your gesture immediately, kissing your lips slowly, tentatively, over and over again as he was trying to savour you, shortly kissing your lips just to drift his attention elsewhere and kissing your cheek, your nose, your chin, as if he was trying not to lose himself to the lust he was feeling. The kiss had eventually started to heathen when Minho leaned in to kiss you, just for you to run your fingertips through his hair and harshly closing your hand in a fist against his nape, tugging him closer to you and preventing him from running away, so that you could delicately running your tongue on his lower lip.

Minho’s kisses started to get less cherishing and more passionate, occasionally leaving a path of open mouthed kisses on your neck, his knee digging further in the mattress anytime he moved and creating the kind of friction you were honestly about to beg for. It was as if you were a small ship adrift caught up in a sudden storm; Minho kept worshipping your body and all you could do in that moment was to take, take and take, hoping that as soon as the storm had passed you wouldn’t have completely fallen into madness, wishing to stumble right in another one because you felt addicted to the rush of adrenaline. As your kisses grew hotter, so did your bodies and eventually, the sea of blankets you were covered with was progressively being scattered either on the floor or in a corner of your bed.

On deck, the sight of the sun about to rise in the distance was in stark contrast to the light drizzle that had started to fall, the sound of rain echoing on the wooden tiles and absorbing the faint noises of the pirates waking up for the morning shift; in your bedroom, Minho’s hair felt like gentle rain falling on your body everytime the pirate leaned down to kiss your skin as he was undressing you.

“Well, fuck,” you thought, admitting to yourself that Minho was definitely both a good and experienced lover. He had patiently took his sweet time to pay extreme attention to your body, studying how reacted to his different touches as if he was making up for all the lost time, occasionally showering you with praises as his head was nestled between your legs and he was lapping at your clit, making you quicklytumble on your first orgasm of the night. It had definitely been a long time since you had sex with someone, your boring routine had never actually given you an opportunity to meet new people – let alone think about a relationship, but you weren’t expecting Minho to act so smug about it.

As your bodies were finally connected,Minho had sneaked one arm under your waist while steadily moving his hips against yours, harshly pulling it upwards so that your back would be a little more arched and your naked bodies would be pressed together even more; once again, you were greedily taking everything Minho was giving you, helplessly running your fingernails on his back deep enough you would leave marks, beaming yourself in the feeling of his low moans and the goosebumps erupting on his skin out of reflex.

«Going dumb on me for this little action, princess?» Minho’s hoarse voice was filled with desire as he spoke, his hips gradually slowing until his movements came to a stop; you immediately whimpered loudly at the lack of friction, trying to move your hips in circles because you were desperately to create it on your own. You wanted to feel more, you wanted for that moment to never end. As you kept your movements slow and rhythmic – you had to admit that Minho still hoisting you up was doing half of the job, you grabbed the necklace sill dangling between the two of you with your left hand, harshly tugging it and therefore bringing Minho’s face closer to yours.

«Do you ever shut up?» you answered instead, the nails of your right hand – still gripping at his shoulders, were most definitely digging half moon shapes in his skin, and you felt proud of yourself for not ending up whimpering with need somewhere along your sentence; even if it was probably dawn already, you couldn’t see him clearly yet, but it didn’t take a wild guess for you to know that he was smirking at your words.

«I don’t know, do I?» he challenged, shortly capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, starting once again to move his hips to meet your movements.

«Ruin me, Minho,» you urged, keeping him close to you with your grip on the necklace, «I want to be yours,» you confessed then, your body slowly about to lose itself to the momentary euphoria of another orgasm, «I don’t want you to be anybody else’s but mine.»

«Do you think we can sleep in?» you mumbled, tired; you could both clearly hear that it was raining, and you desperately wished for your alone time with Minho to continue for few more hours; you were now laying in bed, lovingly cuddling in your post orgasm bliss.

«I’m on duty this morning,» Minho replied, caressing the bare skin of your shoulder, and admitting that he would have loved to spend the day like this; eventually, you and Minho woke up, washed up and got ready for your day.

Of course, during the day, the pirate had used any excuse to drive you in a corner of the Golden Fleece and kiss you as desperately as if it was your last time. Of course, you couldn’t escape a certain pair of eyes.

“Oh no, here they come, Sauron and Sauron jr.” you thought, chuckling to yourself as you saw Felix and Leana approaching with big and quick steps; you found it hard to contain your laughter, since they were lightly pushing and pulling each other as if both of them wanted to know first.

«Congratulations on the sex!» Leana had mischievously commented, and you immediately reached out to press your hand against her lips in a vain attempt to let everyone on the Golden Fleece know about your early morning activities, «you have hickeys everywhere.» you heard her mutter against your skin.

«Are you finally official?» Felix questioned, secretly happy to have you as a sister in law; you didn’t immediately reply, since you and Minho didn’t clarify it out loud.

However, as your gaze shortly wondered to your lover, who was continuously walking around on deck while changing his destination every now and then as he was trying to avoid Hyunjin’s Jisung’s and Changbin’s teasing – they were literally tailing him and occasionally trying to widen the collar of his shirt just to see «where do these scratches on your nape come from? Is there a stray cat on board or something?», you found yourself smiling gently at the sight.

«We are.» you confirmed, a smile on your face as you finally felt happy.

A month later, you and Minho were definitely official: he moved to your bedroom, and you managed to fit in your small bed nonetheless. You both spent your days doing your chores, and your nights enjoying your affection, either making love until you were exhausted or talking until you were on the verge to fall asleep.

Minho wanted to know everything about you, every single detail that you didn’t consider important, and you felt cherished, since you knew that no one had ever loved you like that. Actually, you wanted to know everything about Minho as well; although the author of the novel had paid enough attention to his character, there were a lot of things you didn’t know, and you found yourself listening to his stories, silently wishing that you were already in his company so that you could have experienced those memories together.

«You’re a pirate,» he had chuckled at your comment, «I’m sure you’ll get to experience your dose of adventures, too.» Minho was completely smitten with your presence, and so were you; slowly, you found yourself occasionally forgetting about your life before you had shifted into this dimension, admitting to both your lover and your friends that you didn’t want to find a way to go home any longer. Needless to say, they were all more than happy with your choice.

However, a month later, your destiny gave you an unexpected choice.

The Golden Fleece was now docked to a port for your usual restock of supplies, and as everyone was busy with their commissions, you and Minho decided to wander through the nearby marketplace, since everything about that world was new to you. You ended up buying a matching necklace, since the both of you were too scared to lose a ring in the middle of the sea, and you kept playing with it as you were strolling around, your fingers loosely intertwined together.

The marketplace was filled with the most random people, but what captured your attention was a small stall that seemed to be packed with books.

«I’ll check this out for a second.» you told Minho, who had simply nodded at you, answering that he was going to check out the stall right next to yours. As soon as you quickly approached it, a certain book seemed to catch your eye in a magnetic hold: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Honestly, a small familiar detail was the one that caught your eye, making your heart rapidly hammer in your chest: a small golden stone embedded right under the title was quietly reflecting the sunlight.

Immediately, you found yourself fanning the pages with anxious fingers, and you couldn’t believe what you were reading; the book was talking about your life, the life you were leading before finding yourself in the novel you had been reading. What the hell was happening?

Quickly, you jumped to the end of the book to read the summary, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe: it was a short novel about a girl – who coincidentally had both your name and worked exactly where you used to work, who spent her quiet life in a small home town, occasionally meeting her friends.

Of course, it sounded rather plain and boring, but the description was perfectly matching your life; anxiety was slowly clouding your emotions as you opened the book at a random page.

“«Cleo, don’t sit on the window sill!» the girl had yelled from the kitchen, worried about her cat’s habits.”

You closed the book immediately, recalling the scene a bit too vividly; your cat had the habit to sit on the window sill anytime it was open, therefore worrying you to death, and every time you ended up picking her up in order to give her some extra cuddles to refrain her from climbing there yet again.

A whirlwind of thoughts were occupying your head; if this book was talking about your life, that meant you could go back to your ordinary life and keep living your days as you used to.

Going back meant not having occasional nausea due to living on a ship and not risking to die of hypothermia; moreover, all of a sudden, you were definitely craving to eat some junk food.

«Are you interested in purchasing the book, young girl?» an old lady called your attention. She was probably the owner of the stall, and you squinted your eyes at the familiarity of her face; to be honest, you were almost certain that she was the same person that owned the book-store in your original time, but that couldn’t be the case, right?

«Hey princess, if you don’t hurry up, we’ll leave you here!» Minho’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and your head seemed to clear just like the wind clears the sky after a heavy storm; you turned your head to look at your lover, who was looking at you with his hands on his hips, a smug yet enamoured look on his face. The Golden Fleece was about to sail, you reminded yourself, you had simply stopped in town to get some supplies, water and enough provisions for the next trip.

Out of instinct, you hugged the book to your chest, as your eyes remained fixed on Minho; you didn’t know anything about how you managed to end up in this messed up reality, and at this point, you didn’t care.

The chance to go back was right in your hands, but as you watched Minho scoff a laughter at your indecision, every trace of doubt vanished from your heart; you and Minho definitely had a rough start, but you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn’t want to live in another dimension without the pirate who was looking at you as if you were the centre of the universe.

Going back meant not having Felix waking you up in the morning, or Leana bursting into your room looking for cuddles because «Chris is busy with stupid pirate stuff.». It meant not seeing both Seungmin and Jeongin incredibly proud about the latter’s progresses in writing and reading, or Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin restlessly trying to lure you into their gambling circle.

Going back also meant no more Minho; no more walking up in the middle of the night just to cuddle closer to him, no more having quiet sex on deck in the middle of the night, no more laughing among yourselves because of a stupid inside joke you created, not having him gently chuckling at your unconsolable face anytime he was drying your hair with a towel as you kept whining about your limited edition conditioner.

Most importantly, it meant no more Minho telling you that he loved you, his eyes full of love and sincerity.

«Thank you, but I prefer adventure books.» you honestly answered at the lady, and with a content smile you placed the book exactly where it was; you quickly walked towards Minho, who hugged your shoulders out of instinct as the two of you walked towards the port.

«Saw anything you liked out there?» he wondered curiously; you sincerely seemed interested in the book you were holding, why didn’t you buy it?

«Yeah,» you answered honestly, «you.» the pirate scoffed a flustered breath, and you circled his waist as you kept walking.

Unbeknownst to you, the lady was looking at you and Minho with a some sort of fond smile on her lips; as soon as you were at a reasonable distance, the book seemed to vanish, as if it had completely disappeared from this world. In a blink of an eye, the old lady seemed to have disappeared as well, and in her place was standing the original owner of the stall, a man who was selling every kind of jewellery shining brightly on the table in front of him.

Few meters away, a cat with a very unique appearance – black fur randomly dotted with ginger spots and light green eyes, was quietly roaming the port, satisfied with her task. She recalled being called in a different variety of names during her immortal life, “Ananke” was probably the most used among different cultures; however, she will always cherish the memories she had made with a very special human who had randomly picked her up on a rainy day, giving her a shelter, keeping her well fed and gifting her with a brand new name: “Cleo”.

Walking towards the Golden Fleece, your attention was caught by some pirates who were carrying a dozen crates on board that looked quite heavy.

«Did we have so little supplies on board?» you questioned Chris, as soon as you and Minho joined the others on the wharf.

«We had plenty!» Leana answered instead, «Me and Felix decided to fill your wardrobe with new clothes, as a welcoming gift!»

«But… I don’t have a wardrobe in my room…» you answered, wondering how could a wardrobe fit in there now that you and Minho were sharing the bedroom.

«Not yet!» Felix answered, mirroring Leana’s euphoria; you were about to answer him, when Hyunjin had asked you whether you had decided to stay with them.

«I did, Captain said it’s not a problem.» you nodded, imperceptibly pushing your body against Minho’s side as if to look for an invisible shelter; what if the gambler trio was against the idea?

However, Hyunjin had simply nodded, while Changbin and Jisung seemed to be genuinely happy about it.

«Well, that’s great!» you said, clapping your hands once, «Chris said that I could chose the first thing to do, and so I decided we’re about to raid a merchant ship!»

«Are you sure you’re okay? Did you perhaps hit your head again?» Seungmin wondered, instinctively reaching out in order to touch your forehead, as if checking if you had a fever. However, you were already walking towards the Golden Fleece with confident steps, as if you were meant to be there.

«Come on, scallywags!» you eagerly announced in a loud voice, as if you were impersonating the Captain, «Let’s go, Min Min.» you added then, your voice definitely more softer and a smile on your lips.

«Wait!» Jeongin halted everyone, his hands hovering in the air, «Did she just call him-»

«You heard the lady!» Leana interrupted Jeongin, quickly pulling the palm of her hand on the younger’s mouth. «Let’s go!»

“Ah, I really shouldn’t have wasted the Britney quote like that,” you pouted, “now I have to figure out another iconic thing to scream as we walk on the merchants’ ship.” you sighed, instinctively leaning towards Minho as soon as you felt his arm circle your shoulders.

«You seem lost in thought,» he pointed out, noticing your eyebrows furrowed.

«Does “it’s high tide, baby!” sound scary and menacious to you?» you wondered out loud, thing that made Minho burst out laughing, «Why are you laughing? It’s not like we can crash against their ship screaming “vibe check”!» you pretended to be offended, but you found yourself laughing along with your lover.

«“Vibe” what? Where did that come from now?» he asked, already knowing that this was just another one of your weird figure of speech.

«My flower field.» you proudly answered, tapping your temple twice, Minho rolled his eyes, and leaned in, shortly kissing your temple.

Everyone was busy on deck, the Golden Fleece had sailed once again; your gaze lost itself in the vast sea in front of you, and you found yourself recalling the question Leana had asked you when you were on your trip to O’draxxia.

«Do you believe in soulmates?» she had questioned you, and back then you uncertainly answered that you thought you did.

“What if me and Minho are soulmates?” you wondered, unconsciously wrapping your fingers around your matching necklace - both the one you bought at the market and the talisman made out of your precious clothes; you found yourself recalling the unpredictable change of your relationship, and you breathed a content sigh, for the first time in your life feeling completely at peace.

«Yes, we must be.» you softly mumbled to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper losing itself in the wind.

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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