#boarding ramp hatch

[sw5w]

Qui-Gon Lands on the Ramp

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:17:26

[atzfilm]

— clair de rose (m) (6)

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count; 44.3k

genre; vampire!pirates! au, fantasy

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

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

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

part five | part seven

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

Hundreds of years prior

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

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

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

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

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

“That is months away–"

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

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

“What is your name?”

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

You cannot see how his expression shifts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Capt’ know?”

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

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

“He is quite the charmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, tell me where you’re from.”

“The dock you just departed.”

“And your position in society?”

“A handmaiden.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“So you are Miss Rose?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, there’s no need–”

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

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

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

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Royalty?"

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

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

"Then who were you before this you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

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

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

“A mate will bring you your dinner.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You very much enjoy the way he says your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time you're speechless.

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

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

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

“Ah, you needn’t worry about that–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, this isn’t necessary–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Peculiar," you note aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

"You are the sailing master, correct?"

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How does he know that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“I can handle myself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are you?” You ask softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There isn’t a need to forgive me–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hate is the last thought on my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s happening? What did he do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Rose?” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then he broke your heart?” Hongjoong suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Rose–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even if I am a woman."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a wondrous man,” you murmur.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyung–"

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

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

“Captain wants to see you.”

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

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

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

“What do you suggest?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This ship then?” You raise your brow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever heard of the term jiāngshī?”

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

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

“Why would I? Do you believe in it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relief?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The others want it too.”

You stop moving. “What?”

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

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

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

“There are more of you?”

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

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

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

“Stop–"

“Jongho. Seonghwa. San.”

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

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

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

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

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

Not in a lifetime.

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

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

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

"Jongho was worried."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

"I'm so happy," he says.

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

—

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

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

"Rose?" Jongho asks softly, nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You will not, Rose."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, Choi Jongho!”

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

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

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

“Do you–”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love being the first, of course.”

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

“You’re a sly man, Choi San.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inside of me, San.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

“I’d never do such a thing, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it mandatory?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are such a menace!"

-

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

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

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

“Moreso Seonghwa and Wooyoung,” Yunho adds in, taking a sip of his water. “Once they heard about the gathering they both made it an hour before. Though I can give a bit of leeway to Wooyoung since he is our cook, there’s no reason for the Quartermaster to arrive as early as he did.”

Seonghwa frowns, “I was inspecting the perishables.”

  “Inspecting it while sitting in that same spot for over an hour?” Yunho smirks, only causing San to chuckle next to him. You match his grin, resting your chin on your folded hands as he begins to explain himself. A tap on the table ceases the conversation immediately, Hongjoong standing at the helm.

“We are here to celebrate, not tease,” he says, shaking his head at Yunho. The man smiles but says nothing in response, bowing to his captain. “Our Rose has finally decided to join our crew, to embrace our family as her own. We all thank you for this, and hope that you can enjoy your time with us on our ship. I will protect you with my life, as will the rest of the men at this table.”

Your brother is the first to stand, holding out his beer bottle to you. Hongjoong wraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer as they both salute to you. The others all stand as well, glasses raised. You slide from beneath the table, curtsying at their motion.

“I thank you all as well for taking me in as your own without question. Here I have found a member of my family that I mourned for years, and I have also found companionship within these wooden walls and on the vast, open sea. Though there are many decisions that will be made against my own beliefs, I do think of you as my home. I hope none of you doubt that,” you meet each of their gazes, briefly lingering on Hongjoong’s. The smirk that you expected rests on his lips. You notice the grip that his hand has on your brother, brows furrowing once you see an odd bandage on his neck.

Their sudden cheering distracts you from it, their glee making yours rise. They all sit back down, the quiet immediately filled with chatter as they all begin to laugh and eat. Your eyes flick down to the plate in front of you – bloody meat, seared on either side. You swallow slowly, pushing it away as you eat the potatoes in another bowl. You can’t quite figure out what’s happening, but something is off. Your gaze moves to the wine cup in Hongjoong’s hand, the familiar blood swirling inside of it. But once you move down the table, you see everyone with it in their hand except for Yeosang, drinking it with ease. There’s still several days left. There is no way–

“Are you alright?”

Seonghwa looks at you, pink lips stained bloody red. The metallic smell hits your nose, your stomach groaning, mouth running dry. Your eyes move to your brother, the sounds muting themselves once you see his fingers wrapped around the glass, taking a long drink. He almost holds it desperately, tongue dragging along to rim to take in every drop.

Hongjoong never mentioned Subin, he never said –

“Rose?” Yunho touches your hand. You pull back immediately, frightened at the touch. It is not like you have not ever let him touch you, you’ve spent several nights next to him as you slept. But he’s always been warm. Why is he now so terribly cold? “Talk to me.”

You stand, the drag of your chair against the floor disrupting conversations. Your hands shake, moist with sweat as you move away from them all. Your brother is the first to get to you, hands raised as you shrink away from him. Blood stains his shirt, splatters across the cotton as he moves closer. How could you not have noticed it before? Were you so stuck in your own head you forgot what's happening right in front of you?

“Breathe, Rosie. It’s okay–“

You shake your head, words lost as you open and close your mouth. His hand touches yours. Cold.

“What did you do?” You ask him, blinking slowly as you meet his eyes. The brown is lighter now, crimson as he stares at you. You hold back your scream, body shaking. He’s your brother, he’s alive. He would not make this choice just after finding you. He wouldn’t. Subin wouldn’t.

“It was for me, Rose. He asked and I just couldn’t say no–"

You close your eyes, sucking in your lips. Think, think. Say something.

“How?”

“Rosie–"

“How did you turn into something like him?” Your voice is stern now, angry. “What did you have to do?”

His expression breaks down as you glare at him. Keeping one hand raised, he slides the bandage down, revealing a stab wound just beneath the curve of his chin. You gasp, hands flying to your mouth as you stare at it. It’s the same spot that Hongjoong showed you when he ‘injured’ himself. His fingers brush against it. You expect him to at least hiss at the pain, but his teeth shine at you as he grins.

He’s grinning.

“It only hurt for a moment, but when I came to I was alive again. I have never felt more alive in my whole life.”

Dead. He had to die to become like Hongjoong. Your eyes move to the rest of the men in the room, worries etched in their faces. The only man who matches your expression is Yeosang, the only clear face through the cloud. You do not get the chance to dwell though, Hongjoong clearing his throat.

“I thought it would be a good time to show you what it means to be like me. They will not be warm like I due to the curse that was bestowed upon me. They will remain cold for the years they live,” He gestures to the rest of the men around the room, “Only a few have not been turned yet, but if you saw the process you might think differently. Mingi insisted that he would be the first to show you.”

He’s of no sound mind if he believes you’d like to see them die one by one. Seonghwa notices how tense you are, how close you are to falling apart, and turns back to Hongjoong. “Captain, this may not be a good time to start this–"

“Nonsense. If she is to live as part of the crew, she must witness this with her own eyes. Mingi, come,” Hongjoong waves him closer. Mingi looks between you and him, giving you a quick smile before moving closer to him.

“No!” You yell, pushing Subin out of the way. Seonghwa holds you against him just as Mingi places his head against the table. The others look on, Yeosang’s eyes away from the scene as Hongjoong lifts the knife. Just before he pushes it into his neck, Seonghwa covers your eyes, the sound echoing in your ears. Mingi cries out, the thumping of his limbs against the wood filling your ears. You try to pry Seonghwa’s hands from your face but he doesn’t move, even as your nails dig into his skin. Your tears paint his palm as you sob, falling to the ground. Though you cannot see anything, the picture in your head is gruesome enough, the sound of him dying almost too much to bear.

“It’ll be okay,” Seonghwa whispers to you softly, pulling you closer to his body. You notice how warm he is compared to Yunho, Subin. He has not turned yet. You dip your head into his chest, throat aching from the screams you let out. “He’ll be fine, Rose. Trust me.”

“You did not let her see the main event,” Hongjoong sighs. “That is what she came here for.”

“Seeing someone die is not a special occasion,” Seonghwa says, sharp in his tone. “Have you forgotten what she has gone through?”

“Are you questioning my choices, Park?” Hongjoong hisses back. You cannot see him, but you hear the familiar steps of Hongjoong as he moves closer to you. “Answer me.”

You look up from his chest to his face, seeing the anger in his brows, the turn of his lips. He looks down at you, his expression softening. “I am not, Captain. I follow your lead, as always, without question. My apologies, seeing Rose distraught hurt me.”

“Mingi will be up soon,” Hongjoong says just behind you. “I’ll have him visit you Rose so that you can see he is well. Seonghwa, you can take her back to her room. We will continue your ceremony once she is well enough on her own.”

Seonghwa nods, lifting you with ease off the floor. Your eyes move down to the wood, the glistening of a slow blood trail just near you. He holds you close as the two of you leave the room, ducking his head and shutting the door behind him.

He does not try to start conversation, holding you close as he leads you back to your room. Though, instead of walking down the steps to yours, he goes to the opposite side of the ship, opening a hatch and making his way down to his own room. You’ve never stepped foot on this side out of politeness, knowing that he rested here alone. You blink slowly as he places you on his bed. He shifts through the dark, reaching for a match and striking it against the sandpaper, holding it close as he lights the lanterns in his room. It’s quaint in comparison to many of the men, his belongings neatly placed in their spots, clothing folded and hanged, clean. You’re sure you cannot spot one dirty corner of the room, much cleaner than even yours.

Your head throbs as you rub it, Seonghwa crouching down next to you. A small cup of tea rests between his fingers, blowing on it lightly as he holds it up to your lips. You take a slow sip, hotter than you expected it to be. You thank him as he hands it to you, his body resting against the frame of the bed as he waits for you to finish.

“I did not know he would do that,” Seonghwa starts, a pained expression on his face. “If I knew, I would have objected to your presence immediately. No one should have to witness the death of a loved one when it is not necessary. When I invited you I truly thought it was to welcome you to our crew, nothing nefarious. I know my words are not the most trustworthy because of my relation to our Captain, but I hope you can see them as true. I would never want to hurt you in such a way, Rose,” his voice cracks at the end, eyes watering. “I could not imagine how you would react seeing him like that, so I had to cover your eyes. Something that horrid could not be removed from a memory. Shielding you from that scene is not something I will apologize for.”

The cup rests between your palms, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. “I have always considered myself a brave woman and yet here I am, continuing to cry in front of you. You do not need to apologize to me for something they have planned. I assumed you did not know from your reaction alone.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head. “They hid it because they knew I would rather die than let you be in the room when it happened.” Die, death. It seems that you cannot ever escape it. The screams of Mingi still resonate in your ear, the tightening of your chest almost making you feel faint.

“Can we not speak of your death right now, Seonghwa?” The words are at a whisper as you speak them, gaze glued to the back of his head. “I’ve seen enough of it already to last a lifetime.”

He nods to you, letting the silence fill the air again. You place the cup on the side table, closing your eyes as you rest your head against his pillows. All of them dying lingers on your mind. Especially the way your brother seemed so happy to show you the wound on his neck, telling you that he’s no longer a human. The way he gripped the glass of blood, drinking it with earnestness, letting it drip onto his shirt. Seonghwa is one of the few who decided against it at this moment. But you know he wants it, you know it is probably on his mind right now, just as it is on yours.

“Will he force me to watch you die too?” You ask softly, though you just tossed away the subject.

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

“You would not be in the position to make that decision.”

Seonghwa turns to you, your head tilted in his direction as you meet his eyes. You’ve always loved the way they are so open, full of life. Rarely if ever does he hide his true emotions, and even if he could, you could tell from a look what he truly felt. Like right now.

  “He would not go against my wishes.”

“He knew you would not like for me to see that and yet he did it anyway. He cares about no one’s wishes but his own,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “If that was the case he would not have ever offered this to you.”

“You believe it was his idea?”

“That is what he said, yes.”

Seonghwa’s lips lift, a small smile. “No, my doe. He did not make that decision on his own. Wooyoung was the first to bring it to his attention after a long night. It was before you arrived on the ship. After a night of fighting with another crew, many of us were bruised, bloody, wounds covering our skin. Our captain was the only one who did not suffer like we have. He could only watch us as he assisted with bandaging our wounds. Wooyoung spoke and asked if there was any possibility that we could be like him. At first the captain insisted that there was not, that we would have to live like this. Then he loosened his lips and confessed that it was possible. That night, the majority of us agreed to turn into him. We could change our tune at any time, but none of us have. Including Yeosang,” he adds. “He never wanted it, so none of us pushed him into it. And not too long later you arrived on the ship.”

Why did he lie? Did Hongjoong want you to hate him more, look at him with utter disdain? But why? Was it not his end goal to make you love him? And he has achieved it, somewhat. Though he seems keen on destroying your care for him entirely.

“Do you know why he was cursed?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifts, darkens. “He was never willing to give us a reason.”

“And you are not the least bit curious?”

“I was,” he admits, tucking his legs closer to him. “But when you’ve lived with someone longer than you’ve lived without them, you learn. Whatever it may be that he has done, he has suffered for it. I think it unnecessary that I pry into his past to find out what it was.”

You adore Seonghwa with every bone in your body, but this is one thing you cannot agree on. Being cursed with something of this nature and not giving it a second though is obscene. Trying to pry out any more information from his mind will only make him close himself off more. All you can do is watch as each of them turn into something unimaginable. You wish that your brother was nowhere near it, but it is done. Now you must find a way to bring him back.

“Forcing your own beliefs on people who want this is not a wise choice,” Seonghwa says. You have not noticed, but he’s turned to look at you. “He will push you away.”

“He’s my brother.”

“One you have never seen, Rose. None of us are who we once were,” Seonghwa sighs. “I am sure he’s unlike the boy he tells you he was. Protecting your family is of utmost importance, that I know from experience, but there are times that we must let go.”

He’s telling you to let your brother live a life of drinking human blood? The way he speaks of it is so odd, strange. The more you look at Seonghwa, the more you feel as if he’s changed since you’ve met him. You nod, moving your legs to the side of the bed to stand. Your body is still a bit unstable, shaky, but you would rather be in your own quarters than in his. He stands, placing his hand on the edge of the bed.

“You can stay here for the night, I will not dare disturb you.”

“I would prefer being on my own.” You slowly stand, his eyes widening.

"No one will come for you here."

"I would rather not overstay my welcome."

“Rose, please,” his voice is desperate now, holding your arm as you move. You narrow your eyes at his change in tone. “It is for the best, that I promise you.”

“Why will you not let me go?”

“I…” he sucks in a breath, glancing at the door to his room. “I cannot say, but it is best if you stay here. If you have not listened to any of my words, please listen to this. It is in your best interest if you do so.”

“Answer the question, Seonghwa.”

He sighs deeply, running his fingers through his hair. The way his hand trembles, the panicked look in his eyes. He knows something that you do not. What is awaiting you in your room? And why is he not saying so? You did find it strange that he carried you here, with explicit instruction from the captain to place you in your room.

“If I say what will happen, there will be consequences. All I can say is that he instructed me to take you to your room, Rose. And without thinking, I took you to mine. No one else but Hongjoong is allowed in here, and he will be preoccupied with the others tonight. Do you understand what I am saying to you? Please rest here, I will make sure you will be alright if you just stay.”

"... Alright. I will not leave."

"Do you promise this?" He says, eyes flicking between yours. "Promise me Rose. Promise you will not leave this room until daybreak."

"I will not leave, Seonghwa. I promise you."

The stress from before slides from his gaze, tension loosened. He lets out a small breath, nodding slowly. "And I will follow my own promise and leave you be. Not fully, I'll stay outside my room after I'm done."

This is not the right moment to do it, but you reach out, letting your hand cup his cheek. You try to memorize the warmth beneath your fingertips, hoping that he changes his mind in the next few minutes. He leans into your touch, lids fluttering as he covers your hand with his. He presses a chaste kiss into your palm, eyes steady on yours.

"Love does not change in an instant, my doe. I will still be the same man."

You will not.

"We can love each other as before."

You cannot.

You place your other hand on the side of his face, holding his head between your fingers. Your eyes watch as his cheeks flush beneath. If there were a way to capture this moment forever you would do it without hesitation. To see him like this again. You hold back your tears, biting your lip.

"I've always admired your eyes, Hwa," you say, lip trembling. "They are so full of life, expressive. Round. Though I do not believe in love at first sight, I do know that once you laid your gaze upon mine, I could never look away."

Seonghwa begins to shake his head, but you hold him steady. "Even now knowing it will not be the same. Please look upon me one more time so that I can keep that moment in my head for years to come."

"You will never lose me."

You can barely make out his words, his fingers digging into yours, light sobs falling from his lips. You hold in yours, letting your forehead rest against his. It feels as if you're mourning him when he is right in front of you. The fleeting wish of knowing him sooner so that you may have spent time with him as he is now crosses your mind. And with horror, the small thought of you living as them so you can know them longer lingers.

"I love you ever so much, Seonghwa," you say. "And I will not make you listen to what I want. If this will make you happy, then I will accept your decision."

-

Seonghwa locked the door behind him. You hold your legs close, the sound of Mingi dying echoing in your mind over and over. The blood splattering against the floor, trickling down the wood, almost touching your shoes. Sleeping through the horror in your mind is unlikely. In times like this you would stand on the deck, stare at the stars. But now, you fear, if you leave this room something may happen to you. The only person you are afraid of is Hongjoong, but with the panic in Seonghwa's eyes maybe you were too innocent to believe no one else could cause harm.

The captain said that Mingi would visit your quarters. Would they start a search once they see that you're not there? Seonghwa would have told you by now, no? You trust him. He would do everything in your best interest. And your brother. You should speak to him, somehow figure out how to handle this. How to make things right again.

A light knock on the door makes you freeze, eyes on the knob. It does not move, whomever it is, thankfully, not opening the door entirely. Or forcing it open.

“Seonghwa told me you were here after much persistence on my part,” his voice seeps through the cracks in the wood. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him speak though he never went on tangents often. “I know I’m not allowed inside, so I wanted to speak to you through it, if I may.”

“I’d never reject your presence, Yeosang. You should know that well,” your voice feels smaller, unsure. “Have you…”

“No,” he says quickly. You hear him slide down the door, a sigh leaving his lips as he rests his head against the wood. “Nothing will convince me otherwise, Rose. Please trust me when I say I’d rather die untimely than become something like them.”

“Have they all turned now?” You ask.

There’s hesitance in his voice. “No. Not when I left, no. Seonghwa is the last. He left for the captain’s quarters. I do not believe you will be seeing him again tonight. He will be preoccupied for the remainder. Apologies for not being who you expected to hear from tonight.”

He needn’t apologize. You are thankful that it is him resting outside your room and not anyone else. Even your brother, who you worry for, you cannot see just yet. Your emotions still have not settled, the grip on your necklace only tightening as you think back to tonight. The sound of Mingi’s flesh being pierced ringing in your head over and over. You are not sure it will ever stop. Yeosang does not say anymore. As always, a man of few words.

“Will you be okay, Yeosang?”

“Hm?” He hums.

“Your family, they’ve all turned. You will be alone.”

There’s silence. You play with your necklace, your nerves taking over. Have you said too much? Why does this man make you so nervous? Your breath hitches, chest pounding.

“I have always been alone, Rose. Losing another family of mine is nothing new. But I will not leave them,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve lived with them for so long on this ship I know nothing else. I have promised to stay by their side no matter what decision they’ve made. They are my home. And this may be selfish to say,” you hear him shuffle again. “But I had hoped that one day you may think of us as your home too.”

You do.

You did.

“I care for you all, Yeosang,” you say simply.

“But not enough to live with us like this? You have officially joined us not too long ago, and you are deciding to leave? Do you fear them that much?”

“It is more complicated than just a fear,” you swallow. “I cannot get the thought of my parents’ bodies, swallowed in a pile of their own blood out of my head. I do not want to witness anything like that again. It was silly of me to even accept a position on this ship knowing what pirates do. And it was even more silly of me to fall in love with all of you in my own separate, intricate ways. I should have stopped that night we were together. I should have pulled away.”

“Do you regret it? Us being together?”

His lips trail along your neck, crescents embedded in your skin as he pushes deeper into you.

You flush at the memory, mouth dry. “I will not, as long as I live.”

“I will not either, Rose. I think of it everyday, if I am being honest.” His body moves closer to the door, your eyes glancing at the shadow of him just on the opposite side. Seonghwa told you explicitly that no one else is allowed in his room except Hongjoong. But the thought of opening it just so that Yeosang can clouds your mind entirely. “Your body underneath mine, the way you tightened against me as I moved deeper inside of you.”

Your chest rises and falls quickly, swallowing the saliva that pools in your mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to do that again? And again, and again.”

“Yeosang,” a heavy breath leaves your lips, wetting them with a flick of your tongue. “We cannot do that tonight. Seonghwa, and the others–”

“They would not mind, pretty,” his voice switches, a higher pitch falling from it. His nails scratch against the wood, breaking it beneath his fingertips. “My pretty peach.”

This is not Yeosang.

“How the hell did you do that?” You say, moving further up your bed. You look around for anything that may be of use, in case he decides to enter the room. “How could you mimic him?”

“A perk of not being human,” he giggles, a shiver running down your spine. “You would only speak to me if I were your Yeosang, pretty. I needed to change it a bit so that you’d listen.” Though you cannot see him, you can picture the pout on his lips, the mischievous glint to his eyes. “I can make you feel good again if you let me in.”

“The Wooyoung I know is afraid to even touch me, let alone encourage it. What has he done to you? Why are you this way?” And it is true. Wooyoung is shy, nervous. You could barely get him to look you in the eye without the familiar flush on his cheeks. This Wooyoung? His confidence makes your heart skip beats, but he is not Jung Wooyoung. The shy chef that gives you extra portions, the man who makes you flowers out of spare oregano he discovers in the kitchen, the man who you love dearly. “When did he turn you?”

“Moment’s ago,” he says. “And I am the same, Rose. I only am more confident in my words. I let my thoughts out of this head of mine now. Do you not like that more? Does that not satisfy you?”

“A change was not needed in the first place–”

His fist bangs against the wood, breaking through the door. You scream, gripping the candle holder in your hands. He stills, fist still in the hole. You can see half his face, lips open in shock. He opens, then closes them, pulling his hand away from the hole. Though it is dark, you can see a bit of the way his body shakes, quickly standing to his feet.

“I did not… Rose, I do not know of my strength. I–” His voice wavers. “I am sorry. I’ll leave you. Please do not be afraid, okay? I will not bother you anymore tonight. I promise that.” He disappears after that, your hands tight around the holder as you stare at the hole. The last sentences he spoke reminded you of your Wooyoung, but the fear that he can just… easily, break through wood, only solidifies your fears. He could have broken down the door if he wanted.

You must leave.

-

It is probably too early in the morning when you wake, still gripping the candle holder. You wipe your face with the small bowl of water Seonghwa left on the side table, standing. You look through the small window, the moon still high in the sky. You look through his room, grabbing a small knife and tucking it in the strap wrapped around your thigh. Just as you move to the door, you stop, thinking.

Seonghwa warned you about leaving his room, in fear of what would happen if you went back to your room. You trust him. But there is a part of you that wonders the full truth to his words. What if he wanted you to stay, so that he would come back for you? Is it too far-fetched to believe that he would turn you once he arrived back in his quarters? Hours ago there would have been a definitive answer, but now you are not so sure. Especially with the way Woo smashed into the door. Your eyes flick to the hole, finally swinging the door open.

The dark is quiet as you make your way up the steps. There are small boats you can take, push it off the side and be on your way. You would need a map depending on how far you are from land, but you can recall Jongho saying it is just a day and a half away. Is that enough? Will a small boat be able to take you to shore? Or are you confided to this ship, stuck with a group of men, thirsty for your blood?

You hold the lantern close.

“Discouraging yourself is not something you often do, Rose,” you murmur.

The breeze stings your cheeks harshly, the wind tasting of salt as you climb up the steps. You stomp loudly on the last step, letting out a brief breath from tiredness and glancing to the side. It’s quite dark, the skies clouded. You dig into the pocket of your vest, a small blade resting between your fingers. It’s warm from your skin, shining from the lanterns that line the bow.

“We told you to rest,” A voice next to you says.

You turn to him, your gaze shifting upwards to meet his eyes. Despite how daring Yunho’s look is, the scarlet shocks you momentarily. You don’t let it show in your gaze though, expression cool. It is still Yunho, you ponder. Even if he has changed. So, you reach up to trace his chin, pulling back promptly when you feel how frigid it is. He furrows his brows at that, taking a step forward. Without pause you take one back, holding a hand up so that he does not follow.

“Are you well, Rose?”

“It is I who should inquire about that,” you say, swallowing deeply. “Is this choice of yours irreparable? Are you unable to be as you once were?” Forward enough in your words, you hope that there is something you can do to help him. Help them all. He is your Yunho, the man you love. Or, the man you once loved.

"Why?

The question is simple. How a one-word answer can hold so much is beyond you. But you can only stare up at him. The feeling of love is oddly mixed with fear, hurt.

Disgust.

"You're not you any longer," you say, voice hushed. As if you were keeping it away from the others. Just between the two of you. Yunho's expression drops as your words settle, flicking between your eyes. You don't dare catch his gaze, knowing that it will only hurt more. "I cannot love you when you are not even alive."

"Look at me."

"No."

"Rose, please look at me."

"Your eyes are not the same. I can only look at you with terror, Jeong Yunho. And I fear that is the only emotion I will feel until you are well again."

"Rose," His scoff is a bit amused at your wording. You take a sneaking glance at him, watching as he runs his fingers through his locks. They seem shiner, neater in appearance. Too perfect, you think. You look down just as he looks back at you. "I am well. I won't ever feel better than I do at this very moment. Will you never accept me as I am? Will you never accept the rest of us?"

You know your answer. You know how it will hurt him so, the words that you're about to say. But it will only wound him more if you do not meet his gaze while uttering the confession. So your eyes flick to his, wavering at the color staring back at you.

"I cannot love people who are dead, Yunho. I will mourn you. Mourn who you once were. But I will not stay on this ship longer than I must. The next stop will be my last."

"You don't mean that."

You nod solemnly. "A lie has never fallen from these lips."

"You might change your mind. I am sure that you will," His voice is persistent, desperately trying to peel your resolve. "Being together forever can change your mind, you can join us. The others wouldn't hate the thought either. Please think it over."

"Everyone I love is dead, Yunho. And I am not ready to join them in their fate," You're lumping them with your family, all who've perished terrible ends. Except your brother, with whom you hope can come with you once you arrive at the next port. "And I did not come out here to debate you. I am walking to take a breath, without onlookers." And in hopes to find some supplies you may leave with.

His fist relaxes as he takes a breath. It's not what he wanted to hear, that you know, but he doesn't try to dig any further. Instead he nods, stepping away from you. You sigh in relief, the beating of your heart slowing down. The admittance of being afraid of him would never be said. But from his fallen expression, sad eyes, you might not even need to say the words. He knows already. It hurts to see how much it affects him, knowing that you'd never touch one of them again. But it is for the better.

Since they will be dead by your blade soon if you cannot find a solution.

He disappears down the ship, the lantern fading into the dark. You watch his back. Once it disappears, your steps quicken, grabbing an emergency satchel that rests next to the stairs. You look through, frowning as you note the supplies. There is possibly a week’s worth of food in it, maybe more if you rationed, but not enough that you’re confident you will survive more than two weeks out at sea. Walking through the food area and into the kitchen is a risk, especially when you are not sure where everyone is on the ship. Your room is out of the question, Mingi perhaps lingering inside of it, waiting to see you.

The reward outweighs the risk, so you throw the satchel over your shoulder, quickly making your way across the deck. You descend down the steps, not bothering to glance at the quarters to your right. You push the door open, glancing inside of the dining room. It’s quiet. Even the table that you sat at, where Mingi died, is clean, free of the evidence of just hours prior. Lingering around is not the best idea, so you quickly walk through, pushing the door open to the kitchen.

You almost drop your satchel at the sight.

Hongjoong grips Seonghwa’s hips, pressed against him as Seonghwa sits on the counter. The view is erotic in itself, Seonghwa’s head thrown back as Hongjoong’s lips are pressed against it, hips joined together as Hongjoong’s fingers dig into them. Seonghwa’s corset loosened, a moan falling from his lips when Hongjoong pulls him closer. His eyes slowly open, head turned to your direction. They widen immediately upon seeing you standing there, hand touching the back of Hongjoong’s head, tugging. Hongjoong lifts his lips from his neck, a trail of saliva and blood dripping from his lips. His head turns, but before he meets your eyes you twist on your heel and run, throwing your body against the swinging doors. Realizations ring in your head, consuming your thoughts.

Hongjoong was feeding on Seonghwa. How long has this been happening? Seonghwa’s eyes aren’t red, so he’s not turned yet, but was he going to be at that very moment? You have never sensed anything romantic between the two, but was that just your mind too involved with everyone else to see?

None of these questions matter in the long run. What they do in their spare time is none of your concern. You could not grab extra food, so you must deal with what you have. Just as you go to open the dining hall door, a hand slams against it, stopping you. You can recognize his hand quickly, nails painted with blood, rings adorning his fingers. You do not turn around to face him.

“This moment would have been avoided if you would have resided in Seonghwa’s room, my Rose,” Hongjoong’s voice is low, near your ear. You can feel how close he is, barely an inch apart from your body. “What will I do with you now?”

“Please,” you say softly, fear coursing through you. “I will leave, and I will not tell anyone what happened on this ship. I will remain silent until the end of my days, captain.”

He laughs, “The end of your days? My Rose, my pretty Rose, the end of your days will end when this Earth no longer turns. That is quite a long time, you know. Even I would not suggest a promise like that.”

You do not respond.

“Now you will not speak to me, Rose? Will I have to force that pretty voice to speak?”

“What would you like me to say, Hongjoong? Beg for my life? I have told you endlessly that you will never have me. That I will never desire you–”

“Ah, right,” he interrupts. “But you do desire me, Rose. Did you think that I did not know of your love for me, for us all? Denying yourself the pleasure of being mine will only hurt you in the end. Here you are, begging for me to let you go. I thought you said you would never beg me?”

Anger courses through your body, stopping immediately once you feel his fingers brush against your neck. You turn around quickly, stumbling when you see his eyes. His free hand catches you with ease, holding you close. His eyes are completely white, a devilish grin on his lips as you stare at him. He lets you go, his hand still holding the door closed. You move away from him, glancing at the kitchen door. There is no exit, the only one is where Hongjoong stands. He moves his palm off the door, crossing his arms against his chest, head tilted as he stares at you. His shirt is still unkempt, torso exposed to you. You hate that your mind lingers on the image too long. He seems to know as well, his grin only widening.

“What will I do with you, my Rose?” he frowns.

“Let me go.”

His brows furrow. “Let you go? You’ve chosen to stay here with us. Your family. You made that decision on your own.”

“I will be delighted to leave your presence, Hongjoong. In fact, in a few days time, I will be gone. And we will never have to see each other again.” And you hope for that to be true. Even standing here now, your feelings are confusing. Your desire and care for him swirling into your fear of him. How could you possibly fear someone you love? Distance is what you want, need. Staying here any longer will just make it worse.

Hongjoong rests his body against the wood of the ship. “Will you? But your eyes have been cast elsewhere. Seonghwa has taken your fancy instead of I. How could you leave any of them behind?”

“Has he? Because I do recall a good night’s toss in the quarters of Wooyoung. Or was it Yeosang? Jongho? I cannot keep count,” you quirk your brow, fingers brushing against the familiar necklace. His eyes follow your movements, tongue moistening his lips. “Me agreeing to be aboard this ship was never a promise that I will lay with one man. And why would I, when there is an endless supply?”

“You treat us like goods?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you move closer, hand resting a breath away from his. It is a calculated risk you're taking, standing near him so close. But for the chance to leave him, moving closer to the door, you have to. “I treat you like treasure.”

His eyes widen, brown eyes slowly appearing once more. His hand reaches up, pressing your palm against his chest. You feel how warm he is, how human he feels. His eyes meet yours, curious. There are these brief moments you have with Hongjoong, the moments you believe that he is not as bad as he makes himself out to be. That deep, beneath the centuries of feeding on humans, being cursed to live this long life, deep within there is still the human Hongjoong. And in these brief moments, it utterly terrifies you. The slips make you see him, and make you fall deeper into his hands.

“Is it as hard as you make it to be to love me,” his eyes widen, lids heavy as his gaze moves to your lips. “Will it be so difficult to yearn for me as I do for you?”

“No,” you whisper. “And that is why I cannot.”

“Will you continue to pretend there is nothing? Will you push me away further and further, until the end of time?” he asks, his other hand tilting your chin up, your gaze meeting his. “Do you not see? I will fight anything, anyone for you to look at me as you look at the others. For you to give me that sweet smile of yours. Darling, what will I do?” his head tilts closer to you, eyes stuck on your lips.

Your resolve is breaking. You can feel the pumping of his heart beneath your hand.

“I love you,” he says. “Love me.”

“Captain–”

“Love me,” he insists. He moves his hand from yours, taking steps forward. Your back is pressed against the wall, his hands cupping your face. Want lingers on his face, dripping from his gaze. “The enormity of my desire cannot only consume me. There must be some semblance of it in you if you have yet to pull away from me. Tell me, Rose. Tell me.”

“I cannot–”

“You cannot? Or you will not? Is it not there?”

“Captain–”

“Do not call me such a name when I am holding you like this,” he insists. “Tell me you love me, Rose. Let me hear it from your lips, not another’s. Let me in,” he whispers. “Let yourself be completely unraveled with me. Let it consume you, let it drown you so that I may be the one to help you breathe.”

No. You hate how your legs quiver underneath his heated gaze. You pull your hand off of him. The need for escaping is diminished into nothing, your satchel somewhere across the room. You are not even sure when it left your hold, too distracted with the man in front of you. Saying the word, saying it to him. That will be the end of your lying, of you pushing him away. So why are you so willing to do it?

“Rose–”

“I love you,” you say softly. His eyes glaze over, hands dropping from your chin. “I love you to the point of devastation, of fear. I love you so much that it hurts. I love you so much, that I will leave you.”

His eyes widen.

“Do you hear me, captain? I love you, but I will not let it consume me, I will not allow your sweet words to coerce me into staying here with you until the end of time,” you glance to the side, seeing the kitchen door swing open. Seonghwa stumbles out, a bandage wrapped around his neck. It pulls you back to reality. You were going to let him take over you, let him turn you into one of them. “I will be leaving. And I will find a way to save the others.”

Hongjoong is pulled out of his trance, a scowl forming on his lips. "They would have been nothing without me. Without my assistance, without my guidance."

It should not shock you the way it does, how he speaks of them. You look at Seonghwa, his gaze glued to the floor. "They're your family."

His eyes narrow, a sly smile growing on his lips. He takes a step forward just as you take one back, shrugging. Your fingers grip the silver in your hands, ignoring how the blade digs into your palm. "That is true. I was alone and wanted a family so I created my own. But that does not mean that they're entitled to everything that I enjoy. Did you truly believe that they would be with you if I did not permit it? I chose to let them indulge in you. To please you. But in the end, their needs do not matter, Rose. Because you are mine. No one else's."

"The time on sea has deluded your mind, captain. Perhaps a rest will lessen your worries. There's no need for this speech. I'm safe in their hands." Your voice trembles, revealing your true feelings. He picks up on it, leaning against the table nailed into the floor.

"You are afraid of me?" His smile drops, sympathy in his gaze. It's quite eerie how easily his emotions change. "I do not want my Rose to be afraid."

"You are not well–"

"Continue to tell that lie to yourself," His head tilts, meeting the gaze of something behind you. A hand covers yours, your head whipping to meet the new visitor. Subin looks over you, eyes focused on Hongjoong. "Your brother is soon to leave, anyway."

“He is not leaving.”

“I did not tell him to leave us, he chose on his own. I am not this manipulator that you make me out to be, Rose. A lot of decisions are made without my involvement. But I will leave you to your brother, we have much to talk about with the others,” Hongjoong tilts his head slightly, brushing past your brother. His eyes flick to Seonghwa and he immediately follows, leaving the two of you alone. Subin’s eyes move to you, sorrow within them.

“You are leaving?” You ask.

“I cannot stay in a place I am not wanted, Rose.”

“But you’ve been here for years, much longer than the few months that I have. How is it that when I am aboard, suddenly your relationships change? I…” You take a breath, calming yourself. “If my presence on this ship is causing you distress, then I am no longer welcome here. I have planned on leaving, anyway. With you.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No! You can stay, I’ve overstayed my welcome, and this is not your fault, Rose. Please do not place blame on your own shoulders.” He notices the way your body shakes, fingers digging into your dress. He moves closer to you, hands on either side of your face. “I do not want you to leave because you think it is your fault.” His touch is cold, brittle. A switch from when you first learned of his relation to you. “I was never to stay by the captain’s side for long, you’ve known that from the beginning.”

“I cannot leave your side just yet,” you persist. “I know it is selfish, but we’ve just met not too long ago. Before you I thought I was alone in this world. Your presence has made me feel whole again. I will figure out a way to turn you back. I will, Subin. And we can leave this ship together. You do not have to leave me alone here.”

His brows furrow, “Alone? You have your lovers, you will never be alone.”

“They are not my family, my blood, Subin. You are. You’re my brother.”

His head tilts as he stares at you, “The captain cares for you, Rosie. He is your family just as I am. Blood does not matter, that you know first hand.”

Your brows furrow as you stare at him. His eyes are empty as he speaks his words, as if he’s not saying them on his own. “Do you truly believe I will be safe with him, compared to you?”

He nods, a grin immediately plastered against his lips. “Why not? He is the most formidable captain in history. No one will be able to hurt you when you’re on board. But if you decide that this is not for you, I will come back for you. Give him a month’s time, Rosie. Let yourself see that he does not want to do you harm. That he will protect you.”

The man who stands in front of you now is no longer your brother. Your brother would rather die than let you stay upon a ship full of creatures, of men you’ve only known for a short while. Even before he told you who he was you somehow always saw him around the ship when you were alone with one of the guys, keeping an eye on you. The Subin holding your face in his hands is not the Subin you've come to know. There’s nothing else for you to say, so you merely nod. He presses a kiss against your forehead, pulling away.

“It will all be fine,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You watch as the ghost of your brother walks out the dining hall, leaving you alone.

-

In fear of walking into another, you reside in the dining hall for the last few hours until daybreak, slumped over the wooden table. Your thoughts are too consumed to even catch a wink of sleep. What are you to do? Subin will leave on the next stop, and you planned on leaving last night, but things have changed. Could you leave Yeosang behind? Will you leave this found family of yours, trying to run after your old one? The main goal of yours was to find who killed your family, your parents. But now it seems like a lost cause with what is happening in front of you. There’s high doubt that if you told someone what Hongjoong is, they’d believe you. And it is not like you want to do such a thing; in this strange way, you wish him no harm. You love him without even wanting to.

Your lids are heavy once you hear the door open, stomping against the wooden steps. You lift your head, meeting the wary eyes of Jung Wooyoung. Without hesitance you rise to your feet, gripping the satchel. He holds up his hands, eyes moving between yours.

“I’m not going to do anything–"

“Leave me alone,” you move further into the room. He sighs, dropping his hands.

“I suppose this means you will not join us for breakfast.”

“Sarcasm does not suit you, Wooyoung.”

He laughs dryly, pushing his hair away from his face. There’s little evidence of his previous state, nails clean and sharpened, hair free of grease. Even the clothing he wears has no stains on it. Is this what they become? Perfect versions of themselves? It is of no surprise that they desired this then, despite the negatives. He moves closer to the kitchen, nudging his head in the direction. “Want something for the road?”

“I am not hungry.”

The sound of your stomach growling fills the empty room. A toothy grin and minutes of convincing later, you stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching as Wooyoung cooks. You have often flattered the man on his skills, telling him that he should work at the finest restaurants in the city, not stuck feeding a ship full of hungry brigands. He always waved you off whenever you would mention it, assuring you that you’re convinced because you have not had flavorsome food in a while. So watching him work now, his swiftness clearly increased by his new condition, he looks like he relishes it more. Though you do not respond to his statements, he continues to speak on and on about things of frivolous nature. Ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Why would you pretend to be Yeosang?” You ask, watching as he places the food into the bowl. You see the briefest of hesitance as he does so, eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “What did you want to gain out of doing so?”

“Have you not noticed?” His brow raises, “You enjoy his presence much more than anyone else. The two of you compliment one another so well, I thought that you would listen to his words rather than my own. It was an imprudent attempt on my part, knowing that you would know eventually. But speaking to you about profounder topics, listening to your qualms, it is what I always sought after. I am sorry for breaking your confidence, but I do not have remorse for attempting it in the first place.”

“The you only nights ago would have stammered over those words. Now you speak your mind with ease.”

He grins, “Is it not lovely? There’s no fear of rejection, of what you might do when I say what I feel. It is freeing, being able to say each thought.”

Your heart breaks at his words. “I enjoyed you just as you were, Wooyoung. Change was never necessary in my eyes.”

“But it was in mine,” his glee drops, wooden spoon tight in his hold. “I was a shameful man, an even more shameful mate. I could not even stand on my own without the assistance of others. I let my thoughts consume me to the point where I no longer acted on things. That is why I was assigned to the kitchen. The captain knows that I was too inept for any other task. Too frightened to step up. Can you not see how much better it is, standing in front of me? I can tell you anything without that soul-crushing anxiousness looming in the back of my mind. I can speak to you without stuttering, without second-guessing my words. Is that not wonderful? Before I could only let out a sentence, now each of my words has conviction. Weight.”

He moves to step closer to you, but stops once he sees you tense. “I still have not learned my strengths yet, peach. I am terribly sorry for scaring you last night. That is the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I want you to love me, not to be afraid of me. Is there nothing that can make the fear go away?”

There is one thing. The only thing in the world he would not be able to do. He seems to understand that as well, expression dropping.

“I am happy for you, Wooyoung,” you say, taking the bowl off the kitchen slate. “I am happy that you’re more comfortable as you are now. But this feeling inside of me that knows it is wrong will not go away. I am sorry.”

“We are family, Rose,” he whispers, brows furrowed. “Isn’t that supposed to let you accept us as we are, despite our differences now?”

“I am sorry,” you say again, unable to comfort him. You leave the kitchen, satchel strapped to your back as you exit the dining hall. The weather is cooler this morning, bristling against your skin as you walk across the deck. Your eyes meet none as you take the steps down to your room. Just before you enter, your gaze flicks over to your brother’s door. It’s wide open. He never leaves it open. You put your bowl to the side and peek in.

All of his belongings are gone. You enter, eyes scanning each and every surface you can. You open his draws, swing his closet door open. Nothing. It is as if he was never here in the first place. He would not have left without saying goodbye to you. Subin wouldn’t—

You tense. Maybe he would, now. You leave his room, hearing someone else walking down the steps. But you ignore their presence entirely, grabbing your bowl and unlocking your room. You gasp when you see who is inside, bowl falling from your hands. He reaches for it just before it hits the floor, sighing in relief.

Mingi stands, his height looming over yours as he holds out your bowl. For a moment you forget what is happening, why you’re so afraid. Your eyes flick to the bandage covering his neck, coated in day-old blood. Worry crosses your gaze as you take him in, his clothing soaked in red. You move around his outstretched arm, reaching up to hold your hand against his face. And in this moment, you remember.

His hand holds yours against him, a soothing hum escaping him. He is like the others, completely and utterly frigid. You can only look at him in sorrow as he holds your hand tight.

“Have you been here all night?” You ask softly.

He nods, eyes opening to meet yours. You’ve gotten used to the red of them on the others. “I know you were worried, so I came here right after I awoke. Capt’ told me you would be here waiting for me, but you were not. I should not have worried since there are but so many places to go on this ship, but I could not help it. I decided to stay until you came back.”

Perhaps the change affects them all differently. Here you stand in front of Mingi, sure that this is the same man you’ve known. You rest your head against his chest, a sigh escaping you.

“What will I do with you?” you murmur, not at all expecting a response. The exhaustion from barely getting an hour of sleep weighs on you, revelations of what’s happened slowly encasing you. Tonight you’ve drowned in terror, fear of everyone turning. Now you’re just too tired to think it all through. “I’ll speak to you soon, Mingi, alright? I just need some rest.”

“Oh,” he steps back from you, your head lifting to match his gaze. “I’ll be back later tonight, then.”

“Sure,” you give him a strained smile, watching as he walks out the door. He closes it behind him. You lock it in an instant, falling into a heap on your bed. Though there is much to think about, you let your thoughts leave you, slipping into unconsciousness.

-

You’re woken up to the sound of thunder, jolted from your rest. You wipe your eyes glancing at the small gap underneath your door. It’s no longer bright outside, and from the sound of it, it seems as if you’re stuck in a storm. The bowl to the side of you remains uneaten, and you take a bite of it, frowning at the lukewarm temperature. Though his food is always pleasant, it is better to be eaten hot rather than cold. After a few more bites, you let your mind settle, your anxious thoughts coming back tenfold.

Your brother is gone. Only Seonghwa and Yeosang have yet to turn, and you’re not too sure that the eldest is still human as of now. Mingi lurks around the corners waiting to speak to you, and Yunho is… a question in itself. You’re not sure where you stand with him. Wooyoung and San are turned as well, the latter’s whereabouts unknown. You have not seen Jongho either, though your throat tightens at even taking a glimpse of the man. And the captain. The captain that knows you’re in love with him, and might take that to his advantage. You almost slipped into his hold this morning. Being alone with him is the last thing you’d like to do.

What has gotten into you? Has residing on this ship dulled your senses? Being this troubled about men that are no longer men should have stopped everything. Once you’ve seen Hongjoong come back to life, you should have left. You had the opportunity. Why did you not just walk up that mountain and leave Jongho behind? Why are you so entangled in these men’s lives? And even now as you scold yourself, why have you not conjured up a plan to leave?

The questions only scare you. Because despite your intentions, you’re not sure you will ever leave this ship. You’re free of chains and yet you sit here, letting it all happen to you. Leaving your lady and the only home you’ve known to this maze of lies and feelings. You do not reject meeting them. Letting their happiness sink into you. Staying at your master’s home hardened you, but being on a ship with these men has softened your heart. No, you will never regret meeting all of them. You just regret not being able to save them the way they’ve saved you.

A quick change of clothing and you slip from your room. Staying inside all night is pretty ideal. You’re just very sure that one, or more, would knock on your door sooner rather than later. You take the steps up to the deck, the top eerily quiet. Once Hongjoong rid of the crew at the last stop, there’s been little noise around. You see the others often, but not like before. And now with their change, the quiet is unsettling. You should be searching for any trace of your brother, even if you’re sure he’s long gone. A quick peek over the side-railings and you notice that the ship is close to shore. How long did you sleep exactly? Freedom is just a wave away.

Laughter catches your attention, San and Yeosang walking down the deck. A burlap bag is slung over San’s shoulder, Yeosang nudging him as they speak. You cannot hear them over the loud waves crashing against the ship, a chill traveling down your spine at the temperature drop. There’s doubt that they would try steering the ship to shore now, the waves too erratic to navigate.

“Sleep evades you often,” Mingi says, standing just behind you. He apologizes quickly once he realizes that he startled you. “I waited a bit outside your door for an hour but thought against waking you. Everyone has already had dinner. I believe that Wooyoung left your plate just outside your door.”

“I honestly did not even check,” you admit, turning back to him. “I should go back then—”

“No!” His voice is louder now, catching the attention of San and Yeosang. Just as you blink he is gone, reappearing at the top of the steps, plate in hand. He holds it out to you, your eyes flicking over the rain covered food. His widen, a sheepish look crossing his face. “I did not even consider—”

“No need to fret, Mingi,” you wave him off. “I’ve already eaten when I woke. Though it is a waste for me, I am sure the livestock would not mind a bit of rainwater with their food.”

“Even as a jiāngshī, he is still just a clumsy man,” San snickers, resting his hand on Mingi’s shoulder. His gaze moves to you, smile slipping slightly. With Hongjoong, he could feel the change of emotion, the fear as you stood just by him. The drop in his expression only confirms that he feels just like his captain. You swallow, glancing to the side. Yeosang still stands there, a slight nod. You move closer to him, until you hear San’s voice.

“Will you avoid me?”

“San,” Yeosang sighs.

“Is it not a valid question? Each time one of us encounters her she shies away. You told us you would accept our change and not sway any longer. Why are you changing tune now?”

Your eyes narrow. “Am I not allowed to have fear of the unknown? Of what you may do? Did Wooyoung not tell you?” Confusion crosses his eyes. “So he has not.”

“Rose? What’s going on?” Mingi speaks up.

“Wooyoung pretended to be Yeosang while I was in Seonghwa’s quarters. He manipulated me into speaking with him, to divulge my emotions because I only do so with Yeo. He spoke about my explicit encounters with him. So forgive me if I am a bit hesitant on speaking to any of you for longer than casual conversation. If Wooyoung’s intentions have changed overnight, then I can no longer trust any of you who have become like the captain.”

You feel Yeosang’s hand brush against yours, letting your fingers fold together. He presses his lips against your temple, calming you down for a brief moment. San and Mingi watch the interaction. There is nothing but bitterness in San’s gaze, and longing in Mingi’s. You would have pushed their worries to the side right at those looks, but now… you cannot. Yeosang pulls you away from the two, leading you around the bow of the ship, down the steps to your room. He glances around once to make sure the two of you are alone, then pulls you into his arms. You tuck your face into the curve of his neck, a long, tired sigh escaping you.

“I am deeply sorry,” Yeosang says. “If I’d have known, there would have been no hesitance in me seeing you.”

“This is not your fault, Yeosang. You don’t control the actions of others. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

His expression is still heartbroken, so you reach up and hold his face in your hands, a light shake to pull him from his thoughts. “It is not your fault, Kang Yeosang. Okay? None of this is.”

“It feels as if I failed to protect you,” he admits, covering your hands with his. “It’s hard to push the thought away. If I would have known he was planning such a thing, or if it even happened at all, I would have ran to you. I just never anticipated something like this happening, it is of no wonder that you have been to yourself. Why would you want to see any of us after such an event?”

“Because I care for you all, in a bizarre and anomalous way,” you whisper softly, closing your eyes. “Yeosang, I am leaving.”

His grip on you tightens, body shaking. “I thought you said—”

“I cannot handle being here anymore. I thought I would be able to somehow conjure up good reasoning for me to stay, but there is none. I no longer belong. I cannot move past this no matter how much I want to. I’m sorry that I was not strong enough.”

He tilts your chin to meet his gaze, “You’ve always been strong, my Rose. And as you’ve done with us, I will do with you as well. If you want to leave I will not try to convince you otherwise. But the others, they will be devastated.”

“I know. That’s why I’m leaving tonight.”

If his eyes could stretch any wider they would. “Pardon?”

“I plan on leaving without telling the rest. The tides are high but I can manage with one of the smaller boats-”

“Yeo, Rose?”

Both of your eyes move to the newcomer, Wooyoung, standing idly by the door. He rubs his arms though he cannot feel cold, brows furrowed as he keeps his gaze glued to the floor. You make no move to comfort him and neither does Yeosang, his eyes sharp as Wooyoung takes another step in.

“Not now, Wooyoung,” he turns back to you. “I would rather you leave.”

He seems to crumble underneath Yeosang’s words, eyes flicking to you. In all honesty you would rather you not see him ever again, but that is unlike you. Letting a situation like this linger is the last thing you’d like. Instead, you nod, gesturing for him to move closer. He looks small, sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the room, eyes flicking back and forth as he stares at the floorboards.

“I-”

“You disgust me,” Yeosang starts. “You are a disgusting man, do you know that?”

“Yeo,” you touch his shoulder. “Let him speak.”

“Has he not spoken enough?” He scoffs, but relaxes underneath your touch.

Wooyoung sighs, stopping once he sees the look Yeosang gives him. “I made a mistake. I was being selfish, I took my new gift as an advantage. I messed up. This is no one’s fault but my own, and I am sorry that I did this to you. To the both of you. Feeling at a disadvantage because of my own selfish reasons should not have made me want to trick you, Rose. I fucked up,” he admits, eyes moving to Yeosang. “And I broke your trust. I do not expect to be forgiven, if I am ever. I let my inner thoughts take over me, let my craving for attention ruin me. I am terribly sorry, Yeosang. Rose. I am.”

You stare at him, knowing that his words ring true. But even with that, there is the chance he may do it again. You let out a light sigh, nodding. “Thank you for telling me. I’m not sure if my forgiveness will ever be given to you, but I accept your words as true. If anything like this happens again, I will not be as calm as I am now.” Your tone is sure. “Do you understand, Wooyoung?”

His eyes widen as he nods quickly. Yeosang does not say anything and you do not expect him to, playing with his fingers. “We’ve known each other for over a decade, friend,” he whispers, eyes glued to the floor. “You are one of my closest friends, and despite this situation it will not change between us. I have accepted you as you are now without hesitance. I do not appreciate you hurting Rose this way, using my voice to attempt manipulation. I know your words are filled with sorrow, Woo, I know that better than anyone. Please do not… do not make me no longer trust you. Do not make me do that.”

“I won’t,” Wooyoung says, reaching over. His hand touches his. You look between them, their fingers curling into each other’s. Yeosang looks up at him, an indiscernible look in his eyes, Wooyoung matching him. “I won’t do it again.”

“Okay,” Yeosang breaths, closing his eyes briefly. “I plan on resting with Rose tonight if she so wishes, so do not wait for me if I do not come promptly.” His eyes move to yours. You nod, a smile on your lips. Your escape is only paused momentarily.

-

The time between then and now, Yeosang’s arms wrapped around you, Wooyoung on the opposite side of his. You in fact, never expected to be entrapped in their embrace, still angry at Wooyoung’s actions. Though you do not forgive him just yet, letting him rest in his room alone is never what you wanted. You could see from his eyes that he yearned to stay the night. So you suggested it and he agreed quickly, tucking himself beneath the blankets. You only laughed. And now here you are, the sun bright against your skin, staring at the open door. Mingi stands there, waving to you as he glances at the two men in your bed. You attempt to move, only pulled closer into Yeosang’s chest.

“Will we stay here for the remainder of the morning sun?” You whisper to him. His breath tickles your neck as he laughs. “You will have me until the end of time if you would like, Yeosang. But I must go.”

His laugh stops. The two of you have not discussed further your revelation, the double-meaning behind your words only making you nervous.

“Please do not leave,” he whispers. That seems to catch the attention of the other men in the room, Wooyoung stirring just behind him. Mingi’s brows furrows, glancing between you and him. “We can work this out-”

“This is not a public discussion.”

“Are you leaving?” Mingi asks. “You told me only nights ago-”

“For fuck’s sake,” You huff, pulling yourself from Yeosang’s arms. “Yes, I am leaving, okay? And I am sure this conversation will not remain between us all, so now I have to leave quickly.”

“What must we do to convince you?” Wooyoung asks, quickly standing up from his resting place. His hair is wild and silly, and if it were not for the circumstances you would laugh at it. But you can only shake your head, reaching down to grab your satchel. “The waves are too high, Peach. You may die before escaping-”

“Do not try to convince me; you will fail just as I have failed to convince all of you. Leave it be. Nothing will change my mind.”

“What will you do? Run to your brother? He is no longer in that city, Rose. He has left with his friends. It is a very small chance you will find him.”

You turn to Mingi, glaring. “I do not care.”

“Will you stay for Yeosang?” Wooyoung asks. “Is that enough?”

“If he so wanted, he could come with me.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened, “You would let me go with you? I- they are my family, Rose. I would not leave, even if I so desired.”

“And I know that,” you say softly. “I never suggested it because I know you would not leave them to come with me. And that is okay.”

“Why do you care for him and not for us?” Wooyoung’s voice rises in volume. “You told Jongho you loved us all. You said that, and yet here you are with him. What is the difference? What makes him different in comparison, Rose? Why can you not love us as you do him?”

You’ve avoided, moved around the truth. “I cannot love people who are dead, Wooyoung.”

He stills. Mingi, who has not spoken for a while, breaks the silence. “Because we have turned into this, you will no longer love us?”

“As I have told Yunho,” you say, turning back to him. “Everyone that I have loved is dead. The only person I have left is Yeosang. You cannot fault me for favoring him at this very moment.”

“We are standing right in front of you, speaking to you, and you dare say we are dead? I have never felt more alive, Rose. We are evolved, we are something else entirely.”

You shake your head, “You are not alive, and we all know that. You died that night Hongjoong stabbed you in your neck, Mingi.”

“Then what?” he swallows. “You no longer love us.”

“I love who you were. Not who you are now.”

Wooyoung laughs loudly, startling you. “Is that so? You no longer love us because of a change overnight? Is that it? You will not even attempt to try and move past it, is that it?” His eyes flick to Yeosang. “I have accepted my friend’s decision to stay as a human because I love him. I will not want him to do anything he does not want. I accepted that I will not have my best friend by my side for eternity. I planned on… convincing him sooner or later. But your words are strange to me, Rose,” Wooyoung moves closer to Yeosang. He rests his hand on his shoulder. “I wonder if your feelings will change as suddenly as they have for us if he turned right now.”

Yeosang tenses up. He attempts to move but Wooyoung tightens his hold. “I cannot live without my best friend, Yeosang. And Rose says she will no longer love you if you were anything other than human. Shall we test that?”

“Wooyoung.”

He holds his hand against the edge of the dresser, dragging it across harshly. His wrist begins to bleed as he presses it against Yeosang’s mouth, forcing the blood into his mouth. He gags against his hold, desperately trying to get him to stop. Tears roll down his cheeks, eyes flicking to yours.

"Stop!" You push against Mingi's hold, but it's of no use. Wooyoung grips Yeosang's body, forcing his wrist against his mouth. Crazed eyes hold him close, fingers almost piercing Yeosang's shoulder with how elated he is.

“This is all for you, Rose. We will test that will of yours.”

You cry, falling to your knees, unable to do anything. Mingi continues his whispering of comforting words to help you calm, but you only feel your heart breaking. The one man who wanted to stay by your side, the only one who understands what a curse this is–

Wooyoung lifts your knife you left on your shelf, stabbing it into his chest. The stress in your body overwhelms you, body shaking as you lose consciousness.

-

Yeosang has not opened his door since that morning.

It’s been several weeks, and you have not seen him at all. The need to leave has significantly decreased into nothing. Your brother is long gone, and your Yeosang is no longer human. And despite how cold you’ve treated the rest, he’s never wanted this. He begged against Wooyoung’s hold, begging for him to stop. But the two of you trusted him too easily, and thought of him as the old Wooyoung. It is your fault for letting him stay that night. None of this would have happened. If you let him leave, you would be gone. Perhaps Yeosang would have joined you. But now you’re too afraid to leave him here alone, and too scared to attempt to leave yourself.

It was either Mingi or Wooyoung who told the rest of your plan. After that, none of them left you alone for more than a few seconds. Even while you were cleaning yourself off, you opened the door to one of them waiting for you. Joining the crew now feels more like you’re restrained against your will to stay on the ship. And the one piece of calamity, humanity that you had left is no longer human. And you cannot see him even if you desire it. Which you do, desperately.

“He will come around to open his door for you, Rose,” Jongho says as he watches you eat, nursing a glass of blood. You still have not gotten used to the metallic smell surrounding you. Sometimes they left the ship while it was docked, stumbling back on with glass jars filled with blood. One night you heard screams on board and you could not fall asleep, knowing that just a few doors down they were killing a human. All of the men you love turning into these… creatures. Even Seonghwa, the gentle, calm Seonghwa you could not await to see, scares you a bit. You were never afraid of him, even as a jiāngshī. Now you cannot help but jump when you do not hear his silent steps. Meet his red eyes.

“Has he fed?” You ask softly.

“... It was very little. The jars we bring onboard are for him. Wooyoung keeps him company, even if he does not like it.”

“What will happen to me, Jongho?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will one of you come to me, force your blood down my throat so that I become one of you? Is that what I am to look forward to?”

He shakes his head, “No-”

“Do not sit here and tell me that you will never, that none of them will never when I clearly know that it would happen. I have witnessed it in front of me. If Wooyoung turned his best friend of years into a jiāngshī there is little hope for me. Months are miniscule in comparison,” You rub your face, dropping your spoon into the bowl. “Why will you not let me go?”

“We want you to love us,” he says, placing his glass on the side. “You have grown to love us as thieves, why can you not love us as jiāngshī? It is not like we've not killed before. This should be more reasonable. We are only doing it now to live. Is that not better in your eyes?”

Oh, they all have lost their minds. “Do you hear yourself?”

“It is not unreasonable, Rose. We killed and murdered countless times prior, even if you did not want to see it. We were never good men, and I am sorry that upsets you but nothing has changed except that we are now above being a human.”

“Hongjoong is cursed, Jongho!” You stand. “He died a horrible death and turned into this monster because of his wrongdoings, and now he has dragged the rest of you along with him! How can you not see this?” You hold your face in your hands, dragging your palms along it. “You are mad. You all are mad and of no sound mind, and I will not be a part of your delusions. I will not succumb to your madness. I will have none of it.”

You turn to leave and he stands. You stop, turning back around. “You will not follow me.”

He sighs, “You know that I do not have a choice in the matter.”

“Then finally make one, Jongho, instead of following your captain with your tail between your legs.” You leave him alone in the dining hall, stomping up the steps. You see a few of the men out and about, working on their duties on the ship. You pay none of them any mind, ignoring how the rain coats your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

Giving up on leaving does not mean you will tolerate their words.

"We will do everything we must to make her stay alive, long enough to turn her."

You stop in your tracks, turning to the Captain’s door. Several of them stand inside, none of them noticing you just a few steps away. You swing the door open fully, all of their eyes meeting yours. Curious, red eyes. You stand at the doorway, pointing your finger in the direction of the captain. "You are… saying these things about me. And for all of you to listen? I cannot comprehend exactly what your thought process is, but I will not be forced into something that I do not want."

"It's for your own good, my Rose," Hongjoong says simply. "You will learn to enjoy it."

"I will never enjoy drinking your blood, a human’s blood. You…" You clench your fist. "You will have to tie me down before I'd agree."

Hongjoong stares. You've never been able to read his expression, often clouded by the permanent smirk on his lips. But this time, it slowly molds into a sneer, eyes glowing. "If I must."

The others don't say a word. Not even Yeosang, his jaw clenched as he stares at the floorboards. Fear courses through you. What were you thinking? Barging in has only sped up the process of them turning you against your will. You could have held out longer, could have escaped and locked yourself away to die. Instead, you're faced with seven jiāngshī and their master pulling the strings. Waiting to tie you along with them.

You turn on your heel and run, stumbling slightly at your swift turn. You hear nothing behind you. You take a curious glance back, absolutely stopping completely in fear. Just steps away are the others, jumping over barrels and other obstacles to get to you. Panic courses through your body as you maneuver around objects in your way, jumping over the railing to the floor below. Pain hits your body in just that instant but you push through, throwing yourself into your room door and locking it behind you. You lift your slacks.

The shape of your ankle is twisted in an awkward position, tears rolling down your cheeks from the immense pain. Knocks on your door only make your fear worsen.

"We can break it down, Rose. All of this is unnecessary."

"I will not be put into a position that I do not want," you say back to San, rubbing your ankle. Your teeth dig into your lip as you hiss, head throbbing. "You all can fuck yourselves."

"Don't speak to me that way." You can hear how his voice cracks, but you don't care. Not now. Not when your life's on the line. You glance around the room, eyeing the small window to the deck. You're sure the others must be somewhere near where you are, but you have little options. You lift the latch, halfway through just as San opens the door. His stomps pick up but you've already slipped through, pain rushing through you as you grunt, slowly making your way to the opposite end of the ship. You hold your knife tight in your hand. The last thing you desire is killing any of them. But if it comes down to it, you would do what you must to stay alive. Your body hits the railing. Trying to steady yourself, you place pressure on your bad ankle and cry out, falling to your knees. Several footsteps make it closer and closer to you. You can feel your blood rushing to your ears, unable to control the fear.

"What have you done to yourself, my dear Rose?" Yunho whispers softly, taking a step to you. You shake your head, moving further into the railing. Just on the opposite side is the ocean, waves crashing against the sides. "Don't get too close, you might–"

"That is what I am planning on, my dear," you can't hide the sourness in your tone, a scowl on your lips. Your eyes shift to the next few men appearing just behind him. "Leave me alone, do not come near me."

"You expect us to move away when you're risking your life at this very moment?" Jongho asks, shaking his head. "We are not leaving you."

"Then I will leave you all," you slip a leg between the railings, panic immediately flashing in their eyes. "If I am to die, it will be on my terms."

"You would rather die than be with any of us?"

"I don't want this eternal life you speak of!" You shout over the rushing waters. "I want to live as a human. Why are you so desperate to force my hand? You all have changed. This decision you've made has changed you," your eyes shift to Hongjoong. Unlike the rest, he hangs back. Watching. Anticipating. An irritating grin on his lips. Almost eerie the way he smiles. "You've all become different iterations of that man. I do not enjoy it."

"I am still the same," Seonghwa says softly. "We are still the same, Rose."

"The Seonghwa I once knew would have not forced me to do something I did not desire. You would not have watched me die. Do you not remember how you felt when you found out Sejun killed me? You were heartbroken, distraught. How could you stand there and tell me nothing has changed?" You lean forward. "You scare me, Seonghwa."

His body crumbles, knees hitting the wooden floorboards. His body shakes as he takes in your words.

"We can remove the fear once you turn. You'll no longer feel it–"

"Do you not get it? I want to feel fear. I want these emotions. They are what make me human. Make me alive,” You look at Hongjoong. “It is not surprising that you are the way you are. If I knew you were a jiāngshī then, I would have never entered this ship."

A hand grips your arm just as you’re distracted, pulling you away from the railing. You scream, thrashing against Jongho’s hold as he holds you close. He looks at you with sadness. You notice blood coating his lips, glancing down at his hand. A deep, jagged cut shines in the light, the rain diluting how it looks. You kick and scream against him, crying as he holds you.

“Jongho, please don’t, please. I’ll listen, I’ll stay, please don’t turn me into it. Please Jongho-”

“I’m sorry Rose, it’ll be quick okay? Really quick, I will not let you suffer.” He pushes his hand against your mouth as you thrash, crying out. Your hands grip his arms, gagging as you accidentally swallow his blood. He pulls away, letting you fall to the wooden boards. You gag, coughing, desperate to get it out of your body. Realizing that you cannot, you try to stand, only for him to stand above you, holding the same silver knife that you just had in your hands. His eyes are wide. He is smiling.

Smiling as he stands over your body.

“It’ll be quick, Rose.” He brings it against your neck as you gasp, your screaming cut off. You feel it sink into your skin, gripping it tightly. Hongjoong moves around him, crouching next to you. His eyes flick over yours, ubiquitous glee radiating from his gaze. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead as the pain consumes you. Just as you feel the brush of him, your eyes roll back, falling unconscious.

-

Cold.

That is all you feel as you sit in your room, ignoring the knocks, the calls. Eventually they all left you alone, letting your thoughts consume you. You can feel how the cold seeps into your skin, the hardness of your body, the strange blue tint of your skin. It is not that noticeable in the dark, but moreso in the light. As if you were ever illuminated by moonlight. You touch the bandage against your neck, the smell of your dried blood making your stomach growl. You felt faint at the smell, but now all you can think of is drinking it. Letting the taste coat your tongue, spread in your body. The craving is overwhelming, clouding your mind.

Your door opens. You could smell him before he entered the room. Smell.

“Rose-”

You shut your eyes. “The last person I want to see is you.”

You can smell the jar of blood in his hands, the glass doing nothing to mask it. Your nose flares, sinking yourself further into your bedsheets. “Leave.”

“You have to drink-”

"I thought I could live," you say through the fabric. "I thought that after my wretched and tiresome life, I'd finally live. That I'd finally found my family, and we could be happy just being in the presence of one another. I begged for happiness my whole life and just when I've gotten it, it's pulled from my grasp. And I'm not sure if any of you can understand how it feels to be abandoned your whole life and having a semblance of happiness chewed up and spat out in your face. Yeosang and I are suffering greatly, and all you can do is beg for me to enjoy being unable to live."

"You have all the time in the world to live. You've been given more time–"

"I did not want this, why can't you understand me? Why?" you suck in a breath, eyes burning. Jongho tries to take a step closer to you but you move further into your bed. "Leave me."

"Please–"

"Leave me Jongho, or you will never be able to lay eyes on me again." Your words are sure. You can see how he hesitates, fingers opening and closing as he tries to navigate his scattered thoughts. Only a moment later does he leave you be, shutting the door. Right when he does it you fall to the floor. Your body lets out a scream unlike anything you've ever felt. Body shaking, head throbbing. The burning of your throat does not subside, neither does the ache in your stomach. You feel starved. The door swings open moments later. You already know who it is, not bothering to meet his gaze. He pulls you into his arms, the tremble of his body matching yours.

"I am so terribly sorry, my love," Yeosang cradles you close to his body, just as cold as yours. "I am so sorry he pulled your choice away from you."

"I don't want this, Yeosang," you cry into his chest. "I want to be a human, I don't want this."

“I’m so so sorry,” he whispers. “I could not stop it even if I desired it. Wooyoung, since he has turned me, has control over me. He told me to stay while they dealt with you. I had no other choice,” he tries to sniffle but it only comes out as a dry cough. “I am so sorry they’ve done this to you.”

Yeosang stays with you, never asking you to drink blood once. You know that he already has - he told you explicitly - but he insists that he will not do it to you. You lift your head to meet his gaze, slightly startled at the sight. Though you should have expected to see the familiar tint shining back at you, it startles you. Yeosang’s gaze is only filled with sorrow. You’ve found out quickly that tears will not form no matter how much you want them too, matching his gaze.

He presses his forehead against yours, sighing softly. “They will come for you, and I cannot do anything about it.”

“What for?”

He does not explain further, but you already know. You grip his shirt between your fingers, thinking. “I will leave before they can.”

Yeosang left soon after that to tend to his duties. You press yourself further into the corner, ignoring how Mingi paced back and forth in your room. You feel the burn in your throat, the need for blood. You’ve ignored it successfully so far, but you can feel how it weighs on you. The longer you do not drink the more it hurts.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” He paces back and forth across from you, glancing at your figure. “If you just let me aid you, then—”

“I told you countless times, love,” Your breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. They’ve reiterated that there is no need for breathing since you’ve turned into this, but you cannot bother to care. “My mouth will not be filled with another’s blood. I refuse it.”

“Then you would rather die?” Mingi stops, brows furrowed. “You would rather end your life here than continue to spend it with us?”

“This form of mine is not natural. We as humans are to die a normal death, not stay forever. Hell is on Earth already, why would I want to linger longer? I have lost everything.”

“You still have us. Is that not enough?” Mingi steps closer to you, crouching on your side. Your senses are heightened now, the smell of blood lingering on his figure. If you look closely, you can see a bit of it still beneath his fingernails. “Are we not enough?”

“Don’t make me answer that,” your voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes; are they just the same as yours? If you do not die, will you have to wear darkened glasses your whole existence? Unable to meet the gaze of others in fear that they may torture you? “I was forced into this life. Do not expect me to enjoy it. I cannot even… I cannot even desire the taste of fruit anymore. The one indulgence I have given myself since my family perished. He has taken everything from me.”

“It was a mistake—”

“Do not lie to me,” you sit up, gaze down to him. Fear crosses his face as you meet his eyes. “He could not hide the pleasure in his eyes before he bit me. He took it upon himself to make the decision for me. You know that I did not want this, Mingi. So do not ask me to pretend. I won’t.”

“Then…” his voice is hush, hands reaching for yours. You let him have his time, his moment of vulnerability with you. He rests his head against your hands. Your Song Mingi was always a warm man, consistently testy about the temperature on the ship. But as your hand caressed his skin, all you felt was bitter cold. “What can I do?”

You close your eyes, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead. Chill.

“You can let me die. And you can tell him to never see me again.”

He shakes his head, “Yunho is coming. He will bring you to town for you to indulge. You will no longer suffer, Rose.” He smiles, lip quivering. “You will live.”

“I will not allow that,” you say sternly. Yunho steps inside just as you utter the words, Mingi looking back at him. Without any words, he moves around Mingi, pulling you from your bed. You scream and tug on him as he takes you from your room. You spot the eyes of the others watching him, hope in their eyes. You struggle against Yunho’s arms as he drags you from the ship, his strength overpowering yours with ease. Despite how deep your fingers dig into his flesh he does not let it stop him. Your bare feet drag against the wooden platform, splinters digging into your soles. Your best efforts are only mute with his determination.

“You will eat,” he says solemnly. “This would be easier if you would cooperate. It’s not as immoral as you make it seem.”

“I do not want to harm.”

He spins your body towards him, eyes darkened as they meet yours. “Everyone could die on this island and I would barely give it a second thought. Do you think I care about their lives? What harm you will do to them? Do you?”

His hands encase your wrists, glare seeping into your gaze. “I'd relish in this city burning before I watch you starve yourself because you’re too frightened to drink some blood, Rose. If I have to force your face into the concrete as I pour it down your throat, I will. By the end of this night you will be choking on it.”

“Hongjoong does not agree—”

Yunho laughs, eyes wild. “Whose idea do you think it was to bring you out here? If it was not me dragging you it would have been one of the others. Just accept it.” He throws you to the ground. You cough up dirt, crying as he drags you through the dark. The city is quiet. You cannot fathom how not one person leaves their home to hear the commotion, ignoring your screams.

“This is a thief’s city, Rose. They all hear you but they could not care less. It is just like a lullaby to them, another whisper in the night. Ah, here we go.” He stops at a small field. You look, seeing two parents at a bench, watching their daughter play in the sand. He smiles, glancing down at you. “Looks like we’ve found your dinner, Rose.”

You look at them speaking in low tones, laughing by themselves. You shake your head, cries emerging from you as you fight against him. It is hopeless in the end as he tosses you just in front of the bench. You cough against the sand, wiping your lips. The father looks startled, crouching down.

“Oh miss, are you alright?” His wife asks, handing you her handkerchief. You ignore it, your fingers digging into the sand. The pulsing of their hearts fill your ears, the thought of their blood on your tongue causing your mouth to go dry. You can hear their daughter giggling in the distance as they try to help you. Her fingers touch your skin, a small squeal escaping her lips. Thump.

“You’re so cold! How long have you been out here?” She asks, concern etched in her words. Thump.

“Please,” you beg, not daring to meet their eyes. “Run, please.”

“Here honey, have some tea,” She holds out her small bottle, gesturing for you to take it in your hands. Thump. You shake your head, unable to move from your spot. “It will be alright.”

The father yells, the familiar screams that you’ve heard for nights on end echoing in the dark. His wife turns to him just as you look up. Yunho has already torn out his neck, the wife yelling as she stands. Her cries should frighten you, push you away. But the smell of blood overwhelms your senses, filling every part of your head.

It is at that moment when you lose yourself.

"She's a child, Rose," Yunho’s grip on your forearm pulls you away from your bloodthirsty senses. Your eyes meet the young girl, her lip quivering as the two of you stand there. She's a child. She's probably not much older than you were when your parents died. You look at the carnage you left behind, the body parts scattered about. Was that her parents? You don't remember anything, you can barely remember feeding at all. Yunho pulls your focus away, dragging you back. "It's okay, we were all like this our first time."

Child. You were close to murdering a child. You can still hear her heartbeat in your ears, thumping rapidly as Yunho shuts the door to the ship. When did you arrive? How much time has passed? You fall to your knees, staring at the blood coating your hands.

"Did I kill her parents?"

"Rose…"

"Did I kill her fucking parents, Yunho?" You grip his slacks. Though he does not confirm it, you can see it from the look in his eyes. How he gazes at you with utter pity. "I ruined her."

"It was a mistake. We shouldn't have let you out this early–"

"I ruined her life. I couldn't control myself, and I orphaned her, Yunho," you crumble to the floor, body shaking. "I made her lose everything."

"Hey, hey, get out of your head–"

"I hurt her family, and I almost killed her. And I enjoyed it," you gasp, hands flying to cover your lips. "I enjoyed it, Yunho," your voice cracks, eyes shaking. He lifts you from the floor with ease, carrying you up the ladder. The carnage flashes in your head over and over, the scared look on her face only pulling you deeper into your thoughts. You jump at the sound of a door opening, Yunho placing you on the seat. A warm hand touches you, lifting your chin.

Your gaze meets his, his captain’s staring back at you. Blood stains his white linen shirt as he stares down at you, hat thrown to the ship floors. The others stand behind him, their attire covered with it as well. He looks at you with concern, but you’re gasping, hands shaking as you stare at them. Red. Red between the nails, dripping onto the wood below. Flashes of red over and over again in your head. Screams echoing just behind it.

“I killed them,” you say through sobs, body trembling. “They were screaming and I killed them, Joong.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just take a breath Sea-”

“They were begging for their lives and I killed them!” You yell, desperately wiping your hands against the wooden boards. “I’m a killer. I’ve hurt innocent people. I won’t ever be forgiven. I cannot. I cannot be forgiven.” Your words begin to mix, thoughts taking over instead. You feel a cool hand touch your thigh and you jump back, turning to look at them.

Seonghwa looks down at you, wet streaks on his face. “You are not a murderer.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” you cry out, your hand covered in splinters with the way you’re dragging it across the wood. But it doesn’t hurt in the slightest, only frightening you more. “I’m a monster.”

“Dare you call yourself that? After everything we have done to make you this way? Everyone, leave,” Hongjoong’s brows furrow. “Do you know what I have done to make you come here?” Hongjoong grip is tight as he drags you around his desk. You do not utter a word in fear of agitating him. He lets go of your hand, swinging open the cabinet just behind his desk. What you presumed would be cartons of wine is instead, portraits. He waits patiently as you move closer, eyeing the photos he displays. Your eyes widen, noticing a particular man that looks oddly familiar. Staring longer, all of them do. The man who winked at you in the marketplace while you were with Jongho, every single man who previously spoke to you aboard this ship. Sejun rests there as well, along with other conquests of yours before arriving on the ship. You try moving back but Hongjoong blocks your path. He points to every single one, eyes wild as they meet yours.

“All of them tried to touch my treasure, some did,” he adds, a twitch in his lip. “But in the end they all perished. Some more so than others. Despite their sour appearance, all of them tasted quite pleasant. A shame that your mother walked in on me killing your father. She was just part of the aftermath.”

He lets go of your arm, and you fall to your knees. You can feel the pressure in your temples, the throbbing all consuming. Even as he speaks you can barely hear through the anger and sadness swimming through your body, chest tight enough to barely let you breathe. Hongjoong touches you and you haven’t the will to push him away, eyes meeting him. Odd how there is reputance in his irises, sadness as he meets yours. Mocking your own. You cannot speak even if you would like to, his fingers all too hot, all too burning against your cool skin.

“It’s okay,” he whispers against your temple. His arms slowly wrap around you, cradling your trembling body against his chest. He hums softly, his cheek pressed against your forehead. He begins to sing an eerily familiar tune. The same one your mother used to sing to you as a child when you were upset. It does anything but calm you, your body tensing as he continues to hum it. “Your mother used to love when I sang this to her Rose,” he starts. “She told me I had a beautiful voice. She loved me, you know. It is unfortunate that she disappeared that night. It was only luck that I found her at the market when you were a young woman, with another man. He had to die, do you see now, Rose? He took my treasure away from me. I am so glad you look just like her,” he holds his face against yours. “It is as if nothing has changed.”

You sob without tears, pushing against his chest. He only holds you tighter, your immortal strength nothing in comparison to his. “Stop-”

“She told me to stay away from you Rose, but how could I? You look just like her. And now you will stay like this until the end of time. I will cherish every moment I have with you,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I even killed Wooyoung’s brother once I found out what he did to you. I did this all for you.”

Wooyoung’s brother? “What are you saying?” You cough, “I never heard of his brother.”

“Oh, did he not tell you?” Hongjoong’s lips lift. “Your old lover, Sejun, Rose. He was Wooyoung’s hyung. His flesh and blood. He begged for me to not throw him off, but he hurt my Rose. Wooyoung is lucky that I merely threw him into the sea, and not tortured the man.”

The overload of information only makes you sink deeper into yourself. You’ve fallen in love with the man who killed your parents. Who was obsessed with your mother to the point where he let his feelings merge to you. Deluded himself into thinking that you were just another version of her. And now you find out that Sejun, the man who you’ve hated, was Wooyoung’s brother. How could you look at him in the eyes now, knowing this? Knowing that with your fast tongue, you’ve killed his family?

“Have you calmed down now, Rose?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. “If you’re okay, I’ll let you go back to your quarters. I know you’ve had a long night.”

You only nod, and he lets you go. Every muscle in your body wants to run away from him, but the fear of what he might do stops you from doing so. You slowly make your way to the door.

“And Rose?”

You turn to him. A grin is carved into his face. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

You swallow, nodding. You expect him to force you to say it back, but he only gives you his back, silently resting himself against his chair. You open the door and step out, the rain splattering against your cheek as you make your way across the deck. It scares you how you cannot feel the cold of the rain, the breeze hitting your skin with no shivers down your spine. There’s nothing you can do. If you run, Hongjoong will catch you. If you hide, he will find you. Your mother avoided him for several decades, but she was found, and she perished because of it. The only reason you were spared was because of your relation to her. You are sure Hongjoong would have drained you of blood just like your family. There is only one option left.

You will no longer be on this Earth anymore.

Your steps are slow as you descend down to your room, a creak echoing around the room. Your items are thrown about. The necklace your family gave you were of age, your father’s watch. Belongings from your old master’s house. Subin’s handwritten note tucked in between your pillow and mattress. You reach for it, finger dragging along his handwriting. You wanted to see him again, learn more about his upbringing, his life before this ship. It is unfortunate that you will never get the chance to.

If you could cry you would, but Jongho took that away from you. And even if he hadn’t, you are sure one of the others would have done so.

The knock on your door pulls you away from your sorrow briefly, eyes flicking to the newcomer. Seonghwa stands there, a strained smile on his lips when your eyes meet his.

“Are you alright, Rose? How about we drop that knife, hm?”

You look down at your hands, the silver flashing back at you. You don’t remember grabbing it, don’t remember covering it with the strange mixture Yeosang gave you days prior. You shake your head as you meet his eyes. “No.”

“Rose, we cannot make any hasty decisions-” He steps forward but stops once you press it against your chest, hand trembling. “Rose, please-”

“I cannot do this anymore, Seonghwa,” you bit your lip. “I want to cry and I cannot even shed tears if I wanted to. I can’t feel, Seonghwa. I cannot feel anything. I cannot even feel fear when I hold this against me. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I cannot.”

“Please,” he practically begs, falling to his knees. “I… I cannot lose you, Rose.”

“Do you know what he has done? Do you?”

Seonghwa says nothing. That is enough of an answer for you.

“I have been searching endlessly for the people who killed my family. And here I am, foolishly falling for the man who did it. Falling in love with the crew who knew what he did. And I am angry, I am more than angry. But if anything, I just feel pathetic for ever thinking that I found my new family. People that cared for me. It was all a lie. Just because Hongjoong wanted me so badly because he could not have my mother for himself.”

“If we can just talk about it-”

“I have done enough talking,” You press it harder against you, gasping. It pierces your skin with ease, Seonghwa immediately coming to your side. He tugs on your hands as you press it deeper. The blood you consumed earlier spills from the wound, staining your blouse.

“Rose!” He yells, tugging harshly. You cover his hand with your free one, embracing his panicked gaze. “Stop!”

“I would not have asked anyone else to be here with me when I die, Seonghwa. Please let me go.”

“No, no,” he begs, pulling again. You pull back, the knife immediately plunging into your heart. “No!”

tags: @revehosh @mrcarrots @belletiny @sansblkgirlfriend @hwadump @honeyedtalisman @atzcoke @glitterhongjoong @whatudowhennooneseesyou @marievllr-abg @arkive78 @dysftopia @kpopnightingale @wxnderingthoughts @jenniee-tm @hongshines @atinytease @multidreams-and-desires @yla-aira @wommypeaches @avantalem @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @toxicccred @xciiiomwliah @madelinelina @kirooz @a-tiny-teez @tenebrisirae @ageofjade @n0v4t33z @yoongiigolden @jonghoharibo @fl0r4f4wn @gh0stbish @kodsukein @vitrealislux @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @spiderrenjunfics @aeoliannie​ @tannie13 @leeknowsalot @xshansimsx @seojonneh @shingene @justconniez @mingi-banana @anushka-k @nightmarej1n @watamotee33 @dear-dreamie @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest @jaxavance @malyxsoulpersonal @az-con @charreddonuts @beautysirens @sunukissed @lixpixstix

[vivaislenska]

Seatbelt Situation / hurt!Tech & comforting!Wrecker

Relationship: Tech & Wrecker mostly (Omega, Echo, and Hunter are there to help, too)

Basis: Missing scene from TBB 2x2. While they're fleeing Serenno, Tech's injury gets the better of him. Wrecker shows his love.

Word count: 3,295

Warning: mildly graphic description of injury

This was originally written to show the reactions of the other brothers when they learn of Tech's broken leg. Then, Tech get the love and comfort he deserves that wasn’t shown in the episode. Also, I ended up lightheartedly grumbling about a small dialogue detail on Tech's behalf.

It's also posted on AO3. Feedback, corrections, and more ideas are welcome! Reblogs are appreciated :]

The final, trailing TIE fighter goes up in flames when it gets a punch from Havoc Marauder's aft laser cannon. It sails like a comet in the night sky and careens into the cliffside, lighting up the ridge and treeline in a brief flash of vivid luminosity. Immediately after, Wrecker feels Hunter guide the Marauder downward to the wide, flat clearing to make their pickup. 

Debarking the gunner’s mount, Wrecker waives his habitual tidying of the bedroll and pillows on the deck to transform the small compartment back into Omega's bedroom. They may no longer have an Imperial tail, but there's likely more on the way, and they're not out of danger yet. 

He descends the ladder to the main deck with one sweeping, practiced backward lunge. He’s on his way to the cockpit to help Hunter anyway, so he stops by the open side port to hurry his wayward siblings inside. 

He hasn’t heard much from any of them since they agreed on the necessary radio silence, so it’s an immense relief to see Echo, Tech, and Omega all in one piece and all standing there, poised to board. There’s a fourth person too; an elderly gentleman who might be a Serennian local. He’s sure Tech will fill him in about every single detail, but they really need to get out of here. He motions them in with a smirk but nothing else, so as not to compromise his façade of silent, menacing, muscle-bound sentinel in front of the Serennian stranger. 

Echo is the first to climb the ramp, and as soon as he does, he scampers into the cockpit to join Hunter. Good, because he’s better at copiloting than Wrecker anyway, and Wrecker wants to be by the ramp in case of any unwanted trouble near the open hatch. He maintains his post directly across the hold from the open side port, watching, waiting. 

Ugh, what’s taking them?  

Omega is next to come up the ramp, aided by Tech to hop onto the first rung at the bottom. She's holding something small in her hands when she steps aboard, but only has eyes for Wrecker when she makes her way into the cabin. Now that Echo and Omega are home, a large chunk of Wrecker’s tension has eased, but it won’t do so any further until he sees Tech come jogging up. 

“What’s taking him?” Wrecker grouses verbally this time, his eyes not leaving the clearing below as Omega gives him a quick hug and takes a seat. 

“He’s coming!” Omega reports. “He’s just saying 'bye to Romar.” 

That was probably the last thing Wrecker anticipated Omega would say. Who the hell is this Romar? And Tech is… saying goodbye to him? As if this mission couldn’t have gone any more sideways than it already has. But these are concerns to be addressed once they’re all safely well away from Serenno, and not a moment sooner. Tech knows they’re in a hurry here, so why’s he wasting precious time? 

Wrecker’s about to voice as much when he finally sees his younger brother come bounding up the ramp. It’s about time, too. They’ve blown their cover so hard on this “covert” mission that more squadrons of TIE fighters are definitely in hot pursuit of them. Not wanting to waste another moment, Wrecker's hand hovers over the control for the ramp to close. 

But Tech, likely to make up for those seconds spent saying his goodbyes, engages the mechanism remotely and beats him to it. The side port's hydraulics hiss obediently as Tech ascends the ramp. Any moment now, Tech will come trotting into the hold and zoom past Wrecker in a hurry to get to the cockpit and help with piloting. At least that’s what Wrecker’s expecting. 

What he isn’t expecting is for Tech to come tumbling down the last stretch of the ramp as it nestles into the bulkhead.

But that’s exactly what does happen. In a graceless, stumbling mockery of the agile somersaults that he’s actually capable of, Tech comes sliding down the top of the upended gangway to land in a sprawled heap, on his ass, on the deck of the Marauder. 

Wrecker, having just put a hand on Omega’s safety harness, snaps his head over to witness Tech’s ridiculous entrance and can only stare, mouth agape, at his younger brother in silent bewilderment. 

“Tech? What the-!?” 

Tech, having landed in a seated position with his legs sprawled out in front of him doesn’t reply. He only looks up at Wrecker, blinks his giant, goggled eyes once, twice, and then starts to sway. 

“Tech!” Wrecker yells in alarm, wondering what the kriff happened in those split seconds between when Tech was standing there, conversing with a local, bounding up the ladder with haste, and then now. As much as he wants to rush to Tech’s aid, he finishes securing Omega’s safety harness first. Once it clicks into place and endures one or two of his aggressive, tentative tugs, he’s hurrying to Tech’s side and bellowing his younger brother’s name again. 

“Tech!”  

“It could be from his leg,” Omega says from her seat, her voice rife with fear and concern. “He said he broke his femur! The left one!” 

Whatever the reason, Tech now has collapsed fully on the deck, and Wrecker is careful to sidestep said leg as he makes his way over to him and gathers him in his arms. He removes Tech’s pack and slams it up against the only magnetic storage mechanism he can reach from this angle. His little brother is breathing steadily but out cold. 

“I gotcha, buddy,” says Wrecker nesting Tech’s smaller frame in front of his own, then scooting backward to get them both safely into a crash seat. “Sorry if this hurts, but we’re about to make the jump outta here.” 

Carefully but swiftly, Wrecker drags Tech up from the deck, wincing a little as he doesn’t have the time to make sure that no weight (however much diminished by his very capable maneuvering) is placed on Tech’s reportedly broken leg. But broken leg or not, it won’t be helpful for anyone if neither Wrecker nor Tech is strapped into a crash seat when they depart Serenno’s atmosphere. So Wrecker makes the executive decision to prioritize flight safety. 

Tech makes no objection to the abrupt maneuvers anyway and remains completely out of it. His helmeted head bumps inertly against Wrecker's cuirass as the larger clone pulls them both into the same seat and under the same crash harness. 

“You all strapped in back there?” calls Echo urgently from the cockpit. “We’ve got heat!” 

“We’re good!” Wrecker yells back, not pausing to tell them that no, they aren’t officially strapped in yet and that they might be testing the limits of said safety mechanism if Wrecker can actually get it locked around the both of them. “Go!” 

Wrecker can feel the Marauder humming with urgency as she's primed to flee them to safety, and he knows he only has mere seconds to make this seatbelt situation work. 

“Alright, buddy, suck it in!” he tells his unconscious brother as he reaches up with one hand to pull on the harness while keeping his other arm protectively coiled across Tech’s chest. 

Tech does not, in fact, suck it in, as he’s still mercifully unconscious, but Wrecker does as he hugs his little brother's frame as tightly to him as he can possibly get. Though he’s very lean and a good six inches shorter than Wrecker, Tech is still fully armored and laden with tools and gadgets. Combined with Wrecker’s own massive and armored frame, it's going to be a tight squeeze… 

The crash harness screeches in complaint as Wrecker jerks it into place in front of them and forces the locking mechanism to engage. And just in time too, because the Marauder makes a few evasive twists and turns before lurching onto a predetermined hyperlight trajectory. 

Despite the safety harness having been successfully muscled into doing double duty, Wrecker still holds onto Tech fiercely. He takes care to grapple his legs and arms around Tech’s own, pinning Tech’s limbs safely in place and (hopefully) preventing further aggravation of whatever injuries they’re working with here. Worried about what Tech’s wounds specifically entail, Wrecker hugs him all the tighter, resolved to keep this carbonite-like lock on him until they can safely unbuckle and assess what Tech got himself into this time. 

Finally, the automated alert chimes, informing Marauder’s crew that it’s safe to move about the shuttle. Omega undoes her harness at once, leaping down to her feet and hastening to Wrecker’s (and Tech’s) seat. She finds Tech’s pulse, lifts his helmet off, then crouches down in front of them, likely to try to make some sort of initial medical assessment. 

“Oi! A little help back here!” Wrecker bellows to the lads upfront, knowing that the urgency in his voice will have Echo and Hunter both rushing aft in an instant. 

And they don’t disappoint. Both brothers come hurrying out of the cockpit, eyes alight with concern that only swells when they land on Tech, slumped unconscious in Wrecker’s lap. 

“What happened?” Hunter demands, running to the crash seat and helping Wrecker unlatch and lift the safety harness into the up position. “Careful now. Let’s get him on a rack.” 

As they work to shift their youngest brother onto one of the racks, Echo produces one of their sturdy trauma kits and slides into his role as assistant medic. 

“He broke his left leg,” Echo says sadly, flicking a medical scanner to life and running it along Tech’s form. “And he’s been running around on it now for hours.” 

“He... broke his leg!?” Hunter repeats, devastated. “When?” 

“When we crashlanded that cargo container,” Omega supplies. “A heavy crate fell on top of him.” 

“How heavy?” Hunter asks, eyeing the medical scanner’s red flashes of warning over Echo’s shoulder, undoubtedly dreading the prospect of a dire report. 

“He said—Wrecker, get his tool belt off, will you?—” Echo says, recounting the events as he delegates the tasks that he’s less suited to and gathers supplies from the medical kit. “He said his ‘left femur’ was fractured by ‘150 kilograms of pressure.’ Something to that effect. And the med scanner agrees. It’s closed, but he’s got a pretty nasty oblique fracture. Diaphyseal. And fighting on it didn’t do him any favors.” 

“It’s that bad?” Hunter asks sadly. “You think he needs a specialist?” 

“It is,” Echo says morosely. “And I do. His leg's already swollen to twice its normal size, and the fracture's been harmfully manipulated.” 

“Oh yeah, he does,” Wrecker agrees, empathizing greatly with the misery that accompanies a broken long bone. “Better go find an med center and plug it in now, Sarge. Sheesh, he musta been in a lot of pain.” 

“Adrenaline masked most of it, I reckon,” Echo says, planting a small torch between his own lips, then gently sliding Tech’s goggles up to check his pupillary light reflex. 

As Wrecker watches Echo conduct the test, something dawns on him. 

“No,” Wrecker decides. “No-no, he was really hurting.”

“That’s not what it looked like to us,” Echo says, stowing the light, consulting Tech’s stats further, and searching through their supplies for something they can use as a splint. “He was handling it.” 

“It’s just… 150 kilograms… of pressure? He said that?” Wrecker asks, lending a hand in the rummaging. “Tech said that… just like that?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” says Echo glancing at Omega and receiving a confirmatory nod from their sister. 

“That’s what bugs me,” Wrecker tells them apprehensively. 

“Why?” Hunter asks, still looking stricken at the discovery of his brother’s injury. “That’s a typical Tech report. Even if it’s to do with his own kriffing bones.” 

“But that’s not quite right, is it?” Wrecker tells them, as the sheer amount of pain that Tech must have really been in from the injury finally dawns on him. He reaches over and gently cups the side of Tech’s face, wishing there was any possible way that he could take away some of the pain Tech had endured and was still going to have to endure for a while longer because of this. “Well, kilograms ain’t… a unit of pressure, is it?” 

“What?” Echo asks, his tone supplementing Hunter and Omega’s visible confusion. 

“Kilograms ain’t… well, you know… used as a unit of pressure. It’s a… unit of mass,” Wrecker says carefully, his tongue feeling cumbersome in his mouth as he repeats the information that Tech, himself, had helped him learn. “I’m just saying, he musta been really kriffed if he said that is all, and I hope we got something strong in that kit to give him when he comes ‘round.” 

Hunter and Echo blink in surprise at him for a moment before a shared look passes between them, and they grasp the gravity of Wrecker’s remark. 

“I’ll get in touch with some friendlies,” Hunter says, somehow sounding even more resolved than he’d been moments ago and making for the cockpit, “I’ll find us an orthopedic specialist we can trust. Let me know when he wakes.” 

“You got it,” Echo says, now searching for a stronger hypo to administer to Tech. 

It’s only a few moments later, as Wrecker is easing off the last of his younger brother’s armor and gear that Tech begins to stir. 

“Tech? Tech, hey,” Echo says encouragingly, “you with us?”

Intermittently, Tech becomes aware of voices and all the ambient noises of his beloved ship in flight. Though… the sounds are all muddled and greet him as though they’ve been hurtling through time and space to chase and catch up to him. The voices are talking quietly over him. Which is fairly unusual. 

Ah. Serenno. He must have succumbed to his injuries on Serenno and lost consciousness. Again. 

The previous time it happened, it had been Romar who roused him from his ill-timed syncopation. This time, however… he isn’t quite sure. He summons all of his strength and forces himself to wake up. 

Just as he’s blinking his heavy eyelids open, pain lances through his left leg like a bolt of lightning, and he sucks in a breath through his clenched teeth. Instinctively he tries to curl forward and reach for the limb, which is now ablaze with a pain that he’s seldom (if ever) experienced quite like this before now. 

Gentle hands grasp him firmly, forcing him to lay back down with his arms securely, benignly at his sides. Yes, his left femur, he recalls. Fractured substantially and now with an accompaniment of soft tissue damage and further injury from rigorous use of the limb immediately after the precipitating event. He starts to hyperventilate at the memory of it and the implication of how said injury will impact his effectiveness to his team... to his family... 

“Easy, Tech,” says a gentle, deep baritone voice directly above him. Echo. “We gotcha. You’re okay.” 

Tech cracks his eyes open but is only met with a blur of indistinct colors and shapes. He can’t help but gasp in alarm. His goggles hadn’t been compromised, had they? He really didn’t suspect they had and would be distressed beyond measure if that were the case. 

“They're right here,” says Omega’s voice, a small shape bobbing around the periphery of his bleary view. Small hands gently lift and slide his goggles from his forehead down onto his face so that his corrective lenses are seated properly in front of each eye. He sighs in immense relief when his surroundings come into sharp focus to reveal that he’s supine in the main hold of the Havoc Marauder with Echo, Omega, and Wrecker, all either directly next to him or nearby. 

“Hunter?” is Tech’s first thought, and the question is on his tongue before he can even think through and catalog the probable answers. They all need to be together. It’s a priority. 

“In the cockpit,” Echo assures him. “Finding us a safe place to get you looked after.” 

“Oh,” Tech says. “Am I the only one injured?” 

“You are,” Echo confirms. “But enough so for the lot of us, Tech. I’m just glad you waited until you got to Marauder before passing out.” 

“I did so in the forest as well,” Tech reports pragmatically. “Romar located and assisted me.” 

“Oh, so when you ate it on the ramp coming back, that was round two?” Wrecker chimes in, sounding indecently impressed. 

“I did not ‘eat it’ coming back aboard Marauder,” Tech huffs, though he reasonably can’t recall what exactly happened that lead him to the predicament he’s in currently. 

“Did too,” Wrecker insists, radiating his perplexing approval for when any one of them pushes through an injury severe enough to ultimately render them unconscious. “Omega and I both saw it.” 

“Yeah, sorry, Tech, you kinda did,” Omega admits. “Wrecker and I were scared.” 

“Apologies for that… entrance,” Tech says with a sigh. “That sounds somewhat more dramatic than what I had intended.” 

“S’alright!” Wrecker says, as Omega makes for the cockpit, likely to update Hunter. “You made it, and that’s all that matters!”

“How’s your pain?” Echo asks soberly. “I can cut it. Keep you comfortable for the ride, at least.” 

“It is tolerable,” Tech reports, cringing at the idea of their ever-dwindling medical supplies being expended on him. 

“Nah, I’ll cut it,” Echo decides for him instead. 

“I suspect I do not have any say in the matter?” Tech hedges. 

“You don’t,” Echo confirms in a tone that is patronizing and infuriating and, indeed, meant to be both. Adding to the infuriating aspect. “The med scanner doesn’t lie.” 

“That is because it has been properly calibrated. Are we—agh!” Tech’s next question is interrupted by a sharp stab to his jugular vein, chased by a burning, cold sensation. He flinches involuntarily at the abrupt contact but doesn’t begrudge the relief that follows. The intense pain in his leg ebbs and morphs into innocent numbness very rapidly, and he'll now be able to focus more adequately on all pertinent tasks. But still, “that gesture warrants warning to the patient,” he grumbles at Echo.

“He never does that,” Wrecker gripes, commiserating with Tech likely because of the injury sustained when they first fled Kamino, pursued by... 

Crosshair. Tech's heart aches with a pain that doesn't even touch the pain that was caused by his broken femur. No, it's too much to think about right now. He has to focus on their next move. What they need to make ends meet and keep them safe. 

“I know what the module says to do,” Echo tells them regarding his proclivity to employ surprise hypo attacks, “and I know what Kix says to do.” 

“Oh, so they are mutually exclusive concepts,” Tech complains, “and you practice the latter.” 

“Ehh, the lessons intersect here and there,” Echo says with a smirk, gathering what he’ll need to perform the application of traction, depending on how long their voyage to get medical help will be. 

“Well, that is very comforting to know,” Tech says drily. “And do Kix’s teachings dictate that I be allowed my datapad to distract me during any impending procedures?” 

“They do,” says Echo lightly, grabbing Tech’s coveted datapad from where his gear has been piled and placing it in Tech’s lap. Wrecker grabs something soft and carefully helps Tech prop his head up enough to read.

Tech gladly accepts the help and the offered datapad. He toggles it to life and settles in. He has a lot of work to do, and he can’t let something like an inconvenient femur fracture deter him from providing for his family.

And... just maybe… eventually recovering their lost brother too.

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this little fic. The kg of pressure idea isn’t meant to be wELL aCtuALlY, but I’ve never seen pressure expressed in kg and it doesn’t make sense to me 😅. I think Tech really was jacked up by that wretched crate, and that’s why he said that. They showcased his resilience (among other qualities!) in this episode and it was fantastic

I plan to post my fics to Tumblr, make recs, and share the fics of others from AO3. I'm also experimenting with making some dividers/banners (thank you so much, @freesia-writes)! I got some serious undergrad EE course vibes when recreating Tech's technical doodles lol.

[penname-artist]

Merry Chrysler-

I MEANT TO POST THESE CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS A YEAR AGO

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE THEN

I'M SORRY CHILDREN YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CANDY NOW

I swear I am totally not biased when I say that I'll side with Shu's headcanon of Lightning being very into singing and then getting caught doing so and being good at doing so while putting up Christmas decorations. Okay. Maybe a LITTLE bit biased.

But I am NOT biased when I say that he and Mater BOTH do it and they have a habit of starting a lyric and waiting for the other to give them the next one so they can duet the rest. It's adorable, but it drives the town crazy just as much.

Red always puts something happy and festive on the old Stanley statue. Some years it's a wreath. Some years he has a red glowing nose. Sometimes he gets little antlers. It's a nice nod to his love for the holidays, and it makes Lizzie so happy.

Finn and Leland used to play that silly Hide the Pickle game on Christmas morning, except with very ramped up stakes because they loved a challenge. Since his passing, Finn's now dangerously taught both Mater and Holley to play. Mater tries his best, though he's not great at hiding them and he's lucky at best with finding, and Holley, well...let's just say that she did such a good job her first time trying to hide it that they all gave up looking, and ended up having to buy another one to use.

Every year, Dusty goes out and puts up tacky Christmas lights for the year. And every year, he and Chug get tangled in it. And every year until 2013, Dottie was tasked with helping them out. Since 2013, every year she puts it up to Skipper and Sparky to do instead. Never fails.

You ever heard of something called a "Drive thru nativity scene"? I've been to one, once. You sit in your car and drive through a live reenactment of the towns and the nativity, and you pay fake coin taxes at certain stops, and dad almost got put in fake jail by Roman soldiers because he wouldn't pay those taxes anyways the point is they have one that they do at Radiator Springs now and over the years they have garnered a lot of traffic. Sally and Lightning only did the Mary and Joseph bit one year, and it ended in Joseph being run over by fans and backing up the line, so he lent his role to someone else (it changes every year)

During his reign over the Lodge, Cad Spinner went above and beyond for Christmas light displays during the holidays, which ate up the electric bill for one and left a fire hazard for another. When Jammer took over his position, though, the annual display had become wildly popular, so - with the assistance and better pay of the Piston Peak fire and rescue - they kept the event running. So long as Ryker stayed close by.

The Smokejumpers pulled an Epic Christmas Prank on - or rather with - Cabbie one year. He had no idea what everyone was giggling about, as they boarded up to drop over a fire. And then later, Maru held up a photo he got of him while he was taking off with them. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the bright red "ELF BACKUP" sign written across his hatch.

Blade's not really a Christmas guy, but, there's one thing he enjoys during the Christmas season, and that's peppermints. He's fucking addicted. Maru will catch him swiping them from the little bowl Patch puts out in the mess hall, and they go through a whole bag in less than two weeks. Addicted I tell you.

Specifically in humanized land, Cabbie has whittled - while Windlifter paints - simplified wooden nutcracker statues, reflecting the features of each of the Smokejumpers. There's five on the mantle in the mess hall for them, and another shelf that holds a handful more for the jumpers past.

[goosewriting]

Wherever you go, I go - part 2

summary: reader’s adventures on the Mantis continue.

relationship: Cal Kestis x GN reader

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, pure fluff at the end 

word count: 2.8k 

A/N: this one’s a bit shorter ;;w;; i’m planning on doing a third chapter, where we will finally learn what reader did that got a bounty on their head 

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here) | Part 3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

After admitting your mutual feelings, watching Cal leave the Mantis to go around risking his life was even harder. You knew about the importance of the mission, but still, it tugged at your heart a little stronger every time.

You had managed to convince the redhead to let you tag along on Zeffo, around the abandoned village at least. When he went into the ice caves and beyond, he told you to stay on the ship.

So that’s where you spend most of your time, mainly helping out as the “medic”. That’s your assigned role by Cere, so to speak. But you also help out by assisting her in intercepting and decoding Imperial messages. She taught you how to do it and you caught on quickly. You also help Greez with ship repairs and maintenance here and there. Really you’re an all-rounder, and while the Mantis could get a little too crowded sometimes with four people on board, they seem happy to have you around. Or at least you like to think so.

Right now, you’re headed to Kashyyyk to look for someone named Tarfful. After jumping out of hyperspace, you’re met with a giant Imperial ship lurking over the planet. They seem to be preoccupied with something else though, as the Mantis sneaks right past it. Still you can’t help holding your breath until you’re out of range from it. As you get closer to the jungle-covered surface, you almost crash into an Imperial fighter in pursuit of a guerilla fighter. Greez scolds Cal for not checking the scanners, but he gets up, already heading for the door. He claims to have a plan: hijacking the Imperial walkers wading through the water towards the edge of the jungle, where you assume there’s a battle front. 

Before you can even process what he’s about to do, Cal presses the button to open the main hatch, and the door opens with a hiss.

“Hey, do me a favour,” Cere says to him before he exits. “Stay alive down there?”

“I’ll add it to the plan,” Cal retorts with a grin and walks out onto the ramp.

“If you're gonna jump, you better do it now, kid.,” Greez calls from the cockpit.

“Hold on,” you say, approaching the open door, shielding your body from the strong winds with your arms. “You’re not seriously gonna just jump?!” 

Cal shrugs his shoulders in response, shooting you a smirk and a wink before letting himself fall backwards from the ramp.

“Cal!” you call after him, but Cere pulls you back and closes the door before you get any ideas of following after him. 

“Oh no you don’t,” she scolds you. “You stay on the ship.”

“I swear one of these days he’s gonna give me a heart attack,” you mutter as you go back to the cockpit, trying to spot him from the windows. But the ship is too high up, and there’s a veil of fog covering the water below, so you can’t really make out too much.

When you finally land, you exit the Mantis first and make your way to Cal with an accusing finger pointing at him. He raises his hands in defeat. You low-key want to smack him across the face, but you forgive him easily; it’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s that cute.

The rest of the crew joins you and Cal introduces everyone to Saw Gerrera. He and his fighters want to attack the refinery to free it from the Empire, where Wookiees are being held as slaves and prisoners. They quickly go over the plan and Saw leaves with his troops, telling Cal to join them when he’s ready.

You stay behind with Cere and Greez on the Mantis to intercept transmissions and offer support from here. Standing at the base of the ramp, Cal holds your hands, giving them one last squeeze.

“Be safe,” you plead, and you wish you didn’t sound so worried because you know he can feel it, but you can’t help it.

“I promise,” he responds with a smile, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, and then he takes off towards the refinery. 

After a couple of steps Cal turns back around one last time and you wave to him. You can hear BD’s beeps, probably saying his goodbyes. Even after they’re gone from view, you stand there a little longer, already missing the redhead. You huff and shake your head. I have to be brave for him, you tell yourself. So you go back to the ship to help Cere with the transmissions.

It isn't until about 20 minutes later that you try to contact Cal the first time to ask how it’s going, but there’s no response. In fact, you can’t get through at all. It’s like someone cut off the connection. You keep trying to get through, to no avail.

Immediately you fear the worst, so you tell Cere. 

“You think there’s an Inquisitor here?” you ask, fearful.

“Cal has fought them before, he’s strong,” Cere says, as she turns to Greez. He shifts in his seat.

“I mean, there’s a chance they caught up to him,” the captain starts, averting his eyes from both of you. “Cal did mention bounty hunters on Zeffo. Maybe…” He trails off for a moment. “Oh no.”

“They, who?” you question. 

– – –

You’re pacing back and forth on the Mantis, trying to get the worry and stress out of your system. You almost threw one of the tools lying nearby at the Latero when he confessed that he had a big debt from his gambling days that he hadn’t paid off yet. Because of it, bounty hunters were after Cal, apparently.

Sitting down on the cot, you exhale deeply. You had to remove yourself from the cockpit as Greez set course to Ordo Eris, the stronghold of the Haxion Brood. You didn’t want to say or do something you’d regret later. The only thing you could do now was pray to any deity you could think of that Greez was right and you weren’t just ditching Cal on Kashyyyk. And also hope that if he had actually gotten kidnapped, that he was still in one piece. From the few things Greez told you about their leader, Sorc Tormo, he didn’t sound like a pleasant fellow. Then again, Cal has BD with him. They’re a great team, and Cal has only gotten stronger in such a short period of time. Surely, they’re fine. 

You repeat that last thought in your mind like a mantra, until Cere finally announces you’re about to arrive. You quickly make your way to the cockpit and catch the Mantis jumping out of hyperspace, now flying towards a construction seemingly built into an asteroid. It actually looks kind of cool, and you’d take some more time appreciating the architecture if it wasn’t for Cal being in danger.

Greez flies the ship without hesitation towards a tower.

“Hold on to something!” he warns not long before the ship breaks through one of the big panels and into the building. 

Cere is already at the door, calling out to Cal. When he finally steps through the hatch into the Mantis in one piece, you’re so relieved you could pass out right then and there. But a new wave of worry comes crashing down on you as you the state he’s in; he clearly took a beating, and who knows how long he’s been like this. 

Greez makes quick work of getting the ship out of there. Meanwhile Cal tells everyone the bad news. It doesn’t escape you how he’s leaning onto the back of Cere’s seat for support. You also don’t miss the fact the only thing on his mind is the mission, and not his well-being, apparently. You lightly shake your head as you approach him.

“The Empire knows about the Holocron,” Cal informs everyone, then he turns to Cere with a slight grimace. “And I had a nice chat with the Second Sister, Trilla.”

You’re trying to have Cal lean onto you for support so you can take him to the back to patch him up, but you stop moving at his words. There’s an uncharacteristic venom laced in his voice. 

“What did she tell you?” Cere asks, calculating. 

“She told me you betrayed her to the Empire,” he spits. “Is it true?” 

Cere hesitates for a moment, and you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.

“She was my apprentice before the purge,” she finally states, and it’s obvious she’s deflecting the question. 

“You should have told me!” Cal retorts, and you can feel him shaking. 

“We’re getting an encrypted message from Kashyyyk,” Greez interrupts the two.

Cal and Cere share one last sour look before Cal moves towards the holotable. The message is from Mari Kosan, one of Gerrera’s fighters. They found Tarfful and he wants to meet Cal. But the Empire overran their position at the refinery. Some of the fighters stayed back while Gerrera went off-world. 

Back to Kashyyyk it is, then. Greez sets the course, and the ship’s engines roar as it enters hyperspace. 

You quickly lead Cal away before he can say anything else to Cere. When you tell him that you couldn’t reach his commlink, he tells you that Trilla rerouted all communications. He tried contacting you as well, but couldn't.

When you get to the cot, you sit him down and get the first aid box. You take off his poncho and his vest to take a closer look at his injuries. He’s a bit scratched up but luckily he looked worse than it actually was. 

After giving him a stim, cleaning up his wounds and discarding the used gauze, you take one last look at Cal before nodding and finally allowing yourself to properly breathe again. He visibly feels much better now.

“There, all done,” you say, cupping his cheek. 

“Thanks, cupcake,” Cal responds, and you feel the heat violently erupt on your face.

“Where’d that come from?” you manage to ask, failing to hold back a flustered chuckle.

“To be honest, I have no idea,” he responds with a sheepish smile, a blush spreading on his cheeks as well. “If you don’t like it–”

“No no, I do,” you’re quick to interrupt him. “I could get used to it.” 

After a moment, you turn around to put away the first aid box on the shelves on the opposite side.

“Oh, I remembered a new trick on Kashyyyk, by the way,” Cal says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Really?” you ask, turning around and leaning back on the wall. “I hope it’s better than the wall running.”

Cal extends his arms towards you, and you feel an invisible force pushing you off the wall and bringing you forward until you come to a halt standing between Cal’s legs, his hands gently holding onto your waist to help you keep your balance. He looks up at you with a stupid grin and raises his brows, as if to tell you “not bad, right?”.

“I guess it is better,” you laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “I wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve…”

Suddenly his gaze shifts from mischievous to a little more serious, and his eyes momentarily flicker to your lips and back up. Involuntarily, your breath hitches, and you start leaning in, your hands travelling up his neck to hold his face. The butterflies in your stomach are out of control, and you swallow in an attempt to calm down and not mess this up, and–

Both you and Cal freeze as you hear your name being called from the cockpit. 

You pull away, removing your hands from him rather stiffly. The look of disappointment on his face has your chest tightening in pain for a second.

“I better go,” you say sheepishly. “Make sure to get some rest, okay?”

“Right,” Cal sighs, waiting just for a moment longer in case you don’t go just yet, but you turn around and make your way to the front of the ship, hiding your face with your hands in embarrassment once you have your back to him. He leans down onto the cot with a quiet groan, placing his arm over his forehead. 

The call came from Cere; she needs your help with some intercepted transmissions, so that’s what you work on for some time. Once you’re done, you start tinkering with Cal’s commlink, changing some parts and improving the wiring, so it wouldn’t be as easy to jam or reroute communications in the future.

It takes you a while to make those improvements, and once you’re finally done, you stand up with a yawn, stretching your arms over your head. It’s time for you to hit the bed as well. 

As you get up from the round table, you notice that Greez isn’t in his captain’s seat. You were so focused on your work that you must have missed him walking by. Shrugging it off, you make your way to the back, looking forward to cuddling with Cal, as you’ve had to share a bed ever since you came onboard the Mantis. You hope it wouldn’t be weird after what happened earlier, though.

Just as you’re passing the threshold to the back of the ship, Greez walks past you. Cal is sitting on the cot and not sleeping, as he should be. You push him back down onto the bed, telling him to scoot over so you can fit as well.

“What did Greez want?” you ask as you get comfortable. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. He apologised, actually” Cal answers, lying down behind you and pulling you into his chest. “For the whole Haxion Brood thing.” He pauses for a moment, and you look over your shoulder. “He also said I should cut Cere some slack for the whole… Trilla situation.”

You lie back down, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m actually not sure what I’ll do once I find the Holocron,” Cal admits, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” you offer, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “For now, let’s focus on the mission at hand. A lot can happen until then.” 

Cal doesn’t answer, but he hugs you a little tighter. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to doze off into some much needed sleep.

When you wake up, it’s because of Cere shaking your shoulder not so gently, telling you to get up. You respond with a groan, hiding your face in the pillow. 

“Get up, we’re about to arrive,” Cere says with a warning tone that leaves no place for discussion. So you have no choice but get up. 

Again on Kashyyyk, Cal gets ready to go meet this Tarfful guy. Or rather, Wookiee. After plans are made and equipment is checked, it’s time for him to go. 

“Here, your new and improved commlink,” you announce to Cal, holding out the device. 

Cal thanks you with a smile, taking it from your hands and pocketing it away. BD beeps, telling him it’s time to go. But he stands there looking at you for a second longer. 

“Be careful, okay?” you plead in a quiet voice.

“I promise,” he assures you with his usual smile, but his eyes are searching yours for something else, and that’s all it takes for you to momentarily block out the rest of the world and do what you’ve been wanting to since probably the first day you ever laid eyes on the redhead. 

“Wait, come here,” you say and your hands reach up to hold his poncho. “You have something on your face.” 

You pull him down until his nose brushes against yours.

“Me,” you whisper, and capture his lips with yours. Cal makes an adorable sound of surprise, but is quick to kiss you back. By the way his hand snakes around your torso and comes to a sudden halt at the small of your back, you can tell it’s taking him a lot of effort to hold back right now. For some reason, that makes you feel even bolder, so before pulling back, you give his bottom lip a nibble. 

Cal lets out a “phew” with a cocky smirk, running his hand through his hair, and it’s illegal how handsome he looks right now. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one with tricks up my sleeves, huh?” he says and you laugh, now slightly embarrassed as you realise everyone on the landing platform just saw you. 

“Off you go,” you tell Cal, giving him a playful push on his chest, and he leans in to quickly steal one last kiss, then takes off with a wink.

— — —

A/N 2: i couldn’t find any info on how the bounty hunter kidnapping scene ties into the story (to me it felt kinda random when playing), so it seems a lot of the surrounding parts were scrapped and all that was left was greez’ dialogue about gambling. but i wanted to use the scene, so i hope it made sense lol // screenshot is mine

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings

[mappinglasirena]

The Stairs Under the Bridge

If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that one of the many mysteries/points of discussion that come up repeatedly is: what is happening in the space under La Sirena's bridge? There's a door leading there from the mess hall and we see Picard walk through it in S01E06, "The Impossible Box", but we never find out what that space is being used as.

(At least, we don't know what its in-universe use is. We know from set plans that in the studio, the space apparently held the playback setup.)

We got a glimpse of a cross-section of the ship in the Blu-ray set tour, which has some impossible geometry happening under the bridge...

(That is not a proper floor and something is definitely clipping through it!)

... and if you remember my post from a while back, I speculated that the most likely explanation is that the model has an extendable ladder there, that would allow people to board/leave the ship by a means other than the loading ramp. This would fit with the early idea of the season 1 writers to have Picard board La Sirena in a space port, rather than beam him on board while she's in orbit.

Well, a couple of weeks ago, we got confirmation that this is indeed what the production team originally intended.

Dave Blass, the production designer for PIC Seasons 2 and 3, tweetet some images showcasing a cross-section of the Sirena set/model:

As you can imagine, this gave me enormous joy (and a not too small amount of glee)! I have long insisted that the panorama windows, i.e. the exit the Motley Crew use to get off the ship once she crash-lands on Coppelius, don't really work as a proper access point to the ship. There is a three foot drop right inside the window the crew needs to bridge, no proper hatch, no ladders, etc. The only reason it makes for such a convenient exit is that Sirena is buried in a few metres of dirt, bringing the window level with the ground.

And indeed, La Sirena has, or at least was originally intended to have, a proper access to the front of the ship, one with a ladder and hatch and everything! And it's located in the mysterious space under the bridge!

But, me being me, this schematic also immediately raised a question: Isn't that ladder a bit too short?

If you remember this post, it seems like one of the changes made during Sirena's design process was that the wings were dropped quite a significant amount. Where the early concept art has the ship sitting fairly low to the ground, she is raised much higher when she reaches her final form.

Essentially, we went from a configuration that might have looked something like the version on the top to the actual model on the bottom:

This change increased the ship's clearance significantly.

For the non-imperial-measuring among us, the height of the ladder given in the schematic shared by Blass, 14' 10 1/2", translates to about 4.8m. However, when you line up the orthogonal view of the ship with the cross section, the length of the ladder is not really enough to reach the ground once the ship has landed.

(The green line indicates the bottom of the stairs.)

There is some speculation that maybe Sirena can fold up her nacelles for landing, and that might be true. There are rooms extending into the wings that would end up at an odd angle, but I suppose with artificial gravity, anything is possible -- if somewhat unlikely.

Still, if we presume Sirena's wings are rigid in general, the distance from the tarmac to the belly of the ship (here: the stage floor in the schematic) is a bit larger than 4.8m.

I wanted to adapt the ladder accordingly, but getting good measurements by converting between feet, pixels, and metres is a bit of a hassle. So instead, I simply used the measurements already on the schematic and extended the ladder so that the ship's clearance would be 5.5m or around 18ft.

This brings the total length of the ladder to about 21ft or 6.5m, and overlaid on the orthogonal ship view, it looks like this:

(The green line once again indicates the bottom of the stairs.)

As you can see, this length requires for the outer engines to fold up a little bit and would have the lowest point of the nacelles basically sitting on the ground. I personally think that would make a lot of sense, and in season 2 we did see that the outer engine pods are on hinges and can definitely fold down.

(It's subtle, but they do move back into their resting position towards the end of the gif.)

It was never confirmed that the engings can fold farther up as well, but looking at how they're attached, I think it makes sense that they could.

Now, in the adjusted S1 concept art of Sirena at the space port, the outer engines are in their normal positions and the wings are actually fully off the ground, with the ship resting on extended landing gear:

So, my extended ladder is the absolute minimum length needed to account for the dropped wings. In all likelihood the ladder would have to be even longer than that, because the clearance would be over 5.5m.

One thing that playing around with all of these views and measurements made me realize, though, is that La Sirena is quite a bit larger than I usually picture her. I have this realization about once every two or three months, so to make it easier to internalize, I asked the wonderful @regionalpancake to assist me.

Google helpfully suggests that 5.5m / 18ft is about half the size of a telephone pole or of three Michael Jordan's standing on each other's shoulders. It is also the size of...

... one average adult giraffe. (This is more or less helpful, depending on when you last went to the zoo, but I really enjoyed that as a visual aide.)

And because Regionalpancake is a good sport (and extremely proficient at adding animals to La Sirena), she also gave me this second edit:

(She also helpfully removed the spacedock workers who were a little to tall in comparison to Sirena. Hopefully, the friendly Averagely-Sized Adult Giraffe will make the ship's real dimensions slightly easier to gauge.)

So, now we have an idea of what might lurk beneath La Sirena's bridge!

I imagine in-universe, there is more stuff stashed under there than just the stairs, though. Perhaps the space gives easier access to the phaser banks in the nose of the ship, or to some other flight control or power distribution machinery. And there's still the question of why Picard, after a very emotionally draining conversation, chooses to head into this space rather than going straight upstairs to his cabin or to his study on the holodeck. (Yes, I know the Doylist answer is because it was the more dramatically satisfying blocking/staging choice, but on this blog, we like to dig for Watsonian explanations, too!)

My personal guess is still that there's some communal washroom down there, because those have to be somewhere on the ship, and that space would actually make sense, being in such close proximity to the bridge and mess hall.

But, since we never saw any of it on screen (and won't ever see La Sirena on screen again), I guess the space under the bridge will always remain a canonical mystery -- and thus available for any interpretation your writing /mapping/ headcanon might require ;)

[metroid-prime-ribs]

Why Can't Metroid Crawl (Into My Heart)

Update the soft, of course

Update the soft, of course! What would they think if your suit had issues connecting to the Fed’s interface for data disclosure and other communications? Accepting the prompt you sit back in your beanbag chair and watch as the bar begins to crawl across the screen.

[00%]

[00.1%]

[00.4%]

[00.9%]

[01.2%]

[01.3%]

…Maybe you should’ve done this the night before. Either way, you’re sure that it will be complete by the time you arrive at the Olympus. In the meantime, you decide to get a few chores done around the ship. The dust geemers have been building up a battalion behind the cabinets. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuuuuuuucck! Fuck Fuck Fuck! The progress bar was still only at 89% like it had been for the past 20 minutes and you were docking with the Olympus NOW. You had to do something fast, otherwise you were going to have to show up to a meeting with the best of the S rank bounty hunters wearing only joggers and an anime t-shirt. You rush around your ship, your mind racing to come up with a solution.

Suddenly, you trip on something and fly face first into the console.

Shaking off the headache, you wipe a bit of blood off of your face and the console screen.

[100%] Process complete

Thanks to your mad skills as a techie, you just had to use your head. You tap away at the controls for a moment savoring the satisfying clicks of mechanical systems, not that holo-touch crap that a lot of ‘high end’ ships have. You would take mechanical redundancies over easy to break and/or miscalibrate trendy garbage. You press the last button to release the suit containment latches and they snap open with a satisfying snap-hissssss. The handle to the polycarbonate window is cool to the touch and you swing the door open with haste, quickly getting the suit to cover your form.

Your body relaxes into the comforting pressure of your suit. The wetware accepts the neural handshake as you let it boot up for a few moments. The lines of code flew past your vision as the systems check ran through its standard procedure. Finally you see the all green and step out of the suit storage and make for the cockpit. Your ship’s autopilot has successfully landed in bay five on the pad with a few other gunships that you vaguely recognize from their action figure counterparts that you may or may not have in your apartment. You decide to lock down your ship, only allowing access from the hatch to the cockpit until the ship picks up your biosign on board. You drop down the ladder and head to the chokepoint where Federation officers are waiting for you.

“Welcome aboard the GFS Olympus. The Admiral is waiting for you in the conference room just off the main bridge. Feel free to use the shooting gallery before you head up the ramp, too.”

You nod your thanks to the two troopers on duty and continue past them coming to the ramp that leads deeper into the Olympus, or the side hall that leads to the range.

[moniquill]

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/706010/to-shape-a-dragons-breath-by-moniquill-blackgoose/

“To Shape a Dragon’s Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose is an early contender for the best fantasy novel of 2023. It’s one of those books that you have to thrust into the hands of everyone you know, just so you’ll have people to talk about it with. An Indigenous girl, Anequs, finds an egg, which hatches to produce a dragon that’s bonded to her — but according to the laws of the Anglish, who’ve colonized this alternate version of North America, Anequs must go to a special school to learn to control her baby dragon. If she fails her classes, her dragon, Kasaqua, will be slaughtered. What follows is reminiscent of R.F. Kuang’s “Babel”: Anequs is one of two Indigenous people at an elite school full of colonizers, who expect her to assimilate to their more “civilized” mores — but Anequs resists any suggestion that her own people’s knowledge or culture is inferior. Blackgoose’s worldbuilding is rich and fascinating, from the Norse-inspired Anglish culture, to the complex layers of Anequs’s society on Naquipaug island, to the alchemical properties of dragons’ exhalations. But what makes “Dragon’s Breath” such an absorbing read is Anequs herself: clever, resourceful, generous and uncompromising in the face of colonial condescension. This novel has garden parties and classroom scenes that are more suspenseful than most books’ epic battles.”

—The Washington Post

“[To Shape A Dragon’s Breath] has strong The Traitor Baru Cormorant vibes… it will reshape epic fantasy itself, in addition to the breath of a dragon.”

—LitHub

“To Shape a Dragon’s Breath is a remarkable novel that is bound to be a staple of fantasy shelves for years to come.”

—BuzzFeed

“Tender, thrilling and brimming with fire, this indigenous dragon story is one of the more exciting books I’ve had the pleasure of reading recently.”

—In Between Drafts

“Throughout the book, Blackgoose digs up the older roots of fantasy and plants new life with original ideas… a daring, entirely hot, take on dragonriders and worldbuilding… To Shape a Dragon’s Breath is one blazing epic gulp of a fantastic tale. Queer, anticolonialist, and full of dragons. Moniquill Blackgoose’s writing is easy to love: cutthroat, smooth, and reminds me of a story being told over an open fire.”

—Grimdark Magazine

“This is a classic fantasy at its finest, in which a young, underestimated outcast is introduced to a magical boarding school and all the friendships, drama, prejudice, and romance that immersion entails. The indigenous quest to maintain culture and identity within a paralyzingly restrictive imperialism determined to stamp out natives and their beliefs, and Anequs’ stubborn will to remain herself, create a fresh take on this setup and make this a must-read high-fantasy series. Blackgoose's focus on how storytelling and myth influence our culture and worldviews is also compelling. The relationships are exciting, the queer and polyamorous representation appealing, and it’s easy to fall hard for Anequs, her world, and her love for her dragon.”

—Booklist, STARRED review

“Dragons are never out of style, but To Shape a Dragon’s Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose is set to explore them in a way that feels incredibly fresh and intriguing in this indigenous-inspired fantasy novel.”

—Fansided

“Moniquill Blackgoose combines dragon mythology with sharp commentary on colonization and the struggles of indigenous populations in "To Shape a Dragon's Breath."

—PopSugar

“The fantasy and wonder of To Shape a Dragon’s Breath started immediately. But it didn’t feel like I was thrown into the story; more like I was joining characters and a world that existed without me. To Shape a Dragon’s Breath didn’t feel like there was an on-ramp to the world or culture. It would have been difficult in many books, but Blackgoose crafted a deep culture, society, and world that felt engaging to follow.”

—Lightspeed Magazine

“Blackgoose blends Indigenous history with fantastical beasts, taking themes of inequality and social agency in new directions. An excellent crossover novel for adults and young adults alike.”

—Library Journal

“Between the social commentary (couched in the fantasy world setting), the action, and detailed world-building, there’s a lot to love. It’s an engrossing story/world, and having the Indigenous perspective makes it hit all the harder.”

—Cinelinx

“To Shape a Dragon’s Breath has so many things going for it. It centers on a queer, poly, Indigenous character, dragon-riding and a boarding school setting. With a focus on dismantling colonialism and taking back heritage, what more could you ask for in a young adult fantasy?”

—Geek Girl Authority

“Incredible.”

—BookRiot

“Brilliant.”

—The Nerd Daily

“A fantastic world with wonderful characters, dragons, and places to explore.”

—Girl Who Reads

NATIONAL PRINT

Washington Post—review—5/8

Locus—review—May 2023 issue

Booklist—STARRED review—4/15

Lightspeed Magazine—review—December 2022 issue

Library Journal—what to read in 2023—2/7

Library Journal—review—1/30

Publishers Weekly—forthcoming books by indigenous authors—1/20

Booklist—series starters spotlight—1/1

Library Journal—SFF preview 2023—11/1

ONLINE

Cinelinx—5 new books—5/9

Geek Girl Authority—new books roundup—5/9

BookRiot—new releases today—5/9

Girl Who Reads—8 new Fantasy Novels—5/9

BuzzFeed—most anticipated of spring—3/14

PopSugar—new fantasy to read in May—4/25

Fangirlish—10 LGBTQ books coming out in May—5/7

Grimdark Magazine—review—2/3

The Lesbrary—sapphic May books—5/6

Fansided—new SFF in May—5/6

Fantasy Book Café—most anticipated books of May—5/7

The Nerd daily—new May books—5/4

Ms Magazine—best new May books—5/3

io9—new May books—5/1

Tor.com—new fantasy in May—5/1

In Between Drafts—best of May—5/1

BookRiot—best of May—5/1

LitHub—Dragons, Decolonization, and More: May’s best SFF—5/1

Distractify—best of May—4/26

American Booksellers Association—Q&A—4/26

Yahoo—best of spring—3/14

Ms Magazine—most anticipated books of 2023—1/25

Reads Rainbow—most anticipated—1/25

Tor.com—most anticipated—1/18

PopSugar—most anticipated books of 2023—1/25

Geek Girl Authority—most anticipated—1/2

BookRiot—SFF debuts to watch for—12/29

Lightspeed Mag—review—12/8

LOCAL MEDIA

Arlington Magazine—best new books of May—5/1

Galesburg Public Library Blog—review—5/8

[totesnothere04]

Deviant With a Big Defect: Pt.5

The Bad Batch x Sister!Reader, Obi-Wan x Reader

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fanart, screenshots, or gifs.

Warnings: None IMO.

Part 4

Not Ready

"You have everything right?" Tech asked as you approached the hangar.

"Yes, Tech I have everything. Both my blasters, both of my knives, my tools, my datapad, and extra blacks." You said slightly annoyed.

"I just want to make sure. We don't know how long you'll be gone this time." Tech said. You look behind him at Wrecker who was trying his hardest to hold in his tears. The moment you stepped into the hangar you turned to Wrecker, and opened your arms for a hug.

"Come here, big guy." You say and he picks you up in a hug.

"Why don't we just take you back to the bunk, and say that you went?" Wrecker asks and you shake your head.

"I don't want to be court marshaled for deserting." You tell him and he sniffles and then puts you down. You turn to Hunter and he pulls you into a hug as well.

"Be careful out there, and for the love of the maker... Don't engage another Sith." Hunter says and you chuckle.

"No promises." You say and he deadpans as he looks at you. "I don't regret my actions, because two Generals are alive thanks to me." You turn to Crosshair who casts a quick glance around the hangar to see if anyone's looking. When he's satisfied that no one is looking he gives you a quick hug.

"I'll see you when you get back... Whether you're conscious or not." Crosshair says and you smile lightly at him.

"I'll see you when I get back Crossie." You say then smirk at him and he sends you a small glare. You stare at him for a second then finally work up the courage to look at Tech. The moment your eyes meet you both allow tears to streak down your cheeks. You both grip onto eachother and hold on tight. You bury your head in the nape of his neck, and he does the same to you.

"Please don't come back close to death again. Be safe, be careful." Tech whispers and you nod.

"I'll try Tech. But if it's between my life and my Generals you know the option I'll pick." You whisper and he nods.

"I know, but... You mean a lot to all of us, and I can't stand losing you." Tech said and released you from the hug.

"I know, but we know the risks as soldiers. I promise I'll try my hardest though." You say and turn to the ship. "Make sure you and the boys pass your exams, and I'll be back before you know it."

"I will." Tech said as he retreated to Hunters' side. You boarded the ship and turned to look out of the hatch as it started to close. The boys waved and you waved back. When the hatch closed you made your way deeper into the ship and found your escort.

"C-captain." You heard the familiar stutter and you smiled.

"James? I thought you were a pilot. How did you end up as my escort?" You asked him and he removed his helmet.

"I v-volunteered." He said happily. "P-plus whe-n I h-heard about y-your in-jury I've b-been w-worried."

"I'm okay. I promise." You say and he nods.

"You're a l-legend in th-the 212th n-now." James said and you smiled widely at him.

"You're stuttering less than you used to. I think a new name did wonders for you, James." You said and he nodded. "But I'm just like every other clone. I'm nothing special." You said and he rolled his eyes.

"Th-at's a lie C-captain." He said and you chuckled.

"Why is that?" You asked.

"B-because y-you're a girl and y-you l-lived." James said and you shook your head.

"That doesn't make me special." You told him and the ship jolted forward a bit. You hadn't even felt the ship jump into hyperspace so dropping out of it was sudden. "So where are we?"

"Christophsis." James informs you and you smirk.

"No stutter that time." You said and he chuckled. The ship shook a bit as it landed and you made your way off the ship with James following behind. At the bottom of the ramp, General Kenobi and Commander Cody were waiting.

"Captain, it's good to see you again." Kenobi said and you bowed your head.

"It's good to be back." You said and Cody cleared his throat.

"I know you'd rather be back home helping your Unit pass their final exams." Cody said. "Which is why the General has granted you permission to go back a week before their exams."

"So that you can be present and ship out with them the moment they're able." Kenobi finished and you smiled.

"Thank you, sirs." You said and Kenobi waved it off.

"No need for thanks. It's basically me repaying you for saving my life." Kenobi said then he shifted his attention to James.

"You're free to go James." Kenobi says and James salutes him.

"Yes, sir." James says then leaves.

"We have much to catch you up on (Y/n). The Separatists seem set on taking Christophsis and we need to stop it." Kenobi said and you started thinking.

"Well it is a major mining hub and a good portion of the republic materials come from here. It would make sense why it would be such a big target to the Seppies." You say and they nod.

"Yes. Which is why it is so important to protect it from the Separatists." Kenobi said. The three of you reached the command center and went up to the holotable. You put your left palm flat infront of the droid plug-in and it opens. Your sconce emerges and you plug into the table and start searching through their notes.

"You already have a plan?" You ask as you find the plans and Cody nods.

"Yes. We're just waiting on General Skywalker to be available to make it out here. In order to ensure the Separatists are defeated and stay away we need to show military and tactical prowess. Generals Kenobi and Skywalker along with both the 212th and the 501st should do just that." Cody said and you nod.

"Yes, Captain Rex does seem to keep Anakin in line... Somewhat." Kenobi said and you cleared your throat to keep from laughing.

"Seems there's context to that, but I won't pry." You say quietly and Kenobi chuckles.

"You have no idea." He says.

"So when can we expect General Skywalker and the 501st?" You asked.

"Well at the moment they're locked in combat. It isn't clear when they'll be available next." Cody says. "For now we pick and choose our battles, and wait with bated breath."

3 Days Later

You stood in the middle of the sparring ring with your wooden weapon. Cody and two others were circling you waiting for the right opportunity to strike. They all have wooden sparring poles as well and you wait. You had yet to be beaten in a sparring match by any of the guys in the 212th. So naturally, this match pulled the attention of every off-duty trooper and General Kenobi. You twirled the pole around you and stopped in your fighting stance.

Cody took this as the green light to engage and struck first followed by the other two. You deflected all of their blows and dodged to the side as Cody swung at you again. As you spun around one of the clones you lightly smacked his back with your pole. He threw his hands up to signal he was out. The next clone was almost as easy since you tripped him and then tapped his side just as quickly. You turned your entire focus back on Cody. The two of you circled the ring and studied eachother. He spun and feigned left then went right but you had deduced he would do this. You blocked his hit then retaliated with one of your own. The exchange between the two of you continued until you got the upper hand and tripped him then tapped his chest. He groaned and then got up with a helping hand from you.

"I was sure I'd be able to show you what the 212th is really made of." Cody said and you chuckled.

"You are all talented in one way or another, but I had a lot of one on one training." You say and he sighs.

"I just think someone needs to be able to beat you. At least one of my boys." Cody says.

"Well, I'll give it a go." Kenobi says and everyone sits watching. Kenobi picks up the wooden staff and weighs it between his hands. He twirls it and stops in his fighting stance and you reciprocate the action. You attack first and he blocks your attack and smacks your staff away. You both circle eachother like hunters stalking their prey. He tries to trip you but you bat away his staff and try to spin a tap to his neck. He ducks beneath the staff and tries to land a hit to your back during the follow-through of your swing. You anticipate this and block it then turn to look at him. This process continues for what feels like an eternity when your back finally hits the floor. You feel the tip of his staff tap your chest and you exhale.

"It would seem that I was taught a lesson by the General of the 212th." You say and get back up with Kenobi's assistance. All the men in the 212th congratulate Kenobi and make their leave.

"I would love to spar with you again. That was rather fun." Kenobi says and you chuckle.

"I enjoy sparring. It's one of the things my brothers and I do quite often. We get competitive and keep count though." You say and he leans against a wall.

"What are your scores against all of them?" He asks and you put away the wooden staffs.

"For Wrecker, it's 75 to 1 in my favor. I was distracted during the one he got. For Crosshair, it's 45 to 31 in my favor. For Hunter, it's 40 to 36 in my favor. For Tech, it's 38 to 38 tied between us." You say and Kenobi let's off a small smile.

"You and your brothers seem very talented when it comes to fighting." He says.

"Thank you General. We've trained a lot." You say and he chuckles.

"When it's just the two of us you can call me Obi-Wan." He says and you nod.

"If you don't mind me asking... What was it like growing up in the Jedi Temple, General?" You ask and he rolls his eyes at you.

"Obi-Wan for one. Two, it was peaceful and rewarding. When I was assigned to my Master he taught me that balance was necessary for the Force. He was an amazing man." Obi-Wan said and you set your flesh hand on his shoulder. You could almost feel his sadness as he spoke of his Master.

"I'm sorry you lost him." You said and he exhaled.

"The Force will take even the best of us when it's ready to. It doesn't care about their affiliation or what position they hold." He says as he wipes his hands off on a rag.

"Then why were you so upset over the possibility of me dying to Dooku?" You asked and he seemed taken aback and slightly confused.

"I'm not sure." He said then threw the rag in a bin. "It was almost like losing my Master all over again, except different... If that makes sense."

"In a way it does, but it would make more sense if it had been General Skywalker. We had only met a couple of days prior. Sir, I'm a clone. We're made to be easily replaced." You tell him and he shakes his head.

"No. You're all different in the Force, and it tells me there's something special about you. That you're important in some way." Obi-Wan says as he finally looks you in the eyes. Your breath nearly gets stolen as you gaze into his bright blue hues. Blue eyes were a rare defect you had only seen on some of the other clones. Neither of you realized you were slowly moving closer to eachother until Obi-Wans com started to beep. He cleared his throat and shook out of whatever trance the two of you were in.

"Obi-Wan." He said.

"Obi-Wan we wanted to let you know that Kyra and Jut will be arriving on Christophsis shortly." The male voice said.

"I didn't know tattoo artists did field work, Master Windu." Obi-Wan said with a hint of amusement.

"They do when we've commissioned them for the clone army." General 'Windu' says.

"I'm sure some of the men will be happy to hear this." Obi-Wan says then the line goes silent.

"The Jedi Order commissioned tattoo artists for the clone army?" You asked him.

"Apparently. These specific tattoo artists are the ones that do any piece a Jedi might want. Come on I'll introduce you to them." Obi-Wan says and you fall into step next to him. "Certain Jedi like to mark themselves with their tribal tattoos, even though they're no longer affiliated with their tribe or clan. Other Jedi get markings showing their rank or devotion to the order." Obi-Wan tells you and you smile happily.

"This is fascinating. I would've suspected that the Jedi wouldn't be allowed tattoos." You said.

"We aren't clergy." Obi-Wan says with a chuckle.

"Do you have a tattoo?" You ask him and he seems to freeze. When he realizes you noticed he smirks at you.

"I do, and maybe one day you'll get to see it, my dear." He says with a wink and you nearly choke on air.

"D-did you just flirt with me?" You ask him astonished.

"Yes." He says and you stare at his back dumbfounded. You catch up to him as he reaches a transport that just landed. The hatch opens and two girls walk down the ramp carrying bags. "Kyra, Jut!" Obi-Wan says happily and they smile at him.

"Kenobi." The Nautolan woman greets Obi-Wan. "Where are we setting up shop?" She asks.

"The only sterile environment here is the medical bay." He says and the two girls nod.

"That'll do." The purple Twi'lek says. You and Obi-Wan lead the girls to the medical bay and you watch them pull out their tools. "What's your name hun?"

"Oh. I'm (Y/n), temporary Captain of the 212th." You say and she nods.

"I'm Jut. You lookin' to get a tattoo?" She asks and you nod. "Then you're my first customer. Tell me what you want."

"But I was just sparring. I'm all sweaty." You say and she nods again.

"Then I'll design it while you get cleaned up." She sits down pulling out a datapad and a stylus.

"Well, I want it to go down my spine. At the top, I want '99', a skull under that, goggles below that, a grenade under that, and a crosshair under that. I also want the omega symbol on the back of my neck." You say then look up at her. She and Kyra were smirking at eachother.

"You're our first client here. We'll both be working on you." Kyra says then she and Jut set to designing your tattoo.

"I'll be back." You say and rush off to freshen up. Obi-Wan went on to do his own thing after you left. When you got back they were finishing up with their equipment. They took notice of you at the door and patted the medical bed.

"Lay down face down so we can get started. Remove any clothing blocking the area." Jut says and you do as requested. "What do you think about this?" She asks then shows you their sketch.

"I like it." You say and smile at it. The outside edges look like an odd tree, while the symbols you asked for were lined directly up the middle.

"This might hurt, but from your scar you might be accustomed to pain." Jut says and you lay down. Both women set to work on each side of you, and the slight sting of the needle wasn't as painful as you thought it would be. The three of you struck up idle chat and the atmosphere was almost carefree. It was odd for a military med bay to feel this way. Sooner than you expected they were done.

"You'll want to apply this cream when you can. It will keep it hydrated while allowing it to breath so it can heal." Kyra instructs and you nod.

"Thank you! Have they asked you to go to Kamino yet?" You asked and they nodded.

"That's our next stop." Jut says and you nod again.

"Alright. Well, I will leave you two to get to your next clients." You say as you put your top back on and then your armor. You make your way to the command center and find Cody talking to Obi-Wan. "General, Commander." You greet them and they both smile at you.

"Heard you got a tattoo (Y/n). Hope I get to see it sometime." Cody says and you shake your head.

"It's on my back. Only way you get to see it is if I end up in the infirmary again." You tell him and he chuckles.

"The boys back home are going to be jealous." Cody says.

"Not for long. Kyra and Jut are going to Kamino next." You tell him.

2,959 Words

[all-the-things-2020]

Quarantine

Finn and Poe are on a mission for General Leia and end up having to be quarantined together for two weeks. This story takes place sometime between the battle on Crait and the events of TRoS. I originally wrote this in 2020 during … well, you can probably figure it out, lol.

Poe Dameron hated this stupid ship. Give me an X-wing any day, he thought as he fought the stiff yoke on the bucket of bolts he and his friend Finn were traveling in. It was a nondescript little freighter, barely big enough for two crewmen and a small amount of cargo, but it had absolutely no connection with the Resistance and it was big enough for what they needed on this mission. So, he was stuck with it.

“You’re coming in awfully fast, Poe,” Finn said.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Poe said through gritted teeth. The engines groaned as he throttled them down and pulled up on the yoke, trying to drop the ship as gracefully as possible onto the landing pad they had been directed to. Finally, he managed to bring her down with only a minor thump.

Finn opened his mouth, but Poe shushed him with a raised finger. “Say one word, buddy, and I’ll blast you. I hate this fucking ship!” He kicked the dashboard as he crawled out of the pilot’s seat, which caused three different alarms to go off. He slammed his fist down on top of the dash, and they went off.

“Whoever bought this piece of junk needs to be fired,” he muttered as he left the cramped cockpit.

“I think it was Leia,” said Finn. Of course, Poe thought. She’d probably gotten a good laugh out of the look on his face when he saw the Firefly and found out he was going to be flying it.

They walked to the hatch and Poe keyed in the sequence to drop the ramp. The flight had been short enough, just over two hours, mostly in hyperspace, but he was more than ready to get off the ship and stretch his legs. Unfortunately, the ramp did not deploy.

“What the …,” he tapped in the sequence again but the ramp refused to open. “I swear …” He was interrupted by the buzz of the comm unit.

“Ground control to Firefly,” said the slightly metallic voice of the flight controller who had directed them to the landing pad. “Please cease attempting to open your hatch.”

Poe thumbed the button on the comm panel. “What? How else are we supposed to get out?”

“You are offworlders,” the flight controller said slowly. “You are under a mandatory 14 day quarantine before you will be allowed off your ship. Was this not explained to you before you filed your flight plans?”

“No, it very much was not,” Poe replied. He looked at Finn, who shook his head, clearly as baffled as Poe was. “Look, we have business here and we can’t wait 14 days to take care of it.”

“You can leave, or you can wait out the quarantine,” the flight controller said. “Those are your options. After the Soronian virus pandemic, we are extremely careful about outside visitors to our planet.”

Poe leaned against the wall. “So, what do we do?”

Finn sighed. “I don’t know. How important is this cargo?”

“Important enough that Leia sent us to get it,” Poe replied. “But is it important enough to wait two weeks for?” He ran his hand through his hair. “Nothing for it but to comm her and ask her what to do.”

They went back to the cockpit to send an encoded message to the General.

***************************

“So, fourteen days, huh?” Finn said. Poe looked ready to punch someone, and since it was only the two of them on board, Finn kept his distance.

“Yeah,” Poe sighed. “I hope this whatever-it-is is worth it.” Leia had commiserated with them over their misfortune but insisted that the cargo was too important to pass up, although she had declined to tell them what it was.

“Me, too,” Finn said. He hesitated a moment before going on. “Is it really going to be that bad having to spend two weeks with me?”

Poe looked up, startled. “Oh, no, no buddy. It’s not you,” he said quickly. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck in quarantine with. It’s this damn ship.” He looked around with a sigh. “I think it hates me as much as I hate it.”

“It is kind of small,” Finn admitted. “I suppose we should check out the amenities, if there are any.” They had planned to simply fly in, collect their cargo, and fly back out. He had no idea what kind of bunk space the ship had, or how big the ‘fresher was.

He stood up and stretched, almost knocking his hands against the walls of the cockpit, before walking back down the corridor. Just past the hatch was the door to the cargo bay; on the wall opposite the hatch were two smaller doors. One opened onto a tiny ‘fresher with a sink barely big enough to wash a child’s hands. The other opened onto a bedroom with a single bunk and not much else.

He felt Poe come up behind him and look around his shoulder. “Well, that’s not good news,” the pilot said. “No shower, not even a sonic? And only one bed?”

“Yeah,” said Finn. “Maybe we should sleep in shifts? I don’t think there’s even enough room in there for one of us to sleep on the floor.”

“Let’s check out the cargo bay,” Poe said. “Maybe one of us can camp out in there.”

They opened the cargo bay door. “Or not,” said Poe. The bay had no floor, just a crisscross of struts on which shelving or flooring could be placed to configure the storage area however it was needed. Unfortunately, there was no shelving or flooring on board.

Finn swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. “We could share,” he suggested tentatively. “The room’s not that big but the bed looks wide enough for two …” He didn’t know why the idea of sharing a bed with Poe should make him feel so nervous; soldiers and pilots were used to bunking down in all manner of places, with any number of others crammed into the tiniest spaces.

Poe smiled at him, and Finn felt an odd sensation in his stomach. “Yeah, that might work.”

************************

Where did that come from? Poe thought. When Finn suggested they could share the bunk, Poe felt a grin spread across his face and a flush rise in his cheeks. It was a familiar reaction to being invited into someone’s bed, but he’d never expected to feel this way about Finn. They were friends, for kriff’s sake! And anyway, he was pretty sure Finn was in love with Rey. He certainly talked about her enough …

Get a grip, Dameron, he told himself. There were more important things to worry about, like the state of the food supply on board.

“Have you checked on the rations yet?,” he asked. “Fourteen days is a long time without food.”

Finn looked worried, which Poe found endearing. Ever since escaping the First Order, Finn’s favorite part of being with the Resistance was the availability of food whenever he wanted it. Stormtroopers were given nutritional rations at specific times, carefully calculated to provide exactly the right amount of calories and nutrients for each soldier’s height and weight. The existence of snacks, and the ability to choose his own food at meal times had been a revelation.

They started opening cabinets and found a stash of ration bars, about a dozen portions of insta-bread, and three bottles of beer. “Well, it could be worse,” Poe said as they stared at the meager supply.

“How?,” asked Finn.

“There could have been no beer,” Poe replied. Finn hmphed, clearly not amused by his little joke. “Aw, come on, buddy, I was kidding. Maybe the powers that be will send us a care package. Can’t hurt to ask.”

He went over to the closest comm panel and hailed the flight controller.

“Yes, Firefly?��

“Um, yeah, we’re a little underprepared for a fourteen day quarantine. Any chance of getting some food delivered?”

The line was quiet long enough that Poe thought maybe the flight controller was just going to let them die, but then he heard a burst of static. “That can be arranged,” the flight controller said carefully. “We will have to consult with our epidemiologists to determine the best way to transfer rations to you without risk of exposure. Give us a few hours and we’ll get back to you.”

Poe shrugged. “At least they’re looking into it,” he said. Finn still looked dubious, but Poe was already calculating how to divvy up the rations they did have. It wouldn’t be pretty, but they could just about manage two weeks on severely reduced rations if they were careful. He’d been in worse situations before, having once crash landed his X-wing on an uninhabited planet and spent eight days with nothing but the water that dripped from the foliage into his water bottle.

He patted Finn on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. Even if they refuse, we won’t starve to death.”

“Oh, I know,” Finn said, “but … I’m not looking forward to it.” He sat down, resting his arms on his knees and letting his hands dangle in front of him. He looked up at Poe, smiling ruefully. “Guess I’ve gotten spoiled, huh?”

Poe sat down beside him. “I won’t be thrilled about it, either,” he admitted, “but I know we can do it if we have to. We’re heroes, you know.” He bumped his shoulder against Finn’s, feeling that flush of heat in his face again. He turned his head away so Finn wouldn’t see, but he heard the other man’s chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he said. “I am kind of a Big Deal in the Resistance.” He bumped Poe back and then slung his arm around his shoulders. Poe tried not to lean into the hug too much, but it was hard not to. Finn gave very good hugs … and he smelled way too good for someone who’d been in a cockpit for two hours.

************************

In the end, the authorities agreed that they could open their hatch for exactly 60 seconds to allow a small droid to deliver a crate of food, on the condition that they keep the droid on board until their quarantine was completed … and pay an exorbitant amount for both the supplies and the rental of the droid.

At least the food was good stuff; the crate even included a selection of desserts and a couple of bottles of something that Poe insisted was strong enough to be used as rocket fuel in an emergency … but tasted much better.

The droid tucked itself into a corner and powered down, beeping a quick message before its lights dimmed. “What’d it say?” Finn asked. He was still at a loss with Binary, but he knew Poe was fluent, having spent so much time with BB-8 over the years.

“It said, ‘See you in two weeks,’” he said. “At least we don’t have to keep it entertained.”

They busied themselves unpacking the crate and sorting out the food, but once that was done, there was nothing left to do but stare at the walls.

“So,” Poe said. “What do you want to do?” He held up his hand and ticked their choices off on his fingers. “We could get drunk, take something apart and put it back together, reprogram the droid to say rude things, play Truth or Dare … or get drunk.”

“Truth or Dare?” Finn asked. “What’s that?”

Poe blinked. “Oh, right, you never … well, it’s a stupid game teenagers play at parties. Someone asks a question and you either have to answer it truthfully … or take a dare.” He laughed uncomfortably. “Mostly it's used to try to get people to admit their crushes, stuff like that.”

Finn pondered this for awhile. “So, if you liked someone, you could ask them if they liked you back.”

“Well, yeah, you could, but usually you’d have one of your friends ask them, so if they didn’t like you, you could act like you didn’t really care,” Poe explained. “Like I said, it’s a dumb kid’s game.”

Finn nodded. “What kind of dares?” He’d never experienced the rituals of adolescence that Poe had been lucky enough to participate in, and he’d found that Poe didn’t mind explaining things to him.

Poe leaned back, his ankles crossed. “Stuff like, Run across the backyard naked, or Eat a bug, or Climb up on the roof and crow like a rooster. Just dumb stuff.” He shook his head. “Occasionally someone would come up with something really crazy, like Steal a landspeeder, but only if we were really, really drunk.”

“But … that’s illegal,” Finn said. “Did you and your friends really do stuff like that? What if you got caught?”

Poe laughed. “No, we didn’t … well, a couple of us did, but … we were just dumb kids. Everybody knew we were just blowing off steam.”

Finn was puzzled. “So you didn’t get in trouble?”

“Oh, we got in trouble,” Poe said. “But not seriously. I mean, no one got arrested or anything … I did get grounded a lot.” He smiled.

“Grounded? They wouldn’t let you fly?” That was probably the worst punishment in the galaxy for someone like Poe. Finn couldn’t imagine the man not being able to fly.

“No, buddy, not literally grounded. It means you can’t leave the house except to go to school. Can’t see your friends, no comms from them … lots of parents used grounding as a punishment. Sort of like solitary confinement.”

“We had solitary in the First Order,” Finn said grimly. He still dreamed about it sometimes, that dark little box the trainees got shoved into when they did something unacceptable. The longest he’d ever had to endure was 24 hours, but a couple of his training mates had suffered multiple day internments and they’d never been quite the same afterward.

Poe leaned forward, his face suddenly serious. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I was just trying to lighten the mood, not bring up something …”

Finn waved his hand. “Nah, you’re good.” He forced a smile onto his face, which wasn’t all that hard once he looked at Poe. “So, what other stupid things did you and your friends get up to?

Poe sat back and regaled him with stories of his youth that Finn suspected were at least slightly exaggerated. If Poe had really done half of what he claimed he and his friends had, it was a miracle he’d survived to adulthood.

Eventually they ate some dinner and took turns washing up in the cramped ‘fresher. The chronometer indicated bedtime, if they were following the time schedule they’d been on back at base, so they decided to turn in.

The bed was larger than a single but not quite big enough to be a double. Finn knew they’d both fit but it would be a tight fit and involve some snuggling. They stood awkwardly in front of the bunk, neither ready to make the first move.

“Big spoon or little spoon,” Poe asked after a long moment.

“What? I don’t see any spoons?”

Poe chuckled and cupped one hand against the other. “Do you want to be the big spoon,” he held up the outside hand, “or the little spoon?” He nestled the inside hand against the other. “Like spoons in a drawer.”

“Oh. Umm, I’m taller so maybe I should be the big spoon?” Finn ventured.

Poe seemed happy to accept that idea and gestured for Finn to get into bed first. He slid back against the wall, leaving as much room for Poe as possible. Once Poe was settled down, there was barely four inches of space between them. Finn didn’t know where to put his hands, and kept them awkwardly pinned to his sides.

“I won’t burst into flames if you touch me,” Poe said. “Relax, Finn.” He shifted back toward Finn just a bit and Finn tentatively draped his arm over Poe’s torso, careful not to touch his hip, even though it was very tempting. “Good night, buddy,” Poe muttered into his pillow.

“Good night,” Finn replied. Only thirteen more nights to go.

****************************

Poe thanked the stars that Finn had suggested he be the big spoon, because Poe was afraid if he was the one snuggled up against Finn’s muscular back, it wouldn’t be long before Finn was aware of just how much Poe admired those muscles and every other part of the former Stormtrooper’s physique. This wasn’t the first time Poe had been sent on a mission with someone he was physically attracted to, but it was the first time where the other person was a close friend, and he didn’t want to screw anything up.

Finn was a fierce fighter, loyal and brave, and quick to learn but in many ways he was incredibly naive. Poe wasn’t sure how much experience the younger man had with simple friendship, let alone romance, and he didn’t want to confuse him or make him feel like he should do something he wasn’t ready for.

To be honest, Poe wasn’t even sure what he was ready for at this point. He knew Finn was important to him; that was abundantly clear when he realized the other man was still alive after the crash on Jakku. But the way Finn talked about his friend Rey, Poe got the impression there was something going on there. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken a fancy to someone who wasn’t interested in someone with his, ahem, equipment. He’d learned that lesson the hard way back at the Naval Academy. So for now, he’d just admire from afar and keep his eyes open for any clues that Finn might possibly feel the same way in return. As if I would ever be that lucky, he thought as he drifted off to sleep with Finn’s arm laying lightly across his side.

************************

Finn woke up with his face buried in Poe’s hair and one leg slung over Poe’s hip. The arm he’d carefully draped over Poe’s side was pressed tightly to Poe’s chest, and he could feel the other man’s breath warm against his fingers. It felt weird, but also very right, which made no sense to Finn. He debated whether it was better to extricate himself slowly, trying not to wake Poe up, or whether he should just jump up and hope Poe didn’t realize how intimately they’d been entangled.

In the end, he left it too long and Poe stirred. “Good morning, buddy,” he mumbled, lifting Finn’s arm away from his chest and squirming out from under his leg as if this was a common occurrence. “Dibs on the ‘fresher.” He stood up, stretched, and left the room, leaving Finn lying bewildered. Of course Poe’s woken up in bed with someone before, Finn realized. This isn’t as weird for him as it is for me. Every day brought some new experience that only reiterated to Finn just how unusual his own life had been. So many things people took for granted were new discoveries to him.

By the time Poe returned from the ‘fresher, Finn was sitting up and feeling just about normal. He took his turn in the ‘fresher as Poe got dressed (since they didn’t have a change of clothes, they had hung their shirts and pants over the backs of the cockpit seats to air them out a little bit and slept in their underwear), and by the time he’d gotten dressed himself, Poe had prepared a pot of kaf and laid out some rolls and a pot of jam.

“Thanks,” Finn said, as Poe poured him a cup, adding just enough sugar to counteract the bitterness that Finn was still getting used to. Poe drank his own kaf with no sweetener, but Finn couldn’t do it yet.

They ate breakfast, cleaned up, and then Poe decided to tinker with the ship's controls. He disappeared into the cockpit, his head underneath the dashboard and his feet sticking out past the pilot’s seat. Finn heard a litany of clanks and clunks and screeches punctuated by the occasional swear word.

“Need any help there, buddy?,” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good,” Poe said, his voice muffled from inside the paneling. “Not enough room for more than one person under here, anyway.”

So Finn pulled out a data pad and skimmed the HoloNet for something interesting to watch. Rose had introduced him to the pleasures of cheesy holovids and while most of them were execrable, some were so horribly bad that they were actually hilarious. He found one and spent the rest of the day trying to explain the ridiculous plot to Poe.

They stopped for a late lunch, and then Poe disappeared back under the dash again. Finn got tired of the holovid and downloaded a book to read. It was a historical novel about the Old Republic and kind of dry, but better than the technical manuals he’d been reading recently to get himself up to speed with all of the Resistance technology.

When Poe finally crawled out from under the dashboard, he was smeared with grease and had some dust balls caught in his hair, but he looked happy. “You’re filthy,” Finn said.

“So I’ve been told,” Poe said with a salacious grin.

Finn shook his head. “Just go wash up while I fix us some dinner,” he said. He pulled out a freeze-dried casserole and tossed it in the reconstituter, added a loaf of actual bread to their makeshift table and cracked open two of the beers. When Poe reappeared, his hair damp and falling in ringlets around his face, the casserole was ready and Finn handed him a plate with a generous portion.

They ate in companionable silence, then leaned back in their chairs.

“So,” Finn said, emboldened by the beer. “What other dumb games did you and your friends play?”

Poe laughed. “Ah, the education of Finn in the ways of adolescent stupidity continues,” he said. He swallowed the last of his beer and laid the bottle on the table, giving it a flick so that it spun around. “Spin the Bottle was the dumbest one. I hated that game.”

“What’s Spin the Bottle?”

“You sit in a circle, put a bottle in the middle and someone spins it. Whoever it ends up pointing at, they have to kiss them.” Poe shrugged. “I always found some excuse to leave when it came up. The girls were the ones who liked it.”

“So you just kissed a random person because of a bottle?” Finn said. “That is stupid. What else?”

Poe rubbed his chin. “Let me think … oh, there was Never Have I Ever, that one could be fun.”

Finn finished off his own beer and laid the bottle on the table next to Poe’s. He gave it a lazy flick and it spun slowly until it ended up pointing at Poe. Finn felt a blush rise in his cheeks and was glad his dark complexion hid it. “How … how do you play that one?”

Poe sat forward. “Okay, so you say something you’ve never done before and then anyone who has done that raises their hand, and they get a point. Then the next person says something, and so on, and so on. Whoever has the most points at the end is the winner. And you can’t lie.”

“For example?” Finn asked.

“Um, never have I ever … ridden a tauntaun,” Poe said.

“Neither have I,” Finn admitted.

“Okay, so no points on that one. Your turn.”

“Um, okay … never have I ever stolen a landspeeder.” Poe sheepishly raised his hand. Finn laughed, “I knew it!”

“All right, all right,” Poe said. “But that means I’m winning.” He reached into the closest cupboard and pulled out a bottle of the alien liquor and two small cups. He poured them each a shot. “And how we invoke rule number 78: any time one of us raises his hand, we have to take a shot.” He slid one cup toward Finn and raised the other to his lips, tossing it back. Finn picked up his own cup and sniffed dubiously. Poe raised his eyebrows in challenge and Finn gulped the shot, nearly choking himself in the process.

“What the kriff…,” he spluttered. “That stuff is nasty!”

“Yeah, but it makes you feel so good,” Poe said, pouring out two more shots. “My turn. Never have I ever worn a Stormtrooper helmet.”

Finn laughed. “Got me,” he said, raising his hand. “I think I get the point of this game. You try to think of something you haven’t done that the other person has.” He stopped, the liquor already starting to muddle his brain. “No, wait, but if the person has done it, they get a point, so you should actually try to say something you think they haven’t done, right?”

Poe drank his shot and shook his head. “No, you’re missing the point entirely,” he said. “The point is … to get stinking drunk.”

Finn lifted his own cup and downed the shot as quickly as he could. “So the points don’t matter,” he said.

“Exactly,” Poe said, refilling their cups. “Your turn.”

“Um … never have I ever flown an X-wing.”

They went on in this manner for several turns, until Finn was pleasantly warm and his eyes were having a hard time staying focused. “Your … your turn,” he told Poe.

Poe was sprawled in his chair, one leg slung casually over the arm. He raised his cup and waved it unsteadily in the air. “Never have I ever … kissed a girl,” he said.

Finn froze. “Wait, what?”

“Never have I ever kissed a girl,” Poe repeated. “Go on, raise your hand so I can take a drink.”

Finn was confused. “Okay, yeah, but … are you seriously telling me that you, Poe Dameron, the poster boy of the Resistance, has never kissed a girl?”

“Yep,” Poe said. “And I know you have, because I saw Rose kiss you on Crait, so one point to you, my friend.” He tossed back his drink.

“Well,” Finn said slowly, “technically I haven’t kissed a girl, because yeah, Rose kissed me, but she was the one who started it, I mean she kissed me, not the other way around …” He was babbling but he couldn’t shut up.

Poe sat up. “What about Rey?”

“What about Rey?” Finn was even more confused now. “I’ve never kissed Rey. And she’s never kissed me. And why haven’t you ever kissed a girl, I mean, come on … oh!” His brain finally clicked into gear. “Really?”

Poe nodded. “Really,” he said, setting down his cup. Finn got the feeling the game was over.

Finn nodded himself. “Okay, this makes sense. I mean, a lot of things make so much sense now …”

“Like what?” Poe asked guardedly.

“Like some things your friends have said,” Finn said. “Or the looks I get when I’m wearing your jacket … do people think we’re … you know?”

Poe shrugged. “Probably. Maybe. Does it matter?”

“No,” Finn answered truthfully. In fact, the idea of other people thinking he and Poe Dameron were … it made him feel all warm and tingly inside.

“So,” Poe said. “That kiss with Rose. Was that your first one?”

“Yeah,” Finn admitted. “She kind of surprised me. It wasn’t exactly what I thought it was going to be, to be honest.”

“Because it wasn’t Rey?”

“No,” Finn said. “Rey and I are just friends. It just … I mean, I know kissing is supposed to be nice but it was just kind of … awkward.”

Poe scooted his chair closer and Finn was suddenly very aware of his lips as he opened them to speak. “Is this awkward?”

“Um, no, not really,” Finn said, moving his own chair closer without taking his eyes off of Poe’s face.

“Good,” said Poe. He leaned forward and took Finn’s face gently in his hands before pressing their lips together. For just a moment, Finn was frozen in place, and then he was returning the kiss and it was nothing like what he’d experienced with Rose.

Poe pulled back and looked Finn in the eyes. “Definitely not awkward,” Finn breathed. Poe grinned and leaned back in for another kiss, this one a bit more heated.

“Um, I think it’s my turn,” Finn said when Poe finally leaned back again.

“We’re still playing?”

“Yeah,” Finn said, reaching out to run his fingers through Poe’s still damp hair. “Never have I ever … had sex.”

The smile that crept across Poe’s face as he raised his hand made Finn melt inside. “I think it’s time we adjourn to the bedroom,” Poe said, his voice a little shaky.

“Agreed,” said Finn. As they stood up, he added, “I kind of like this game.”

************************************

This time Poe woke up first. His head was a bit muzzy from the alcohol, but he wasn’t technically hung over. Finn, on the other hand, might be a bit worse for wear this morning, and not just because of the booze. As Poe’s mind cleared he remembered exactly what they’d gotten up to last night, and he hoped there would be no regrets. Finn was new to drinking and that stuff was pretty powerful.

Oh, kriff, I hope he doesn’t think I took advantage of him. He sat up suddenly, which woke up Finn. “Hey,” Finn said lazily, reaching up to pull Poe back down next to him. “Where’re you going?” His eyes were bleary but Poe saw no anger in them, just a softness that made him relax into Finn’s arms.

“Nowhere,” he said. “I just … kind of startled myself awake, I guess.”

Finn yawned and started playing with Poe’s hair. “Uh, Finn,” Poe said, “are we okay? I mean, last night …”

Finn stopped him with a kiss. “Last night was very … gosh, Poe I don’t even have the words for what last night was.” He laughed. “I … never knew what all the fuss was about … you know.”

Poe laughed back. “Yeah, I know.” He snuggled closer. “Oh, buddy, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

“Since Tadokana?”

“How’d you know?”

“The jacket. And the way you hugged me,” Finn said. “It was … different than hugging Rey. Better.”

“Definitely better,” Poe said, wrapping his arms tightly around Finn’s waist and pulling him close. They skipped breakfast that morning.

**********************************

The rest of the quarantine went by quickly. Poe finished the repairs and even a few small upgrades to the ship, and Finn read two novels, but they spend most of the time learning about each other. And by the time the droid woke up and announced they could leave the ship to complete their mission, they walked hand and hand down the ramp.

Three hours later, they had collected Leia’s precious cargo, stashed it in the back and were ready to blast off. “Think anyone will be surprised?,” Finn asked as Poe maneuvered the ship into space and set a course for the jump off point.

“Honestly, no,” he answered. “Like you said, the whole jacket thing …” He winked and Finn chuckled deeply. Stars, I love that laugh, Poe thought.

They sat quietly, holding hands, while the ship flashed through hyperspace. Poe had to use both hands to pilot the ship back to base once they dropped back into normal space, but once they had landed, his hand slipped back into Finn’s.

Of course, Leia was there to greet them as they left the ship and he saw her eyes dart immediately to their hands. One eyebrow arched elegantly and Poe simply shrugged at her. “What’d you expect to happen?,” he said quietly.

“Exactly that,” she replied. “I was getting tired of waiting for you two to figure things out. Besides, I had this week in the pool and I hate to lose a bet.” She turned away to supervise the unloading of the cargo.

“And that’s why she’s the General,” Rey said, appearing at Finn’s side with a smirk on her face.

“Were you in on this bet, too?” Poe asked.

“Of course,” she said. “Practically the whole base was.” She laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. Just because you two are oblivious doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

She kissed them both on the cheek. “I’m happy for you,” she said. “Just don’t start making out in public. That’s gross.” She rolled her eyes and walked away.

“I don’t know about you, but I take that as a challenge,” Poe said.

“Challenge accepted,” Finn said, putting his arm around Poe. “Let’s go practice.”

[sw5w]

The Royal Starship Flies Low

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:17:23

[caphhhhfgjdkhgjfj-firstmate]

Everythin’ in the pile of shit near the ramps’ mine don’t touch

Ooc

exit entrance thingy idk what to call it some people on the Reddit post said boarding ramp or hatch

Tho Reddit user bumholeofdoom said it’s called Tim

Also Jonny’s a lier most of that shit isn’t his

[stellanslashgeode]

Work in Progress Wednesday

Here's another snippet from Way of the Mynock. I like the fact that since the canon divergence I've turned Han and Chewie from drug smugglers to Air America running ops for spies. And Saw and Barriss should have been best buds.

  Chewbacca greeted her warmy at the top of the ramp. She made light conversation about the success of the mission on their way to the cockpit. Han was leaning against the threshold giving her his usual put-upon look. He’d matured a little over the years but insisted on maintaining a detached sarcasm in their relationship.

  “Well, Sister; we goin back to Aldera?”

  “We have a stop to make first, I’ll input the coordinates in the navcomputer.” She took a seat in the navigator’s station.

  Han grunted. “This have something to do with that cargo you haven’t offloaded yet?”

  “Yes. Let’s get it into good hands.”

  Once they reached the rendezvous point at a lonely hyperspace junction they powered down and waited. A far larger bulk freighter docked with them, and Benthic “Two-Tubes” of the Partisans entered first via the airlock. He patted down each crew member (even Chewbacca for some reason). Barriss then took a seat in the galley while he diligently searched every cabin and hatch before reporting back to his people. 

  That’s new. Barriss thought to herself. He’s usually cautious, but this is far more thorough than usual.

  It was only once the sweep was complete that Saw boarded, along with a few of his captains. His crew lingered to talk shop with Han and Chewie, but Saw went straight to sit with Barriss in the galley. He set down two glasses which he filled with his homemade hootch. After they had clinked the rims of their glasses and downed the first shot Barriss broke the silence. “It’s good to see you again, old friend.”

  Saw frowned and nodded. “Same here.”

  There was something different about him. His appearance was constantly changing, he was wearing more armor than usual, for instance. His hair was starting to grow out. Barriss suspects he shaves it before big missions. He had more scars where his skin was visible, and two green eyes this time. Moreover Barriss sensed a heightened paranoia tinged with a certain sadness. She looked around at his crew in an attempt to grasp what else had changed.

  “Where’s your little protégé?”

  He shifted in his seat and there was a brief stir of emotions, letting Barriss know she’d tapped the vein of sadness. Regret. “I had to let her go her own way, it was getting too dangerous for her. There are traitors and informants everywhere.”

  “It pains me to hear that, old friend. She was good for you, being a teacher and guardian. She forced a gentleness in you. I’m sure she’ll go far, relying on your tutelage.”

  He grunted and refilled their glasses, subtly inferring he had no further comment on the matter. “What have you got for me this time?”

  She sipped the powerful brew this time and gave him a subtle smile. “It’s in the cargo hold. Several crates of explosive nano-droids.”

  Gererra’s eyes went wide. “You finally trust me with your recipe?” 

  “I would have sooner, but I had to completely redesign and reprogram them from scratch. It has been a side project or hobby for me all these years, scraping together what I could when a project came in under-budget. I regret that it took so long. But at least the Empire has no countermeasures against this recipe.”

  She tried to meet with Gererra two or three times a year, though sometimes a year or two would go by without an appropriate window. She of course kept tabs on his activities and remained in contact at all times. It pleased her to provide this long-requested boon.

  “What’s my intended target?” He refilled his glass a third time.

  “No target this time.”

  He raised an eyebrow, pausing his raised beverage. “What targets are off the table, then?”

  “Nothing is forbidden.” She spoke softly and sweetly. “Just make them howl.”

  He set down his glass and studied her expression. “Really? That’s not how this usually works.” He squinted at her. “Something has changed.”

  “I am giving you munitions, it is my hope that you use them at your discretion.”

  He grunted again. “What’s going on at that HQ of yours?”

  Barriss’s expression soured and she took another delicate sip to cover it up. “The Alliance is maturing. In the scrappy and threadbare old days they set me free to do as I wished. And what we could afford was targeted bombings and assassinations. Asymmetric insurgency. Injection of a little chaos into the New Order the Emperor was forming. Now that we have assembled a proper fighting force they want to fight a proper war. It is as you predicted, use of force edicts. Clearance from military intelligence for my missions. I’ve got people who supposedly are my peers but wear general’s pips looking over my shoulder.” 

  She drained her cup so it appeared she was more bitter about the taste than her situation. “For instance, one of my agents has gone missing. He got obsessed with Imperial prison labor camps, and wanted to ascertain what they were building. I’m worried that he’s gone and gotten himself captured under an assumed name. I have been forbidden from sending a rescue.” It took effort for Barriss to tamp down her expression. “I just want to give this bounty to someone I can trust to use it well.”

  He laughed, a little of the old Saw peeking out. “There’s still a bit of the young radical in you yet!”

  She smiled, lowered her head, and looked at him from under her eyelashes. “Perhaps there is. I’ve been reflecting more and more on our conversations, my friend.”

  “Have you now?” He leaned back in his chair and sipped.

  “On your reasoning for maintaining your relative independence in the movement. On your warnings to me. On what sort of galaxy the Organas wish to create upon our success.” She no longer had to hide her patron’s identity now that Saw was sworn in.

  “Have you doubts, comrade?”

  She made a bitter face. “Since departing the Jedi Order in shame I have leaned into my Mirialan heritage, to ground myself. And in our history we are so often subjugated in galactic conflicts. Invaded and enslaved by the Sith. Raided by the Mandalorians. Blockaded and economically exploited by the Trade Federation. Occupied by the Separatists. It made us survivors, it forced us to be strong and resilient. But once the Empire’s yolk is off our necks, I am not sure if being another small voice in a huge senate dome is our best fate. Perhaps it is time for Mirial to stand alone, dictating interplanetary affairs and contracts in their local group.”

  “Perhaps so.” Saw agreed. “ Ironic that the Empire would turn us into Separatists. Overthrowing the Empire shall be a vast endeavor, but we should not overlook the opportunity to go back to first principles once they are defeated. Create something new, something better.”

  “That’s why I need you around, old friend.” She leaned closer. “One of these days one of these former senators is going to be uncomfortable sharing a bargaining table with you. They won’t force you out, but you’ll be handed your hat and patted on the shoulder. Saw, I need you. I need you in. I’ll do my best to keep you at the table.”

  A little of the previous melancholy settled around his shoulders. “Why? Why stick your neck out for a fellow Clone War vet like me? One so broken down and set in his ways?”

  Barriss leaned further forward, a little steel settling into her gaze. “Because these people want reestablishment of the status quo and we want utopia. Let’s face it, the ones that were there, they capitulated. Who’s to say it won’t happen again, then we’d be forced to fight this same war over again.” She refilled her own glass and topped off Saw’s. “It’s past time to break the cycle.”

  He laughed. “I knew there was something I liked about you at the start! You’ve got spine, Offee.” He raised his glass for a second toast and they both drank. “They’re not going to like that. You’ll not gain friends with this strategy.”

  “When has that stopped me before?” She grumbled. “Power only respects immovable objects. And immovable objections. I’ll go into imprisonment again, if need be.”

  “Not if I can help it!”

  She gently set her hand on his forearm. “Then stay alive, old friend. Do as much dirt as you like, harming the Empire. But stay ahead of the troopers, stay alive. And stay engaged with the brass.”

  He suddenly looked very sober. “I am more apt to make enemies than friends, Barriss. Even amongst those who would be allies.”

  “It’s a good thing they relegated me away from insurgency and towards counterintelligence, then. I have eyes everywhere. I’ll intercept any daggers pointing at your back. I swear to you.”

  Saw stood, looking like his knees ached with the effort. He extended an arm towards her. “Let us seal our vow, then.”

  She rose and they grasped forearms. “Go out and cleanse the Empire’s works with fire, and come back safely.”

  “May the Force be with us.”

[rudycomics]

Rudy Recs - Smoking Behind the Supermarket

I'm not really sure if I want to get too in the weeds for this manga but the latest 2 chapters (32 and 33) of Smoking Behind the Supermarket by Jinushi have felt like a step up in their craft that really made me pay more attention to the pages.

Spoilers for the manga if you're interested in reading it!

I remember starting this manga thinking that the concept was kind of fun. An older man working at a black company developing a crush on the cashier at his local convenience store, who happens the be the same person as the girl he starts having smoke breaks with outside. He's constantly stressed and a bit clueless and can't recognize that the two women are actually the same, since their on and off the clock appearances are so different.

The style was always pretty unique and charming but I'd say it felt pretty utilitarian in a way: no really intricate compositions or focal length, it's all quite flat and clear.

It looks this way basically all the way up until these latest chapters, with much more detail in hatched shadows, hair detail, and closer compositions that really make you pay attention to the art more-so than before.

The story generally stumbles through Sasaki, the black company employee, and Yamada, the cashier, smoking together after their shifts and getting closer to one another despite their generational gap and Yamada continuing to life the farce of being a separate individual, dubbed Tayama-san. Sasaki is generally clumsy and out of the loop, but his earnestness and easy to read nature makes Yamada continue to poke and prod him, like playing with a pet. She slowly develops an attachment to him because even if he's a bit out there, he's very considerate and gives off an air of someone with life experience that disarms Yamada when she leasts expects it.

There's a big story reveal that on their first meeting, the two both had personal revelations based on their short interaction. We know that Sasaki was charmed by Yamada and her smile (which particularly affected him because he was having an awful day at his job) but Yamada had been struggling with her own job and Sasaki came by and gave her advice that grounded her, yet she doesn't realize that it was Sasaki that was the man who spoke to her that day, only getting a vibe from current Sasaki that feels of a similar energy.

It's only in the most recent 2 chapters that we see both characters feels this nagging urge to want to reach out for companionship in ways that they don't really understand, weighed down by their different circumstances in life.

This ramps up the romantic tension soooo much so quickly that I found it INCREDIBLY gripping! I've been keeping up with this one for a while and it had its charm but suddenly I felt like "ohh, I get a sense for what these characters want and their yearning is so palpable."

The chapters end with this incredibly somber and bittersweet note, these characters are too conscious of the obstacles that keep them from truly being close and open with each other beyond the level they've reached and convince themselves individually that they are drawing a line.

I'm suddenly so interested in how these characters will grow and if they'll find it within themselves to change their minds about what they think they want or even deserve.

To bring it back full circle, I think that if the art is any sort of visual indicator, Jinushi might be taking their little romcom series more seriously and I'm really on board with wherever this story goes next.

[cross-my-heartt]

I uuuh... I suppose I should have seen this coming. Anyway a weird little character hyperfixation led to this and... enjoy, I guess? please? (There's lots of feels I promise.)

Title: Lead the way

Pairing: Alexsandr Kallus/Yogar Lyste

Chapters: 1/?

Summary: During Bridger’s attempt to extract him, Kallus’ plan goes awry and he ends up on a shuttle heading to Atollon with a very betrayed feeling prisoner in tow. Now if only he could convince Lyste he didn’t genuinely want to ruin his life despite doing everything in his power to frame him.

___

“Kallus, let’s go!”

Kallus hesitated as he watched Ezra gesticulate from the ramp of the shuttle. The situation was dire. A group of stormtroopers had just rushed into the hangar bay and they’d barely managed to subdue them before they’d completely disabled the shuttle.

Lyste had also recovered from the shock of being tackled and was now squirming in Kallus’ hold, angry and indignant but also confused as he tried to figure out what was happening.

He could still salvage this. Lyste was no longer a reliable witness and Kallus’ inaction as the rebels took out the troopers could be attributed to his efforts to subdue Lyste. Only it would be hard to explain why he hadn’t prioritized the escaping jedi over the much more easily manageable ‘traitor’.

Damn it all, if he could just convince Bridger to go already-

“Look out!”

“What?”

He turned around just in time to see two more troopers get thrown back by the force, hitting the wall at the far side of the hangar like rocks and dropping to the ground, their weapons rolling away uselessly. Kriff, these reinforcements were coming in fast.

“Bridger you need to leave –”

“You!”

Kallus winced, suppressing a curse.

Pryce had woken up.

“You’ll pay for this,” she howled from the floor of the hangar, “After him!”

He didn’t get the chance to bite out a response as Lyste finally managed to elbow him in the stomach and more reinforcements swarmed into the hangar. Taking cover behind the shuttle, he wrestled the struggling Lieutenant back under control and peered around the ramp to speak to Bridger who was still frantically calling for him.

“Go, I’ll take another transport,” Kallus said, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could.

Lyste gave a panicked yelp at that but Bridger finally seemed to listen and sent Kallus a nod before rushing into the ship.

“You better!” Kallus heard him call out as the ramp hissed shut.

He waited with bated breath until the shuttle was in the air and the troopers redirected their fire toward it to drag the panicking Lyste to a nearby ship. He couldn’t risk engaging Yogar in hand to hand if he let him go or for the man to reach for one of Kallus’ weapons – or one of his own – and stall him.

So Lyste was coming along for the ride.

“Let me go! Agent, let me go!” Lyste fumed.

“I’m sorry Lieutenant, not happening,” Kallus murmured, feeling genuinely apologetic. Perhaps they would hold off shooting at them when they realized Lyste was on board.

A barrage of blaster fire hit the side of the ship the moment he thought that and he slammed the hatch controls with a wince. Right… no chance in hell. Not after Lyste had been the one to stun Pryce.

At least Bridger and his friends seemed to have gotten away, he noted as the sound of engines faded away and was swallowed up by the roar of the troopers’ assault. The sheer violence of the attack seemed to strike Lyste speechless for a moment and Kallus used the opportunity to throw him against the shuttle’s wall, incapacitating him temporarily while he rushed to the controls.

The rest of it was easy.

None of the troopers got a precise enough hit to damage any major systems and the shuttle was shooting into space before any of the cruiser’s TIEs could be scrambled. A quick disabling of the ship’s transponder later and they were ready for hyperspace.

Kallus didn’t hesitate as his hand took a firm grip of the lever – the stars around the ship twitched and then blurred and in a blink, the jet black of space was replaced by shifting blue.

And just like that, it was done.

Done… He had officially defected.

With a sigh and whisper of leather, he slumped into the pilot’s chair, watching the mesmerizing swirl of light pass them by. He had actually done it. All of his actions in the past few months had been leading up to this and yet it still felt somewhat surreal.

All of his work as Fulcrum, compromised and cut short in a single day.

He had been so close to getting away without being discovered too. But he didn’t feel any remorse now. For all that his life had just been upended, he knew this was the right thing to do –

“Don’t move.”

Shit. He had completely forgotten.

Taking a slow breath, he turned around in the chair to come face to face with an intense looking Lyste. And what do you know. Lyste did have a spare blaster. How lucky.

“Yogar,” Kallus began, raising his hands in a placating gesture and hoping to appeal to Lyste by calling him by his first name. He had to think fast. If Lyste managed to put him out of action long enough, he could drop them out of hyperspace and reactivate the transponder. Kallus couldn’t allow him to do that.

“Let’s not do anything rash now.”

“Anything rash?” Lyste scoffed and then gaped at Kallus. His voice bordered on hysteric. “You framed me. You kidnapped me. You’re a spy.”

Something dangerous flashed in Lyste’s eyes.

“You’re a traitor.”

Kallus swallowed heavily at the word. He began to rise from his chair and noted the way Lyste’s whole body stiffened at the action.

“I said don’t move!” Lyste warned. “You’re going to turn this shuttle around and surrender yourself to the Empire.”

Kallus shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that, Lyste,” he said quietly.

“Yes, you can.” Lyste replied, clipped. “The controls are right there. If you don’t comply I will be forced to shoot you.”

His words prompted Kallus to take a doubtful look at Lyste’s blaster. It was a smaller hand model, easily concealed in an imperial uniform but powerful enough to pack a punch at close range. No stun setting, the agent in him observed grimly.

Except that didn’t matter because Lyste wasn’t going to shoot him. No, Lyste was in no state to shoot anyone.

He was actually shaking, his entire arm trembling as he held the blaster in a white knuckled grip, brow pinched in a pained grimace.

And it wasn’t because Lyste was a coward, Kallus knew, feeling his heart clench at the thought. It was because Lyste didn’t want to shoot him.

He felt the first stirrings of guilt break through his barriers.

“I’m sorry, Lyste, I can’t allow you to take control of this ship.” He said nonetheless, ignoring the feeling and taking a measured step towards the other now that he was calm in the knowledge he wouldn’t get blasted.

Guilty or not, he couldn’t afford to get caught now. Not with so much on the line. Interrogation training aside, there was no telling what methods Thrawn would use to squeeze his secrets out of him and he hadn’t come this far for all of it to become moot.

Still, it was painful to see the betrayal in Lyste’s eyes swell, his lower lip trembling ever so slightly.

Kallus took another step forward and Lyste jerked back in response. “No! Stay back! I’m warning you, I will shoot.”

“Give me the blaster, Lyste, I know you won’t do it.”

For a while the two of them stood in a deadlock, Kallus’ calm breaths contrasted by the long moments Lyste didn’t dare to draw any air into his lungs. Then something seemed to snap in him, like a boot pressing down on a dry branch, and his whole body sagged, the tremor in his arm vanishing along with his resolve.

Kallus watched the determined light fade from his eyes and the eerie way his whole being seemed to surrender to lethargy.

“So much for that I suppose…” Lyste murmured as he lowered the blaster and his gaze down to the shuttle’s floor.

Fresh guilt surged up in Kallus and he had to swallow it down in order to move and take the blaster from him.

For the first time since slipping that code cylinder out of Lyste’s pocket, Kallus forced himself to face what he’d done to this man.

He’d framed Lyste. And he’d done it without so much as batting an eye.

Lyste. The only half-decent man he knew in the entire navy. His friend or at least someone who was earnestly trying to be his friend, the only one, Kallus had recently realized, who’d shown any kind of concern for the fact that Kallus had nearly died back on that ice moon.

If his little plan had worked back in the hangar, Lyste would be undergoing torture and interrogation right now and would probably even have to face execution by the end of it.

All of it orchestrated by Kallus’ own hand. He knew that part of it was the ruthless efficiency trained into him by the ISB but he still felt a small bit of revulsion at himself for being so cold and clinical about it while it was happening.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, getting a small flinch as his fingers brushed Lyste’s. He didn’t miss the way Lyste’s feet dragged across the floor on his way to put some distance between them while Kallus tucked the weapon into his belt. At least he didn’t question if Kallus could keep him in check without keeping a weapon drawn.

By the time he’d finished double checking the navicompuer’s coordinates, Lyste had curled up in the corner of the cockpit, knees drawn up to his chest and hands gripping his forearms. His expression was grim in the swirling light of hyperspace and Kallus had to remind himself what was at stake, using that thought to brace himself for what he was about to do next.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Lyste spoke up from his place on the floor, a good amount of bitterness seeping into his voice. “Pryce must be fuming right now. And you made Thrawn look like a fool too.”

“I suppose I am,” Kallus muttered and reached back to pull the pair of binders he carried everywhere from their all too familiar place on his belt.

Lyste gawked at him as his eyes fell on the device.

“You’re serious?” he asked in complete disbelief and all Kallus could do was shrug. ISB or not, he couldn’t afford to have a prisoner wandering around, free to do whatever he wished. This was protocol. Nothing personal.

Or at least he hoped it was protocol for the rebels, knowing how the Empire doubled down on their efforts to capture them every single day.

Lyste still looked incredulous but he held his hands out nonetheless, looking sullen and avoiding Kallus’ eyes once again until Kallus was back at the pilot’s seat.

“Will you at least drop me off somewhere I can find a transport back to the Empire?”

And there was another spike of guilt to add to the growing mass of them buried in his gut.

Kallus bit his lip.

Traveling anywhere in an imperial shuttle, especially to a world with no imperial presence, would draw attention and Thrawn only needed a crumb to pick up on a trail. Maybe he could rendezvous with the Ghost crew and hitch a ride, letting Lyste have the ship, but he’d already punched in the coordinates for Atollon and he’d need a tech to delete those from the log… maybe Bridger’s droid? No, it was too much of a gamble. He didn’t even know if Lyste hadn’t been looking when he’d set the navicomuter.

And besides, returning a captured imperial officer to the Empire… Zeb had once done it for him. Kallus wanted to do it for Lyste. But with Thrawn looking for them, every move like that was a risk. The Chiss had an abnormal ability to glean useful data from seemingly worthless information and Kallus was already anxious to tell the rebels everything he knew before the Empire made it obsolete.

No… he couldn’t risk it.

Unable to look Lyste in the eye, he shook his head from the pilot’s chair. There was a sharp intake of air before Lyste curled even further in on himself and Kallus turned completely away to look at the controls in front of him.

Somehow he felt like he had just sentenced a man to death. As if he hadn’t done that once already, he reminded himself, clenching his teeth and steeling his resolve.

Neither of them said a word for the remainder of the journey.

[forcesung]

There was a clattering of heels, and Han looked up to see Jagged Fel and Zekk coming down the boarding ramp.

Fel, son of one of the Empire’s most celebrated fighter pilots, and nephew of one of the New Republic’s, was a well-muscled man of middle height, his hair, neatly trimmed beard, and mustache black, a white lock at his hairline marking an old scalp wound. He wore a black flight suit; on a dark night, he would look like a face and hands floating in the air.

Zekk, Jaina’s Jedi partner, was unusually tall, his long dark hair currently braided. Like Leia, he was dressed in ordinary Jedi robes.

Jag held a blaster pistol, his finger not in the trigger housing, and as he neared Han he reversed it, offering it butt-first. “Found it.”

Han set down his drink. He took the pistol, twirled it experimentally, and holstered it. “Now I feel dressed again. Where was it?”

“During your acrobatics, a hatch over one of the escape pods must have popped open. Your blaster fell into it, and the hatch closed and locked the next time you were right-side up.”

“Thanks.” Han turned back to Leia. “Actually, I could get used to this. Have the youngsters do all the work, all the time. Hey, somebody get me a drink.”

Zekk sat in the fourth and last chair, picked up Han’s tumbler from where it rested, and moved it two centimeters closer to Han. “Your drink, sir.”

—Legacy of the Force: Fury, Aaron Allston