#i said a million times in the tags and summary 'this is dark and heed the tags' if youre surprised by it at that point idk what to tell you

[bandtrees]

two conversations i want to have about "dead dove do not eat"

it's annoying how people treat it as a genre or descriptor in and of itself when it hypothetically should have no ties to "problematic" or "dark", it literally just means "what you see is what you get with these tags" - which is a concept that can encompass any kind of writing. in an ideal world dead dove is not a Type of fic, it is literally just a neutral descriptor, and i think it's very annoying how it got largely co-opted by proshippers who think it's shorthand for Dark And Twisted Porn™ and treat it as some kind of genre in and of itself

it just sounds incredibly lame. what's wrong with just saying "yeah heed the tags this is serious" instead of assuming everyone knows about a nonsense vaguely-artsy meme phrase. can we not just use our words

[kwanisms]

Of Hellfire & Saints 01 — k.hongjoong, k.yeosang

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong �� fem!Reader wc: 27.2k (in this part. 50.2k total) summary: After the death of the love of her life, Y/N runs away from the village only to be caught in a heavy storm but she manages to find refuge in Hongjoong's hut in the forest. While waiting out the storm, someone knocks on the door, prompting her to answer the door. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, historical setting, demon warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, historical period setting (think Puritan or like Salem witch trials but fantasy and with more creative liberty lol), mentions of: alcohol & food consumption, witches & witchcraft, religious text & ideology, harm against animals, pregnancy; attempted SA, major & minor character deaths (heed this warning, i’m not playing around. This shit is DARK), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

taglists moved to reblogs join my taglists: main | series Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  Send a DM or ask to be removed from my taglist. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.  AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: the word count on this got away from me and so to make it all fit because i really don't want to edit it down, I've split it into two posts. I had really hoped to keep the word count down after what happened with part one but I really could not stop writing. as I said in the author's notes of the first part, read with care and caution. Do NOT ignore the warnings. They are there for a reason, a lot of people die. It’s not fun. It’s gruesome. Also keep in mind that every action has a reason. Now that’s out of the way, please enjoy this sequel and keep an eye out for the next part which will be Seonghwa’s backstory. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. 

smut warnings: there are multiple scenes in this so I will list the warnings for each one here but all of them involved unprotected sex. You do not do this. Use protection, this is fantasy. SCENE 1: table sex, dirty talk, spitting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rough (at times) sex, lowkey love-making, dom!Hongjoong, orgasm denial (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), mild choking (f receiving), praise (f receiving), cum inside, and that’s it on this one! SCENE 2: dry humping, choking (f receiving), table sex, fingering (f receiving), spitting, praise (f receiving), mild degradation (f receiving), cum inside, and that should be all but as always, let me know if i missed something SCENE 3: virgin!Yeosang, mild dirty talk, praise (m receiving), oral (m receiving), grinding, low-key love making (it’s complicated), mild breeding kink, cum inside, slight hair pulling (m receiving) and that should be all of them!

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Outside the atmosphere was eerie, wind whipping through the trees as lightning flashed overhead, deep rumbles of thunder which shook the ground following the lightning. You didn’t stop to look back as you took off, hearing the door to your house open and your father scream after you.

You didn’t stop once, running for the forest. As you reached the large tree that marked the spot between the clearing of your village and the edge of the forest, remnants of a rope hung from a branch, swaying in the wind.

You could feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces as you stared at the rope. All your hopes, dreams, and plans had been hung with that rope and died just like your lover. You didn’t hesitate any longer, dashing into the trees as another yell of your name came, drowned out as the thunder grew louder.

As you ran through the woods, you could hear the sound of raindrops pelting the trees, hitting the ground and few even hitting the top of your head or your shoulders as you continued to run. At first, you weren’t sure where to go but the answer came to you as Hongjoong’s cabin came into view in the darkness.

The lack of light in the window was a solidification that Hongjoong was gone. You continued on, running over, pushing open the gate and letting it swing shut as you reached the door and pushed it open. You shut the door as the skies truly opened up, rain pouring through the trees as lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the wind whipped the trees and vegetation.

Once in the safety of the cabin, you moved to start a fire, first lighting a candle that sat on the table. You then moved to the hearth and managed to start a fire and get it going. You knelt on the floor, looking around the now illuminated cabin as the storm raged outside. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually they would come for you. You would have to finish packing Hongjoong’s things and leave in the cover of night.

A loud clap of thunder made you jump and your eyes landed on the shelf in front of the door to the hidden crawlspace. Your promise to Hongjoong came to the forefront of your mind. “Tomorrow,” you whispered. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

As you turned back to the fire, three loud knocks rang out from the door and you spun around, staring at the wood. You hadn’t latched the door when you came in and you were regretting that now. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the forest briefly.

Your breathing came out in shallow, ragged breaths as you slowly got up. Another three knocks rang out as thunder cracked the skies overhead. Instead of moving to the door, you moved to the window, peering carefully out the window as another flash of lightning illuminated the garden. You couldn’t see anyone standing beyond the door.

As you pulled back, you started to wonder if maybe you were hearing things. You walked over to the door and hesitantly placed your hand on the wood, taking a few deep breaths. A flash of thunder, followed by another clap of thunder rang out and you sighed, letting out a shaky laugh until three more pounds on the door rattled it in place.

You let out an involuntary scream, jumping back and pulling your hand away. You stared at the wood and in a momentary surge of confidence, you grabbed the knob and threw the door open. You peered outside and saw nothing as the storm raged on. The goats were huddled in their shed and the chickens had returned to their coop.

You glanced around once more before backing into the cabin and shutting the door.

As you made your way back to the fire, another clap of thunder preceded three more loud knocks. Now you were getting annoyed. You crossed the cabin, wrenching the door open only to freeze at the sight of a dark figure standing outside the door.

Your words failed you as you watched the figure sway slowly before they turned. The light coming from the cabin was too dim to see that far out the door but when lightning flashed overhead, you couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped you.

Standing less than five feet from you was Hongjoong. He was covered in what seemed to be blood and caked in mud, soaked from head to toe. He had a far off expression, almost as if he were in some kind of trance. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you stared at him.

After a moment, you pulled your hand away, breathing shakily as your hands trembled.

“H-Hongjoong?” you whispered. This seemed to catch his attention. “Y/N?” he asked, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?” You stared at him, shocked that he was even standing in front of you.

“I should be asking you that,” you said as he closed the distance, pulling you into a hug against his soaked form. “How did I get here?” he asked softly, his voice breaking. You wrapped your arms around him, noticing his shaking body.

“Come on,” you said softly, pulling back and guiding him inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him. “Let’s get your dried off.” You led him over to the hearth, making him sit down before moving to fetch some dry, clean clothes.

As you moved around, Hongjoong sat still save for his shaking. ‘He must be so cold,’ you thought as you returned to his side. “Why am I covered in dirt?” he asked, looking at his hands which looked to be caked in dirt and mud.

You reached up to start helping him undress. “Let’s get these wet clothes off you,” you murmured. “I’ll get some water to clean you off,” you added, standing up as Hongjoong continued to pull at his clothes. You grabbed the basin from the corner and turned to find Hongjoong standing, his shirt removed.

You let out a gasp and he turned to face you. Your eyes scanned his body, taking in the black vine like pattern that covered a good portion of his torso and arms. He looked down and muttered a curse as you walked over, setting the basin on the table and took his hands, inspecting them. 

You dipped a cloth in the water and tried scrubbing his hands but the dirt didn’t budge. It was then you inspected his hands and the markings a little closer. It looked like it had been burned into his skin. “It’s not dirt,” you whispered. “The skin has been… blackened.”

Hongjoong looked up, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. “Blackened?” he asked, looking back down. “Burned?” You guided him to sit down, continuing to inspect his skin, wiping away any dirt that you did find. After a couple minutes, you looked up at him, kneeling before him. 

“What do you remember?”

Hongjoong looked down at you. “I…” he trailed off. “I don’t remember anything,” he continued, his voice breaking as he looked down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s happened to me!”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Hey, it’s all right,” you said soothingly. “I’m here. Calm down.” He nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths. “Now, tell me what you do remember.” Hongjoong took one more deep breath before speaking.

“I remember a room without windows. It was small. There was a bed, a bedside table, and a wardrobe. I remember seeing Yeosang and… and you,” he explained. You nodded, taking his hands. “That was the room in the church they had you in,” you replied.

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed in confusion. “They had me? What do you mean?”

You sighed and stood up, pulling a chair over and sat down. “Hongjoong, do you remember the investigation?” you asked. He stared at you unmoving. “Investigation?” he whispered, looking away for a moment before his eyes moved back.

“They were holding me for questioning,” he said suddenly. You nodded. “Yes, exactly. Jonas and Yeosang had you staying in one of the rooms in the church while they questioned you. The villagers blamed you for the problems in the village. Do you recall that?”

Hongjoong nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “It’s all coming back now. I remember their questions and telling them the truth, that it wasn’t me!” he added. You nodded, taking his hand. “Exactly. The villagers didn’t believe you though, despite Yeosang’s insistence you were innocent. They decided you were guilty anyway and they—”

“They dragged me out of the church,” Hongjoong whispered, his eyes on your hands. “They dragged me out of the church and took me to the edge of the forest.” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “They’d hung a rope from the tree,” Hongjoong whispered.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Did they… kill me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Am I dead?” The tears finally broke past your shield and you nodded, tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“Then… what am I doing here?” he asked, looking around. He reached out to touch the table. “I can feel everything. The table, the floor, your hand,” he explained. His gaze looked up once more. “Do you remember anything else?” you asked.

“I remember darkness. The creak of the rope and then silence. It was so silent. And dark. It was so fucking dark, Y/N. I tried to scream but I couldn’t even hear myself. And then there was this intense, blinding light,” he choked out between sobs.

“And then I fell,” he gasped. “I fell for what felt like an eternity and it was still so dark. The light just disappeared. And then it just… stopped.” Your heart ached as he explained his experience. “That must have been after I died,” he murmured. 

“And then I heard a voice,” he whispered, looking up at you. “Your voice.”

You were caught off guard as you stared at him. “M-my voice?” He nodded.

And then it was gone. Silence again until I felt this pain. This intense, crippling pain. It was like I was being burned, all over my body,” he said and froze. Both your eyes trailed down to the scorch-like vines that littered his arms and torso.

Delicately, you traced one of the lines and looked up at Hongjoong. “Does it hurt?” you asked softly. He shook his head. “No,” he answered. “If anything… I can’t feel it. When you touch the skin, I don’t feel anything.”

You moved your hand, pressing your fingers against his non charred flesh. “What about that?” you asked. “Do you feel that?” Hongjoong nodded, looking down at your fingers. “Yes,” he said softly. Neither one of you said anything for what felt like a long time before he finally cleared his throat.

“I also remember laughter,” he continued in a trembling voice. “Not joyous laughter,” he added. “More maniacal. More… delirious.” You stared up at him as you listened, letting his words process. “And the pain…” his voice trailed off as he choked back a sob.

You pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay,” you said softly. It’s going to be alright,” you whispered. Your dress muffled the sound of his sobs as his body shook. You did your best to calm him, keeping a firm hold on him. You wanted to comfort him the way he always comforted you.

It took a few minutes for Hongjoong’s sobs to finally subside and when they did, you continued to rub his back for comfort. He pulled back, taking a deep breath. “And then,” he started. “It all just stopped.”

You took his face in your hands, wiping his tears away. “I woke up in the dark.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “You… woke up?” you asked, repeating his words. He nodded. “I felt around and all I could feel was wood. I knocked on it and it was hard but there wasn’t an echo.”

“The coffin,” you whispered. ‘At least they had the decency to put his body in a coffin,’ you thought before shaking your head slightly. “What happened after that?” you asked, caressing his cheek. “I summoned a ball of light and could see that I was in a coffin,” he explained. “And then, I don’t know what happened to me but it’s like I suddenly grew stronger.”

“I was able to break through the wood and claw my way through the dirt, pulling myself up out of the mud. And then I just started… walking,” he finished. You watched as he sat back and reached out, placing a hand on his. “I think when I was walking, I blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was standing in the rain and heard your voice.”

You sat unmoving, listening to his story with rapt attention. “And now… I don’t know what to think. Am I dead? Am I alive?” he whispered. You got up, grabbed the rag from the table, and dipped it into the basin. “Let’s worry about the formalities later,” you said as you wrung out the excess water and turned to Hongjoong. “First, let’s get you clean.”

Hongjoong nodded, sitting up as you moved to stand in front of him and took his chin gently in your hand as you carefully started to wipe the dirt, mud, and blood from his face. As your hand moved down, wiping the skin of his neck, your eyes fell on the bruising.

‘From the rope.’

Hongjoong noticed your hesitation and took your hand, pulling it to his face and pressing the back of your hand to his cheek. “You don’t know how much I missed your touch,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. You could stop the small smile from forming on your face as you turned your hand, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look up at you.

“No more than I missed yours,” you countered with a chuckle. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, grabbing the material of your dress and pulled you closer, pressing his face into your stomach. “I missed this,” he said, his voice muffled as you combed your fingers through his hair. “I missed being here with you. Being alone together.”

“I missed it too,” you replied, brushing his hair back as he looked up at you. “Promise me you’ll never leave again,” you said softly to which Hongjoong nodded. “I promise, Starlight,” he whispered. Your smile grew and you casually wiped a fleck of mud off his cheek.

“You’ll have to take a bath tomorrow after the storm passes,” you said softly. “At the stream. It should be flooded now with all this rain,” you added, waving your hand as you turned back to the basin. Hongjoong stood, moving to stand behind you.

“Then why don’t we both take one tomorrow,” he suggested, resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled as his hands slid up your hips to your waist, holding you in place. “I’m not even dirty,” you countered as you wrung out the rag.

You felt Hongjoong press into you from behind, his hard cock pressing against your backside. “That can be rectified,” he whispered in your ear, one hand sliding to your stomach before moving down, pulling up the hem of your skirt. “Hongjoong,” you started, words failing you as his hand dipped under your dress, sliding between your thighs and finding your clit with ease.

A moan escaped past your lips at the feeling and you leaned against the table, keeping your balance by pressing your hands against the wood. “You smell so good,” you heard Hongjoong whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Makes me want a taste,” he added, tongue darting out to lick up the side of your neck, making you gasp. His hands moved to your hips, turning you around to face him before smashing his lips against yours, parting your lips with his and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, muffling a groan.

Your back pressed against the edge of the table and Hongjoong pulled back to push the basin aside, knocking it and the water to the floor before he lifted you onto the table, pulling your dress up and ducking his head under the skirt.

You let out a moan, head falling back against the wood as his tongue met your clit, tracing around it and dancing over it. Your thighs rested on his shoulders as he licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, unrestrained.

You felt his nails dig into the plush flesh of your thighs as he continued to lick and suck. You reached down, fingers knotting into his hair as he shook his head and before you could fall over the edge, he pulled back, inspecting his work.

You tried to protest but felt two fingers enter you slowly, a slight sting to the stretch that was quickly replaced with a dull ache. He moved, pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly speeding up as his tongue returned to your clit, flicking against it rapidly.

Your orgasm came hurtling towards you, crashing over you quickly and making your legs shake as you chanted his name in quick succession. When the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he stood. He leaned over you, pulling you into a messy, passionate kiss as he started to undo your dress and peel it from your body.

Your own hands moved to his pants, undoing the ties and letting them fall as he pulled the last of your clothes off. He left a trail of light kisses down your neck, stopping to nip at your collar before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Tongue swirling around it as he kneaded the other with his hand. You ran your fingers through his hair as he lifted his head, his heated gaze sending a fresh wave of arousal throughout your body.

As if he could smell it, Hongjoong pulled back, looking down at your wet sex. He spread your folds with his thumbs and groaned at the sight. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured. “I missed this cunt so much,” he added. You let out a whine, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for him to fill you up with his cock.

“Is my Starlight impatient?” he cooed, looking up at you, giving you a smirk. You nodded, letting out another whine in an attempt to entice him. Hongjoong looked back down and you watched as he let a drop of saliva fall onto your sex. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed against your clit, gathering as much of your slick and his spit and coating the head of his cock.

He guided the head to your aching hole and looked up, meeting your gaze as he pushed into you, lips parting in a silent moan as his eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of your warm walls enveloping him.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he slid in, unrestrained, until his hips were flush with your ass. He repositioned your thighs, pushing them further apart and against your sides, allowing him to slip in just a little further. You let out a groan, feeling completely full of nothing but his cock.

“God I missed this,” he gasped, looking down where your bodies connected. He pulled back slowly, watching his cock reappear before slowly pushing back into you, letting out a moan. He repeated this, setting a very slow pace. It wasn’t enough to satisfy, just enough to keep you both on the edge.

You tried to meet his movements but he held you firmly in place. “I’m in control here, Starlight,” he said, his voice low. You looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Please, Hongjoong,” you whispered. “Please fuck me.” Hongjoong let out a groan, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before he pulled you up into a sitting position. “Hold onto me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you off the table, carrying you over to the bed where you both fell, his cock never leaving you. Once you were on your back on the mattress, he resumed his movements, thrusting hard but slow into you, making you gasp with each thrust.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he murmured as he continued to rock into you. “I did that last time,” he added. “This time, I’m going to do what I should have done for your first time and make love to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued his rough thrusts but kept the pace slow, taking his time drawing it out for as long as he could. It was enough to keep your orgasm building but it was a slow build. You were growing impatient but didn’t say anything, not when it felt so good.

Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts before he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him and taking your hands. “Ride me,” he whispered. You hesitated, looking down at him. Of all the times you and Hongjoong had been sexually intimate, you’d never been on top, he’d always been in control and on top of you, regardless if you were on your back or your stomach.

“I’ve never…” you trailed off as he placed your hands on his chest, taking your hips in his and slowly lifted you. “Now back down,” he said softly, guiding you to sink back down, his cock sliding into you once more. “That’s right,” he whispered, helping you lift your hips.

“Now you control the speed,” he added. “Lean forward a little,” he added, moving one hand to the middle of your back and pressing forward. You followed his guidance, leaning forward slightly and moving your hands to the mattress, placing them on either side of his head as you raised and lowered your hips.

Each time you came back down on him, his cock fit snugly inside you, reaching deep. “You can go faster than that,” Hongjoong urged, reaching up to pull you against his chest before taking your hips and guiding your movements.

He thrust up to meet your movements, the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with the wet sound of his cock plunging into your cunt repeatedly. “Oh f-” you gasped, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m gonna—” your words were cut off by Hongjoong lifting your hips, ripping your orgasm away from you.

“Hongjoong!” you whined as he sat up, pushing you onto the bed beside him and bending you over. He entered you from behind, setting the same pace as before, pounding into you from behind. “Oh fuck,” you cried out, burying your face into the sheets. You felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hip lessen before a sharp smack rang out, your ass stinging.

He ran his hand over the spot soothingly. You clenched around him as he landed another blow to the other side and moaned loudly into the mattress. Hongjoong leaned forward, pushing you down against the mattress as he pinned you down with his weight.

He rolled his hips, driving his cock deep into you. You let out a scream of pleasure into the pillows, prompting him to wrap a hand around the front of your neck and pull your head up. “Let me hear that again,” he panted into your ear, rolling his hips once more. You tried to hold back, letting out a strained groan instead.

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Hongjoong said, thrusting into you harshly. A scream ripped from the back of your throat, filling the cabin. “I’ve never made you scream before,” he said as he rolled his hips, enjoying the way you moaned loudly, clenching hard around his cock.

“Have I, Starlight?”

You shook your head, letting out another scream when he thrust into you again. “Does it feel good?” he asked, resuming the same pace from before, pounding into you, keeping a firm hold on you as his hand moved from your throat to cup your chin and jaw.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” he asked again, punctuating his question with another harsh thrust, making you choke on a scream. “When I fuck you like this?” Words failed you as he continued to slam into you, the only sound you could make were moans and the occasional cry of pleasure.

“Feel’s so good,” Hongjoong grunted into your ear. He moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing your head down onto the side as he picked up the pace, slamming into you at a brutal pace, the sound of his hips hitting your ass drowning out your small whimpers and whines. It was rough. Rougher than he’d been before but it felt so good.

He suddenly slowed his pace, rolling his hips slowly to prolong your pleasure. “You still with me, Starlight?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You nodded weakly. Hongjoong pulled back, pulling out of you and carefully rolled you onto your back. He slotted himself between your thighs, slipping back into you and slowly thrusting into you.

“Look at me,” he murmured and you wearily opened your eyes, his smile greeting you. “There’s my girl,” he said, cupping your cheek. His thrusts picked up in speed, angled and precise as he tried to get you back up to the edge.

“Come on darling,” he whispered, thumb brushing over your cheek and down to your lips. “Open up for me,” he added softly. You parted your lips and moaned as he spit into your mouth. He resumed a quicker pace, thrusting into you, each movement making your already weak body bounce.

“You going to cum for me?” he whispered. “Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” he asked. You nodded weakly, whimpering as your orgasm started to build. Hongjoong’s hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbed circles around it quickly.

“That’s it,” he panted, his thrusts growing more erratic and less precise as he tried to get you to fall over the edge first. “That’s it, come on,” he groaned. Your back arched off the bed, your orgasm hitting you in waves, your body shuddering as your thighs shook, a mantra of moans mixed with his name leaving your lips. 

Hongjoong was quick to follow, burying his face in your neck as he let out a low moan, thrusting weakly into you as he came. His hot seed filled you and some of it even started to spill out as his cock continued to twitch until at last, he stopped thrusting.

You both laid there for several minutes, panting and covered in sweat until Hongjoong finally pulled out of and rolled off of you, falling onto the bed next to you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him start to stir and you fell into a deep slumber.

You woke the next morning in a daze. The storm had mostly passed during the night but it was still raining, drops falling softly onto the roof and hitting the glass panes of the windows. You sat up, groggily, and let out a moan of discomfort as a dull ache settled between your thighs.

Looking around, you noticed the cabin was empty. You glanced to the table where the chairs looked like they hadn’t been moved. The floor was clear of water and the basin was sitting in its frame in the corner, the rag hanging on the hook beside it.

You checked the floor and saw your clothes had been moved, folded neatly and sitting on the trunk that sat under the front window of the cabin by the door. Hongjoong’s clothes, and his being for that matter, were nowhere to be seen.

You scratched your head, looking around, wondering if last night had been nothing more than a strange dream. You let out an exasperated sigh and fell back against the bed, staring up at the underside of the roof as you wracked your brain, trying to remember anything other than the feeling of Hongjoong’s weight on top of you or the intense pleasure you were certain you felt last night.

‘What if it was merely a dream?’ you wondered, moving your hand to brush your fingertips over your lips. ‘What if Hongjoong wasn’t here and I just dreamt the entire thing?’ A sadness started welling up in your chest as you lay there, fighting the urge to cry as you remembered what transpired the night before you came to the cabin.

After the fight with your father, you couldn’t go back to the village. But you couldn’t stay here. You sat up and looked around once more, eyes falling on the shelf that covered the hidden panel. “The box,” you whispered. You hadn’t done it last night because of the storm but you could do it today. ‘Yes,’ you said to yourself.

“I’ll get dressed, make a quick breakfast and pack,” you whispered, glancing over to where your clothes sat. “Just the essentials so I can leave this place. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for me.”

Before you could move, another thought hit you and a fresh wave of sadness washed over you. 

‘Yeosang��’

You wondered if you would ever see the priest again but you were almost certain that you would not. Not once you left everything behind to start a new life somewhere far, far away from the village. You would miss aspects of your life near the forest but you couldn’t go back. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

As you started to move, the front door latch turned, opening the door and you looked up, eyes wide as Hongjoong entered the cabin, carrying what looked like a basket. He was dressed, not in the clothes you had dreamt him in last night, but in some clean ones. He lowered his hood and turned, a smile gracing his face as he saw you sitting up in bed.

“You’re awake!” he said, his voice cheerful as he walked over to the table, setting the basket down. He removed his cloak, draping it over the back of one of the chairs and turned, crossing the distance to where you sat on the bed, sheets pulled up to cover your chest as you watched him, wide-eyed.

“I went to fetch some eggs,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I thought some breakfast might be nice,” he added, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “I’ve also got some bacon. We could have that too, if you’d like?” You nodded wordlessly as he spoke. Hongjoong’s smile widened as he leaned in again, kissing you once more.

“Would you like to help me?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours. You nodded again. “Y-yes,” you stuttered, your throat going dry. Hongjoong bumped the tip of his nose against yours and pulled back. “Then get up, Starlight. Put some clothes on.”

He got up and headed back over to the table, leaving you breathless on the bed as your thoughts swirled about in your mind. ‘He’s… alive. So I wasn’t dreaming?’ You sat motionless on the bed, staring at Hongjoong, watching as he bustled about, setting a spider skillet over the fire and letting it heat up.

You moved slowly and carefully, crawling across the bed to grab your clothes from the trunk. Hongjoong used a small amount of what looked to be lard to grease the skillet and looked up as you returned to your spot, sheets still covering your chest as you unfolded your clothes. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“You know you don’t have to hide your body from me,” he said softly, drawing your attention. “I’ve seen everything,” he reminded you as he returned his gaze to the fire and resumed his work. “Multiple times.” Your cheeks burned and you let the sheets drop to your lap, picking your chemise back up and unfolding it. You pulled it on over your head before getting out of the bed.

Hongjoong watched you from where he was perched by the fire, waiting for the skillet to heat up. His eyes followed your every movement as you dressed in silence, pulling your dress on and making sure all the buttons were done up properly before you turned around to face him.

“What can I help with?” you asked, snapping him out of a sort of trance. He looked back at the fire before looking up. “Could you grab the bacon for me?” he asked. “It should be in the barrel over there,” he added, nodding in the direction of a barrel that stood in the front corner of the cabin.

You crossed the distance and pried open the barrel, finding what he was looking for and returned the lid, sealing the barrel before moving over to the hearth. You knelt down, letting out a whine as you reached his level. Hongjoong raised his gaze, a look of concern on his face as you handed him the bacon. “Are you alright, Starlight?” he asked, taking the package in one hand and taking your chin in the other.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Just sore.” A look of realization passed over Hongjoong’s face before a smirk took its place. “I see,” he murmured. “Sorry about that, my love.” He pulled you in for a kiss before pulling away and turning to start placing strips of bacon in the skillet. “You just rest while I cook, alright?” he said, to which you shook your head.

“Really, I’m all right,” you insisted. “I can help you.” Hongjoong smiled as he added another slice of bacon which started to sizzle the moment it touched the hot pan. “If you insist,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You glanced down, noticing his hands and grabbed one, pulling it up to inspect. Hongjoong smiled, watching you turn his hand over and pull the cuff of his sleeve up to inspect his mysteriously clear skin. You were positive the night before his skin was charred, blackened and that it extended up his arms in swirling, vine-like patterns across his torso.

“I was surprised, too,” he admitted. “I woke up and it was gone. All the scorch marks. None of it remained.” You looked up to meet his gaze. “I thought I dreamt last night,” you whispered, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. Hongjoong caressed your cheek. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly. 

“When I woke up, you were gone and the basin had been picked up and your clothes were gone,” you continued. “I thought last night had been some cruel dream, reminding me of what happened last night,” you said, a sob escaping you. Hongjoong pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you. “I’m right here, Starlight,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what happened to me,” he added. “But I’m here and that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest as you clung to him, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt. “I’m not letting you go this time,” you whispered. Hongjoong chuckled, the motion making your body bouncy slightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I don’t intend to go anywhere without you ever again.”

After a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and some bread, you set about helping Hongjoong clear things up. Hongjoong had set the dishes aside to be washed and while you were busy washing them in a pan of hot water and soap, Hongjoong brought the last piece, the spider skillet over now that it was cool to handle.

He stood beside you as you washed, grabbing a rag. “Let me help,” he said, moving to grab the already washed dishes. “That way we can finish quickly and maybe go for a walk or something,” he said with a smile. “Maybe go see the wildflower field?”

You worked mostly in silence except for Hongjoong’s occasional humming until you set aside the last dish which he picked up to dry. “Shall we put these away?” you asked, drying your hands as you turned to look at him. He nodded wordlessly, still humming as the two of you grabbed the now clean dishes to put away.

Hongjoong put them away while you wiped down the table. As you were working, you felt him sneak up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he peppered kisses up the side of your neck, making you giggle.

“That tickles,” you giggled, trying to pull away but he held you firmly in place. You felt his nose brush against the spot just under your ear and heard him breath in deeply. “You smell really, really good,” he murmured. You tried to turn in his hold but he was too strong.

“Hongjoong,” you started but let out a moan the next second as you felt his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. “Makes me want another taste,” he added, pressing you against the table as he grinded against you.

You steadied yourself, pressing your hands against the table and let out another shaky moan as he rolled his hips again. “H-Hongjoong,” you gasped, his hands gripping your skirt tightly as he continued to grind into your backside. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he could draw out your arousal and how easily your body gave in and responded to him.

Hongjoong let out a growl, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat, holding you back against him tightly. “I really can’t wait,” he growled into your ear. “Please, can I take you right here?” You nodded with a whimper, your hands moving to help him pull your skirt up. Once he had it up, his free hand slipped between your thighs, fingertips gathering your wetness and spreading your lips to find your clit.

From this angle, it was a much different experience as his fingers sank into your heat, your walls welcoming the intrusion without hesitation. “Fuck, you’re so warm,” he groaned, pumping his fingers in and out of you with ease as your arousal started to drip down the inside of your thighs. You let out a moan, head dropping as your hands caught you before you fell to the table.

Hongjoong removed his fingers from your cunt, instead moving to untie his pants and push them down just enough to free his cock. He brought the same hand that had been inside you to your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered. You did as he said, spitting into his hand which he then used to coat the shaft of his cock before taking it and aligning the head with your slit, gathering your juices with the tip before pushing into you.

You let out an unrestrained moan as he slid into you, bottoming out rather quickly. He released your throat, gently pushing you down until your chest rested against the table. He hiked the rest of your skirt up, exposing your backside to him as he grabbed your hips and started a slow, steady pace, thrusting into you carefully, watching his cock disappear into you.

Your hands moved, grabbing into the edge of the table as he increased speed, watching your cunt swallow him greedily. The steady pants you’d been releasing soon turned into wanton moans as he rocked into you, each thrust hard and deep.

“F-fuck,” he hissed, leaning forward as he continued his assault on your core, the sound of his skin hitting yours with each powerful thrust. “So fucking good,” he growled. “You take my cock like you were made for it, sweetheart.” You let out a whimper as you felt his nails dig into your skin. “So soft, pliant, and vulnerable,” you heard him whisper. “And entirely mine.”

You cried out as he thrust harder. “Does that feel good?” he cooed, a slight hint of condescension to his voice. You’d never heard him like that before. “You like it when I bend you over and fuck you like this?” he asked. His voice sounded… off. Almost like it wasn’t just him speaking but another voice was speaking with him.

“When I fuck you like a whore?”

You gasped, eyes snapping open and you tried to push yourself up but he stopped you. “What’s the matter, little lamb?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don’t like being called that? You didn’t seem to mind when I called you a bitch in heat,” he continued.

“Or should I call you my whore?” he whispered. “Is that what does it for you? Being possessed?”

Your body succumbed to him, walls fluttering around him as you came with a moan. Hongjoong continued, hips never faltering as he pounded into you. It only took a few more minutes before he finally came with a growl, hips stuttering as he released into you, cum filling your cunt and spilling past his cock to drip to the floor and seep down the inside of your thighs.

You’d never known him to cum that much before. It was almost inhuman. As you both came down from your respective highs, Hongjoong littered kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring praise and apologies for what he’d said in the heat of the moment.

“I’m so sorry, Starlight,” he whispered into your ear. “That was too far.” While you agreed with him, you shook your head. “It’s alright,” you whispered back, not wanting to further upset yourself or the moment. You could always talk to him later about it, knowing he would listen to you no matter what.

After cleaning up again, you assisted Hongjoong with his chores for the rest of the morning, having a quick lunch and then going back to work. 

The meadow would have to wait.

A week passed by and you were surprised that no one came looking for you but in the same vein, you were also glad no one had sought you out. Not because you feared being dragged back but because you feared what might happen to Hongjoong if someone were to learn he was alive again.

You’d tried in vain to persuade him to pack up the cabin and leave. He had said if no one came looking for you after a week, perhaps it was a sign the two of you could live in the forest, undisturbed, and build your life together there.

As your time with Hongjoong increased, so did his sexual appetite. Every morning, as soon as you were both awake, he had his mouth and hands on you, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm before finally sliding into you. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. Each time, he grew more and more rough and sometimes mean but afterwards, he always showered you in affection and attention, apologizing for taking things too far.

While it was certainly a change in personality, it only seemed to be present when you had sex. Otherwise, he was just as normal as ever. He was his usual sweet, doting, cheerful self, making you laugh and kissing your face until you giggled.

You had nothing to compare it to but for the few minutes he was rougher, it was merely a blip in the relationship you had outside of sex. Perhaps this was just one of the changes his brush with death had created.

How wrong you would come to be.

As you woke one morning, more than a week since Hongjoong’s return, you rolled over, reaching for Hongjoong, only to find his spot on the bed empty. Your eyes fluttered open and you half expected to see him standing by the table or crouched by the hearth. He wasn’t in either place. You gathered the sheets and sat up, glancing around the cabin and found no sign of him.

You got up, dressing quickly, and pulled on your boots. Once dressed, you opened the cabin door and peered out into the garden but found it empty except for the goats. You stepped out, letting the door shut behind you as you wandered out, looking around the forest.

You still saw no sign of Hongjoong and decided to check the stream which was where you usually collected water. The forest was alive, sunlight filtering through the trees to dance on the forest floor in patches of light.

Birds chirped and chittered happily as you made your way to the stream, following the path that led from Hongjoong’s place to the stream and beyond, running deeper into the forest. You’d only ever taken this path to the stream but never ventured further so you weren’t sure where it led or what was deeper into the darkest reaches of the forest.

As you neared the stream, noticing the trees thinning out a little, you caught sight of a figure kneeling at the water’s edge and smiled as you recognized Hongjoong’s mess of dark hair. You quickened your pace with a skip and rounded the bend in the path, smile widening as he came into view.

“There you are!” you called, noticing he didn’t even flinch when you spoke. As you drew closer, the sounds of the forest started to wane, birds in trees nearby took flight in squawks that sounded like cries of fear as they flew overhead and away from the area.

You noticed how the forest grew darker, like clouds blotting out the sun and the wind picked up, blowing the hem of your skirt around but still you continued forward. These were merely natural occurrences. The birds probably flew because you walked into the area, twigs breaking under your feet and startling them.

Clouds moved over the sun all the time and the wind often accompanied the movement of clouds. There was nothing sinister or otherworldly about it. You drew closer to Hongjoong, a new determination in your step as you walked over the dirt.

“Hongjoong?” you called, the forest around you now silent except for the wind.

“Stay back,” you heard him say. His voice sounded different again. Not unlike how he sounded the morning after his return but the second, deeper voice, was much… stronger this time. Something was definitely wrong.

“Joong?” you asked, moving even closer. “I said stay back!” he shouted, causing you to freeze momentarily. He really did not sound like his normal self but it only strengthened your resolve to see what was going on and if he was okay.

You ignored his warning as well as the warning in your own gut as you finally reached where he was crouched. “Hongjoong, are you feeling well?” you asked, leaning down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

The moment your hand touched his shoulder, you pulled back, almost as though you’d been burned. He pulled away, turning so you couldn’t see him. “I said stay back,” he repeated. You could barely hear his voice, the deeper voice was more dominant.

You let out a huff and tried again, this time, grabbing him by the shoulder and attempting to turn him to face you. This time, you didn’t feel as though you’d been burned but Hongjoong reacted in a way you weren’t expecting.

He lashed out, throwing his arm back and pushing you to the ground. “LEAVE ME,” he growled, his voice sounding much deeper. Much more… demonic. You gasped as he looked over his shoulder at you. His face had changed. His eyes were no longer the dark, warm brown but instead two different irises full of fire looked back at you, surrounded by black.

Two small horns had poke through the surface of his skin just where his hairline started, the skin around them looked irritated and red, almost like a wound. The black marks that had covered his skin when he first returned were back, hands blackened but now the marks extended up his neck to his face.

You scooted back a couple paces, staring at him in shock and horror. As you stared at one another in the silent forest, you finally took a deep breath and got to your feet, watching as Hongjoong mimicked you, getting to his feet slowly. You took a step forward. 

“Hongjoong?” you asked as he turned to face you fully. He tilted his head to the side with a sickening crack. “Hongjoong?” he repeated in that same devilish voice, almost as if he was taunting you. A shiver ran up your spine but you chose once again to ignore the alarm bell in your own mind. That wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was making sure Hongjoong was okay.

“What happened to you?” you asked, taking another step forward. Hongjoong didn’t move as you continued, stopping a few paces from him and started to circle him, checking over his body to make sure he wasn’t injured. When you had put him between you and the stream, he moved. It was much too quickly for you to see but he turned at once to face you, standing up straight. You jumped and let out a squeak of surprise.

“Are you all—”

You couldn’t finish your question as he quickly had crossed the distance between you and you felt your back hit a tree, forcing a sound of pain from you as he pinned you against it, his hand closing around your throat. This was a huge contrast from the way his hand would go around your throat during sex. He was actually squeezing, cutting off your air supply.

You fought against him, trying to pull his hand away. “Please,” you whispered breathlessly. “I can’t breathe. Hongjoong,” you choked out. When you said his name, it snapped him out of it and he immediately let go of your throat, taking a step back.

You crumbled to the base of the tree, coughing as you reached up to massage your neck. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes had shifted back to normal, the same warm brown but they looked panicked, scared even.

He looked down at his hands, looking at his change in form. The blackened skin, the nails that had sharpened into claws at the tips of his fingers. He looked back up at you. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so…” he trailed off, looking around the forest. “How did I get here?” he asked, his voice soft and full of fear. His gaze returned to you as you stood up, noticing the irritated skin of your neck.

“Oh g— did I do that?” he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. You tried to dismiss his concern, insisting you were fine but he wasn’t hearing it. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and stopping when he felt the small horns on his forehead.

“What is happening to me?” he whispered, fingers gripping his hair as he stumbled backwards, boots splashing in the stream waters. You stepped forward but he held a hand out. “No!” he shouted, his voice normal but echoing around the forest. “Don’t come any closer. You need to leave. I can’t…” he trailed off, eyes falling to your neck again.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his voice full of anguish. Before you could say anything, he turned and took off, much faster than you could see and suddenly, you were standing alone in the forest. You reached up to massage your neck again, wincing at the tenderness.

You had no idea which way Hongjoong had gone or even how far he’d gone so instead of attempting to follow him, you decided to return to the cabin, hoping at some point he’d come back. The walk back seemed to take ages and you were just returning as the sun set and you wondered if maybe you’d wandered aimlessly before finally reaching the cabin because how could you leave in the morning and return so late?

You pushed open the gate and stopped to feed the goats before heading inside, shutting the door behind you. You sat in one of the chairs at the table, staring at the wood in a sort of semi-conscious state before you shook yourself mentally.

You decided to make some tea and wait for Hongjoong to return. If he didn’t return that night, maybe he would come back the next morning. You poured the tea into a mug and let it steep for a while before finally taking a sip, letting out a sigh afterwards.

The sound of distant thunder made you look up, worried that Hongjoong was out in the forest on his own with the threat of a storm looming in the distance. “He’ll be okay,” you whispered to yourself. “He’ll be back and we’ll make up and be okay. It’s going to be fine.”

You weren’t sure how much time passed but you heard the front gate open and turned in your seat as the front door opened. Hongjoong appeared, his appearance had mostly gone back to normal, save for the horns and his hands.

He looked up as he entered, looking shocked to find you sitting at the table.

“Why did you come back?” he asked as he shut the door and moved over to the fire, kneeling to add more logs. You stared at the back of his head, looking incredulous. “Why did I come back?” you repeated his words. “Because I love you! Why wouldn’t I come back?”

Hongjoong winced slightly. “You should have left,” he whispered. You stared at him, appalled that he would even suggest you running away or abandoning him. “And go where?” you asked, attempting to conceal the hurt in your voice.

“Anywhere but here,” Hongjoong replied, his voice sounding flat and lifeless.

You froze, the room growing silent except for the crackling of the fire. After a few moments, you got up and walked over behind him, kneeling down and wrapping your arms around him. Hongjoong didn’t fight it, instead accepted the gesture and gently grabbed your arm, leaning his head into yours that rested on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the fire. “I don’t know either,” you replied. “But we’re going to face it and figure it out,” you continued, turning him to look at you. “Together,” you added. “Why?” Hongjoong asked, eyeing your neck, a fresh wave of sadness and disappointment crossing his face.

“After what I did, why would you stay?”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Because I love you, damn it,” you replied. “I’m not giving up on you. I never did before so why would I now?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered between yours before dipping down to your lips briefly. You leaned in, granting him his silent wish, pressing your lips to his. He leaned into the kiss, wrapping an arm around your back as he laid you down on the floor of the cabin, in front of the fire.

“I love you so much,” you muttered against his lips, pulling back to look at him, your thumb brushing over his lips. He leaned into your touch, eyes shut as he sighed. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, his lips parting yours and tongue slipping past into your mouth. As the kiss grew in passion, his hands started to move, pulling your skirt up.

Under any other circumstance, you would give in easily because you loved it when he made love to you but right now was not the right time. “Hongjoong,” you said as he left a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “Stop.”

He didn’t seem to hear you so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hongjoong, stop it,” you repeated, moving to grab his hands only for him to snatch you by the wrists and pin them down above your head with one hand. He went back to pulling the hem of your skirt up as you fought against him but his strength was shocking and you’d never noticed how strong he had become.

Finally you couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you. “I said stop!”

Your voice snapped him out of it and he immediately pulled away, scooting back as you pulled yourself away, watching as he stood up and turned away from you. “You need to leave,” you heard him say, his voice wavering.

You started to pull yourself up. “Hongjoong?” you called, taking a hesitant step forward, the exchange in the forest earlier coming to mind. “I can’t control it anymore,” he whispered. “What are you saying?” you whispered. “You need to run before I…” Hongjoong trailed off.

You froze as he turned his head slowly, his brown eyes replaced with the same demon-like eyes, fiery red irises shrouded in black. The scorch marks returned to the skin of his neck, extending up onto his face. His lips parted in a devilish grin, exposing his now sharpened teeth.

You backed away, bumping into the table with a dull thud as you shook your head in disbelief. Terror filled your chest as he stared back at you with a taunting gaze. “H-Hongjoong?” you stammered, heart pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body was firing off, hair standing on end as he turned fully to face you.

He’d changed again and something told you that this time, he wouldn’t be reverting back. He took a step forward, still watching you with those unnerving eyes. You were trapped between him and the table, your only form of escape being the door on the other side of the table,

You glanced back at it, finding it unlatched and unlocked. You looked back at Hongjoong, gasping as he seemed to grow in stature with the absence of your gaze. He now towered over you. “Poor little Y/N,” he said, the voice coming out of him not his. There wasn’t even a trace of his voice left. It was whatever had taken control of him.

“All alone in the forest with the big, bad, wolf,” the voice coming from Hongjoong continued.

“You should run,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, as if this was funny to him.

“Run little Lamb,” he continued, narrowing his eyes. “Run.”

He lunged for you and you grabbed the mug of hot tea, splashing it at him and hitting him square in the face. Hongjoong let out an inhuman screech, hands moving to cover his face as he backed away, giving you a chance to round the table and make for the door.

He let out a roar behind you as you opened the door, slamming it shut and rushing for the gate. The goats were bleating in fear as they ran around the garden, chickens clucking and squawking from the coop. You pushed the gate open and ran out onto the forest path.

Knowing it would take too long to follow the path, you started off it, picking up your skirt and jumping over fallen logs and branches as you ran away from the cabin in the direction of the village.

The sound of wood splintering rang out as Hongjoong undoubtedly broke through the door. Another roar rang out, sending chills up your spine as you picked up the pace, not pausing to look behind you. Heavy footfalls sounded behind you and you knew he had given chase.

You hurtled over fallen trees and branches, skipping over boulders as you ran for the edge of the forest, hoping for some reason he might not follow you into the village. It was a long shot but it might be worth it.

Yeosang had spent the last week taking up the task of patrolling the village at night, agreeing to do so after learning you had run away into the forest. He’d been too late to save Hongjoong, reaching the edge of the forest where the men had strung him from the tree branch. It was a sight he could not stomach and had violently gotten sick.

In the aftermath, he had hoped he might be able to save you but when he arrived at your parents’ home and learned of the fight and that you had nearly stabbed your father in what they called a fit of unchecked rage, Yeosang leapt at the chance to keep an eye out for you.

He knew that the mark in the floor from one of your mother’s knitting needles had been your intent. Regardless of the vile acts your father had carried out, he knew you were not capable of killing anyone. Your father was a twisted man but you… you were not. 

You were just hurt, feeling the pain of betrayal as was Yeosang. He felt as if he might as well have been strung up like Hongjoong and had his own life choked out of him for failing in the one task he’d promised to you. He was as much to blame as your father and the rest of the village was. He’d contributed to the breaking of your heart that night, too.

Despite being told numerous times to give up and not expect you to return, like a fool he was still outside, patrolling with a lantern for most of the night, hoping that you might show up so he could tell you how sorry he was. Wishing for one moment to apologize and tell you that you had every right to hate him as he already hated himself.

As he reached the forest during his pacing for what felt like the hundredth time, he heard a sound. Almost like a distant roar. He looked at the sky, watching and waiting for any sign of a storm but saw none. The sky was clear with very few clouds, stars glittering overhead.

He listened for a little longer before deciding it was just his imagination and started to turn away when a scream also rang out from the distance. He turned instantly, wide eyes scanning the trees. It sounded like a female scream.

As he turned back around and watched the forest, he heard the sound of twigs snapping and another scream rang out, this time much closer and clearer. Yeosang took a few steps forward, letting out a soft gasp when a figure emerged from the woods, stumbling over their own feet. As they moved into the light of the many torches that had been set up after you left he realized who it was.

“Y/N?” he called out, rushing forward to meet you. You were sobbing, your dress covered in dirt as you stumbled forward. Yeosang closed the distance, dropping his lantern and you collapsed, managing to catch you at the last second and you erupted into anguished sobs that bordered on wails.

He glanced up, eyes widening as he caught sight of something standing at the edge of the forest. Something tall and dark. It slowly retreated back into the forest until he couldn’t see it anymore.

A nearby door opened and one of the villagers appeared in their night dress. Yeosang looked up. “Go get Y/F/N. And Jonas!” he shouted. “Now!” Yeosang returned his attention to you as more people came out to see what the commotion was. Yeosang gently rocked you, shushing you as you continued to sob heavily.

“What happened?” a voice whispered. “I don’t know. I just came out and they were like this,” another said. “Where did she even come from?”

Yeosang tried to drown out the gossip and turned to one of the women who had come to offer their assistance. “Take her to her father’s house,” he ordered. “I’m going into the forest,” he explained. At this you pulled back, grabbing the front of his coat and shook your head violently. “No!” you shouted. “You can’t! D-don’t go in there! It’s n-not safe!”

Yeosang took your face in his hands and shushed you again, gently. “It’s alright, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m just going to see—” you shook your head, cutting him off with incoherent babbles. Yeosang finally relented, seeing the true fear in your face. “Okay,” he relented as you started to hyperventilate. “I won’t go in. I promise,” he said quickly.

“Here,” he started, carefully getting up. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.” He guided you away from the crowd that had formed and to your parents’ house. The door opened as he approached and the look of anger on your mother’s face vanished instantly upon seeing the state you were in. “I can take her to the church if you would prefer,” Yeosang said softly as your father appeared behind your mother.

“No,” he said, a look of concern crossing his face as they both backed up. “Bring her in here,” he added. Yeosang guided you inside, keeping a firm but steady arm around your back. “What happened?” your father asked as your mother led Yeosang to the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang answered as they started to climb the steps. He followed your mother up to your room leading you in and carefully sitting you down on the bed. “Y/N,” he said calmly, taking your hands in his. “You’re safe,” he said as your mother and father looked on from the doorway. “You’re home and you’re safe.”

Your sobs had subsided into small hiccups as you stared blankly at him, not really seeing him. You had this far off look on your face. Yeosang stood, trying to pull away but your grip on him tightened and a new wave of hysteria washed over you. He quickly knelt in front of you again. “I’m going to step outside the room while your mother helps you change and puts you to bed,” he explained. You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Don’t abandon me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible enough for him to hear. He took your hands again. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m not going to leave. I just can’t be in here while your mother undresses you,” he explained, glancing over at your mother who crossed the room, taking a seat beside you and wrapping an arm around you.

“I will be downstairs,” Yeosang said. “I promise.” Your grip lessened as he stood up and pulled away. Your mother started doting on you as he reached the door and stepped out into the hall with your father, sighing as he shut the door. “What happened?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know,” he replied.

“I don’t have any answers. I was out patrolling when I heard a scream and the next thing I knew, she was sprinting out of the woods and collapsed into my arms as I reached her. She was sobbing, wailing like someone had been murdered right in front of her.”

Yeosang noticed the shift in your father’s body language but he continued on. “She could barely form a sentence. I figured I’d just bring her here and if you didn’t want her back, I’d take her to the church,” he explained. Your father nodded. “I’m not entirely thrilled to have her back after what she did but you were right to bring her here,” your father said softly.

“Her mother and I will keep an eye on her,” he continued as he led Yeosang down the stairs. “I would like to come visit her during the day, if that’s alright,” Yeosang said as they reached the door. Your father hesitated before nodding. “Yes, of course,” he replied. “Thank you Pastor Kang.” Yeosang nodded and reached for the door but as he turned the knob, your father pushed the door shut.

“Since she’s back,” your father started in a hushed tone. “And with everything that’s happened, I don’t think anyone would blame you if you wouldn’t want to marry her now.”

Yeosang’s expression fell, anger bubbling in his stomach and threatening to rise up into his throat. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t think that’s really what is important right now. Presently, I would like to make sure she is safe and looked after. Getting her back to a state of normalcy is the most urgent,” he responded.

Your father, looking very embarrassed, nodded, muttering to himself. “We will discuss this matter another time,” Yeosang added. He gave your father a very curt nod and opened the door, stepping out into the night and heading for the church.

He needed to speak to Jonas and tell him everything. Right now.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since you’d run out of the forest and into Yeosang and despite everyone’s best efforts, you remained in a catatonic state. Your mother struggled to get you to eat or speak. You barely slept at night, instead tossing and turning and being terrorized by nightmares. The day time only offered the relief of it no longer being dark.

Yeosang visited you multiple times each day to check on you. When he was near, you felt safer but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hongjoong came back to the village. Yeosang had placed a few protective charms around your home, especially in your room by the window and over the door.

He was certain that whatever he saw coming out of the forest after you wasn’t human. The fear he saw in your face as well as the way he felt upon seeing the figure confirmed in his mind that something dark and inhuman had been chasing you.

During his visits, Yeosang hoped you might open up and tell him what happened but each day, you refused to talk, lying in a catatonic state. Your mother tried to feed you while he was there and a few times, to save your mother from fighting you, Yeosang took over.

He was patient, sitting by your bedside waiting for any sign that you might be more receptive to food. He found that broth seemed to be the only thing you could stomach, solid foods making you sick and coming back up no matter how they were prepared.

Broth was easy and low energy but even sometimes after drinking it, you would still get sick, throwing up into the pail your mother set by your bedside. Yeosang was always there to help, holding the pail for you or rubbing your back soothingly as you retched.

He could see you growing weaker and weaker by the day and at the end of your first week back, you could barely even walk on your own. Your mother was at her wits end, trying to take care of the house but also of you and it was taking a toll on her.

“She just keeps throwing everything up, I don’t know what to do!” your mother said, nearly in tears as Yeosang sat at the dining table while she made some broth. “She can’t keep just drinking broth. She needs sustenance,” she added. Yeosang grimaced as he watched your mother work. “Ideally, yes,” he answered as he watched your mother pour the brother into a bowl and got up. “But currently, she can’t even keep this down,” he explained, picking up a large cup and taking the bowl before pouring it into the cup.

“How do you expect her to keep down meat and potatoes when she can barely stomach liquids?” he asked, offering a kind smile. “We don’t know what she endured,” he continued. “But throwing up seems to be a trauma response to whatever horrors she faced. We have to be patient.”

After filling the cup with warm broth, Yeosang grabbed his book from the table and started up the steps, having grown rather familiar with your parents’ house by this point. He reached your door and softly knocked on it, calling your name. He turned the knob and peered in to find you lying on your back, pillows propping you up but your eyes were closed.

Or they had been when he opened the door. You must have been roused by the sound and your eyes slowly fluttered open. You looked even more exhausted and weary. “Did I wake you?” Yeosang asked softly. You shook your head.

Yeosang entered your room, shutting the door and walked over to the bed, setting your broth down and checking your pail. It had dried sick in it but not much. ‘Hard to throw anything up when there’s nothing in her stomach,’ he thought to himself. 

“I brought you something to eat,” he said, setting his book down and sitting on the edge of your bed. He leaned forward, resting his hand against your forehead before feeling your cheek. “You don’t have a fever, surprisingly,” he muttered, sitting back and looking down at you.

“You feel like eating?” he asked. You didn’t respond, instead staring at the ceiling. Yeosang reached out, gently caressing your cheek. “I wish you would eat, Y/N. I know it is difficult. That’s why I had your broth put in a cup so you can drink it easier than a bowl.”

He studied your face. “I thought I might read to you, if you’d like that,” he continued. “Maybe I could read to you and you can drink your broth,” he suggested. You still didn’t respond, merely laid there, staring at the ceiling. Yeosang got up and moved to the chair, grabbing his book and taking a seat before he opened the book.

“And don’t worry,” he added with a hint of a smile. “It’s not the bible. I’m trying to help you heal, not torture you.”

Yeosang spent the next couple hours reading to you from the book, checking on you every so often but there was no change. You hadn’t moved, the cup on your bedside remained untouched but he persevered. After reading for a couple hours, he said his goodbyes and left, heading down to the kitchen where your mother was. He left the broth on your bedside table, hoping that you might find the strength to drink it in his absence.

He left your house and went back to the church to report to Jonas who had asked for daily updates on your condition. He wanted to know the moment you were speaking again to get your side of the story as to what happened the day you returned to the village.

Afterwards, he went back to his own home and settled down for the night.

The next day, Yeosang stopped by your place in the morning to check on you. He greeted your mother as he walked in, having been told he could come and go as he pleased as long as he helped you. Yeosang asked if your mother had checked on you this morning and she shook her head. 

“I came right down the stairs to start my daily tasks,” she admitted. Yeosang noticed how exhausted she seemed. “Are you sleeping at night, Mrs. Y/L/N?” he asked, getting to his feet and walking over to check her temperature. “I’m alright,” she said. “No need to fuss over me.”

Yeosang let out a chuckle. “If you want to go and rest, I’ll take care of things here,” he offered. Your mother looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” she said, shaking her head. “I have a husband and a sick child to care for. I can hardly afford to be idle.”

Yeosang watched as she resumed, bustling about. “Then let me take care of Y/N,” Yeosang replied. Your mother turned to look at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “You aren’t asking,” Yeosang said. “I’m offering.”

After staring at him for a moment, your mother finally conceded. “Alright. Can you first go get the cup of broth? I don’t think she drank it and I’m gonna try something different today.” Yeosang smiled and nodded, heading for the stairs and climbing them slowly.

He opened the door and peered into your room. You were lying on your side, eyes closed and you looked like you were finally sleeping. Yeosang quietly entered the room, taking care to move slowly so as to not make much noise. He walked over to the bedside table, checking the pail to find nothing new had been added. He grabbed the cup and lifted it, finding it much lighter than when he set it down.

A smile crossed his face when he found it mainly empty. He glanced at your sleeping form before he started to turn but felt a hand close around his wrist and looked down to see you looking up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, kneeling down and gently stroking your head. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’m just taking this back downstairs.” You blinked sleepily at him before your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a soft sigh.

Yeosang continued stroking your head before he stood up and made his way to the door, checking to make sure you were still asleep before he shut the door and headed down to the kitchen where your mother was checking something cooking in a pot over the hearth.

She turned to look at Yeosang as he entered. “She finished the broth and the pail is empty,” he announced as he walked over to show your mother the empty cup. A look of relief passed over your mother’s face. “Is she awake?” she asked.

Yeosang shook his head. “She was briefly while I was in there, but she’s gone back to sleep so I think it best if we let her rest for now and bring her something to eat later,” he explained, feeling better when your mother nodded in agreement.

Yeosang stayed downstairs, insisting he help your mother around the house in your absence. Initially she refused but Yeosang said he would only tend to your chores just to lessen the burden. He worked diligently and without complaint for a few hours while your food cooked.

As he finished sweeping, your mother called him over. She had made lunch and despite his insistence, she made him sit down and eat before she let him head upstairs with your food. Upon entering your room, Yeosang found you lying on your side, eyes closed but it was clear you’d gotten sick and managed to pull the pail closer.

Rushing over, he set the bowl of food on the bedside and looked into the pail to find whatever you had ingested was now resting in the bottom of the pail. Yeosang sighed softly and grabbed a small rag from his pocket, kneeling down to carefully wipe the rest of the sick from the corner of your mouth and chin.

You started to stir as he finished, your eyes opening weakly. “Here,” he said softly, helping you sit up, rearranging your pillows so you were propped up. He sat on the edge of your bed. “You aren’t keeping anything down,” he said softly, watching as you avoided his gaze. “Hey,” he whispered, taking your hand.

“I’m not upset,” he started, feeling relieved when you looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m worried, Y/N. You aren’t eating, you’re barely sleeping, and you won’t speak. I thought we had made progress when you finished the broth but maybe it was too much for your stomach. Maybe you need smaller portions,” he mumbled.

You said nothing but you didn’t need to. “I’ll be right back,” he said, grabbing the bowl, and headed for the door. He rushed back downstairs, setting the bowl on the table, taking in your mother’s concerned face. “Did she get sick again?” she asked, mumbling a curse when Yeosang nodded. “Do you have any more of that broth?” he asked.

She nodded and got up. “Give me just a small cup of it. I think the portions are too big. She needs to eat smaller and then we can work her up.” With the broth in hand, Yeosang headed back upstairs and entered your room, giving you a smile as he walked over and set the cup on the bedside. “Take your time with it. If it takes you all day to eat it, that’s okay. Just sip it for now,” he explained as he grabbed the chair and moved it closer.

“Would you like me to read to you?” he asked. This time, instead of staring at him or the ceiling, you nodded. It was such a subtle movement but Yeosang, who had grown accustomed to you and was aware of even the slightest change, noticed.

He pulled out his book and resumed where he’d left off, reading a few chapters to you.

As he finished the third one, he looked up to find you fast asleep. He checked the cup and saw you had finished about half the broth and smiled as he got up, heading for the door and shutting it softly behind him.

It was progress but he would have to check in the morning to make sure you didn’t get sick in the middle of the night or in the morning. Yeosang left the house, bidding your parents farewell before heading home. 

The next day, when Yeosang came to check on you, your mother excitedly told him you had finished the rest of your broth and had not gotten sick in the night nor in the morning. Relief passed over them at the prospect that you might have been able to keep down the broth.

After helping with the morning chores, Yeosang headed up to your bedroom with your broth and a new book in addition to the one he’d been reading to you. He spent a few hours reading to you as you sipped on your broth until you fell asleep.

The next couple days went by the same. Yeosang had just spent the last few hours reading to you and lost track of time. Your parents invited him to stay for dinner and afterwards, he was on his way out, night having fallen already. 

As he walked, he heard a twig snapped and looked around, taking note of a young woman in a cloak walking towards the woods. He turned, watching her with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Before her was a black ram which would walk a short distance before stopping and turning to look at her. Once she caught up, the ram would repeat the process.

Yeosang watched the scene unfold silently and when the woman disappeared into the shadows of the forest, he followed, stopping at the edge of the forest and peering around a tree to see the woman had only gone in so far that she wouldn’t be immediately spotted. She removed her cloak, revealing herself to be entirely nude underneath.

The ram turned and Yeosang watched with wide eyes as the animal shifted into a tall dark figure and held out a hand which the woman took. The figure guided her down onto the forest floor and Yeosang pulled back and turned away to avoid witnessing any more.

He hurried to the church instead of his home and opened it, climbing the stairs in the back hall to Jonas’ room where he knocked urgently. After a moment, the door opened and a very tired looking Jonas appeared. “Pastor Kang?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

Yeosang, who had all but run to the church, launched into an explanation of what he’d seen. Once he was done, Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like we may have a demon lurking in the woods,” he said softly. “And what are we going to do about it?” Yeosang asked when Jonas didn’t elaborate further.

The elder minister looked up at him. “Oh, I’ll prepare some new protective charms and we’ll put them up around the village. That should help ward off the evil,” he said, nodding again. “If you’ll excuse me,” Jonas said. “I was in the middle of my prayers. Good evening, Pastor Kang.”

Yeosang bowed his head as Jonas closed the door and headed back down the steps and out of the church. Once he was back on flat ground, he glanced towards the forest as a chilly wind swept through the village. If Jonas was going to up the protective measures on the village, Yeosang would have to up them on your home.

The moon that should have been overhead was hidden by the clouds that had rolled in just after the sun had set beyond the horizon, blocking out the stars as well. The chill in the air would normally have deterred anyone from leaving their home but Yeosang was determined to catch a glimpse of that dark figure he’d seen twice now.

The oil in his lamp was getting low as he continued to walk around the village. He’d made three passes already around the perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on the edge of the forest. He knew he was being ridiculous but Yeosang was determined to figure out this mystery. He had his suspicions but he would not lay blame until he knew everything.

As he neared your parents’ home, he wondered how you had been fairing the last few days. He and Jonas had been busy placing protective ornaments around the village, over the front doors of each home. He’d made more to hang in your room and delivered them to your parents who promised to put them up for him.

As he turned away from the forest, something caught his eye, a shadow darker than the rest moving through the trees. Yeosang raised the lantern in his hand, hoping to extend the reach of the light but it didn’t seem to help. The shadow only disappeared. Yeosang followed, walking down to the edge of the forest and following it past the last house until he was at the corner of the clearing.

He scanned the tree line but saw nothing and decided to follow it behind the houses. As he reached the section of trees behind your home, he peered into the trees, squinting as if it would help him see through the darkness better.

There was a scraping behind him and he turned to face the backside of your house. As he scanned the building, his eyes focused on a dark shadow near the window at the top. He raised his lantern and let out a small gasp.

A dark figure was crawling up the wall, peering into your window. It extended a clawed hand towards the window and attempted to open it but Yeosang called up to the figure. “Who is that?” he asked. The figure froze, head whipping around.

Yeosang stumbled backwards as it glared at him with fiery red eyes. His foot hit a small stone and he nearly fell, regaining his balance and stood back up, looking around the house for any sign of the figure but it was nowhere to be seen.

Yeosang hurried around to the front of your house, still finding no sign of the figure and sighed. He would have to inform Jonas in the morning of what he had seen. He started heading back towards his home, checking the rest of the houses along the way.

The following morning, Yeosang entered the church to report his findings to Jonas who made note of them. As they were speaking, a scream rang out from the direction of the forest. Yeosang followed Jonas out of the church as a crowd started to gather.

“Get back!” a voice yelled. Yeosang and Jonas pushed their way to the front to find a gruesome scene unfolding before them. A body had been pulled out of the well and was currently being cradled by a woman who was wailing as he clung to the lifeless body.

The person who had yelled was Abel. He was trying to shield his wife, Prudence, from view. Yeosang approached, placing a calm hand on his shoulder before moving past him and kneeling beside his wife. She was sobbing uncontrollably and when Yeosang leaned down to look, he saw Judith’s face, pale and colorless. He sat back up as Jonas kneeled beside him.

“It’s Judith,” Yeosang whispered to the elder minister. Jonas glanced at him before turning his gaze back to the body. “I will handle the crowd, you tend to her,” he said softly, nodding at Prudence and standing up.

Yeosang placed a hand on Prudence’s back. “Let’s get her inside,” he said softly in a calm and kind voice. He removed his cloak, using it to shield Judith’s body from view and guided Judith’s mother to stand before he carefully picked up Judith’s corpse and followed Prudence into the house while Jonas spoke to the crowd that had gathered.

Yeosang followed Prudence to the kitchen where she cleared the dining table and Yeosang carefully set Judith down. “Would you be so kind as to fetch the village doctor,” Yeosang asked Prudence and Abel’s eldest child, Michael. He nodded and hurried out of the house.

Yeosang guided Prudence to the living room and sat her down, kneeling before her. “Tell me everything,” he said softly.

Between sobs, Prudence managed to tell him how Abel had gone to the well to fetch some water and that pulling the bucket up was proving to be a chore indeed. He asked for help and as he and two other men retrieved the bucket, they pulled up Judith’s body.

Yeosang’s heart sank as he turned to look through the doorway into the kitchen where Judith’s corpse lay, covered by his cloak. The door behind him opened and Michael returned with the doctor in tow, Abel and Jonas following close behind.

Yeosang got to his feet, gesturing for Michael to sit with his mother as Jonas instructed Abel to sit while the two priests followed the doctor into the kitchen. Yeosang pulled his cloak back and resisted the urge to gasp as he finally got a good look at Judith.

Her eyes were closed, as if she had been asleep. Other than the color being drained from her skin and due to her wet hair and clothes, she looked like she might have fallen in and drowned if it hadn’t been from the rip in her dress and the hole in her chest.

“Have you ever seen anything like this before, Doctor?” Jonas whispered. The doctor, Jones, had a look of shock on his face. It was clear to Yeosang he had, in fact, not seen anything like it before. “It looks as if…” he started, glancing towards the doorway before lowering his voice.

“As if her chest has been ripped open.”

Yeosang looked up from Judith’s face to the doctor. “Ripped open?” he repeated softly. “What kind of creature could do this?” Yeosang asked, keeping his voice low. The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Perhaps a bear or some kind of large cat—”

“There are no other marks on her,” Yeosang countered angrily. Jonas held his hand up. “Keep your voice down, Pastor Kang,” he said calmly. Yeosang took a step back, lowering his gaze. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”

Jonas leaned forward, peering into the gaping wound in Judith’s chest before standing back up and turning to the doctor. “Her heart seems to be missing,” he said softly. Yeosang looked up as Jones leaned forward to inspect as well, letting out a soft prayer.

“Can you close the wound?” Jonas asked, drawing both Yeosang and Jones’ attention. “I…” Jones turned to look at Yeosang but the younger minister said nothing, offering no help. “I can try. Bring her to my office. I’ll conduct my work there.”

Jonas nodded and left the kitchen to ask the family for a sheet or blanket to cover Judith so she can be moved. Abel and Michael tried to protest but Jonas insisted, so the doctor can close the hole in her chest, offer her some dignity.

Once a bed sheet had been retrieved, Michael and Abel carried Judith’s body over to Jones’ home so he could stitch the wound closed and Yeosang left the house in a daze. Had this been the work of the figure he’d seen last night? What was it? Some sort of demon?

Jonas called for a meeting of just the adults, leaving the children and young unmarried adults at home while he finally broke the news of Judith’s death and the manner in which her body was found. He also revealed that the culprit might possibly be a demon that was summoned no doubt after Hongjoong’s hasty execution.

“What does that mean?” Nicolas asked from his seat in the back of the church. “It means nothing,” Jonas answered. “Only that we must be vigilant and keep a watchful eye. Pastor Kang and I will fashion more protective charms and deliver them door to door so you may protect your homes from the demon.”

After the meeting, Yeosang was kept busy, fashioning more charms to have Jonas bless so they could give them to the villagers. Yeosang had already given your parents’ some of his own making so he saw no reason to make anymore for your family.

Once he had finished this task, he went by your parents’ home, apologizing for not visiting sooner. He helped your mother around the house and took your meal up to you. He was more than pleased to see you were starting to regain your strength and that you were eating actual food now. He spent a couple hours reading to you while you ate before he had to leave again.

The next two nights, the charms did not seem to work as two more women were killed. Sara’s body was found at the edge of the forest, strangled and Charity’s body was found just outside the pig’s pen while her head was found in the chicken coop. 

Sensing that they would most likely require help, Yeosang spoke to Jonas about sending out word to neighboring villages to ask for help. Jonas agreed and helped Yeosang write the letters and send them out. 

All they had to do now was wait.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since Yeosang sent out the letters and he was back out, patrolling at night. He and a few of the other villagers had agreed to take turns patrolling at night to keep an eye on the village and it was Yeosang’s turn. 

He was passing in front of the church when he heard the snap of a twig and turned his head to look between the church and the house next to it. “Is someone there?” he asked, his voice slightly raised. He waited for a response but when he got none, he was about to continue on until another snap and sound of footsteps.

He hesitated, staring into the dark until he remembered the dark figure he’d seen trying to get into your house and continued forward, one foot in front of the other as he walked between the buildings. As he reached the back, he peered around, seeing nothing standing out in the dark. He turned to look behind the house and saw nothing. As he turned to make his way back, he felt a hand grab him and his back slammed against the outside wall of the outhouse.

He tried to pull the hand off him but it proved to be too strong. The lantern fell and Yeosang looked up to find the same black fiery eyes looking back at him. The dark figure he’d seen outside your house.

“What do you want?” Yeosang choked out, grabbing at the hand around his throat. He watched as the blackened skin of the figure melted away, eyes wide in both shock and disbelief as the familiar face of Hongjoong appeared before him.

“It cannot be,” he whispered. Hongjoong smiled at him before letting go of Yeosang’s throat and took a step back. Yeosang fell to his knees, massaging his neck and coughing before he looked up at Hongjoong. “How?” was all he asked.

“How? How what?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head. Yeosang was able to get a much better look at him now. All the blackened skin had melted away and Hongjoong as he had been before his death stood before him. His eyes were the same fiery red irises, surrounded by black and two small, black horns protruding through the skin of his forehead.

“How are you here?” Yeosang asked, looking up at Hongjoong as he stood motionless in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall behind him. “How did you come back?” Hongjoong let out a scoff.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, glaring at Yeosang. “No,” Yeosang said softly. “I guess it doesn’t. But what do you want? Why did you kill those women?” Hongjoong stared at Yeosang wordlessly for a moment before speaking.

“I’m just returning the favor to my murderers,” he replied. “I’m taking their futures away just as mine was ripped away from me.” Yeosang got up slowly, grabbing his lantern. “An eye for an eye will make the world blind,” he said, to which Hongjoong burst into laughter.

“Were you always this boring?” he asked. Yeosang frowned as he looked at Hongjoong. “Does this plan for retribution include Y/N?” he asked, taking note of the way Hongjoong tensed up, his smile falling. “Her father led the charge after all.”

Hongjoong uncrossed his arms and stalked forward, closing the distance between them. “Why wouldn’t it?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dangerously low. “Her father is just as guilty as the others. I’ll take his future from him, too.”

Yeosang resisted the urge to protest, instead taking a deep breath despite the pounding of his own heart and shaky breathing. This was the closest to hell he’d ever come and never want to do it again.

“What about your feelings for Y/N?” Yeosang asked softly. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes as he studied Yeosang’s face. Whatever he was expecting Hongjoong to say, it wasn’t what came out of his mouth next.

“What feelings?” 

Yeosang felt his heart sink as he looked at Hongjoong’s stoic expression. 

“You…” Yeosang’s words failed him. How could he just forget everything like that? After everything you’d been through to be together, the plans you both made, how could Hongjoong just toss it away like that? It made Yeosang so… angry. ‘How dare he?!’

“You and Y/N,” he started. “You loved her. You were so in love with her. How do you not still feel that way?” Yeosang demanded, his anger bubbling to the surface. Hongjoong studied him carefully, tilting his head from side to side before a smirk settled on his lips.

“Oh I see,” he said, taking a step forward. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Yeosang took a step back, staring wide-eyed at Hongjoong. “W-what?” he whispered. “Of course not! I would never do that to Hongj—”

“How noble of you,” Hongjoong snapped. “Putting aside your feelings so the outsider that lives in the woods could have a chance at love.” Yeosang took note of the change in Hongjoong’s voice. It was deeper and it sounded like more than one person was talking at once.

It sounded… inhuman.

“Poor Pastor Kang. So young and lonely,” he continued, stalking forward as Yeosang backed away. “In love with a woman who would never love him back. How pathetic.” 

Each word was like a stab in the chest. He had never truly considered Hongjoong his friend and he knew Hongjoong never considered him a friend either but he had always respected Hongjoong. “Stop it,” Yeosang said as his back pressed against a tree.

“Regardless of what this mortal once felt for the human girl, she will die,” Hongjoong continued, the inhuman voice speaking through him. “I will get retribution and I will kill her.” Hongjoong started as he started to turn away. “And if you get in my way,” he continued before hesitating to look back.

“I’ll kill you too.”

Yeosang watched as he disappeared into the shadows of the house and from view. The sound returned to the night, crickets chirping loudly from the grass, an owl hooted in the distance and Yeosang snapped out of his horrific trance.

If it hadn’t been clear before, it was now; Hongjoong had returned but something else had come back with him. Only one question remained for Yeosang to answer.

Who had come back with him?

Loud banging at the door woke Yeosang with a start and he sat up with a gasp. He looked around in a sleepy daze as the loud knocks continued. He pulled back the sheets and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on as he stumbled through the house to the door.

He pulled it open, blinking in the bright light of the day. 

“It’s Y/N!” your father said, a look of fear on his face. “Something is wrong!”

Yeosang snapped out of his daze and moved to grab his coat, pulling on his boots and dressing in a hurry. He followed your father across the village to your house. As he entered, he could hear a commotion coming from upstairs.

 Yeosang pushed past your father and headed up the stairs quickly. Your bedroom door was open, your mother sitting on your bed, helping you sit up and holding the pail as you retched violently. “I don’t know what happened!” your mother said tearfully as Yeosang crossed the room.

“How long has she been like this?” Yeosang asked, looking at your mother as you vomited into the pail. “I don’t know! I came in to check on her and she was moaning in pain. Her pillow was drenched in sweat and she was warm to the touch. She started throwing up but she hasn’t stopped,” your mother explained quickly as Yeosang knelt down, lifting your face.

All the color had left you, your skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and it was clear you were weak. “What’s wrong with her, Pastor Kang?” your father asked. Yeosang turned to look at him before looking at your mother. He finally looked at you as you retched again, a loud gagging sound coming from your throat.

“I can’t be certain,” Yeosang said. “What has she eaten recently?” he asked. “Just meat and potatoes, the same I have been giving her since she was able to keep food down,” your mother answered. You retched again, throwing up into the pail. Yeosang glanced down and noticed red swirling in your sick.

He looked up slowly at your mother. “Fetch the doctor,” Yeosang said softly. Your father stepped into the room. “What?” he asked. Before Yeosang could answer, you vomited again only instead of stomach contents, it was nothing but blood.

Your mother let out a wail as Yeosang turned to your father. “Call for the doctor!”

Your father stumbled out of the room and headed down the stairs as Yeosang stood up, removing his coat. “Has she been drinking anything?” Yeosang asked as he rolled up his sleeves. “Just cider,” your mother answered. “Where did the potatoes and meat come from?” Yeosang asked as he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“She’s growing cold,” he murmured. “Just from our reserves. The potatoes were harvested from our vegetable garden!” your mother answered as Yeosang took the pail from her, moving to the window to toss the contents out and move back to the bed.

“Do you have anything in the house that hasn’t come from outside?” he asked, looking up at your mother. “I have some bread from the neighbor. And some bone broth she made. I was getting low.” Yeosang guided your mother to her feet. “Heat up the broth. Do not take your eyes off it,” he instructed. “I will stay here with her.”

Your mother hesitated, looking at your sickly form. “Go!” he snapped. “The more time you waste, the worse she will get! I think she’s been poisoned.” At that, your mother hurried out of the room and he could hear her footsteps rush down the stairs.

Yeosang climbed onto your bed, settling next to you as he helped you sit up. He set the pail on the bed and grabbed the rag from your bedside, using it to wipe the blood from your chin. “He can’t enter your home,” he muttered to himself. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t poison your food.”

You let out a small sob and Yeosang felt his heart break. “It’s going to be alright,” he said softly. “Just stay with me, Y/N.” A fresh wave of nausea took over and you vomited violently into the pail, more blood. Yeosang wiped your face once more as heavy footsteps climbed the stairs. He looked up as Jones and your father entered the room.

“She’s vomiting blood,” Yeosang quickly explained. “I think she’s been poisoned.” He could see the expression on your father’s face change from confusion to anger. “Are you accusing us of—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything!” Yeosang snapped as Jones moved to start his examination. “Your food must have been tainted before coming into the home. The demon could have poisoned your food before you brought it in,” he continued, addressing your father.

“Then why aren’t we sick?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head. “I do not know. I can’t offer any explanation.” Jones felt the sides of your neck, massaging before looking up at Yeosang and then to your father. “Is she allergic to anything?” he asked.

Your father stared at him. “Allergic? I don’t think so…” he trailed off. Jones murmured to himself. “I’ll need charcoal then,” he said, looking up at your father. “Charcoal?” your father asked. Yeosang was starting to grow tired of all the questions. “Whatever for?”

Jones turned to your father. “Do you want me to save her or not?” he asked, exasperatedly. Your father gulped and exited the room as another wave of nausea took over, causing you to vomit into the pail. Yeosang helped you lie back, wiping your face.

“Do you know if she’s allergic to anything?” Jones asked. Yeosang shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. She never mentioned anything.” Jones nodded as your father returned, fingers smeared with black as he held a few pieces of charcoal in his hand.

“Ahh, thank you,” Jones said, taking the pieces. “Were these outside?” Yeosang asked, looking up at your father who shook his head. “No,” he answered. “They were in the pantry.” Jones looked around. “Oh, do you have a mortar and pestle?” he asked. Your father disappeared for a few moments before returning with the item. 

Yeosang watched as the doctor ground up the charcoal for a few moments before turning. “Sit her up, please.” Yeosang did as asked, pulling you up and allowing your back to rest against his chest. “Open her mouth.” Yeosang did as instructed, holding your mouth open as Jones mixed the charcoal into a flask of liquid. 

“What is that?” Yeosang asked. “Wine,” Jones answered. “It’s from my home. It’s safe,” he added, noticing Yeosang’s expression. “Tilt her head back slightly, yes like that. Good,” he said. “She might fight this but it’s important she swallows it. If anything is in her system, this should flush it out.”

Yeosang nodded and kept one arm firmly around your chest as Jones tipped the glass, allowing the concoction to spill into your open mouth. He used his free hand to massage the front of your neck, forcing you to swallow. As soon as he went to pour more into your mouth, you gagged, struggling against Yeosang’s grip. 

“Hold her!” Jones said. Your father watched in horror from the doorway as Yeosang and Jones managed to get you under control and force you to drink the rest of the mixture. “She will start vomiting again,” Jones said breathlessly as he replaced the lid on the glass flask and you slumped back against Yeosang.

“It may get dirty, bloody even, but it is vital you let the antidote run its course,” Jones explained. The next moment, your body started convulsing and Yeosang grabbed the pail just as you sat up, grabbing the pail from him and vomiting into it. It looked horrid and smelled even worse.

Your father gagged and stepped out as you continued to retch, vomiting into the pail everything in your stomach. Yeosang eyed the contents, seeing nothing but black goo. After several minutes of this, you seemed to have run out of things in your stomach to throw up.

There was a strange gagging sound from your throat almost as if you were choking. “Something’s lodged in her throat,” Jones said, stepping forward but Yeosang was quicker. He gave you one solid thump on the back and whatever was stuck in your throat was forced out, hitting the inside side of the pail and falling into the black goo.

You let out an exhausted huff and slumped back against Yeosang once more, hands falling limp. Jones took the pail carefully. “I think the worst is past,” he said as he looked at your exhausted form. “I’ll fetch some water to clean her face,” he added. He walked out of the room, carrying the pail and Yeosang heard his footsteps wane as he descended the steps.

Grabbing the bloodstained rag, Yeosang attempted to wipe your face but wasn’t able to make much progress. Moments later, your mother appeared, carrying a small basin with water and handed Yeosang a clean rag before setting the water on the bed.

“Will she be alright?” your mother whispered as Yeosang dipped the rag in the water and started to clean your face, chin, mouth, and even neck. “I don’t know,” Yeosang answered truthfully. “I think Jones has done all he can. Now we must wait.”

Your mother nodded and headed for the door. “Could you bring that broth?” Yeosang asked, looking up from your sleeping expression. “I’d like to try and get something into her stomach as soon as allowed.” Your mother nodded and left the room.

Once Yeosang was satisfied you were cleaned, he leaned back against the pillows, letting you rest against his chest as he listened to the sound of your shallow breathing. He felt your forehead and while you were still clammy, he could have sworn he felt some warmth to your skin.

Hours passed, your mother finally returning with the broth as well as a bowl of something for Yeosang. “I’m sure you didn’t have time to eat before you came here. It’s just porridge,” she explained. Yeosang offered a smile, thanking her before turning his attention back to you.

Some time passed before Jones returned with your father. “I checked the pail,” Jones explained. “There was something in it.” Yeosang looked from the doctor to your father and back. “And what did you find?” he asked.

Jones stepped forward, presenting an item he no doubt washed thoroughly before handling it. It was a pendant. One Yeosang recognized. Before he could say anything, your father spoke. “It belonged to… him.” Yeosang looked up at him, realization setting in. He glanced back down at the pendant, staring up at him.

Just as he surmised, it had belonged to Hongjoong. But what was it doing in Y/N’s stomach and more importantly how did it get there?

Jones gave you one last examination and determined that only time would tell if he’d administered the antidote in time if it had even been poison to begin with. Yeosang and your father thanked the doctor and Yeosang remained behind while your father walked him out.

Yeosang ate the porridge your mother had brought him but as soon as he was done, he turned his attention back to you. “I know you don’t share the same faith as me,” he whispered. “But I’d like to pray for you, if you’ll let me?”

He’d been holding your hand in his and when your hand tightened, fingers lacing with his, Yeosang took that as you giving him your permission. He closed his eyes, silently praying to whatever god was listening that you would make it through this.

Yeosang stayed the rest of the day with you, refusing to leave your side. He was gently shaken awake by your mother. “Night has fallen,” your mother whispered, holding a candle. “You should sleep in your own bed. Come back in the morning,” she said. Yeosang shook his head. 

“No,” he answered. “I’ll stay here if that’s alright. I’ve been praying over her,” he added. “I must have fallen asleep. I’ll stay.” Your mother looked taken aback but when she noticed how peacefully you were sleeping in his arms, she relented. “Of course,” your mother replied, setting the candle down on the bedside table.

“Good night then, Pastor Kang,” she said as she walked to the door. “Good night,” Yeosang replied as the door shut, leaving you two alone in the dim light of the flame. “Now, where was I?” Yeosang murmured as he tried to trace his mental footsteps only to give up after a moment to start his prayer all over.

You slept through most of the next day, only getting sick once to cough up what was left of the charcoal and wine in your system. Yeosang managed to get you to sip a little of the broth and continued to recite the same prayer over and over.

Your father stayed out of the room, leaving your mother the only one to willingly enter. “He believes this is all his fault,” your mother said as he sat on the chair beside your bed, doing some mending while Yeosang listened to her.

You were fast asleep in his arms, your breathing had evened out and your sweat had lessened. Instead of being cold, you were starting to grow warm again, like life was seeping back into your body. Holding you like this, so close, made Yeosang feel even more protective over you.

He looked up, looking towards your mother who kept her eyes on her sewing. He was tempted to say that your father was indeed responsible for all of this but he bit his tongue, not wanting to open that jar. ‘All in time,’ he told himself.

Your mother looked up from her sewing and lowered her hands. “Could I ask you something, Pastor Kang?” she asked, drawing his attention. “Hm?” Yeosang hummed. Your mother hesitated, glancing at your sleeping face before speaking in a low voice.

“Do you love her?”

Yeosang hesitated, not because he didn’t know the answer. The truth was he did love you. As a friend, but also as more. He hadn’t found the time to confess to you but when he learned about you and Hongjoong, he knew he stood no chance, not when he saw the stolen glances between you when Hongjoong visited the village on occasion.

He knew you would never look at him that way and he was fine with that. He respected your choices. But love you he did. He showed it in his own way. When he warned you about the rumors and made you promise to stay out of the forest, when he shielded you from seeing or hearing things that might upset you, or when he agreed to marry you so he could push it back and free Hongjoong. He wanted your happiness above everything else, even if it cost him everything.

Yeosang looked up as your mother’s expectant and waiting face. He could be honest now, right? Hongjoong was gone, for all intents and purposes and what remained was no longer him. It couldn’t be. He died. Then why did Yeosang feel like telling the truth would feel like betraying Hongjoong or rather, the memory of him?

It felt selfish, that Hongjoong should lose everything and Yeosang could gain everything. It was life’s cruel trick, that he could stand to gain the love of his life but at the loss of hers.

He looked back down at your sleeping expression. Was it selfish when Hongjoong would never be able to fulfill the promises he had made you in life but Yeosang could offer you any and everything you wanted? If you wanted to leave the village and start a new life, Yeosang would give up everything he owned for your dream because he was willing to make that sacrifice for you. After all, isn’t that what love was? A series of compromises and self sacrifices?

Yeosang smiled to himself, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek. If it was selfish to do everything in his power to make you happy, then he would just have to be selfish.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I do.”

The third day passed in the same fashion as the second. Yeosang spent a better part of the day praying, stopping only to eat and to feed you should you wake up. Your mother left the two of you alone and your father left the house early, not to return until dinner time.

Yeosang had just finished eating and was about to return to prayer when he looked down and saw your eyes looking up at him. He set his bowl aside and sat up, carefully helping you into a sitting position. “You’re awake,” he said softly. You reached up, cupping his cheek.

“Yeosang,” you said, your voice hoarse. He felt as if the world around him stopped upon hearing you speak finally. “Y/N,” he said with a laugh. “Y/M/N!” Yeosang called to the open door. “She’s awake!”

There were hurried footsteps and your mother appeared in the doorway, relief passing over her. “Oh Y/N,” she said, crossing the room and grabbing the chair to pull closer. “Hi, mama,” you said softly. Your mother’s lips parted in shock as you took one of your hands in both of hers and let out a soft cry, bowing her head.

“I’ll fetch Jones,” Yeosang started, moving to get up but you grabbed his arm. “No,” you whispered. “Don’t go.” Your mother smiled, letting go of your hand. “I will go. Stay with her,” your mother said as she got up and hurried out of the room.

Yeosang turned to look at you, a relieved smile on his face. “You have no idea how worried we were,” he started. You looked down from his face to your hand, moving it from his arm to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You stayed with me, didn’t you?” you asked in a scratchy voice. Yeosang cleared his throat, looking at your joined hands.

“I did,” he answered. “I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

You looked back up at him and his breath caught in his throat. He could see the look in your eyes, it was one he’d only ever seen you give Hongjoong before. Something akin to adoration. It only lasted for a moment before footsteps interrupted the moment.

Your mother returned with the doctor and your father in tow.

“Okay, everyone out,” Jones instructed. “I need to examine my patient!” You turned to Yeosang who gave you a reassuring nod. “I will be back as soon as he’s done,” he said softly. “I need to go speak with Jonas and inform him of your condition.”

Yeosang grabbed his coat and headed down the steps with your mother and father. He pulled the coat on as your parents sat at the table. “I will return with Jonas,” Yeosang explained. “He asked me to inform him the moment Y/N woke up.” 

Yeosang exited the house, making his way to the church where he found Jonas tending to things in the office. “Pastor Kang,” Jonas said as Yeosang entered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Y/N is awake,” Yeosang explained quickly. “And more importantly,” he continued. 

“She is speaking.”

Jonas accompanied Yeosang back to your parents’ house and the two waited downstairs for Jones to give you the all clear. The doctor returned to the kitchen moments later and gave the priests permission to enter before he informed your parents of your condition.

Yeosang led the way up the stairs to your room, knocking gently before waiting for your soft voice to call out a simple come in. Yeosang opened the door, peering in to find you sitting upright, looking exhausted but better than you had in weeks.

You watched as Yeosang entered, eyes widening as Jonas also entered. Yeosang moved to your bedside, grabbing the chair and setting it a comfortable distance from your bed. He offered it to Jonas who held up his hand as he stood by the door that was now shut. “You take it,” he said to the younger priest. “She’s much more comfortable with you.”

Yeosang glanced at you before taking a seat. You looked from Yeosang to Jonas nervously. “Pretend I am not here, child,” Jonas said with a smile. “I’m merely here to listen to your testimony.” You turned your gaze to Yeosang. “We need you to tell us what happened,” Yeosang started. “After you ran away from the village in the aftermath of—”

“Hongjoong’s death,” you finished, surprising both Yeosang and Jonas. “I’ll try,” you said softly, reaching for a glass on the bedside table. Yeosang grabbed it and handed it to you. “Doctor Jones gave this to me. It’s water mixed with some sort of mineral. It’s supposed to help me regain my strength.” Yeosang smiled as you took a couple sips and took the glass from you, setting it back down.

“Where to begin,” you said softly. “From the beginning,” Yeosang encouraged. You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting your story.

“After my father told me what had transpired, I knew I couldn’t stay. I ran away from home and into the woods,” you started. “Where did you go?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention. “To the cabin,” you answered. “Hongjoong’s cabin?” Yeosang asked, taking a deep breath when you nodded.

“I figured I would spend the night and in the morning, gather what I could and leave the village.” Your words sent a short pang through Yeosang. You had still planned to leave without Hongjoong but he could understand why. You continued, telling them about the knocking and the storm. “And then…” you trailed off.

“Then what?” Jonas asked. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “He was outside the cabin,” you whispered, turning your gaze to Yeosang. “Who?” Jonas asked. “Hongjoong,” you answered. “He was covered in dirt and blood and in this trance but when I called his name, he snapped out of it. He came into the cabin and I couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be dead.”

“But there he was, standing in front of me. He told me what he remembered happened. Something about brimstone and fire and darkness. I can’t remember all the details but to me it sounded like he was describing—”

“Hell,” Yeosang whispered. You nodded, eyes meeting his. “Then what happened?” You swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. “Then I tried to clean his skin but the dirt wasn’t coming off and it was then I realized it wasn’t dirt. It was like his skin was charred. Burned.”

“Fascinating,” Jonas whispered. Yeosang turned to look at Jonas, finding his interest and choice of words odd. You cleared your throat. “And then what happened?” Jonas asked. You hesitated, looking at him before looking at Yeosang, looking uncomfortable.

“What happened?” Yeosang asked. “We…” you trailed off, lowering your gaze. “Are you saying you had relations with him?” Jonas asked bluntly, his straightforwardness making Yeosang increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. You nodded slowly as more tears formed.

“I see,” Jonas said softly but offered nothing else. “And then what happened?”

You spent the next several minutes telling as detailed an account of what happened from the multiple times you and Hongjoong had sex to his odd changes in behavior until you reached the day of your return.

“I had woken up to find Hongjoong missing so I went looking for him,” you explained, sniffling. “I found him crouched by the stream close to the cabin. I could tell something was wrong but when I tried to get him to open up to me, he lashed out,” you continued. “He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against a tree. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die…”

Yeosang resisted the urge to take your hand, to comfort you. He knew he couldn’t do those things in front of Jonas. “Then he seemed to come to his senses and dropped me. He said he couldn’t control it and then he ran away. I couldn’t chase him because I had not seen which direction he had gone in,” you pressed on.

“So I went back to the cabin to wait for him.”

“And did he come back?” Jonas asked, his voice void of curiosity. You nodded, biting your lip to hold in a sob. “He did,” your voice broke as you spoke. “We talked and then he kissed me. He… tried to…” you choked out a sob, your grip on your sheets tightening.

Yeosang couldn’t hold back anymore and leaned forward, taking your hand gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I don’t think you need to say it. I can assume what happened.” You looked up at him, tears spilling down your cheeks. “So you ran?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention again. You nodded. “I did,” you answered.

“I ran as fast as I could through the forest until I ran into Yeo – Pastor Kang,” you explained, looking down at your hands. “After that, everything is a blur.”

Jonas nodded wordlessly as he watched you and Yeosang in mild curiosity. “I see,” he said. “Well, I must return to the church. Thank you for your honesty and your testimony, Miss Y/N,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It has been most informative.”

He bid you both farewell and turned to leave, closing the door behind him leaving you and Yeosang alone. You shifted in bed, readjusting the covers as Yeosang moved to sit on the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft and full of caution. You looked up to meet his gaze. “Yes?” you asked, voice hoarse. Yeosang picked up the glass of water and handed it to you, watching as you took a gulp before handing it back, thanking him.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he continued as he set the glass aside and turned his gaze on you. The look on your face must have caused him hesitation because he glanced away, not speaking. Perhaps he was seeking the right words.

“What is it?” you asked, sitting up against your pillows more, the bed linens rustling around you, causing Yeosang to turn his head back to look at you. You locked eyes, staring at one another before he finally spoke.

“The other night while I was on patrol, I ran into Hongjoong,” he started, looking down at his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I asked him about why he’s doing this and he said he wants to take the futures away from the men who killed him.” Yeosang fell silent as he let his words sink in.

You blinked slowly, waiting for him to continue his story. When he didn’t, you spoke up. “Didn’t my father lead the group?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Yeosang nodded silently, staring at his knuckles that were starting to turn white.

“And when I asked him if he planned to kill you–” Yeosang’s voice cracked and he stopped talking momentarily. You looked up from the sheets to the young pastor. “What did he say?” you asked, a lump forming in your throat as you waited for his response.

Yeosang took a deep breath, regaining control over himself before he sat up and looked up to meet your gaze. “He said he will kill you. He no longer has feelings for you. He only cares about retribution.”

Your stomach sank as he spoke, each word like a knife to your gut. You knew the Hongjoong you loved was gone but still learning that he wanted to kill you stung. It felt like someone taking a hot iron and jabbing it into your heart and twisting. You brought your hand up, placing it over your heart as your gaze fell back to the sheets. “I see,” you whispered.

You heard the sound of movement, the floor creaking as Yeosang stood and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He took your free hand in both of his, the warmth of his hand a nice reprieve for your cold, clammy hands.

“I won’t let him,” he said softly. “Whatever I have to do, I will not let him hurt you.”

You looked up, meeting his soft gaze. “Thank you,” you replied, placing your other hand on top of his. “For telling me and for protecting me as you have while I was unresponsive. My parents told me that you stayed by my side the whole time I was on death’s door. Thank you for that as well, Yeosang.”

He said nothing, merely nodding his head, lowering his eyes to your joined hands. A thought crossed his mind and he briefly entertained bringing it up and after some internal back and forth, he let out a sigh, looking back up.

“I know this is not the time to speak of this, but before all of this, I had promised your parents that I would marry you,” he started, piquing your interest and you tilted your head slightly, curious as to what he was about to say.

“And after everything that’s happened, I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d like to keep that promise,” Yeosang continued. “If you’ll still have me that is.” Your expression remained stoic as you regarded him, mulling over his words before a small smile broke across your face. It was the first genuine smile Yeosang had seen on your face in weeks.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a nod. “Especially if it will get me out of this house,” you added to which Yeosang looked mildly confused. You glanced towards the door before leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

“I love my parents and I’m thankful for them taking me back but if I am to be honest,” you explained. “They’ve been insufferable since I returned. Especially after the sickness. Mother has barely slept or left my side and father looks worried all the time. I think getting married might ease their worries. Especially if it’s to you.”

Yeosang couldn’t help the small surge of pride from your revelation. “I’d like to marry you very much,” you added as you settled back against your pillows. Yeosang recognized the fatigue that took over your features and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll speak with your father,” he announced, lifting one of his hands to feel your cheek. “Your skin feels a little cool,” he added. “Get some rest.” You nodded as he stood up, leaning down to press a tender kiss against the top of your head. “Thank you for speaking with us,” he added as you settled down, reaching to pull the blankets up slightly and tuck you in.

As you slipped into slumber, Yeosang walked quietly to the door, opening it and shutting it softly before descending the stairs. Your father was sitting at the table while your mother tended to the pot hanging over the fire in the hearth. As Yeosang entered the room, they both turned to look at him.

“She’s resting,” he announced. “She’s exhausted herself.” Your mother let out a small sob and your father nodded, sighing heavily. Yeosang hesitated as your mother went back to the pot before he walked a few paces closer. “I’d like to speak to you about something,” he announced, drawing their attention again.

Yeosang looked from your mother to your father who gestured for him to sit. Yeosang waved his hand. “It won’t take long,” he explained. “But before, you asked me if I would marry your daughter to save her reputation. Your reputation,” he started.

He could see the solemn shame on your father’s face as he recalled the reasons for marrying you off before. “Look, Pastor Kang,” your father started. “You don’t have to do it anymore. I don’t think our reputation is worth saving at this point.”

Yeosang remained silent as your father spoke. “It was wrong of me to ask that a man of God take a… my daughter,” he explained. “So if you’d like to back out of it, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Yeosang let out a small huff before he moved over to the table, taking the seat across from your father who looked up in shock at the sudden movement. “I know that before you were trying to save face because of Y/N’s relationship with Hongjoong but I want you to know that I didn’t care about her relationship with Hongjoong before and I don't care about it now. If your offer is still on the table, I’d like to take it. If not, I’d still like to marry your daughter.”

Your mother let out a soft gasp, covering her mouth with her hand as your father looked from her to Yeosang, a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t understand… She’s not… she’s been…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out which worked out in Yeosang’s favor.

“I don’t care who she’s lain with. I care about your daughter, daresay, even love her. I wouldn’t care if she was a virgin or not. I want to protect her in any way I can,” Yeosang argued. He could tell by the looks on their faces, your parents couldn’t fathom why he wanted to marry you but after a moment of silence, your father finally nodded and stood up, Yeosang following suit. Your father held out his hand and Yeosang shook it.

“You have our permission and blessing. As soon as she is well enough.”

The following day, Yeosang had a notice hung up on the door of the church, announcing his intention to marry you and that should no one object, it would happen much sooner than later. As he was a pastor and in good standing with the village, absolutely no one objected to his intentions and all that was left was for you to get better.

It had been a few days since the notice was hung and you were still bed ridden as instructed by the village doctor. You had taken over mending for your mother since you could do that from the comfort of your bed. Yeosang visited you daily and most of the time you sat in a comfortable silence as you sewed and he read. Sometimes he would read to you while you worked. He always left before dinner, despite your mother insisting he stayed.

Once you were allowed to leave your bed, your activity increased and you started helping with small chores as your strength returned, as did the color to your skin. You’d been sickly and it had shown but you were starting to look healthy again.

Your mother traded with one of the neighbors to get some new material with which to make a dress for you to wear at the wedding. You helped by giving your input but it was still a modest piece of clothing that you could always incorporate into your wardrobe.

As the day approached, you saw less and less of Yeosang and were concerned that maybe he was getting cold feet until he came to visit the night before the wedding. He finally agreed to stay for dinner and it was the first time you left your room to eat.

Normally you would have eaten in your room but your finished dress hung in there and you were adamant on not letting Yeosang see it until the wedding. A silly thing to some but to you, it was important and when you had told him, he agreed that if it was important to you, then it was important to him.

Your mother had worked tirelessly that day preparing a nice roast dinner with boiled potatoes and a few other vegetables your mother had pulled from the garden. She’d also spent a good portion of the day preparing a nice dessert.

You sat across from Yeosang who sat between your mother and your father. It dawned on you as you sat there that in less than 24 hours, Yeosang would be your husband. Your thoughts were interrupted by your father who spoke up.

“And news on the demon situation?” he asked suddenly, making your head snap up as you looked at him before turning your attention to Yeosang. “I hardly think that kind of conversation is appropriate for the table, dear,” your mother responded, very pointedly. Yeosang glanced at you before speaking. “Nothing of note. No one else has died–” he explained.

“Praise be,” your mother interjected and you could see Yeosang attempt to keep his expression neutral but you knew deep down he was fighting the urge to laugh. “But he’s still out there and that’s all the more reason to be cautious,” Yeosang continued.

“He’s still after Y/N and he won’t leave until he gets what he wants.”

Silence fell over the table and you continued to eat, keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself. You knew you could always talk about them with Yeosang but around your parents, you had to keep a facade. You couldn’t let it slip. Not now.

After dinner and dessert, Yeosang announced his departure. You walked him to the door as he thanked your parents for the meal. Once at the door, you stepped out onto the stoop, shutting the door behind you for a little bit of privacy with your soon-to-be husband.

“Are you alright?” he asked, no doubt wondering about your mental state after the conversation at the table. You nodded silently, reaching up to adjust the fastening of his cloak. “I am,” you answered when he continued to stare. 

“I know Hongjoong is gone. The Hongjoong I knew anyway. Whatever is left is a shell of him. And inside, an evil is parading around and masquerading as him. It must be stopped and banished,” you explained. Yeosang’s fingers curled gently around your wrist, eyes boring into yours.

“I know it can’t be easy,” Yeosang said softly. “I know you envisioned a life with him and that you loved him deeply. I’m not seeking to replace him,” he continued. You forced a smile. “But tomorrow I fully intend to promise myself to you. I know I can never make up for what you’ve lost—”

You leaned in, pulling Yeosang into a kiss, cutting him off. It was a chaste kiss without any ulterior motives. As you pulled back, a smile crossed your face. “I know,” you answered. “I don’t want you to replace Hongjoong. I just want to live my life.”

Yeosang’s hand moved up to cup your cheek as he stared into your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Yes,” you answered as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

It was something you hadn’t experienced since before everything went to hell. Hongjoong had been the only one to show you this form of affection and getting from Yeosang now was something you weren’t prepared for.

“Tomorrow, then,” he whispered, standing back up and giving you a smile, one you returned as he slowly backed away before he turned and walked through the darkness until his clothing blended into the night.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated quietly.

The morning passed in a blur as you were woken up by your mother and told to bathe, cleaning yourself. Your father had gone to the meeting house to prepare for the ceremony as he would actually be the one officiating your wedding. You dressed in silence, aided by your mother who then stood back to admire her handiwork on your dress. It was a simple dress, cut from plain cloth but it was still a work of art.

You sat in your room, nervously twiddling your thumbs and getting up every once in a while to pace. After what felt like an eternity, your mother finally opened your door and told you it was time. You followed her downstairs and stopped just before entering the parlor. Your mother turned to you and smiled. 

“It’s just us, Yeosang, and a few of the neighbors,” she said softly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I knew you wouldn’t want too many people here. So I’ve asked Eliza and her family to join us.” You smiled, thanking her for taking your feelings into consideration.

The door to the parlor opened and your father appeared, looking between you and your mother. “Well, are we ready?” he asked. You looked up and nodded before following your mother and father inside.

It was as your mother had said. Your parents, Eliza and her parents, and Jonas were present as Yeosang had no family in the village. He’d moved to the village on his own and since then, Jonas had become an unofficial father of sorts.

You crossed the room behind your parents and stopped when you reached Yeosang’s side. His eyes followed you as you walked and you felt a surge of pride inside yourself when you realized he was unable to take his eyes off you.

Your father stood before you, the others in attendance standing behind you as you waited for your father to start speaking. “Marriage is a part of our lives here and ingrained into each and every one of us. It is a civil matter but of course, a spiritual one as well,” your father said, reading from a page in his journal. You felt Yeosang’s hand close around yours, fingers lacing with your own, helping to calm and ground you,

“Before me stands two young adults who have agreed to enter in this union, knowing fully that it is a promise they make not only before their family but also to one another. Yeosang,” your father turned to look at him. 

“Will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her, lead her, comfort, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to her, as long as you both shall live?”

Your heart skipped as you realized this was it. The vows were simple and to the point. There was never any extreme pomp and circumstance to weddings in the village as shown by the fact that it was just you and your family and one of your oldest friends.

You glanced up at Yeosang who met your gaze before looking at your father, a smile gracing his face. “I will,” he answered. Your heart calmed a moment before you realized it was your turn, eyes widening as your father turned to look at you.

“Y/N, will you have this man as your wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you obey him, follow him, help him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to him, as long as you both shall live?”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You felt Yeosang give your hand a gentle squeeze and you looked up to meet his gaze, his soft brown eyes looking back at you. A calm settled over you as you looked into his eyes before responding without taking your eyes off him.

“I will.”

The moments that followed afterwards were a blur as the short ceremony concluded and your mother returned to the kitchen to make sure dinner was ready. Eliza and her mother joined while your father and Eliza’s father, Abel, stepped outside for a moment, leaving you alone with your new husband in the parlor. 

You stared at the painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a simple one you had painted not long ago of the wildflower field you used to visit with Hongjoong. It felt like a lifetime ago now. You heard Yeosang approach you cautiously, his footsteps careful.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice quiet. You drew your attention away from the painting and turned to look at him. “Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. You nodded, a smile growing on your face before you crossed the distance. Before you had the chance to say or do anything, the door to the parlor opened and Eliza peered in, a smirk on her face.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced.

Yeosang led the way to the kitchen where everyone had already gathered around the table. You joined them, sitting across from Yeosang and next to your mother. The dinner was not unlike the one your mother had made the night before. Instead of a roast, she made a baked chicken with all the fixings.

The conversation around the table was mostly between your parents, Eliza’s, and Jonas but occasionally Yeosang or you would chime in. After dinner and desserts, you headed upstairs with your mother to pack whatever you planned to take with you.

Yeosang had been given a modest house when he moved to the village. Jonas lived in the church but Yeosang had opted to live on his own instead of moving in with another family. Since his home already had everything you would need, you were only taking the necessities, your clothes, a few personal possessions, and your books.

Your father and Eliza’s father carted everything over and once you were ready, you left your parent’s home for the last time. Your mother cried, as you expected she would but you reminded her you weren’t that far away and you could always come visit which Yeosang agreed with.

Eliza and her mother returned home and once your father returned and you said your goodbye to him, you left with Yeosang and the elder pastor. The walk was silent between the three of you but you were grateful for the silence. Jonas accompanied the two of you until you passed the church where he bid the two of you goodnight and went inside, leaving you and your new husband to walk the last stretch to his home alone.

You had never seen Yeosang’s home but you knew it was a one story three-quarter house. Once inside, Yeosang gave you a very short tour which consisted of the living room, a kitchen off from which a well sized and stocked pantry was as well as a borning room which made your cheeks burn.

You were married now and expected to carry out your duties as a woman and a wife. You were sure Yeosang would want children at some point but perhaps that talk would take place after the demon had been dealt with.

Yeosang showed you to the two bedrooms, one at the back of the house off the kitchen, which was where he had already claimed as his own bedroom, and one in the front which was an offshoot from the vestibule. “You are more than welcome to have your own bedroom,” he explained as you returned to the kitchen. “I don’t mind sleeping alone.”

Ignoring his statement, you removed your cloak and draped it over the back of one of the chairs at the table before turning to him. “What’s upstairs?” you asked, looking at the ceiling. Yeosang followed your gaze. “Attic space,” he explained. “It’s just one large space.” He turned to look at you. “Would you like me to make the bed in the other bedroom?” he asked.

You shook your head, crossing the distance. “We’re married,” you started. “We don’t have to sleep in separate beds,” you explained, taking his hand and bringing it up to press your cheek into his palm. “We don’t have to share a bed if you aren’t comfortable with it,” he whispered but you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I want to.”

A silence fell between you as you stared up at him, eyes flickering down to his lips and back up. Yeosang must have read your actions because he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“I know we’re married,” he started. “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You leaned in, lips inches from his. “I know,” you answered. You could feel a single tremor course through his body prompting you to place one of your hands against his chest and push him back until he was against the wall beside the door to the bedroom.

“I want this,” you continued. “We’re married so there’s no reason we can’t do what married couples do.” You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to?” Yeosang stared at you for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes before carefully taking your face in his hands.

“If you think I don’t want to, then you’re wrong,” he whispered, eyes searching yours, admiring the sparkle that seemed to gleam from them. “Then do it,” you said softly. “Make me your wife in every sense of the word, Yeosang.”

The moment his name left your lips, Yeosang pulled you into a searing kiss. Your lips parted and to your surprise, you felt his tongue slip past your lips into your mouth. His hands trailed down to your hips, grabbing at your dress and pulling you closer, pressing your body against his. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, pulling back, letting out a groan as your hands pulled at his clothes. “I am,” you replied, one of your hands sliding up his chest and around to the back of his neck until your fingers curled into his hair.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” you added, tugging gently, forcing his head back and exposing his neck to you. Yeosang let out a soft groan at the sensation but he submitted completely to your touch. “Then go ahead, wife,” he murmured as your lips left a trail of kisses down the side of his neck.

With your free hand, you started to pull at the buttons of his clothes, undoing them one by one until his overcoat was open. You pulled back only enough to push it off him, letting it fall to the floor before going back in, nipping at the skin of his neck as your hands continued to undo his shirt.

Yeosang’s hands stayed at your hips as you continued to undress him. It wasn’t entirely lost on you that this might be the first time anyone had touched him like this and yet, his movements seemed to match yours, falling into a rhythm as he started to pull at your own clothes. Once you managed to remove his shirt, he stopped you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly.

You were about to ask what was wrong when he spoke, confirming your suspicions.

“I need to tell you,” he said, breathlessly. “I’ve never done this before. This is entirely new to me,” he continued, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned in, cutting him off with a kiss. “I know,” you replied. “It’s okay,” you reassured him before taking his hand and pulling him into the bedroom with you, not even bothering to shut the door as you led him over to the bed and guided him to sit.

He watched as you slowly started to remove your dress, a slight pink tinge reaching his cheeks as you undressed. “Shouldn’t I do that?” he asked softly. You fought the urge to smile, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before you took his hands and guided them.

He maintained eye contact as he finished undoing the buttons of your dress and carefully pulled the fabric away from your body leaving you in your undergarments. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back, climbing onto the bed and forcing him to scoot further onto the mattress before straddling his hips.

One of his hands moved to the small of your back, fingers tracing a circular pattern against you through the thin material of your chemise. You took his face in your hands, studying his expression before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he mumbled against your lips. You shook your head, pressing another kiss and then another. “Well you are,” he replied. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he added between kisses, making you giggle, breaking your focus. “Am I?” you asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. He nodded silently, his free hand moving up to the side of your neck.

“I’m not just saying that because you’re my wife,” he continued. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, Y/N.” You bit your lips to try and hide your smile but failed to stop the grin spreading across your face. “You’re beautiful, too, you know,” you replied.

“There’s something so… ethereal about you,” you added. Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he responded. “I’m not–” he started to say but you stopped him, pressing your fingers to his lips. “No, you are,” you retorted. “You’re beautiful, too, Yeosang.”

He didn’t respond, merely looked up at you before nodding, accepting your praise. “If you insist, my dear.” You nodded, pulling him close. “I do,” you answered. “In fact, I readily insist.” You sealed it with another kiss, moaning softly as his hands slid down your back until he had your waist in his hands.

He pulled you against him, your core grinding against him, brushing against the fabric of his trousers. You pulled back, placing both your hands on his chest and pushed, urging him to lie back against the mattress. “Lie down,” you said, which finally made him follow.

“You may be my husband,” you said, leaning over to kiss him once, twice, before speaking again. “And you may make all the decisions regarding our lives,” you continued, stopping him when he tried to interject. “But in this bedroom,” you whispered, lips ghosting over his.

“I am the one in charge.” As you spoke, your hand slipped between your bodies, finding the waistband of his pants and slipped under it, finding his hard cock and taking it firmly in your hand. The hiss Yeosang let out was uncharacteristic but it filled you with pride to have such an effect on him.

“Y/N,” he started as your hand moved, stroking him slowly. “Yes?” you whispered, eager to hear what he had to say as you continued to jerk your hand. “I’m yours,” he responded, eyes fluttering shut as you watched his face. “I’ve always been yours.”

‘Always?’ you thought, wondering what he could possibly mean but you would worry about that later. You squeezed slightly as your hand continued to move, taking note of Yeosang’s responses, reading his body language like a book.

He let out a whine as you removed your hand from his pants before pulling back to undo the ties of his trousers and slowly pull them down until you could toss them aside, leaving him completely nude under you.

You climbed back over him, straddling his hips as you settled down, feeling the smooth underside of his cock against your slick core. Yeosang let out a shuddering groan, hands moving to your hips to still your movements.

You gave him a few moments to adjust to the new feeling before his hands moved again, pulling your skirt up. “Shouldn’t we remove this?” he asked, his voice shaky. You took his wrists and guided his hands up to the tie at the top of your chemise.

“Go ahead,” you simply responded. “Undress me.” 

Yeosang hesitated before his fingers started to undo the ties, fumbling slightly as he did. Once it was untied, you merely pulled it off and dropped it off the side of the bed. You watched Yeosang’s eyes scanned your body, taking in the new sight before him.

After a few moments of silence and inaction, you took his hands again and guided them up to your chest. “You know you can touch me, right?” Yeosang nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s just all so new.”

You leaned over to press a kiss to his lips before sitting back up, slowly rolling your hips. You watched the way his eyes fluttered shut as you grinded against him before raising your hips slightly to reach between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his cock, lining the tip with your slit before you slowly sank down.

Yeosang let out a choked moan as your walls slowly swallowed his length. You resisted the urge to groan as he bottomed out, your pussy spasming around him as you both adjusted to the new feeling. “Yeosang?” you called softly, leaning over slightly and resting your hands against the mattress on either side of his head.

“Are you okay?”

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he licked his lips and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice. “M’okay,” he answered, words slightly slurred. “Just give me a moment.” You nodded, dipping down to kiss him gently.

After a few moments, and a few more kisses, his hands moved from your chest down to your hips, urging you to move. “Okay,” he said, eyes fluttering open. “I think I’m ready.” You bit back a smile as you nodded, raising your hips enough for him to slide out of you until just the tip was in and then sank back down.

Yeosang let out another moan, his eyes shutting again as a shudder ran through his body. “I’m okay!” he said suddenly. “Keep going, please.” You did as he asked, setting a slow and steady pace. “How does it feel?” you whispered, lips hovering over his.

“G-good,” he answered in a shaky voice. “Just good?” you asked teasingly. “I think I can do better than just good.” You moved faster, hips bouncing on him as you took his cock deeper. Yeosang let out a hiss that sounded an awful lot like a curse but you didn’t dwell on it.

Instead you angled your hips, driving his cock into your cunt at a new angle and making you moan loudly. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, fingers digging into your skin as his hips now bucked up to meet your movements.

“How about that? Is that better?” you asked breathlessly. Yeosang nodded erratically, moans slipping past his lips as you brought both of you closer and closer to the brink.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m not ready… I mean, I don’t want to — ” he fell silent but you were able to guess what he meant. “You don’t want it to end?” you asked, slowing your hips and rolling them instead. He nodded, hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

“Let’s change things up, shall we?” you asked. Yeosang opened his eyes slowly and looked up as you lifted off him, his cock slipping out of you. “What do you — ” he started as you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “You take over,” you said, lying back against the mattress and parting your knees. Yeosang hesitated before moving between your thighs.

You were about to reach for him but instead, he took himself in his hand and guided the head to your fluttering hole. He didn’t need to be urged or guided as he pressed into you, letting out a moan as he slid back into you.

Before you could offer any guidance, he moved his hips, thrusting into you experimentally. You let out a gasp as he moved and spread your legs further. Yeosang was careful not to lay his weight on top of you as he continued to thrust into you.

“Am I… I mean… is this right?” he asked, his voice breathless as he looked down at you with those warm brown eyes. You nodded, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a messy kiss that was full of tongue. 

Your free hand found one of his and you took it, lacing your fingers with his as you felt the all too familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, the tension building in your body but before it could snap, Yeosang’s voice brought you out of it.

“I think I’m about to—”

“Do it,” you replied, cutting him off, your fingers curling into his hair. “Come inside me. Make me your wife,” you added, walls fluttering around his cock which drove him over the edge and he came with a groan, hips stilling as he released inside you. Your orgasm followed as he emptied himself inside you, making sure that you took every last drop with a few more thrusts before he finally stilled completely.

The next few minutes were a blur of panting, whispered praise on your end before Yeosang pulled his now soft cock out of you and rolled onto his back beside you. You lay there for a few more moments, eyes shut as you basked in the aftermath of your climax before you finally sighed and opened your eyes.

You sat up and turned your head to look at Yeosang who looked utterly spent beside you. Carefully you got up and walked out of the room to the kitchen to grab a cloth and wet it before returning to the bedroom. You wiped Yeosang down before yourself and then tossed the cloth aside before climbing into bed and pulling back the covers.

Yeosang muttered in protest as you pulled the linens up to cover your naked bodies. “Shouldn’t we put our night clothes on?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he started to drift off to sleep. You rolled over to face him and smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. “No,” you answered.

“We can sleep like this. Only we will know,” you added. You felt his arms encircle you, pulling your body closer as he muttered something that sounded like an agreement. Yeosang quickly fell into the embrace of slumber and you followed shortly thereafter, a dreamless sleep encompassing you both.

The calm before the storm.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me unless stated otherwise.

[ixalit]

can i assume that you like htp? if so, are there any favorite htp fics you can rec? 👀 my favorite one is dragging you down, demon bucky series and i love it tbh

I do!

Here are my favorites, some very popular, and others that are lesser known. As always, heed the tags and only read what you’re comfortable with!

(Here’s part 2)

Lamb and Martyr by @dsudis

40k, 5 chapters, complete

Steve/Bucky

graphic depictions of violence, rape recovery, rape roleplay, kink negotiation, under-negotiated kink, unsafe kink, subdrop, topdrop, complicated consent

Summary: "You could, though," Steve said. "If you were willing to hurt me."

Motions series by Nonymos

Steve/Bucky, Pierce/Bucky

Story 1: Training Motions

19k, 4 chapters, complete

alternate universe - modern, no powers, spies and secret agents; secret agent steve; torture; sex slavery; humiliation; object insertion; non-consensual body modification; forced feminization; dead dove: do not eat

Summary:

If Alexander Pierce, notorious weapons dealer, can be tricked into selling to SHIELD, his entire business will be exposed and the planet will be just a little safer. Steve's not the best at undercover work, but there was nobody else for the job and he would do anything to close the deal.

Of course, things get complicated when the deal turns into a competition. Things get more complicated when the competition starts hinging on who can hurt Pierce's submissive the most. Steve's not certain James is here on his own free will, and Steve's not certain he can compromise his morals, even to save millions of lives.

Story 2: Motion Training

78k, 31 chapters, complete

past rape/non-con, rape recovery, rape aftermath, consent issues, post hydra trash party, mutual pining, flashbacks, discussions of suicide

Summary:

After three years of slavery, Bucky's suddenly free again. He's not sure how to come back from that. Doing everything right just feels like going through the motions, but he has to keep going anyway - because there are some very wrong things he cannot afford to want.

Humans as Gods by Hyperthetical

5k, shrinkyclinks

rape/non-con, hurt/comfort, size kink, minor character death, dubious consent, hydra made them do it, happy ending, cuddling & snuggling

Summary:

HYDRA scientists successfully de-serum Captain America, only to discover that they are utterly unprepared for Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier follows his instructions to the letter. This works out just great.

So Familiar A Gleam by Lauralot

10k, stucky

nightmares, victim blaming, self-hatred, self-harm, drug use/abuse, overdosing, hallucinations, mental instability, past sexual abuse, past rape/non-con, electrocution, psychological horror, emotional/psychological abuse

Summary: Steve is always honest when Bucky’s sleeping.

Hallowed Ground by @shinelikethunder

12k, stucky, steve/hydra agents, bucky/hydra agents

rape aftermath, church sex, past torture, past rape/non-con, virginity, comfort sex, no healing cock, misappropriated religious imagery, hurt/comfort, sloppy seconds

Summary:

Bucky thinks about cleaning guns, or doing field maintenance on his arm, and tries to pretend he's repairing something delicate as he traces the lines of violence carved into Steve's flesh.

It'd be nice to believe that's what he's doing.

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me by Chianine

4k, stucky

humiliation, self-hatred, physical abuse, rape/non-con

Summary:

When he's not being raped, beaten, or forced to commit murder, the Winter Soldier has a lot of time alone to dream and wonder what it would be like to not be treated like a piece of trash. He makes up a fantasy friend who would be big and strong and come and rescue him from HYDRA and all the people who hurt him. Then he would take the Soldier home and give him good food and wash him and touch him softly and take him to his nice warm bed and kiss him and hold him close and keep him safe.

Of course when he imagines this friend it's always a blonde blue-eyed handsome man. The Soldier decides to give this imaginary friend a name and the only one that comes to mind is Steve...

He doesn't realize that this person isn't made up - he is a memory.

There Is No Shortage of Blood by @dsudis, @artgroves

246k, 57 chapters, complete

Steve/Bucky

rape recovery, rape aftermath, rape fantasy, flashbacks, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, unsafe bdsm practices, bucky’s broken dick, sexual dysfunction, winter soldier trial, canon divergence, autoerotic asphyxiation, knifeplay, no safeword (just this once), risk aware consensual kink

Summary:

The long slow recovery of Bucky Barnes after his escape from HYDRA.

(And the longer, slower recovery of his sex life.)

to burn your kingdom down by glorious_spoon

12k, 5 chapters, complete

Steve/Hydra agents

graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, whump, past rape/non-con, hurt/comfort, rescue, hurt steve, steve/stoicism

Summary:

The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.

No Broken Bones, No Permanent Damage by ponderosa121

1k, bucky/pierce, bucky/hydra agents

gang rape, knives

Summary: Something stirs in the dark places beneath his ribs. What does he want?

A Simple Excuse for a Complex Crime by @shinelikethunder

6.5k, stucky

graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, torture, interrogation, knifeplay, blood, electrocution, object insertion, bucky barnes’s metal arm, identity porn, memory recovery, the author regrets everything

Summary:

Pierce's motives for bringing the Winter Soldier in to interrogate Captain Rogers are more than a little bit suspect.

Follows directly on Elevator, Take 2, but literally the only thing you need to know about that one is "the one where the elevator beatdown ends in a gangbang instead." Just like the only thing you need to know about this one is "all the filthy trash Cap/Winter Soldier noncon you didn't know you wanted."

The Soldier or the Tiger by Anonymous

2.5k, bucky/rumlow, bucky/hydra agents

rape/non-con, attempted rape/non-con, non-consensual drug use, anal sex, anal fingering, sloppy seconds, dirty talk, multiple orgasms

Summary:

Prompt: I've read a fair share of pretty hot hydra operatives/WS fics. On one hand I like them a lot, but most of the time i have to ask myself, is it really SAFE? The WS is programmed for violence, I can't buy that he ALWAYS submits without any thought.

So I kind of want Rumlow/WS and other operatives/WS (but this is optional, I mostly want Rumlow) non-con sex, but where the risk of getting their heads taken off is very much present. Still, it's like trying to pet a beautiful tiger knowing it can rip off your jugular if you do it wrong... it's addicting.

[stevebuckyfics]

Endgame Fix-it Fics

Hello! So, it’s about a week in and I’ve read some fantastic post-endgame fix its, and I thought I’d share them. I’m sure there are more, but these are the ones I loved. I might make another post later on, when I’ve read more :)

Please heed author notes and tags for specific warnings, I will just link the fics with their summary! 

born in fire (again and again) by defcontwo

Natasha lands, in dust and sand and light, in the middle of a great landscape of nothingness. She sits up, and touches one hand to the back of her head, and it comes away wet and sticky with blood.

There’s copper in the back of her mouth, and she spits it out into the sand, watching with satisfaction as the blood splatters into the otherwise pristine surface.

“Huh,” Natasha says. “So this is death.”

when we came home by augustbird ( @augustbird )

Fighting is hard. Rebuilding is harder. Post-Endgame AU.

like heaven stood up in you by napricot

“You said you were gonna miss him,” says Bruce slowly. “He was supposed to be back in five seconds, but you hugged him and said ‘I’m gonna miss you.’”

Bucky’s face is serene again now, and gives nothing away. “I know Steve,” he repeats. “You think you can hand him a time machine and some rocks of unspeakable power and he’s just gonna go put ‘em right back where they belong?”

Steve does put the Infinity Stones right back where they belong. He just does a couple other things too. Or: three timelines and a Reverse Time Heist.

picture it soft by midnightroom

When Steve lurches awake, his heart is pounding in his chest. His shirt, soaked in sweat, clings damply to his skin. One fist is clutching the sheets of the bed, and the other is clenched so hard he can feel his fingernails making little half-moons in his palm.

Thanos—

The Stones. Dust drifting through the air, ash so thick you could choke on it. Five endless, aching years of white noise. His team. The lunacy of time travel, the mind-bending, fuse-blowing reality of hand-to-hand combat with himself. The bruise blooming across his cheek to serve as proof. A soft jazz song playing on a record, a crackling hearth, red lipstick. Death, death, death—

Beside him, Bucky shifts in his sleep, turns over so he's facing Steve. His eyes are closed and his mouth is parted, and Steve can see the dark shadow of his hair spread across the pillow like an ink-stain.

(or, Steve and Bucky in the aftermath of Endgame, picking memories apart.)

Ever Mine, Ever Ours by hitlikehammers

Steve goes back to return the Stones, for the sake of the universe.

The extra Pym Particles he palms when Bruce isn't looking, though? Those are for the heart he has now and the heart he took into the ice; those are for the loves he's known and held and lost and found, those—

Those are for the sake of his soul.

Avengers: Endgame Fix-It.

Lichtenberg Figures by rustywrites

Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame

The scars take some getting used to.

(An ending re-work where everybody lives)

When People See Us by Brokenpitchpipe

Rumlow knocks his shoulder good-naturedly. “Hail HYDRA.” “Thanks,” Steve says automatically, “you too.”

Hearing “Bucky’s still alive” in his own voice might have been a little unexpected, sure. But Steve’s definitely not prepared for the entirety of STRIKE to suddenly and inexplicably think he’s a secret Nazi. (He’s not prepared to learn there are secret Nazis either, for the record.)

the epitaph of an old record player by celestialfics ( @liquidsaints )

Peggy, intelligent and adaptable as ever, takes the entirety of his story and mulls over it in her head for a time, sitting across from Steve and studying his face. Her eyes are set, eyebrows furrowed, chin sitting in her hands.

After a long while, she speaks.

“Go home, Steve,” she says, voice sure; she’s determined as she’s always been.

found a place to rest my head (never let me go) by bulletsandbutterflies 

ENDGAME SPOILERS.

He tries not to dwell on the unfairness of it. How they had only just been reunited before he was taken away from Steve again. Dwelling makes it harder to move on.

But it’s hard to forget him when he comes to Steve in his dreams. Sometimes, they’re sixteen again, drinking glass after glass of cheap beer to forget the harsh reality that they were struggling to meet ends meet. Other times, they’re in the war, huddled together in the trenches to keep themselves warm from the unforgiving chills of winter.

And there are nights where Steve feels hands on his skin, warm and metal, soft lips against his own.

In which, Endgame decided to ignore Stucky completely so I've come here to fix it.

Part 3 of been waiting a hundred years (and I'd wait a million more)

I Drew a Line for You by Brokenpitchpipe

"What are you doing here, Steve?" Peggy asks.

"I'm," Steve says. "Living."

Peggy smiles. But it's a smile he recognizes, a smile that means she's guessed at the truth and she's guessed right. "No," she says, "you're not."

kingdoms have fallen, angels are calling (none of that could ever make me leave) by bornes

It’s been a long day. It’s been a long five years.

stay by birdjay

The platform buzzes, and suddenly goes quiet. The cycle has finished. Bucky doesn’t bother to look. There’s no way Steve’s coming back when he has the chance to stay. He moves to walk away, to move on with his life, somehow.

“Buck -- ?”

Bucky whirls around, hair flying.

Who I really am (not who I’m supposed to be) by JayPendragon

[SPOILER WARNING for Endgame]

“Don’t tell me it’s not what you want, buddy. I remember you talking about her. You still got her picture in your pocket. You saved the world, you’re supposed to get the girl.”

Yeah, that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Steve thinks but doesn’t say. Once upon a time, before he saw the changes he only ever dreamed of in the thirties come to life in all the colors of the rainbow, before learning that Bucky survived… Back then, he would have agreed.

The Rest of Our Lives by cleo4u2 

SPOILERS STOP READING CHRIST

Fix if fic, picking up when Steve hops into the time machine at the end of the movie and telling what Steve really did for the rest of his life. Hint, it's not a she.

There's Only Now, There's Only Here by stevergrsno  ( @stevergrsno )

“Steve,” Peggy says when she reaches him with quick, steady steps, her- husband and friend? friends? partners? following behind at a more sedate pace.

“Uh,” Steve says, and “Hi?” and “Would you mind telling me what the date is?”

1951. Steve aimed for home and ended up in fucking 1951.

Jesus christ.

---

In which Steve not showing up on the time pad wasn't exactly on purpose and we ignore 95% of that ending.

kiss me twice by espinosas

ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!

Hey. Still Endgame spoilers.

AU where Steve comes back for Bucky.

You'll see him soon. by JDHD

"Go," Bucky said to Sam, because the thought of having to face the man in front of him - the man he no longer knew - was so much more than Bucky could handle. He was like tinfoil, and he was being crushed gently in a fist, and he just wanted to come out without any rips.

He met Sam's eye, and the other man shook his head for a moment. "No. He looked for you for years, Barnes. Maybe he can explain."

----

BIG OL' ENDGAME SPOILERS.

End of Endgame fix it because we deserve better.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice by obsessivereader ( @yetanotherobsessivereader )

Staring at the empty platform where Steve had stood just a moment ago, Bucky experiences one of the longest five seconds of his life. Steve’s not coming back, he thinks, over and over, Steve’s not coming back.

“…two, one.”

A weird distortion shimmers in the air as Steve materializes on the platform. Bucky lets out his breath in a quiet rush. He was so sure. He said his goodbyes and convinced himself that he’d get by just fine, that he was happy that Steve could finally have the life he’d always wanted with Peggy. He knew enough about the machine to know that Steve had a chance to go back to the 40s and pick up the life that was lost to him when he crashed the Valkyrie. And yet, here’s Steve back again, looking tired, dusty, disheveled. Bucky can’t tell what Steve’s thinking as their eyes meet. He’s never seen Steve’s eyes look so blue.

Part 2 of Fix-its that my heart needed

i say your name by rohkeutta ( @rohkeutta )

Bucky’s sitting on the back porch steps, curled up against the chill, when the door opens and closes behind him. Sam, perhaps, awoken by Bucky’s nightmares that lurk in the corners of the rooms: shadows that no longer stand up, ghosts who have laid their rifles down.

Bucky doesn't turn. If it's Sam, he can stay. If it's someone else, they can keep the ghosts.

whatever a sun will always sing is you by onibi ( @canobic )

Steve comes back.

It's Been a Long, Long Time (Coming) by bangyababy ( @bangyababy )

He says it'll take five seconds.

Bucky hopes that he's made the right decision.

He counts.

Five.

lighting up in the shadows by buckyjerkbarnes ( @fypoedameron )

"Don't you know by now there's nothing in the world that could make me walk away from you?"

[Or: a fix-it for Endgame because it would seem I have to do everything around here.]

Another Life by Palebluedot ( @brightbluedot )

"Hey, you," he says as he sits.

~~~

Or, it's been a long, long time, indeed.

(ENDGAME SPOILERS)

[blues-stucky-stuff]

Podfic Rec Friday - 11/16/18

Title: If They Haven’t Learned Your Name

Rating: Mature

Fic Author: silentwalrus (tumblr: @silentwalrus1)

Author Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, standard Winter Soldier trauma umbrella, POV Alternating, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Weirdness, Llamas, Bucky Barnes Has A Complicated Relationship With UFOs, Thirty Korean Grandmothers, Steve And Sam Vs. Canoe, Natasha Is Taking It Personally, Consent Issues, One (1) Orgasm, Podfic Available

Podfic Artists: quietnight (tumblr: @quietnighty)

Podfic Artists Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, standard Winter Soldier trauma umbrella, POV Alternating, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Weirdness, Llamas, Bucky Barnes Has A Complicated Relationship With UFOs, Thirty Korean Grandmothers, Podfic, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: M4B, WIP Big Bang 2016, Podfic Length: very freaking long, audio format: A Mess, Consent Issues

My Tags: Stucky AU, Canon Divergence AU, Post-serum Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve, Winter Soldier Bucky, Natasha is a good bro, Sam is a good bro, Bucky vs Modern Times, TW: Violence, TW: PTSD, TW: Panic Attacks, Podfic Length: 24 hrs

Fic Link: AO3

Podfic Link: AO3

Author Summary: Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.”

“That is not standing,” Sam tells him.

“You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.”

aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

Review:

Guys...guys….this was…

The Most Absolute Best Thing EVER!!

I have finally made my way through this massive fic/podfic and I am completely devastated that it is over. This was a goddamn masterpiece. I should have seen this coming considering this week’s rec it brought to you by the powerhouse team of quietnight and silentwalrus but I don’t think I was truly prepared for this level of amazing.

Now, considering that this podfic weighs in at a highly impressive 24 hr length thanks to a word count of 237k and in deference to anyone who would like to avoid spoilers, I’m going to put my very extensive fangirling over this fic/podfic (and discussion of warnings) underneath a cut because there is going to be a lot of it…

...okay now, if you’ve clicked here, you’re probably interested in hearing more about this story and oh boy am I happy to help.

There is just so much to love about this fic. Now, I want to warn you, there are some heavy scenes in this fic. There is a hefty focus on Bucky’s recovery which he is unfortunately going through on his own. Sometimes he goes into dark places so please heed the warnings about PTSD, violence, and panic attacks if that’s something that concerns you. I wouldn’t mind giving anyone a heads up on what might be something they’d want to skim over if it was needed.

First of all, I adore every single characterization in this fic. Bucky is amazing; watching his transformation from the Winter Soldier to Barnes to finally deciding that he wants to be Bucky again was superb and I loved every second of it. Another thing I am totally in love with is Steve and Sam’s friendship; their Natasha enforced mini-vacation was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen because not only was it hilarious and fun, Steve and Sam discuss some very personal things that will have you feeling all kinds of feels. Finally, it would be an absolute crime to not point out the utterly fantastic storyline for Natasha. I’m always a fan of fics that treat her as more than a sexy dangerous spy who always is correct and this fic delivers. You really get to know her in this fic and I love it so much.

Second...the USS Motherfucker. Never in a million years would I have ever thought that one day I would be calling a spaceship (and a character’s ensuing friendship/relationship with said spaceship) adorable but I have to say this because my mom taught me never to lie. I love how Motherfucker turns into a companion and pet for Bucky and, in its unique way, helps Bucky heal.

Third...and closely related to my second point, Bucky’s relationship with music and his iPod. I don’t think I’ve been so emotional about an iPod being broken. I am not ashamed to admit I teared up a little bit during that scene. (Don’t worry though, things get better in the best of ways, I promise)

Fourth...the Stucky. The glorious, glorious Stucky. I think it’s a testament to how good this fic is that, even though Steve and Bucky aren’t even in the same place for a large portion of the fic, you still get a powerful look at Steve and Bucky’s relationship through Steve’s point of view and his conversations with Sam and Natasha as well as through the fractured lens of Bucky’s mind. I love how the relationship took time to put together. It wasn’t Bucky is Hydra one second and then in love with Steve the next; there’s a natural progression there that definitely qualifies as a slow burn but it burns sooooo good you won’t even care if you don’t prefer lengthy courtships. Even once Steve and Bucky are together in the same physical location, there’s still an element of slow burn but it’s just so damn genuine and sweet that I guarantee that you will love it. And then once they finally address that relationship...I swear you might die from all the feels but you will die happy.

Finally (and super important)...the podfic. This podfic is amazing! The production values are superb and I absolutely love the addition of music that goes with the chapter titles; there’s even music added at points in the story that call for them and sound effects added which brings this podfic to an epic level. Then of course, since this is a quietnight podfic and I can’t not gush over it, the voice acting for the characters is absolutely my favorite. You always know who is talking because everyone has a specific that really embodies their character.

I could probably go on about this fic for hours or possibly days but I’m going to stop here. Hell, I don’t even know if anyone will have had the time or interest to read all this but I had to say it because a fic/podfic combination like this deserves to be talked about. I highly recommend that you listen to the podfic because quietnight does an amazing job but, if that isn’t your thing do yourself a solid and read the fic. This story is just too good to miss.

[shestillhasherquill]

At the Heart of Darkness (9/11)

Hello, hello! I almost forgot that today was Thursday - I started at a new job! Anyway, you don't care. Thank you for your continued interest in this fic. I love reading your tags. I appreciate all the support!!

Thank you Mods of @captainswanbigbang​ for being chill about a lot of stuff and for being so freaking organised.

@sambethe​ was so great throughout. Thank you, for the banner and the artwork for chapter 2 and chapter 5. And for being a third set of eyes on this fic! @downeystarkjr​ I still can't get over how great your videos are, both the teaser and the longer one. Please go to their tumblrs and check their hard work out!!

@accio-ambition​, thank you for being so sweet and for finding the time to edit this despite how busy you were. Ily.

Also, special mention to @peglegsjones whose portrayal of the Dark One in her fic Alone, until I get home inspired me and the way I chose to write the Darkness.

omg we're almost at the end!!!!

Summary: Killian Jones lives in the Land without Magic, with no memories of his family. Until Emma Swan comes into his life like a whirlwind, reminding about everything he had lost. He embarks on an adventure to destroy the Darkness, only to discover that Emma might not be telling him the whole story.

Rating: M

Content Warning: Mentions of Miscarriage, Angst, Gothel (Please heed the Gothel warning, ugh God, she sucks)

Prologue: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 1: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 2: tumblrao3ff.net | Chapter 3: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 4: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 5: tumblr ao3ff.net | Chapter 6: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 7: tumblr ao3 ff.net

Current Chapter: ao3 ff.net

Chapter 8: Don’t bother writing (I’m gone)

Present Day: Enchanted Forest

“What did Emma tell you again?” Killian asked, taking leaping steps just to keep pace with his daughter’s rapid steps.

“That the Dagger was with an old friend. There is only one person Mama would give it  to,” Alice replied, trying to hurry as much as she could.

“Someone she trusted the most?” Killian guessed. But as far as he knew, Emma hardly trusted anybody, let alone enough to entrust his dagger to them.

“Nu-uh, that would be the first person anyone would torture. She gave it to Ariel, Queen of the Water Realms. She can travel between the realms anytime she wanted, and could make a quick getaway.”

Killian knew Ariel; they had been something like friends at some point, despite the animosity between pirates and mermaids. “Ah. She’s a nice lass. How are you going to contact her though?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Alice huffed, stopping in her tracks, pulling a seashell necklace from around her neck. “Using this. I have already sent her message via shell. She should be waiting for us, we must hurry. Now, stop asking questions and follow me!”

Killian frowned, a reprimand ready on his tongue. But he realised with a pang that she was not a little girl anymore; she had been right to take that tone. Emma and Alice had a plan in place and he needed to respect that she knew what she was doing. They had only a small lead, with Gothel being occupied with Emma. She would come after them soon if she realised that they had the Dagger. So far, the only person Gothel thought knew about the Dagger was in her custody. And they had to maintain the ruse for as long as they could.

It took them a few hours, but Alice and Killian finally managed to break through the treeline and onto the short beach. Alice looked around frantically, vibrating on the spot like she was ready to explode. Killian might not know much about this version of his daughter, but her anxiety was not anything new.

“Starfish, Ariel will be here. It will be fine,” he said in a soothing, slow tone, grabbing Alice softly by the shoulders and making her look at him. “Deep breaths, sweetheart. That’s it, just concentrate on your breathing.” He did the breathing exercise along with her, until he felt she had calmed down enough.

Alice sighed, rubbing at her forehead. “Why would Mama do that?!” she exclaimed. “I never should have let her.”

Killian chuckled, despite the situation they were in. “Love, I’ve come to realise that once your mother has set her mind on something, it is neigh on impossible to change her mind. Besides, in her place, I would have done the same thing.” He let out a long breath, his hand and hook resting on his hips. “That does not mean I condone what she did.”

“That’s exactly what you did. Actually, what you did was a million times worse.” Alice’s tone might have been matter-of-fact, but her words hit him in the gut. He had had the chance to apologise to Emma, but he hardly even said goodbye to his little girl before he left her.

“Starfish, I’m so sorry. I-” But Alice held up her hand to half him mid-sentence.

“It’s alright, Papa. I mean, it’s not alright, but it is for now. We will have time for apologies and regret after we get rid of the Darkness and save Mama.”

“That is exactly what your mother said.” He was in awe of the young woman in front of him, and he owed it all to Emma. She was the one who had raised Alice into a smart, brilliant young woman. He couldn’t have done a better job; there would always be a part of him that loathed himself for missing out on the chance to be a good father. And unwittingly, he had lost that chance again because of what had happened with Charles.

He was saved from the dark direction his thoughts were taking by Ariel’s timely arrival. His joy was short lived, though, because the moment he stepped closer to Ariel, the voices in his head grew louder, the Darkness calling out to him, telling him to take his Dagger and run away. To protect himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, staying rooted in place and watched as Alice greeted the mermaid and exchanged pleasantries that he was too far away to hear, and too consumed by the sudden urge to hunt Gothel down.

He lost track of how long he had stood in one place, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to block his ears against the assault of the Darkness. He realised that he had been in control for so long because the Dagger was in another realm. It was a hundred times harder now to quell the voices in his head. He was forced out of his catatonic state by Alice dumping a bucket of cold water over his head. He started at her, dripping with salt water as she stood above him, panting slightly and the now empty bucket still held aloft.

“Th-ank you,” he sputtered out, pushing his hair from his face, and standing up properly. “I apologise, Starfish. I don’t know what got over me.”

Alice nodded, dropping the bucket next to him and taking a seat. She patted the spot next to her, but he could still hear the dull echoes of the Dagger and chose to stand instead. “Was it the Darkness?” she asked softly.

He hesitated to answer her for a very long time, but finally relented, letting out a giant sigh. “Aye.”

“It’s the Dagger.” It was more of statement than a question, and Killian was unsure what he could reply to that. Alice nodded to herself, staring at the horizon for a long time, both of them in somewhat comfortable silence.

“D’you know I hate magic?” she asked, but he had a feeling it was rhetorical, and allowed her to talk. “I do. Magic is what trapped me in that tower, magic is what took you away from me. Magic is what caused Emma and I so much pain in our lives. I could never understand why Mama loved it so much, even after all that had happened. She even wanted me to learn, harness my own magic. But she always understood. She even stopped using magic for me. She’s- She my mother in every single way. Not just in the way that counts. I actively reject Gothel as my mother.” The last part was said with such vehemence, so completely different from the tone she had adopted for the rest that it startled Killian.

He finally took a seat next to Alice, while still maintaining enough distance from the Dagger. “Darling, I realise that I have not been the best father. I know that Emma has made sure that you do not have to suffer the same fate as we both did as children. You are right, she truly is your mother in every single way, and I have just treated her so terribly. I have treated you terribly. How do we get past that? I don't have the answer to that question, I don't have the answer to so many things. I just feel so lost, I feel so miserable and ashamed. So tell me, what do I do?”

Alice sighed heavily, resting her chin on her bent knees, and just stared at the horizon. Killian waited with bated breath for a moment, before deciding that he would not be getting a reply from her. But just as he was about to get up, Alice finally responded. “You don't do anything, Papa. You just need to give her time, give me time, and be there for us. We will get past it because we are family, and family means we never stop trying.” She got up, giving him a hand and pulling him up, dusting the sand from her dress. Killian nodded at her, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. This might not have been forgiveness, but Alice’s words gave him hope. She hesitated, as if she was contemplating saying something. “I love you, Papa. Even when I feel like I should hate you. I love you, because you’re my Papa, and because you’re here now.”

Killian swallowed thickly at the lump in his throat, wordlessly accepting the olive branch she had offered. “Let’s go, love. We have quite the journey to Camelot.”

She reached into Emma’s satchel, retrieving a leather cuff from it and handing it to him.

“I don’t think that’s my style, Starfish,” he chuckled. Regardless, he took the cuff from her, examining it. As far as leather cuffs went, it was fairly routine, nothing that stood out to him about the craftsmanship or the quality.

“It suppresses magic,” Alice explained. “In case you lose control,” she added.

Killian’s jaw clenched, the Darkness in him hissing at her insinuation. It scared him, how quickly his darker impulses came to the fore. The fear of doing something to harm his daughter was enough for him to place the cuff on immediately.

If Alice noticed the haste in which he put it on, she did not comment on it.

-/-

20 years ago: Enchanted Forest

Killian could feel every cell of his body corrupted by the black sludge of the Darkness, burning him from the inside out. All the pain and heartbreak that he had gone through amplified until his heart was nearly bursting from the agony, so much so that all he wanted to do was rip his heart from his chest and cut off his feelings all together. He felt unbelievably violated, the Darkness had taken over his body. He could feel the muck and grime settle in every crevice of his soul.

And when he emerged from his transformation, the Darkness had taken over so entirely - he felt born again, no longer restricted by the whims and restrictions of human existence. He felt the immensity of power at his disposal. He was Captain Hook once again. His lips spread into a wild grin - he had a blonde beauty to thank for liberating him.

Little did he know that Killian Jones was trapped, but alive, under the layers of rotten, filthy darkness.

-/-

Emma teleported herself back to the tower, making both Smee and Alice jump in fright. She couldn’t blame them; she did practically stumble in like a deranged maniac, frantically yelling at Smee to “Leave, now!” Alice backed away from Emma, her eyes wide and blue, fear crystal clear in them. Emma sucked in a deep breath, if only to not frighten Alice any more than she already had.

She quickly relayed what had happened to Smee, promising to tell him the whole story after she had made sure Killian was fine. She hurriedly packed a sack for Alice, carelessly throwing together outfits for her. But she had not been fast enough. When she rounded the corner from Alice’s space into the main room, a silent and docile Alice in tow, Killian was waiting for them, leaning casually against the window ledge. He looked up at that exact moment, a predatory grin on his face as he stalked towards them

Emma stopped dead in her tracks, pushing Alice behind her, the only defense between the child and the Dark One. Because the thing in front of her now was not the man she loved. This was not Killian, and frankly, she was afraid to find out who he was.

Killian stopped just in front of her, his head tilted to the side in a disapproving manner, lips in a slight pout.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He crouched in front of Emma, his gaze shifting to Alice who was hiding behind her, her grip tightening on Emma’s trouser’s leg. “It’s me, Starfish,” he crooned, his predatory look shifting into something far more soft.

“Papa?” Alice sounded scared, tentative. Emma saw Killian’s jaw clench and he glared up at Emma, as if she was the one at fault for Alice fearing him. Emma met his gaze fearlessly.

He was the first one to look away, all of his attention focused on Alice. “Aye, my love. Are you ready to get out of here?”

“Really?” the child asked, a slight edge to her tone, almost like she was afraid to be hopeful.

“Aye, Starfish. Papa found a way. Told you I would, didn’t I?” he grinned, reaching past Emma and taking a willing Alice into his arms, balancing her on his hip. He turned to Emma, his electric blue eyes fixed on hers.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked in an unexpectedly soft tone.

Emma was afraid for him. She was scared about what the Darkness was doing to him, his mood all over the place, unreadable to her. But she did not fear him.  But she knew, she could bring her Killian back. She stepped forward, tentatively brushing her knuckles over his cheek, her magic sparking, triggered by the Darkness in him. He then closed his eyes at her soft touch, his entire countenance losing the air of a man with great power. When his eyes opened, they were back to the cerulean of Killian Jones. She smiled.

“I could never be afraid of you. I’m afraid for you, my love,” she confessed, her eyes shifting to Alice, who had her head resting against her father’s shoulder, her thumb in her mouth. She only did that when she was most distressed.

-/-

Killian nodded in acceptance. He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, and pulled her closer, enveloping his girls in his arms. Once he was certain that they would be shielded properly, he expelled a blast of magic, strong enough to break any spell. He wanted to get the Dark One to free his daughter, and one way or another, that was what he did. The tower started disintegrating around them, and once he felt the spell keeping Alice trapped break, he magically transported all of them to a safer location.

His feet hit the ground hard, jostling the little girl in his arms, while Emma managed to land quite gracefully on her feet. Both the adults turned their gaze on Alice, who looked around her in awe. She was truly outside the tower for the very first time. She squirmed in Killian’s hold, forcing him to let her go. And he hesitated for just a moment, concerned about her exploring too far. But Alice remained by their side, walking around and touching each tree, plant, and rock, gasping each time.

He had been enraged at Emma in the beginning; if it weren’t for her insistence that he grab the Dagger, he would have escaped this curse. But it was only because of the Darkness that he had been able to save his daughter. That couldn’t have been a bad thing, could it? He watched with amusement as his daughter explored the area around her, keeping up a constant chatter.

He chanced a glance at Emma, who was standing on the other side of the clearing they were in, but she was already looking at him with a strange expression. But she smiled at him when she noticed him looking. Odd, she looked almost contemplative.

Emma walked up to him, her hands behind her back. “I have something for you.” She looked serious, confusing him further.

“What is it, Swan?”

“Something that belongs to you,” She brought her hands forward, revealing the Dark One’s Dagger.

The Darkness flared up, screaming at him to possess it, to never let it out of his sight. With the Dagger in his hands, he could do anything he wanted. He reached for it, his hand trembling, but Emma stopped him just before he could touch it.

“Wait. Wait, we need to talk about this.”

“About what?” he growled, not able to take his eyes off of the Dagger.

“You seem different, Killian. You’re not you. Maybe I should just hold on to the Dagger for you,” she suggested. “I am just wo--”

Whatever the rest of her sentence was, Killian could not hear her over how loud the voice in his head was.

How dare she? The Darkness screamed inside his head. It’s yours to take. She is trying to control you. Is that what you want?

“Shut up! Just shut up.” He meant to snap at the voice in his head, but Emma jumped at his harsh tone, hurt flashing in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, dropping the Dagger and backing away. “I’m going to go, and um, find us some food.” Emma walked away from the clearing and toward the dirt road that led to the village. He watched as she glanced at Alice, hesitated, and then kept walking. His gut clenched: he scared her.

What if she was running away from him?

He took and Dagger and placed it in his jacket. He grabbed Alice, despite her protests against being dragged away from turtles, and followed after Emma. Alice continued to cry, beating on his back to let her down, but as much as it pained him, he needed to find Emma, and reassure her. It was just a misunderstanding; everything would be alright.

-/-

Present day: Enchanted Forest

Emma struggled against the magical shackles Gothel had her bound in, but it was in vain. Her binds were too tight. Her wrists painfully rubbed against them when she tried to wriggle her hand out.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you after me?” she spat out at Gothel.

Gothel ignored her, rummaging through the myriad of bottles on the table opposite, her back turned to Emma. A couple of moments passed and Emma started to sweat in the humid room. Gothel had restrained her in the woods and used magic to transport them both. The place resembled the mines, except instead of stone, the walls were made of soil. So it was damp, but still very hot.

Gothel let out a triumphant shout, finally having found what she had been looking for. She moved to face Emma, dangling a small vial at her. “Do you recognise this?”

“Should I?” Emma sassed, glaring at the witch.

“It’s something I made, just for you. It’s mostly sulphur.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

Gothel ignored Emma’s cheekiness. “Actually, I did use it on you once. Do you remember that?”

Emma glared at her, her heart raced simply remembering the pain Gothel’s poison had caused. But Gothel continued, observing Emma with curiosity. “It was meant to corrupt you; that was what the sulphur was meant for. It destroys light magic from within. You should have never been able to survive that.” She crouched in front of Emma, her head tilted to one side, her cold eyes staring at her unblinkingly, unnerving her. “I wondered, how you managed to stay so young over the years. I always assumed you used a glamour spell or a potion. It was only when I realised that my potion did not work that I started understanding what was really going on.”

Gothel smirked at her. Emma knew her panic was clear by her expression. “You have a part of the Darkness in you, Princess,” Gothel whispered gleefully. “My dark magic is no match for that, I know that now. I’m sure you’re suffering enough as it is. You wouldn’t survive losing your magic - you can’t live without it and you can’t live with it.”

Emma couldn’t understand how the witch had figured out her secret. She had been so certain that no one knew about it - not even Alice. It had taken a couple of years for Emma herself to even realise and understand. When Killian had linked the two of them together, some of the Darkness from him transferred to her. Emma assumed that the dark magic she had been sensing had been through the link belonged to Killian. But it was the dark magic in her own veins. Her magic was corrupted, both light and dark a part of each other. It had only become worse over the past 20 years.

Emma had not revealed this part of the plan to Killian for this reason - once they destroyed the Darkness, it would destroy her magic as well. It had been made pretty clear what would happen to her without her magic. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her daughter and her love that she would not survive this. That there was no happily ever after for her.

-/-

20 years ago: Enchanted Forest

Emma heard Alice’s cries before she heard Killian calling her name. She whirled around, startled to see the latter run up to her, holding a crying Alice in his arms.

“Swan,” he breathed, stopping a few feet away from her.

“What’s wrong with Alice?” she asked, stepping forward and taking the crying child into her arms, rubbing her hand over Alice’s back to comfort her. Alice wrapped her arms tightly around Emma’s neck, her cries muffled on Emma’s shoulder.

Killian looked helpless, like he was on the verge of crying himself. He sank to the ground, sitting slumped against a tree, running his hands through his hair, pulling at it painfully. It hurt Emma to see him in such a condition, but she was clueless to help him.

“I think I frightened her. I just- I needed to come after you. I needed to stop you, Swan,” he said after a long while, desperation dripping from his voice.

Alice’s cries had died down by then, and she had drifted off, slumped against Emma. She did not blame her; Alice had had a very eventful evening and it must have been too frightening and confusing for a six-year-old to handle, no matter how intuitive she was.

“Stop me from what, Killian?” Emma snapped, her voice coming out in harsh whisper. “You yelled at me to ‘Shut up.’ I thought you needed a moment to calm yourself.”

“I do not need to calm myself. I’m fine,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

“No, you are not. This is not who you are - flying tempers, making Alice cry? That is the Darkness. You are losing control. We need to get rid of it.”

He rose up, his eyes narrowed, and he looked at Emma contemplatively. “Oh, is that why you held on to my dagger? So you can ensure I don’t ‘lose control?’ You want to control me, is that it?”

“Of course not!” Emma protested. She switched Alice to her hip, leaving one hand free. She did not want to, but if it came down to it, she had to protect herself and Alice against the Darkness. Even if it meant she had to harm him. “Killian, this is not you.”

“No, Emma. This is better,” he argued, keeping his voice down. Emma was relieved that he did not wake Alice up: she did not want the little girl to see her father this way. “I was finally able to get my daughter out of that hell. The only way I was able to do that was with magic. My magic. Not yours.”

Emma reeled at that, feeling like she had been slapped. “I offered to use my magic. I would have done anything for Alice, you know that!”

But Killian ignored her, powering through his own speech. “You told me to grab the Dagger, Swan. You forced this on me, and now that I actually seem to like it, you just can’t handle it.” He wagged a finger at her, grinning like a maniac. “That’s it, isn’t it, love? You can’t handle the fact that I’m stronger than you. That I don’t need your magic.”

Emma bit her lip, her heart clenching at his accusations, trying to convince herself that it was the Darkness making him say these things. He wanted to hurt her, but she couldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“You and I both know that that’s not true. We are a family. It doesn’t matter who is more powerful.”

“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong, Swan. All this time, you had me convinced that I needed you, that I needed your magic to save my daughter, when in fact, I didn’t need you at all. Maybe you knew all along what needed to be done. You were just afraid that you would be left alone again, forever the orphan Princess.”

Tears came unbidden to Emma, every word coming out of Killian’s mouth hitting the mark. She pulled Alice closer, drawing comfort from her daughter.

“That is not fair. You’re not thinking straight,” she said quietly. Whether she was trying to convince Killian or herself, she wasn’t sure. Her hand trembled as she reached for his, the dark magic sizzling under his fingertips. “This is not you. This is not the man I love.”

“Perhaps the man you love is no more,” he whispered, his eyes looking away from her, unable to meet her gaze.

Emma was rendered speechless. She was not sure what she could possibly do to bring her Killian back to her.

“I refuse to believe that,” she said with conviction, drawing his attention back to her. “I love you, Killian Jones. Whether the Darkness likes it or not, I am not leaving.” She grew more confident when he seemed to listen, drawing closer to him, her hand drawing up his arm and resting against his chest. “I know your heart, I know you’re still there. Push the voices away. It’s just the three of us here - you, me, and Alice.”

Killian let out a deep breath, stepping away from her, Emma’s hand dropping. “I don’t know what’s happening, Swan,” he confessed, biting down hard at his lip. He squeezed his eyes shut, massaging his forehead.

Emma looked on, worried and helpless, wondering what she could possibly do to help her fiancé. “Talk to me, tell me what is going on inside your head. Lean on me.”

Killian nodded, pulling her closer. He hesitated, before holding his arms out to take his daughter, and letting out a relieved breath when Emma handed her over. He held Alice close, centering himself.

“I apologise for the things I said to you, Emma. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Emma nodded, wordlessly accepting his apology. But she had to know. ”Did you mean any of it? Do you really think- do you think that I kept things from you? That I tricked you into falling in love with me?” Her questions slipped out one after another, her insecurity rearing its ugly head.

Killian immediately pulled back, his hook resting on her waist. “No, absolutely not! I was- They were senseless words said in spite, my love. I was being an arse, and I’m sorry.” A beat later, he added, “I never meant for those words to come out, Emma. It- I was just so angry, I was hurt. And in that moment, I wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me.”

Emma swallowed thickly, not allowing him to notice the fear she felt building inside, painting a smile on her face instead. “It was the Darkness, Killian. It wasn’t you. I’ve seen this before, I’ve seen the way it corrupts and destroys. We need to get rid of it, once and for all.”

-/-

Present day: Camelot

It had taken Killian and Alice a week to reach Camelot by foot. He couldn’t use his magic, and Alice had never tried using hers. While it had given them plenty of time to talk and for Killian to get to know his daughter again, each day was agonising as they both feared for Emma’s life. Neither of them could understand why Gothel would want Emma, but the longer it took them to get rid of the Darkness, the worse their imaginations became. It had come to a point where neither of them spoke about what was happening to Emma; once again, she had sacrificed herself for Killian and Alice. Talking about it did nothing to relieve their guilt.

“Have you met this Merlin fellow before?” Killian asked, turning to Alice.

“Well, sort of. A very long time ago, we heard a rumour of an ancient sorcerer who could destroy the Darkness. But after a couple of months of research, we grew tired. It had been ten years at that point, I think, since you had been gone. It was a difficult year, for Mama. I was a hellion during my late adolescence,” Alice said, making Killian chuckle.

Another good thing about the time he had spent with Alice? He was slowly beginning to let go of his guilt and enjoy learning new tidbits of information about his daughter’s life.

“I’m sure if anyone could have handled it, Emma could have.”

“You’re not wrong. But that did deter her from looking for a way to get rid of the Darkness. Perhaps, if we had kept looking, we could have been reunited sooner.” Alice shot him a tight smile, before looking down, remorseful.

Killian couldn’t have his daughter blaming herself in any way. He stopped her, grasping her shoulders with hand and hook, waiting patiently for her to meet his eye. “Listen to me, Starfish. You have nothing to feel upset about. Things happened the way they were bound to happen. Emma made a decision to be a mother first. If I were in her place, I would have done the same thing.”

Alice shook her head, pushing Killian away, her arms crossed petulantly. “This is all my fault. This started because you wanted to rescue me from that tower. Maybe I was better off-”

“No!” Killian snapped, making Alice jump. He wouldn’t blame her; even when she had been a child, he had never raised his voice at her, let alone as an adult. “You need to stop blaming yourself. That is far too heavy a burden to carry on your shoulders, love. Gothel trapped you in that tower, and nothing you could have said or done would have stopped either me or Emma from saving you. You’re our daughter - and that is what you do for your family, Alice. So, don’t you dare think we would be better off. You saved me from a life of a pointless pursuit for revenge, you were there for Emma all those years I was gone. I probably never would have met Emma if it weren’t for you. I owe everything to you, my darling.” He smiled, drawing her into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head. “Enough with such talk. Let us get to Merlin.”

Another fifteen minutes of walking led father and daughter to a dilapidated bridge, both of them looking around concerned and confused. The more they ventured into Camelot, the more they were starting to realise that there was no one there; everything in Camelot seemed to be broken down, vines and shrubbery overgrown on the buildings. Everything looked abandoned, not like the thriving city Killian had come to expect.

“Are you sure this is the right place, Starfish?” Killian asked, helping her over a large, fallen pillar.

“Aye,” she said, jumping to the ground with a grunt. “At least, I think so. This is Camelot.”

“And this is where Merlin is supposed to be?” Killian asked with a scoff. “It looks like he hasn’t been here for a while.”

“Looks can be deceptive, Captain Jones,” a man’s voice spoke from behind them.

Killian and Alice whirled around, both of them drawing their cutlasses out and pointed them at the man’s throat. He seemed oddly calm, smiling at them despite the threat. Killian regarded him curiously: he was dressed in brown and gold robes, his arms at his sides and looking at them pleasantly, as if his life wasn’t being threatened. Killian could only think of one person who could be that brave.

“Merlin,” he declared, his sword still held pointed at the wizard.

“Indeed. Now, if you could be so kind as to lower your weapons…”

Killian and Alice complied, sheathing their weapons. But Killian couldn’t shake the wariness he felt. “What did you mean, ‘looks can be deceptive?’” Killian’s eyebrow raised questioningly at the wizard.

If possible, Merlin’s grin grew wider and he waved his hand. Killian and Alice gasped at their surroundings melted away like candle wax, the decrepit area replaced by a thriving town square, people milling around them, vendors selling their wares.

Killian and Alice gaped as they saw all the people - Killian could not wrap his head around the display of magic. Just a moment ago, the place had been completely empty and neglected.

“Just a simple glamour to keep out unsavory characters,” Merlin assured, his hands clasped in front of him. “Queen Guinevere had it put up when she formed the kingdom with Ser Lancelot,” he informed them.

Killian was taken aback; all the stories that he had heard in the Land without Magic, King Arthur was the ruler of Camelot, and Lancelot was just a knight. “What about King Arthur?”

Merlin sighed, shaking his head. “Arthur...Well, he was nothing but a disappointment. Thankfully, our queen recognised it and made sure the people did not suffer from his obsession and neglect.” He clapped his hands together, making father and daughter stare at one another doubtfully. “However, you are here for a different reason, aren’t you?”

Killian shared a look with Alice before he stepped forward. “Perhaps there is somewhere else for us to speak, mate? Somewhere private, maybe?”

-/-

Present: Enchanted Forest

Emma let out an agonising scream, straining heavily in her bonds, as Gothel’s newest creation wreaked havoc on her. The witch had been torturing Emma for the past week, injecting her with different concoctions, exploiting the Darkness in her to make her weaker. For so long, she had been able to manage having the Darkness be a part of her, had resisted using her magic for this very reason. Every time she had used her magic, it had been painful. It had taken her a year or two to get used to the Darkness and to train herself to draw from the light magic only. It had been fairly easy, there was hardly any dark magic in her. But she had not accounted for the Darkness to draw power from the light magic, never accounted for its growth.

The more the Darkness grew in her, the weaker she had become. She hadn’t noticed it all until a year ago when she had found Merlin. He had noticed the growing Darkness in her, he had been the one to tell her of her fate; he had also told her that there was no way for them to separate the dark and light magic in her. They exist as one and would be destroyed as one. Perhaps, if you had come to me sooner, he had said. He had been the one to tell her Killian would be the only other person who would be able to remove just the Darkness. It had originally been a part of him, and would thus go back to him, leaving her light magic behind. Theoretically, that would be the outcome. She had almost tested that theory out, before Alice had come back.

Unfortunately for Emma, Gothel had learnt her secret as well. She had been injecting Emma with different potions to activate the Darkness in her. The weaker Emma grew, the less resistant she could be to Gothel’s magic. She intended to get Emma as weak as she possibly could, before Gothel forced Emma to reveal the plan to get rid of the Darkness.

For the past week, Emma had been confident that she would be able to make it. Until today, Emma could feel the Darkness take root. She could feel the pain in every cell of her body, as if she was burning from within. It was unbearable, and Emma couldn’t help but cry out. She had almost given up, almost begged Gothel to make it stop - but she refused to give the witch that satisfaction. She was stronger than that - she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. Her parents had faced death with dignity; they might have been defeated, but they had their integrity. If Emma had to die, she would prefer to have her integrity intact. It was all she had left of her parents.

“My, my, aren’t you the stubborn one,” Gothel spat, wrapping her hand around Emma’s throat and squeezing. “But you are so weak now, Emma. You’re no match for my magic.”

“Do whatever the hell you want. You can never stop the Darkness from being destroyed.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. You’re going to tell me exactly what your plan is, and I’m going to make certain you lot rue the day you met me.”

-/-

20 years ago: Enchanted Forest

Killian and Emma had managed to set up camp at a riverbed. He caught them some fish, despite not feeling hungry, and Emma built a fire. Alice, now awake, watched everything they did with rapt attention, and she even helped Killian catch fish, jumping with joy when she first felt the water lapping at her feet, the smaller fish tickling her as they swam past. Killian silently enjoyed her carefreeness, her heart soaring at her happiness. This was all he wanted for her - but he had never anticipated the price would have been so steep. He knew what needed to be done, now. He had no control over this Darkness. He was weak, he had succumbed to it before in the past, and he had let it take over today. He could not imagine what would happen when he was not strong enough to pull back. He had seen the way it had wrecked Baelfire’s family, seen what the Darkness had turned Rumplestiltskin into.

He did not want that for his family. He pulled out the magic bean he had been carrying with him for centuries, having stolen it from Pan on his very last visit to Neverland. He had held on to it in hopes that he would use it once he had freed Alice. But he needed to get away from here, where the temptation was always there. Nothing would be able to stop him from sinking, not even his family.

He had heard of the Land without Magic from Baelfire; he would use the bean to go there. He would make sure he did not have his memories, that he would have nothing that would bring him back here. Not until Emma had found a cure to this plague. She would understand his reasons, she had to. Killian could not handle being here, he did not want to fight against the Darkness for a second longer than he had to. And if he went to the Land without Magic, he wouldn’t have to.

Once the fish was caught, cooked, and consumed, Alice promptly fell asleep again. That was good, he decided. He would not be able to tell Alice goodbye; he couldn’t watch her cry again. He had hurt her enough.

“Killian?” Emma called out, pulling him away from his thoughts. “Is everything alright? Is it- is the Darkness speaking to you again?” she asked, worry evident in her tone.

He smiled at her half-heartedly, grabbing her right hand in his own, fiddling with the green stone ring on her finger. He remembered the night she had told him the story about it, about how her mother had stolen the ring from her father, and how Prince David found Snow White, and how they fell in love. He wanted something like that for them. He wanted True Love. He wanted to believe that they would find each other again, no matter how long it took.

“No, darling. Just my own thoughts that are keeping me awake.”

“Do you want to talk about it? After all, aren’t married people supposed to share their burdens?” Emma teased, smiling coyly at him.

“Oh, Swan,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him. Emma snuggled into his body, pressing her nose to his neck, exhaling softly. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Jones.”

He closed his eyes, revelling in the moment, burning it to his memory. He needed just a moment, where everything was alright. He had finally managed to free his child, and he was engaged to the woman he loved. If it weren’t for the Darkness, this would be the best moment of his life; he wanted to pretend that it was. Just for a moment.

So he did, but he pulled away the next. “I need to talk to you, Emma.”

Emma pursed her lips, staring at him seriously. “Why do I get the feeling that I won’t like what you are about to say?”

“Oh, you will most surely hate it. But I-”

“Don’t say it,” she cut him off. “Don’t do it. Whatever you are thinking of - don’t.”

He sighed deeply, reaching for her hand, but she pulled away. She eyed him warily, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. “You don’t get to hold my hand and break my heart, Killian.”

“Dammit, Emma. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m doing this for you,” Killian snapped, standing up and starting to pace. “I need to leave, get far away from here. I am not strong enough to control this. I will descend much deeper into the Darkness, and I cannot come out of it. I will hurt you and Alice. I don’t want that.”

“What about what we want?” Emma whispered, eerily calm. “What about what I want? I want you to stay, and fight this. You have us, lean on us.” She stood up too, her eyes glassy with tears, her teeth biting the inside of her cheek.

“I can’t, Emma. Please, don’t make me. I can’t fight. I will fail, and I don’t want that. I don’t want this Darkness. I never should have taken the Dagger.” Killian could hear the desperation in his own voice.

Emma let out a long, shuddering breath. “What do you want to do?” she asked, after a long silence.

And so he told her, every detail of his plan laid out in front of Emma. He could practically see how every word out of his mouth broke her heart a little bit more. But she let him talk and listened attentively. She didn’t say a word, not until he was done.

“You’ll be in this Land without Magic, and you will not have any of your memories, is that right?” she asked softly, her eyes trained on the ground.

He waited a beat, hoping she would look up at him. But when it became evident that she wouldn’t, he replied with a simple ‘Aye.’

She took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, nodding to herself. She finally looked him in the eye, her gaze sharp and determined, every bit the stubborn, strong woman he had fallen in love with. “I will get the answer to this dilemma, and I will come for you. I will find you.” Her words were confident and firm. Before he could thank her, however, she cut him off. “Do not think for one moment that this doesn’t break my heart.”

He swallowed thickly, knowing that there was only one thing left to you. “I need to leave now. Before Alice wakes up.”

Emma’s brows pulled together, and he could sense her anger. “You’re not even going to tell your daughter goodbye?” she demanded.

“I can’t do it, Emma. She will be devastated, she will make me stay. I can’t allow that to happen.”

She stared at him quietly, her rage radiating off of her in waves, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring. “You are a coward, Killian Jones,” she declared.

He hung his head in shame, moving toward his sleeping daughter, kneeling beside her. His throat was thick with tears, his heart hurt simply thinking about leaving her. He had never been so far from her - now, not only would he be in another realm, he would have no memory of her. It was for the best, though. It had be.

He squeezed his eyes shut, brushing Alice’s hair away from her forehead, pressing the lightest of kisses there, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. He took her in for a moment, knowing that he would miss watching her grow up. Just a few years, he told himself. You will see her in a few years.

“You don’t have to leave, Killian.” Emma’s soft voice floated through the air. “You could stay.”

Killian got up, taking one last look at his daughter before he turned to Emma. “Have you come up with a way to replace my memories in the Land without Magic?” he asked her, ignoring her statements.

She sighed, clearly still angry with him, but nodded. “I can modify your existing memories, I can store the real ones in a Dreamcatcher.”

“Let us do this, then.”

-/-

Present: Camelot

“This is yours?” Killian asked, tracing the hilt of Excalibur, Merlin’s name etched on the blade. It looked just like the Dark One’s dagger, only much longer and with an end missing. But Merlin explained that as well - how he had forged Excalibur, how the sword was broken by the first Dark One, how the Dark One had murdered his love, Nimue. How he tethered the Darkness to the Dagger.

The Darkness hissed at that, screaming at Killian to destroy the wizard and ravage Camelot, to let it free. He was thankful for the cuff preventing him from doing any magic, because he was certain he would have given in. He could hear the whispers from the Dagger, driving him insane.

“Yes,” Merlin answered. “Now you know everything you need to. We need to hurry, rid the world of this Darkness. Once and for all.”

“What about Gothel?” Alice asked. “What if she decides to stop us?”

“She will need to go through me, then,” Killian piped up, his jaw clenched tight. “Where do we need to go to find this Promethean flame?” he asked, addressing Merlin.

“It’s not too far, but I need to warn you. This is your battle, Killian. The Darkness will try everything to convince you not to do this. You will either win, or it will take over you, forever. There can be no cuff stopping you from using your magic,” Merlin warned. “This is ancient magic, more powerful than you could ever imagine. You did not have to face its true extent for decades, if what you say is true.”

“Aye, I understand.” Killian had made up his mind - after everything his daughter and Emma had sacrificed for him, he needed to step up. He had to face everything he had run away from, and he needed to start with the Darkness.

“Papa, perhaps we should talk about this?” Alice suggested, looking vexed at the task ahead of them. “Couldn’t I do this?�� she asked Merlin.

“No, Starfish. It is my turn to take care of you now. I need to face my demons. And I will,” Killian vowed. He turned to Merlin. “Tell me everything I need to do, and I will do it.”

-/-

Present Day: Enchanted Forest

Emma panted heavily, her wrists sore from the constant friction against the shackles, feeling weak and useless as Gothel used her vile magic to delve into her mind. It was the worst torment, feeling a strange presence in her mind, moving through her thoughts and memories, invading her. It was a great violation, one that left her sick to her stomach. No matter how much she tried to resist, Gothel’s magic was stronger than Emma’s.

If there was any light magic left in her, it was hindered by the shackles she wore or was buried deep under layers of dark magic. Emma wanted to cry; her light magic had been the only constant in her life, and for it to be violated and corrupted, hurt in innumerable ways. She had never thought there could exist a person so cruel, a person who understood how precious natural magic was and could still inflict such horrors on another, like Gothel was.

She had tried so hard, for so long, to fight. But she had lost all ability to - and if she was being honest with herself, all will to. Emma was tired of being strong. She had finally been broken, and she did not have the fight left in her. She knew that was what Gothel wanted, and she had tried so hard not to give the witch that satisfaction - but she couldn’t hold on anymore.

Emma closed her eyes, tears running down the corners of her eyes, and she gave complete control of herself to Gothel. The Darkness had won.

-/-

20 years ago: Enchanted Forest

Emma gave the Dreamcatcher to Killian, not able to bring herself to take his memories. He understood, knowing that what he had already asked of her was a great enough price. She could not believe what Killian was about to do. She was certain that it was the Darkness in him that had made him so paranoid and so selfish. She would have fought him on his decision, if she had been talking to Killian alone. But the Darkness was unpredictable, and she could understand Killian’s fear. She might not support his decision, but she could at least understand where he came from.

She stood to the side, as she watched him perform the spell to transfer his memories on to the Dreamcatcher once he had crossover to the other realm. She still had him here with her, for a few moments at least. She fiddled with her mother’s ring for a moment before she took it off all together. Emma approached Killian, both of them smiling shakily at each other.

“My pirate,” she whispered fondly, looking up at him, her eyes roaming over every inch of his face, etching him into her memory. “It’s almost time, isn’t it?”

“Aye. Emma. I am sorry, love.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek softly, looking at her with a kind of broken tenderness that made her gut clench.

She pressed her mother’s ring in his palm, shocking him. He stared at her, his lips moving wordlessly. “I just thought - Well, you gave me a ring. It felt right, to give you my mother’s. It’s a promise, I guess. And- We never got to the wedding, technically, and I expect that once you come back. But until then….” She trailed off, closing his fingers around the ring.

“Until then,” he vowed, softly, but with great conviction.

She nodded, swallowing hard at the lump in her throat. It was useless, though, as tears welled heavy in her eyes. She clutched the lapel of his greatcoat tightly, pulling him down to her. She pressed their lips together, kissing him with everything she had, wet and desperate, their breaths mingling every time they pulled back for air. She was loathe to end it, biting down on his lip. Killian was the one to pull away, his hand on her shoulder, both of them breathing heavily.

He pulled the Dagger from inside his jacket, handing it to Emma with a trembling hand. “Hold on to this for me, aye?”

Emma took the Dagger with both hands, her thumb tracing his name etched in the metal. “There’s still time to change your mind.”

“Swan.”

“I know...I - I don’t know how long it will be until I see you again. What if I never find a way to save you? You’re immortal, I am not.”

Killian nodded, his eyes serious and unwavering. “I know, love. And I think I know a way to prevent that.”

“What?” she asked, curious. He hesitated, looking at her with a strange, apologetic look in his eyes. “What is it?” she demanded, pulling away from him completely.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I couldn’t think of another way,” he said, sounding helpless.

“What do you-”

But before she could finish the sentence, he released a burst of magic her way. Emma gasped, feeling the Darkness hit her, the force of it sending her flying. She felt her magic flare up to fight against the invading power, the heavy, foul magic pushing its way through. Emma could feel it flow through her veins, her entire body unbearably hot. She could hardly move, laying slumped against a tree.

Emma gaped at Killian, the betrayal causing bile to rise in her throat, tears of anger threatening to fall. He looked remorsefully at her, his heartbreak apparent on his features.

“I am so sorry, Swan,” he called out. He threw the bean to the ground, the portal opening up immediately. “I love you. This was the only way I could make sure we see other again.”

Emma choked on a sob, feeling breathless and crippled, watching as Killian walked through the portal, leaving her with a gaping hole in her chest, and whatever spell he hit her with, destroying both her heart and soul, in one fell swoop.

[sam-i-am-27]

Split

Summary: Felix just wanted a birthday with his friends. Mark just wanted to go home and not bother anyone. Instead of getting their wishes, they and Ethan are kidnapped by a strange man in a doctor’s outfit and a German accent.

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: Kidnapping, Nudity Implication, Urine, Abuse, Crying

Yes, this is an AU of the movie Split. 

At the party, there were almost a dozen teenagers gathered around one boy with bleached blonde hair and the beginnings of a thick, curly beard. All of them were belting at the tops of their lungs a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ as they stared at a chocolate cake decorated with the same words. All of them seemed happy, except one. This boy was sitting over to the side of the party, looking out the window and ignoring all the celebrations.

Ten minutes later, the boy was still sitting there, now on his phone and talking to someone quietly. The birthday boy walked up to his mother and best friend, shrugging. “Mercy invites always end up like this.”

“It was your idea to invite everyone in your editing class,” his mother said.

“What? That’s literally the rudest thing anyone could do, especially since she has no social media that I know of and because of that, I had to ask her either up-front or not at all.”

His mother smiled. “I’m proud that you think that way, Felix… I hope my pride is in the right place.”

“I mean, Mark’s one of those people who’s a bit of a rebel. He yells at teachers a lot, and consequently, he gets detention a lot.”

“What a big word, Felix!” his friend commented.

“Shut up, Ethan,” Felix said, giving his friend a playful punch in the shoulder. “Maybe she can uber?”

“No, we’re not leaving until she’s got a visible ride outside the door. And that’s final,” his mother said. They quieted down as Mark got off the phone and approached the three.

“Yeah, uh, my uncle’s stuck in heavy traffic and won’t be here for another three hours or so. I’ll be fine waiting by myself. Or even better, I’ll take the bus” he said.

“You’re not taking a bus. We’ll drive you home, it’s fine,” Felix’s mother smiled softly. “This may be the last time I get to drive you around since Felix has almost saved up enough for his own car!”

Felix scowled at his mom, his ears growing a bit red as Ethan hid a smirk behind his hand.

“Uh, no. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine!” Felix’s mom said.

“All you’ll be missing if you don’t come is a weird music choice somewhere between Bowie and Cardi B,” Felix said.

Without much choice, Mark followed the family out of the establishment and into the parking lot, lagging behind a little since he didn’t really know either Felix or Ethan. They reached the car and slowly began piling Felix’s coutless presents into the trunk. As Felix and Ethan piled into the back seats of the car, Mark helped Felix’s mother with the leftover food and gifts.

“Thank you, Mark. I got the rest,” she said, giving him a warm smile. Not wanting to argue, he got into the shotgun seat and waited quietly. In the back, he could hear Felix and Ethan laughing about whatever videos they had found posted by their classmates. There was a thud as the trunk closed and instinctively, Mark glanced at the side-view mirror to see if something was coming up behind him.

There was nothing there so when the door next to him opened, he pulled on his seat belt. As he was about to fasten it into the lock, he glanced back into the mirror. Boxes of cake and pizza were splattered all over the ground. Birthday gifts were strewn about the food.

As slow as possible, Mark turned in his seat, letting the seat belt fall back into place. In the place where Felix’s mom was supposed to be was a middle-aged man wearing a long white lab coat, rubber gloves and spotless teal scrubs. His hair was mostly hidden by one of those weird hats but a few strands of green were poking out around his square-rim glasses.

He sighed in annoyance, pulling out a green cloth, wrapping it around his index finger and scrubbing the little hula lady atop the dashboard. He then began to meticulously pick up little pieces of trash and place them into the cupholder.

Felix and Ethan’s laughs subsided as they finally realized that Felix’s mother had been replaced.

“Sir, I think you have the wrong car,” Felix said.

The Doctor didn’t say anything, only completing his doctor-look with a surgical mask. Mark’s mind raced a million miles in less than half-a-second. He was either protecting his identity or was protecting himself from something airborne. Either way, this wasn’t the situation he needed to be in and he needed to escape right now.

The question was answered within seconds, he had locked the doors and was spraying some sort of chemical into both Felix and Ethan’s faces, making them cough for a few seconds and then pass out cold.

Mark’s world tunneled. Definitely not a situation he needed to be in. Everything was going in slow-motion, the only sounds were Mark’s own heart beat and the annoyed sighs of the Doctor as he continued to clean the dashboard with his yellow cloth.

Not daring to breath, Mark reached up and grasped the door handle with two fingers. He needed to be as quiet as possible about this as possible… the Doctor didn’t even know he existed yet…

The sound of it unlocking and the sudden beeping was as loud and sudden as a gunshot. The Doctor whipped around, surprised at the noise, and looked Mark dead in the eyes. In that instant, Mark knew there was no escape for him.

He sent a pleading look to the Doctor He wasn’t supposed to be here! He was supposed to be on a bus heading home! Tears began to roll down his face. Please…

The Doctor only scowled, pulled the mask on again and held the spray can up to Mark’s face.

A long hallway filled with pipes and dim lights… He was being rolled somewhere…The squeak of metal on metal…

Where was he?

Something soft and warm…

He opened his eyes a crack and saw Ethan and Felix huddled together on a single cot, breathing rapidly and looking absolutely terrified beyond words.

When Felix saw him awake, he tapped Ethan’s arm quickly.

Neither of them said anything as Mark sat up, his stomach sore from sleeping on it for however long he was out. In front of him was a large metal door surrounded by polished dark wood. The metal was rusty but smoothed down so there was no chance of a hand-hold; same with the wood.

“We woke up in here,” Felix said as Mark turned to look at the small, pure bathroom. A toilet, a shower, an oval mirror and a sink. Everything inside was blinding white except a single yellow tulip sitting in a glass on the sink.

He pushed himself up and took deep breath.

“What the fuck is going on? What are we doing here? Mark, do you know what happened to my mom?”

“Shh. He’s out there,” Ethan whispered.

“Do you know what happened to my mom?” Felix repeated desperately.

A door closed loudly outside of the one they were looking at. They all began to breathe heavily, at the sound, keeping their eyes fixed on the door. Lights began to turn on as the door handle turned and the door itself was opened by the same man in a white lab coat. He was carrying fold-up wooden chair and didn’t say a word as unfolded the chair, keeping his annoyed expression focused on the three.

Before he sat down, he pulled out the same yellow rag and wiped the seat clean of any and all dirt, folded it up into a neat little square and put it into his pocket. He folded his arms and stared at them. He glanced over at Ethan, who was obviously the most uncomfortable, rubbing his thumb rapidly on his thigh.

The Doctor stood, pointing at Ethan.

“I choose you first,” he said in a heavy German accent. He folded up the chair with a snap and brought it into the back room. In the short amount of time he was given, Mark examined the room. Dirty cement walls, a large clothing rack… and not much else from where he was sitting.

The Doctor returned just as Felix was beginning to comfort Ethan again. He walked to Ethan deliberately.

“Zis vill only be a minute,” he said, grabbing Ethan and ripping him from Felix. Both yelled in agitation, but Felix was at least smart enough not to try and take Ethan back, falling back to screaming into his hands from the cot. Ethan managed to pry himself from the Doctor’s grip long enough to run to Mark.

Mark took his face in his hands and muttered, “Pee on yourself,” just before the man got ahold of Ethan again and forcefully carried Ethan out the door. Ethan tried in vain to grab the door itself, but received a sharp slap in retaliation. His screams still echoed in the small room even after the door was closed. They could hear him whimpering, pleading for the Doctor not to do… something.

Felix ran to the door and began to pound desperately, screaming for the Doctor to release his friend. “No! No! Open the door!”

The Doctor suddenly heeded his cries, throwing the door open and carrying in Ethan. He set him down between the two cots and growled angrily, shaking his wrists in attempt to get something off of his hands. He leaned against the door and yelled between his teeth, almost pained by whatever was on his hands. With one last, growl, he slammed the door shut, leaving a sobbing, urine-covered Ethan, being comforted by Felix.

“He wanted me to dance… the outside door is locked,” Ethan muttered, stumbling quietly to the bathroom.

Felix let him go, understanding the need to shower off everything that had just happened, physically and metaphorically. He took a shaky breath. “We’re okay… we’re okay…”

He went into the bathroom to help Ethan, leaving Mark on the cot, breathing just as shakily, tears slowly forcing their way out of his eyes. This couldn’t be happening… it couldn’t…

Uh... yeah! 

Taglist is open and if I have you on general taglist and haven’t tagged you, just let me know! I’m an idiot and don’t keep a list.

Reblogs are accepted you’ve all seen the posts...

Please, if there any tw tags I need to add, let me know immediately! I put as many as I thought were needed but if there any more that need adding, let me know please!

Have a good day!

Taglist: @nightmarejasmine

[taurus-annie-main]

Four Leaf Clover

Summary : Following your mother’s mischievous deeds, she is cursed to have her first born child bear the Lover’s Bad Luck Curse. That first born child happens to be you. After a slew of unfortunate happenings with boyfriends, you’re determined to find a cure and by chance, your mission brings you the library where you meet an annoying librarian who says he has good luck.

You were cursed, yes cursed. Well, to be completely honest your mother was cursed, but at the end of the day it affected you.

Before stashing her cauldron away for the frying pans, your mother was notable witch and on one fateful day she happened to cross the wrong witch. As a result her first born was cursed with Lover’s Bad Luck. Yes, you.

And what is Lover’s Bad Luck one may wonder?

In simple terms, all the men you dared to love get bad luck. Your first boyfriend, that poor soul, lost his expensive new phone to a good friend’s aquarium. Now, you hadn’t known of your curse then, but upon hearing of your boyfriend’s tale of bad luck, your mother finally decided to divulge in you the tale of the ‘curse’.  Stubborn as you were, you brushed off your mother’s words as a joke but in the next day you’d met your boyfriend, he somehow managed to lose his diamond Pokemon cards in a chance incident. You decided to actually heed your mother’s words.

Like all people you weren’t perfect and so, in college you tried again in the hopes that maybe the curse had forgotten. In a week of being with your college beau, he’d lost the winning lottery ticket to a prize of £2.3 million and broke his ankle whilst trying to dig through the trash for the missing ticket.  You quickly ended that relationship.

So now you lived a life of shunning away whatever male showed interest in you. At first it was hard because like most, you desire to be loved but you couldn’t risk whatever consequence the poor guy could encounter. There was enough blood on your hands.

You usually didn’t wander far from your home, the curse had made you somewhat of a disgruntled recluse, but the library had sent you a warning letter about the overdue books you had. And so, on a particularly grey day you made your way into the city library. You hadn’t been in there since your college days of essays and assignments, it was a better time.

The library wasn’t busy at this time of day, thankfully. Holding the two books you borrowed, you go straight to the desk, which of course is empty. You wait for a minute, hoping that the librarian would make their way out but realising you look quite like the idiot, you finally decided to ring the bell.

“One sec,” you heard a voice say.

Sticking to their word, the staff door swung open and a man walked out - you noted that he look too chirpy for such a dreary day - to be honest, everything about him seemed too chirpy, the blinding smile, obnoxious sweater and twinkling eyes. And then you realised it, he was kind of cute. Shit.

“How can I help you today?” he asked.

You looked down at his name tag, Baekhyun.

“Uh … I’m just here to return these books,” you cleared your throat and made a considerable effort not to look into his eyes.

“Alright, I’ll just scan them out for you,” he said, taking the books you’d laid out on the counter. He looked down at the cover and raised his eyebrows. “You’re into the occult?”

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

You were not about to confess that you spent half of your time reading occult books in the hopes of finding someway to reverse the curse. Although, your mother said she’d tried everything known to man and witch-kind, you weren’t about to give up no matter how much you felt like you should. You were young, the perfect age for a flowery romance and God forbid if you didn’t get one.

“Hmm, are you sure?” he asked, sneaking you a playful glance as he scanned the first book. “Actually, I think it’s kinda cool.”

You hummed in response, a subtle cue for him to drop it and just scan the book. However, this Baekhyun character seemed not catch your drift and carried on.

“My aunt used to be really into it. She used to make me and my sister wear good luck charms wherever we went,” he said. “I have no idea if it works though.”

“Cool,” you muttered, as your fingers tapped against the marbled surface.

“But I still wear it, it makes great - oh, these are overdue,” he said, squinting his eyes as he moved closer to the screen.

You dug your credit card out of your pants. “Sorry, I forgot to mention it. I’ll pay now.”

He pulled out a card terminal, and you quickly typed in your details. You needed to get out of this conversation, quick. His smile was too damn bright and face too cute when he smiled. You couldn’t risk him also dealing with your bad luck baggage.

The moment he’d said it was all done, you flashed him a toothless smile and bee-lined it straight out of the library.

You hadn’t wanted to, but the next week you found yourself walking up the grand steps leading up the library’s entrance. A new book had come in and it specialized in medieval remedies for curses. A glimmer of hope and yet it wasn’t the only thing the drew you to the building.

It was safe to say that you’d developed the small and annoying ‘itch’  to see the chirpy librarian. You weren’t going to talk to him, instead you’d just sneak the odd glance that you hoped would satisfy that ‘need’.

Having not seen the chirpy librarian at the counter, you decided to head over the history aisle. Those types of books were usually stored there. Turning the corner into the history aisle, you noticed that same head of dark hair and cherub features. You stood frozen for a moment until that is Baekhyun stopped filing the books and turned towards you, an airy smile blossoming on his face as he recognized you.

You offered him a small smile and made your way down the aisle. Your heart was hammering hard in your chest and tried to fight the heat tinging the tips of your ear. It was like meeting that boy you had a crush on in high school.  

“Lemme guess, you’re here for a book on the occult?” he said with a smirk dancing on his dainty features.  

You nodded. “You’re right.”

“So much for not being into the occult,” he said.“I think I know what book you’re looking for.”

You watched as he pulled a leather bound book, it looked as though it’d be through many hands. 'Foster’s book on curses.’ the title read.

“You’re right again,” you said.

He handed you the book. “I saw it come in and thought you might like it.”

At his words, what can only be described as butterflies flowered in you stomach. You tried your hardest to mentally stomp them out, so what if he’d thinking of you, the curse was still alive and well.

“Thanks,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. It was probably the most of you smiled in a good while.

[occasionalfics]

The Arrow and the Flame, xi

part x

Summary: Your punishment for stealing units sucks, but it could be worse. You help Yondu with his punishment, and then your father has some sneaky proposition that you don’t particularly like. 

A/N: This one is on the shorter end. I’m glad you’re all liking it though! I keep saying that, but honestly, it really means a lot. I’m getting close to finishing this story (I think), and it’s been requested that I write a Kraglin x reader story so that’ll probably come soon-ish. I’ve been thinking a lot about it and I’m excited to get into it!

Tags: @thewildomega @pitrymcbride @overwatchemporium

Words: 2,075

~~~

Three weeks went by slowly. Your father hardly looked at you. You didn’t know why he was so angry - or maybe he was embarrassed. But to that extent? It was a little much.

Your mother spoke to you only in official settings. She addressed you as Officer Ogord and called you to the top deck of the ship only when she absolutely had to. Maybe they were still trying to make a point to the crew, you figured. It just felt like they were blowing things out of proportion.

Your night shifts were relatively easy. Most of the time, the medical ward was empty. Occasionally there’d be an Officer fresh off of a heist with an open wound, and you’d rush out of an empty medical bed to wake the doctor on duty, but that was basically the extent of your job.

Most nights, though, you were alone. After the first few shifts, Yondu got in the habit of following you after dinner.

“Yer parents ain’t never said I had ta train in a trainin’ room,” he said with a shrug. He winked at you, stood in the middle of the room, and tried to find the perfect pitch to get the Yaka arrow to heed his command.

After a few hours, you’d drift to sleep, often times waking with Yondu pressed against you in one tiny bed or another. It wasn’t any more comfortable than the bunks, but at least you were almost always alone.

Toward the end of the third week of this routine, you were sitting on a bed, legs spread out in front of you, watching Yondu do what he did every night. “Have you had any luck?” you asked.

He whistled a bit higher than he had been, and the arrow jumped from his hand. You’d seen that happen before. It wasn’t as impressive as it had been the first couple of times.

“Not too much,” he said, gaze stuck on the metal in his hand.

“What’s Reyus been saying?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Not much.” He whistled again, this time longer than the last, but at the same pitch. The arrow hovered over his palm until his whistle stopped, and then it fell right back. “They don’ know much ‘bout Yaka metal. But I don’t neither.”

You cocked your head to the side and tried to watch his features in the dark. The bright light from the hallway was all that lit the room, but it was enough for you to see how disappointed he was. He didn’t want to be demoted. No one did. He wanted to control the arrow, to understand how it worked and to make his captain proud. You wanted that, too, to prove he was worth this whole mess. You knew he was. Your parents had to, too.

“What about Kraglin?” you asked. “He’s Dunker’s apprentice. Knows a lot about weapons.”

He looked at you. “No one but other Centaurians know what this is.” He rose his hand toward you. “None of’em know what to do to get it to work.”

You sighed. “I’m just sayin’, Kraglin knows his shit. Maybe he’d have an idea or something.”

He dropped his hand, the arrow tight in his fist. “He’s just a kid,” he said.

“He knows a lot more about blasters than I do and I’ve been around them my whole life.” You shifted so you were kneeling, then pushed yourself to the end of the bed. “Besides, what’s the harm in asking?”

“What if he don’ know nothin’?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Then he doesn’t know anything. We figure it out from there.”

He stared at you, his red eyes never leaving yours. After a couple of seconds, his face softened and he smiled. But he didn’t say anything. He whistled without looking away from you. The arrow rose from his palm, which he’d unfurled, and as he kept the tune, it went higher and higher. You watched it, rather than Yondu, as it pointed toward you but didn’t come close.

He gave a little burst of a whistle, and the arrow went flying. It zoomed past you, hit the wall, and ricocheted around the room. You ducked and covered your head as it clanked against the walls, causing sparks to flare and die out before they hit the floor. Then Yondu whistled in a lower tone and the arrow returned to him.

You slowly came out from your position and looked at him. “What the hell was that?” you asked, glancing at all the spots on the walls that were black and bent from impact.

“Just had a feelin’ is all,” he said with a shrug. Then he lifted the arrow to his line of vision and studied it. “Not a dang scratch.”

“How’d you do that?” you asked, moving to the end of the bed, holding onto the rails to keep from falling over.

“I told ya,” he said. “Just a feelin’.”

You shook your head. “Two minutes ago you had no idea how to make it move more than a couple of inches from your hand, Yondu,” you said. “Either you were lying to me then or you’re lying to me now.” You smirked to let him know you weren’t mad, just smarter than he was allowing himself to think. He still kept quiet, though, never looking away.

“Hey,” you said. “Maybe if you tell me, I’ll do something for you.” You winked at him.

Finally he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “‘S embarrassin’,” he said.

You leaned further forward and shrugged. “Then I definitely want to hear it.”

He sighed and looked at the floor. “I...was thinkin’...a you. Stopped focusin’ on gettin’ the dang thing in the air and thought ‘bout us figurin’ it all out. Together.”

You bit your lip and watched him for a few seconds. He didn’t move, so you got off the bed and went around to stand in front of him. He still didn’t look up. You stepped to him, pressing your hips against his, throwing your arms around his neck. That got his attention.

“You stopped using your head,” you said matter-of-factly. “Started using your heart. Maybe that’s the trick.”

His hands went to your hips, one flat against your pants and the other balled into a fist, keeping his arrow in place. His smile was devilish and crooked, and it sent shivers throughout your body. You could’ve had him then, but knew that if you’d gotten caught, you’d be in even more trouble than you already were. Sometimes you could get away with fooling around on the job, but not with your parents already so indignant.

You settled for making out as he leaned forward and kissed you, slowly at first. Then his tongue was on your lips, then against your tongue, and then they were battling for dominance. You leaned against him and felt his balled hand leave your side. A second later, hot metal was against your face, but it felt nice. His knuckles rested just below your cheekbone.

And then someone cleared their throat. It wasn’t you and it wasn’t Yondu. You would’ve felt it if it had been. You opened your eyes and pulled away from the kiss, then looked at the doorway to the room. Your father was staring at you with a straight glare in his eyes. He didn’t look happy, but he certainly didn’t look as angry as he had been.

“Officer Ogord,” he said. “Officer Udonta. Good to see you’re making things work with this new schedule.”

You nodded, wanting to look away to hide the blush you felt in your neck. But you couldn’t. Your Captain was addressing you directly.

“I wish you’d be paying more attention to your assignment, Officer Ogord, but I’ll allow this distraction on account of the room being empty.” He came into the room, stopping just a few inches from you and Yondu. “I have a proposition for the two of you. But I need you to swear to secrecy.”

You turned and felt Yondu’s hands fall from you. It was fine, you told yourself. It was respectful, with your Father right there.

“I swear,” you said with barely a hesitation.

Yondu looked at you, then at your father, then you again. You looked back and nodded.

He took a second, then went back to your father. “I swear,” he said.

Your father nodded, his mouth almost turning into a small smile. “Good. I have reliable word that there’s a certain artifact on Krylor waiting for us to take it.”

“Sounds pretty standard, Captain,” you said.

“Yes, well,” he said. “It’s not. It’s big. It’s worth a lot, and it’s hidden in a deep, dark cave. It’s said there are traps all over, and that no one has been able to find the artifact and collect it.”

“How much is it worth?” Yondu asked.

Your father smiled then. “A million units.”

Your eyes widened, and you almost fell forward. “A million?! Did I just year you say a million units?” you asked.

“You did, Officer,” he said with a nod. “So I need you two, Martinex, and that Kraglin kid for this assignment. He’s good with weapons and Dunker says the kid’s got a lot of fight in him. You two know him best. I need you to recruit him before dinner tomorrow.”

“What about Reyus?” you asked.

Your father shook his head. “Officer Cordor can’t be involved.”

“Why not?” you asked. Reyus was one of the most competent Officers you’d ever seen. Until Yondu had come along, they were your first choice for First Mate when you became captain. If anyone could get you in and out of a deadly cave for a million units, it was Reyus.

“That’s classified, Officer. Remember your place,” your father said.

You sighed and felt your brows furrow, even though you knew he was coming from his place as Captain, not your father, in his response.

“This mission can only involve me, the two of you, Martinex, and Kraglin,” he repeated. “Get the kid by tomorrow or I’ll extend your punishment,” he pointed at you, then turned to Yondu. “And I’ll shorten yours.”

In a fashion unlike your father, he turned on his heels and left without another word or glance. You were stunned. So stunned, in fact, that you didn’t realize you’d forgotten to ask about your mother until Yondu said something.

“That was weird.”

You nodded. “He’s never that secretive.”

“Maybe he don’t want anyone gettin’ in the way?” he asked.

You looked at him, but couldn’t figure out what to say. There was no excuse for your father’s odd behavior. There didn’t seem to be a good reason to deny good help from Reyus, and it was very bizarre that he was not including your mother in his plans. They were equals, you thought. They always planned assignments and heists and missions together.

“He doesn’t want Reyus there, but he wants Martinex,” you said. “He wants us and Kraglin, but not my mother?”

“Darlin’,” he said, “we ain’t in much of’a position to be questionin’ our captain.”

You took a second, but in the end you nodded. He was right, you realized. You didn’t like it - you were used to having some sway with your parents, but you’d gotten yourself into this situation in the first place.

“He never actually told us what we’d get out of the whole deal,” you said. “He just threatened to make this,” you gestured to the room in general, “longer. This isn’t like him.”

“Maybe so,” Yondu said. “We can figure it out as we go, but...if we wanna go back to normal, we gotta do what he wants.”

You wondered how that would go over with your mother. But more than that, you knew: “I’m gonna have to get him alone to ask questions. He won’t answer anything around Martinex especially. But maybe he’ll tell me what’s going on if I can talk to him without anyone around.”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘no’, though,” he said with a smirk.

You shrugged. “You’re right. We have to do this if we want things back the way we like them. Doesn’t mean I don’t have questions.”

He stepped close to you again, brought you close with one hand, and kissed you. It was just a peck, but it still made you warm anyway. “I like you sneaky,” he said.