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itstheghostofmypast · 4 months ago

Text

S♡CKER P♡NCH

Boxer AU Choi San x Reader

Summary: No labels, no commitment, no real relationship. A lone wolf who could throw anyone across the ring until his love for boxing shifted to the love for his little daisy.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Making out, language.

Word Count: 2.1 K

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I'd like to blame @edenesth for sending me that one real- man. I'm weak for this man.

After a deep groan the boxer sighed, staring up at the bright light of the ring, the world around him blurring into twos and threes, hazy and foggy, the world around him turning into distant memory but the persistent, ear piercing ringing in his head had his conscious hold onto some form of reality.

A familiar voice caught his attention, his eyes slowly trailing to the fuzzy shadow, the sweet voice cutting through the loud ringing. A muffled whisper was all he caught before blacking out,

“Sannie!? Wake up!”

The thumping at the back of his skull pulled him out of his blackout, slowly opening his eyes, staring up at the dark shaky ceiling - oh, he was in the van. Did Wooyoung pick him up? Did he carry him? Closing his eyes, he sighed, the memories match he had won, not one of his finest ventures. In fact, he had been so distracted that he really did think he was going to lose, mid way on the bench he had asked Wooyoung if he could tap out, only for his manager/best friend to whisper back, “Ya dumb? Ya gotta win this to prove to her you're a strong one! Get her that ring you want with tonight's money!”

The ring, that's what, led his large best friend back into the ring with a new sense of determination. Sure, images of her flashing across his mind, trying to focus on nothing but her, especially the last memory of her, when she was the more upset with him than he had ever seen. He knew he had to make it up to her. He had to prove to her that he wasn't weak. He was part of the big leagues now, and he knew what he was doing. And he did, with one final kick the man had won, stumbling back when Wooyoung braced him steady-temperedily with a hand on the back of the boxer, declaring his victory. It was after that when he completely blacked out, somehow hearing the melody of his daisy.

“Instead of yapping at me, tend to him would ya?” The driver mumbled, earing a scoff from the woman behind the curtain, ripping it open so she could glare at him, “This is all your fault!”

“No, this is your fault.” Backrest the brakes at the stop sign he turned his head to glare at her, “If you didn't challenge his capabilities-”

“I'm his doctor! He was already exhausted! I wasn't challenging him! I was giving him MEDICAL ADVICE!”

“I'm his manager! I know what he can and can not do and-”

“HE HAD A DEATH WISH!”

“SO WHAT!?”

“I LOVE HIM, YOU BASTARD!”

The loud horn blaring behind them had Wooyoung sprint into action, stepping on the gas as the whole van shook, causing ; her to lose her balance and topple over and to land in a firm pair of arms, that tightened around her when Wooyoung's rash driving had him hopping lane to lane to find a quick pit stop.

“Slow down, Woo.” He mumbled, voice hoarse and heavy, possibly due to the fatigue, though his words were firm, “There's no need to rush, I feel fine.” Of course, his best friend was rushing to find some form of place to stay, he was worried about him, sure they had her, a certified nurse, but she couldn't do much due to her limited resources.

“Are you sure?” The driver glanced at his rear view mirror, only to shake his head and sigh at the sight of the two love-struck fools staring at each other like that. It made him sick. To think he had seen this man throw men bigger than him around the ring, and now he was all putty in a frail, lousy tempered woman's arms. Rolling his eyes at the lack of response, he reached back to pull the curtain, deciding to give them time to ‘make up’ .

“You came?” San whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against her, trying to ignore the sting of the cut on his lower lip.

“Of course I did, you big dummy.” She mumbled, slowly pulling back and helping him recline against the DIY back rest they had made with an old cushion, “I was mad at your stupidity, didn't mean I wanted to leave you unattended when you'd get hurt.”

“Well, isn't my daisy a work of art.” Mumbled he reached over to gently grasp her hand, drawing gentle circles with his thumb on the back of her soft, smaller hand, “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. You guys pay me for that.”

He pouted at her statement, sure it was true but that's because Wooyoung had originally hired her, they weren't a couple back then.

And even after the small mountain had constantly been expressing and hinting at his admiration for her, Wooyoung had insisted that the contract remain intact, which meant they needed to keep it professional.

Now, she was just saying this because of their lack of official titles- it was true, the boxer was head over heels for her, but was too afraid to take a step, what if he hurt her with his big calloused hands, or what if he crushed her with his brute being. It didn't matter what any fortune teller or shaman would claim, his Yin was much more suppressed because his choice of occupation- an occupation he was good at, an occupation he enjoyed, an occupation that helped him earn a living. One that he had used to get her a ring. Callbhim old fashioned, but he believed courting her for more than a year was enough. She deserved the proper treatment, one he'd gladly give her - now that he had convinced Wooyoung too.

“Yes but…you didn't need to come all the way there and-”

“Drop it.” She sighed, somewhat irritated by his romantic gestures, he'd do this often, be this tender with her, and then pull back as soon as she'd ask for something more, something that would make her bruised heart flutter.

Slowly, she got up, placing a hand on the roof to steady herself before making her way to the back of the van, grateful that he had not heard her confess her feelings for him to Wooyoung. Reaching for the cooler, she tipped over the lid, kneeling as she plucked out an icepack, a bottle of water, and an ice lolly.

He raised a brow at the choice of items she has returned with, “What's with the- ack!” He gagged at the intensity of the frozen treat hitting the back of his throat, hand instinctively reaching to grab the small end of the stick as he looked at her with an unpleasant expression Though it soon turned into a lopsided smirk when she sat between his spread out legs, frowning up at him and pressing the cold ice beside his eyebrow, mumbling an, “Idiot.”

His other arm looped around her waist, tugging her closer as he pulled out the lolly, “How'd you know I like pineapple?” He giggled pressing it to her lips, watching her slowly part her lips, taking in the treat as she maintained eye contact, watching his ears turn pink at the sight, his eyes widening in disbelief. Sure, they had flirted before but never like this.

The loud crunch caught his ears as she pulled back, with half the pop gone, as she licked her lips and frowned, “I was planning on having it later tonight.”

Whining at her, he pulled the mostly eaten treat, staring at what was left at the bottom before pulling it closer to inspect the bite marks, raising a brow at the sight, swallowing at the loss of romance. Okay, so she was still upset.

Just like that, the boxer had a wonderful idea, completely forgetting the third party present, currently eavesdropping on their conversation, or lack thereof. With one swift move, he bit into the remaining ice lolly, savouring the sweet taste before cupping her face and crashing his lips against hers.

A small squeak broke past her lips that were now occupied with his, her arms trailing up his chest to wrap around his neck, fingers caressing the base of his neck. He pulled her closer, palm flat on the small of her back as he used his other hand to hold her still, giving her a neck a little squeeze, tilting her head to have her part her lips, sharing the melted, sticky pineapple juice.

She pushed him away as she gasped for air, licking the remaining traces of the sugar off her swollen lips, staring at him with a hazed expression, matching his, much like his flushed face and heaving chest- the only difference was that he had that cocky smug look plastered on his handsome, bruised features, looking like a boy who had just won a race.

“I had to win tonight.” he whispered, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, hand leaving her neck, shoving it in his pocket to look for something, before pulling it out, “Had to get ya this, paid the deposit, have to give the rest tomorrow.”

She gasped at the small velvet box in his hand, glancing up at him then down at the box, her heart racing against time as she took it with shaky hands, flipping open the lid, blinking at the diamond .

“Oh Sannie…why would you-”

“I can't hold back anymore, daisy. You punched me in the heart the moment I fell into your lap that night.”

Her face flushed at the memory of the fateful night they had met, with her sitting at a bus stop post midnight. Waiting for the bus, when a bruised man stumbled onto the platform, the blood on his knuckles dripped onto the concrete. At first she had tried to ignore the giant man, but they way he was swaying left and right for some tugged the strings of her heart, having her let out an, “Are you alright, Sir?”

That night, he had fallen unconscious in his daisy's lap, forever in debt to her, forever in love with her. Next morning he woke up on a warm bed, all patched up and cozy, with her tending to him after bringing him breakfast- a moment of peace, before he had called Wooyoung who then hired her on the spot.

“You're so stupid San…you didn't have to get me a ring- you could've gotten hurt- I just- you fainted and-”

“I love you too…by the way.” He watched her fumble with her words, cutting her off as be referred to the confession of hers a while ago, giving her a closed eye smile when he slipped the ring on her finger, tossing the box somewhere across the van. Both unaware that the van had come to a stop, as he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the back of her palm.

“Kiss me.”

“Wha-” his words cut short as she grabbed his face, much like he had early, only with more force, squishing his plump cheeks, forcing him to pout. This only riled him up further as he gently pushed her onto her back, hovering over her, deepening the kiss, making sure she could feel all the love he had pent up inside for so long. Her lips curled into a smile at his response, hands trailing up his broad back, feeling every ripple of each muscle, her body turning warmer at the way he'd sigh against her mouth. His own hands gripped her by the waist, dragging her closer, chuckling at the little noises she was making. Both lost in bliss, both lost in one another.

“EXCUSE ME, MY VAN IS NO PLACE FOR YOUR NASTY BUSINESS!”

The screech had her push him off her, instantly shivering as the crisp air of the night layering her skin with goosebumps. Their breaths came out in puffs, panting like a pair of teenagers caught in the janitors closet.

“We weren't…doing a-anything.” She huffed, sitting up and glaring at the manager who just scoffed in response, “Mhmmm…I definitely didn't see his tongue shoved down your throat.”

Whining at his snarky response, she pouted at her newly declared lover who gave her a cute smile, one that had her resisting the urge to attack his glistening lips once more. San shook his head at Wooyoung and crawled out of the van, turning to his lady, reaching out for her to help her out of the van, much like he always did, only this time, he boldly wrapped a jacket around her shoulders, before pulling her closer into his side, walking towards the motel Wooyoung had brought them too.

“YAH! This better not become a common practice!” The shorter man yelled at the boxer who's laugh bounced in the dark of the empty night, pulling his source of love and warmth closer, smiling down at her, only to receive a shy smile in return.

Wooyoung watched his best friend walk into the other room behind his lover, waving bye before closing the door, this bastard should be grateful he got them a separate room, more importantly he should be grateful that he had texted her to come quick when San was having his ass handed to him, knowing if there was one sole motivator for the boxer, it was his little daisy.

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25

@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 2 years ago

Text

Treasure

Summary: Pirate Kol. What more do you need to know? I will say this is kind of heavily POTC based but in what world is that a bad thing? Oh... I also tossed a nice helping of yandere in here too. This one's for you Tumblr. || Kol Mikaelson x Siren!reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

Word Count: Uh... Nevermind.

Warnings: ALL OF THEM! Yandere content, blood, blood drinking, use of the w*nch word, torture, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, I don't know if steamy is the right word but I'll use it. Seriously, this is in no way a healthy relationship.

⛈️ STORY BEGINS BELOW 🌊

The tavern was, by no means, the proper place for a lady of your position. You should have been tucked safely in your bed, away from the riotous clamor of thieves, beggars, and assorted drunken knaves. Alas, you had chosen to spend your night among them nonetheless. For there was no better place in all the town to hear stories of magic and macabre than from the mouths of the sailors what gathered there.

Voices bellowed, violins fiddled, and tavern-goers danced while ale flowed endlessly on tap. Ducking through the crowded door, you searched the crowd for a candidate likely to entertain you this evening. Off to your right was gathered a throng of bar-maids, wenches, and commoner women, seemingly engrossed in the tale of a visiting sailor. Your little town was nothing impressive - a mere stop along the way to greater places - yet nary a sailor would easily avoid making port here once in a while. Strapping young men were always coming and going and to say that you didn't welcome them would be a falsehood indeed.

With a hint of a smile teasing your lips, you strode delicately through the teeming pub with practiced ease before selecting a seat a little ways off from the mass of women huddled around the jolly sailor. You had always possessed a rather odd talent for discerning voices from crowded rooms, no matter how many bodies were packed between the walls. You singled out the storyteller's tones soon enough.

His voice was velvety and pleasant, serene and crisp like a winter's breeze. The words he spoke were carefully arranged on a wicked sharp tongue and the vibrant tonality of them held his audience's rapt attention. From the glimpses you caught of him through the shifting bodies, it was plain to see that he basked in it, grinning broadly with wild gestures and boisterous laughter. He was young, certainly not much older than yourself and the way he carried himself bespoke a charming arrogance most women would swoon for. The boy's thick hair was as dark as elm and hung in lazy, wind-tossed ringlets. His eyes seemed black as coal in the meager candlelight but they flickered with a spark of licentiousness. Doubtless, he was beautiful, with clean, sharp features and that exuberant air. Questions arose from his audience and he met them with a dazzling and clever wit. Listening was like watching verbal sword-play - a duel in which one side had the absolute advantage.

His gaze flicked from person to person with the proper variance to keep his listeners interested, yet never lingering in any meaningful way. You watched him with an amused quirk of the lips as he spoke a tale of cannibals, sirens, and a monstrous sea serpent he'd dubbed Bartholomew. As was so often your ploy, you sat close enough to catch his words yet distanced yourself enough to remain outside his realm of attention. Handsome though he was, you didn't much fancy becoming the focus of his charm.

Men seemed to have a rather untoward tendency to latch onto you and the longer they spent in your presence the more they seemed to lose all sense of propriety or decorum. Ever since one particular instance where the brute of a man had gone so far as to attack you, your father had assigned you multiple chaperones for any public appearance. It was bothersome, to say the least - suffocating certainly, and recently you had resorted to sneaking out just to have a chance to breathe.

So when the boy's eyes chanced to meet yours through the throng, you felt a spark of panic. There was something breathtakingly vast in those obsidian irises, looking into them felt like staring up at the night sky stretching onward into infinite blackness. The world in its entirety seemed to shift as his boundless attention, like a telescoping lens, narrowed its focus solely on you. His voice broke off mid-sentence and he seemed to lose his breath.

Other men had displayed similar reactions to you before, but never had one conveyed such devastating yet beauteous intensity. A flattered blush painted your cheeks, yet you couldn't find it in you to glance away. For a split second, you thought you saw a shadow of something sinfully animalistic flit across his face, but it was gone before you could register it. You felt aberrantly… ravished by his gaze. Though it startled you to find it was not a wholly unwelcome sensation.

He smiled, not a lecherous smirk but an earnest grin as though you were the safe harbor amidst a storm-tossed sea. You smiled - modest and demure- in return before the shifting crowd cut off your connection.

It was time to leave

Finishing what little food you had ordered, you gathered your skirts and stood only to trip over a stray foot. You stumbled forward into the arms of a stranger who steadied you with ease.

"Thank y- Oh!" You blinked. Before you stood that handsome sailor, holding you gently. His hands felt like flames licking at your upper arms.

"Good evening," He said, bowing his head to you. Your thoughts froze in place.

“Y-yes,” You stammered. “It is.”

He smiled gently and smoothed his hands down your arms, spreading those flames over your skin. You blushed fiercely as he lifted your hands to his lips and conferred a kiss on the backs of both. Those amaranthine eyes never left yours.

“Do my eyes deceive me or might I be standing in the presence of the divine, empyrean, angel sent to abide my recreant and wretched soul?” He said, brushing a lock of hair from your face. Your breath caught in your throat.

You had received compliments from men before - been showered with them - but never before had you heard something so astonishingly genuine part from the lips of a complete stranger. The compliments tossed at you were nearly always the scandalous sort.

“I’m afraid you must be mistaken,” You breathed, nearly trembling with nerves.

“That’s certainly possible, blinded as I am by your beauty.” He smiled, twisting that lock of your hair around and around his finger. There was something in that smile that vaguely reminded you of the way a parched man might look at a drawing of water - you might almost describe it as delirious, if not tamer than that. “Might you do me the honor of hearing your name?”

“My name is Y/N,” You replied. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well then, Miss. L/N-” The way his tongue rolled around your name made your heart skip a beat. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he’d noticed as a satisfied gleam flashed through his eyes. “-I would have you know, that I’d need not so much as glimpse another woman for the rest of my days if you would grace me with just one dance.”

Your stomach fluttered and you wished this could be so, but you knew better by now. Just one dance was never enough. Just one kiss was never enough. They always wanted more.

You bowed your head, avoiding his immeasurably heavy gaze. “My apologies, sir,” You said, breathless. “But I must be getting home. I’ve lingered here far too long already.”

Disappointment tugged at the corners of his lips. “I see. Perhaps I could accompany you?”

You offered a dry smile. “Only if you would wish to be intimately acquainted with my father’s sword.”

“I would prefer to avoid that, I think.” He laughed but it was sad. “Might I see you here again?”

“I should think not.”

He wasn’t the first boy you had rejected, but that didn’t make it any easier. You’d never felt worthy of the attention you received. It had never felt real before now. Smiling regretfully, you risked granting him a pat on the chest before stepping around him. You felt his eyes hover on your back as you weaved your way through the tavern and out the door. That sensation did not cease until you arrived home and closed the front door.

In your attempts to make your way unheard through the blackness of your father’s estate, you unwittingly walked directly into the map table which took up a significant portion of the entryway for the time being. Your hip bashed against the corner and you winced as several of the small wooden figures, representing ships under your father’s charge, toppled over. Thankfully, all the household maids were abed at this hour and your father was away on business so no one was likely to have heard. Taking your time to carefully study the map, you replaced the figures in their proper order and scampered off to bed.

You awoke to cannon fire.

The echoing blasts shook you from your dreams and you shot upright, whipping your gaze to the window which peered out over the bay. There, in the water, was anchored a ship you had never seen. Its cannons flashed in the night as it fired upon the shoreline, parts of the village had already caught fire. Such a sight could only mean one thing.

Pirates.

A sudden crash and a shout tore your eyes from the window. The sound of heavy boots pounding up the stairs flooded your heart with dread. Torchlight flared beneath your door and you had not time enough to move before it burst from its hinges.

You screamed.

A pair of men dragged you from your bed by your arms. You writhed and fought like a wild dog as they dragged you down the stairs. Grinning in vicious satisfaction, you managed to drive your foot solidly into the stomach of one of the brigands. After that, they resolved to hold you down as one of them coiled a length of rope around your feet and shoved a rag in your mouth before hauling you off again. They dragged you to the beach and tossed you into a longboat. You would have attempted to tip the miserable thing if not for the knife one of the dirty pirates held to your throat.

“Quite the beauty our captain’s found for himself, eh?” The one with the knife inquired of his companion. Tattoos covered his body and his right eye was scarred beyond recognition.

“Don’t matter much, methinks.” The other shrugged. A sandy-haired man with hardened eyes and a crooked nose. “Doubt this one will last much longer than the rest.”

“Sure seems a shame, lettin’ a body like this go to waste,” The first agreed. He brushed a finger over your cheek and you snarled.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sandy-hair warned. “I doubt he would take lightly to his orders being disregarded.”

Tattoos scoffed. “That captain’s hardly more than a boy, he doesn’t give me orders. Besides, if he wanted this wench so bad, why’d he not take her ‘imself?”

“You know why.” The sandy-haired one quit rowing as the logboat approached the side of the vessel still docked in the bay. “Now unless you want to lose your hands, I suggest you keep ‘em to yourself.”

“I’m not scared of that kid,” Tattoos grumbled.

“You should be,” The other said.

More men gathered up above, tossed down a few ropes, and hoisted the boat from the water. As your kidnappers dismounted, they made the mistake of letting go of you for a moment. Seeing your opportunity, you spat the rag from your mouth and made a mad attempt to fling yourself over the side.

“Oh, no ye’ don’t, Miss.”

You screeched as one of the pirates caught you by the hair and tossed you onto the deck. Dazed, you caught a glimpse of Sandy-hair glaring at his companion, shaking his head. Filthy pirates stood around you in a loose circle. Some seemed almost scared to approach though you couldn’t fathom why. Tattoos leaned down and yanked you up by your hair again. He shoved you back and you stumbled over the hem of your skirt, collapsing onto the set of stairs leading to the helm. Your head smacked against the banister, splitting the skin at your hairline. Snatching your arms, Tattoos flipped you over, pinning your wrists over your head. You cried out in terror and he brandished the knife in his hand at your throat, shrugging.

“I get my turn, an’ he can have his,” The horrid man said with a cruel sneer. He moved the knife to slice open your dress. A sob escaped your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut.

To your surprise, there came a strangled gasp and that man’s terrible weight was lifted off you.

There was no tearing of fabric, no slicing of your skin, and your breasts weren’t suddenly exposed to the elements. Yet, you didn’t dare open your eyes.

Something crunched.

It was an awful, sickening, wet sound and morbid curiosity demanded you identify the cause. Timidly, you looked up.

Before you, Tattoos hung, suspended in the air by the throat. His spine bent backward in an unnatural way and his eyes, wide and unfocused, stared into the void, his jaw gaped limply, frozen in a silent scream. Your eyes flicked to the man standing behind him - a far too familiar brunette with a far too familiar voice.

“If you want to play the game, mate,” That silken voice advised. “You have to abide by the rules.”

You didn’t see him draw a blade as he dropped your assailant to the ground, but you caught a white flash of something that must have been a handle as he drove the weapon into the other man’s chest, plunging it straight through his heart. You stared at the corpse in front of you, far too utterly overwhelmed to be sure what you should be feeling at the sight of it.

“I hope the rest of you take that as a bloody warning,” Your savior said casually, kicking the body aside with a sneer. He cast his eyes to you. “Hello again.”

Your eyes flitted from him to the corpse, chest heaving with unsteady breaths. You were far too terrified to respond. The pirate smirked.

“Gefðu frúnni herbergið mitt,” He said in a tone like honey and thorns. Then he turned and two men parted from the crowd, stalking toward you. You shrieked again but couldn’t escape as they dragged you around the stairs and tossed you through a doorway. You pushed yourself up on your hands as the door slammed shut.

Taking stalk of your surroundings, the terror in your gut only crept up your throat like bile. Pieces of furniture were scattered around. An armchair, a bookshelf, a desk, and a bed. They’d locked you in the captain's quarters. Now, you may have been frightened out of your bloody mind but if these filthy pirates thought you were going to be a good little captive then they had another thing coming.

You needed a weapon.

Dashing over to the desk, you tossed aside an empty bottle of rum and rummaged through a pile of maps. You found nothing, so you moved on to the drawers. You had no idea what to make of the obscene quantity of random odds and ends contained therein but you didn’t particularly care to form an opinion. It wasn’t until you reached the back of the very last drawer that you found a silver letter opener. The decorative piece was by no means ideal, but the tip was relatively pointy so you considered that a victory.

Now all you could do was wait and see what fate had in store.

***

"What a pretty thing, you are." You spoke softly to the brilliant red creature as you gently stroked its breathtakingly vibrant coat. The fur was soft between your fingers and the animal didn't seem to mind your touch. "Are you a prisoner here too?"

The fox, of course, did not answer. Hours had gone by since your captors had locked you in there and you had come across the captain’s pet rather quickly. Skittish at first, it had grown used to you by now. A faint smile tempted your lips as you moved your hand, scratching behind the animal's ears. It seemed to like that, judging by the purr of contentment it made.

"Do you like him?"

The voice from behind startled you, and subsequently the poor fox in your arms. It sprung from your hands and growled but the man behind you whistled sharply and it quieted before skulking over to where he stood in the doorway. He watched you expectantly and you supposed it best you indulge him.

"He is a very handsome beast," You replied, straightening your spine in an effort to appear strong. Your legs were shaking. "Remarkably tame."

The boy smiled. It was a kind, disarming smile, but you knew better. The devil lurked behind those beautiful brown eyes.

"Yes, I'm rather fond of him as well," He said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping further into the room. "I found Draugr injured in a field, having been nearly torn apart by wild dogs." He pushed the door shut and you stiffened. You tried to conceal your horror but failed, taking a step back instinctively. The pirate noticed but didn't comment, instead gesturing toward the fox that now playfully nipped at his heels. "He must like you though. He won't permit anyone else on this ship to touch him."

"Likely because you're all filthy brigands," You snipped. Only a moment later did you think better of it. Perhaps insulting him wasn't the wisest course of action.

To your surprise, the boy laughed, shaking his head. "I can see how you might think that," He said. He crossed to the far wall and sat down in an armchair, gesturing for you to take a seat on the magnificent four-poster bed. His bed. You froze.

Should you obey him? It was a risk either way. He was strong - a sailor - he could so easily overpower you. Had you not witnessed him cut down one of his own men, not hours before?

He sighed, eyes seeming strangely soft. "Calm yourself, darling. Fair though you may be, I've no vile intentions towards you," He assured, tone gentle and understanding. You decided it might be safe to sit on the bed.

"Then why have you taken me?" You demanded curling your knees into your chest. "My father is a merchant, but that's no great ransom. I am of no significant value to you. Why can you not bring me home?"

He watched you for a moment. There was something… regrettable in his eyes. The smile he offered was kind, if not forced.

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, love." His gaze flicked subtly to the gash torn across your hairline. The boy's lips pressed together and he shifted uncomfortably, forcing his eyes away. "You are of… other value to me," He admitted quietly.

Your eyes narrowed.

"And what value would that be, precisely?" You hissed, pushing yourself further away from him.

Oddly enough, the pirate seemed to wince. His hand reached for you in a fleeting gesture, but he thought better of it. Instead, he spread them appeasingly - as if to show you he was no threat. At his feet, Draugr yipped and sprung onto his lap.

"I assure you, it's not what you're thinking," He said. Again, those soft brown eyes sought out your wound. "However, I would not deceive you…" He wet his lips and stared, transfixed at the last transient drops of scarlet that seeped from the cut. There was a distinct want in his gaze - a tormented and voracious hunger - like an animal on the brink of starvation. "I'm afraid what I desire of you is not a particularly pleasant affair."

The manner in which he eyed you drove your heart to increasing concern. Its rapid beating pounded in your ears as you curled tighter around yourself.

"If you are attempting to console me, then your effort is considerably lacking," You huffed. The air in the cabin, hot and stiff, only served to magnify your dire situation.

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly as though something pained him. "You needn't be afraid of me, darling." He offered the words almost pleadingly. "I'm not going to hurt you, yet. Please understand, this isn't something I want to do and I wish I could offer you a choice, but I can't. I-I need you and I'll explain everything. You're frightened, and rightfully so, but I promise you can trust me."

You laughed, though it was rather hysterical. "What reason have I to trust you? I don't even know your name! How can I trust someone who refuses to explain what they want from me?"

He chuckled slightly and smiled. Then he stood, prompting Draugr to bound off his lap.

The pirate's gait was graceful as he crossed the room, as graceful as any nobleman though you knew better than to be disarmed by such things. The predator he kept as a pet served as an apt reminder - a fox is as handsome and as graceful as it is deadly.

You didn't scramble away as he drew closer, though you certainly remained ready to, watching with leery eyes as he stopped and offered you his hand. You eyed it and scowled.

"Come now," He implored. "I'm not going to hurt you yet."

He said that as though it should be comforting. You took his hand anyway and he smiled - a rakish thing - as he lifted it to his lips. His kiss was gentle; it made your stomach turn and your skin crawl.

"My name is Kol," He said. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Your lips curled with disgust. "Don't pretend as though you care for me," You spat.

He tilted his head. "But I do care for you, darling. You intrigue me, and for that, I can only apologize. Tell me, what can I do to put you at ease?"

"You can start by explaining yourself," You growled, wrenching your hand from his grip. He let go willingly. His smile shouldn't have been so endearing.

He nodded. "Very well." He turned and walked to one of the cabin's stained glass windows, silent for a moment. "Do you believe in magic, Miss L/N?" Kol asked, gazing out over the ocean.

You raised a brow, unimpressed. "What?"

"Magic," He repeated, still watching the rolling waves through the window. The sun was going down, casting the world in hues of gold. "You know… spells, witchcraft, curses and the like. Do you believe in them?" His tone wasn't patronizing but you knew he must have been mocking you. Just because you had been sheltered and raised in comfort didn't mean you were childish. At any rate, he couldn't have been much older than you were.

Difficult as it was, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I don't make a habit of dwelling on ghost stories," You replied, dryly. "Especially those spoken of by pirates."

Kol turned back to you, a quirk of amusement alight on his lips. "Is that so?" He wondered. "Pardon me for assuming, but that's not how things seemed last night."

So he did remember.

You frowned and crossed your arms, choosing to watch Draugr instead of his owner. You wanted to squirm under that heavy, ravenous gaze.

"Sailor's tales entertain me." You shrugged. "Nothing more."

"That's very practical of you, darling," He commended. You didn't like that smirk dancing in his eyes. "Might I be allowed to entertain you then?"

"I would prefer a straight answer," You muttered. He just flashed you a grin and hopped up to sit on a table.

"Long ago," He began, voice filled with a pleasant wistful nostalgia. "There was a boy blessed with magic. He spent his days in near constant mischief, indulging in every impulse and always pushing the boundaries in search of the next thrill. He reveled in his existence - in the rush and the power in his veins and the connection to the earth, sea, sky." The light in his eyes faded, melting into something bitter. Something cold and dead. "Then, one night, his little brother was mauled by a wolf."

"Oh." That was not where you'd thought this story was headed. Kol's eyes flicked to yours and you could see pain in them. Pain and anger.

"Fearing the loss of her other children, the boy's mother - a powerful witch herself - offered him and his siblings wine laced with blood and in so doing, she cast upon them a terrible curse. This magic, dark and powerful, dictated that her children might become immortal - they would be stronger, faster, unaging, and able to influence the thoughts and actions of others. But first-" Reaching for a cup of wine left on the table, he paused to take a sip. His eyes never left your own. You watched them grow dark as the sun outside sank beneath the window's view, casting his face in shadow. He sat the goblet down again and when he spoke, his tone was hollow and empty.

"-First they would have to die."

Now, you didn't necessarily want to encourage him, but you couldn't help being curious. His story reeled you in and held you captivated, much as before in the tavern.

"And did they?" You prompted when he failed to continue. "Die, I mean?"

Kol smiled but there was nothing in it.

"Yes." He nodded. "Their own father slaughtered them one by one that very night."

His eyes reminded you of a storm.

"And the boy?" You asked hesitantly.

Kol took a deep breath and tilted his head, watching you with consideration.

"When the boy awoke, he discovered himself changed. He was just as fast and strong as I described; however, to his horror, he realized he had been cut off from his magic - from the only thing that had ever made him happy. He felt helpless, terrified, empty, and alone." He paused and his eyes drifted down to his hands. "But above all, he felt hungry. See, his mother's curse had come with an unintended side effect - an insatiable hunger and an unquenchable thirst, unlike anything this boy or his siblings had ever known. Yet, the more they tried to appease this hunger, the more they came to realize something far more ominous.

"No drink could seem to satisfy, and any food put past their lips was to them naught but ash. They craved something else…"

He seemed to wait for you to inquire further, but your lips remained sealed. You didn't want to know. Kol tilted his head and raised a brow, smirking challengingly.

"What? Not curious to know more?"

You swallowed thickly and shook your head. That smirk of his stretched unnaturally wide - almost painfully.

He got up from his perch on the table and strolled back toward you, looking down at you for a moment before taking a seat by your side. You flinched away from him as he faced you. He was too close. Hidden within the folds of your skirt, you clutched the silver letter opener tight.

"Magic is a fickle thing," Kol continued. Draugr circled his feet affectionately and he smiled down at his pet. "Created by human blood they were... Now they would forever consume it. Unable to live for they could not die, neither yet were they dead; they were truly cursed."

"This boy had never before denied himself any fleeting impulse nor desire of his heart and that terrible hunger clawed at him like nothing else. He could not control it. Thus instead of seeking to help or understand him, his siblings thought it best to subdue their brother using a magical dagger that could put him to sleep for decades. Again and again, they betrayed him, until one day, he could bear it no more. He fled.

"In hopes of remaining hidden from his siblings, the boy joined the crew of a pirate ship. On one of his rare trips ashore to quench what little thirst he could, he met by chance a beautiful maiden with the most enticing blood he'd ever come across. After having spent so long on the brink of starvation, he simply couldn't resist."

Kol met your eyes. Something in them begged for understanding but you were far too unsettled to offer anything more than suspicion.

"That's an excellent tale, Kol." You drew yourself further away from him. "But I fail to see what it has to do with me."

The pirate bit his lip and looked away. "I know not what it is, but something within you is different," He whispered. "And I want to taste it."

Your heart nearly stopped. His story - this tale of magic - couldn't be real. He was just toying with you. He had to be.

"I'm not one to believe in curses, pirate," You reiterated, glaring coolly. "Only selfish, cruel men."

The boy chuckled darkly. "I am cruel, usually," He hummed, running a hand through his thick, silk-like curls. "I'm as selfish as they come - a hedonist, truly. Yet, for whatever reason, I don't want to hurt you." He laughed, shaking his head. "It's baffling…"

"Empty words." You pressed your lips together and shook your head, fighting back tears. "You're going to hurt me anyway," You accused venomously.

Kol sighed and shifted closer as though you sought his comfort, but you didn't. Your back was pressed against the headboard - you simply couldn't shy away any further.

"No, love. I don't want to hurt you… just-just taste you." Reaching out, he moved one hand to cup your cheek, and the other he settled on your knee. Your eyes flicked down briefly and your heart skipped. When you lifted your eyes again, you found he was already studying your reaction. An innocent, almost shy smile spread across his lips.

"Forgive me if I'm not comforted." Your eyes drifted down to his hand again and you swallowed thickly as fear rose within your throat, threatening to choke you. No man had ever touched you so intimately. Was your skin crawling, or were those sparks beneath his fingertips?

Kol tilted his head knowingly, yet his eyes were soft. He moved in closer, drawing far nearer to you than could be considered proper. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he dragged his hand higher, resting it on your upper thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat, and each intake of air shuddered through you as the fear in your stomach mixed with something else. The boy tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"See? You don't have to despise me," He claimed. "One often has to pick a flower to admire its beauty, and like a flower, I can care for you - treasure you. Anything your heart desires, you may have just as long as I may keep you."

There was something distinctly sweet about the way Kol carefully began to dig his fingers into your soft flesh. The strength of his grip increased gradually, blooming into something not painful but exquisite. Had you not known better, you would have thought his hand was burning you for all the heat that seemed to seep through your skirts. A shiver ran down your spine and you simply couldn't hold back a tiny whimper as it escaped your lips. The boy grinned, stroking your cheek.

You shook your head, tightening your grip on your makeshift weapon. "You're sick!" You hissed.

He smiled mournfully. "I'm cursed."

You clenched your teeth. "I don't believe you." Withdrawing the letter opener from the folds of your dress, you cried out and flung yourself forward plunging its dull silver into his chest with all your might. The blade sank in up to its handle.

Kol flinched.

That was it. Nothing more than a flinch.

Raising a brow, the monster glanced down at the silver metal protruding from his midsection and frowned.

"I was wondering where that went," He commented idly. Then, he grabbed the handle and pulled it out. The blade glistened with red and your heart sank as you watched the hole in his chest stitch itself back together. His eyes flicked between you and the bloodied, useless trinket in his hand. "Now I must admit - I'm curious, love. After killing me, what exactly did you plan on doing next?"

You fell back in shock. Tumbling in a heap onto the floor, you pushed yourself back up onto your hands, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"That's…" You shook your head, trembling. "That's not possible."

The monster smirked, seemingly relishing in your dread. "You had best start believing in ghost stories, darling," He said. "I'm afraid you're in one."

All thoughts of escape were ripped from your mind and you watched in horror as your captor's angelic countenance transformed into a devil's. Kol's eyes filled with an unholy blackness that seemed to draw the last remaining beams of sunlight from the chamber, plunging you into candle-lit gloom. Demonic veins spread across his cheeks like the creeping vines of a poisonous tree and his lips peeled back, revealing wicked razor-sharp fangs.

All you could do was shriek in sheer uncomprehending terror. Scrambling to get away from that thing, you stumbled to your feet and made a mad dash for the door. It wasn't that you thought you could make it. You knew you couldn't. You just needed to try.

A pair of arms wound around your waist and you screamed again. Not in surprise but simply with dread.

"Shhhh… Come now, sweetheart, it's alright," Kol's soft voice assured you. With a rush of air, you found yourself straddling his lap. You cried out and tried to throw yourself off of him but his arms felt as firm as prison bars.

"No." You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, no, no. Please. Please let me go. Don't hurt me. Please?"

You felt him wince but it did you no good. He just pulled you closer, weaving a hand into your hair.

"No, no. Shhh… I'm sorry, love." He held you as though you were something precious, rocking back and forth in a vain attempt to somehow comfort you. "I know you're frightened and I'm so sorry I'm scaring you, but you're going to be alright. It's all going to be alright."

"No! NO! You're gonna hurt me!" You sobbed. "Please don't hurt me! Please?"

"I have to, I'm sorry." Kol pressed a kiss to your cheek and his lips were soft and warm, but that couldn't make up for what he was about to do. He pulled away just enough to brush your hair off your neck. "I promise I'll be gentle with you, darling."

Hopelessness overtook you, ripping open a dark empty pit in your heart. It seemed as though the only choice you had left was to accept your fate.

"A-alright," You whimpered, releasing your tears to stream down your cheeks. Kol froze.

"Darling, are you-" He pulled back, searching your face with confusion. "Are you not angry with me?"

No. You were too scared to be angry.

You shook your head, eyes screwed shut. "I'm scared," You choked out. "I'm just scared."

That monster of a boy - you weren't sure what he was - cursed, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I know," He said. "I know you are and I'm sorry. But we're too far from shore now and I need you."

You pressed your face into his well-worn jacket, inhaling deeply. He smelled like black powder and ocean waves. "You said you would give me anything?" You sniffed.

His hand wove itself deeper into your hair, tugging on the roots as his arm around your waist constricted ever tighter, pressing you almost painfully against him. "Yes," He promised. "Yes, anything. What do you need?"

You couldn't believe what you were going to ask, but you didn't want to die feeling so empty.

"Could you hold me for a moment?" You whispered, voice crumbling to dust. The least you could ask for was a moment of peace before you died. Kol wasn't exactly your first choice for comfort but he was one of a finite number available. Though for whatever reason, be it obsession or madness, Kol at the very least seemed to care for your feelings somewhat.

He hesitated. "You want me to hold you?"

Not particularly. However, you would rather his arms around you over anyone else's on this accursed vessel. So you nodded.

"Alright," He breathed. You could feel him smiling. "Come here, darling."

Kol laid back, settling down among the pillows as he carried you with him. You were quite astonished at how gently he handled you - almost as though you were made of glass. Urging you to lay on top of him, he wrapped his arms firmly around your back and nuzzled his cheek against your hair affectionately.

You fisted his jacket and cried, pretending for a moment that the arms which held you didn't belong to the monster about to end your life. You pretended this was just a dream. You pretended you would see your father again. It was almost pleasant. Kol was warm. Every now and then, he would kiss your cheek, whispering sweet nothings in a language you didn't understand. Your tears ran dry eventually. Kol took to nosing along your jaw and throat while you sobbed quietly. It wasn't long before his lips began making the same rounds. Kol's butterfly kisses stopped on your pulse, lingering there and morphing into something a little less chaste. You'd never been kissed in such a way before. Maybe you liked it, maybe you didn't. What did it matter? You figured your time was up.

"Are you ready, sweet thing?" He murmured into your skin.

You shook your head. "No." You weren't ready to die. "But that doesn't matter."

He kissed your cheek as though that could replace an apology. "Just relax," He muttered soothingly. "Try to go to sleep." His hand rubbed circles into your back and it wasn't comforting but it was better than nothing at all.

"Will I wake up?" You wondered. After all, you'd always hoped to die in your sleep. There were worse ways to go.

"You will," He said. It didn't really matter if he was lying or not, you wouldn't believe him anyway.

"Kol?"

"Hmm?"

"I may not know what breed of devil you are but you're a horrid, filthy pirate and I hate you."

Kol brushed a strand of hair from your face with a thin smile, before leaning down to kiss your neck again.

"I know."

You closed your eyes and felt yourself drifting. The sea as your cradle rocked you to sleep and Kol spent the next little while combing his fingers through your hair. You weren't quite asleep, but you were close to it when you felt his teeth scrape your throat.

He bit down slowly, gently, pulling you closer as he sank his teeth deeper and deeper into your flesh. Horrid, burning pain engulfed your senses and you whimpered feebly. He stroked your side soothingly in response. A content purr-like noise rumbled in his chest as he drank down mouthful after mouthful of your blood. Kol moaned a little at the taste and bit down harder, seeming as though he couldn't get enough. It hurt and you discovered you had a few more tears to cry.

It wasn't too long before the groaning of the ship's timbers began to dull and you could no longer hear the spray of the sea. Your heart began to slow down more than it should. Despite being surrounded by Kol's pleasant warmth, you felt cold. You were dying.

So it surprised you when Kol's fangs retracted, tugging painfully on the broken skin. He was breathing heavily, though you couldn't see his face - too weak to open your eyes.

"Bloody hell, darling. What are you?" His voice was muffled and far away. Your thoughts were too muted with pain to do you much good so you just hummed and stretched in response.

Shaking his head, he leaned down again and began lapping sweetly at the still weeping marks, cleaning away any excess blood. Finally, he licked the wounds closed and sat up, drawing you into his lap where he held you as though you meant the world to him.

Wiping away the stray tear that had slipped down your cheek from his assault, the boy sighed and pressed the faintest kiss to your forehead.

"See, love?" He said. There was an awful lot of hope in his voice. His tone was thin - pleading almost, as his arms around you tightened. He drew a hand across your stomach, petting you slow and soft. "See? I-I didn't hurt you." You would disagree with that statement wholeheartedly if only you hadn't been so thoroughly drained. "I didn't hurt you. I can control it." Oddly enough, his words seemed to be aimed more toward convincing himself. "I didn't hurt you. I didn't hurt you."

***

It was a problem, you thought, that you could no longer discern how you felt about your situation. The days weren’t bad. As a matter of fact, they were rather pleasant. Though you had been warned away from the water so strictly your entire life, it didn’t take you long to fall in love with the sea and its ever-changing beauty. You spent your days perched on the prow of the ship, watching the waves in their intricate dance. No crew member ever dared bother you again; however, you did come into friendly acquaintance with a sailor who was both deaf and mute. You learned that his name was Bora’Dain and he spoke using a system of hand gestures that apparently only Kol could understand. The two of them were rather close and seemed to enjoy insulting one another any time one of them turned their back. Although you quickly learned that attempting to play cards with either of them was an ill-fated maneuver, Bora’Dain readily made up for his frustrating winning streak by teaching you the art of knife-throwing. Your days were something to look forward to.

The nights were not quite so pleasant. Whatever unknown factor it was that made your blood so appealing, wasn’t something Kol could resist for long. While he was bright and full of laughter during the day, come eventide that wicked appetite of his curse returned. His gaze would linger and his hands begin to tremble the longer he tried to fight it. By nightfall, you always seemed to find yourself in his arms and he could never bring himself to let go. Thus, each night ended quite similarly - with his fangs buried in your neck, greedily consuming your very essence and a promise that he wasn’t going to do it again the next day. It was a promise he couldn’t keep.

The mornings, however, were the worst. You would awake at dawn only to find yourself in excruciating, feverish agony. Turns out, the human body isn’t meant to undergo extreme blood loss. You were so terribly ill each and every morning. It would be hours before you regained strength enough to stand. You weren’t sure if it was a curse or a blessing that you weren’t alone. Every morning, you would wake cradled in Kol’s arms and he would hold you as you cried.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” You wept into his shirt one morning. Your entire body ached, your veins felt dry, your limbs were weak and useless, and your pulse and breathing were labored. “It hurts.”

Kol sighed and pulled you in closer, taking care not to aggravate your damaged flesh. “I took too much again, didn’t I?” You just tugged weakly on his shirt in response. He groaned and pressed a kiss to your hair. “I wish I could heal you.”

It was somewhat comforting to know that he was sincere in that statement at least. He had tried to feed you his blood before with disastrous results. For whatever reason, your body had rejected it. You’d nearly died. It was odd, according to Kol, aside from outrageously tempting blood, you were by all intents and purposes, entirely human. Yet, though meager, your body did seem to have its own form of increased healing - approximately a third the rate of any other human. Your body wouldn’t allow itself to be healed by any outside force, and that brought its own set of problems.

Namely, the scars.

Kol had decorated you with them. Dozens of pale raised marks stippled your neck, shoulders, back, wrists, and - lately - your thighs. All of the bites hurt, though some places were more sensitive than others. Kol just couldn’t seem to differentiate lust from bloodlust at times and it seemed he’d found a new favorite spot when you’d allowed him to start biting your inner thighs. He'd spent weeks begging for your permission and you thought that if you appeased him then perhaps he might mutilate you less often. He didn't. If anything, he'd continuously grown more eager, biting into your sensitive thighs with increasing vigor. Those wounds stung horribly, but the boy had become even more affectionate toward you once he’d had his fill. It was a trade-off you could stand.

“You must tire of hearing this, but I am striving to do better," He said.

"It feels as though you're getting worse," You whimpered. Kol's hand, stroking your thigh, brushed over one of his bites from the night before and you winced. He murmured an apology and pulled his hand away. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to yours.

"I can't help it. You taste better the more I take," He admitted. "I don't know what you are, but it's beginning to concern me."

"Kol?" You opened your eyes, letting as much of your pain bleed into your voice as possible. "If you care about me, please just take me home?"

He closed his eyes. "Please don't ask me to do that, love."

"If you care about me, you'll take me home," You repeated firmly.

"I can't." The boy shook his head. "I can't let you go."

That was it, then.

"I don't want to die." You shuddered and coughed.

He sat up, lifting you into his lap to rest against his chest. "You're not going to die."

"You're going to kill me."

"No!" He buried his face in your neck. "No, I won't."

"Then let me go home," You pressed.

"If I take you back, I will slaughter your entire town," Kol growled. "My siblings will find and dagger me once more. Is that what you want?"

"No." You coughed again, groaning. "But you're killing me."

"No!" He ground out. "I'm not killing you. You're alright. I wouldn't do something like that to you. I know when to stop. I'm not killing you." Perhaps he could convince himself, but not so you.

"Then can you please just give me one day to rest?" You begged. "I'll feed you tomorrow, but please - I just need one day."

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "If there were anything else to eat out here, I would take it. In a heartbeat. But there isn't," He stressed. "So, unless you're keeping a map to several fully manned vessels in that corset of yours - I rather doubt it - then the best we can do is find out what the bloody hell you are."

You blinked.

As though someone had lit a candle in your mind, a plan began to form. A horrid, disgusting, desperate plan. The sort of scheme one comes up with after spending too much time around pirates.

"Well, it's not in my corset but I think I may have what you're looking for."

Kol looked up, raising a brow. "I beg your pardon?"

With the weight of his gaze now settled entirely on you, the words seemed to tangle together in your mouth. You glanced away, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

"M-my father," You stammered.

"What about him?" Kol demanded, resting his hand on your hip.

"He's a-a merchant - a prominent one. Recently, he was given charge over a fleet of ships," You told him.

Kol's eyes narrowed and a smirk tugged at his lips. "You know where they are."

You nodded. "I know where they are."

For a moment, you feared he wouldn't believe you - that he would think you were bluffing. Then that smirk broadened into a grin and he squeezed your hip gently.

"Very well, darling. What sort of cargo are these ships carrying?"

Your heart stuttered. You didn't know. "What?"

"Alas, I have to pay my men with something." He shrugged.

If he was looking for anything in particular then you were screwed, but you would say just about anything he wanted to hear if it would save your life. "Erm, anything, I suppose. Gold, silver, fine cloth, even slaves on occasion."

His eyes darkened. "People aren't cargo, love."

You swallowed thickly. "Then do something about that."

"Very well." He grinned and you yelped in surprise as he swept you into his arms and stood. "Shall we?"

Kol was a rather whimsical being, thus his moods could change on a dime. When this kind, playful side of him came out, it almost made you forget about the monster that bit you every night. You had learned to enjoy his better moods when possible, so you allowed yourself to giggle as he kissed your cheek and brought you out on deck.

"Gents! We have a heading!"

"Headin'?" A sandy haired sailor shouted, shielding his face from the sun. "Whot headin'?"

"Excellent query." Kol glanced down at you. "What's the heading, my love?"

You didn't yet have the strength to shout over the din. "North by Northeast," You replied.

"North by Northeast!" He declared, turning to ascend the steps leading up to the helm. "We sail toward fame, fortune, and a bloody five course meal!"

Within a few hours, whatever healing your body possessed seemed to work its magic. You were up and feeling much better - excited even. If you were lucky and found one of your father's ships within the day, then Kol wouldn't need to feed on you that night. That thought alone brought you much-needed relief and surprisingly enough, you didn't feel the least amount of guilt pertaining to what you'd done to obtain said relief.

"You know what would be bloody useful?" You called over your shoulder. Kol, Bora'Dain, and a few other crew mates sat behind you, playing cards on a makeshift table they'd brought out. Draugr was out and about on deck today, having caught several rats, he was quite content to curl up in your lap and present his ears for scratching. You happily obliged your favorite crew member.

The day was by no means bright nor cloudless. Morning mists had lingered over the water and the sun remained hidden behind layers of cloud. You were greatful for a respite from the heat; however, the choppy waves which agitated the sea hadn't made for a pleasant recovery from your usual sickness. Even through the fog, you were still hunting your father's ships but there was a lot of ocean to cross in the meantime.

"A way to prevent 'Dain from being such an insufferable cheat?" Kol guessed, scowling at the cards in his hand.

"Dis from you's, eh? Belligerent cad, you are." Ho-Jon scoffed. At hardly fourteen years of age, the black-haired boy was the youngest soul on board - a street urchin Kol had picked up in Singapore.

The entire crew, you had noticed, was a rather unorthodox bunch. It would seem Kol had collected for himself an assemblage of outcasts. Every brand of pariah, vagabond, or persona non grata was welcomed aboard, so long as they adhered to Kol's rules - from what you had observed, the pirate abided by a strict moral code which might have been useful to you, if only you could puzzle out what it was. However, for pirates, you had to admit, Kol's crew wasn't bad. For the most part, they treated you with more respect than plenty of the noblemen your father had encouraged you to meet.

"I'm the captain here -" Kol smirked. Despite his rank, he never treated his crew as lesser than himself, save in jest. "-cheating's my right."

Ho-Jon rolled his eyes.

"Actually, I was going to say a compass," You continued. "One that points directly toward whatever you want most."

"That would be convenient," Kol agreed.

Bora'Dain snorted and Kol glanced at him. The deaf man made a few gestures and he scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

"And how exactly do you figure that?"

Bora'Dain smirked but apparently felt no need to explain himself.

"He say compass useless?" Ho-Jon guessed. His accent was odd - like a dozen dialects rolled into one and though his grammar was somewhat lacking, the boy's knowledge of curses and profanity was quite extensive. Then again, he had no impairments in understanding Kol's impressive vernacular, so perhaps he just enjoyed his near-unintelligible slang.

"That he did." Kol nodded, crossing his arms. "Specifically in my hands." The black haired kid tossed his head back, laughing. Kol raised a brow. "Care to elaborate?"

"Well in'a you's hands, compass would on'a poin' du one t'ing." Ho-Jon shrugged and pointed in your direction. "Her!"

Kol's eyes flicked to yours and your cheeks flushed with heat. He didn't like you that way, you were sure. He just liked your blood. He turned his eyes back to their game, gesturing for Ho-Jon to take his turn.

"Mate, I think you best keep in mind the notion that it is within my power to keel-haul you at any time," He mused casually.

"Eh." The fourteen year old waved a hand. "Don'a think you do it."

"You need to broaden your imagination," Kol hummed.

The kid grinned. "There's is always broads in me imagination," He announced proudly.

You snorted. "And here I was sure you'd never even met a lass," You teased.

"Met you!" He countered.

"Yes, however, seeing as I was kidnapped, I don't count," You pointed out.

"Commandeered," Kol corrected, grinning wryly. "Kidnapped makes it sound rather fiendish."

"Stealing a lady from her bed is, by definition, rather fiendish," You said. "Not to mention you lot are, after all, pirates?"

Kol smirked. "Alas, the lady has a point."

"Of course I do," You quipped. "That comes naturally from being the only civilized person aboard this ship."

Ho-Jon gasped, playfully affronted. "You's a callin' me a heathen?"

"How uneducated of you, love," Kol said, shaking his head. "I'm the heathen, he's naught but your common knave."

"So it's true what Bora'Dain told me?" You asked. "In your mortal life, you were a Viking?"

Kol shot the African man a reproachful look. "I told you that in confidence, mate."

Bora'Dain shrugged and made a few gestures, one of which appeared rather rude.

"I don't believe that's any of your business," Kol said, voice clipped. Whatever was said must have upset him somewhat. The deaf man pointed at you, made another series of hand signs and scowled. You supposed that meant it was a negative statement. "Well if that be the case, you can resign your opinions to yourself." He snapped. A capricious smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, that's right, you do that anyway."

Bora'Dain didn't seem very amused by his retort, but the vampire paid him no further heed.

"Is it true?" You asked, swinging your legs back and forth. "Are you five hundred years old, or not?"

You could see Kol's jaw working. "Its true," He ground out. Then, trying to make light of it - "I've been sailing these seas since old 'Dain here was but a wee lad."

"So I suppose you've seen your fair share of Krakens then?" You asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from whatever had put him in such a foul mood.

"Krakens, love," He said, correcting your pronunciation. "And I'd like to think so, along with other manifestations of terrors from the deep." He blinked. "Speaking of which…" The easygoing smirk slipped from his face and he paused, tilting his head as if listening to something. A moment later, Kol stiffened.

"Please tell me I'm the only one who hears that."

"What?" Ho-Jon laughed, tossing his cards down on the table. "Tha' Imma winnin'?"

Kol ignored him. Standing, he crossed the deck to lean out over the railing, squinting into the watery goom. You noticed then that the lingering fog had thickened considerably through the last twenty minutes or so and the waves felt increasingly tumultuous.

"Ho-Jon, cover your ears," Kol mumbled, turning away from the railing with a weary expression.

The boy frowned. "You wha'?"

"Do as I say. Now!" Kol ordered. "Go wake your brother, and lock yourselves in my cabin. Do not come out until I come to get you, understand?"

Ho-Jon nodded sharply and scarpered off, disappearing below deck.

"Kol?" You caught his arm. "What's going on?"

"Sirens," He answered grimly. He turned back to the remaining pirates, shouting. "SIRENS!"

Moments later, you heard them.

A song crested over the lapping of waves, an ethereal chorus in harmony with the winds. Dozens of voices layered over each other, their dulcet tones rich and enchanting, enticing you to listen. The words ones you knew well - sweet as a lullaby. Casting your eyes down to the water, you were surprised to meet the gaze of a beautiful young woman with vibrant red hair and eyes the color of the icebergs to the north.

"Come, little one," She entreated. "Sing with us."

You couldn't quite say what made you do so.

Early one summer’s morning, I carelessly did stray

Down by the Walls of Whapping, where I met a sailor gay

“Draw them to the edge, little one,” The woman in the water said. “We can free thee from these fiends.” Her sultry voice was somehow friendly.

“You misunderstand,” You answered, frowning. “These are my friends.”

A pitying, almost motherly expression dawned across the woman’s face. “The dark one hurts thee, child,” She said. “We’ve heard thou cryest in the night and have come to avenge thy pain. Draw him hither, young one. Draw him to the edge.”

Was this ethereal creature right? Could you be free of him?

Conversing with a young lass, who would seem to be in pain

Saying: 'William, when you go, I fear, you'll nare be seen again.'

“How?” You breathed.

The siren tilted her head, petal-like lips pinching in a frown. “Knowest not thy power? Thy mother didst thou nary seek?”

You shook your head. “I never knew my mother. All my life, my father kept me sequestered from the sea.”

In the water, the woman smiled. Her teeth were rather sharp. “Thou holdest in thy hands the winds and the waves and the hearts of men. All shall obey thy will, daughter of the deep, for thou art as one of us.”

“I don’t want to be,” You worried. “I merely wish to go home.”

“Be free of the monster,” She said in lieu of an answer. “The blood he’s consumed will endear him to thee. Come now, draw him to the edge. Give him to us.”

“What will you do to him?” You wondered.

“We would drown him!” A chorus of voices trilled in delight. “Drag him to the depths and lay his corpse on the seafloor to rest!”

You blinked, brows furrowing. Was that what you truly wanted? Did you genuinely desire that Kol should spend eternity drowning for what he’d done to you?

All doubts were ripped from your mind as your eyes, seemingly of their own accord, sought Kol from among the chaos. He tossed a keg of black powder into the waves and looked up. When his gaze met yours, a power within you quivered with excitement. The singing grew louder, empressing on something in your very soul, compelling you to join in. You reached for him.

His hair it does in ringlets hang, his eyes as black as coal.

My happiness attend him, wherever he may go.

Kol’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head, as if trying to clear away an unpleasant thought. He began backing away. You reached for him again.

“Wait,” You whispered. He stopped, seeming unable to tear his eyes away.

“What is this?” He demanded. You shouldn’t have been able to hear him over the singing and the chaos, but it was as though your minds were connected. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.” You smiled as he obeyed. The boy took a few steps toward you and his expression crumpled, contorting in agony.

“Stop it!”

You feigned a hurt expression. “I thought you favored me.” Your tone seemed to twist, managing to sound profoundly broken, though you hardly had to try. ”Please hold me?” You were, in a way, a predator offering herself up as bait. “I want you,” You lied.

“No, you don’t.” He shook his head, yet drew closer all the same. “You hate me.”

“No,” You said. “It’s not your fault.” He craved so desperately to hear those words.

“You’re lying,” The boy hissed. You could see the conflict in his soft brown eyes.

“Kol, please?”

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I will wander, weep, and moan

All for my jolly sailor until he sails home.

He was in your arms within a heartbeat, curling around you and holding you tight.

Humming along with the spirits in the water you could almost feel what your voice was doing to them - to him. The song washed over him in waves, preying upon every weakness, harnessing every vulnerability in order to better weave itself into a cruel illusion, perfectly tailored to the boy in your arms.

Kiss him… A soft yet demanding voice whispered in your mind. It was less of a voice and more of a craving - a dark, twisted, salacious desire that welled up within you as soon as he was close enough. You weren’t sure where it came from or how you knew what to do. All you knew was that you wanted to pull that boy under and watch as his own lust starved him of air. You needed to pull Kol in close and tease him with his most desperate desire until it burned so fierce as to consume him completely, driving him to madness. This was what you were, you realized.

A siren.

So you kissed him and he took to it like a man possessed. His arms circled your waist and he pressed into you, devouring your lips with frantic desperation, as though he knew this was a mere fabrication and yet was determined to bask in its warmth as much as he could. A starving animal that boy was, gluttonous for affection even if it were naught but a mirage. Kol begged you for entrance but you denied him, refusing to gratify his desire. Clutching onto his shirt, you leaned back…

And toppled into the ocean.

Kol hardly seemed to notice. It was pathetic, really. He was drowning - or going to - and he would rather kiss you than save himself. Because in this beautifully perverse fantasy, you loved him in spite of all he’d done and Kol wanted that, he wanted it more than anything. He was willing to die in pursuit of a delusion. Pathetic.

Kol moaned into your mouth and you swallowed each one like candy, drawing in water as well but that didn't matter. His heart rate began to slow and that terrible power inside you fluttered, squealing in delight. He was dying and it was ecstasy.

A bright orange flash struck your closed eyes moments before a massive, echoing blast shot through your body. The sirens in the water surrounding you shrieked and scattered in the wake of the explosion. You cried out in pain, lungs filling with water, and watched as Kol’s eyes fluttered open. Without a second thought, Kol grabbed your arm and towed you toward sunlight. You shot past the surface, gasping and coughing. Pain pulsed white-hot in your gut and you were vaguely aware of rope being tossed toward you before you slipped into blackness.

When you awoke, you were met with the sight of Ho-Jon’s face mere inches away from your own. You startled awake and punched him.

He stumbled back, holding a hand to his cheek. “Oh, I be’a seen how it is!” The kid huffed. “You’s just a’tryin’ to kill everybody now, eh?!”

You gasped. “Bloody hell, Ho-Jon! I’m so sorry!”

“S’okay, your high-demoness…ness.” He waved you off. “Don’t eat me and we’ll call it a draw!”

Your brows shot up. “I beg your pardon?”

The black-haired boy shrugged. “Not my pardon you’s be neeedin’ to beg.” The door opened behind him and Ho-Jon sent you an almost sympathetic look before turning to leave, muttering something about the cost of watching pretty women sleep.

Kol moved to stand at the foot of the bed and you pushed yourself upright, though you were sure no posture could conceal just how terrified of him you were. His eyes were freezing obsidian pits and to stare into them was to surely bear witness to the very depths of hell. You'd tried to kill him. He folded his arms and you could see his jaw working as he studied every inch of you.

"Now, now, darling," He muttered almost to himself. "What am I going to do with you?"

Swallowing thickly, you scrambled as far away from him as you could as he rounded to sit on the bed. He didn't look at you, instead opting to tug on a loose string unraveling from the once pristine silken sheets, now irreparably stained with your blood.

"Are you aware," He began casually. "just how unfathomably lucky you are that I can't truly drown? Another minute or two and you would have been just as dead as whatever poor bastard you were attempting to suffocate." The pirate chuckled but there was no humor in it. "See, the unexpected siren attack is precisely why I prefer to keep a deaf man aboard. If not for Bora'Dain, I think both of us would be rather uncomfortable right about now."

You bit your lip and averted your gaze, electing to remain silent. Kol watched you expectantly for a moment, then sighed. Within the blink of an eye, his hand shot out and caught your ankle in an iron grip, wrenching you back toward him. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself to hover domineeringly over you, resting his weight on one arm. You could taste hints of rum on his breath - he'd been drinking.

"So, my love…" Kol mused, cold eyes flicking over your face. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

You shook your head. "I-I don't know," You whispered.

He raised a brow. "You don't know?" Kol slipped his hand beneath your skirts and slowly began crawling it up your leg. A shiver raced down your spine and you swallowed thickly.

"No," You replied, breathless. Some long-dormant part of your brain told you that he was very dangerous at this moment. He was a predator and you were nothing.

"Really?" Kol's hand reached your thigh and he brushed his thumb over the freshest of the bite marks. You hissed in pain and he smirked. "So you didn't knowingly employ a hereditary seduction charm in an ill-conceived attempt to send me to the depths?" He questioned. You opened your mouth to reply but he cut you off, stroking his bite warningly. It had only just healed over - still so sore. "Don't lie to me, darling. Otherwise, I may be forced to do something unpleasant."

You pressed your lips together, blinking away tears. "Please don't get mad."

"I won't," He hummed, smiling in a way that was almost kind. "So long as you tell me the truth." His fingers probed around your sensitive spot where his teeth had left bruises, kneading the flesh a little until he found the site that made you whine. "Ah there it is," He breathed, sickly satisfied. "Go ahead, pet."

"I wasn't trying to drag you down," You told him. "I swear, I didn't know I could do that to you."

Kol sighed. "Oh, sweetheart." He shook his head. "I thought I told you not to lie."

"N-no! I didn't-"

His fingers dug into your thigh, clenching painfully around the wound, pulling the skin tight. You cried out, straining to get away but his grip on your leg was stronger than a vice.

"I'm not lying!" You begged, tears streaming down your face. "I didn't realize what was happening! I give you my word!"

"I see." He muttered, maintaining that excruciating pressure. "When you pulled us into the ocean, did you wish for me to die?" You whimpered, shaking your head as you braced for pain. "Darling…" Your torturer practically sang. "The truth, if you please."

"Wait, don't-" Kol tightened his grip, bruising your flesh and the taught, freshly healed skin split apart. You shrieked as hot, crisp agony rent through you with savage talons. Kol released your thigh but didn't remove his hand, allowing your slick, crimson blood to seep from the reopened wounds anew. All the while his face remained impassive - emotionless - as he swept his thumb back and forth over the riven flesh, painting your skin red.

"It was for but one moment," You wept softly. "I didn't know what was happening, I swear to you. I-I couldn't stop."

Kol inhaled sharply and you flinched, yet no pain came. "You did this on instinct?" He asked in hardly a whisper.

You nodded, still sobbing. "Yes."

"You couldn't control it?"

"No," You rasped. "It made me want to. I couldn't stop."

"And that's the truth?"

"Yes." Finally, you dared to open your eyes. Kol's expression was no longer cold, his eyes held regret. He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours.

"You have my sincerest apologies, love. Forgive me for leaping to conclusions." Then he sat up and removed his hand from your skirts. Blood coated his fingers. The boy stared at it for a moment before lapping it up ravenously.

"I should have known you were a bloody siren," He laughed, sucking the last drops from his fingers. "Though, I suppose that not knowing is precisely the point."

Thoroughly exhausted, you sighed, allowing yourself to relax though only slightly. "I understand not what this means," You mumbled rather weakly. "What am I?"

He shrugged and laid back, facing you with a playful smile teasing his lips and you wished it could last. You liked the gentle, attentive, flirtatious side of him - the way he treated you as though your smile were the most valuable thing in all the world. Yet when he grew angry, that boy disappeared and a wildly possessive, bloodthirsty beast took control before you had time to react.

The rapid change was nothing new. Kol's moods reminded you of the sea itself, every bit as whimsical, changing, and untamable as the roiling currents. He could torture you one moment and dry your tears the next. In fact, that was exactly what he did. Kol reached out and swept his thumb over your cheek, tenderly wiping away your pain with the same hand that had mutilated your thigh.

"If I had to guess," He hummed consideringly. "I'd wager you were a hybrid - a human with siren blood - presumably from your mother's side seeing as you never knew her. Your father is human, yes?" You nodded hesitantly and Kol frowned. "And he kept this from you all your life?"

"I suppose he did." You nodded, feeling empty. Timidly, you met his gaze. "Might you explain to me what it all means?"

"Of course." He smiled and took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back. "What would you like to know?"

You bit your lip, cheeks reddening as you watched Kol tenderly kiss each of your fingertips before nuzzling into your palm. It was as though he were two different people.

Innumerable questions danced in your mind, but you settled on only a few.

"Are there others like me?"

Kol shrugged, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. "All factors considered, I'm inclined to answer no. It's quite possible you may be the only of your kind in the world."

"How come?" You frowned. "Why do I alone exist?"

"I think that's rather simple, actually. " He smirked. "Full sirens may survive on land for naught but a few hours; thus, I believe your answer would be fornication." He chuckled as your blush deepened. "Although, I must admit that I am extremely curious as to how your father managed it."

You raised a brow, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I may not possess any personal experience in the matter, but…" He trailed off as if deep in thought. "You know, I do believe it would be rather difficult to properly bed a woman when she would rather drag you to the bottom of the ocean to pick your bones clean of flesh…" Kol flashed you a raffish grin.

Your cheeks burned and you gaped at him, floundering for something to say. "Wh- Excuse me?"

"Basic attributes of a siren, love," Kol reasoned, casually. "Shall I make a list? Uncontrollable desire to drag a man to the depths? Yes. Body and voice crafted by the gods? Absolutely. Baleful hunger for flesh of man?" He shot you a look.

"Of course not!" You exclaimed reproachfully.

Kol rolled his eyes. "Obviously you don't openly display all of them, fringing on your hybrid status, but I'd bet they're in there somewhere…"

"No!"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," He teased, grinning. "If you're ever feeling the persuasion, I know a few places that serve the best-"

"Kol!" You laughed and elbowed him in the side. You weren't sure what possessed you to do it when he'd been so cruel mere minutes before but it felt natural. "I am not a cannibal!"

"How unfortunate. That could have been fun."

You giggled for a moment and sighed. "All that said, what is a siren… truly?" You inquired. That wasn't the question you really wanted to ask but it was the one you spoke. Kol drew in a breath and pressed his lips together. His soft brown eyes drifted to your hand, studying every detail as he took his time mulling over his answer.

"Sirens are, first and foremost, shape-shifters, darling." He began. "Their appearance depends entirely upon those who behold them as they take on whatever form an individual finds supremely enticing. A siren's powers of seduction are ambient, contained not only in one's voice but in their entire essense - down to the tiniest detail."

"Do you think me beautiful?" You found yourself wondering.

"Yes." The boy flung his other arm around your waist, drawing you in closer. "Effortlessly you enchant me, darling. Your eyes, your skin, your hair… your blood." His eyes closed and he smiled. Not a smirk, or a threatening flash of teeth, but a real boyish grin. "Yes. Yes, the scent of it, the taste of it, the timbre of your heartbeat. All of it. So perfectly delectable." His nose nudged the heel of your palm and Kol groaned longingly. Then he tugged on your hand a little more and planted his lips over the throbbing pulse inside your wrist. He hummed contentedly and your breath hitched as Kol took a special interest in tracing the veins in your wrist with his tongue as though they formed the most interesting treasure map in the world.

"O-Oh." You couldn't understand why you liked it so much when he was affectionate with you.

Now thoroughly distracted, you didn't want to disturb him and instead silently watched that boy lick your skin sweetly, so sweetly. For once, the action was absent of the constant hunger that seemed to control him. With eyes closed and expression docile, he reminded you of an affectionate pup. You tried to pretend as though you didn't like it.

"Is this magic the reason you relish hurting me so much?" You wondered, tone soft and intentionally idle. Kol froze and opened his eyes, looking at you as if you had run him through on a cutlass.

"You think I enjoy hurting you?" He asked softly.

"Why else would you be so eager to torture me each night?"

"No, love." He sighed and offered you a rueful smile. "That's not me," Kol promised. "Euphoria from pain will always be my curse and I can no more control it than you can control your desire to lure a man beneath the waves."

You nodded. Oddly enough, you understood. The need to draw Kol to the water was still there, even now. It wasn't something you actively thought about and it didn't matter if it made sense or not. You just wanted it.

"I don't want to hurt you," Kol continued, fixing you with those fathomless eyes. You fought the urge to shrink from beneath them. "In fact, I would do just the opposite if only you would let me. I don't know if it's strictly your nature or mine, but please understand, love, that it is my deepest and most fervent desire to pleasure you until the only word you can manage to pass between those perfect lips is my name."

"O-oh…" Well, his words certainly left little room for debate. You flushed and tried to move further away from him, but Kol reached out and took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"Alas, I will wait until that is what you want," He promised. "For now, I'll settle for ransacking your father's ships." He got up and held out his hand to help you. "Come along, darling. We can't be far behind."

As it turned out, you weren't very far behind your father's ships at all. A morbid sense of relief washed over you as you caught sight of white sails on the horizon. In spite of Kol’s reassurances, you knew you couldn’t trust him. You would have to look out for yourself.

Upon beginning your approach, you realized the only flaw in your plan. Your father’s merchant vessel was spectacularly well-armed - prepared to fight off any attempt at piracy. The Maria-Luna, as it was called, had easily twice the cannons of the ship you stood on - fondly named The Hanged Man’s Deceit. Furthermore and to wit, Kol was currently running a skeleton crew as honor among thieves is evidently a hard thing to come by - a rather untoward situation from where you stood, taking count of the veritable army of hired soldiers you could see roaming on deck. 12 on 50 didn’t strike you as the best of the odds.

“I think we might need more guns,” You commented, lowering the spyglass you’d borrowed from Bora’Dain. Beside you, Ho-Jon threw his head back and laughed. “What?” You demanded. He turned to you with a lazy grin.

“Oh, we’a got some tin’ betta’ den guns,” He said. You opened your mouth to ask but a voice from behind you stole your attention.

“Gentlemen!” Kol stood on the railing of the ship’s prow, grinning like a hungry fox. “Empty your pockets and take stock of the rum, I expect you ready to board on my signal!” His eyes found yours and he winked, stripping off his jacket before tossing it to you. “Hold this for me, would you?” Then he lept from the ship and dove beneath the waves.

“What the bloody hell’s he think he’s doing?” You exclaimed, shrugging the well-worn coat over your shoulders.

“Just’a wait, M’lady,” The black-haired boy smirked. Your eyes narrowed as you caught a glimpse of a dark silhouette darting through the water. Moments later, you raised Bora’Dain’s spyglass just in time to watch him climb out of the ocean and onto the Maria-Luna’s rear balcony. Shaking the water from his hair, he looked almost directly at you and proffered a mock salute before slipping inside. It was about two minutes later that the Hanged Man’s Deceit drew close enough for you to hear the screaming. Your face grew pale.

“H-he’s killing them,” You stammered. “He’s killing them all!”

Ho-Jon snorted. “Whaddid’ya think he was gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I-I don’t-” You hadn’t thought this plan through before proposing it. These ships belonged to your father. It was entirely possible for someone you knew to be aboard!

The kid shot you an odd look. “Sorry to say, M’lady but you’s should’a be happy, no? You survive dis’ long ‘cuz him hold back. Others dead way faster den you’s,” He said solemnly.

You spun to face him. “That bastard’s kidnapped other women like me?”

“Nah!” He waved a hand. “They’s all done asked to come. Only lasted two, maybe three days though.” The kid made a face. “Annoyin’ strumpets, they was.”

“I see,” You said, pursing your lips.

“Not you’s though!” He added cheerfully. “You’s, uh… kind, no? You’s say: ‘G’mornin, Ho-Jon!’ And ‘G’night, Ho-Jon!’ And ‘Perhaps don’a stick yer foot in da cannon, Ho-Jon!’" He grinned, displaying gapped teeth. "You’s nice.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully. “That’s called being decent. You should try it sometime.”

Ho-Jon shrugged. “Nev’a learned. No’a nice du me budd’a rats.” You could hear the scars in his voice. “Kol done pull’a me outta’ da gutters in Singapore - owe him me life. Sometimes it hard though.”

“Why?” You asked.

The kid offered you a wry smile. “Don’ much like a hearin’ ya’ cry, M’lady.”

Touched, you wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead even though he was nearly as tall as you. “Ho-Jon?” You said, smiling. “Let it never be said that you are anything less than a gentleman.”

The fourteen-year-old blushed. “Danka’, M’lady,” He mumbled. You ruffled his hair and he quickly shuffled off.

Evidently, Kol’s interpretation of giving a signal was to fire a chain shot from one of the Maria-Luna’s own cannons into the ship’s mast. Bora’Dain, who was a the helm, then skillfully provided to maneuver the Hanged Mans Deceit into position alongside the Maria-Luna. Corpses of soldiers and sailors alike - dozens of them - littered the deck and Kol stood, cavalier as ever, among them. He was soaked with blood and you couldn’t be sure how much was from others and how much was his own, seeing as his once white shirt now bore several vibrantly red holes.

“Greetings, rat bastards!” He spread his hands, grinning boyishly as the crew boarded. “May my spoils be yours!”

Whoops and hollers sounded from the crew as they went about looting the ship while you remained where you were. Guilt rendered your stomach uneasy and you didn’t feel much like rooting through the pockets of cadavers for loose change. More disturbing was just how little blood remained around them all.

Kol’s eyes lit up as he turned and caught sight of you. Before you could blink, he was standing in front of you, hands seizing your hips as he lifted you into the air, twirling you around. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or scream and you were still trying to process that decision by the time he set you back on your feet. He pulled you into another embrace immediately, tangling his fingers in your hair.

You raised a brow, frowning. “Kol? Are you ill?”

He shook his head. “Not at all, darling,” He said, burying his face in your hair. “No, I feel good. I-I’m full. Yes, I am completely full.” His arms around you tightened. “I haven’t felt this good in ages.”

A breath of relief that you’d been holding for weeks finally passed your lips and you relaxed, allowing yourself to melt into him. “How wonderful,” You breathed.

Kol kissed your shoulder, then your neck, then your jaw. “You don’t have to hate me anymore,” He whispered.

“Maybe not.”

For a while things were good. You were, honestly, happy. Your days were spent among friends, learning to swash-buckle and sail. Your nights were spent in comfort, cradled in the arms of a man who adored you. Your mornings were spent in bliss, filled with soft words, loving touches, and warm kisses that made your heart melt. All you had to do was provide the locations of your father's ships. As long as you did that - as long as Kol was fed - he didn't have to hurt you.

All was well until you directed him to the wrong ship. All was well until you spotted a familiar countenance among the bodies.

"Father?" You whispered, peering past the morning mist.

He wasn't supposed to be there.

"FATHER!"

He hated sailing. The motion of the sea made him sick. He owned the boats but he never accompanied them.

"No! No, no, no!"

His glassy eyes stared off into the distance, dead and unfeeling. His jacket was torn and stained with blood. You knelt by his side and clasped his cold, limp hands, screaming for him to wake up.

He didn't.

You couldn't be responsible for this - he wasn't supposed to be there.

No.

No, you weren't the one responsible.

A bloody pirate stood behind you. He was the one to blame. He was the one who had kidnapped you from your home. He was the one who tortured you - drove you to desperation. He was the one who had torn your father's throat apart. He was the one at fault.

Closing your father's dead eyes, slowly you stood.

"You. Did. This."

"Darling, I-"

"Darling?" You hissed. "Darling?" You spun around, seething with cold, violent hatred. "You cruel, capricious, selfish bastard! You break in to my home, steal me from my bed, feed on my blood for days, torture me, threaten me, kill my father - and you have the audacity to call me 'darling'?" You didn't care if you upset him - didn't care if he killed you. What more could you possibly lose? "Pretty words can't heal a knife's wretched work."

"I didn't know it was him."

You laughed, loud and bitter like waves crashing against razor-sharp rocks. "Do you genuinely think that earns you clemency?"

He didn't even have the decency to feign regret.

"I never intended for this to happen," He said.

"I CARE NOT FOR YOUR INTENTIONS!"

The wind picked up, swirling in a cyclone around you, driven by your rage and grief. Sea and wind would obey your will - they belonged to you. That was something he could not steal.

Tearing your way to the prow of the ship, you peered down into the water and screamed. Tears dripped from your cheeks, diffusing in the infinite ocean.

"Where are you?" You seethed, grip crushing the wooden railing until it splintered. "Damn it all, where are you?! I know you're there! I feel you watching! You said you would avenge me, now where are you?!"

Voices filtered up from the deep, bringing comfort and power.

"We art here for thee, little one. Fear not, for thine sisters surround thee."

"You said you would help me."

"Thy pain is strong, child. What desirest thou?"

"A rhythm of destruction," You answered. "And a watery grave."

"Be it as thou sayest, but such power demands a price. Thy sisters hunger, child. Wilt thou deny us their meat?"

"No."

You could feel the excitement of your sisters in the water. Their voices trilled with glee. As their melody began to rise over the waves, you offered it your soul.

My sailor hath betrayed me

His lapse I must abhor

Kol had hurt you for the last time. Now he would feel your pain. They would all feel your pain.

He did bite that hand which fed him

I'll suffer here no more

The clouds overhead swirled and blackened like a man with a rotten wound. The sea began to churn and toss, reaching - reaching upward to gently smother the sailors in your grasp and drag you all down to twilight depths. The winds howled and bellowed, proclaiming your hatred with the lungs of gods.

If the sea could know my anguish

A foul tempest wouldst be born.

Fear filled that monster's eyes but your own had twisted into a mirror. He would find no mercy there.

For hell, a fury hath no

Quite like a woman's scorn.

"Y/N, stop this."

The stinging scent of ozone saturated the air and you inhaled it deeply. "I'm afraid I don't want to, Kol."

A crack of lightning split the sky and the heavens opened. Slicing, driving rain poured down from above.

"You know you do. You're angry and you've got plenty of reason to be but you need to stop," He said. "You need to control this."

"No." You smiled, teeth sharper than they'd been before. "I shan't need to do anything for you, ever again."

"You'll damn us all!"

"Yes," You laughed, hair flowing in the wind as though you might flood the whole world. "Yes, damn you, Kol. I would damn you all to Davy Jones locker!"

"You can't kill me," Kol claimed. "Not like this."

"You're right." Your voice became as the wind - as the very storm itself. "But my pain will end and you will be lost to my sisters - forever drowning in the ocean's deepest pit until the end of time. Your suffering will dwarf my own."

"Stop this, Y/N, now!" He commanded. "Or I will!"

You spread your hands. "You can't."

Kol snarled and rushed at you.

"Don't touch me!"

The wind as your hand swept him aside, sending the monster careening into the rigging. A battle cry arose from your sisters in the ocean and whips of braided kelp and pearl lashed him down, coiling around his wrists, neck, and ankles.

A mighty gale heaved against the timbers of the ship, causing them to creak and groan. Waves assaulted the deck from every side, sending water pouring through the cracks.

This world could cease its turning dance

I'd not see, nor hear, nor know

Somewhere, a terrified voice shouted- "MAELSTROM!"

Yet, all was to you but numb satisfaction. A stroke of lightning lit the sky and rent the mast in twain. Walls of water crashed over the sides and the sheer force of the winds sent cast iron guns toppling, shredding the deck as though it were parchment.

For my heart hath been fragmented

By that jolly sailor bold

With one last flash of light, the Hanged Man's Deceit was swallowed up by the sea.

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