#they will also be vampires soon in a fic trust!

[hoahoahoahoahoa]

I’m not quite done with this idea but i don't think i'm in a place to sit down and write a fic so i'll just word vomit here

First of all, my two fav side effects of this AU:

Not only does Edward not have the edge on Bella that he has on everyone, but she has that edge on him. He's forced to be vulnerable to her the same way everyone but her is forced to be with him. He's getting a taste of his own medicine in the worst way. (not that he's invading others' privacy on purpose most of the time, but it is what it is)

2a. Edward does a lot of romanticizing Bella, because he can. She's the one person onto whom he can project. It sounds nastier than it is-- that's how all relationships are to some degree, especially at first before you get to know the person. The difference is how much of a novelty this is for Edward. Finally, he can get to know someone at a normally pace, not privy to private events they don't mean to share. He goes a little overboard idealizing her because she's the first mystery he's had in a long ass time. Except now... Bella can catch him doing it.

2b. Bella's got the reverse now. She gets all Edward's dirty laundry from the jump. She meets him at his very worst... and she sees him rise above it, and how quickly he turns around.

Okay busting out my copy of Midnight Sun for this play-by-play of the first book:

Obviously a big plot change is Bella knows Edward is a vampire from day one. Even if she doesn't clue in from anything she hears from him in the cafeteria (she might not even fully realize what's happening in the cafeteria; maybe Bella's telepathy doesn't have as long a range as Edward's b/c she's human and also "borrowing" the gift), it's super obvious as soon as her scent hits him in Biology.

She's frozen in place from the shock of suddenly having telepathy + the revelation that vampires are real + Edward's a telepath (that can't hear her?) + the sheer violence in Edward's thoughts. She manages to gather her thoughts enough to consider running out of the room or even asking to be excused, but she doesn't trust her voice to not give away her terror, which would escalate the situation.

Class ends and Edward runs out and Bella decides very, very quickly that Edward Cullen cannot know that she can read his mind and knows about him being a vampire. Surely he would follow through on killing her if he knew. She's got to play it cool like none of this ever happened. She can't tell anyone, because he (and his vampire family?) would kill them too.

Some of Edward's thoughts in Biology involved following her home and eating her there so there'd be less casualties. She has no way of knowing that he ran away to Alaska. It's not even a comfort that he doesn't return to school; she spends the whole time he's away waiting for him to appear out of thin air and kill her. She sharpens a stick from her backyard into a stake which she keeps in her backpack because she has no way of knowing it couldn't work, and she doesn't want to feel totally helpless, even if it's a silly gesture. No harm in trying.

In this time she does get some flashes of Alice's visions during lunch now that Alice has turned her "eye" on her. She has no clue what to make of them. Her with red eyes?? Her smiling with Alice?? Her with Edward?? These cannot be coming from her own imagination what the fuck is going on, she must be losing her mind from everything that's been happening

Edward comes back to school and Bella's picking up snippets from him from across the room. he seems much less murder-y. but she's not ready to trust that after everything she heard that first day. It doesn't help that Edward is coming in with every intention of gaslighting her ("Why didn’t she look up? Probably she was frightened. I must be sure to leave her with a different impression this time. Make her think she’d been imagining things before.")

The thing about Bella trying to hide her telepathy, which becomes very apparent in Biology on Edward's first day back, is she's never had to do that before. It's very difficult. It doesn't help that Edward's internal monologue is trained on how helpless she isa nd how it hurts to breathe near her because she smells so tasty

Talking to Edward is just difficult I’m general bc vampires are canonically capable of having multiple trains of thought at once and we know Bella is frequently ~dazzled~ by his beauty so Edward quickly becomes very concerned for this poor girl she’s hanging on by a THREAD

And of course Bella hears this worry so she’s in a positive feedback loop of anxiety. RIP

anyway Bella doesn’t do a perfect job of hiding her fear and her newfound ability. She slips up juuuust enough that Edward is Suspicious. But she makes it through

The tipping point for Bella going from "terrified" to "oh this is a complicated creature" is the incident with Tyler's van. For a horrible moment, Bella's absorbed in Alice's vision of her getting squished. Then she hears Not her! in her head in Edward's voice, clear as day. And she hears all Edward's anxiety over the potential for exposure but also how he just really, really doesn't want her to die (even if it's confusing him). She laughs a little too hard at his "no blood, no foul" joke at the hospital because she's in on it now and she's too stressed to think better of it.

I think her mind also, like. Snaps. at this point. She's done worrying. He's gonna kill her or he's not. He can't even seem to decide, and she can't do anything about it anyway, she's just going to keep on keeping on and if she dies, well, at least the end of her life will have been the most interesting bit? And yeah she's a little bit of a freak and she's fascinated by this guy. What is his deal. She’s along for the ride now

Bella doesn't grill Edward for the truth of how he got over to her so fast but she does slip up and thank him for risking so much to save her and he's like wait. Does she mean risking his life with the van or risking exposure of him and his family? There's no way she could know about that??

Of course that day is the day Alice lets it slip to Edward that he's going to fall in love with Bella. Bella isn't present for that but the next month, Edward refuses to talk to Bella but she hears a constant stream of I do NOT have a crush on her, I AM going to kill Mike Newton, I am NOT falling for her, even if it'd be so easy to fall for her, I wonder what she's thinking right now, I will NOT destroy her future, my throat HURTS and honestly it's still freaky as hell to be privy to a vampire's mind but her mind's kinda. Snapped. by now. and she can't help but be a tiny bit amused. At least he's not fighting "the monster within" anymore? Is this some weird strategy to keep from killing her? Sure, fine, whatever, thanks

Bella catches snippets of memories of the family meeting about killing her too. Btw. Much 2 think about

When Edward finally asks her if she wants a ride to Seattle, she hears how genuinely nervous he is, and she knows, fucking knows exactly how dangerous he is, so she honestly shocks herself when she says yes. He hasn’t killed her yet, and he’s genuinely fascinating, at this point she’s Into him but also studying him like a bug

At lunch that day Bella hears in Edward’s head that he’s ditching because they’re blood typing. She can’t think of a good excuse to also ditch. Edward is extremely confused that she leaves for Biology like she’s about to walk into a war zone

Port Angeles happens much the same as in canon with Bella feigning ignorance and acting like she hasn’t known about Edward being a vampire from day one. It seems silly to admit she figured out the vampire thing but not mention the telepathy, but every time she opens her mouth to admit to the telepathy, she remembers the snippets of the family meeting about killing her and she chokes on her tongue. It’s one thing for a vampire to choose to confirm a human’s suspicions about the existence of vampires. It’s another entirely for a human to have direct access to a vampire’s mind and the whole coven’s secrets, right?

So now Bella’s stuck herself in a horrible situation where Edward’s trying to be honest with her and she’s lying to his face. Angst angst angst

Bella doesn’t realize that night that she’s in love with Edward.

Edward has a really conflicting image of Bella because on the one hand nothing ever seems to surprise her. On the other, she seems nervous every time she opens her mouth. The idea that she can read his mind is just so far-fetched it just doesn’t occur to him— even he couldn’t read thoughts as a human

Bella hears the Bug Calculations in the meadow. I just wanted to point that out. It’s hilarious

Bella finally breaks. I’m thinking Midnight Sun page 349, right after this exchange:

…but when she says “you know, the rest of us feel that way all the time” it’s absolutely stricken with guilt and nerves. He never gets a choice in telling her what he’s thinking. It’s finally being thrown in her face. She can’t keep this up anymore. This can’t go on— not without him knowing

So of course replace “I was wishing I could know what you’re thinking” with a horrible minute of absolute silence from Bella. Her heart rate spikes and she finally braces herself says “no, ‘the rest of us’ includes your family. They can’t read minds, either.”

Even with his vampiric supercomputer brain™ it takes a good 5 seconds for him to register that she’s responding to something he didn’t say out loud. He chokes out her name in a strangled cry. This is the quietest his mind has ever been to her. She broke him. Good lord did she trigger something is he going to kill her— no, he wouldn’t, but what if—

Bella immediately starts crying. Sorry, babygirl. Yeah she terrified. She thinks Here it comes. She starts babbling. She blurts out the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. “I’m not like you. Not really. I can only ‘hear’ you. And I don’t think my range is as far as yours, from what you’ve described. I’ve been afraid to tell you because I figured someone like you couldn’t let someone like me live with the knowledge I have now but because I was afraid to let you suspect I knew anything, I got to know you“ etc etc

Edward is still through all of it. Deathly (hah) still. Straight corpsin’. She’s now getting static from his brain— too many thoughts too fast for her human mind to pick anything comprehensible out.

Boy oh boy if Edward was struggling with the mortifying ordeal of being known before… he just found out the woman he’s in love with has been live-streaming his inner monologue every second they’ve been together. Noice 👌

He’s really, really angry. At Bella, for hiding this. At himself, for not seeing it sooner. At himself again, for every wicked thought he’s had in her presence (I know he’s prob not catholic but the catholic guilt is strong in this one). Every shared moment with her flashes before his eyes in reverse chronological order, leaving him off with the first day in Biology. Truly the most heinous thoughts he’s ever thunk, in his opinion, and she heard it all. “You’re here.” He says. “You know exactly how close I’ve come to killing you, over and over again… and you’re here.” It occurs to him that Bella could’ve been going along with his plans and pretending to be his friend for fear of her life, but she hears that train of thought and shuts it down: “Yes, I’m here. Because I want to be.” Edward winces because okay, yes, it does suck being on this side of the telepathy, confirmed.

Still, he tells her in short order, because he thinks it needs to be said: “You can leave right now. You can never talk to me again. I won’t come after you, and I’ll protect you from my family.” He silently prays that Alice loves Bella enough to not tell Rose or Jasper about this if she’s seen it, and then winces when he realizes Bella can probably hear that he’s not 100% certain he could protect her from his family.

She takes his hand. Gives him a really sad smile. “I’ll stay… if you’re sure you want me to.”

Edward starts choking/laughing/sobbing. Here’s this girl who’s seen him at pretty much his lowest, laughed her way through his feeble disguise, and somehow still accepts him.

Hearing this thought, something occurs to Bella: she loves him. Isn’t that what love is? Seeing someone’s worst, and taking their hand? Maybe she’s not in love with him yet, but… yeah, that’s some kind of love.

Now she’s looking at him like she loves him. Edward doesn’t dare believe that’s the expression she’s wearing, so her softened gaze and slight smile are driving him crazy: “Tell me what you’re thinking— I think I’m justified in asking, now” he’s still reeling so he’s gonna crack a joke, ok

“I meant it when I said you’re beautiful.” He can appreciate that more now— she knew how truly monstrous he was when she said that. He’s been dead wrong about her not understanding, or underestimating— she knows. It doesn’t really connect in his brain. So the word “Beautiful” sends him off on his canon tangent about being designed to kill (“aS iF yOu CoUlD oUtRuN mE”)— maybe an in-person demonstration will drill it into her that he’s too dangerous to want to be around

Instead of calling herself an idiot for still wanting to be around him, Bella argues that she’s aware of all that, but she’s also aware of the horrible pain he endures just to be around her, and all the control he’s shown so far.

Okay this is long enough already djdjxjxdjsjs TBC if there’s any demand for it

AU where Bella’s gift is not so much a shield as it is an Uno reverse card

Edward can read everyone’s mind but Bella’s as in canon, but now she can read Edward’s mind

Alice’s visions are blank where she’s concerned (like the werewolves in canon), but Bella can see visions of the future involving Alice, or has visions when she’s around Alice. Jasper’s gift is already kinda 2-way so he can still sense/manipulate her emotions, but she can do it back to him. She can hurt Jane, zap Kate, etc etc

Bella would have the weirdest fucking first day of school anyone has ever had, ever. There’s a voice in her head saying “yeah okay I guess she’s pretty but kind of plain and— wait why can’t I hear her” and then Biology is just. The worst hour of her life. but being Bella she’s just sitting there like

…while Edward plans the death of her and all her classmates right next to her

[vampirehizzies]

"I stand with my cancelled homicidal vampire girlfriend" ships just hit different

[gothsuguru]

hello! i just wanted to drop by to say thank u so much for the tags you left on my prince!gojo/stablehand!reader fics. they meant so much to me gen,,,they were such a treat to read <33 im so glad that u liked them and took the time to leave such thoughtful comments 😭 its was so sweet of you!

anyway, thank u so much again !! :D

OMGGGGG IT WAS MY PLEASURE READING THEM!!!! <3 thank you for creating literally the coolest concept for a fic omfg like… stablehand!reader x prince!gojo my beloveds……………. if you ever choose to make it a series/decide to do even more chapters for them whenever inspiration strikes TRUST that i’m gonna be there front & center 🫡 & omg thank you for taking the time and writing such cool fics! :D MWAH! <3

[blackbirdie1234]

Hey!! I love your fic's so much!

Can I request a Jacob x Fem!reader where they are friends but reader has a crush on Jacob. When he shifts he leaves and does what he did to Bella like ignoring her and Billy won't answer the door.

Mutual pinning but neither knows. He imprints on reader.

Thank you so much keep up the great writing :)

Also, I was wondering if you are going to be doing the vampires as well?

Hi!, Thank you so much for the request! I appreciate the kind words <3

I will be doing fanfics for the vampires as well! As of right now I only have the wolves, but I am planning on making a master list for the vamps and Bella. If you want to make a request for them I can definitely do that! I am planning on making a fic for Jasper soon!

A/N: Not proofread! I aged Jacob up a bit, you both are seventeen here. I didn't know exactly how to end this but I think I might do a spin-off series off of this fic so if you are interested in that let me know. Also, sorry for the late posting I am currently sick and going through it lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Jacob being an ass, cursing, angst, Y/N with a backbone.

Wolf’s Out Of The Bag

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

You were staring blankly down at your phone. Ten phone calls, ten phone calls sent to voicemail. Ten desperate, pleading voicemails. No callback, no text, nothing received. You snapped your phone closed and threw it down on the bed.

It had been two weeks since Jacob stormed off from your house after getting into a small disagreement, at least it started off that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jacob," You grumbled with a slight roll of your eyes. Hoping he would drop the subject.

He was giving you an irritated look. You lightly pushed him with your shoulder giving him a small smile.

"I didn't think you'd care that much, it was one date and it's never happening again," you noted with a light-hearted laugh to ease the tension.

He turned to face you, irritation turning to anger. You could actually feel the heat radiating off of his body next to yours.

"Wow you must be really dumb, I mean how could you even think about going on a date with that pig. He's not good enough for you, but then again if you were desperate enough to give him a chance maybe I'm wrong" He barked getting more bitter with each word.

You look at him in shock.

"Why would you say that to me" You said not believing what you were hearing. "It's really none of your business who I go out with, you aren't my bodyguard, you don't have to 'protect' me. When did you get the right to decide who is 'good enough' for me? Huh? You're being a dick and I don't know why but it better change right now." You say sternly. He has never acted like this before and this sudden behavior change is not sitting well with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob left shortly after that. He had gotten so angry he was shaking, you can't even remember the words that were thrown after that. Now, he wasn't answering the phone. Billy said he came down with mono, you didn't know how much you believed it but decided to trust that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

Jacob was your best friend, you loved him a lot. You had never had such an intense fight, you never thought he would react the way he did. You only went on the stupid date to get Jacob out of your head, you thought that maybe you would get over Jacob if you found someone else to pay attention to. You were wrong, no one made you feel the way that Jacob did. Jacob made you feel at home, you couldn't explain why but it was like he was the person you were meant to be with. He was the one who understood you fully and would never judge you for anything you said or did. Until now......

You were deeply hurt by what Jacob said to you, and if he thought that you would get over it he was surely mistaken. He had never said anything more hurtful to you in your entire friendship. You had thought about just letting it go, letting life run its course even if it meant Jacob being out of your life, but you couldn't just sit and let him speak to you that way. You wanted answers. Sitting in your room waiting for him to call and explain was becoming too stressful. You sat there for hours overthinking and no matter what you were doing you were replaying the moment in your mind.

You must be going crazy. At least that's what you were trying to convince yourself after seeing Jacob cliff-jumping with Sam Uley and his gang. You had decided that you would go to La Push, and relax your body and mind on one of the only partly cloudy days in Forks. The skies were pretty clear but there was a storm coming soon, so you decided to do it now. Never in your life did you think you would see what you were seeing now. Are you fucking serious? was all you could think as you drove your car straight to Billy Black's house. You wanted to make sure it was really Jacob, so you went to the man who had told you how 'serious' his condition was in the first place.

As you pulled into the driveway the clouds began covering the sky in a dark grey mass. You hopped out of the car and began walking to the front door, Billy had opened the door as soon as you stepped onto the wood. His face had a mix of concern and confusion as he noticed your agitated expression and the way your chest was slightly heaving from anger.

"Where is he" you say with a grumble.

"He's not here, he went out," He says seriously but looking down a bit not wanting to make eye contact. Billy didn't like lying to you and to your face it was even worse.

Just as you were about to speak you looked to the side and saw that far away down the hill, Jacob stood playfully nudging another man as a few more came out of the woods.

"Don't Y/N" Billy said in warning.

You started stomping down the hill, ignoring Billy's yells. Billy calling your name caught the attention of Jacob, as his face shifted from laughing to completely still. You continued to walk towards Jacob as the rain started, it quickly went from a drizzle to full pouring as you finally reached him.

To say you were fuming would be an understatement.

"What the actual fuck Jacob!" you say basically screaming at the shirtless man, who was now staring directly into your eyes with what looked like pure amazement but you ignored it the best you could, whatever love for him you felt in that moment may have been strong but you were too angry to care so you continued.

"So we have one fight and you ignore me for two weeks?! I called you ten times, ten times Jacob. You couldn't bother picking up the phone at least once, you could've told me you didn't want to be friends but no! You had your daddy lie to me" You say with an angry laugh.

"I thought you were sick Jacob! Too sick to pick up the damn phone and text me! Come to find out you were just having too much fun cliff jumping with the guys we used to make fun of! You know what you can have them, If you want to throw away seventeen years of friendship then be my guest." You say finally taking a breath.

The weight off of your chest feels amazing, but as you finish Jacob falls to his knees. The boys behind him look between you two with pure shock on their faces before they start laughing and smiling. You look up at them shocked and confused thinking they were making fun of you. They start walking away but not before patting Jake on the back. Sam leans down and whispers something to him as he sits there still on his knees staring at you.

"Do you even care about a word I just said to you? You know what never mind if you think this is a joke I might as well leave," You say turning around and starting to walk away.

Jacob suddenly found his voice as he quickly got to his feet and stumbled trying to reach you.

"WAIT! Wait, wait, Y/N please hold on!" He spoke hurriedly. Grasping for your hand and pulling you around. Hand now resting on your waist.

"I am so, so sorry. Please let me explain everything, I promise I won't lie to you anymore. I can explain everything now, just come inside and dry off." He said pleadingly, trying his best to get you to listen to him.

You thought for a moment, you didn't trust him at all but the way he was speaking you knew he was telling the truth to some extent. It was hard for him to lie to you, you know how Jacob works, you know the subtle mannerisms he has when he's not telling the truth. Considering all of this you finally speak.

"Fine, but if things don't add up or I find out you are still lying, I am gone," You say sternly, pulling his hands away from you and walking up the hill.

When you get to the house, Jacob gives you warm tea and a blanket which you take from him without a word. He comes over and sits across from you. He almost reaches for your hand but stops himself.

"The day that I left your house, something changed, I changed...." He claimed, looking at your reaction with a hint of fear but continued "This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me on this..... I am a werewolf"

You stared at him for a moment before throwing the blanket off and standing up, Jacob followed suit immediately. You threw him a glare before starting to walk out.

"No, No, Y/N wait!" he shouted after you, reaching out and grabbing your hand. "I am telling the truth let me show you" He spoke as he continued outside your hand still in his.

" I swear Jacob if this is a pra....."

You went dead silent as he began taking his boots, and then his shorts off. Now standing in just his underwear. He gave you a curt nod and then started bending and shaking profusely. You could barely blink before your best friend stood in front of you only he wasn't human anymore, he was a massive wolf.

You jumped back a bit as the wolf started coming towards you, noticing your fear he slowly laid down on the ground and gave out a small whine to signal he would not hurt you. You were in complete shock, how was this possible? Everything you ever heard about the stories of the Quileute tribe growing up was true, and your best friend was living proof. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but they were silenced by the wolf standing up and trotting to the back of the house. Jacob then emerged in different clothes than before.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you Y/N" Jacob expressed, grabbing your hands hesitantly until you leaned into the touch slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell me, you know I would never judge you, nor would I ever tell anyone " You pressed before giving him a confused stare "Wait why are you telling me now?"

He looked at you a gave you a crooked smile.

"It's one of the rules that came with the gig" He laughs a bit before pulling you a bit closer. "The reason I can tell you now is because you are my soulmate," He says beaming down at you.

You stare up at him with a bewildered expression.

"I'm your what?" you say breathing out.

"You are my imprint, Y/N. It's a wolf's soulmate, it is the reason for their existence, you feel like it isn't gravity holding you to the ground anymore, it's them. You can be anything the imprint wants you to be, a friend, a protector, a lover, all that matters is that the two are connected. Like vines on trees overlapping each other both on the same path, interlocked." He pauses, putting his hand on your face and caressing your cheek gently.

"I know this might be overwhelming and a lot to handle. I really want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that I said. I'm not going to sit here and blame it all on the wolf because it wasn't, I was jealous. I was jealous that you went on that date with someone that wasn't me and I didn't mean a word that I said about you. I'm going to be fully honest with you from now on, starting with the fact that I have been in love with you since the second grade. I know that trusting me will take time, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn it back. I understand that I have hurt you, so it might take a very long time but I will always be there for you. Everything is up to you, I understand if you want to reject the connection. The connection can be anything you want it to be, but I really truly do not want to lose you and the past two weeks without you have been hell on earth for me. I'm just really sorry Y/N." He pleads letting go of your hands and allowing you to process.

"I... I love you too Jacob. I have for a while now. I'm not going to forgive you easily but I am glad you understand how much you have hurt me. I am willing to give this a shot, mainly because I can feel the connection and would be an idiot if I said that I didn't." You laugh a bit as he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face.

"But if you ever say or do that to me again I will put you in a dog house and leave you there," You say with an evil smile laughing at the way his face drops before he joins in.

You two get out of the rain and drive separately to Emily's house where you meet the pack and they explain in much more detail what being a wolf really entails. You and Emily become quick friends, and as the days go on you slowly fall into a routine that is pure chaos but you wouldn't have it any other way. You and Jacob work on your relationship, slowly building back trust and falling deeper and deeper into love with each other. You have fully accepted your place in a world filled with wolves and life seems to be going great, that is until they tell you exactly why they turn into the big ferocious beasts....... there are vampires in Forks.

[venus-haze]

Power in the Blood (Father Paul Hill x Nun!Reader)

Summary: There’s power in the blood. Father Paul knows this. Soon, you will, too.

Note: Female reader who's only referred to as "Sister," but no other descriptors are used. Also, the newspaper clipping isn't on the wall in this, for obvious reasons. I’ve been working on this fic in one way or another for about a year, but watching The Devils (1971) and Immaculate (2024) earlier this year as well as encouragement from my amazing friend @zaras-really-dreamless finally gave me the push I needed to finish it. Major visual inspiration from this scene in particular. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Major canon divergence. Angst, yearning, and unrequited feelings. Elements of Catholic mysticism. Sexually explicit content which involves dubious consent by way of religious manipulation, members of the clergy engaging in sexual acts, oral sex (f. receiving, but it's related to the stigmata and vampirism), blood play.

In retrospect, Crockett Island was the only place it could have happened. Desolation hung over the remote fishing village like fog in the early mornings, when you’d take your walks before the Monsignor awoke, and you heard the woes of the fishermen as they prepared to sail out for the day—oil spills, restrictive fishing laws, better paying jobs on the mainland but leaving everything they knew behind in exchange. Despite coming from the mainland yourself and otherwise alien to the ways of the dying village, your being a woman of the cloth on the largely Catholic (though predominantly non-practicing) island made the islanders trust you, consider you one of their own a bit more than they otherwise would have as you took on the burden of buoying their spirituality as the Monsignor’s health continued failing, and he could no longer fulfill the task himself.

You’d begged the diocese for help, hardly considered yourself equipped to care for the ailing priest and run a parish, however small, essentially on your own. But for a parish as small as St. Patrick’s, you were all the help the diocese would care to send. The letter you received in response to your detailing all of the things Crockett Island’s parishioners desperately needed boiled down to “wait until the old man kicks it.” 

You supposed it was a miracle the diocese even sent you there in the first place. Though most of the islanders took the arrival of a young nun like yourself as a breath of fresh air, Beverly Keane didn’t seem all too pleased to have her self-appointed position as number two at St. Patrick’s knocked down to number three. She seemed to settle down when it became clear you had no interest in engaging in petty politics in a church that barely counted three dozen people for regular Sunday mass attendance. 

The island’s social life, small as it was, interested you more. People were more open to receiving you as a friend than as a representative of the church, undoubtedly put off by Beverly Keane’s self-righteous fanaticism that veered into cruelty. You got to know the regular parishioners, like Erin Greene, who’d grown up on the island, left for some time, and returned pregnant yet eager to become a mother to her unborn baby. She taught at the island’s small school with Beverly, who encouraged you to take up teaching there, obviously hoping to bring a religious curriculum to the tax-payer funded public school. You declined. 

Besides Erin, and to your chagrin Beverly, who was convinced the two of you were compatriots of some kind despite how often you clashed, you found yourself spending increasing amounts of time with Sheriff Hassan. Despite dutifully filling an essential role in the community, he hardly seemed any closer to gaining acceptance despite a year on Crockett Island. 

The day he and Ali moved onto the island, you had a cold, and thus weren’t part of the unofficial welcoming committee. Your head pounded from the sinus pressure when Beverly brought the Monsignor back to the rectory afterward, and you barely heard what she said. You met Sheriff Hassan a few days later, when you were feeling well enough to shop for yourself and the Monsignor for the week. Among your expectations about Hassan Shabazz, his being handsome enough to make your breath hitch for just a moment before introducing yourself wasn’t on the list. But he was understandably weary of you, expecting the same horrendous treatment he undoubtedly received from Beverly. 

Over time, he found you were only interested in buying groceries and not in underhandedly converting him or Ali. You were both lonely outsiders to the island and found some solace in regular conversations about the mainland, or observations about the islanders, occasionally broaching the topic of religion, which had a comfortable place in the space you two shared in the general store, sometimes over a cup of coffee he’d brew for you. 

You admired him. His dedication to his son, the efficacy with which he performed his thankless job, and the unwavering faith he had in his religion, while yours had long lost its luster since you’d become Monsignor Pruitt’s live-in nurse in all but name. 

But the days became your own when the Monsignor made his trip to the Holy Land, ill-advised considering his health. When you voiced your concerns to the parish, your outsider status was paraded through the discussion by Beverly, who insisted you had no way to understand how much the trip meant to the Monsignor, and by extension, every good, practicing Catholic on the island. At the time, to your frustration, she had won. 

Besides, even if he were there, you weren’t sure a man on death’s door himself would have been able to give Mildred Gunning Last Rites. Torrential rain pounded against the rectory when you could barely hear the phone ring. 

You had picked up with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Sister, it’s—it’s my mom. I think she’s—”

“Sarah, do you want me to come over and see her?”

“Yeah, she’d want that. Just be careful with the rain.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Grabbing a flashlight, you had only half pulled on your raincoat when you hurried outside, in a near sprint to the Gunning house. You almost slipped and fell on the way there, and then you wouldn’t have been any good to anybody, and the last thing Dr. Sarah Gunning needed was to tend to a broken leg while her mother was on her deathbed.

The door was unlocked when you arrived, the house quiet and dark save for a few lamps left on.

“Sarah?” you called out.

She emerged from her mother’s room, eyes red. “I thought I was ready for this a long time ago, but being face-to-face with it…”

“Are you sure this is it?”

“As sure as I can be. She hasn’t been eating. There’s only so much I can do,” Sarah said, her voice breaking in despair. “Sister, I—she’d want you to be here. Even though she didn’t know you very much, I could tell she liked you.”

“Of course,” you whispered, giving her a hug before approaching Mildred’s bedside. 

Despite her labored breathing, she managed a kind smile when you took her weathered hand in yours and prayed the Our Father with as steady of a voice as you could manage. Then, you knelt, pulled the rosary from your raincoat pocket, and prayed until your knees ached and you nearly passed out from exhaustion at staying up so late. You almost thought you had dreamed it, the way she went, as peacefully as drifting off to sleep. It was only the cry of her daughter that pierced through your haze, and you struggled to your feet as you allowed Sarah privacy and called Sheriff Hassan over to certify the death, as was necessary for the burial Mildred would have undoubtedly wanted as a Catholic.

When the Sheriff arrived, about fifteen minutes after you called, you’d become acutely aware your nightgown had soaked through in the rain, and pulled your raincoat more closely over your body, ashamed you’d even forgotten such a detail in your haste.

“I should head back now,” you said. “I’m so sorry again, Sarah. You’ll be in my prayers. I’ll contact the diocese first thing in the morning."

She nodded. "Thank you, Sister."

“Do you need a ride back to the church?” Hassan asked. “This shouldn’t take long.”

You smiled, tempted by his offer, the prospect of spending more time alone with him. Instead, you shook your head. “Thank you, Sheriff. I think I can manage.”

Crockett Island was quiet the following day, when Annie’s son Riley arrived home for the first time in over a decade, following his four year prison sentence. You could tell through his polite greeting he had no interest in speaking with you further than his mother’s introductions. Fair enough.

Monsignor Pruitt was supposed to return that evening, but you had been calling the diocese to try to get confirmation that they could send a priest over to perform the funeral mass if needed. As usual, you got answering machines or the run around of being told to call different offices, none of which could apparently help you. 

When you returned to the rectory after visiting with Sarah Gunning, you noticed the light on in the distance. Beverly had planned to meet the Monsignor at the ferry and bring him home. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe he survived the trip, both there and back.

“Monsignor, it’s me!” you called out. “How was your trip? I’d love to hear about—” You froze when you came face to face with a priest. A priest who wasn’t the Monsignor. Younger, handsome, absolutely unexpected. “Hello. I–I’m sorry, who are you? Father—”

“I’m Father Paul, Paul Hill,” he said kindly. “The diocese sent me.”

“That was quick. I thought they’d been ignoring my messages.”

“Yes, I’m afraid the Monsignor became ill on his trip, and I’m here until he recovers. I hope you don’t mind, I went ahead and brought my things into what I assumed was his room.”

“Please, make yourself at home.” You hastily made a sign of the cross. “But the Monsignor…I don’t think the islanders could take another loss. I’m so sorry, you come here and your first mass is a funeral.”

“Funeral? For who?”

“Mildred Gunning, an elderly parishioner who had been ill with dementia for a few years, I believe. She passed away two nights ago,” you said. “That’s why I’ve been calling the diocese all day. We need someone to perform the funeral mass.”

His deep, brown eyes widened with all the terror of a deer being chased through the woods. “Are–are you sure?”

“Of course I am. I was there when she passed.”

“Did she suffer?”

“No, it was like she had fallen asleep,” you said softly, watching in wonder as tears fell from his eyes. “Father?”

“I’m sorry, Sister. These things affect me deeply.”

You put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Can I make you coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please,” he said, his voice empty, an almost far away sound to it.

“While that’s brewing, I’ll call Dr. Gunning, Mildred’s daughter, and let her know you’re here. I don’t think she’d want any deviation from the typical funeral rites. Her mother was quite devout.”

“Yes, I know.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What was that?”

“Yes, I–I figured.”

He retreated into the Monsignor’s room. When you brought the coffee to him, he requested you leave it outside the door, which you found odd. Even more strange was having to tell Beverly that she missed the Monsignor’s arrival because he wasn’t arriving in the first place, and the diocese forgot to tell you that he’d become ill on his trip and Father Paul was serving as his replacement until he recovered. You privately figured the assignment would be more permanent, as yours had unexpectedly become.

Mildred Gunning’s funeral was held in St. Patrick’s Church less than a day later. A simple, solemn affair that saw the church nearly packed for the first time outside of Christmas or Easter. Mildred had lived and died on Crockett Island, everyone knew her in one way or another. Father Paul conducted the funeral mass as if mourning the Pope himself, and you were particularly struck by his grief, the way he nearly fell apart while giving the homily.

He fared no better at the wake that followed the funeral mass, held in the community center. Father Paul was utterly disinterested in speaking with any of the parishioners who tried to introduce themselves to him or sought solace and spiritual guidance in his presence. Thus, the burden once again fell on your shoulders, and you almost thought the diocese would have been better off ignoring your calls after all.

You sighed. You couldn’t let your cynicism get the best of you. It’d be entirely inappropriate for Father Paul to treat Mildred’s wake as a social hour. Besides, people with such deep empathy for others, especially someone they’d never met, were rare, as reminded to you by Beverly, who made her way over to you with a plate of cheese and crackers and a slight sneer on her face.

“I suppose it’s nice and all, but it’s not like he knew the woman,” Beverly muttered.

“He needs time to adjust,” you said. “This isn’t the best way to start out his tenure here.”

“Yes, well, let’s just hope he gets his act together soon.”

You could swear the diocese had you on some kind of blacklist, the way your calls to them went unanswered, letters returned with vague instructions and empty assurances. Father Paul had no idea how long they intended for him to stay on Crockett Island or the condition of Monsignor Pruitt. 

Your living in the rectory made sense when you were caring for the Monsignor, but with Father Paul fully capable of taking care of himself, you wanted to know if you’d be staying on the island, and if so, if separate arrangements would be made for your own housing. The island was too small, too chatty, for you and Father Paul to be living alone for too long before it was turned into something it wasn’t.

The bitter taste of married life settled on your tongue as you took up most of the responsibilities around the rectory while Father Paul moped . The old man could hardly help with cleaning, and you didn’t want him anywhere near the kitchen, but your new roommate was an able-bodied man who could spare to pick up some slack, couldn’t he?

“I made dinner, if you’re hungry,” you said, emerging from the kitchen and into the living room where he sat on the couch. “Just spaghetti and meatballs. The jar sauce from the store isn’t too bad. I usually add—”

“Red wine and oregano to it. I know.”

“Oh,” you said, taken aback by his statement. “I guess Bev told you. Not much of a secret recipe.”

“You’re pretty young for a nun,” he said, turning to you. “What made you want to give up a normal life for this?”

“It’s my vocation. For as long as I can remember, I knew this was what God called me to do. I never wanted another life.” You sat down next to him, sparing a glance around the room. “This is it for me.”

“Crockett Island?”

You conceded a small smile. “I was hoping for somewhere a little more exciting, but I think there’s a chance for something amazing to happen here.”

He shook his head. “That time’s long passed. Look around you, Sister. People are leaving in droves, and the ones who’ve stayed…it’s just too late.”

“Please, Father, I know this island may seem like it’s dying, and presiding over a funeral as your first mass here doesn’t help that, but the people still need guidance,” you pleaded, taking his hands in yours. You couldn’t contend with the diocese sending you to rot with the rest of the island. It couldn’t be for nothing. “The Monsignor is no longer well enough to fill that need, and I couldn’t do it on my own, but together, I think we can do something great if we try. This might be the island’s last chance to have life breathed into it again.”

“Sister—”

“I agree that Crockett Island is hardly a place anymore, but it’s somewhere to start, isn’t it? We couldn’t have been sent here without a reason.”

He swallowed roughly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re right, Sister. I—Thank you.”

You smiled, relief washing over you at his words, at his assurance you wouldn't have to bring revival to Crockett Island on your own. 

Following your conversation with Father Paul, his attitude completely shifted. He was friendlier with the parishioners, taking extra time to spend with Leeza, offering to hold Riley’s AA meetings in the community center to save him a trip to the mainland, and, inexplicably, he liked Beverly, who’d changed her mind about Father Paul since the wake and warmed up to him. The only time he wavered was when he visited with Sarah Gunning, still grieving the loss of her mother and considering moving her practice off of the island.

He’d return to the rectory on those evenings quiet, morose, seeking the comfort you selflessly offered him. A warm embrace in which he’d bury his face in the crook of your neck. A hand to hold and squeeze in his own, intertwining his fingers with yours. Teetering on the brink of an intimacy you’d made vows against, you weren’t quite sure how to bring it up to him, not when he needed you, and you, him, to fill the hunger in your heart for a man you knew you could never have. 

You allowed the beast to live in you. Fed it. Nurtured it. Cared for it. Guarded it with a shameful protectiveness, shielding it from your regular confessions with Father Paul, in which uttering its name would make it real, and thus ripped away from you and destroyed. 

Ash Wednesday and the first week of Lent were resigned to a haze in your memory, hardly able to think of the beginning of the holiest time of the liturgical year without feeling sick. Not after the potluck. You were sure it had been Beverly, Sheriff Hassan was, too. You knew she was cruel, but to harm an animal, something so innocent…You couldn’t stand to be in her presence for long after that, and silently resented Father Paul for keeping her so close. But you supposed everyone had their vices. 

Yours came to a head in a dream, one that felt all too real, that you could hardly remember when you awoke apart from burning hands on your skin, lips pressed to yours, you and Sheriff Hassan in throes of passion. You laid in bed with a lump in your throat and aching between your legs. You hadn’t experienced a dream like that in…you couldn’t even remember.

The entire time you sat through mass, you thought you were going to be sick. You couldn’t concentrate on the readings or the homily. Taking the Eucharist felt wrong, and your hand shook when you brought the communion wafer to your lips when Father Paul handed it to you. Finally, when mass ended, and you were sure the church was empty, you approached him with trepidation.

“Father, I have something I need to confess.”

“Would you like to go to the confessional?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to hide behind it. I need to be transparent and held accountable.”

He nodded. The two of you sat in a pew, facing each other as you crossed yourselves. 

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

“Three days,” you answered.

“What is it, Sister?”

“I’ve been having lustful thoughts, Father, about someone incredibly close to me, who I care deeply for. Instead of asking the Lord to take these feelings from me, I’ve been indulging in them, and last night I—I had a dream about him. A sexual one that I experienced physical pleasure from.” You were in tears, guilt wracking your body as you spoke. “I’m so ashamed. I should have been stronger. I’ve been sinning against God, exploiting this man in my heart when he’s done nothing to deserve such disrespect. Sheriff Hassan is—”

“Sheriff Hassan?” Father Paul’s gaze darkened ever so slightly, and you leapt to the sheriff’s defense in his absence.

“He didn’t do anything, Father. Nothing more than friendly smiles and kind words, never anything inappropriate. It was me, letting my lustful thoughts ferment instead of nipping them in the bud right away. He committed no sin. It was me.” Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

“Why him?”

You were silent for a moment. “He’s a good man.” Better than most you’d come across. Kind, selfless, just—the virtues that were few and far between among the men of the cloth you had met. Above all else, even when it was difficult, Hassan Shabazz was good. “I love him.”

“You don’t love him, Sister. Lust after him, yes, but you don’t know him, not enough to love him the way you think you do.”

With a shaky, reluctant sigh, you nodded. “Will you help me, Father?”

He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, it’s the least I can do after you helped me through the trial God set out for me when I first arrived here.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get through this together, Sister. Let us pray.”

The following Sunday, you tried to match the enthusiasm he had for ten o’clock mass that morning. You had gotten used to it by then, the way he always seemed to know something you didn’t or was aware of details about the islanders you weren’t keen to even after living there for two years. He was easy to trust, you supposed. 

Sitting in the wooden pew, you focused on following along with mass until the homily following the reading from the Gospel. Father Paul’s homilies were always a bit odd, cryptic, even. You assumed his faith was influenced by mysticism, and sought out books by the likes of St. John of the Cross and St. Francis in an attempt to better understand him. The way he spoke that day unsettled you, a fantastical fanaticism that felt out of place on Crockett Island.

Then, when it was time to receive the Eucharist, there was a solid minute where you were sure you had never hated anyone more in your entire life than you hated him. Telling Leeza Scaroborough to walk, goading the poor girl to step out of her wheelchair in an act of cruelty you couldn’t abide by. You got up from the pew, en route to smack him across the face when she did it. Leeza stood up from her wheelchair, and with tentative steps forward and tears of disbelief and hope in her eyes, she walked up to Father Paul and received the Eucharist.

Everything that followed was a blur, but you knew you were one of the few in attendance who hadn’t broken out into frenzied celebration. Something just wasn’t right. You found yourself hesitant to make eye contact with him when you took communion, and remained quiet even as mass ended, the cacophony of elated voices almost background noise to you.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I need to speak to our dear Sister in confidence. I’m sure you all understand,” he said, murmurs of affirmation from the congregants who had crowded around him, except for Bev, who had a puss on her face at being excluded.

Father Paul ushered you into the sacristy, closing the door behind you.

“Is something wrong, Sister?” he asked.

“How can anything be wrong? Leeza Scarborough can walk again.”

“Yes, a miracle occurred in this very parish, right before our eyes, yet you seem…hesitant.”

You chewed on your lip before murmuring, “Seeing isn’t always believing.”

“You were the one who told me this island needed life brought back to it, who said we could achieve great things together. Now I’ve done that, by the grace of God Himself, and you have cold feet?”

“It’s not that.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“You know I do,” you said, trying to ignore the lump in your throat. “Maybe my faith is still weak—I’m still weak. I’m sorry, Father.”

“You’re not weak, Sister.”

“I think I’m going to get some air,” you said.

He nodded, distressed by your continued lack of enthusiasm. “Alright.”

Leaving St. Patrick’s through the side door in the sacristy, you tried to muster up the joy and faith you were supposed to feel, but found yourself coming up disappointingly empty. You had seen it with your very own eyes, and had been standing right there when Leeza walked for the first time in years. It couldn’t have been a trick, not orchestrated or premeditated, not by her. But Father Paul seemed so certain. Was his faith that much stronger than yours? Strong enough that he could be a true miracle worker, a vessel of God Himself on Crockett Island of all places?

Even the more skeptical congregants present, like Erin and Riley, had bared witness to it. Could attest to what had happened just as everyone else had, as you could. As a nun, you were undoubtedly expected to believe, be among the most fervent of Father Paul’s advocates. Beverly wasted no time in declaring the act a miracle worthy of the Vatican’s attention. Your faith still wavered despite what should have been undeniable proof. 

You’d lost track of how long you’d been walking around the island, but the sun was beginning to set and you realized you were tired and hungry. The general store wasn’t much farther of a walk from where you ended up while mindlessly wandering, and so you made the trek into town, telling yourself you were getting a few groceries for yourself and Father Paul. Really, the only person you knew you could speak to without judgment would be in there.

When you entered, Hassan greeted you with an emotional distance you expected. He probably figured you’d be among the dozens of people eager to relay Leeza’s miracle to him, underhandedly attempting to invalidate his own faith. 

Grabbing a jar of sauce and a box of pasta, you brought them up to the counter. Your mouth was dry while he rang up the groceries, but you couldn’t help asking, “Have–um–have you seen Leeza recently?” 

He nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Walked right in here and bought a Twinkie earlier.”

“Amazing, how it happened.”

“I know about what happened to Leeza. I don’t believe what happened to Leeza.”

“Neither do I.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“It doesn’t sit right with me,” you said. “It felt more like a show was being put on than a miracle. I don’t think she had anything to do with what happened, but he had to have done something. He was so sure she would walk, and I just felt angry, betrayed that he’d make a spectacle in mass. In all honesty, Sheriff, my faith has been wavering for a while, but this didn’t make it any stronger.”

“It makes me feel a little more sane to hear you say that.”

“Well, if anyone can get to the bottom of this, I’m sure it’s you.” You smiled, taking the bags of groceries from the counter. “Have a good night, Sheriff.”

“You too, Sister.”

Walking back to the rectory, you wondered if anything would be able to make you change your mind about actually bearing witness to a miracle.

Father Paul hugged you as soon as you walked through the door. “I was about to send out a search party for you.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Father. I just needed time to think.”

He looked at the grocery bag in your hand. “And to see the Sheriff.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sister, something incredible is happening here. I need to know you’re on my side,” he said, his urgency striking you like lightning. 

“I am. I want to be. Please just be patient with me. This is—it’s a lot to process.”

“I can’t do this without you,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I need you.” His gaze fell to your lips.

“I should start on dinner,” you whispered, pulling away from him.

“Let me, you cook enough for me already,” he said, taking the bag from you. He pulled out the jar of sauce. “Red wine and oregano, right?”

You nodded. “That’s right.”

“Make yourself comfortable out here. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

The following half hour or so was unbearably tense, and you could hardly focus on the book sitting in your lap, The Dialogue of Divine Providence, while he cooked. The two of you ate in near silence, and you retired to your room early, falling asleep almost as soon as you changed into your nightgown and crawled into bed.

Burning pain seared your limbs when you awoke in the middle of the night, the pungent scent of iron assaulting your nose, and for a moment, you thought you were dying. You reached over to the lamp on your nightstand, your arm heavy as you moved it. With trepidation, you pulled the cord, a phantom sensation in your hand as you did so. 

Soft, white light from the bulb illuminated your beside. Lifting your hands to your face, you let out a panicked whimper at the gaping wounds in your palms, gently bleeding crimson and flowing down your arms to your nightgown. The fabric around your torso was blotched with blood, each tinge of pink becoming red with every ragged breath you took. You tried kicking at the covers, but found it excruciatingly difficult, and to your horror, discovered identical wounds to the ones in your hands through both of your feet.

Your hands shook as you screwed your eyes shut, telling yourself it was a dream, and that when you opened your eyes, the blood would be gone, the wounds healed. Except the pain was all too real, pulsing in your wounds, tears stinging your eyes as you choked out a sob. Your simple bedroom, with little more than a bookshelf, desk, chair, and crucifix on the wall, threatened to suffocate you as your panic set in.

A groan pulled from your lips as you pushed yourself out of bed, your legs nearly giving out beneath you. The strange sensation of your bare feet on the wooden floorboards made you feel dizzy, or maybe it was blood loss. Each step forward was more agonizing than the last, but you needed help. You needed someone else to see you, a witness to what was happening. 

“Father Paul!” you cried out from the doorway, your voice hoarse and low, barely carrying across the hallway. “Father, wake up!” Mustering what strength you could, you threw yourself against his bedroom door, your closed, bleeding fist erratically banging against it. “Father, please!”

“Sister, what’s going—” 

As soon as he opened the door, you collapsed into his arms, sending him stumbling backward with the sudden burden of your body on his. He looked at you, gaping at the blood that covered you—and him. 

“Father?” 

“I should call Dr. Gunning.”

You shook your head frantically. “Don’t! Not yet.” 

“What happened?”

“I woke up, and I was like this.” Your bleeding hands clenched around the hem of your nightgown, keeping it at your thighs. “I’m too afraid to look.”

“May I?” he asked, his own hands shaking as his fingers brushed the blood-drenched fabric.

Staring at him for a moment, reckoning with the further vulnerability you were about to display to him, you breathed a soft, “Yes.”

He pulled your nightgown up, the fabric sticking to your skin from the congealed blood. You stared at the ceiling as he lifted the garment over your head, too embarrassed and mortified to acknowledge your body bare before him. His fingertips brushed your torso, and you moaned. In your horror, you looked down to see deep, fresh wounds on your sides.

“Oh my God.”

“Do you know what this is, Sister?”

Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head. “It can’t be stigmata. I’m not pure enough, not devout enough. He’d never—”

“Of course He would. He saw you needed faith, a reminder of His love for you, and look at you now,” Father Paul said with hushed fervor as he took in the state of you. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed your forehead, then pressed his lips to each of your weeping palms, and then your feet. 

Desire twisted in your gut at the sight of him beneath you. He kissed your feet again, a terrifying hunger in his gaze as he brought his lips higher up your legs, his hands brushing your skin with a reverence you felt unworthy of receiving. 

You watched as he dipped his fingers into one of your side wounds and then brought the digits to his mouth, tasting your blood from them. With a ragged breath, he brought his face to your torso. His tongue plunged in the valley of your wound, lapping up the blood that gently flowed from it. A moan tore from your throat, pleasure rolling across your skin as if you truly were a vessel for the divine. Surely it was the same sensation that inspired St. Teresa of Avila’s eroticism, a mystical ecstasy that saw her driven out of villages and cloister herself in search of the purest, incorporeal love.

Except before you knelt a man of God whom you could reach out and touch, eagerly devouring your flesh as if able to find salvation in your blood. His teeth grazed your skin, eliciting a shudder that echoed through you like a worn-out hymn. Words failed you, the pleasure you received from his ravenous consumption of you overtaking the pain from your wounds. 

Holding his head against your side wound, you wanted more, the feeling of him indulging in you. Taste and eat. Everything you felt and saw was in shades of violently blossoming red, deeper and deeper with each curl of his tongue and brush of his fingertips, his unadulterated worship, his veneration for you, serving as the flowing cup of God’s grace and mercy.

Rapturous bliss hummed through you like an ecstatic prayer, pulsing in your wounds on your hands, feet, and sides. You felt like he was part of you, a mystical union between yourself and him.

But just as high as he’d taken you, you quickly came down. The gravity of the situation, of what he’d done, what you’d let him do, weighed on your conscience more heavily than any illicit feeling you’d ever harbored toward Sheriff Hassan.

Father Paul took your face in his hands, eyes glistening with a joyous faith you no longer envied. “Your own miracle, Sister. Do you see it now?”

“You did this to me?” you asked in distressed horror. “You—Who are you?”

“Not me, Sister,” he said. “Here, let me show you. You’ll understand everything. I think you’re ready.”

He held out his hand, and despite everything in you screaming otherwise, you took it.

[cherryandsugar]

Hello! I’d like to request a post-game or post-Cazador fic where the reader/Tav takes Astarion on his first real date (or first in 200 yrs anyways). It would be so cute to see Astarion all surprised/excited/flustered to experience something so ‘normal’. Thank you! :)

did it take me 8 months to answer your request? yes. am i sorry? absolutely. will it happen to someone else again? most definitely. either way, i hope you enjoy, this was very fun to write!

Title: You And Him and the Ocean

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Reader

WC: 1,133

Warnings: none! all fluff!

Summary: You plan a surprise for Astarion

---

“Keep them closed!” you commanded giddily as you led a bewildered Astarion through the lower city streets, “It’s a surprise!!”

“So you keep reminding me, darling,” Astarion sighed behind you, exasperated by your secretive behavior. His grip on your hand tightened as he felt another slight tug, your excitement palpable. “But you have yet to tell me what this ‘surprise’ of yours is for.”

“Of course, silly, that would ruin it,” you reasoned.

“Well we can’t have that,” Astarion huffed. Despite his seemingly annoyed tone, he kept his eyes dutifully shut at your request, trusting you to guide him to your destination, wherever that may be. Although he may not understand your secrecy, he’ll be damned if he’s the reason your excitement wavers. 

A cool breeze washes over the both of you, ruffling his hair. He has to fight the urge to run his hands through it, to make sure he was still presentable, of course. Faintly, he can hear the distant lapping of waves upon a shore, and he wonders just how far you’ve dragged him from home.

Since the fall of the Nether Brain the two of you had been living in a lovely little flat near the Society of Brilliance in the Lower City. He had insisted you find something more suitable in the Upper City, but you had laughed and said “Sure, my love, as soon as they clear the rubble and rebuild it from the ground up.” He supposed you had a point there. Besides, the Lower City wasn’t awful. The people there were much more familiar with your exploits, having spent most of your journey there, helping people where you could before ultimately saving the entire city. The people were also much more accepting of his vampirism, which was quite difficult to keep secret with the absence of a certain tadpole and the publicity of your groups’ good deeds. People knew him here, or knew of him at least. They accepted him. And you were happy here, having grown up and lived in the Lower City before all of that illithid nonsense.

And he was grateful for your apparent familiarity with these streets as you led him around another corner, never faltering in your guidance. The sounds of (what he assumed to be) the ocean grew louder, and the breeze ever so slightly stronger. The night air is chilly of course, but nothing he’s not used to, not after his lamentable return to the shadows. 

You slow in front of him, stopping for a moment before you speak, “Okay, now be careful, we’re about to go down a few stairs,” you warn.

He’s about to make another quip about your foolishness before he feels you start walking again, slower this time as you descend. He’s slower still, taking his time to find each step before trusting himself to shift his weight.

“Almost there,” you reassure him, “Last one!” and his shoes sink slightly into sand. Right, so definitely the beach, then, he thinks.

“Honestly dearest, whatever it is you can just tell me,” he jests, “There’s no need for all the drama.”

“Hush you,” you respond, “Come along, just a few more steps.” You guide him along the sand until his feet step onto something more solid. “Okay, okay, and… open!” you exclaim.

Finally, he opens his eyes. He was right, standing on the beginning of a short dock he sees the ocean stretch out before him, as if the salt in the air hadn’t already given that away. The clear night sky allows the moonlight to reflect off the shimmering waves. But what’s less obvious to him is what lies directly ahead. Lining the dock are lit candles of every color, leading to a lovely little overwater-gazebo. You, never having dropped his hand, begin to lead him towards it, walking slightly in front of him on the way. He followed soundlessly, taking everything in as you ducked under the roof of the gazebo.

Sitting before him, was a cozy looking blanket, set with two glasses, a bottle of wine and a lovely vase of roses. All around you, lanterns hung from the rafters, illuminating the space in a warm glow. The light seemed to swim in your eyes. You took a seat on the quilt and looked up at him expectantly.

Hesitantly, as if his bones were made of lead, he lowered himself down, still looking to you for assurance, “What is this?” he all but whispered. 

You tilted your head slightly to the side and blinked at his question, Gods you were adorable. “What do you mean?” you half-laughed, “It’s a date! Do you like it?”

If he had to breathe, he’s sure the breath would have been cleared from his chest. All this, for him? The lights, the wine, the romantic setting? Surely it was too good to be true, you were too good to be true. He looked around, almost as if lost, and he noticed a furrow form between your brows, whether from concern or confusion he couldn’t tell.

“You did all this for me?” he breathed, slowly lowering himself to join you on the blanket.

“Of course I did. It’s just wine and a blanket, Astarion. You act like I’ve built you a palace, are you okay?” you finished on a concerned note, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m quite alright, it’s just… no one’s ever done something like this for me,” he explained, still looking out over the water.

“Oh,” you hesitated for a moment, “then I guess I’ll need to do things like this for you more often,” you finished with a cheeky smile, taking his hand back into your own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

He squeezed back, turning to lock eyes with you, “Gods, I love you. Have I told you that recently?”

“Hmmm, let me think, only every single day. But, you could tell me once more if you really feel like it,” you joked.

“I love you,” he stated. No frills, no embellishments, just love. Just you and him and the ocean. 

“I love you too,” you replied, closing your eyes and leaning forward for a kiss, which he eagerly supplied. Your lips were soft and light against his own. A slow, lazy thing between two people who had all the time in the world, and no one they’d rather spend it with. You gradually separated, and opened your eyes to meet his. The lantern light sparkled in your eyes. He'd never felt so loved, so valued.

You broke eye contact first, taking the bottle of wine you'd prepared and pouring two glasses.

"Shall we?" you asked, raising your glass.

"We shall," he agreed, lifting his own to clink against yours.

"To the first of many," you toasted.

The first of many indeed.

[dixons-sunshine]

Punishment Enough | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: After Beth's death, Daryl took it out on himself. He hunted for the group, but refused to feed himself. One day, you've had enough, and you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: Post Terminus; Pre Alexandria.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, blood.

Word count: 3k.

A/n: Alright, here's yet another vamp!Daryl fic to add to the growing number. This was originally supposed to be a 1k word thing, but it got way longer than I had anticipated lol. (ALSO, yes, I know some things in this isn't factual to most vampire things we see online, but I took some creative liberty and wrote it in a way that I liked.) Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“This is getting out of hand,” your leader and friend, Rick Grimes, whispered to you as he watched Daryl disappear into the woods for the millionth time since your journey on the road began a mere two weeks ago. “He needs to feed. He's going to die otherwise.”

You sighed as you watched one of your closest friends disappear beyond the treeline. You continued your snail's pace of a trek next to Rick, the heat from the blazing summer sun beating down on you relentlessly. Your stomach grumbled with hunger and you were thirsty beyond belief, but you knew that it couldn't compare to the discomfort the archer was experiencing. You had eaten, even if just a little, a few hours ago, while he hadn't fed since Beth had died, which was at that point already two weeks prior.

You knew that if he kept that up, he would die within the next few dies, maybe even the next few hours. He was punishing himself, and soon, he would pay the price for it.

“Rick? I don't mean to interrupt whatever intelligent discussion you were having with miss Y/n over here, but Rosita and I have managed to locate a river on the map not too far from here. If you send two people down to replenish our water supply, we should be ready to move on with our trek in about thirty minutes.”

Rick stared Eugene down for a few moments. You were sure that he was going to turn down the offer, but to your surprise and great relief, Rick finally conceded.

“We need to rest anyway, so okay. An hour. That's all I'm willing to offer up,” Rick told Eugene. Your leader whistled to capture everyone's attention, and raised his voice to be heard clearly. “We stop for now. Eugene says that there's a river not too far from here. Tara, Glenn, you two go refill our water supply. The rest of you, get as much rest as you can. We move again in an hour.”

Everyone nodded and dispersed, leaving you alone with your benevolent leader. You eyed the spot you had last seen Daryl, all the sounds and sights around you being evaporated from your mind. However, you were startled when Rick snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, recapturing your attention again.

“How about you go after him and see if you can talk to him?” Rick suggested, lightly patting you on the shoulder in encouragement. “If there's anyone he might listen to, it's you.”

“No, he won't listen to me,” you denied, a sullen expression on your face. “If he won't even listen to Carol, what chance do I have of getting through to him?”

Rick pursed his lips, trying to keep the words that wanted to spill from his lips to himself. He couldn't betray his found brother's trust like that. He wouldn't. That was something Daryl had to tell you on his own time, even if it took years to do so. All Rick could do in that moment was gently urge you to go talk to the man.

“Believe me, I have a feeling that you might be able to break through to him. Just go try, please? I don't want him to die just because he blames himself for something that isn't his fault.”

You inhaled sharply, but ultimately agreed. “Okay,” you mumbled, handing your bag over to Rick, but keeping your compound bow and knife handy just in case you needed it. “If I'm not back by the time you guys need to move on—”

“We go on without you,” Rick finished for you, slinging your bag over his shoulder. “I know. Just go check on him. See if you can get him to drink from something.”

You sent your leader a small nod, and turned on your heel to disappear into the woods. You walked in the general direction of where you saw the archer disappear, soon finding yourself surrounded by trees and dirt. You kept your eyes on the ground, lazer focused on the faint tracks of the man you were trying to find.

A chittering sound from above you redirected your attention from the ground to the area of where you heard it. Up in a tree, on a branch low enough to reach if you jumped, you spotted a total of three squirrels, all sitting in a straight line as they went on doing whatever squirrels fancied as entertainment. They were blissfully unaware of your lurking presence, so it made it easy to line up the shot perfectly.

By some stroke of luck, the arrow found it's mark in all three squirrels. Proud and a little giddy at the prospect of food, you walked towards the tree and jumped to get your prey from the branch. Marveling at the kill you made, you almost missed the sound of a twig snapping in the distance. Almost.

On instinct, you dropped the arrow holding the three squirrels and loaded your bow with another arrow, turning around and releasing it in the direction of the sound. The arrow flew towards the walker, but the walker caught it with ease. Calming down and allowing your eyes to adjust, you could see that it was not a walker. Instead, it was the very man you were tracking down.

Daryl Dixon.

“If ya wanna kill me, yer gon' have to do a lot better than an arrow,” Daryl mused, walking towards you to hand the deadly object back to you. “Wha' the hell are ya doin' here?”

“Looking for you,” you stated matter-of-factly, putting your arrow away. You looked up into Daryl's eyes, but instead of finding the usual blue irises that you have grown to love, you found red coloured ones in their place. A clear sign that he was starving. “We're worried about you. Rick thought I might be able to talk some sense into you.”

“Dun' need someone to talk no sense into me,” Daryl grumbled, turning around to stalk away again. “M'fine. Dun' need no damn babysitter. Leave me alone.”

Picking up the dead squirrels from the ground, you took off in a jog behind Daryl to keep up with his speed. Even though he was only walking, his enhanced speed made his pace faster than the average human's, hence why if he wanted to, he could lose you with ease.

“Daryl! Daryl, wait!” you pleaded with him, finally catching up enough to grab his arm. “Daryl—”

“I said, leave me alone, damnit!” Daryl roared, spinning around to look at you. A furious glare painted his features, but instead of being met with fear, he was met with a stubborn glare instead. Well, he could give you points for that, but he wouldn't give in to whatever you wanted from him. “Wha' dun' ya understand? I dun' need yer concern or yer company. M'fine on my own. I've been alone for decades. Dun' need to change tha' now.”

“Daryl, you need to feed,” you explained as calmly as you could, trying to keep your anger in check. It wouldn't do anyone any good if you were to snap at him right at that moment.

“M'fine,” Daryl replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Really? Because if you were fine, your eyes wouldn't be red right now,” you countered, motioning to his eyes. “Do you wanna die, Daryl? Because if you don't feed, that's exactly what's gonna happen.”

“Dun' need ya to lecture me, woman!” Daryl exclaimed loudly, waving his hand around in anger. “I know my own damn body better than ya do! I've been like this for a long time. I know when I need to feed and when I dun'!”

“Then why the fuck can't you see that you need to feed right now?!” you snapped, pushing Daryl's chest for emphasis. The man barely moved, his inhuman strength countering your attempts to sway him.“I may not be a vampire, and I may not know exactly how being one works, but I do know that you're either going to die, or lose control and hurt one of us. Is that what you want? Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't have to use all of your willpower to refrain from lunging at me and draining all of the blood from my body. Tell me that drinking my blood doesn't sound good to you right now.”

Daryl's silence only confirmed your suspicions. You scoffed and shook your head, taking one of the squirrels off the arrow and extending it towards the stubborn archer.

“Feed. Don't even think about saying no because I swear I'll fucking kill you.”

He knew there was no use of yelling at you anymore. What was the use of getting mad at you for caring about him? If anything, knowing that you did made him feel all funny inside. However, Daryl still shook his head in denial, refusing to take the dead animal from you. “Nah. Y'all need the meat to survive. If I drink the blood, my venom will taint the meat and then y'all can't eat it.”

“Taint the meat?” you questioned in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows. “I've seen you drink from a human before and they didn't turn. How's this any different?”

“Humans are different,” Daryl explained. “M'not gon' explain it to ya because I dun' even fully understand myself, but all I know is we dun' have control over our venom when it comes to animals. We do with humans. Tha's the most basic explanation I have fer ya.”

You nodded in understanding. You scanned your surroundings for a moment before your eyes fell on an empty can, and you had a lightbulb moment. You walked over to pick up the aforementioned object, before crouching down. You picked up one of the squirrels and, very carefully so that you didn't accidentally nick your finger, cut it in multiple places to drain it of its blood, into the can.

You could hear Daryl inhale sharply when the smell of blood flooded his nostrils. His already bloodred eyes darkened, and you could tell that his self-restraint was dwindling by the second. You had to make quick work of your activities, and fast, otherwise Daryl would lunge for the blood. And you didn't know whether or not the blood he went for would be the squirrel's, or yours.

Once the can was practically overflowing with blood, you hastily got up and pushed the object into his hands, some blood trickling over the edge and onto his hands.

“Drink,” you ordered him, leaving no room for argument.

Grumbling to himself, he brought the can up to his lips to slowly take a sip. However, as soon as that first drop of blood fell on his tongue, he drank the rest of it in hurried, messy gulps. Blood trickled down the sides of his mouth, and you had to resist the urge to bring your hands up to wipe the blood away.

In five seconds flat, the entire can was empty. Some colour returned to the archer's cheeks, and his eyes slightly changed from a deep crimson to a dull red. However, even though Daryl handed the can back to you as a way to say he was done, you knew it wasn't nearly enough. He needed way more than that, even if he wouldn't admit it. And, come hell or high water, you would make sure he drank more.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled, wiping at the blood and making an even bigger mess on his face. “Ya satisfied now?”

“Not even remotely,” you mused, picking up the three dead squirrels, one of which now had its blood drained, and offered one of them to him. “Here, take it. We need to head back and there isn't time to drain another one for you. Don't worry about one lousy squirrel. We'll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts, Daryl,” you cut him off, forcing the dead critter into his hands. You picked up your knife and sheathed it, before adjusting your bow on your back. You sent Daryl a look and walked off, calling to him over your shoulder. “C'mon. We gotta go.”

Cleverly sensing that there was no room for argument, Daryl followed behind you with a frustrated huff, shaking his head to himself at your stubbornness. However, your stubbornness was one of the many traits that made him feel drawn to you, one of the many things that made you perfect in his eyes. Well, it was perfect when the stubbornness wasn't directed towards him.

Unable to resist the urge any longer due to the taste he got from it earlier, Daryl brought the squirrel up to his mouth. He sunk his fangs into the dead animal and began to drink mouthfuls of the delicious crimson, his deep hunger not going away but being satiated for the time being.

“You need to stop this, Dar,” you began, shaking your head to yourself. “You need to stop punishing yourself. Beth's death isn't your fault. You need to know that. And you need to stop punishing yourself for it. Beth wouldn't want you to starve yourself. You know she wouldn't, so stop doing it, please. Blaming yourself for a death that wasn't even remotely your fault is punishment enough.”

Daryl drained the squirrel of the last of its blood, before withdrawing his mouth from the creature. He stared at you in wonder, walking beside you silently as he pondered over your words. He didn't believe that Beth's death wasn't his fault. He probably never would, but what he did believe was that Beth wouldn't want him to die. The girl voiced in so many different ways that she wanted him to live. And even though he felt terrible about her death, he decided that he would honour her. He would live because she couldn't. He would honour her by doing what she wanted him to do—he would live.

And, once he built up enough courage for it, he would honour her by following her advice and admitting his feelings to you.

The two of you walked from the treeline and back towards where the rest of the group rested. When the two of you made yourselves known, everyone looked up and shared similar looks of relief at the sight of the blood on Daryl's face and the drained squirrel in his hands.

Everyone except Gabriel, who looked at Daryl in disgust and fear, but was wise enough not to say anything. The last time he had voiced his obvious disdain towards the archer because of what he was, he was met with a punch from you and quite the amount of hateful words and glares from the rest of the group. It was clear that nobody would stand for anything but acceptance towards what Daryl was, and he appreciated that.

“Glad to see you're looking better, brother,” Rick voiced to Daryl, getting up to give his found brother a quick hug.

“Thanks,” Daryl thanked him, patting him lightly on the back before withdrawing from the hug. “She wouldn't let me not drink anythin', so ya really should be glad 'bout her. And she found y'all some dinner.”

“Sweet!” Carl voiced excitedly, eliciting a bunch of laughs from most of the adults there. “My dad found us a few rabbits, too.”

Rick took the squirrels from you with a grateful nod. “Seems like we're gonna be here for another hour or so. Let's cook these up, get ourselves regenerated.”

As everyone fell into their own separate conversations and Rick and Carl took it upon themselves to start a small fire, you walked over to a tree before sliding down against it, looking up at Daryl who had followed you there.

“M'surprised ya didn't offer yer blood to me,” Daryl told you, sliding down next to you.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you asked him in genuine confusion, staring into his eyes that were busy turning back to their usual beautiful blues.

“The ladies back at the prison always offered their blood to me when I couldn't feed on animals. Figured ya'd do the same.”

“Yeah, no. I like you and all, but that's not something you're gonna get from me anytime soon, no matter how hot you are,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Ya think m'hot?” Daryl asked in surprise, eyeing you with a small smile.

“I—shut up. Don't let it go to your head,” you mumbled, hugging your knees to your chest.

Daryl chuckled. “I won't,” he promised, looking over at you with a soft look in his eyes. “Thanks again. Fer the squirrel and the lecture. I know I said I didn't need it, but I did. So, thanks.”

You smiled and brought one of your hands up to rest on Daryl's knee, rubbing your thumb against it softly. “Of course. I'd do anything for you, Daryl.”

Daryl ducked his head in shyness. However, he couldn't help the way he felt about you. In less than an hour, you had managed to track him down, give him a much needed lecture, and made him feed on something. You truly were amazing to him, but he didn't know if you'd ever feel the same about him. The two of you were so vastly different, in personalities and species, so he wouldn't be surprised if his feelings were one-sided.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, however, you did feel the same. And that first night in Alexandria, you showed him exactly how you felt about him.

[knightyoomyoui]

[COMMISSION] LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT  | TWICE x Male Reader | CHAPTER 1: "A Nightmarish First Encounter"

Welcome to another brand new TWICE fic series of mine! This story will serve both as an adaptation and a soft reboot of the TWICE horror-comedy book titled “Living With Vampires” written by SaiDaChae29 published in 2020 which was sadly left discontinued until this day. For this one, it scrapped some of the parts from the original while others were kept and applied changes which will lead to its direct continuation. Special mention also to @nchris00 who ordered a commission and entrusted me to recreate this interesting story as his request. Hope this one won’t disappoint! Thank you so much again! -> Read the PROLOGUE here <- “LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT” By knightyoomyoui Commissioned by: @nchris00 Part: CHAPTER 1 : "A Nightmarish First Encounter" Word Count: 5,879

2 YEARS AGO

I knocked at the house where there was an old man living in there that I used to help throwing the garbage every night. As he opened the door, he greeted me with a curious gaze as soon as he saw me standing in front of his doorway.

“Jeonghoon? What is it?”

“Uhh hey pops uhm… I was just wondering if you have some extra food left there?” It took some courage to ask that from him, since this is my first time begging from somebody straight into their home for some food to eat. Also, I just did this now from him because he only just know me as a hobo who helps people throw trash in their neighboorhood.

“I already ate the leftovers that I collected few days ago so… if you won’t mind, can I-”

“You came at the right time, Jeonghoon. Ofcourse I will.” He nodded understandably after cutting off my words. I didn’t find it disrespectful at all now that he responded the same thing I was expecting for him to say to me.

He left me in his doorway to grab something from his kitchen. I heard some metal clanging and probably procelains, maybe grabbing something from the plates. I was curious but I remained in his doorway, without any intention to come inside and do something that would break his trust.

Because I will never do that. I may have know how it feels to lose something… but just because it happened worse to me that doesn’t mean I have to make others feel what I felt.

It’s painful, enough to have your life get destroyed in an instant.

Which is what I’ve been going through these days. Imagine I was having these things for me too until that person I thought would be the nicest one among everyone took it all away from me and didn’t spare nothing.

I didn’t noticed I was too occupied at my thoughts when pops here even had to pat my chest twice to steal my attention. “Hey, are you okay young guy? You must be spacing out.”

“Oh u-uhm… I-I’m really sorry pops, I didn’t heard what you said.”

“No don’t worry, I just called your name repeatedly and you can’t hear me, so I checked up on you and I found you hear staring at nothing.” The old man waves it off for me. I looked at his hands and he was carrying a tupperware of the food he cooked for dinner.

“I cooked too much that I wasn’t able to finish it all, that’s why I said that you came here at the right time because I feel a bit dismayed at leaving this extra for tomorrow.” Pops said to me. He handed it to me and I accepted it.

“Do you want to eat here?”

“I would be honored, pops but I think i’m fine out there. I would like to grab some fresh air afterwards.” 

He nodded and he took my answer well. “Okay, eat well Jeonghoon.”

“Thanks a lot again, pops. Good night.”

“You too, kid.”

I bowed again to double the respect I have for his kindness and he smiled softly for me because I helped him close the door. I looked at the beef steak he has for me and probably this is the first day since I lost a home that I smiled with pure genuine.

I looked for some spare bench here along the road and thankfully I found one where I can sit and enjoy this meal I have tonight. I opened the container and smelled the food, oh it was surely mouth-watering and fragrant. 

I prayed as my gratitude to have this kind of food despite of my poor situation. Without wasting much time, I grabbed the spoon he gave for me and I ate my dinner in less than three minutes, an effect of the hunger I was tried to hold onto since earlier.

After I finished my dinner, I went to my scraps to place this in a plastic so that I can return this to pops tomorrow. Then I went back at the spot where I decided to sleep along with my carton as my sleeping mat to make myself more comfortable.

I laid on the couch and stared at the stars above, deeply wondering what the future still awaits for me even after my life had its rock bottom state. Will I still be able to save myself and get back up to slowly reclaim what I never lost in the first place or… if I will be lucky…

Is there someone else out there who will be willing to lend me a hand and assist me with it?

I don’t know exactly, but not gonna lie I don’t lose hope yet. Well, I just think that’s what I should do while I’m still breathing and living you know? I don’t want to waste this opportunity yet, that’s why i have to find a way to look for something that will add more purpose of why i’m living right now. 

I still believe that just because we lost something in our life doesn’t mean we remain worthless forever. 

Anyways, enough of these deep thoughts. I just want to relax myself and call this a day. I just hope there’s a karma awaiting for that person who made me like this. There’s no instances that someone can just ran away freely after doing something reckless to others who did nothing wrong to them.

I closed my eyes and breathe deeply before I let my body soak into slumber.

However, few hours later I suppose, well since I don’t have a watch or a clock -I do have my phone with me but it’s still lowbat since I didn’t get to have my charger with me when I got abandoned-, my ears caught something irritating that woke my senses back up even if it doesn’t want to yet since it’s still midnight.

It was gibberish loud and since it’s slightly audible, I can tell that those noises were coming just nearby from me. I slowly opened my eyes and I blinked rapidly as I try to hear the noises again that caused my peaceful sleep to be rudely interrupted.

I groaned as my reaction before I stood back up. The sound became much clearer now, and I grabbed some of the words they’re talking about. Not being overly interested in gossips, but I do caught that they’re talking about ‘paying something because it’s already due’ thingie.

I looked around to find out what it is, and what I saw didn’t gave me a surprise, it just explained why the sound was so close to me.

There are three kids being cornered by a tandem of intimidating guys cornering them from left to right as they ask them about something.

They’re too busy at what they’re talking about so I tried to hid myself from the nearby lamppost to eavesdrop their conversation more.

“That’s a part of our deal, and we told you that each of us would respect our rules and roles here. We let you borrow our money… and you have to pay us back on the due date.” The guy on the right said, and he’s talking directly at that tallest kid who looks like he’s protecting those two little kiddos he has with him from them.

“I’m telling you sir please, I’m going to pay for it I know about that! It’s just that what I’ve been saving as of now isn’t enough yet to reach that amount.” He replied while trembling in fear.

“And do you think it’s a good thing that even if you don’t want your deadline to pass, you have no choice but to let it? Do we look like we are nice enough to give a second chance?” The left guy said, stepping forward to scare the three kids more.

I understood their situation now. So this kid took a loan agreement with them and these guys are the sharks who are trying to collect the money they gave to the kid as per the agreement says. I get it that they’re just following the rules but… does it really have to come this way?

“Look kid, you better do something right now to pay what you requested for us or else… we are the ones who will look for an alternative.”

“And hey man, I think I know what we should took rather.” He grinned evilly at his partner on the right before his sight landed on the kids.

He tried to reach the arm of that little guy but the tallest one sways his hand away to avoid having contact with the kid. “Get your hands off from them!”

Wait… oh no, are they thinking about the kids being the substitute payment for this guy’s balance?

“Then pay us right now or else you won’t be going to see these rats ever again!”

“No please, I’m begging you leave them out of this!” He shook his head and tried to rid them away while pleading for mercy.

“Shut up!” The left dude pulled his wavering hand at them and shoo-ed him away from the kids. My eyes largened and felt nervous for this guy and what these dudes would do to the poor kids who are crying now in fear.

“THEY HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!!”

“WELL THEY ARE NOW, BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT THEM INTO THIS MESS YOU SHOULD’VE AVOIDED IF ONLY YOU COULD’VE PAID US!” The right dude locked his grip on this kid’s slim arm. It tried to force himself out of the hold until this kid tried to bit his knuckle, making the dude scream in pain.

“AAAAISSSHHH, YOU LITTLE DEVIL!” He shook his hand before looking at the kid dangerously and unexpectedly slapped its face.

“No… NO!!!” The guy tried to approach the dude but he only received a huge blow onto his midsection, shutting him off. 

I couldn’t take this sight anymore, so I have to do something for these younglings. I know I’m not that much of a skilled person when it comes to self-defense or challenging somebody in a combat but… I can’t just let these kids to end up somewhere with fate unknown in the hands of these bastards.

Stupidly, I quickly went out of my hiding and tensely approached the dudes who are double-teaming the tall guy before they try to bring the kids with them. I noticed also that the black van that is parking on the side of the road belongs to them.

“HEY! Didn’t you heard what he said!” My puny self yelled at them with bent toughness. “He said they have nothing to do with your problem, so leave them alone!” I said while I eyed the kids who are looking at me right now with their pitiful watery eyes.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just a random guy on the streets that you two bitchasses ruined his sleep with your annoying rumblings.” I said with much confidence with them. This is the hilarious thing about me, I’m so brave at trashtalking bullies but when they come at me, I’m like a flower who easily covers itself for protection.

In short, I don’t know how to fight back with fists. Great.

“Well, is that so? We don’t give a shit about your beauty sleep, so turn around now, mind your business and you can get yourself back to your little sleep because we’re almost done here. How about that?” The left dude said as he tugged the hair of the tall guy’s hair, making him yelp at the sting it must have caused on his scalp.

I hissed irritably at the stubbornness of this loser. I sighed deeply then went back to arguing with them when I noticed that the dudes were about to carry the kids with them through the van. The tall guy looked at me, crying and pleaded.

“Please… mister… they can’t get away…”

“TYLER!!!” An old man suddenly shouted this guy’s name. I saw that he just came out of the door from this huge looking place. Then I figured out it’s name plastered on top of the entrance.

“ORPHANAGE”

Wait a minute? Orpha- so these kids are orphans? Now I know why this Tyler guy is so protective with these kids and highly concerned for them. Plus, their home is actually just right in front of them! That means they were about to head home when these bad dudes blocked them off from doing so.

“HEY, W-WHERE ARE THEY TAKING THEM!” The old guy saw the dudes carrying the kids who are crying and trying to wiggle off in their arms to escape.

I looked at them and breathe drelpy before I let my urges control me.

I ran immediately and just before they’re about to open the sliding door of their van, I pushed them both off into the ground, while apologetically involving the kids on the ground. I just thought that it’s the better way to stop them by getting distracted at the kids bodies colliding with them as they fall.

“GO, RUN!” I commanded the kids who were a bit confused at what I just did. I looked at both of them and they got my signal. They stumbled to stand but luckily they are able to ran back from Tyler and the old man. 

“You son of a bitch, look what you just did!” The dude who is laying down beneath me suddenly kicked me on the leg, effectively making me kneel on the ground at how painful it is to endure while standing.

As I was busy seething off the pain, the other dude took the advantage by blowing me in the back of the head with his hammered fists. I faceplanted on the ground and then I felt my entire body filled with shots coming from their attacks.

They kicked me with pure despise. It stopped for a while until I felt by body getting rolled and face up, the dude straddled me and gave me repeated punches to the face before my sight went blurred and complete black.

My eyes suddenly sprung up, and what greeted me was a view of a girl who seemed like she flinched a little when my eyes opened. Her head is upside down, so I figured that she’s looking at me from the edge of… wait, am I laying down on a couch?

“Jihyo-unnie! There’s a man sleeping on our couch!!!” The girl suddenly shouted for her Jihyo-unnie. I guess that was her sister or something but hold up, where was I?!

I made the hardest and most painful sat-up I ever did in my entire life, as I feel like my abdomen are tightening while I’m doing it. My head also feels a little dizzy so I groaned and hold it for support before I turned around.

And where the hell was I? Why am I in a very cozy looking room filled with women sitting around in front of me.

What I first noticed was the girl who is staring at me upside down, she is indeed on the edge of the couch on my side looking suspicious at me with her knitted brows.

Then on the other hand was the rest of the girls with her. The first one is wearing a purple T-shirt with a girl character on its chest, she’s watching the TV in the floor along with the pale-looking girl who I can almost compare her similarity to Snow White because of how bright her skin was.

The other ones on the couch were this girl with long legs, wolfcut haired, and in black t-shirt building a Lego figure on a table and the one beside her is a very gorgeous looking one with uhm… enticing thighs, sitting like a ball and very focused on her phone.

I seriously don’t know who are these girls and why did I end up here, but for now I’ll just leave what will happen to me based on their actions… but ofcouse that doesn’t mean I won’t do something about it.

“W-who are you?” I asked the long-hair girl with tattoos. “And how did I end up here?”

“I was about to ask the same thing about you, Mr. Nobody.” She crossed her eyes and popped the bubble gum she was chewing. “We just woke up and I just went down when we found you here laying so comfortably here in our dorm like it’s yours.”

Dorm?

Where in the blue hell am I actually am right now, seriously?

“What did you say? A dorm?” I asked her again.

“Yeah! Are you deaf or something?”

“I seriously don’t know this place. I don’t even have any idea why I’m here!” I felt embarassed when my raising voice accidentally caught the other girl’s attention, and now they’re looking at me with curiousity.

“Oh, he’s awake!” The girl in purple said. She doesn’t seemed to be frightened that a stranger is on a room with her friends, she rather sounds glee about it.

“Look wait, let me explain-”

“Tell that to her instead.” Chaeyoung flicked her head back when she sensed that a footstep is growing near from us. “Jihyo- unnie!!!”

“Yes yes I’m coming Chae, jeez.” This Jihyo said to her, sounding like she’s so done at this girl’s whiny voice. Oh, didn’t I just heard this tattoo girl’s name to be Chae?

While i was awaiting at this Jihyo’s arrival, Chae decided to scare me off with her gesturing me with her index finger that tells me I’m screwed… which was kinda effective and not at the same time because I don’t even know what this Jihyo can do and… her giving death warning isn’t suitable for a short girl like her with cute features.

I gulped but I hid my nervousness by glancing at her cluelessly at her. Then, a figure stood beside Chae, a short-girl one with large round eyes, almost had me questioning if she’s actually Korean or she’s half.

She was about to ask Chae but her eyes landed at me and just like how Chae greeted me when I woke up, she shared the same judgmental look.

“Who are you and what are you doing here in our place?”

“You asked exactly the same thing as this girl right here.” I pointed at Chae. “And I can’t give the answer as for you too, because I don’t even know how did I end up here.” I shrugged.

“Are you sure about that?” She raised her eyebrow to me, unsure if I was speaking the truth.

“She’s probably speaking lies, Jihyo-unnie! Who knows, maybe this idiot is an intruder!”

“Intruder?! I don’t even know how to lockpick or climb walls!” I said to this brat over here as I felt offended.

“Well guessing from that look of yours and how mysterious your identity are, you should be considered as one.” She traced my appearance from head and toe, as if she’s wondering why such a being like me is existing in this world.

“Look, I’m not as dumb as you think I am. I am very aware that such a hobo like me wouldn’t have even a slightest chance to enter or hell, own a dorm such luxurious as this!”

“Both of you, silence your mouths!” Jihyo stops me and Chae from having a war of words. “Chaeyoung is right, you better give us something you know or else we don’t have a choice but to call security and forcefully get you out of here.”

“Wait wait, I don’t know how but I’ll just tell you instead what I know!” I paused her after this irritating Chaeyoung even handed Jihyo her phone. She’s so obvious of making me look like I’m not very welcome here in their territory.

“But first uhm… where is your bathroom?” I said as my expression softened after sheepishly admitting that the nature is calling for my reproductive organs to release something in effect of my hydration.

“And what are you gonna do in there?” Jihyo questions me.

“She’s probably gonna try to run away, Jihyo unnie! Quick girls, block the-”

“I JUST WANT TO HAVE A BATHROOM BREAK, PLEASE.” I said as I hold my kidney spot tight, constricting my legs as I hold on my pee.

“Oh.” Jihyo reacted. “Cmon, Chae as if he’s gonna be out here by his own. Our lock is equipped with passcode remember?” She said as she patted Chaeyoung’s shoulder who seems sulking that she was proven wrong. “Anyways, the bathroom is on the right, you can see the hallway down here.”

“T-thanks”, I immediately stood up and bowed at them thankfully before I went for the location of it.

As I already reached the kitchen which is where the hallway that Jihyo mentioned was near at, I noticed that there’s another girl coming from upstairs coming rushing down and went for the fridge. She even ignored me as she just passed by at me.

I just gave her the same treatment and walked through the bathroom door but just as I was about to grab the knob and opened it, I heard what she said from behind that grabbed my attention.

“Ahhh… oh a fresh blood in the morning after a hangover is incomparably great!” 

I turned my body around slowly to look at Nayeon after what she just said, just want to confirm it if she’s joking or something.

But what I found out after was instead something much more serious to be like that.

I saw Nayeon holding a transparent pitchel filled with red substance on it while gulping its content with a glass on her other hand. She was kneeling in front of the open fridge.

It was like in the movies where a protagonist gets a camera shot where his or her figure gets zoomed in while the background shrinks as soon as that character finds something mind-blowing, that’s what it looked like to mr when I felt chills in my body.

“Nayeon, hurry up! I want that blood already!”

How in the fuck can they just pronouce that they are consuming blood so casually?! It’s nit even normal at all?!

Or else…

As Nayeon followed the voice where it came from, she caught my figure standing in the middle of the hallway, watching her in horror at the strange act she’s doing. I wished she didn’t even stopped, because she terrified me further when she leans away the glass from her, revealing her blood stained mouth.

“What the fuck… are you?” 

She stood up and left the kitchen as she starts walking towards me. I hurriedly turned the doorknob but it was locked. My heart beats even faster as I got confused and even more desperate to get myself away from this bloodlust woman.

It only stopped when my vision went back to pitch black as I couldn’t control my movement anymore.

I have no idea how long I snapped out, but in an instant i just recovered my consciousness back in this comfy couch again. This time, they aren’t around to be seen in what it seems to be their living room. However, I heard clanging noises from the back, I peeked to see what it is and there they actually are, all seated on their dining table with plates and foods all around their table.

The wolfcut girl was distributing the spoons for her roommates while the short-haired woman was assisting her on scooping up the foods for them. I was just silently watching them when someone caught.

“You’re back.” A girl that I haven’t seen yet spoke me as she faced her sitting posture onto me.

I just stared at us and she probably figured out that I haven’t met or know her yet. She chuckled and smiled as she realized it. “Join us.”

Her soft voice and elegant moves piqued my interest on her. She looks so gentle and very nice to get along with. Out of all the girls who I saw, my attention was pinned sharply at her. She just lets out an unexplainable aura that carries me to her.

I nodded and I stood up, which again caught their focus. Chaeyoung’s bright face turned back into an intense and angsty mood when she noticed me back alive again. Jihyo just looked at me seriously but my eyes averted more at this girl named Nayeon who was somehow avoiding her face at me.

I felt my heartbeat quicken again which caused my head to ache and feel a bit dizzy. I almost stumble but thankfully, the wolfcut girl caught my back. “You okay?”

“My head is a bit spiraling, but I’m good.”

“Yeah it’s better to eat first. I’ll give you a medicine after.”

She was about to direct me to their table but then I refused. “S-sorry, but can I go now? I don’t even have to be here, I’m sorry again for the incovenience that I caused-”

“Don’t disrespect unnie like that, now follow her and sit with us!” I didn’t expected that those inviting words, even though they were sounded a bit rude… came from Chaeyoung herself. I looked at her with shame and I just nodded in defeat. I don’t even want to try making this girl’s blood boil more if I already feeling weak.

Oh, great. Speaking about the blood.

As I slowly make my seat, my eyes are still staring at Nayeon who seems uncomfortable now with my look. I try to stop it but at the same time I’m just completely puzzled and disgusted at what I caught from her earlier.

“You can join us for breakfast, because what we learned about you gave me a bit of an assurance that there’s nothing wrong with you.” Jihyo said as she grabbed her spoon and fork before she nodded at the person in front of her from the distance to proceed as she starts eating her food.

It turns out to be the elegant girl sitting with the wolfcut girl and the one with tattoos beside her. “May we know your name first?” she asked me.

“J-Jeonghoon. Min Jeonghoon.”

“Do you remember how did you end up here in our dorm?”

I stopped for a while as I attempt to recall the last scenarios I’ve gone through, which was from last night… but it was like some sort of a missing puzzle pieces, because I couldn’t remember it entirely.

“A bit. All I know is just I beat up some guys because I caught them trying to abduct the siblings of this kid that they intimidate. I’m pretty sure I got knocked out, but… I really don’t know how am I now here, in this type if place with you all.” I explained.

“Someone brought you here with us. That person found you unconscious outside with a badly beaten body.” Jihyo starts to enlighten out the things I temporarily forgot.

“And you should be thanking right now at her.” She glanced back at the elegant girl who just smiled at me and nodded back. My eyes widened when I understood that she was the one who saved me. 

“I’m sorry if you haven’t met me a while ago when you woke up, I just went for some exercise in our gym.” She bowed her head. “My name’s Mina, and I’m the one who brought you here.”

“W-wait, but how…” 

“Since you couldn’t remember when you went through last night, I was a friend with the old guy who owns the orphanage and a guardian of those three kids you saved out there.” She started to narrate what previously happened. 

“He called me along with the police because well… lets say he knows me as someone he can entrust a lot about.” Mina shrugged. “I volunteered to get you healed here while the old guy reported the incident to the police so… that’s the reason how you end up here in our place.” 

I felt relieved and contented that I have an idea now of what I just did, that I was also responsible actually of bringing myself into here, sharing a room with these 9 girls that even though I never met them in my entire life, they seem to be good people and I can somehow try to connect and make myself trustworthy to them… in return of what Mina did to me.

“We learned from Tyler, the kid you saved that they were caught by the loan sharks and you went there to stop them from kidnapping his fellow orphans in exchange of his unpaid balance.” Jihyo said. “And your kind deed was enough to make me convince that maybe you’re not actually what we hope you won’t be. That’s why we talked about even thought Chaeyoung here was… still hesitant-”

“We still don’t know him, unnie! I won’t still trust him around us.” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes as she spatted a toxic gaze at her before returning to her food.

“Exactly what I was saying, but she was still right. We may be appreciating what you did for the kids Jeonghoon but… you got to prove us more. We still don’t know much with you yet.”

“But you’re now welcome to interact with us.” The wolfcut haired girl spoke to me with a nice smile. I felt grateful that they gave me a chance somehow even thought I ended up looking weird for them.

“Thank you so much, I will do my best, I promise.” I said to them, bowing respectfully. 

I started to eat along with them. While I was savoring how delicious the food was, my eyes caught this girl that I last seen drinking blood. I still can’t get it out of my head. As I get drown fron my curiosity, all of us flinched and got a mini heart attack when she suddenly stood up and slammed her fist on the table, towering at me with her deadly stare.

“CAN YOU STOP LOOKING WITH ME, I COULDN’T EAT PEACEFULLY WITH YOUR STARES! IF YOU WANT TO ASK ME ALREADY ABOUT THE BLOOD I DRANK EARLIER, THEN FREAKING DO IT ALREADY!”

All of us went silent while I found the other girl with bangs slapped her head frustratingly. We locked into a staring contest until Jihyo slids between.

“Nayeon! Calm down!”

“What did you just said, Nayeon unnie?!” Wolfcut asked her older friend which revealed to be her name as Nayeon. Her voice has sn evident disbelief in it. 

Nayeon realized what she just accidentally released in her mouth, so she quickly covered it with her palm as she nervously looked around at us especially to Jihyo.

“I-I’m sorry… I-”

“You heard her right.” I said as I still confronted Nayeon. “I caught Nayeon drinking blood from the fridge, even complimenting that it was the best thing to aid hangover.”

All of them gasped and this girl beside me who was using her phone earlier clicked her tongue thrice. Wait, did I mentioned already that she looks like the tallest of them all? Well, excluding me because her head is leveled just right on my shoulder.

“Do you girls know about this? Why is she drinking blood? What are you girls hiding from me?”

They all went suspiciously silent for a moment, my fear and nervousness is increasing my heartbeat’s rate at this point, being beware of their secret that hides their true identity.

“W-wait, Jeonghoon can you give us a minute to t-talk?”

“No more time needed, just tell me right away!” I stood up, feeling alarmed at them. They all posed a taken aback expression at my frightful demeanor.

“Are you girls belong in some crazy ass cult or what? Because you girls didn’t disposed the fact that she drank blood means one thing only that you girls know about this and this just seems normal to yall. Thinking that you girls ain’t normal makes me wanna leave this room already!”

“Jeonghoon, please wait!”

They all stood up at the same time, which even looked like more creepy to me. I stepped backwards, being defensive for myself. “NO! DON’T YOU DARE TAKE ANY MORE STEP COME NEAR ME!”

I looked at the door at the near end of the hallway, which helped me to plan what I have to do after. I gotta get out of this place as they all soon to come after me. I better hurry out and ran as fast as I can.

Just as I had a plan formulated in my mind, the elegant girl took our attention when she suddenly yelled that I couldn’t even consider if she actually yelled because of how light like a feather her voice was.

“W-we are v-vampires, that’s why!”

They all gasped unbelievably at their friend who just exposed and retreated at their guilt.

“MINA! WHY DID YOU SAY IT?!” The bangs girls got infuriated at her.

“I-I just couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t lie!”

“Shit… you all are…” I looked at them and soon the sight of them looking like these precious set of women goes shifting into this unimaginable monsters that I never wanted to come across with.

“Oh god… so that’s probably why you all took me, to feed me to become more healthy… so that later tonight you all can eat me and have my blood huh! You girls like the dark and a fresh blood, like what that girl said!” I hauntingly said while pointing at Nayeon who lowered her head, probably felt pain at my accusation.

“Guess what, you all can’t have it. Because I’M GETTING OUT OF HERE!”

“GIRLS, GET HIM!

I moved as fast as I can, sprinting to the door and tried to open it. I looked back to see all the girls except Jihyo, the wolfcut one, Nayeon, and the thighs girl not joining the rest who is chasing after me.

I realized that there’s a keypad underneath the knob. I remembered that Chaeyoung told me that I have no chance of getting out of here because their door is secured with a pass code.

OH SHIT! 

“HELPPP!!! HELP ME!!!”

I pounded the door as loud as I can before I felt the bangs girls tackled my lower part and pulled my legs, sliding me to the ground with my front colliding on the floor.

Meanwhile, Jihyo and the wolfcut girl was talking about something when I saw the tall girl suddenly speak with them.

“Just tell him the truth, unnie. We can’t do anything about it already. It’s too late.”

“Nowhere to run, Jeonghoon!” Chaeyoung said to me before she maniacally smugs and laughs. I saw a glimpse of her fangs growing wiith her pupils shrinking and eyes glowing into color red.

“GET OFF ME!!! NO, PLEASE!!! SOMEBODY SAVE M-RAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

The three of them just watched the rest pulled my body away from the door as I clawed in the front while screaming in dread and terror, with my fate unknown being at the possession of these girls who turned out to be vampires in disguise.

[sunnyseungup]

Bang Chan | fic recs 2

Stray kids | Bang Chan

Masterlist | part 1

[ updated 240727 ]

You look so perfect standing there… { f } 0,9k @hanichani

Vampire Chan BF { s, f } @sweetracha

yours to keep { f } 1,7k @echo-rambles

Dream You { f, s } 4k @charmercharm3r

He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

“pink promise” { office, f2l; f, s } 4,6k @chnsbm

Your favorite coworker comforts you after a particularly bad meeting and you realize he might be your favorite for more reasons than one

Monarchs: Blood Favors { vampire Chan; s } 10,8k @abiaswreck

Chan is a great leader. You’ve known him your whole life. You trust him. You also trust him to teach you new things after things escalate between you.

“Tell me all about it…” { f, s } 1,2k @chnsbm

Hike { f } 3,2k @kobiebear

Hoodie season { f } 1,4k @candlewaxandp0lar0ids

You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.

Emotional Support Animal { WereRoomies series; f, hurt/comfort } ~2k @therhythmafterthesummer

Five-Point Star: The Aftermath { bodyguard/assassin Channie; s, f, a } ~17k @/therhythmafterthesummer

secret santa { f } 1,4k @37-drc89

Piece of The Past { domestic; a, f, h/c } 2,1k @thevampywolf

Spark Plugs { mechanic Channing; f } 1,5k @f9clementine

The Perfect Couple { f, ~a } 1,8k @/thevampywolf

Easy Like A Sunday Morning { a, f } 2,7k @dreamescapeswriting

So Then Kiss Me { mafia; s } 5k @/dreamescapeswriting

Mad { f, s } @becomingmina

texting bang chan happy father’s day @scoupsofjisung

Nothing But You [ s2l, hybrid au; s, a ] 1,4k @violetsiren90

The world's not ready for your love, but that doesn't matter. None of it matters - nothing but him.

Note: please let me know if the links are not working! I will try to fix them as soon as possible ^^

[browniefox]

I asked for fic recs so it only makes sense that I provide some.

The Invisible Stan by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

Simple, short, but elegant. You know how hanahaki disease is a trope? I feel like this should be a trope, but idk what you'd call it - Ninny disease sounds bad, but like it's clearly based off of Ninny from the Moomins. Anyway, great fic <3

An Outreached Hand by WDW

Ghost trick au! Love a good ghost trick au! I reread this recently and it still holds up so well, still so good even if unfinished. Haven't played ghost trick since, some of the twists make a hair more sense - especially the twist in the last chapter posted and being like 'OH IT'S *THE* GHOST TRICK'. Shoutout to undead creepiness and cute kitties :3

Retrograde by scrawling_stardumb

Kissing this one on the mouth. Only one chapter and unfinished, but it's a long chapter and really makes you go 'whoa'. It's interesting because the summary *technically* gives you more info than the chapter itself, but it's that kind of dramatic irony that fits the writing so well. A good solid McGucket POV too, which there really isn't enough of. Tbh, it stands okay almost as a one shot? I wish this became a whole popular au like all the others, bc it kicks ass as a concept.

Finding the Right Frequency by impish_nature

A pretty cute one! Ford trying to figure out how to deal with Bill, and Stan having found a stable job, and someow their two worlds intersect. Cute moments between the two, and some good Stans getting to reconnect.

Things You Can't Take Back by thesnadger

Classic by the Snadger! I always appreciate people who take Stan's memory less and make it more complicated, or at least have there be aftershocks to have your whole life erased :D So well written.

like they were a perfect fit by hapful

Stanford Pines and the photo he never looses. A beautiful story about Ford throughout the ages and his opnions on family, specifically Stan.

putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit

Old Yeller is such a sad story, and also some of this made me think of Mice and Men, and ugh just Stan and Ford and beign willing to kill something you love - sometimes because you love it - and it's such a perfect analogy to them I could die.

none of those phds is an md, you dumb idiot by untrustworthyglitch

I always love a fic that acknowledges language barriers. It reminds me of a really old fic where I did something similar, but like, being away from Earth would lead to you forgetting a lot of things, including language.

Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough by IncomingAlbatross

Ah, gotta love a good fic that shows the missing scene of Ford and Stan switching places. Who came up with the idea? Who needed to be convinced? What swears do they get to use while off camera? Stan I love you so much, and Ford I lov eyou for beig nso complicated.

Raising Stakes by MaryPSue

Mwah! A Classic if I've ever seen one! While I'm partial to werewolf!Stan, Vampire!Stan does have so much potential and MaryPSue puts it to use so well! A great look into what Gravity Falls was like back in taht time period, and I love when people utilize Susan in fics that take place pre-portal <3 Also, Carla! I miss you so much Carla <3 It's drama, it's action, it's everything!

Lost and Found by PengyChan

Tate & Fiddleford have a lot of untapped potential, and while I think going the angst route makes a lot of sense, this one is almost more fluff and catharsis, I guess? I love it, near and dear to me.

Off-Season by anistarrose

Time Travel fic, but not a timestuck au? More likely than you think! A cute oneshot with particular focus on Stan, Mabel, and Dipper. Just a fluffy little thing with a couple strangers helping Stan out through a difficult winter.

Persist and Dwell by fencesit

A bit of Soos's trust in Grunkle Stan, and a mystery that isn't so much mystery as it is simply just not explicitly said. One of the final scenes has still stuck with me, and this is defo a concept I'd love to see explored more.

flee from your ghosts (burn your house down) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

While typically OTGW x Gravity Falls crossovers are, like, Pinescone, I'm partial to this version where Wirt is their dad. There'a few details that didn' sit well with me, but over all so incredible and well written. Some of the metaphors are just so evocative I could eat them. The descriptions are to die for. And I love the depiction of a dad struggling to get his kids to open up to him that feels like it's part dads struggle with teens and part those pines twins just won't tell the truth.

If you have any Gravity Falls fic recs, feel free to comment them!

[blorbologist]

S3 eps 7-9 thoughts below the cut

This is all fresh after the episode and I gotta be up in a couple hours so it won't be fully thought out but...

I love a lot of the creative choices being made! But I think many weren't implemented well, or balanced nicely.

Just! as someone who has deconstructed Campaign 1 and made deviations to the timeline of events and etc (mind you, without the same goal of condensing things for television… but somehow the show has an equivalent perc'ahlia focus to a ship-centered fic?) I think… I can see several avenues of narrative choices that would strengthen the ideas they're going with instead of weakening them.

(My credentials here are 'almost 300k canon divergent AU that converged on a handful of similar plot points to TLOVM', but also the aims of an AU fanfic =/= that of a show. I understand and respect that challenge the team faced. But when a single amateur can point out issues that would be pretty easy to solve and detract from a very enjoyable experience... there might be a Problem)

Ripley doesn't need a sob story, she's getting a book anyways leave it there. Fully agree with @/aq2003. The whole point is that she's monstrous and evil and got her PhD out of a fucking cereal box. Percy is less like her than he thinks. But he dies and she just??? escapes??? IF Percy had to die without VM being present, having Ripley either die of her wounds right after or be unable to flee and get torn to shreds by them would have been excellent.

On that note - only Vex and Cass seem to show strong emotion about his death. Keyleth's supposed to be his best friend, and he and Grog were close this season, but. Well, not like we have any platonic relationships. Everyone's just Kinda Sad.

MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE OF THE MUSIC OVER PERCY'S DEATH HUH. Flashbacks to watching Vampire Diaries as a teenager and pop songs coming on over the end-of-episode drama.

Again just. All the platonic, non-familial (Pike n Grog count. to me. buddies <3) relationships are so scant, which is especially hard on characters who lean on that so hard! Grog and Keyleth especially are hurt by this. Does Keyleth have a single conversation (not quip, conversation) that isn't with Vax? And in group contexts she only loudly brings up her distrust of Raishan without any of the solid backbone it has in fact. (Also her going from Raishan was right last time we should trust her now / She betrayed us! Knew it! / oh maybe she didn't and I should apologize. girl. come on. please)

I have Concerns about 'late Game of Thrones teleportation' syndrome happening here. Scanlan goes from Wildemount back to Whitestone (which are completely different continents) with no explanation. Kash and Zahra make it to Emon (again, different continent to Issylra) just in the nick of time. Which, sure, would take a couple of days to carve Percy a nice likeness (but you have a druid who can manipulate stone right there), and if Kash and Zahra changed their minds and set out as soon as Vax talked to them they might make it! But uh. There's a lot of transport that's omitted, while the scenes give the impression everything is happening within a short period of time. And a lot of these conversations are one-on-ones with the relevant characters without acknowledging they couldn't be there without magical transport. Where is Allura or Gilmore or Keyleth in the back of these shots twiddling their thumbs 'hey can we teleport to the next person on our HELP US list'?

IDK what's going on with Kash. He's likely gonna be used as a lead-in to Something to rez Percy (and him?) but. That quick buildup of him being too carefree to getting smushed was very transparent and Zahra's grief didn't feel earned (though it WAS baller. yes they made them bleed girl <3).

The fact Vax didn't ask him At All about the resurrection ritual in the Tomb stuns me tho. You think Vax remembered the offhand comment Kash made about the body needing to be warm while his sister was dead? We as an audience could have used a reminder, and Vax too. Because anyone who Doesn't remember this one line from S2 is Extra frustrated at everyone for being stupid.

Raishan or Ripley being moved to be the 'Vox Machina, united, with all their Vestiges' fight is... hmn. You could argue Raishan has solid buildup (what with the cameo in Brimscythe's lair), and it does follow campaign canon. She lacks the devastating power to justify the use of all the Vestiges (tbh given Thordak it might feel like a curbstomp unless her necromantic plans are successful)... but I could see it working. But why the fuck has Ripley escaped A THIRD TIME. Percy even duped her twice! How many times are we gonna do that song and dance?

If anything, I'd have moved some Ripley stuff here. If she escapes so be it but VM putting the fate of the world on hold to avenge their friend, THEN have Percy be back for Thordak, would be tasty.

... wait does this mean Percy might not have Cabal's Ruin by the final dragon fight of the season? ffs-

DID NO ONE LOOT CABAL'S RUIN FROM THE FACTORY.

Thordak fight was baller, having all our NPCs there to worry about? a bit much. Cass why are you here. Go home before Whitestone loses its last de Rolo.

Also. Thordak my dude I know you're insane. mad even. but uh... you sent your children into battle. A TON have already died by the time you sadly nuzzle the hatchlings. This was kinda your fault. There's a reason animals don't send their babies into combat. then again you're a large reptile who talks about milk so what do I, a reptile researcher, know -

(Don't give me that crap about reptiles being bad parents we have several snakes who require maternal attendance after birth or they're Asocial Weirdos, crocodilians are VERY goo parents, and there are social lizards too.)

'fix him - FIX HIM' being gutted fucking killed me :c

I sure hope Pike's 'IT'S ME' was uh. about faith in herself. Not abandoning the god she spent all of S1 figuring out how to devote herself to. While wearing the Vestige associated with another god. the vestige that explicitly made this possible and not a nuke fire falls u all die tpk. haha. ha. (@/burr-ell)

Yes yes yes I know the voiceover and visuals fill in for 'I hear my mother in the morning. Fuck you'. but. idk. Felt like the grief of that moment was taken out of it? Also it's a banger line

Raishan's little killsteal attempt being bumped from Vorugal to Thordak was tasty! Go green girl go! ... except it did nothing but set up a few quiet moments before she turned on everyone again.

The amount of times I'm seeing things happen Again in this is... not great.

Glintshore is Not Glinting. Where is my broken glass difficult terrain?

Perc'ahlia arc fuckin impeccable tho. Delicious

And Pike got lots of fun and stunning moments so far! And Grog takin down the lair!

I love a lot of this though. The hallucination gas. Percy vs Ripley in the factory was so cool. Percy downright being Put in a Box for a while. VEX'S CONVERSATION WITH SYLDOR!!! SO MUCH!! Her being the leader and feeling so responsible for all this, and seeing herself become her father! ELAINA BACKSTORY! Scanlan leaving the party only to miss Kaylie too! Thordak being A Dad! Percy's death/Vex's grief being the catalyst for Vaxleth! The animation was fucking stellar - Vax killing Thordak, Percy's death, Pike mastering the Plate.

I don't have concrete thoughts on how I'd restructure the episodes/season (seasons?) to better balance platonic and romantic relationships, and utilize the changes to their fullest potential. But damn if the temptation to do ANOTHER canon divergence rewrite / exploration of cause and effect to make things hit a bit more nicely... make myself a challenge to only use X amount of scenes per episode/chapter, to try and match the difficulty of adapting this to television... idk

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

This week I have mostly been reading...

May 13-19th, 2024

New idea I've had, and hopefully something I'll have time to do once a week on a Sunday. Over the past seven days, I have devoured the following Good Omens fanfics, and I recommend these most heartily to you:

Completed works I've read this week:

Boyfriend Debut by snae_b Rated E - A & C are both porn actors. It sounds seedy. It's not. Holy Hell, it's not. It's one of the hottest things I've ever read, but also so, so sweet and delightful.

They Drink Tea At The End by @knifeforkspooncup Rated T - After a year spent in Heaven, A returns to C in the bookshop completely and utterly overstimulated in every sensory capacity. A wonderful, sweet story of them truly knowing each other and an excellent example of how the fandom relates to GO in so many beautiful ways.

Pay Per View by IneffableToreshi Rated E - A lovely story set in Canada, full of our so frequently seen miscommunication between A & C. And, as the author says: "Also, why the fuck is Aziraphale watching porn in their hotel room?! And taking notes?!"

Cranking Up The Heat by @vavoom-sorted-art Rated E - Well, the title says it all, really. And the fic's description: "The equivalent of that hot wings challenge, but with porn." Don't really want to say much more, as you've gotta see it to enjoy it.

On The Same Page by Chekhov Rated E - A fake marriage fic with Only One Bed. A & C are both authors, but two very different ones. Excellently written with very vividly described mental struggles with internal homophobia & self loathing.

A Model Guardian by Fuuma_san Rated E - As a former model, I found this fic really interesting. I'd genuinely love to know what the author's tie/experience in the industry is. C is a model, A is their bodyguard. An interesting tale which involves some great discussion on gender.

In The Room Where You Sleep by @mrghostrat Rated E - Another banger by ghostrat, posted in its entirety this week. In a reversal to many other fics I've seen, A is a vampire and C is a vampire hunter. *Homer Simpson voice* With sexy results. ;)

WIPs which have updated this week (which I devour as soon as I get the update!)

There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A is a researcher (puffins!), C is a lighthouse keeper on the island where A has run away to to escape his problems and do his research. The author has recently spent a week studying puffins - which is the ultimate dedication, if you ask me. Ch 9/26 posted this week

Find The Light by @klikandtuna Rated E - Headmaster A and Rockstar C. The story teases out a fraught history between them whilst keeping a tension between them in the modern day. Ch 4/? posted this week.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley Rated T - Astronaut A is guided back to Earth by controller C after 92 years in space. There are many difficulties both of them have to face and they develop an amazing rapport. Ch 15/17 posted this week.

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - Actor C is contracted by (useless) Gabriel to guest curate an exhibition at the museum where A works. After getting off on the wrong foot, can they work together to pull off this show? Ch 22/24 posted this week.

Under The Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - This wonderful fic has taught me more about physics than school ever did (mostly because I never did any physics, but...well). A & C have to share their time at an observatory because there is Only One Telescope. Not only will you learn about astrophysics, astrobiology, and astroecology, you'll also read some of the most poetically, beautifully written masturbation scenes I've ever seen. *ahem* Ch 6/13 posted this week.

Free by well, me: imposterssyndrome Rated E - A & C meet (again?) in an acute mental health ward after both having had mental health crises. A runs a bookshop but is very much under his parents' control. C has been homeless since childhood and has struggled his entire life. They do not trust each other when they first meet, but feel strangely drawn to one another all the same. Where will this lead them? This is a passion piece for me. There is a lot of lived experience in it, and extensive research from both professionals and peers. It has been a real journey for me to write it, and as I'm coming closer to the end it's becoming very emotional for me. Ch 43/? posted this week

[lady-phasma]

Auntie, I have a question.

In the books Lestat gives Louis the dark gift towards the end of the 18th century, but in the tv show he turns him in 1910. That leaves a considerable amount of time where Lestat hadn’t met Louis.

I plan to write a (x reader) pre-canon fic about this gap in time before Lestat and Louis meet. Do you know what he might have been doing during this time? (Do you think it might work for a fic?)

Sorry if this is a dumb question! Thank you!!

Hi nonnie! This is not a dumb question at all. In fact, it's so great that I made you a gif set to go with my answer!

This is the series canon about the time between Nicki and Louis. I know we can't trust everything said in the trial, but for this I think it's okay.

I'll answer below the cut.

First, let me say that I am honored and flattered that you came to me about this. If you want to DM me, feel free. If you want to come back as anon you can have 🖋 anon if you want it.

Second, even a 2 year gap is lot of time to work with. We know he would need to feed as soon as he wakes up and he's a non-discriminating slut, so I know he would have some fun even if he's still brokenhearted. I think you could do so much in that time! Whether or not you decide to write smut, you could certainly give him a meaningful interaction with reader. You didn't mention if your idea for your reader was human or vampire, either could work, but my brain immediately went to "Lestat's hungry after his nap so he's probably killing a lot, what if he met a non-coven vampire in the French countryside?"

My nerd brain also had the idea that you could see what ports were most commonly used for passage from France to the US in 1908-1910 and I'm pretty sure the main one is in the south of France (used by the US military in WWI and WWII but I can't think of the name right now). Crap, I had to google it because that was going to bug me. LoL Saint-Nazaire, France. Double check that if you decide to go this direction, but it's about 470 km (292 miles) south of Paris by modern roads. There's a lot territory for him to cover if he used that port.

If that doesn't interest you, please disregard! I just wanted to point out that you have a lot to work with even if it's "only" two years between his sleep and New Orleans.

Lastly, without finding a definitive timeline of Lestat for the series yet, I'm thinking he was turned in the 1760s (or around there). If someone has a better timeline that would be great, but seasons one and two haven't given us exact dates that I can find. Anyway, if future seasons follow his plot pretty closely then you might have some of his time between his turning and when he meets Armand (yes, Nicki is in Paris but we don't have to headcanon monogamy if we don't want to and he is canonically often non-monogamous). Lestat as a horny, awe-struck fledgling might be fascinating!

I can't wait to read what you decide to do! You don't have to come off anon to tag me in it unless you want to. I would love that, but maybe I'll come across it when/if you post it!

I think this is going to be great and feel free to come back and discuss this more if you would like!

[iwillrememberyoumarathon]

❥❥ iwry marathon: week four ❥❥ thanks to everyone who participated in the marathon this year! enjoy the fanworks from this week (links below) and stay tuned for Another Minute on December 1!! we'll have a full masterlist for iwry 2024 coming soon

fics

Day 23: Sun in the Storm by bonniesfire (@lalosalamcnca) Summary: Buffy through some of the metaphorical (and occasionally literal) seasons of her life. (Rated T. 3,960 words)

Day 24: Blood Group (Группа крови) by B_E_S Summary: Buffy reacted calmly to the story about the Day That Never Happened. But not to the story about Darla and Connor. (Rated T. 5,754 words, in Russian)

Day 25: Do Vampires Dream of Undead Sheep? by @taaroko Summary: When the nightmares of Sunnydale become reality, what horrors will a certain vampire with a soul have to face? (i.e. What was Angel up to during "Nightmares"?) Canon compliant. (Rated G. 2,970 words)

Day 26: Gambit by @aboutafox Summary: He's the ace up her sleeve and a constant gamble. Trapped in a nest of vipers, she's the only one he can trust. But can their relationship survive the games they play? Or in short, what if nothing that happened in season 5 was as it appeared? (Rated E. 7,433 words)

Day 27: The Blood of Eternity by Liana_Medea Summary: There lives a monster in the bogs of the West, cursed by the Red Sorceress. (Rated G. 2,987 words)

Day 28: Do Si Dos and Aliemande Left by a2zmom Summary: The sixth story of the Steps Saga, a rewrite of BtVS season 4 where Angel stayed human after IWRY. Buffy winds up cut off from friends and family. (Rated M. 13,260 words)

Day 29: Just One Day by MeTheMermaid (@casenpoint) Summary: Buffy proposes she and Angel spend Christmas Day together. But only Christmas Day. (Rated M. 2,724 words)

Day 30: In Every Generation by @taaroko Summary: In every generation, there is a chosen one. At least, there used to be, before the power in the Slayer line waned. With the gaps between new Slayers stretching from years to decades and the secrets of creating them long forgotten, the Watchers grew desperate, so they turned to a Romani curse in hopes of forging loyal warriors out of their greatest enemies… (Rated T. 27,391 words)

art

'i will remember you': 25th anniversary — gifset by @liam-summers

bangel x like real people do — edit by @bangelism (also posted on Instagram)

bangel + locations, part five: the mansion — gifset by @ptieuca

bangel + locations, part six: angel's apartments — gifset by @ptieuca

previous weeks:

❥❥ iwry marathon: week one ❥❥

❥❥ iwry marathon: week two ❥❥

❥❥ iwry marathon: week three ❥❥

[atzfilm]

— clair de rose (m) (6)

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count; 44.3k

genre; vampire!pirates! au, fantasy

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

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

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

part five | part seven

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

Hundreds of years prior

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

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

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

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

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

“That is months away–"

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

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

“What is your name?”

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

You cannot see how his expression shifts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Capt’ know?”

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

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

“He is quite the charmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, tell me where you’re from.”

“The dock you just departed.”

“And your position in society?”

“A handmaiden.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“So you are Miss Rose?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, there’s no need–”

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

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

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

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Royalty?"

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

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

"Then who were you before this you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

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

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

“A mate will bring you your dinner.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You very much enjoy the way he says your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time you're speechless.

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

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

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

“Ah, you needn’t worry about that–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, this isn’t necessary–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Peculiar," you note aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

"You are the sailing master, correct?"

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How does he know that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“I can handle myself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are you?” You ask softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There isn’t a need to forgive me–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hate is the last thought on my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s happening? What did he do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Rose?” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then he broke your heart?” Hongjoong suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Rose–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even if I am a woman."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a wondrous man,” you murmur.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyung–"

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

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

“Captain wants to see you.”

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

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

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

“What do you suggest?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This ship then?” You raise your brow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever heard of the term jiāngshī?”

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

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

“Why would I? Do you believe in it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relief?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The others want it too.”

You stop moving. “What?”

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

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

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

“There are more of you?”

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

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

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

“Stop–"

“Jongho. Seonghwa. San.”

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

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

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

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

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

Not in a lifetime.

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

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

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

"Jongho was worried."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

"I'm so happy," he says.

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

—

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

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

"Rose?" Jongho asks softly, nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You will not, Rose."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, Choi Jongho!”

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

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

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

“Do you–”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love being the first, of course.”

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

“You’re a sly man, Choi San.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inside of me, San.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

“I’d never do such a thing, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it mandatory?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are such a menace!"

-

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

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

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

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

Seonghwa frowns, “I was inspecting the perishables.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

Hongjoong never mentioned Subin, he never said –

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

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

“Breathe, Rosie. It’s okay–“

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

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

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

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

“How?”

“Rosie–"

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

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

He’s grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

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

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

  “He would not go against my wishes.”

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

“You believe it was his idea?”

“That is what he said, yes.”

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

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

“Do you know why he was cursed?”

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

“And you are not the least bit curious?”

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

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

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

“He’s my brother.”

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

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

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

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

"No one will come for you here."

"I would rather not overstay my welcome."

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

“Why will you not let me go?”

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

“Answer the question, Seonghwa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You will not.

"We can love each other as before."

You cannot.

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

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

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

"You will never lose me."

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have they all turned now?” You ask.

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

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

“Will you be okay, Yeosang?”

“Hm?” He hums.

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

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

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

You do.

You did.

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

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

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

“Do you regret it? Us being together?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is not Yeosang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You must leave.

-

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

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

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

You hold the lantern close.

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

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

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

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

“Are you well, Rose?”

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

"Why?

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

Disgust.

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

"Look at me."

"No."

"Rose, please look at me."

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

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

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

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

"You don't mean that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost drop your satchel at the sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You do not respond.

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me go.”

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

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

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

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

“You treat us like goods?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” he says. “Love me.”

“Captain–”

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

“I cannot–”

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

“Captain–”

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

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

“Rose–”

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

His eyes widen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are not well–"

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

“He is not leaving.”

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

“You are leaving?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“I’m not going to do anything–"

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

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

“Sarcasm does not suit you, Wooyoung.”

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

“I am not hungry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you avoid me?”

“San,” Yeosang sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeo, Rose?”

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

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

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

“I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“This is not a public discussion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wooyoung.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

Yeosang has not opened his door since that morning.

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

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

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

“Has he fed?” You ask softly.

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

“What will happen to me, Jongho?”

“What do you mean?”

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

He shakes his head, “No-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smiling as he stands over your body.

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

-

Cold.

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

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

“Rose-”

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

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

“You have to drink-”

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

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

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

"Please–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was a mistake—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not want to harm.”

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

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

“Hongjoong does not agree—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is at that moment when you lose yourself.

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

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

"Did I kill her parents?"

"Rose…"

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

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

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

"Hey, hey, get out of your head–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dare you call yourself that? After everything we have done to make you this way? Everyone, leave,” Hongjoong’s brows furrow. “Do you know what I have done to make you come here?” Hongjoong grip is tight as he drags you around his desk. You do not utter a word in fear of agitating him. He lets go of your hand, swinging open the cabinet just behind his desk. What you presumed would be cartons of wine is instead, portraits. He waits patiently as you move closer, eyeing the photos he displays. Your eyes widen, noticing a particular man that looks oddly familiar. Staring longer, all of them do. The man who winked at you in the marketplace while you were with Jongho, every single man who previously spoke to you aboard this ship. Sejun rests there as well, along with other conquests of yours before arriving on the ship. You try moving back but Hongjoong blocks your path. He points to every single one, eyes wild as they meet yours.

“All of them tried to touch my treasure, some did,” he adds, a twitch in his lip. “But in the end they all perished. Some more so than others. Despite their sour appearance, all of them tasted quite pleasant. A shame that your mother walked in on me killing your father. She was just part of the aftermath.”

He lets go of your arm, and you fall to your knees. You can feel the pressure in your temples, the throbbing all consuming. Even as he speaks you can barely hear through the anger and sadness swimming through your body, chest tight enough to barely let you breathe. Hongjoong touches you and you haven’t the will to push him away, eyes meeting him. Odd how there is reputance in his irises, sadness as he meets yours. Mocking your own. You cannot speak even if you would like to, his fingers all too hot, all too burning against your cool skin.

“It’s okay,” he whispers against your temple. His arms slowly wrap around you, cradling your trembling body against his chest. He hums softly, his cheek pressed against your forehead. He begins to sing an eerily familiar tune. The same one your mother used to sing to you as a child when you were upset. It does anything but calm you, your body tensing as he continues to hum it. “Your mother used to love when I sang this to her Rose,” he starts. “She told me I had a beautiful voice. She loved me, you know. It is unfortunate that she disappeared that night. It was only luck that I found her at the market when you were a young woman, with another man. He had to die, do you see now, Rose? He took my treasure away from me. I am so glad you look just like her,” he holds his face against yours. “It is as if nothing has changed.”

You sob without tears, pushing against his chest. He only holds you tighter, your immortal strength nothing in comparison to his. “Stop-”

“She told me to stay away from you Rose, but how could I? You look just like her. And now you will stay like this until the end of time. I will cherish every moment I have with you,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I even killed Wooyoung’s brother once I found out what he did to you. I did this all for you.”

Wooyoung’s brother? “What are you saying?” You cough, “I never heard of his brother.”

“Oh, did he not tell you?” Hongjoong’s lips lift. “Your old lover, Sejun, Rose. He was Wooyoung’s hyung. His flesh and blood. He begged for me to not throw him off, but he hurt my Rose. Wooyoung is lucky that I merely threw him into the sea, and not tortured the man.”

The overload of information only makes you sink deeper into yourself. You’ve fallen in love with the man who killed your parents. Who was obsessed with your mother to the point where he let his feelings merge to you. Deluded himself into thinking that you were just another version of her. And now you find out that Sejun, the man who you’ve hated, was Wooyoung’s brother. How could you look at him in the eyes now, knowing this? Knowing that with your fast tongue, you’ve killed his family?

“Have you calmed down now, Rose?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. “If you’re okay, I’ll let you go back to your quarters. I know you’ve had a long night.”

You only nod, and he lets you go. Every muscle in your body wants to run away from him, but the fear of what he might do stops you from doing so. You slowly make your way to the door.

“And Rose?”

You turn to him. A grin is carved into his face. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

You swallow, nodding. You expect him to force you to say it back, but he only gives you his back, silently resting himself against his chair. You open the door and step out, the rain splattering against your cheek as you make your way across the deck. It scares you how you cannot feel the cold of the rain, the breeze hitting your skin with no shivers down your spine. There’s nothing you can do. If you run, Hongjoong will catch you. If you hide, he will find you. Your mother avoided him for several decades, but she was found, and she perished because of it. The only reason you were spared was because of your relation to her. You are sure Hongjoong would have drained you of blood just like your family. There is only one option left.

You will no longer be on this Earth anymore.

Your steps are slow as you descend down to your room, a creak echoing around the room. Your items are thrown about. The necklace your family gave you were of age, your father’s watch. Belongings from your old master’s house. Subin’s handwritten note tucked in between your pillow and mattress. You reach for it, finger dragging along his handwriting. You wanted to see him again, learn more about his upbringing, his life before this ship. It is unfortunate that you will never get the chance to.

If you could cry you would, but Jongho took that away from you. And even if he hadn’t, you are sure one of the others would have done so.

The knock on your door pulls you away from your sorrow briefly, eyes flicking to the newcomer. Seonghwa stands there, a strained smile on his lips when your eyes meet his.

“Are you alright, Rose? How about we drop that knife, hm?”

You look down at your hands, the silver flashing back at you. You don’t remember grabbing it, don’t remember covering it with the strange mixture Yeosang gave you days prior. You shake your head as you meet his eyes. “No.”

“Rose, we cannot make any hasty decisions-” He steps forward but stops once you press it against your chest, hand trembling. “Rose, please-”

“I cannot do this anymore, Seonghwa,” you bit your lip. “I want to cry and I cannot even shed tears if I wanted to. I can’t feel, Seonghwa. I cannot feel anything. I cannot even feel fear when I hold this against me. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I cannot.”

“Please,” he practically begs, falling to his knees. “I… I cannot lose you, Rose.”

“Do you know what he has done? Do you?”

Seonghwa says nothing. That is enough of an answer for you.

“I have been searching endlessly for the people who killed my family. And here I am, foolishly falling for the man who did it. Falling in love with the crew who knew what he did. And I am angry, I am more than angry. But if anything, I just feel pathetic for ever thinking that I found my new family. People that cared for me. It was all a lie. Just because Hongjoong wanted me so badly because he could not have my mother for himself.”

“If we can just talk about it-”

“I have done enough talking,” You press it harder against you, gasping. It pierces your skin with ease, Seonghwa immediately coming to your side. He tugs on your hands as you press it deeper. The blood you consumed earlier spills from the wound, staining your blouse.

“Rose!” He yells, tugging harshly. You cover his hand with your free one, embracing his panicked gaze. “Stop!”

“I would not have asked anyone else to be here with me when I die, Seonghwa. Please let me go.”

“No, no,” he begs, pulling again. You pull back, the knife immediately plunging into your heart. “No!”

tags: @revehosh @mrcarrots @belletiny @sansblkgirlfriend @hwadump @honeyedtalisman @atzcoke @glitterhongjoong @whatudowhennooneseesyou @marievllr-abg @arkive78 @dysftopia @kpopnightingale @wxnderingthoughts @jenniee-tm @hongshines @atinytease @multidreams-and-desires @yla-aira @wommypeaches @avantalem @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @toxicccred @xciiiomwliah @madelinelina @kirooz @a-tiny-teez @tenebrisirae @ageofjade @n0v4t33z @yoongiigolden @jonghoharibo @fl0r4f4wn @gh0stbish @kodsukein @vitrealislux @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @spiderrenjunfics @aeoliannie​ @tannie13 @leeknowsalot @xshansimsx @seojonneh @shingene @justconniez @mingi-banana @anushka-k @nightmarej1n @watamotee33 @dear-dreamie @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest @jaxavance @malyxsoulpersonal @az-con @charreddonuts @beautysirens @sunukissed @lixpixstix

[carooosa]

A Chance to be Normal

Word count: 2.3k Rating: Fluff/Hurt Pairing: Ascended Astarion x GN Resist Durge/Reader  Warnings: None AO3 link: A Chance to be Normal

Summary: After the Absolute has been defeated, Astarion wishes to fulfill your every desire. However, he didn't expect your desires to be so pedestrian.

A/N: This is literally the day after The Absolute has been killed. I’m going with the Vampire bride/husband theory, however I’m slightly changing it. Since Astarion has yet to fully understand and grasp his power, he isn’t able to fully extend all of the blessings that came with Ascension to you. This can be read by itself or as a prequel to the other works in my "Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness" series. Also yes this was part of a February fic prompt and yes it is now March. Life sucks sometimes ok.

“Just one day of normalcy.”

That’s the only thing you requested when Astarion asked what you’d like to do now that the Absolute was banished. He had been prepared for you to ask for anything in the world. You seemed hell-bent on taking revenge on any remaining Bhaalists, although you were worried that you may see familiar faces and turn back into your ‘Slayer-form’. You were ready to jump into Avernus with Wyll and Karlach, but a shared whisper between the three of you ended with them plunging into the hells together and you staying behind.

He meant it when he’d said, “Of course, my love. Anything you want, you shall have.” 

Even for a creature with such immeasurable power, what you desired was trivial in comparison.

Although, he would have to admit that the last month was more adventure than he had ever wished for. Perhaps a day of being a normal elf and a normal tiefling would be a nice change of pace.

When he tried to question what you wanted to do with the day, you simply smiled and whispered, “It's a surprise.”

And a surprise it would be. 

He wakes to hear you frantically running about the room you’re staying in at the Elfsong. You’re mumbling something to yourself before starting to giggle like a school kid. He turns on his side and opens his eyes, only for you to screech at him and slap your hand against his face to obscure his vision. “What are you doing awake?!” you shrill at Astarion.

He tries to gently remove your hand from his eyes, but you retaliate by placing your other hand on top of the first and pushing against him harder. 

“Darling,” he says with a breathy chuckle. “It’s hard to stay asleep with you running around like you’re covered in timmask spores.” Although he can’t see it, he assumes by the way that you fidget that your cheeks acquired a deep blush. 

He takes one of your hands and brings it down to his lips, placing his lips against your palm as he speaks into it. “My pet, what’s got you acting so strangely this morning?” 

Your hand flexes against him and for a second he thinks you’re going to relent. If there’s one thing about you that’s true, though, it’s that you’re as stubborn as a donkey (although Astarion would never say it to your face lest you unleash your ‘gift’ onto him).

“I told you last night,” you respond with a cheeky grin. “It’s a surprise.”

“Very well,” Astarion says while letting your hand drop. “If it must be so, then I suppose I’ll have no choice but to surrender.” 

He grimaces at the words as soon as he says them. He’ll need to keep his tongue in check upon returning to the Crimson Palace; it wouldn’t do to let anyone think there’s someone with power over him.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat before rummaging through the nightstand next to the bed and moving your hand so that only one of Astarion’s eyes is covered. “I still have some prep that I need to finish but I can’t trust you to not peek, so I’m gonna blindfold you.” Astarion smirks at you and raises his uncovered eyebrow. “Does your day of normalcy include a certain kind of exercise?” 

His eye flares at you, and in response, you blush even harder. You shake your head violently at his implication, and he can’t help the genuine smile that forms on his lips. For someone who thoroughly enjoyed his body, you were quite shy whenever he teased you.

“No, I have something special planned. It has to be a surprise though.”

He thinks for a second that he may continue to rile you up, but ultimately he decides against it. This ‘day of normalcy’ was the only thing you asked from him, and what kind of lord would he be if he couldn’t grant his consort’s first wish? 

So with a dramatic sigh, he says, “Alright, get on with it.”

Your other hand falls from his face to hold the handkerchief and he waits for the fabric to wrap around his eyes but it never comes. Instead, you’re focusing intensely on the blindfold, rolling the fabric between your fingers. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when you answer before he has the chance to.

“Do you trust me?” you ask him, your eyes round and full of vulnerability. 

You always asked these questions at the strangest of times. How could he say no? If anything, you were the only being he trusted. 

You could have killed him two tenday ago back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands in order to ‘fulfill your Bhaal-spawn duties’, but you didn’t. 

You could have forced him to drink from that blood Drow to gain a powerful potion, but you didn’t. 

You could have left him to perish in his old master’s ritual, but you didn’t. 

You stayed, you released him from the ritual and helped him to ascend instead. And later that night, you gave over your life.

You were so, so selfless and devoted to him. You could have stabbed him in the back many times, but you stayed by his side. 

It was quite foolish on your end, honestly. 

Astarion didn’t have much before the ritual, and even though he’s now the Vampire Ascendant, all he has is that empty mansion. All of the old servants were either dead or had escaped into the shadows, leaving behind a mess that would take days to clean up. Astarion Ancunín was unknown amongst the elite, nothing but a whisper of a pretty face with a nice body. 

Yet…for some untold reason, he was all you wanted.

It's been a few seconds since you asked Astarion the question, and you fidget beneath his silence. He plasters on a confident smirk to hide his insecurity, answering in the only way he knows how. 

“More than anything in the world,” he whispers. 

Grabbing your hands, he places a kiss on your knuckles before lifting them up to his eyes to put the blindfold on, and his world goes dark.

After you finish preparing your surprise and help Astarion get dressed, you lead him out of the tavern and around the bustling noise of celebrations in the town. All the while, he’s still wearing the blindfold. You pull him along, weaving in and out amongst the crowd. He’s not able to do much whenever he bumps into someone, and he’s convinced he must look the part of a bumbling idiot.

Suddenly, you yank him hard to the side and continue on as the noise from the city fades. The sounds and smells of nature start to flood Astarion’s senses when you stop moving without warning and he stumbles into you.

“My love, can I please take this wretched thing off?” Astarion whines. He’s unable to see your reaction and you don’t answer, but he can still smell your scent so he knows you’re nearby. He waits a few more seconds before asking, “Darling? Are you there?”

His newly beating undead heart starts to quicken as all he’s met with is silence. Has something happened to you? You were just pulling him along not even a minute ago, surely you were fine. 

But what if you weren’t? 

What if in the one moment he let down his guard you had been taken, or worse? 

He’s about to rip off the blindfold from panic when he feels your presence behind him removing the handkerchief.

As his eyes adjust to the brightness of the sun, you let out a big “Surprise!” before wrapping your arms around him. 

On the ground in front of him is a red blanket with golden lace trim; arranged on it are two glasses filled with an expensive champagne, an ornate plate stacked with chocolate-covered strawberries in a precise circular pattern, and a single rose in a small glass vase.

Astarion lets out a sigh of relief and kneels down to the arrangement on the blanket. “What’s this?” he asks while looking up at you.

There’s a smile plastered on your face and your eyes are full of pride. He realizes that he hasn’t seen what you’re wearing yet and his eyes trail down to your body. You’re wearing a simple outfit that’s the same color as the blanket, and looking at himself, the same color of his shirt as well. It’s not something he would have picked out for the two of you (as it’s far too plain), but since this was a day for blending in, he supposes it’ll do.

“This,” you say while plopping down next to Astarion, “is a picnic!” 

He laughs at your straightforward response and he can’t help but admire the blush that spreads on your cheeks. You stick out your bottom lip in a fake pout and cross your arms.

Astarion wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight embrace while whispering soothing words in your ear. “My sweetness, you never cease to make me smile. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you.” You push him away with an eye roll. “I wasn’t laughing, Lord Ancunín.” Astarion tuts his tongue at that response. “Ah, ah, ah. Today I’m just Astarion.”

You quickly envelop his face with your hands and move closer so that your lips are just out of reach from his. Your eyes are full of love as you say, “My Astarion.”

His mouth goes dry at your proclamation. 

Was he really yours? If he was, would that be a bad thing? 

Of course, he would need to make sure that no one ever found out just how deep the bond was between the two of you, lest they use it against him. Or worse yet, they use it against you. His thoughts begin to race but before he can spiral into his insecurities, you snap him back to the present with a gentle kiss on his nose.

Astarion blinks once and you smile, grabbing a strawberry and holding it up to his mouth. 

“Open,” you say while pressing the fruit against his lips. 

He obliges and takes a bite of the fruit, staring at you as you watch him intently. The flavors dance in his mouth, the bitterness of the dark chocolate melting on his tongue combines with the sweetness of the strawberry to taste like pure bliss. It’s been centuries since he tasted food that didn’t immediately cause bile to form in his throat.

You fidget from his silence. “You haven't had anything other than blood in over two centuries, so I thought I'd share my favorite food with you. Although saying that out loud, I probably should have asked what your favorite food was instead of –” 

Astarion cuts off your rambling with a hungry kiss, pushing his tongue against your lips. You let him in and almost immediately you push him away, retching and coughing. 

“I-I’m sorry, let me just get something to drink,” you hurriedly reassure him as you grab a glass and drink some of the champagne. 

You spit out the drink and begin to retch just as before.

Astarion quickly jumps to your side and reaches out to rub your back but hesitates for a moment, looking around to see if anyone else is watching. Noticing that no one is nearby, he begins to rub soothing circles against your back, similar to how he noticed you comfort others during the last few months. Tears threaten to spill out from the corners of your eyes; whether it be from the pain or from something else, he’s not sure.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks while peering over to look closer at you.

It takes you a few more seconds to catch your breath before you respond. “The taste… it’s horrid.”

Astarion’s head begins to spin at the revelation. When he was just a mere spawn, anything other than blood tasted vile. But you weren’t a spawn, you were more. You were his consort; hells, you drank some of his blood. Maybe it wasn’t enough blood, maybe you needed more of his life source flowing through you.

Or maybe he wasn’t as powerful as he originally thought.

Yes, he was able to protect you from the sun, however, it wasn’t to the extent of total invulnerability. You were only able to last under the direct rays for a few hours before your skin would start to simmer and bubble. It was a bittersweet end to the celebration of the Absolute’s defeat. 

In exchange for your complete devotion, Astarion had stolen your freedom in the sun.

How many more of his weaknesses would afflict you? Your reflection was still visible, but without the need to traverse through moving water or eat food, it hadn’t crossed his mind that you were affected in negative ways.

His inner monologue is cut short as you still his comforting arm on your back. “I’m okay, really. Why don’t you enjoy the treats I brought? We wouldn’t want to make my time out in the sun today to be for nothing, would we?” 

You look at your love with a heartbreakingly pitiful smile.

While he has always admired your strength, he could feel the sorrow emitting from you. Quite literally, he was overwhelmed with a sadness unlike his own. His stomach began to twist in knots and the edges of his eyes became damp. 

“No, we wouldn’t want to do anything of the sort.” He plastered on that fake smile of his and looked into your soulless eyes, your mind miles away as he agreed. “Come, darling, lay your head on my lap.”

The rest of the picnic was quiet, and later that night once you both returned to the Elfsong, Astarion impatiently waited for you to fall asleep. Once he was sure you wouldn’t stir, he quickly scribbled a correspondence to Waterdeep. If he was going to protect you, he needed to have more power, and there seemed to be a saying about knowledge leading to power.

Special thanks to @starryjuicebox and @enterthedreams for helping me finish this fic!