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hehetfics · 2 years ago

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The Fog of Aribyrne

Yeosang x female OC (and some Seonghwa)

Word count: 21.2K

Summary: There are many known and unknown realms, inhabitants of some have managed to find a way to travel between them. Others consider the realms to be myths. What happens when they are real and someone who should physically be unable to travel between them manages to travel to another realm?

Warnings: mentions of death, (almost) drowning and blood

Our realm is yet one of many. Some similar to ours, others more dangerous and exotic than others. A select few inhabitants of these realms have the possibility to occasionally travel from one realm to the next. The paths of the realms are never to cross, however during some rare instances they intertwine for a short period of time, allowing regular people to travel from one realm to another. Whenever realms intertwine, they bring along odd, almost magical, phenomena. Something that always brings wonder to those who cross it, but also death if they are not careful enough. Many of these occurrences leave the people to create myths about them. One such myth is the ‘Fog of Aribyrne’.

For as long as he could remember Yeosang had been traveling the twelve seas of Ophyrion. He felt more at home on the waves than on land. He had heard of the many myths of the seas, from creatures such as nereids and sea serpents to weather phenomena such as the fog of Aribyrne. Yet after spending most of his life on the seas, he had yet to experience any of these myths. Hence, he wrote them off as nothing more than myths. Yeosang had sailed under many captains, seen many crewmembers come and go, but none of them knew him too well. He was someone who did his job and kept to himself most of the time.

The Amarylis was on a semi-regular journey, one the ship made every few months. Yeosang was well-known with the waters and everything felt normal. The sun was shining down on the ship as Yeosang was staring out at the never-ending sea from the crow’s nest. It was one of the rare days during which he did not have a lot of tasks to do and could enjoy some alone time while keeping an eye on their navigational aids along the horizon and up in the sky. A few clouds cluttered the blue sky, along with a couple of birds, indicating that despite the seemingly never-ending blue water, there was land not too far away from them.

Every member of the crew was surprised when a mysterious fog suddenly rolled in; their vision being obscured completely. They could only see within five meters of themselves as an odd smell lingered around them. The saltiness of the ocean seemingly disappeared, as it was replaced by an oddly sweet smell; the smell of several kinds of flowers blooming in Spring. The men on the deck stood still, not knowing what was to happen. Yeosang carefully climbed down the mast to join the others on deck. They heard stories about this fog, of course they had. It was but one of many legends about the seas. The wooden ship creaked as the captain of the men opened the door and walked upon the deck, looking for his men. “What’s going on?” he yelled, as his view was just as obstructed as everyone else’s. “I think it might be the Fog of Aribyrne,” a voice was heard through the fog. “That is bullshit, that’s just a story to keep people off the seas. We’ve been here tons of times!” the captain answered. “But captain…” another crewmember’s voice cut through the fog.

A sudden gust of wind startled everyone on deck, pushing Yeosang against the taffrail of the Amarylis. The wind was slowly becoming stronger and stronger, yet somehow the fog never seemed to move. It was almost as if it was a part of the ship. “Captain, what should we do?” Yeosang yelled from where he was on the ship. However, before the captain had time to answer his second in command, shadows could be seen through the thick fog. Their appearance being inhuman, stilled fear in everyone on the deck. The fear within their bodies made sure no sound left their bodies, as the ship slowly started disappearing below the waves. The sound of the waves coming closer and closer, the ship creaking as the water is slowly filling the hull, everybody on board wondering how the ship was going down. As the rush of adrenaline hit the crew, screams and gurgles could be heard on the otherwise quiet sea. One by one, they could no longer hear a sound, see the daylight, as the sea reclaimed them. All except for one; the quartermaster; Yeosang.

As his body was slowly sinking to the bottom of the sea, he could hear a soft voice. His eyes becoming the size of saucers as the salt made them feel like burning; he knew he should not be able to hear anything underwater. The soft voice was calling to him; “Hear my voice beneath the sea, sleeping now so peacefully, at the bottom of the sea, sleep for all eternity, sailors live so restlessly, come with me, sleep peacefully”. His arms felt heavy, he had no idea why he did not even try to swim back up. He had been under the waves countless times, but always found his way back up. It was as if the voice held a certain power over him. With the last bit of energy he could muster, he turned his head, trying to find the source of the voice. Strands of his blonde hair covered his eyes for a second, before the sinking current got a hold of them again. The voice tried to lull him to sleep, and he knew not to give in, but as his body sank deeper and deeper, his eyelids grew heavier. “Listen to this siren’s song, worry not for nothing’s wrong, let my voice lead you this way, I will not lead you astray. Trust me as we reach the side, jumping out where men have died”.

As his body turned around in the water, he saw a shadow making its way towards the surface. Squinting as best as he could, he saw arms reach up for him. At first it seemed like they were reaching for the corpses of his crewmates that were sinking alongside him. However, Yeosang quickly realised that they were reaching for him. Soon he saw a pair of golden eyes gazing back into his half-closed ones. Somehow her eyes seemed to be unbothered by the saltiness around them, whereas his eyes surely held a certain redness to them by now. “Let the ocean fill your lungs, struggle not, soon peace will come, taking in your final breath, sinking down to the ocean’s depths”. As he gazed into the eyes of what appeared to be a woman, her words sank in and subconsciously he opened his mouth, letting the salty water fill his lungs.

His thoughts wandered, wondering how he ended up like this. Why did the gods want things to end like this for him? In his mind he did no wrong. Yes, he might have been a pirate, but that did not mean he would hurt innocent people. In fact, he tried to help them. Yeosang was the only one of his crew to do so. A slight pang of anger and disappointment came over him as he realised, he never did anything to stop his mates. Maybe he did deserve this.

Suddenly he felt her hands take his, giving him a soft smile before continuing with the, what he thought to be hers, enchanting song. “I wish I could always be, in the ocean’s arms, you see, ocean was your lover’s name, you had loved her all the same”. Suddenly he felt her halt, her body no longer swimming what appeared to be up. He had no idea why he was expecting her to bring him back to the surface. As she started to pull him further down, he realised that this was the end. She kept swimming deeper and deeper, the sea surrounding him showed no colour but black. Her brown hair would be indistinguishable from the sea if it were not for her pale skin to provide contrast. The pressure of all the water above him slowly became too much. He was to either pass out from the lack of oxygen or pure pressure any moment now. She suddenly started swimming faster, pulling him towards what looked to be a faint dot of a light. As she swam faster and faster, the light slowly became brighter as they neared it. “Hear my voice beneath the sea, sleeping now so peacefully” was the last thing he heard before his eyes closed, for what he thought would be the last time.

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It was a peaceful day in the Aribyrne realm. The sun was shining brightly above the stunning beaches of Maelynne. The almost-white sand reflecting the sunlight back to the sky, which held nothing but a single cloud. A soft breeze brought the smell of the flowers blooming further inland. It would almost seem as if you were still in the Ophyrion realm, were it not for the inhabitants of this realm speaking a tongue not known to any other realm. Laeanna and Maiae were two of the inhabitants, they had a day off from their usual routine and the friends decided to soak up some sun and enjoy the water. The two resemble humans, however if one looked closer at them, they could see the pointy ears and different marks adorn their bodies. Swirls ran over their arms and legs in a slightly darker tone than the rest of their skin, almost making it seem as if there were long pieces of velvet wrapped around their limbs.

Laeanne put down the blanket they had brought for their picnic before Maiae placed the basket on it and started to unpack all the snacks they had brought. "Are you sure you packed everything?" Maiae asked. "I feel like we're missing a few things." Laeanne looked over at everything that was placed before the two of them. "I think so, yeah. I wouldn't know what we could possibly be missing." The other girl just shrugged and sat down, leaning back to enjoy the warm rays of the sun. "This was a good idea. I just hope the weather will stay like this." Maiae looked over at her friend's strawberry blonde hair. It was the lightest colour the hair of the people living in this realm could have and she had always been pretty jealous of it. Even though her own hair was a gorgeous chocolate brown colour, she had always been fascinated by the lighter colours. That is how she and Laeanne met years ago. To this day, she still does not know how she had the courage to step up to her and start up a conversation.

The two spent the next few hours chatting about whatever came to their minds, taking a dive and munching on all the food they brought with them. The sun was slowly setting, its warm rays cooling down and as it neared the horizon. The delicious snacks were long gone. The entire time the breeze brought lovely scents from the flowers to them. That was until the direction of the wind suddenly changed and it picked up in strength. The pristine sand blowing all over the place, including into the eyes of the two relaxing girls. "Let us pack up and go home. It looks like a storm is coming." Laeanne said first and got up to pack their stuff as a few dark clouds rolled in. "It was nice for as long as it lasted." Maiae agreed. They quickly put everything back into the basket. The pair was about to leave as Maiae glanced back at the sea one last time. She regretted not going for a longer swim earlier. As she gazed longingly, a light suddenly caught her eye. Her mother had told her about it happening from time to time. She said that it usually brought things from the other realm known as Ophyrion. Although they could travel between the realms if they wanted, they could never bring things back as they would not survive the crossing. Therefore items from the other realm were highly valued throughout their world.

She turned around fully and wandered back towards the sea. "Laeanne, do you see that?" she asked her friend who turned around. "You mean the light?" Laeanne turned around as well, following her friend from a distance. "Yeah, do you think we will be able to get the items?" She had only visited the other realm two or three times, but she was fascinated by it. However, it took too much power to travel from realm to realm to do it often. "I'm going to check it out." Maiae said with determination. "Do not do it," Laeanne said, wanting to stop her friend from doing something reckless, "What if the current is too strong and will drag you away?" But it was too late. Her friend had already taken her shoes off, unbothered by the dress she was still wearing, she dove into the water and swam towards the light. The saltiness of the water did not bother her eyes as she swam closer to the light. When she arrived at the light, she turned back to look at her friend on the shore and gave her a quick wave to let her know that she was okay. She turned back around and dove further into the continuously cooling water, the storm apparently coming from a colder place.

It was her luck that the inhabitants of this realm would almost be considered to be part aquatic, as they could hold their breath for a longer period of time and swim extremely well. At first, she saw nothing of interest, looking around herself only to spot some seaweed and a few fish. Maiae decided to dive down a little deeper before she would give up. And after swimming a little further, she could see a shadow slowly drifting her way. Her eyes widened in surprise. The shadow seemed really big compared to all the items of the Ophyrion realm that ended up in their realm. She knew she did not have a lot of time left before she ran out of breath, so she hurried up and swam towards the shadow. She became even more surprised when she realised that it was not an item, but a person that was drifting her way. Maiae knew that the inhabitants of Ophyrion usually did not survive the journey from their realm to hers, as this appeared to be the only way they could, and they were not able to hold their breath as long as she could.

She quickly swam towards the person, seeing that they were still conscious as the person appeared to be looking around. As she neared them, she could see that it was a man who had managed to find his way to Aribyrne. She swam towards him and took his hands in hers. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, to let him know everything was going to be okay. He seemed confused and out of it. She had heard stories of humans who travelled to that realm. It was said that Ahdona, the goddess of the sea, would sing to the sailors who were about to pass on, to bring them comfort and reassurance. She assumed that he must be hearing her singing right now, thinking he was still sinking to the bottom of the sea he knew so well. He opened his mouth and bubbles of oxygen left his body. Maiae suddenly halted and panicked. Had she gotten to him too late? Was Ahdona going to take him with her?

Maiae started to pull him up towards the oxygen he so desperately needed. It took her a good minute and a half to get him there and about halfway through she realised his eyes had closed fully. She broke through the water and took a big breath of air before quickly swimming back to the shore, still trying to pull the man with her. 'I hope I am not too late'. The thoughts of being too late to save this man made her panic. "Laeanne!" she yelled as she neared the beach, she had spent the last couple of hours on. "I found someone!" Her friend just looked at her with confusion. "Did you just say someone? Do you not mean something?" she yelled back. "No, someone! And he is alive!" Although it was not a rare occurrence that inhabitants of other realms crossed over, it was unique that he was still alive.

Maiae finally reached the shore and pulled the man upon the sand. "Oh by Nahthys! How did he survive the crossing?" Laeanne spoke. "I do not know, but we have to help him." They pulled him further up the shore, near the treeline, hoping to get some shelter from the rain that would inevitably pour down soon. Maiae's dress clung to her body, but it was the least of her concerns at the moment. She turned him on his side, hoping he would cough up some water on his own. As they waited for a moment, Maiae could not help but notice the colour of his hair, she had never seen someone with such a light hair colour in Aribyrne. She remembered his brown eyes staring into hers, it would be an understatement if she said she was not intrigued by him. She gently touched the birthmark by his left eye, never having seen anything like it before. "I think you were too late, sorry Maiae." Her friend said as the man had not moved since he was dragged on dry land. "No, I cannot be." She sat him up and started to rub his back in a pattern she learned by heart at a young age, mumbling in an ancient language. "What are you doing? We are not allowed to do that! That is not why Nahthys taught our people about her powers!" She knew her friend was right; she was not allowed to use their powers on inhabitants of Ophyrion or any other realm besides their own. Yet she could not help herself. "This is your mess; I am not helping you out of it this time." Laeanne said and started backing off.

Maiae was known for getting in trouble all the time and Laeanne often came to her rescue. At the same time, Maiae was also known for having a big heart and caring for everyone. That might be why she wanted to save this man so bad. When she saw his eyes underwater, they showed surprise and fear, but also something she could not place, and she wanted to know what he thought. "I am leaving, let me know if you need to talk." This was one big mess Laeanne would not be a part of, even though they usually were inseparable. However, breaking such an important law was too much. As Maiae finished her soft chanting, she placed the man on his back again.

She sat next to him in silence, waiting for any sort of reaction. But as the rain started to fall down, she realised she might have really been too late. "I am sorry I was too late." she said to the man, although he would not be able to hear her. Even if he could, he would not understand as she spoke her own language. She got up and started to leave, a small sob leaving her body. She had hoped that she was in time to save him, but he had not taken a breath of air in a couple of minutes. Even breaking the law and using her powers could not save him. As she was walking away, Maiae was shocked to hear coughs coming from behind her a few seconds later. She gasped and rushed back to the man. It was clear to everyone who saw him that he was weak; his skin was pale and clammy, his eyes were red from the salt of the sea. The journey had taken a massive toll on his body. Maiae kneeled down next to him as he slowly sat up again. She moved the hair out of his eyes and swept some sand off his nose.

The man quickly looked around, as if he were not supposed to be here. Some drops of water flew from his hair into her face. She tried to ignore them and gently took one of the man's hands before soothingly rubbing up and down his arm. "It is okay, you are safe here." He looked at her, not being able to understand what she said. He finally broke his silence, only asking one thing, his voice raspy from the salty water and lack of air; "where am I?"

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“Where am I?” he repeated his question, his voice laced with confusion. Maiae moved backwards to give him some space, the rain still falling down on both of them as the leaves of the trees above them barely gave them any shelter. The woman did the first thing that came to her mind, which was to comfort him. “You’re safe, don’t worry”. She shuddered as a gust of wind blew through the leaves, the damp dress not doing anything to protect her from the cold. He raised his eyebrows at her, even more confusion on his face. “Did I wash up on some foreign land?” He quickly whipped his head around, taking in his surroundings. It all looked so normal to him. But as he cast another glance at the woman in front of him, he noticed her ears and the marks adorning her body. He gasped in shock and scooted further away from her. “You’re-…” he stuttered, not being able to get a full sentence out. He had heard of her people before, but none of them were stories he particularly enjoyed. The disturbing tales of the few who managed to get back to Ophyrion spread among the twelve seas echoed around in his mind. The gruesome stories of people being sacrificed to their gods in the bloodiest ways, creatures like her seemingly having no care for people like him.

Maiae quickly realised that he could not understand her tongue. She felt hurt at his fear of her, although she could understand him. Although she had travelled between the realms, he had not. It most likely was his first time in a different realm. She tried to recall the few lessons she once had about one of the few languages spoken in Ophyrion. The people of Aribyrne made it their task to at least speak some of the tongues they spoke in realms they were to visit. Although communication between the inhabitants of each realm was forbidden, it might have to be used to save oneself someday. She could merely hope he would speak the one she knows. “You… are… safe.” She hesitantly spoke, carefully considering each word. “You”, she said pointing at him, “understand?” He nodded, indicating that he could understand her. However, it did not make him feel any safer. “Where am I?” he asked once again, wiping some of the rain from his forehead. “Maelynne, in Aribyrne,” she answered, trying not to scare him even more. She sat there, staring at him. She was carefully planning her next steps. She could not simply take him to her town, the people living there would be livid that she brought someone from Ophyrion with her. She also knew she could not leave him out here. The weather might get to him or the other creatures living in this realm. The distraught and exhausted look in his eyes made her pity him.

Suddenly something on his white blouse caught her eye, a long gash surrounded by a red stain. “Pain?” she asked him, trying her best to communicate with him. He gave her an even more confused look. She pointed at his stomach. Yeosang looked down and gasped, he had not even noticed the cut. However, as the adrenaline of everything was slowly leaving his body, he could feel himself becoming slightly more lightheaded. He groaned and decided to find comfort in the sand again. Maiae knew she had to do something. “Wait… I right back”, she said and got up, wanting to get some items to patch him up with. Luckily for him, she always carried a little first aid pack with her in her bag. The woman looked for any signs of her friend Laeanne, hoping she might still be lurking around somewhere. However, she was only met with disappointment. Maiae quickly found her bag in the sand next to her shoes, all of which were completely forgotten when she got out of the water. She grabbed both her shoes and bag and walked back to Yeosang. He was facing the leaves above them, a sudden gust of wind occasionally blowing his hair across his forehead. She sat down next to him, the rough sand slightly hurting her knees. Yeosang opened his eyes to look at her, in his eyes she was way too close to him for comfort. Yet he was so weak, he would not be able to do anything. Her cold hands suddenly gripped the bottom of his blouse and slightly lifted it up. As a reflex the injured man slapped her hands away. “Stop”, he said threateningly, or at least he attempted to sound like that. “You pain, I help”, Maiae said. This time she was the one to slap his hands away and continued with what she was doing.

Meanwhile Yeosang’s mind was running wild. He was wondering if she were simply checking how he looked so they could sacrifice him later. His heart started pounding at all the intrusive and horrifying thoughts. Soon he felt Maiae put some sort of crème on the gash, making him hiss in pain, before putting what appeared to be gauze on it. “Okay, that’s it. Heal… fine” she spoke again, knowing the medicine would work fast on people from Ophyrion. The entire time, in the back of his mind, he had been slightly surprised at how she tried to communicate with him in his language. Luckily for the both of them, the rain stopped, and the skies started to clear up again. It was almost as if the weather was only brought on by the gate between the two realms opening. Maiae changed positions so she could sit cross-legged, finally being able to soak up some of the last rays of sunlight again. The sweet smell of the flowers had also returned as the harsh wind disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared. Taking in a deep breath, she smiled as she gazed out at the ocean as her damp hair clung to her face. Yeosang was amazed by their interactions thus far. All his people had told him was that the beings in Aribyrne were evil creatures, only thirsting for blood. Yet here he was, facing one of the creatures he had once feared so much. But instead of hurting him, she was helping him. He slowly sat up straight again, feeling as if he had already regained some strength.

Yeosang was still careful to not worsen the injury on his stomach. The woman was leaning back on her hands, just soaking up the light, almost as if it were to give her energy. His mind almost compared it to photosynthesis.

Soon her gaze was back on him and she gave him a smile. He still looked at her with uncertainty. He was almost convinced that he had died in the water if it were not for the slight sting of pain coming from the large gash on his stomach. She lifted her hand and pointed at herself. “Maiae,” she introduced herself, “you?” she asked and pointed at him. He tilted his head for a second, wondering if she was once again speaking to him in her language. “Me?” he asked and pointed at himself. She simply nodded in reply, making him deduct that what he thought to be a word in her language, merely was her name. “Uhh, I’m Yeosang”. Maiae smiled, she was finally making a little progress with him. She hoped to gain his trust, but she understands that he is weary of her. “You feeling okay?” she questioned him. This time he was the one nodding in reply.

A few moments later Yeosang had finally gained the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while. “Are you going to hurt me?” She looked at him with a puzzled look. She had no idea what the word hurt meant, it was not one of the words that she had been taught. “Hurt?” she repeated him with a slightly tilted head, indicating that she did not understand him. He quickly remembered she said the word pain earlier. “Give me pain,” he rephrased. A few seconds later she gasped. She could not believe the man thought she would hurt him. “No, no, no pain!” she said in a panicked tone. “I got you out water, why give pain?” Maiae was really doing her best trying to communicate with him, but her vocabulary was very limited. It took Yeosang a little while before her words truly sank in. She had saved him. He wondered how as he was sinking towards the bottom of the sea, but somehow, she brought him back to the surface, of another realm, nonetheless.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, Maiae deep in thought on what to do next, whereas Yeosang was taking in his environment again. He was slowly starting to realise that he was no longer in his home realm of Ophyrion. He had somehow managed to travel to Aribyrne, the realm dreaded by everyone on the twelve seas of Ophyrion. She soon realised that their best option was for her to take him home, despite her inner voice warning her of how bad this idea was. Her luck was that she lived on the edge of town, but it would still be risky to take someone from his realm into her home. She could simply not leave him behind though. She had to sneak him in somehow, even if it was extremely dangerous for the both of them. Inhabitants of his realm were not allowed to be in Aribyrne, or alive at least, so if her Elders found out, they would be in huge trouble. A sudden realisation hit her as she looked at the sun that had set by now. The creatures of the night chirping away, filling the air with sounds. It was her luck that Laeanne had brought a basket of food, whereas she had brought the bag with a blanket to sit on. She looked at Yeosang with a smile, happy she had an idea to help him. “We go my home,” she spoke to him once more. The injured man looked at her with confusion and exhaustion. Everything was starting to take a toll on him, the near-death experience, his injury, the journey between realms.

She stood up and held her hands out to him, “up!” He cautiously took her hand. The back of his mind still reminded him of all the gruesome stories he had been told. Maiae pulled him up with ease, stabilising him as he almost tumbled forwards, one of his hands clutching the gauze on his stomach. “Careful.” She bent down and took the blanket out of the bag and put it over his head. “Nobody see you.” Closing the blanket in the front before his hand took over from hers.

This sentence made another rush of fear come over him. If nobody is allowed to see him, does that mean not everyone here is like her? Will they get caught? What if they get caught? All these questions made his head spin, making him groan. She looked at him with worry, something that once again surprised him. “We go now,” she wanted to get them into the warmth of her house before the cold temperatures of the evening made their appearance.

Maiae grabbed one of his hands again and slowly started to walk back towards her home. She was filled with dread and worry, slightly clamming up her hands. She really did not want to get caught. Although she had done many things her Elders had disagreed with, it never was something of this extent. She looked back at the man she was dragging along. Even though he looked like a wreck, he was also filled with curiosity. “Are you sure nobody will catch us?” Yeosang asked, the scent of the flowers was almost overwhelming him at this point. The pain in his stomach was nothing more but a faint throbbing now, however he was still very careful with it. He had no clue what Maiae had put on it, maybe it made him feel better at first before slowly killing him. She looked back at him for a second before continuing to walk along the narrow path between the many trees and shrubs. Maiae would have loved to answer him, but she simply did not understand what he had said. There was no time to dwell on it either, as she wanted to get to her house as quickly as possible.

After five more minutes of walking, they had finally reached the edge of the town. The smell of flowers was slowly being replaced by that of freshly made food as it was time for dinner. The moon alongside a lantern every once in a while, illuminating the streets. The woman’s home was two more minutes away, they had almost made it. “Maiae!” someone suddenly yelled. Looking to their right, they saw Laeanne run towards them. She looked at Maiae and then at the blanket covered face next to her. “He survived?! What are you doing? Are you crazy?! You cannot bring him here!” she whispered and shouted at her, trying not to draw attention to them. Yeosang merely looked confused at the other person, subconsciously tightening his grip on Maiae’s hand. The only question running through his mind was whether they were caught or not. “What was I supposed to do? Leave him to die there?” she whispered back. She anxiously looked at her surroundings, hoping not to draw too much attention to the trio. “Well…” Laeanne obviously did not want to have someone’s death on her conscious, “I do not know, but not this!” she gestured at Yeosang, who was still confused about the conversation. “Simply stay out of it then. Just, please do not tell anyone. I beg of you…” she pleaded. She would have used her hands to emphasise it if it were not for Yeosang almost having a death grip on her hand by now. Laeanne sighed but nodded her head. “Do not get yourself killed because of this; his kind is not worth it.” Maiae nodded her head as a silent thank you and quickly continued her way. A few eyes had set on them by the time the conversation had ended, and it had made both of them nervous.

Luckily, the rest of the way went without a hitch and they soon arrived. Maiae’s house was a quaint little, one-story cottage. Several types of flowers adorned the little garden, big trees offering them some shade from the sometimes-harsh afternoon sun. She quickly opened the door and ushered Yeosang on and let go of his hand before giving the outside one quick glance and closing the door again. “Okay now.” She said with a smile. Yeosang slowly took the blanket off, looking around the house. It was small but felt cosy, a smell that he would compare to vanilla filled the air. As Maiae snapped her fingers, lanterns and candles suddenly lit up the place, leaving Yeosang shocked at what he just saw her do. Little plants were placed throughout what appeared to be the living room. A large cabinet filled with books was the thing that piqued his interest the most. He wondered if some of them were in his language or if they were only in hers.

Maiae snapped him out of his thoughts by grabbing his hand and slowly taking him to another room. “Sit please” she said and pointed at a chair by a dining table. Yeosang slowly sat down, his wound stinging lightly. They did not converse as the woman turned around and started to cook a meal for the two of them. Maiae merely hoped he liked the food of this realm; she knew that food in Ophyrion was different from what they ate in Aribyrne. Although Yeosang could not see what she was making, he thought it smelled delicious. It might be because he had not eaten a proper meal in a while or simply because of the events that had occurred in such a short amount of time. Once she placed the meal down in front of them a little while later, they both ate in silence. They knew they had a lot of questions for each other, but they were also very aware of the language barrier. Maiae decided that considering how weak Yeosang still is, it would also be wise to not overwhelm him for now. “Thank you, this is really good” he broke the silence as soon as his stomach was content. The woman sitting across from him smiled; “thank you”.

She put both of their dishes in a sink. Yeosang realised that maybe things here were not so different from his home realm. “Come”, Maiae spoke again. Yeosang followed her, slowly starting to trust her, but also not letting his guard down completely. Afterall, she had done nothing so far to make him think otherwise, yet she still was a creature of some of the many nightmares he had.

At the end of a short hallway, she opened the door to a room slightly smaller than the living room. A big bed in the middle of the room and once again plants everywhere. The deep red walls gave him a feeling of warmth, whereas the wooden floors would probably be cold to the touch. The fluffy carpet looking like the only source of warmth on the floor. On the right side, dark green curtains were drawn shut, as to not let anyone see inside. Maiae walked over to the dresser opposite of the window and took out nightwear typical for her people. “My… uhm… what is the word… brother’s clothes. You wear” she said and placed them on the bed. Yeosang carefully walked through the room, as if any touch were to break everything. Maiae smiled at his amazement and let out a small giggle, gaining his attention. “I fix, clean yours tomorrow.” She was about to leave the room before Yeosang stopped her by surprise. “Thank you for being so kind, goodnight”, he spoke in a soft, still slightly hoarse voice. “Good… night Yeo- Yeosang” she said and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Yeosang quickly, yet carefully changed into the clothes she had left on the bed, so as to not irritate the healing wound. Before putting on the shirt, he carefully removed the gauze, and to his surprise the gash was almost completely healed, only leaving a faint scar in its place. He blew out the candles in the lanterns on the wall, until the only candle illuminating the room was the one on the bedside table. As he crawled into the bed, he was surprised at how soft that it was. It was probably the softest bed he had ever slept on. The only thing he could compare it to would be a cloud. The smell of vanilla very prominent in the bedsheets, but not in a bad way. As he blew out the last candle and pulled the sheets up to his chin, he was grateful that the stories were nothing more but stories so far. “Sweet dreams Maiae,” he whispered as exhaustion took over his mind and his eyes shut for the night.

______________________________________________________________

Maiae had been tossing relentlessly, not being able to get any more sleep than she had gotten by now, which was no more than a measly five hours, compared to her usual nine hours. She felt tired, but sleep would simply not come to her. She decided to just get out of bed already, two hours before she usually would. She looked through her wardrobe for a comfortable outfit, before settling on a flowy, off-white, lace summer dress.

After making herself a simple breakfast, she walked into her crafts/study room. Picking up Yeosang’s ripped shirt that she had taken from him the night before, she sat down on the stool in front of her workbench. Maiae started to hum a song sung to her many times as she started to repair the piece of fabric. “Hear them, listen to them, Nahthys, Chaesis, Ijun and Ahdona, if they call you from beyond the fog”. She opened a drawer to find her needle and a thread fitting the colour of Yeosang’s shirt, putting the thread through the eye of the needle. “Fear cannot consume you; their message is of importance.” She slowly started sowing his shirt, careful not to prick the needle into her own finger. “Hear them, listen to them, the four of harmony have a message for you.” Slowly, but surely, the gash in the shirt started to disappear. “The one who shall bring peace is on their way, their knowledge shall enlighten all.”

Sewing was nothing new for Maiae luckily. She had always had a passion for creating things with which she could express herself. Yet it was a rare occasion that she received the opportunity to work with fabric from Ophyrion. “Do not be scared my child, the four will not let you stray from your path.” Taking a quick sip of tea to soothe her throat, she continued sowing. The fabric of Ophyrion felt soft, almost too precious to hold in her hands. Clothes from Ophyrion were rare in Aribyrne. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford them. Hence Maiae felt almost honoured to work with it. “The road may seem dark and frightening, the four of harmony shall protect you.” Just as she finished singing, she finished fixing Yeosang’s shirt. “Protect you as you meet the one.”

A soft breeze made the curtains sway, letting sunlight enter the room. The soft glow is warming Yeosang’s face. The few specks of dust in the air made him scrunch up his nose as the velvety blanket was pulled up to his chin. His body and mind were exhausted and in desperate need of the rest he had during the night. Maiae stood in the doorframe, wondering if she should wake him up. She was still sleepy herself, the warm fragrant tea only doing so much to wake her up. The contemplation on whether to wake him up weighed heavy on her mind, as well as the question of what to do with him. Leaving him to fend for himself was out of the question, but he could not stay here like this.

In the end she opted to let him sleep some more, he did have a near-death experience after all. As she wandered into the living room, she looked at the books. Even all the knowledge on the shelves could not help her, Maiae doubted anyone had ever experienced something like this. She blankly stared at the wall in front of her as she held the cup of tea up to her lips without actually drinking. The thoughts running through her mind distracted her so much that she did not even notice Yeosang walking into the room. He silently walked over to her and knelt down in front of her, shoving his internal fear of her aside. He had no idea why, but he slowly covered her hands with his larger ones and brought her hands down, making sure the tea stayed steady in them. He did not want to scare her, but he also needed to talk to her. “Are you okay?” he asked. The sound of his voice made her snap out of the void that was filled with her thoughts. “What?” she looked around as she came back to the current reality. “Oh, I- I fine, you more important, you okay?” she answered looking into his eyes. It somehow brought her back to the moment he almost died, his eyes capturing hers, somehow giving her the confirmation that she needed to save him. Yeosang gazed back into her golden eyes. His warm hands still cupped hers as he was struggling to find the words. Neither of them made a move to remove their hands as Maiae was patiently waiting on Yeosang’s reply, both a little lost in translation. His subconscious was yelling at him. ‘Why was he holding the hands of a creature he is supposed to fear? Why are there no traces of malice in her eyes?’ He raked his mind for answers, yet he found none.

After five more seconds of silence the man finally snapped out of it. “Uhm, yeah I’m fine.” He answered. Maiae smiled in reply, making Yeosang smile as well. The peaceful moment was interrupted by the man’s stomach making a loud rumbling noise. The woman giggled before gently removing her hands from his. “I make you morning food.” She said, not knowing the word for breakfast, and got up, walking towards the kitchen. Yeosang meanwhile released a breath he did not know he was holding. He fell forward on his knees, his forehead hitting the spot on the soft brown couch where she just sat. Confusion took over his mind, why was he like this to her? Was her kind secretly some sort of siren as well; luring sailors in by winning their trust and then offering them to their gods. A bunch of conflicting thoughts and feelings started to rage within him. Would he ever see his crewmates again? Go back to the seas he loves so much? Somehow his feelings became too much to bear in this moment and he started to softly cry, falling to his knees. Tears stained the couch in front of him, darkening the fabric as he desperately wiped the tears off his cheeks, trying to not draw Maiae’s attention to him.

Meanwhile Maiae took a break from preparing breakfast and poured Yeosang a cup of tea, thinking by now he would have taken a seat somewhere. As she walked back into the living room, she was surprised to see him furiously trying to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Oh my…” She put the cup down on the table next to them and crouched down beside him. “You not okay.” Maiae said as she gently pulled him up and sat him down on the couch before sitting next to him. As soon as he sat down, he pulled his arm from her grip. “Please stop.” Yeosang said as he was getting rid of the last few tears on his face. Despite her urge to comfort him, Maiae took a step back and gave him his space. Soon his sniffles were the only noise in the room. Yeosang sighed and leaned back against the soft comfort of the couch. “Drink,” Maiae whispered as she pointed to the cup on the table, “I finish food for you.” She stood up and left the room, leaving the quartermaster alone with his thoughts again. He sighed, looking at the drink that was left for him at the table, his eyes red from the salty tears. He never thought he would yearn this much for his home, but he also never expected to end up in Aribyrne. He took the cup in his hands and brought it up to his face, the mild smell of fresh herbs somehow calming him down. Taking in a deep breath, he took a sip of the hot drink. The taste was odd, it was like nothing they had in Ophyrion. He was not the biggest fan of it, but he also did not despise it.

Yeosang decided that now might be a good time to have a good look around the living room. The walls, or whatever was visible of them, were a cream colour. Most of them, however, were hidden by many bookshelves. For some reason, he only focused on one of the many cabinets the previous night. Once again, he wondered if they were all in her language or if he could read some of them. Would they use the same script as him, or would it be something completely unreadable to him? The floors were made of dark wood, only one white carpet adorning it. Yeosang wondered if this was the place where she would sit and read, maybe learn more of his language. His thoughts ran wild as he took another sip of the tea. He had so many questions, yet he did not know if he would ever get some of them answered.

After a few minutes of Yeosang mindlessly sipping his tea, simply staring ahead to the many books adorning the wall, Maiae walked in and placed a plate of warm food in front of him. She tried to give him a comforting smile, but he could see the worry in her eyes. “Please eat,” she quietly said. Yeosang opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a sound out, a knock was heard from the door. “Maiae, open the door please,” Maiae heard her best friend’s voice through the door. Yeosang, however, did not recognise the voice and looked at her with an alarmed expression. She walked over to the door as Yeosang jumped over the back of the couch and grabbed her arm. “Please, do not open the door.” He begged her with a panicked voice. She looked at his hand wrapped around her arm and carefully placed her hand on his. “Is okay, she is friend.” Maiae said as she slowly unwrapped his fingers from her arm. Yeosang let her remove his hand, but as it fell to his side, he carefully took a few steps back. He wanted to be ready to run if they were to come after him. Although his mind reasoned with him, that running outside, where more of the creatures like her are, might not be the smartest idea.

Despite knowing it was her friend at the door, Maiae opened the door only slightly, in case she brought someone with her. Peeking through the gap, she was relieved to see it was Laeanne and nobody else. “Come in quickly.” She opened the door far enough so her friend could enter. Yeosang stood in a defensive stance. Laeanne stood in the living room as her friend closed the door behind her. “Yeosang, go eat, please.” Maiae asked once more. “Laeanne, we should talk in the kitchen.” Yeosang took a step to the side when the two women walked by him, carefully eyeing Laeanne up and down. He did not even trust Maiae fully, so why should he trust her?

The brightness of the kitchen was a stark contrast to the tension in the air. The dark cherry wooden cabinets offered a certain warmth in contrast to the ivory walls. The granite countertops were cold to the touch, sending shivers down Maiae’s spine as she put her left hand down for stability as she reached up to grab a cup out of the recently opened cabinet. Laeanne sat down on a chair next to the kitchen island, being careful to not hit her head on the overhanging pots, pans, and utensils. “Why are you here?” she asked while pouring a cup of the still warm tea. “You know why I’m here. What are you going to do about him?” she questioned as she took the tea out of her friend’s outreached hand. Maiae sighed in defeat as she sat down across from her friend. “I do not know. I have been thinking about it all night, but I have no idea. Do you recall this ever having happened before?” Laeanne looked towards the living room where Yeosang had sat himself down on the couch, just staring at the food in front of him. “Sadly enough I do not.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the very few options they had. “You know who might know something…” Laeanne suddenly said. Maiae looked at her in disbelief. “No, we are not bringing Yeosang to him.” She furiously shook her head as she disagreed with her friend. “It is too dangerous. You know he has a dislike for both me and items from Ophyrion, let alone a living being from there!”

Having heard his name, Yeosang’s interest peaked. He obviously knew they were talking about him, but having this confirmation changed something within him. He slowly walked towards the kitchen, his food on the table still forgotten. He silently walked over to the doorway and his right around the corner, careful to not make a sound to alert them. His thoughts were running wild; maybe they had heard him already, maybe they were finally going to sacrifice him. “It might be our only chance to figure out how to solve this. We both know he cannot stay here; this is not where he belongs. Besides, he has a dislike for the obsession others have about items from Ophyrion, nothing has ever been said about a living being. It has probably never happened before.” Yeosang wished he could understand what they were saying, he simply wanted to know about his fate. Maiae sighed. She knew Laeanne was right, but going to him, that was something Maiae would prefer to avoid at all cost. He did not like her, yet he was the only one who showed something besides pure contempt towards her. “I realise that you are not overly fond of him, nor he of you. However, the Elder might be the only one with an answer to this whole ordeal.” Maiae looked at her hands, contemplating Laeanne’s words. Deep within her, she knew her friend was right. It was the only option they had.

For some odd reason, Yeosang felt the urge to speak up, to make his presence known. “Who is the Elder?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen. Laeanne looked to her friend in both surprise and horror. “You taught him words from our language?!” Maiae was just as surprised as her friend was. “I- no I did not! How did he?!” They looked at him wide eyed. “How does you know the Elder?” Laeanne asked him. “Why you understand, speak our language?” she continued to question him as she walked towards him, making him walk back until he hit a wall. “I- I do not know what you are talking about!” he stuttered. “Laeanne, do not threaten him like this.” Maiae placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, slightly pulling her back, before redirecting her attention to Yeosang and speaking in a kind and tender voice; “You said the Elder, how?” The man in front of her dropped to the floor. “I do not know, please do not hurt me.” He begged and placed his hands over his head. “We not hurt you,” Maiae spoke before gently putting her hand on his shoulder. She guided him into a standing position before she turned to her friend and sighed. “Now we definitely have to take him to the Elder.” She turned back to look at Yeosang with pity in her eyes, making the pit in his stomach grow. This issue only seemed to grow and the seemingly only way to resolve it would be to go to the Elder of Maelynne.

______________________________________________________________

Laeanne, Maiae and Yeosang stood in silence. The only sounds coming from the wind softly blowing through the trees outside as the birds happily chirped along. Laeanne sighed, deep down she did not want to help her friend with an issue this big, but she also could not leave her to fend for herself. “I will be back in an hour, be ready by then.” She said walking towards the front door. She gave Yeosang one last glance and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Maiae looked at Yeosang for a second and let out a breath she did not know she was holding. Realising he was still wearing her brother’s clothes; she wordlessly left the room to retrieve his shirt. A look of worry spread across Yeosang’s face. He still did not know who the Elder was and looking at the reactions the two women gave him, he knew he did not want to meet this person. His feet felt heavy as he moved to sit down on the couch again. Clueless and fear were the two most prominent emotions cursing through his veins right now. He put his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself down. He could sense Maiae walking back into the room. “Maiae, am I going to be okay?” She could hear the tremble in his voice. She put his folded shirt on the table and sat down next to him. “Yeosang,” she started, “You be okay, I make sure.” Her hands started rubbing his back in a comforting way, making him look up to her slightly smiling face.

Gathering whatever bit of confidence and courage he had left in him; he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her towards him into a hug.

Maiae was shocked to say the least, however, after a few seconds she wrapped her arms around him as well. “Is okay Yeosang”. He felt guilty for not trusting her; she had saved his life, took him in and everything. Despite only a short period of time having passed, he felt that he could trust her. They stayed seated on the couch, wrapped up in each other’s arms for what felt like forever. “Thank you, for everything.” Yeosang broke the silence, making Maiae pull back instantly. “Thank you? You know more of my language, how?” He wished he could answer her question, but he had no idea himself. “I- I do not know, is this normal?” He returned the question, as Yeosang was just as confused as she was. “I not know as well, why we need to go see the Elder.” She answered him. Maiae reached over to the table and gave the man in front of her his now fixed shirt. “You get ready.” She said with a smile which was supposed to be reassuring, before getting up and walking to her bedroom to get ready herself.

Yeosang gazed at the floor for a minute before getting up to get dressed to meet the Elder. He stood up with the shirt in his hand and walked towards ‘his’ room. As he entered the room, he felt something he did not feel last night, possibly due to his exhaustion. He felt as if he was breaking someone’s privacy. Maiae did mention that the shirt he was wearing was her brother’s, making him assume that this was his room. He did not linger too long on the feeling and took his shirt off, wanting to properly examine the gash he had gotten yesterday. Yeosang expected to see a light scar, considering how quickly Maiae’s medicine had already healed him in such a short amount of time. Instead, he was surprised by intricate swirls similar to Maiae’s and Laeanne’s covering his torso, making him gasp in surprise. “What?” he breathlessly said to no one in particular. He simply sat on the bed; his mind unable to process what was happening to him. First, he suddenly understood and spoke a bit of the strange language and now he was taking on characteristics of them as well. Was he getting possessed by some weird demon from this realm? Did this happen to everyone who somehow ended up here? His mind went into overdrive from all the questions bouncing through his mind. Maybe he would be able to fit in eventually? If he somehow managed to go back to Ophyrion, would they judge him; put him up for display in a museum? Would he go back to normal if he ever ended up back home?

A knock on the door snapped him out of it. “Yeosang? You okay?” he heard Maiae’s soft voice through the door. He quickly put on his previously ripped shirt. Maiae had done an amazing job fixing it. Yeosang was glad that his flowy shirt had long sleeves, because if these swirls already appeared on his torso, who knows where they would appear next. “Uhm yeah, I will be out in a second.” He replied in a rushed voice. He heard her footsteps retreat to what he assumed would be the living room, presumably to wait for him to finish getting changed.

He quickly finished changing, before he would get lost in his thoughts again, and walked back into the living room to see Maiae sitting on the couch with another cup of tea in her hand. The plate of food she had set on the table for him was still present. She turned to him with a smile as he entered the room. “Please, you not eaten yet.” She said and pointed her hand to the plate. He looked at her for a second. She opted on wearing a white flowy dress, almost matching with his shirt, her arms and legs covered in the odd swirls he discovered on himself mere minutes earlier. He once again wondered if he would get them on his arms and legs as well. “Thank you.” He said once more, without shocking Maiae this time. He sat down next to her and grabbed the plate from the table, looking at the food. It looked good, he was not going to deny that, and last night’s meal was really good as well. He just did not know if he was hungry or not. However, the rumbling of his stomach quickly answered that question for him.

He opted to at least take a few bites to soothe his stomach. “Maiae,” Yeosang started and turned to face her, “who is the Elder?” Maiae finished her sip of tea before she sighed, bringing the cup of tea down to lean on her knees. “He is person I not like, he not like me either. You could say he the boss here.” She nervously bounced her knee, having a guy feeling of the question Yeosang was about to ask next. “Why does he not like you?” The question she had been dreading since answering his last one made the room feel heavy. The feeling not escaping Yeosang either, making him quickly add a “you do not have to answer if you do not want”. She contemplated it for a second, wanting to keep it to herself, yet also realising that when she and the Elder will meet again today. The thoughts running through her mind now wondered how she could best convey this to him. “He-, I-, we… Well, I do many good things, but that means I break rules. Like when I save you. In Aribyrne, we not supposed to break rules.” Yeosang nodded along, slowly getting a vision of why Maiae did not like the Elder. His eyes went wide in shock, however, when she said she technically was not allowed to save him. If she had followed the rules, he would have drowned that day. “Anyway, you eat some more.” She said and pointed at his food. “I would love to, it is great, but I am too nervous to eat.” Maiae merely hummed in understanding.

A knock on the door broke the silence. They both knew it was Laeanne and that it was time for them to go see the Elder. Maiae got up from the couch and opened the door for her friend. “Are you ready?” Laeanne asked. “As ready as I'll ever be. Let me grab a cloak for him so he will not get noticed as easily as without.” Maiae walked to the little cabinet to the left side of the room, opening it and grabbing a cloak for Yeosang. He and Laeanne just looked at each other in awkward silence, waiting for their mutual friend to come back. “Here, wear this.” Maiae said and handed the man a cloak so he could hide himself among the locals of this realm. Laeanne simply looked at him with doubt in her eyes. She obviously wanted Maiae to be safe and happy, which meant she also had to keep Yeosang safe. However, that also meant she would have to break some of Aribyrne’s rules, which made her feel highly uncomfortable. “Ready?” she asked both Yeosang and Maiae as the man finished putting the cloak on, with some help from her friend. Yeosang merely sighed and nodded, as did Maiae. The movements of the two are almost identical.

It would be a ten-minute walk to the Elder, a walk all of them dreaded making during the day. The two inhabitants of Aribyrne were hopeful that the Elder would not be too busy to see them today. Even though Maiae and Yeosang would both love to postpone it, they also knew it was inevitable and it would be better to get it over withs sooner than later. Laeanne opened the door and walked out, Yeosang following behind him, followed by Maiae, who closed the door behind her. After walking out of her little front yard, Maiae and Laeanne locked Yeosang in the middle of them, to make sure nobody would be able to grab him. Yeosang finally got a good look of the village, which was hard when Maiae smuggled him in the day before, considering it was night. There were so many more trees, shrubs, and flowers than he could have ever imagined. It seems that he arrived in Spring, most of the trees are green, some even yellow and pink with all the flowers growing on them. They were a stark contrast to the purple sky. This realm had even more differences compared to Ophyrion than Yeosang ever could have imagined. “Tell him to keep his head down.” Laeanne told Maiae. “We do not need to get caught because he is not used to being here.” Yeosang somehow managed to understand a few more words, although he was less surprised by now. He was still looking around, the buildings around them giving him an ancient feeling, sort of like all the historic places he visited while traveling the seas in Ophyrion. “Please, head down.” Maiae whispered to him. Yeosang wanted to protest, but he knew she had the best intentions possible for him, thus he complied. Maiae desperately wanted to talk to him to comfort him, but if she did, they would hear Yeosang was not from their realm. She simply continued to look around nervously. “Since when does it feel as if he lives so much further away?” Maiae asked Laeanne. “Because usually it is just you, you usually are not trying to smuggle someone from another realm to him.” Her friend whispered back with a hint of passive aggression.

After a few more minutes of silence, his curiosity got the best of him and he gazed around again. Not a minute later the three of them heard a gasp coming from a man near them. “Yeosang!” Maiae and Laeanne both whisper yelled. “Is that…?” the man said. “It is nothing, you did not see anything.” Maiae quickly said. “Maiae…” the man said. “Why does everyone in this village know me? Can I not just live my life in peace?” She said with a bit of an attitude, making the man roll his eyes. “You know what, I am not even going to bother. We will probably hear it from the Elder soon.” The man countered and continued on with his day. “Guess I am not the only one who is done with your stunts. You really are outdoing your reputation in Maelynne, huh?” Laeanne jokes, making her friend scoff. “He is probably going to tell it to people around town and soon another crowd will have gathered either with the Elder or at your house, possibly both.” Maiae sighed. Yeosang turned to her, feeling some sort of shame or sadness radiating off of her. “Are you okay?” the quartermaster asked as he grabbed her hand and gave a quick squeeze to comfort her. She replied with an uneasy “yes” before falling silent again. It felt odd to him, she usually tried to speak more with him than just a single word. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand before letting it go again, hoping to have given her some form of comfort. He felt as if that were the least he could do for all the things she had done for him so far.

As the three continued their path, Yeosang tried to analyse what he understood of the conversation Maiae and Laeanne had with the random man. He could grasp the understanding of three to four words, excluding the Elder, despite this it did not make much more sense to him. Ever since the man talked to them, he has not dared to look up again in case of getting caught. He obviously felt lucky that the man did not cause a scene, but he did not want to risk it with any other person. He could still hear some whispers left and right. “What is Maiae doing this time?” “Has she summoned a monster?” “Why is Laeanne helping her?” However, he did not understand all of it, but it was enough to make him realise Laeanne had a pretty good reputation around the village, whereas Maiae did not. He felt bad for her, even though he had not known him for a long time, she had nothing but good intentions. It was hard to believe that she would get judged for that, the words must have a bigger effect on her than she is showing.

Maiae and Laeanne suddenly stopped, making Yeosang bump into one of their shoulders as he was walking one step behind them for a while now. “We are here.” Laeanne said. “This it.” Maiae said so Yeosang surely understood. The building itself did not look very different from the other houses he saw along the road; the entrance might have been slightly higher, but not more than a meter. The bricks somehow gave off a beige-reddish glow, or so it appeared. The intricate blue and green swirls on the beams supporting the roof remind him of the swirls on the bodies of the inhabitants of Aribyrne. The brown, wooden doors seemed to be extremely heavy to open, you would probably need two or three strong people in Ophyrion to open them. Yeosang felt nervous, as if he could throw up any moment now. Laeanne and Maiae started to walk up the stairs to the doors, both having a hand on each of Yeosang’s shoulders to guide him with them.

He heard Maiae sigh again before knocking on the door, making both Yeosang and Laeanne tense up. It would be the first time meeting the Elder for the both of them. “Come in…” A voice, not as deep as Yeosang expected, could be heard from behind the door. He was expecting an almost demonic voice, considering this person was to uphold the rules of the village, if not the realm. The power this person held would be enormous, Yeosang’s mind slowly going back to the way it was before he ended up in Aribyrne. Fearing that this person would end him, he considered running off, even though he would not know where to go. As Maiae and Laeanne guided him further inside, he gave one last glance to the outside as the doors were closing. If he were to run, this would be his chance. When he looked behind him, he saw his chances were gone regardless, as a small group of people had gathered, mumbling to themselves about what was going on at the residence of the Elder. He saw his last chance of escaping diminish as the doors closed, he now had to face; the Elder.

____________________________________________________________

The hallway seemed never ending, the only thing visible in the distance was the darkness; a few chandeliers lighting up the hallway once in a while. The deep green carpet is almost the opposite of the spring green leaves on the trees outside. White pillars on each side give the building an almost ancient feeling to Yeosang. The building seemed much smaller on the outside compared to how long they have been walking through the hallway. Laeanne and Yeosang simply followed Maiae, who knew the way to the Elder all too well. “You know, we can still opt out of this…” Maiae broke the silence. Laeanne looked at her with an unimpressed gaze, “no, we are going. You know this is best for everyone involved.” Maiae sighed. Yeosang looked between the two, still only understanding bits and pieces. “Maiae,” the quartermaster said, “why do you not like the Elder?” he asked once more, remembering the slightly vague answer she gave him last time. “It has lot of reasons.” She answered as vaguely as the first time.

After what felt like forever, a massive door, made of what appeared to be solid wood, finally came into sight. Once again, the intricate swirls caught Yeosang’s eye, and he wondered if more of his body would be covered in them by now. For some strange reason he only now noticed the two guards standing on each side of the door. ‘Whoever this Elder is, he must be very important,’ Yeosang thought. The two guards appeared to be taller and broader than the inhabitants of Aribyrne that he had seen so far, maybe they were from a different realm as well. The man now considered himself slightly dumb for thinking that Ophyrion was the only realm in existence, so who knew how many other realms there could be. Were they all in contact with each other? Was Ophyrion the only odd one out? He once more wondered if he would ever be able to go home again, but he also wondered if he could even go home considering the changes in his appearances. Would his crewmates-, no they most likely all died the night he ended up in Maelynne. What about his other friends though; would they accept him?

Laeanne slightly nudged Yeosang, breaking him out of his trance. “We are here.” Maiae said, her back still facing the other two. “Branimyr, Manauia,” Maiae said to the two guards, nodding in their respective direction as she said their names. “Maiae, long time no see.” the one named Manauia said, his long brown hair not covered by any sort of protection. This struck Yeosang as odd, considering that all the guards back in Ophyrion were heavily armed, however here they seemed to be standing there for show more than anything else. Despite them not being heavily armed, Yeosang still would not dare to attack them in any sort of way, the swirls on their arms only seemed to accentuate their muscles. “It is odd to see you here on your own accord, usually you are dragged in.” Branimyr said, his hair up in a bun, showing off the detailed swirls on his neck. Maiae scoffed, “Say what you want, I might be dragged in, yet I never struggle against their hold, I simply refuse to cooperate.” The two guards laughed at her, all too familiar with her past antics. “I see you brought friends with you this time, that is a new sight.” Yeosang once again peeked at them from under his cloak. “Trust me, if it were up to me, we would not have been here right now.” Laeanne answered with a roll of her eyes. “You wanted to let him die!” Maiae said in anger. “What?!” Yeosang whipped his head around and looked at Laeanne with wide eyes, stepping away from her. “You wanted to let me die?!” He shook his head in distress. The realisation that there was a big chance of him actually dying like the rest of his crewmates was a massive blow to him. He started breathing faster and heavier. “Look what you have done, Laeanne! Gosh…” Maiae walked over to Yeosang to calm him down, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and pulling him into her side. “Is okay Yeosang, you safe now.”

The two guards looked at the spiel in front of them in amazement. “Are they speaking-“ Branimyr started. “I think so. He probably is from Ophyrion, how odd.” Manauia answered to his friend and fellow guard. “Sometimes I wonder why you are like this Maiae, your mother is Anhaern, the Elder of Lislea, and look how you turned out. You are pretty much a regular to the Elder of Maelynne for not following the rules.” Laeanne said, in a loud, almost accusatory tone. Maiae let go of Yeosang and took a step closer to her friend. “At least I do not blindly follow the rules and do what is right, even if that means I have to break the rules!” Maiae defended herself. Branimyr stepped forward and put an arm in front of the angry woman. “Calm down, Maiae. You know it is not okay for you to get into an argument with her. That is not how we handle disagreements here.” The loud creaking of the wooden doors snapped everyone out of the little argument bubble they had created and made them turn their heads towards the doors. “What is going on with all the shouting here?” the Elder looked at all the faces that were turned to him. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy. His black hair covered his forehead, which in turn was covered by the hood of his emerald-coloured robe. Golden details decorated the endings of the fabric, intricate patterns similar to those on the skins of everyone in Aribyrne making the robe look even more breath-taking. The train of the robe making him almost appear as a royalty. The Elder sighed as he saw Maiae. “Of course, it is you again, I should have known.” Maiae fully turned to him with a smug smile; “missed me that much?” The Elder rubbed his temples. “Come on in, the sooner we wrap this up, the better.” He said, not in the mood to deal with Maiae once more and turned around to walk back into the room he just came from. It was expected of the others, except for the two guards, to follow him.

The three of them wordlessly followed him into the next room. The dark green carpet continued into the circular room, circling around the fountain in the middle of the room. Yeosang questioned why they needed a fountain in this room, but it probably had a good reason. The detail on it was immaculate. It had three tiers, each slightly smaller as they went up. The top was decorated with what appeared to be some sort of flower Yeosang recognised from when he washed up on the beach. Water flowed down, making it the only sound in the room. Even more pillars were placed along the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The curtains are a deep blue with what appeared to be stars and constellations on them. The doors once again closed behind them as the guards went back to their post. The Elder sat down on his seat, which Yeosang could only compare to a throne fit for royalty, and folded his hands together in front of him, contemplating on what to do next. Laeanne still held her distance from Maiae, Yeosang standing slightly closer to Laeanne than he would like considering her recent confession. The others simply stared at the Elder as he got up again and started to pace back and forth. “Why is it always you Maiae?” he mumbled, walking off to the side for a minute. He knew he had to ask for the reason for their visit, but he wanted one more moment of peace before he began the never-ending discussion with the all too familiar woman and her friends.

Meanwhile Yeosang walked closer to his saviour. “That is the Elder?” he asked. “He looks so young; I expected an old man to be quite frank.” Maiae turned her head to him and laughed. “He is young, but also very wise. That is why he the Elder.” She explained to him. “That why he think he also very amazing.” She made a gesture with her hands that made Yeosang laugh, something he did not recall doing ever since he arrived in Maelynne. The Elder stopped walking and spun around as he heard the two speak, his robe and the wide sleeves twirling along with his spin. “Why are you two speaking in one of the languages of Ophyrion?” he questioned them. He quickly marched over to them and grabbed Maiae’s arm, something he had never done before. Laeanne, Yeosang and Maiae froze in fear. He might have been angry at her often, but in his mind, if she really brought someone from Ophyrion here, she broke one of the most sacred rules. “Ow, you are hurting me Seonghwa.” She said and tried to get her arm out of his grip. “Do NOT call me that!” he boomed. “Tell me, why are you speaking that language?!” He looked down on her smaller frame, seeing the fear in her eyes. He had given her many preaches, but he had never turned physical, shocking Maiae. “Stop! You are hurting her!” Yeosang stepped forward to protect her, the way she had protected him. “I did not ask you anything.” Seonghwa said as he kept his gaze fixed on Maiae, but a magical force pushed Yeosang against the wall as the Elder swung his arm. Yeosang groaned as the force made him lose his breath, the cloak also falling off his head and shoulders. He was surprised the guards had not yet intervened considering the commotion in the room.

“Of all the things you have done Maiae, why did you do this? I cannot keep excusing you for everything you do!” Maiae looked down in shame. “Wait, you keep excusing her?” Laeanne asked. “You really thought she would still be here if me and her mother did not continuously save her? She would be long gone if it were up to anyone else.” Seonghwa said. Laeanne looked at her friend, who suddenly thought the carpet was the most interesting thing in the room, and then at Yeosang, who slowly got up again, afraid of what else the Elder was capable of. “Maiae, why are you so irresponsible?” Laeanne asked. “I just want to do what is right. You know I could not let him die!” Yeosang looked on from the side, unsure of what he should do. He wanted to help Maiae, but knew he was no match for the Elder. “Maiae, what is going on?” the Elder said, gripping her arm even tighter. “I will tell you, just please let my arm go.” She bargained with him. “Seonghwa, please.” Maiae pleaded again. Somehow Yeosang managed to find a burst of courage and walked up to the two, “Let her go!” he shouted as he gripped the Elder’s shoulder and spun him around, making him loosen his grip on Maiae’s arm enough for her to pull back. Laeanne, Maiae and the Elder looked at him in shock that he had dared to touch Seonghwa and spoke their language. The former two knew he could understand more and more of their language, but speaking a full sentence was new. Seonghwa looked at him in anger before turning back to Maiae. “You taught him our language?” he questioned. “No, I did not. Can we please just explain instead of you getting mad at me?” Maiae sighed and looked down again, the usual confidence she had in front of him slowly dripping away. Seonghwa turned around and walked back to his seat. “Go on, explain.” He spoke.

“Believe it or not, but it only started yesterday, when me and Laeanne were at the beach…” Maiae thought back to when she found Yeosang, how she saw his last breath leave his body, the fear she had when he did not immediately react to her attempt to bring him back. “The light was there, and you know how wanted items from Ophyrion are. So, I wanted to see if I could find any…” She started explaining. “Instead of items, I found him, Yeosang, in the water.” Laeanne looked at her friend, knowing she would have to step in eventually because Maiae was sure to leave out certain details. “I pulled him out of the water and brought him to land, I could not let him drown!” She argued, looking back at Seonghwa’s intense stare, which was giving Yeosang and Laeanne chills. “After that I took him to my house, and this morning, he suddenly knew some words in our language and thus we came here.” The quartermaster just nodded along to whatever his saviour said, still not understanding everything. “Is that what happened?” the Elder asked as he looked at Laeanne. She looked at her friend with pity, but she knew she could not keep the important details behind from someone of his stature. “Well, yeah, most of it. There is one key detail she missed though.” Maiae looked at her friend and shook her head, pleading with her not to tell him. “And what is that detail?” Seonghwa said as he leaned his elbow on his knee and leaned forward with interest. “She used the spell of Ysdohr.” Maiae quickly looked away. Seonghwa stood up, once again filled with anger. “You did what?!” he looked at the woman, who felt smaller than ever. “In the name of Nahthys, why did you do that?!” He shook his head, desperately trying to refrain himself from harming her. He is the Elder, he is supposed to be composed and wise, not let his emotions rule him. “Like I said, I could not let him die.” Seonghwa sighed, something he often did when Maiae was in his presence. He always felt as if he had aged at least ten years whenever she left the room.

Yeosang looked between the three before stepping forward; “I only understood parts of what was just discussed. However, I just wanted to say that Maiae saved my life, offered me shelter, she has been nothing but good to me.” He started. Maiae and Laeanne looked slightly confused, feeling the same way Yeosang felt whenever they spoke their language. Seonghwa, however, looked at the smaller man in front of him with interest, slightly squinting to examine everything he might need to know. “Where I am from, we hear nothing but terrifying stories about people from Aribyrne. Yet Maiae proved me the opposite. I do not know how everyone is, nevertheless, I trust her with my life.”

As Yeosang was speaking and gesturing, something caught the Elder’s eyes. Seonghwa stood up once again and walked towards Yeosang, making him back away a little. “Do not walk away.” The Elder said with an authoritative tone. The shorter man gulped as he halted his movements. Laeanne looked at them with a slight disinterest. Maiae, however, was on high alert to protect Yeosang if necessary. Seonghwa stopped in front of him and held his hand open for Yeosang. “Your arm, now.” Yeosang looked at Maiae, asking her what he should do with his eyes. Yet Maiae could do nothing but shrug and shake her head, as she had no idea what the Elder was doing. “Seonghwa, what are you doing?” Laeanne slapped her friend’s shoulder, “Stop addressing him informally, it is rude.” She sternly whispered. “I said, your arm.” He repeated himself, ignoring the other two. Slowly Yeosang placed his left arm in Seonghwa’s hand. The latter suddenly pushed up the sleeves of Yeosang’s shirt, revealing swirls and patterns similar to those of Maiae. The two women gasped as they saw his arm, shocked at his transformation, if they had to call it something.

The Elder turned the other man’s arm several ways, inspecting the patterns from multiple angles. “Since when do you have these?” he asked. Yeosang looked at him, not sure what to answer. In the end he simply opted to tell the truth. “I saw them on my chest this morning, the ones on my arm are new.” A silence fell among the group. “How do you speak my language so well?” Yeosang broke the silence. Even though Maiae and Laeanne spoke it a little, the man in front of him appeared to be as fluent as himself. “I studied it intensely.” He gave a short answer. “I did not know about this,” Maiae suddenly said, “why you not tell me?” she asked Yeosang. “I was scared. We were already going there, and I thought it might make it worse…” he drifted off. Maiae felt slightly betrayed, she understood where he came from, but she had done nothing to make him question her. She sighed. Seonghwa let go of the other man’s arm and walked back to face all three of them. “I have never seen anything like this, people from Ophyrion are not supposed to survive the crossing, nor are they supposed to partially understand our language or start to look like us.” He rubbed his temples, contemplating what the best course of action is. “I am sorry, Maiae, but I have no choice.” He said with sympathy in his eyes. “Please do not, you know what she said last time…” She argued. “I am going to have to bring the Elder of Lislea into this.” Yeosang questioningly looked at the shocked face of Laeanne, while Seonghwa looked disappointed and Maiae looked… afraid?

“Who is the Elder of Lislea?” Yeosang asked. The Elder of Maelynne looked at him and sighed. “The Elder of Lislea is someone who is above me, she has more authority than I do, as she keeps track of a larger area.” He started explaining. “Whereas I keep track of what is going on in Maelynne, she does it for the entire isle of Lislea.” At this moment, the quartermaster was glad that the man in front of him spoke his language fluently, as he had no idea how Maiae would have told him this, despite all her efforts. “She also is Maiae’s mother.” Seonghwa ended. “I will contact her today, leave and come back tomorrow so we can solve this.” He told the two friends and dismissed them with a short wave of his hand, the doors magically opening again. Laeanne, Maiae and Yeosang looked at each other in silence. “I said leave!” The Elder said as he felt a headache coming up. The quartermaster quickly ran to the side to pick up his cloak and regrouped with the other two. “Come on.” Maiae said in a defeated tone and grabbed his arm, Laeanne following them out, as the doors closed behind them once more.

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Maiae, Yeosang and Laeanne stood in the hallway once more, leaving Seonghwa with his head full of thoughts. “That sounded like it went well.” Branimyr spoke. “Please do not mention it,” Laeanne said with a roll of her eyes and a sigh. Maiae looked at her arm with a sad and confused expression, Seonghwa’s grip had left a very visible mark. She was still confused that he could do something like that, he was supposed to always stay composed. And he always did whenever Maiae tried to get on his nerves, she finally found his breaking point apparently. Yeosang’s hand on her shoulder brought her back from her trance. “Are you okay?” He questioned her. “Yeah, fine.” She acknowledged his question but nothing more than that. “Let us go home.” She said to her companions and started walking away, not even waiting on their reply.

“Come Yeosang,” Laeanne said to the man who appeared to be frozen in place. He looked down at the ground, feeling bad that he somehow managed to get into this mess and drag others with him. He wordlessly left the guards behind him as he followed the two women down the hallway they came in not even 15 minutes ago. He draped the cloak he was still carrying in his arms over his shoulders again, pulling the hood up to cover his face. Maiae glanced behind her to see that the other two were following. The atmosphere among them was tense, all of them afraid that one wrong word might set off a bomb between them. As they neared the entrance once more, Maiae stopped. “Laeanne, you go out alone. It is best that the others no longer see you with me. I do not want you to be any more involved in this than you already are.” Yeosang stopped a little further away from Maiae while Laeanne walked up next to her. “Are you sure of this? You know they will probably yell at you again.”

Laeanne recalled the last time she happened to walk by as Maiae exited the building in the middle of town. A small group of people had gathered outside and were chanting for Maiae to be evicted from the village as she brought nothing but trouble. Although she had never done anything truly bad, she did break the rules to do good and that somehow still bothered certain people. “I will handle it, do not worry. I will simply focus on protecting Yeosang.” The man looked at the two as he heard them mention his name. Laeanne sighed and rubbed Maiae’s back. She knew her friend was mad at her, but she would also never put her in harm’s way. “If that is what you think is best. I will be back tomorrow to go with you though.” She comforted Maiae. “No. This is between me and my mother, you should not get involved.” She said and took a step back, away from her friend. One step soon became multiple as she ended up next to Yeosang, waiting for her friend to exit without too much drama, which she did after one final sympathetic glance their way.

Maiae sighed, her shoulders slouching as the final bits of adrenaline that were coursing through her veins slowly faded. The only thing she truly wanted to do was to make herself as small as possible and cry. Yet she knew she had to be strong for Yeosang at this moment, she did not know why but she merely had the feeling she needed to protect him. The man in question did not know what to do at this moment. Although he understood about a quarter of what was said this time, he stood around cluelessly. He wanted to comfort Maiae, but would she appreciate it? Maybe later would be better? “Come on. Stay close to me.” She said to him and wrapped her left arm around his right, slowly taking steps towards the door to avoid the inevitable for as long as possible.

“Maiae,” Yeosang did not move, making Maiae halt as well, tumbling a little as it was unexpected. “We will be alright, okay? Do not worry.” She looked up at the taller man and gave him a forced smile, nothing more, nothing less. “Come.” She said and started walking again, opening the door with her free hand, while Yeosang put his head down, ready to hide from the crowd outside. As the door opened and the two stepped outside, Maiae was glad to see only a small crowd of five people had gathered.

“When will you leave Maiae?” “You only bring trouble here!” “The only reason why you are still allowed to be here is because of your mother!” were just a few of the things the five villagers shouted at her. Maiae fastened her pace, dragging Yeosang with her. The small group followed them, but not at the same speed as them. It was clear they mostly wanted to scare her, leaving them behind would be easy. Yeosang, however, suddenly stopped and took a breath. It was clear he was about to say something to them. “Yeosang, no, come on!” Maiae whisper-yelled and tried to pull him along as the group slowly started to catch up to them again. “But Maiae,” he started. “No but just go! Not safe!” She gave a sudden tug on his arm, making him slightly lose balance and tumble towards her. He glanced at the group from under the hood of his cloak. How badly he wanted to tell them off, nonetheless, doing what Maiae said seemed to be the more rational option in his mind. Thus, they continued their walk to Maiae’s house. “Yeah, just run away. Run away from Maelynne!” they heard before the group appeared to give up.

The trees appeared to be less bright than they were on their way to the Elder. As if some sort of darkness had crept over Yeosang’s eyes or Maelynne as a whole. Maiae kept dragging the man with her, not giving him a chance to stop them again or even worse, go after the men. They reached her house far too quickly for his liking, he secretly wanted to explore more of Maelynne, and Aribyrne as a whole. As soon as Maiae closed the door behind them, he pulled down the hood of the cloak, before taking it off and draping it over the back of the couch he occupied in the morning. When he turned back around, ready to face the woman who had taken him in so kindly, she was nowhere to be seen, only the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut echoing through the small house.

Maiae quickly walked over to her bedroom window, closing the curtains, cloaking the room in darkness. The moment she closed the curtains she dropped to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest, hiding her face on top of them. Soft sobs bounced off the walls, expelling the silence out of the room.

Yeosang slowly walked to her bedroom door, unsure of what to do. Should he comfort her? Give her some space? He sat down with his back against the door, throwing his head back without hurting himself too much. A sigh left his lips, his hands resting on his stretched-out legs. Maiae’s soft sobs reached his hearing, making his heart ache. He had this indescribable urge to protect her, making sure nothing would harm her. After listening to her cry for a few minutes he decided to get up and knock on the door. “Maiae,” he spoke, “is everything okay?” He knew she was not okay, but he had no idea how to start the conversation. Was it even normal for the people here to talk about their feelings and troubles? He heard a rustling sound coming from inside the room, thinking Maiae might open the door for him. Instead, she quickly wiped away her tears. “Go away Yeosang, please.” She said through the closed door. “I am not leaving.” He surprised himself by speaking her language once more. “I’m coming in.” He waited half a minute before opening the door, his reasoning being to give her some time to get ready in case she was not decent.

Turning the knob, he entered her room. Yeosang’s eyes gazed across the room, looking for Maiae’s figure. The walls of the room were a similar shade of deep red as those in his room. However, the curtains were cream coloured, compared to the dark green ones in his room.

Yeosang quickly spotted her sitting below the closed curtains, some light still seeping into the room through the small gap between them. He walked over to her and sat down, taking Maiae into his arms before placing his head on top of hers. “It is okay, we will get through this.” He spoke. Maiae suddenly grasped the front of his shirt before softly crying again. He slowly rubbed up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her even slightly. “I do not want to see her. She warned me, if she ever had to come to my rescue again, there would be major consequences.” Maiae hiccupped as Yeosang stayed silent. He understood most of what she said, but also wanted to give her the opportunity to add something else. “I am scared.” She whispered, Yeosang almost missing the words that left her mouth. Of course, he was scared as well, not having a clue who they were going to face tomorrow.

He just wrapped her tighter in his arms, hoping to offer her some more comfort and safety. “I am here for you.” He whispered. They both stayed silent and did not move. Yeosang did not want to push her into talking about what scares her so much about her mother.

Shortly after Maiae’s tears were reduced to mere sniffles. “Thank you.” She softly spoke. Maiae was glad he did not push her to talk, but just comforted her in silence. “You will be okay, do not worry.” He replied, softly running his hand over the top of her head before wiping away a few stray tears. She looked up at him, the whole thing reminding Yeosang of a few cliché romantic plays he had seen back in Ophyrion. At moments like this the actors would kiss, but he was being honest to himself and it simply felt wrong. He opted to give her a quick peck on her forehead.

He slowly let go of her, making sure she no longer fully leaned on him. After standing up, he reached his hand out for her to grab, pulling her up as Maiae put her hand in his. “How is your arm? Does it still hurt?” Maiae looked at her arm and turned it a couple of times, inspecting the slightly bruised skin. “It is okay. I know Seonghwa did not intend to hurt me.” She tried to reply in his language as much as she could. “He made mistake.” Yeosang grabbed her arm and looked at the greenish skin himself. “It does not look like a mistake. He hurt you. I will protect you from him the same way you protect me.” The floor suddenly held a massive amount of interest to Maiae. “Really, it okay.” He sensed Maiae hiding something from him, yet he did not want to push her due to what happened earlier. “Maiae, you can tell me anything.” Yeosang gently said, making her look up at him.

They stared into each others’ eyes for a few seconds before Yeosang broke the silence, knowing he was not going to get a reply from her. “Come, I will make you some food.” He walked out of her bedroom and into the kitchen, looking behind him once every couple of meters to make sure she was still following him. “What food you want to make?” Maiae asked as she sat down on one of the chairs by the dining table, still rubbing her eyes once in a while, giving them a red tint. Yeosang looked up from staring at the counter, the setting sun visible through the window. “Uhm, I- “, he fell silent, rubbing the back of his neck. He briefly forgot that he was not familiar with the food of this realm. Maiae sniffled and stood up, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Sit, I will make you food.”

She once again grabbed a bunch of produce extremely foreign to Yeosang. Some of them resemble food from Ophyrion, but in a different colour, whereas others were just completely different. However, just like the first night, it smelled amazing. Maiae was cutting stuff left and right, throwing some in a flat pan, while others went into what Yeosang assumed to be an oven. They mostly sat in silence, only the sounds of cooking present in the room. The quartermaster got up from the chair and walked over to see what was in the cabinets. Before he opened the first cabinet he stopped, turning to the woman cooking their meal. “Maiae, can I look around?” She briefly glanced at him, humming and nodding in agreement. She figured he must still be very curious, being in an unknown realm.

Most of the cabinets were filled with things such as plates, cups, and bowls; some with food and some with what appeared to be drinks. Nothing really spiked Yeosang’s interest until he reached a cabinet with what appeared to be spices and herbs. He took out a few, intrigued by their colours, smelling a few. Maiae quickly looked over her shoulder once every few minutes to see what the man was up to. She thought it was kind of endearing how everything was so new to him and how eager he was to explore.

A slight panic ran through her as she saw him reach for the paclogano. It was a semi-rare spice and Maiae loved cooking with it, however, she was also slightly allergic to it. It was a rare allergy; yet her mother had the same. “Careful!” she said as Yeosang opened the little pot to smell it. She did not mind this, but if some of it got near her, she would have a sneezing fit for at least five minutes. As the man smelled it, he also quickly pushed it away from him, making a weird face, before he started sneezing. “Oh no,” Maiae said before turning off the fire and walking over to him. She carefully closed the lid to make sure no more of the spice managed to escape into the air and make her a sneezing mess as well. She guided Yeosang back to the chair and sat him down. “I cannot believe you are allergic to paclogano as well.” She mumbled, quickly walking over to the living room.

Scanning the cabinet filled with books, she quickly found what she was looking for. Grabbing the little pot, she walked back to Yeosang who was still sneezing in the kitchen, putting the item in front of him. She turned around and grabbed a small spoon from one of the drawers under the counter. Maiae opened the pot and put some of the blue liquid in it on the spoon, before turning back to the man next to her. “Open mouth.” She said and brought the spoon closer to his mouth. One more sneeze escaped Yeosang before he could stop sneezing long enough for Maiae to put the spoon in his mouth.

Mere seconds later, the sneezing miraculously stopped. “What was that?” Yeosang asked, catching his breath from all the sneezing. “It is, uhm, allergy?” She looked at him with a tilted head. “Allergy?” he repeated to her. A few moments of deep thinking later the word finally came back to Maiae. “Allergy!” she exclaimed. “I have same.” She said with a smile. A look of realisation came over the man. He did not know he could also be allergic to things in another realm, although it made perfect sense. “Very tasty, but not very nice with allergy.”

As Maiae went back to finishing their meal, his worries about the day that was to come only became greater. He was deeply lost in thought, so when Maiae put his food down in front of him, he got a slight scare. “You okay?” she asked worriedly. “Yes, I was lost in thought.”

They both ate in silence once again, both of them occupied with the events that were to come the next day. “Maiae, what is your mother like?” Yeosang broke the silence, slowly getting used to speaking more of the local language. “She is very strong and intimidating, but also very sweet. I, uhm, diss- disap-,” Maiae stuttered. “Disappointed.” The man sitting across from her helped her, giving her a smile. “Yes, I disappoint her many times.” She looked down at her plate, playing with what little food was left on it. “What about your mother?” Maiae returned the question. Yeosang put his head down to look at his empty place, a feeling of sadness suddenly filling the room. “I never knew her. My father told me she is very special. She is the reason why I have become a quartermaster. It was my goal to find her, but now I am here, in Aribyrne.”. Maiae looked at him with sympathy in her eyes.

She was very familiar with growing up with only one parent. However, she could not imagine growing up without her mother, Anhaern has shaped Maiae to be the person she is today.

“Sorry.” She whispered before getting up and gathering the plates. A silence fell between the two again. As Maiae put the plates into the sink, a realisation dawned on her. She grabbed Yeosang’s arm, making him stand up before dragging him to the living room. “What are you-?” Maiae cut him off, “I have idea! Still early, so…” She pushed him down on the couch and turned around to face the wall covered in books, searching for seemingly one specific book. “I am going to teach you about Aribyrne!” Maiae grabbed the book she was looking for and sat down next to Yeosang, who was amazed by the different characters in the book. He had a feeling this would be a long night, yet as he was probably going to be stuck in this realm for a while, he might as well learn something about it.

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The night passed by too quickly and before Yeosang knew it, he was standing in front of the two massive doors to the Elder’s room again. During the night he started showing even more changes; more swirls appeared on his neck and his ears grew slightly pointier. Maiae continuously looked at him with a mix of sympathy and fear. Looking to his right, Yeosang saw even more fear in her eyes than before. He was thankful that she had taught him more about Aribyrne and its laws. That way he felt as if he might have at least some knowledge of what was supposed to come. The quartermaster was very much intrigued by their writing system as well, and would love to learn more about it if time and Maiae’s mother allowed it.

The heavy doors opened again, the two guards on the sides not the same as yesterday. “Are you ready?” Maiae asked the man standing next to her. “As ready as I will ever be” he replied.

They walked into the room side by side, Maiae’s mother, Anhaern, sat on Seonghwa’s throne with him standing beside her. Her robe was even more intricate than Seonghwa’s, the bordeaux-red complimenting his emerald green one. The golden swirls and patterns went further up the sleeves and bottom of the robe, indicating her higher position in the hierarchy. Her auburn hair fell over her shoulders, hiding its actual length.

Yeosang and Maiae’s footsteps were the only sound in the room until they came to a halt in front of them. Maiae knelt down for the two Elders, gesturing for Yeosang to do the same. As he bent down, he briefly made eye contact with the Elder of Lislea, who appeared to be surprised to see him, seemingly just as intrigued by the man’s birthmark as Maiae was when she first met him. “Mother, Seonghwa.” Maiae said as she looked up at the two Elders in front of her. Seonghwa gave her a stern look for addressing him informally in front of the Elder of Lislea, making her look down again. “You may rise.” Anhaern said, Yeosang and Maiae standing up again. “Seonghwa has informed me of what had happened, but I would still like to hear your sides.” Anhaern spoke.

Yeosang decided he would simply let Maiae do most of the talking for it was her mother and he still didn’t master their language. She started recalling all of the events that had led up to this moment, not leaving any details out like she did the first time when speaking to just Seonghwa. “Did she leave anything out or is her story the same as yesterday?” Anhaern asked. “No, the exact same things were shared between us and Laeanne. However,” he answered, “he is displaying more traits of Aribyrne than he was yesterday. I would almost describe it as if he is evolving.”

Maiae could feel the nerves radiate from Yeosang. The Ophirian stories about Aribyrne were still present in the back of his mind, even though Maiae proved she would never harm him. Seonghwa, however, was the person he was wary of. He clearly displayed he was not above physical harm the other day, whether he meant it or not. Anhaern looked at the two people standing in front of her before sighing, making her daughter look down in shame. “Please, do not do anything to her.” Yeosang broke the silence. “She did nothing but help me. I know I might not be able to return home. So Maiae is teaching me about the way life is here”, he continued. “Even if I was to return home, I would have nobody to go home to. The crew I was a part of, my friends, family, they have all passed on. I do not know where my mother is and I promised my father I would find her and my sister, as it was his dying wish.” A few stray tears rolled down Yeosang’s cheeks.

Maiae looked up at him and took his hand closest to her into both hands. “It is okay,” she started trying to comfort him, before looking off in the distance, seemingly focussing on one of the many pillars in the room. “Please do not punish her for any of this,” he ended his statement. Seonghwa gave the man a look of pity, knowing Maiae had broken one too many sacred rules this time. She could be forgiven for most of it, except for using the spell of Ysdohr. That type of spell was only allowed on people of their own realm; not Ophyrion or any other.

The Elder of Lislae looked troubled; she wanted to scold Maiae, but knew that deep down she could not. There was more at play here than the other three in the room knew. “Seonghwa, would you mind leaving the room for a minute?” Anhaern asked. He looked at her in surprise, before nodding and leaving.

Anhaern stood up, her red robe dragging across the green carpet, and walked towards the two youngsters in front of her. Yeosang was taller than her, not by a lot, but the difference still made her lift her head to look him in the eyes. “Yeosang,” she said, lifting her hands and putting them on his cheek, gently rubbing circles with her thumb. “I have missed you so much.” She exclaimed and wrapped her arms around him. The action made both the man and Maiae freeze. “Mother, what are you talking about?” Maiae asked in surprise. Anhaern let go of Yeosang and sighed. "Maiae, it is time that you learn the truth.” she gulped. Maiae had never seen her mother this nervous, even Yeosang could see that this woman who was radiating with confidence when they entered now looked small. “Yeosang is your brother, Maiae.” she quietly said. Maiae and Yeosang stood in shock, trying to process what they just heard. "Wha- How? Mother, we cannot-” Maiae started. "Let me explain it,” Anhaern started. She took a deep breath, the memories of the time she tried to put away deep in her mind finding their way out again.

______________________________________________________________

It was a warm summer evening in Ophirion; a young Anhaern had just travelled from Aribyrne to this realm. She was not in Ophirion for her own enjoyment, but for study purposes; wanting to know more about several realms. She did not know that this knowledge would eventually result in her becoming the Elder of Maelynne and later even the Elder of Lislae; two things she could never have dreamed of becoming. She could also have never imagined meeting the love of her life in this realm.

Anhaern crossed the beach, enjoying the shade of several palm trees, currently researching the different types of shells washed up on the shore. As she looked up she saw a ship in the distance, not thinking too much of it, simply opting to make a mental note to stay clear of its crew. Before she knew it, she became too engrossed in her research; sitting down in the sand with a collection of shells in front of her. The roughness of the sand slightly digging into her legs as the soft breeze made her hair sway.

In the distance a man saw a figure on the beach and as he neared, he saw the collection of shells in front of the woman. He picked up an oyster shell nearby and held it behind his back. Walking closer to her, the sand crunching under his shoes, she looked both beautiful and terrifying to him; the delicate swirls on her skin, her ears slightly pointy. His gasp startled her. “I- uhm, I found this shell and I thought you would like it.” he stumbled over his words, his mind filled with thoughts about where she could possibly come from. Bringing his hands forward, he showed her the oyster shell. "Thank you.” she softly spoke in his language, weary of his intentions. She carefully took the shell from his hands. He could not keep his eyes off of her sitting down next to her, he was intrigued by her. "My name is Cyran.” he introduced himself. “I am Anhaern.” she replied, the two of them getting lost in each other's eyes.

The next memory that flashed through Anhaern's mind was of her standing in front of the then-Elder. “You cannot continue this relationship with him, Anhaern. You are from different worlds, it would never work.” the deep voice said. “It is not worth it to break the law for an Ophirian.” She looked down, both in embarrassment and in respect for her Elder. “But-” she started. "There is no worth in trying to start an argument.” he said and turned around before walking away from her. Anhaern felt lost; she knew she was with child, she knew she had broken one of the most sacred rules of Nahthys . She travelled back to Ophirion and told Cyran about the decisions that had been made. He was devastated, he wanted to be together with her; raise their child together. Yet he could not travel to Aribyrne, and even if he could, the Elders would never allow it. And she could not stay in Ophirion because of her duties back in Aribyrne.

However, what neither of them expected was that she was going to give birth to twins, in Ophirion. Their eyes were filled with tears of joy, looking at their little bundles of joy. “I cannot believe it,” Anhaern spoke as she held the little girl. "Neither can I.” her beloved spoke as he held a little boy. "They are beautiful.” she whispered. “Our little Yeosang and Maiae...” Cyran whispered. The two sat together in silence, admiring their babies, knowing their peace will be broken soon. The small living quarters belonging to Cyran had never felt this warm, this full of love before. The barren room nothing compared to Anhaern's home, yet it was all she wanted in this moment. The soft crackling of the fireplace warming the cold, evening sea breeze. The old brown couch suddenly felt too small for the four of them.

It only took the then-Elders an hour to find Anhaern in Ophirion. “Anhaern, you have to come back.” the then-Elder of Lislae said. “Please, just five more minutes.” she whispered back. Cyran had never heard her speak in her own language and wanted to ask her many questions, yet all he did was hold her and their children tighter as the then-Elders looked at them. “The one you are holding can come with us, the other one has to stay here. He is not Aribyrne worthy.” he said, referring to the boy's birthmark. The then-Elders gently grabbed her arms and lifted her up from her lover's embrace. "No, no, no.” she spoke, her voice gradually getting louder. Cyran tried to stop them, but his movements were limited with the little boy in his arms. Before he knew it, they had travelled back to their own realm, his only reminder of her being the baby boy. “I will tell you about them, little Yeosang, and one day, you will meet them,” he promised.

______________________________________________________________

Anhaern was fiddling with the oyster shell on her necklace as she told her children about how she and their father had met. Maiae was shocked to hear she was half Ophirian, whereas Yeosang was shocked, but not fully surprised to hear he was half Aribyrnian. "So, the room at home, it was meant for him?” she looked up at her mother. "Yes, I had you prepare it in case he would somehow ever wander into this realm.” she explained. “I knew the odds were slim, especially because he is not fully Aribyrnian. You almost passed when I brought him to Aribyrne. I was so afraid to let you travel again, let alone bring him here without any practise of Aribyrnian powers. But Maiae, ever since I had first seen you travel between realms as a teen, I knew it was a possibility, albeit a minute one.”

Maiae suddenly turned to Yeosang and engulfed him in a hug. “I cannot believe you are my lost brother. I thought I would never see him-” she paused, “see you again.” Yeosang slowly hugged her back, still processing everything. The circular room suddenly felt much bigger, the constellations on the curtains almost appear to be shining, yet at the same time it felt as if all the air had escaped from the room. He lost his father several years ago, he sailed the seas to find his mother and sister. Now he had finally found them, even though it was in a different realm. “But why did you return me to Ophirion after I was born?” he asked as he let go of Maiae, speaking with a hint of hurt in his voice. “To be frank with you, I never thought I would have you both. I did not even know I could be with child with an Opherian. But when I had you both, oh my Nahthys, you were the most beautiful babies I had ever seen. However, I did not actually bring you back to Ophirion, the Elders brought me and Maiae back to Aribyrne, deeming you to be imperfect. All because of your birthmark.” Anhaern said with disgust, looking down at her robe. “You two are a symbol of love between beings of two different realms. I could not leave him without a piece of me, the same way that you, Maiae, were a piece of him.” Maiae's thoughts were running through her mind at a speed even she thought to be impossible. "So,” she started, “were you this strict with me to redeem yourself? To show the Elders that you had mend your way, or was it to protect me because I am half Ophirian?”

Maiae had always felt sheltered, raised by stricter standards than other children her age, this would finally explain it all. “It was a bit of both to be honest with you. I did not know how much of an effect the Ophirian half of you would have on everything. However, I am so proud of the woman you have become; so strong and independent, not afraid to stand up for your own beliefs and values.” Anhaern said as she walked to her daughter and grabbed her hands. "Your powers continue to grow each day, not many people can master the spell of Ysdohr.” Looking at Yeosang, she continued to speak: “I am so happy to see you together here.” she smiled with tears welling up in her eyes.

A sudden knock on the door gained their attention. "Come in.” Anhaern spoke as she stepped back from her two reunited children, walking back towards Seonghwa's chair and sitting down. As the door opened, Seonghwa walked in. "My apologies for interrupting,” he started as he kneeled to Anhaern. "But I do have other matters to attend to today as well.” he said as he rose up again, walking towards the Elder of Lislae. She smiled at Seonghwa as a weight was lifted from her shoulders. "Why of course, Seonghwa. My apologies for taking this long.” He smiled back at her, “I do not mind, it was I who requested your visit after all. I wish I could give you all the time in the realm.”

As he stood next to her, he looked at the two troublemakers in front of him. "May I ask what the conclusion is?” Maiae nervously rubbed her arm, nervous of what her mother was going to say. “Maiae shall not be punished and Yeosang is allowed to stay.” she said as she got up from the chair. The Elder of Maelynne looked at his Elder in surprise. “May I-” he started. “Maiae will most likely tell you everything during one of your 'secret’ rendezvous.” Anhaern walked towards the door, ready to go back to her own duties; Maiae and Seonghwa looking at her in shock. “Mother, how do you-” Maiae spoke before she was interrupted. “I know of everything that goes on within these walls, dear” she said to her gulping daughter. “Do not ever think of hurting her Seonghwa…” she threatened. Anhaern made a brief stop in front of Yeosang, grabbing his hands. “If you have any questions, you are free to contact me whenever you feel like. Maiae can tell you how to reach me." She spoke in his language so she was sure he understood. She let go of his hands and continued to leave the room.

Yeosang and Maiae looked at Seonghwa standing in front of them, waiting for him to dismiss them. Yeosang opened his mouth to start speaking, but the Elder beat him to it. “Maiae, you are to take him back to your home and teach him about this realm.” he said as he regained his posture. “And we will talk about this later.” he spoke in a softer voice gesturing between himself and Maiae. "Yes, Seonghwa.” Maiae replied. Yeosang took a step forward towards Seonghwa. "Thank you, for allowing me to stay here,” he started. “I know this is all very unconventional. I still do not even know how I am mastering your language, but I promise I will not do anything to disappoint you or the inhabitants of Aribyrne.” The Elder gave him a small smile and nod in approval. “Let us go home,” Maiae said and put her hand on Yeosang's shoulder. The two walked out of the heavy, wooden doors; a small smile graving Maiae's face, knowing things are going to be alright.

#ateez au #yeosang au #ateez fantasy au #yeosang fantasy au #ateez #yeosang #kang yeosang #ateez scenario #yeosang scenario #ateez x oc #yeosang x oc

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sunmoonjune · 10 months ago

Text

spring tides [like the moon universe]

pairing: poly!ot8 ateez x fem!oc!reader

warnings: vague mentions of eating disorder, death and torture, scars, ptsd, very fluffy! a lot of comfort! not so dark this time xD I did not proofread this :D

word count: 14.1k

a/n: hello y'all :D I have returned with some LTM for you <;3 This is a oneshot for my like the moon universe! You don't necessarily need to read the series to understand this fic but it definitely helps the immersion and understanding some of the plot points! you can find all chapters of ltm on my masterlist <3

Seonghwa remembers something in the spring of your third year with Ateez. As he watches you at Jongho’s side, silently offering the guard slices of fruit as he cleans his claymore, Seonghwa recalls that he doesn’t know when your birthday is.

Jongho is murmuring something about the design of his blade and the engraving along the handle when Seonghwa stands abruptly. The eldest shifts on his feet, brows furrowed and teeth worrying his bottom lip. His lips purse when Jongho questions him.

“Hwa?”

The red-haired guard looks up at his partner with a lilt of concern in his voice, hands halting their motion on his blade. Jongho’s dark eyes glint as the fading sun catches the hickory color of his irises.

“Is there something wrong?” Jongho continues, already shifting to stand to his feet. “Are you alright?”

You rock on your feet, legs stretching as you prepare to stand with Jongho. Your eyes flicker across camp, scanning for whatever has caught Seonghwa’s attention. There’s two swords still strapped to your back and you can nearly feel the cool metal pressing into your skin – a haunting reminder of the terrible things you’ve done with them. The buzz beneath your skin itches with the beginnings of adrenaline, already prepared to stand and defend the two Ateez members at your sides.

Seonghwa lifts his hands and shakes his head to soothe you and Jongho before you can stand. He softly waves his hands to encourage you to sit back onto the carved log beneath you, a wary smile on his lips.

“No, it’s nothing,” he murmurs, still gnawing at his lip as he finishes. He offers a barely concealed sigh and shakes his head again. “‘M alright, just remembered something.”

Jongho doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but he settles back onto the floor regardless. His hands return to wiping down his claymore but he doesn’t look away from his partner.

You share the sentiment, continuing to watch Seonghwa and making note of each creak and scratch that echoes through the camp. You don’t know what startled him, but you’ll be prepared for the next time. The fruit in your hands has made your fingers sticky in the brief moments you spent looking up at Seonghwa rather than cutting the supple treat.

You don’t mind though. You like slicing fruit for Jongho. He doesn’t eat enough, you’ve noticed. You’re not quite sure why, but you suppose you don’t quite know how to ask. No matter the reason, it brings you comfort when he continues to take slices of succulent fruit from you as he cleans. He doesn’t look up, simply trusting you to place the pieces into his hands so he can eat without trouble. When you sat beside him that morning with the fruit in your hands, Jongho raised an eyebrow but didn’t mention it. You ate the first few slices before offering them to the wine-haired guard, who accepted them with a small smile. Every so often, he turns slightly, ensuring that you’re continuing to eat as much as he does.

At one point he tilts his head back, looking up at you with those pretty, boba pearl eyes and opens his mouth slightly. Both his hands are occupied, busy with the intricate care his blade necessitates. With your heart thumping quickly in your chest, you place a slice of fruit on Jongho’s waiting lips and try desperately not to linger on the thought of how full and supple they are.

“Thanks, love,” he murmurs without looking at you, the words sweet and saccharine in the low timber of his voice.

Seonghwa laughed when Jongho’s cheeks pinkened after that, but you weren’t really sure why.

Turning his attention to you, Seonghwa looks down at your figure. Sitting with a slight slump in your shoulders, the spymaster smiles faintly. Slouched posture is a good sign, he muses. You’re comfortable.

When you tilt your head to the side, silently questioning Seonghwa’s thoughts, you reach up to gingerly grasp his fingers. There’s no hesitation. There hasn’t been in a long while. Seonghwa extends his hand in offering when he notices your appendages twitch. His warmth sinks into your palm and you nearly hum at the soothing feeling.

You squeeze his hand twice before lingering for a longer third.

‘Are you okay?’ you silently question.

Seonghwa’s lips quirk into another gentle smile, but his eyes are distant. It makes your heart tug painfully. The hickory of his near-black irises is muted. You miss the glimmer of those sweet, dark eyes that show when he smiles.

“Yeah, m’alright, lovebug.”

Your heart slams into your ribs – a delighted feeling. Lovebug. You like that.

Seonghwa leans closer to repeat the gesture, squeezing twice and then lingering for an ‘okay.’ His other hand lifts to run over the back of your head with a delicate movement. Fingers carefully scratch against your scalp and you resist the temptation to lean into his hands and exhale softly.

“I have to go see Joong and Yunho, though. I really did just remember something I wanted to speak to ‘em about,” he whispers. Dragging his nails gently over the nape of your neck once more, Seonghwa smiles when you finally lean into his touch with a quiet rumble. He thinks you look positively cat-like. When one set of lashes flutters against your cheek in a tired, pleased expression, Seonghwa could coo at the endearing look. He withholds only to save you the embarrassment of his mother-hen tendencies.

Your one eye flickers over his expression once more before you relent and nod your head just once. Seonghwa’s hand begins to pull away from your head, and this time you do make a tiny sound of sadness. The eldest feels his heart squeeze at your reluctance to be parted from him, leaning close to drag his thumb over the stiff material of your mask with a sweet touch before he stands upright once more.

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay? You and Jongho finish up and join us for dinner soon.”

You let out a short exhale through your nose, a sound they’ve taken to signify your agreement. Jongho’s lips twitch at the noise, trying to hold back the laugh he wants to let out.

“Okay,” you whisper softly beneath your breath as you lean back against the back of the log. Seonghwa smiles and finally shifts his stance to leave, only pressing a gentle kiss to Jongho’s brow before walking off. Your head tilts one last time as Seonghwa leaves, wondering if perhaps one day he’ll kiss your head too when he takes his leave.

The archer finds Yunho before Hongjoong. The tallest of Ateez is easy to collect when Seonghwa gives him a meaningful look. The tension in the eldest’s brow must convince Yunho that there is something important he is needed for because he immediately follows after Seonghwa. The two find themselves in the Captain’s cavern, his and Seonghwa’s really, standing before the long-haired leader with a small frown on the archer’s lips.

Hongjoong mimics the frown, coming to a stand behind the desk currently holding a plethora of worn maps.

“What’s wrong?”

Seonghwa sighs, squeezing his fists together before he turns to face Yunho with a solemn expression.

“When’s her birthday?”

Yunho’s brow quirks at the same time the tension in his shoulders finally loosens a notch. Sighing softly, he licks his lips and answers.

“Tiny’s?”

Seonghwa nods, the expression on his face unchanging: serious and solemn, as if the situation was as grave as a wake. Hongjoong glances between the two men, his brow now lifted in surprise, but he says nothing.

“It’s been three years since she’s been with us,” Seonghwa murmurs tersely. “But we haven’t celebrated her birthday. The first year I could understand missing it – I mean, she was still adjusting to Ateez, and even after that she’s still a little apprehensive. Not that I blame her, of course – I just… It’s been three full years and I can’t believe we’ve missed her birthday at least three times.”

Yunho’s bottom teeth sink into his lip and his eyes suddenly dart towards the floor. He swallows once, shifting on his feet and sighs as he ponders how to answer Seonghwa’s question. The eldest watches his partner with that same, tense look and his eyes glisten with something sad – something understanding, as if he knows Yunho’s answer before he speaks it aloud.

“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answers quietly. He looks down at his feet, unable to meet his elder’s eyes. His eyes squeeze shut with another sigh that shakes through his shoulders. He repeats himself louder, still just barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

Hongjoong steps forward from behind his desk. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“I mean I don’t know,” Yunho whispers sadly. “And she doesn’t either.”

Seonghwa licks his lips, grasping at strings as he scrambles to find the right words to say.

“I don’t understand. How can she not know her own birthday?”

Yunho won’t look up from his feet. His fingers curl into fists and the tips of his nails dig into his palms from the tightness of his grip. He can’t bring himself to loosen his hold.

“Tiny, uh… After everything that happened with her – with that village, they don’t particularly regard her… fondly, you know?”

Yunho speaks slowly and methodically, as if trying carefully to pick the right words to say. His tone is terse and cold, the disdain for the village of his past more than evident in his voice. Hongjoong looks up at his partner with a frown still on his lips, his heart pulsing sadly in his chest.

“But she doesn’t know her own birthday? No one in her village told either of you?”

Yunho sighs again, finally looking up at his Captain with grief plastered across his features in an expression neither man can ignore. Seonghwa is already stepping forward, settling an arm over Yunho’s shoulders and rubbing his thumb across the taller man’s jaw.

Yunho leans closer to Seonghwa and continues, voice deep and throaty with the weight of his words. “We celebrated it once. Back when we were young – back when… Daia was still around.”

Hongjoong looks away.

“But even then,” Yunho continues softly, trying not to think of the bony cage casting shadows of your quivering form. You were so young. Little fingers grasped the cold bars that separated him from you, desperately whispering a plea for him to leave. He should have known your father wouldn’t let you celebrate your birthday like he and the other children did. But the smile on your face was so pure, so genuinely happy that he could never utter the words that may wipe it away.

“We didn’t know the exact date – just that she was born in the spring. Her father… well he killed the attendants that assisted her mother through labor. Not that we could prove it, of course. Anyone around for Bug’s birth… isn’t around anymore. And Bug was raised kind of secluded the first few years of her life. No one knows exactly when she was born and her father certainly wouldn’t say.”

Seonghwa’s eyes continue to glisten with that broken look, and he licks his drying lips before he speaks. His heart throbs painfully, echoing the sadness in his face.. “And… after Daia wasn’t around anymore?”

Seonghwa hates that he asks.

Yunho shifts on his feet and looks away again.

“I, uh… I don’t know much of what happened after Daia…” he trails off for a long moment. “By that time, the village and her father turned their backs on Bug, and I… I was exiled a few years later.”

Seonghwa thumbs over Yunho’s jaw again, trying to soothe his lover’s agony. Hongjoong steps closer and lays his hand across Seonghwa’s back, their combined sadness near tangible in the cavern hall.

“Bug’s birthday…” Yunho finally continues. “She’s never seen it as a good thing, you know? Her father and the village certainly didn’t see it that way.”

Seonghwa’s eyes sadden, the shine of his irises dulling at Yunho’s confession. He turns over his shoulder to look at Hongjoong and presses his lips together, as if regretting bringing up the topic altogether.

“A good thing?” Hongjoong whispers.

Yunho shakes his head, his frown dragging down his lips as he breathes softly. “Not something worth celebrating. The day she was born was… the start of everything bad, I guess.”

Seonghwa’s eyes squeeze shut, the burn of tears forcing pressure to build in the corners.

“Sometimes I think,” Yunho whispers tiredly, his eyes cloudy and unfocused as he stares into the distance. “I think she might hate it; that she might despise the day of her birth because of all the pain that came after.”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to soothe the anguish that swells inside his ribs. There’s grief there, rage too, settling in the pit of his stomach and pushing upwards into his chest and throat. It’s not directed at you – it could never be. It’s towards your father, towards your village, towards anyone that has looked at you with disdain and uttered that foul moniker he knows makes you flinch.

“I’m sorry, Yun.”

Yunho shakes his head, leaning into Seonghwa’s hand and looking down at Hongjoong with his eyes glistening with welling tears. He swallows, clearly resisting the urge to cry, and kisses Seonghwa’s thumb when it brushes his mouth. “‘S okay, Seonghwa. I know your intentions were honorable.”

Seonghwa nods, finally leaning forward until his head rests against Yunho’s collarbone. An arm wraps around the eldest’s shoulders and Hongjoong presses himself against Seonghwa’s back, encasing both him and Yunho.

“So don’t bring up her birthday, then?” Hongjoong whispers, frown still drawing his lips downward. He speaks the question into Seonghwa’s shoulder blade, his lips grazing the tunic covering his skin.

Yunho is silent for a long moment. No one speaks and the sounds of their hushed breaths are all that echo through the hollowed cavern. Yunho ponders his Captain’s question in the silence and thinks of your growth in the years you’ve spent in their camp. Would you rather they never mention your birthday again? Or would you appreciate a different kind of memory to replace the shaded pains of the ones long past?

Soon after, Yunho leans forward to bury his face into Seonghwa’s hair before he breathes deeply and pulls back, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. He thinks of you and that youthful grin that used to grace your lips more often as a child. Yunho recalls the mischief in your smile and the wonder that would flash across your eyes, and he begins to twist an idea around his thoughts. It’s that look he wants to see again. He always wants to see it; the mischief, the awe, the teasing grin you used to throw over your shoulder to get him to chase you through the training grounds. He wants that so badly.

“Actually, Captain…”

Hongjoong peels his head away from Seonghwa’s shoulder, looking up to meet Yunho’s eyes with a raised brow and a question in his eyes. “Hmm?”

Yunho finally manages a fraction of a smile, stroking his hand over Seonghwa’s shoulders as he speaks.

“I think there might be a way we can show her that her birth is something worth celebrating. I’ll need your help though.”

“Anything.”

“Anything for her,” Seonghwa finishes at the same time Hongjoong speaks.

Yunho’s heart swells. The soft grin on his features begins to stretch, mirrored by his two elders. Pride begins to surge beneath his skin and it makes him feel fuzzy.

“What do you need?” Hongjoong whispers into the fraction of space separating their lips. Yunho huffs a smile, leaning closer until his mouth brushes against his leader’s.

“How do you feel about a little trip, Captain?”��

Time passes easily. About a week goes by after the conversation between you, Jongho and Seonghwa before Hongjoong announces that Ateez will be spending a few nights traveling away from camp. He won’t say where they’re traveling to nor why they’re going, but there’s a mischievous grin on his lips when you tilt your head in suspicion. No one will tell you anything about the adventure other than handing you a cloth pack to gather some things for the trip.

Mingi helps you clean your blades and slides them into the scabbards on your back for you. Seonghwa packs food away carefully and slides extra servings of dried and cured meats into your pack followed by the fruit he knows you and Jongho love. San and Yeosang sit by your side as you help sort the first aid supplies the camp may need. The inky vines wrapping around Yeosang’s forearms flashes from beneath his sleeves, and you find yourself following the sight of the tattoo each time you peek a glimpse of golden skin covered in leafy shapes.

San laughs and raises an eyebrow at his lover when he flicks his shirt above his waistband playfully, showcasing the span of scales descending over his hip and up his waist. He giggles when you reach forward to pull his shirt higher over his side, eager to follow the lines of ink up his torso. San pushes your hands away and promises to show you one day. Wooyoung enters the cavern a moment later and exchanges a knowing look with San, as if the same pattern of obsidian scales crawls up the opposite side of his own torso.

On the morning Hongjoong announced their leave, you pack the last of your things diligently in the cloth pack given to you. There’s something fond rippling through your chest as you slide a hand over the large tunic laid across your bed.

The sensation seeps all the way down to your toes, a bittersweet happiness that arose from the realization that you’ve never… owned things before.

In that village, nothing was ever yours. It was always stolen or taken, never owned.

But now…

Now there’s all kinds of things in your corner of the medical cavern. There’s the little rope of twine with eight little beads Yeosang gave you to fiddle with so you wouldn’t pick and pull at your nails. There’s the bear-hide blanket Jongho handmade when you started to grow cold in the winter nights. A pile of spare clothes tailored to fit your size sits beneath your bed. A hollowed shell of smooth, rich cream sits beside you, specially made for you by Wooyoung and San when they noticed your scars were particularly aching in the cold weather. There’s a whetstone and cleaning tools beside your swords, left there by Mingi when he noticed your blades were dulling. Seonghwa always leaves a myriad of flowers beside your bed each week, and the dried stems of all his past bouquets hang above your on a piece of twine Joong brought you. There’s armor and chainmail beneath your bed, presented by Hongjoong with a shy smile. He cleans them for you when he thinks you’re not looking, ensuring the armor stays in good shape and protects you well. One of Yunho’s thicker tunics lies at the foot of your bed, a staple of your growing closet of clothes. He knows you like having his scent nearby. There’s books too, ones from the medical cavern and ones from Wooyoung, who you’ve discovered is quite the avid reader.

There’s just… all sorts of things.

And you’ve never really owned things before. It’s strange. And quite enjoyable, you decide.

You like owning things. You like being part of Ateez – being part of a family.

With your lips twitching upwards into a fond smile, you stand with the last of your belongings and slide the straps of your cloth pack over your shoulders. It sits a little strangely on your back but you huff and step out of the cavern anyway.

The rest of Ateez is already outside, shuffling the last of their belongings into storage and closing up the cave system behind you. A wooden sort of door slides shut behind you and the viny, earthen cover falls over it. It’s perfectly concealed from the wild, appearing just like any other cropping of rocks and stone. You marvel at their ingenuity and turn to find Wooyoung approaching you with a smile on his lips.

“Good morning, Bug. Are you ready?”

Your head tilts with a question as Wooyoung’s hands shift upwards to the straps of your pack. He raises a brow once, always asking for permission before he touches, and you shift closer and slide your hands onto his hips with a nod of your head. Wooyoung’s smile seems to widen, if at all possible, and he carefully begins to adjust the straps of your pack so it sits better across your back. Your gaze follows his hands, tracing over the fading scar on his one wrist – the space where a rusty shackle used to sit. Your lips quirk happily at the sight of the missing metal cuff, now long buried in the earth. He hums happily at the feeling of your hands on his waist, and chuckles beneath his breath when he feels your hands attempting to weasel under his shirt – likely another attempt to get a look at the tattoo you know sits there.

Wooyoung huffs a breath as you skate a gentle hand over his bare hip, focusing on the wavy shape of an oscillating line your draw over his skin. He translates the word as ‘what’ and understands your inquisition to mean ‘Ready for what?’

“Can’t tell you,” he laughs, his chest shaking with the motion as you squeeze his hip in retaliation. “Sorry, baby. Captain’s orders; take it up with Hongjoong if you want to know so badly.”

Your one eye rolls and Wooyoung laughs again, that bright, cackling sound echoing through the trees in a burst of noise that makes your heart flutter. You like Wooyoung’s laugh.

“C’mon you two!” Hongjoong calls from a distance, already beginning to pace towards the southwest. “We’re burning daylight. Let’s get moving.”

You respond with a choked hum despite knowing your Captain can’t hear it. Wooyoung grins, finally satisfied with the adjustments he’s made on your pack, and turns over his shoulder to call back, “We’re coming, Captain. Relax a little. It’s barely dawn, we’re on schedule.”

You don’t need to see Hongjoong to know what expression the Captain has on his face. A tiny smile appears on your lips and when Wooyoung turns back to face you with a hand held out in offering, his grin beams once more.

“C’mon, baby. You wanna walk with me and Sannie today?”

Your answering nod is a little too eager, but Wooyoung doesn’t mention it.

To you, anyway. The smug grin he shoots over his shoulder at Mingi and Yunho is met with a sigh and an eye roll. The vulgar gesture Mingi throws back goes unseen by you too.

Seonghwa sees it though, and the sound of Mingi’s squawk when he’s slapped across the shoulder by the archer makes Wooyoung laugh again.

It’s springtime. The forest is filled with bright shades of emerald green and flowers have begun to sprout along patches of sunlight. Lupin tickle at your ankles when you pass and you watch their lilac and lavender petals sway in the wind with a fond expression. Your last bouquet from Seonghwa was fresh Lupin flowers, a growing favorite of yours he has noticed.

Wooyoung holds your hand as you walk, sometimes shifting to allow San to take his place. They talk happily as you stride through the forest, following Yeosang and Jongho as they lead your band of warriors through the trees. You still don’t know where you’re going nor why you’re going there, but you trust your Captain and you trust your family.

Eventually, you unlink your hands from San to step ahead and walk besides Mingi and Yunho. San’s resounding pout and soft sigh are lost on you, but Wooyoung slides his hand into his partner’s empty fingers with a grin and a teasing poke to San’s side. Mingi intertwines his fingers with yours with a beaming grin and a happy chuckle, swinging your hands between you as you walk. He points out the flora and fauna he recognizes along the hike, explaining their uses as he recalls Yeosang’s teachings. He mentions the honey-haired healer’s tattoo sleeve of medicinal herbs and shows you some of the plants he recognizes to be inked into Yeosang’s skin. You eagerly categorize the leaves and petals of each plant, hoping that you’ll one day be able to find each one decorating Yeosang’s skin.

The first night away from camp is spent sleeping beneath the stars.

Your group of nine lays huddled together in a clearing in the pines, with a small fire burning quietly in the center for warmth. Shifts for watch are assigned and you find yourself curling between Yunho and San that night with a promise to take the final watch with Seonghwa. With cicadas clicking in the distance and a cool breeze rustling the branches above you, you find sleep easy that night. Strangely enough, despite resting out in the open with no cover around, you find you can sleep calmly. Nestled between your Yunho and your San, their body heat keeping you warm even underneath the fur blankets swaddled around you, you feel safe enough to sink into a well-earned sleep. You know the others will wake you if there’s trouble lurking about. They would never let anything happen to their family.

The next day is spent between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, happily listening to their stories and eagerly nudging the both of them to show you some of the ink decorating their skin. Once you found out about Yeosang’s tattoos, there was nothing holding you back from asking the others about their own. Seonghwa relents with a teasing grin towards Hongjoong, showing you the pattern of large scales that crawl up his forearms. You trace the delicate scales with a happy sound, not noticing the shiver that crawls down Seonghwa’s spine. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his partner, but he almost wishes to show you the ink decorating his back and spine too. He only waves you away with a laugh when you turn to him with a tilt of your head and a happy question on your lips.

That night you sleep between Yeosang and Jongho, one of your legs wedged between the youngest’s and your hand clumsily intertwined between the healer’s fingers. This time, the nine of you settle in a cliff alcove, sheltered from the fog and the light drizzle of rain that spatters through the forest around midnight.

There’s no telling how far you’ve traveled from Ateez’s hollow. It’s been two days of mostly hiking and stopping for breaks and meals, but you’ve long grown used to strenuous labor so the walk is not nearly as difficult as you once thought it to be. You still have little to no knowledge on your destination as your Captain is tight-lipped about the matter. He only gives you soft smiles and quiet laughter when you nag him about where or why you’ve left camp.

On the third and last day of your long journey, you walk between Yeosang and Jongho at the front of your pack. The two have been leading you for three days, seeming to know the way without needing a map or compass. Every once and a while, Yeosang looks up at the night sky and lifts a hand to palm at the stars. You understand he must be checking your position, ensuring that they’re still on the right path, but you don’t ask. You find Polaris winking down at you each night with a fondness in your chest, and you give her a gentle, barely-there smile each time you see her.

The healer and his partner pace through the trees with newfound urgency that morning. The two members eagerly shuffle through the trees with beaming grins and an energy that you cannot help but mimic. They’re excited about something – unfathomably so.

“We’re almost there, honey,” Yeosang encourages you, holding out a hand to help you scale the final boulder before you begin your descent back down the mountainside. “Just another mile or so, I promise.”

You trust him.

The others have begun to feed on the buzzing atmosphere building in the group. There’s tension simmering, but a good kind, as if there’s something awaiting your family at your destination. You don’t know what it is, but it must be something good if they’re eagerly beginning to quicken the pace.

Soon after you begin your descent down the small mountain, the dense foliage of pine trees and packed soil gives way to something softer – something you’ve never quite seen or felt before. It’s pliable and squishy beneath your feet, allowing your weight to sink into the material with each step. It leaves footprints in your wake, the ground shifting and moving beneath your feet.

Sand.

It’s sand.

You know it’s sand because Yeosang has some collected in a small jar in the medical cavern. You’ve never seen it before: sand or the sea. You found the tiny bottle of eroded stone once and carefully examined it with a puzzled expression until Yeosang found you. The miniscule grains of rock and shell shifted in the bottle as Yeosang explained where it was from.

You listened to him for hours that day.

He talked about the sea and his life as a captain of his own ship from the hour of the sun’s peak until it descended beneath the horizon. You were fascinated. Eagerly hanging onto every single one of his words, you listened to Yeosang with a rapture you couldn’t describe. He spoke of the ocean and the smell of salt in the fresh air, mentioning that there was a particular hint of something so ocean-like in the scent that he couldn't begin to describe. Yeosang described the sand and the shore, detailing how the plush sand like the stuff in his bottle gave way to harder packed ground the closer you grew to the sea. He talked of how it felt to play in the waves and to feel the cool touch of the ocean on his skin.

You marveled at him for hours, longing desperately to one day know the smell he spoke of, to feel the ocean breeze tickle your skin and to feel its waves brush against your feet.

It sounded wonderful.

So when the sand beneath your feet begins to thicken, giving way to clumsier footsteps and the sound of something roaring in the distance, you perk upwards.

Your entire body slams to a halt, startling San who walks behind you. Jerking upwards, your one eye darts over to Yeosang, who stands with Jongho at his side, already looking at you. There’s this look in their eyes; something fond and gentle – an expression you’ve begun to recognize. They watch you as you begin to piece together the information you’ve gathered of this little trip, smiles on their faces as you realize where they’ve taken you.

At your side, San begins to bend forward, his hands reaching out to pull at the laces of your boots and chuckling beneath his breath. You reach out to stabilize yourself on his shoulder as you make a sound of confusion.

‘What’s going on?’ you try to question without speaking.

At your back, Yunho runs a hand down your spine and soothes the tension in your shoulders. You reach back, grasping his hand with a strength that surprises you and draw that oscillating squiggle across the back of his hand with a bewildered expression.

‘What’s happening?’

There’s another word you want to say. One you don’t have a translation for. A word you’ve never spoken or seen.

Ocean. The sea.

You don’t have a word for it.

But you can smell it now. That salty, fresh sort of scent with a hint of something you cannot place. Just like Yeosang described.

The sea.

San taps your leg, garnering your attention and helping you lift your foot so you can place it on his knee. He’s kneeling at your feet, one leg propped up to lift your foot and the other in the sand beneath him. The healer pulls at your laces, beginning to untie your shoes and pull them from your feet with a grin.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that low timber that makes you shiver. “Let’s get these off.”

Your held tilts in confusion. Seonghwa chuckles behind you, leaning into Mingi’s side and shooting a look over at Wooyoung. “Gotta take your shoes off unless you want sand in the soles, Bug. It’ll be a pain to walk back with all that in ‘em. I promise you’ll never be able to get it all out.”

Hongjoong laughs from beside Jongho, the Captain throwing his head back with a knowing grin. “Speaking from experience, huh, darling?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and ignores his lover, dropping a hand to intertwine with Wooyoung’s. The younger eagerly locks their fingers together, smiling happily and leaning his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder as you process everything.

The others begin to pull off their own shoes, tying them to their packs or holding the laces in their fingers. Mingi laughs and pushes Wooyoung when he bends over to undo his laces, and when Wooyoung stumbles, he shouts indignantly and lurches upwards for revenge. Seonghwa laughs and tries to settle them, only to end up yanked out of the way by a grinning Yeosang. Wooyoung and Mingi screech at each other, beginning to race down the sand towards the roaring sound that continues to swell in the distance.

You worriedly look down at San, his dark irises already looking up at you with adoration swirling behind them. The healer pulls off your sock and carefully sets your foot back onto the sand, watching as you marvel at the plush, cool material beneath the soles of your feet.

“C’mon, tiny,” Yunho laughs behind you, chest rumbling as he speaks. The vibration echoes through your back from how close the warrior is pressed against you. He grins when you shiver pleasantly. “We’ve gotta catch up.”

San lifts your other foot delicately and places it on his waiting knee, repeating the process of taking off your shoe and sock before he ties the laces together and stores them away in his pack. Before he sets your foot back onto the sand, San’s eyes twinkle with something mischievous.

He leans forward and drags his fingers across the skin of your calf, eyes crinkling as he smiles. You look back down at him with your stomach fluttering pleasantly, watching as San leans forward and presses his lips to the side of your calf.

Oh.

His lips skate over the muscle and his hand rests where your thigh connects with the knee. You feel your breathing still. Air catches in your lungs, and some burst of emotion lurches into your throat as you stop and stare down at the healer with one widened eye. You can feel the smile on San’s soft lips as he drags his mouth from your calf to your knee, kissing your skin sweetly as he goes. He drifts over scars both fresh and faded, but does not stop moving as he ascends up your calf. San leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, your skin practically shivering under his touch and lighting ablaze when he pulls away.

Oh.

You stare open-mouthed at the healer when San finally slides a hand down your leg and deposits it onto the sand. You lick your lips once, trying desperately to come up with words to say, but there’s nothing. Just the trail of blazing heat San left behind and a roaring fire beginning to spread inside your chest. You can practically feel the heat in your face, and you lift a hand to palm at your cheek as San watches with a teasing grin. Your figure practically vibrates as you shiver through the emotion bursting through you.

“San…”

Said healer mimics your shiver as you whisper his name, fingers dancing along your calf before he stops. He presses one final kiss to your knee, at the crease of the joint, and this time your eye slides shut with a shiver. The plush feeling of his lips against your skin is ambrosia for your soul and the barest touch of moisture is left behind when he finally pulls away.

He looks up at you with honey in his irises, hand skating down your calf once more and smiles.

“C’mon, Bug. We’ve got places to be,” he teases, saccharine timber never failing to make you melt.

As if he wasn’t the one distracting you.

Finally, you’re able to squeeze his shoulder thankfully and San beams up at you in the way that makes those sweet little dimples poke out of his cheeks. You nearly lean forward to caress a finger of the indents that make your heart mushy, but still as the cool sand sinks between your toes.

It’s… soft.

The sand melts beneath your soles like butter, cradling your heels and caressing your skin like silk. You wiggle your toes and awe at the feeling, watching the sand shift and move with your lips just barely parted in wonder. San watches from your feet, his gentle eyes roaming over your partly-concealed face and grinning at the expression plastered across your features. Your lips are parted, but just barely, taking deep breaths to inhale the fresh air of the sea breeze and one eye dilated with awe. San's heart thumps vibrantly beneath his ribs, a song of your name. It calls out to you sweetly, and San swears that when he runs his hand across the bare skin of your leg, brushing over scars and broken skin, he can hear your heart call his name in return.

Your one eye darts upwards to meet your Captain’s gaze.

Hongjoong stares at you with some ineffable softness in his expression. He reaches a hand out to grasp your fingers, helping you step forward away from San. The healer stands from his kneeling position, his own footwear now missing, and joins you at your side.

“You like it?” Hongjoong whispers as you near.

The vigorous nod of your head is almost comical, and Hongjoong chuckles beneath his breath. Yes. Yes you like it.

San beams at your side, unable to stop the mirthful sound of his laughter. It erupts from his chest in that giggling way that you adore. You tilt your head to look at him, your chest swelling and heart thumping with the tumultuous feelings surging within you. San reaches out to run a hand down your arm and you lean close offering a single line of ‘thanks’ across his palm.

Yunho leans forward and pecks a kiss across your forehead, directly over the mask concealing the right half of your face and then turns to walk after Wooyoung and Mingi, San at his heels. He doesn’t acknowledge the kiss, but your heart jumps into your throat regardless. Your fingers itch to follow him, twitching in an attempt to reach for him, but you turn back to your Captain instead.

Hongjoong is still looking at you, that ineffable softness still radiating from him. “C’mon, angel. Let’s go see the ocean.”

You’ve never been more excited.

Hongjoong begins pulling you in the direction the others have disappeared in, following them over the dunes of sand. At first, he pulls your awestruck figure behind him as you make your way through the deeping sand, turning back to watch you marvel at the grains of white and cream colored grains. Your feet drag, slowing the two of you down as you continue to look down at the sand beneath you. At one point, you can’t resist the temptation and you stop, carefully pulling your hand from Hongjoong’s to bend at the knees and drop into the sand.

“Woah, angel!” Hongjoong gasps as you let go of his hand and urgently drop into the earth below. “Careful!”

Dragging your fingers through the silky material, you watch the tiny pieces of sediment cascade back into the hills beneath you as they trail between your fingers. The sand is cool to the touch and gentle as it scratches against your skin. You thought it would be rough, but it’s not. Not this sand anyway.

Seonghwa chuckles behind you, stopping to drop his hands beneath your shoulders and gently lift you back up to your feet. The others are little specks in the distance, just a few hundred yards away. The eldest carefully sets you on your feet and slides a hand down to intertwine with your own.

“C'mon, lovebug. We haven’t even reached the good part yet.”

The good part? You wonder. How could it possibly get any better than this?

But as the crashing sound gets louder with each step you take and the smell of salt continues to grow stronger, you begin to realize what the good part is.

Soon after, it becomes you dragging Hongjoong and Seonghwa through the sand dunes. Eagerly tugging them behind you as you race towards the others, you sink into the sand and stumble a few times, only catching yourself when either member scrambles to grab your waist. You push quicker through the deepening sand each time you right yourself, racing through the dunes until you finally see it.

The sea.

And you stop moving.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa nearly crash into your back as you freeze, body halting at the top of the sand dune. Your one eye is transfixed on the view before you, mouth parted and body slack with awe.

Waves are crashing along the shore, breaking into foamy surf as they collide with the cream-colored sand. There are little birds with thin, long legs dancing in the shoreline, pecking at things in the packed sand. You watch with fascination as they rush away in a flock from an oncoming wave. When the foam finally settles, they return to their feeding grounds, continuing to peck away at something beneath the darker sand. The smell of salt fills your senses and there’s a brush of water against your skin as a breeze carries a mist of salt onto the shoreline.

You’ve never seen so much… color before.

The ocean is blue. Green too, and teal and dark and bright, and every color in the range you can possibly think of. It’s aquamarine in the peaks of crashing waves and a darker cyan in the deepness of the salty water. There’s pale blue, creamy skies and even paler cream-colored clouds. You nearly wish you could reach out and touch one.

It’s wonderful. And it’s so much more than you think you deserve.

With awe on your features and mouth slightly parted, you stare mystified at the sea before you. Hongjoong steps up beside you, the others starting to circle back to stand nearby. They just stand there… watching you for a minute.

They watch your one pupil dilate and your expression softens into wonderous glee. Their hands intertwine with each other, fingers squeezing one another and hearts thumping happily in their chests. There’s pride there, and affection too, roaring madly beneath their skin and calling out to the sea with a throaty, triumphant call.

You like it. You like the sea.

And they like you.

Hongjoong slides a hand down your arm until he can gently link your scarred fingers with his own. Your attention briefly shifts away from the sea to look over at your captain.

His soft brown hair rustles as the sea breeze flutters through the strands, and Hongjoong smiles. Eyes scrunching into a beaming grin, the one that you like so much, he offers a squeeze of your palm. The scar crossing his one eye moves with his expression and you adore the way it looks when he smiles. Chocolate brown irises flicker in the brightness of the sunlight and for a moment, you think you much prefer the color of his eyes than the enchanting blue-green of the sea.

But it’s tough competition, of course.

Hongjoong squeezes your hand once more, fully drawing your attention back to him, and he leans close to carefully grasp the side of your face. His palm gently cups your mask, stroking his thumb over the tough material with a delicateness you cannot fathom deserving. But he touches you regardless, even if it's the mask instead of your skin. Hongjoong doesn’t care that you continue to wear it. None of them do. It’s a part of you, and they’ll continue to care for you all the same.

“Are you happy?” The Captain inquires, licking his lips as he watches you.

The vigor in your nod nearly makes him laugh. His beaming grin only seems to widen and you find yourself stunned at how beautiful he looks happy.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy, angel.”

You want to ask something else. Something about why your little clan has ventured this far or perhaps something else, but you can’t begin to find the words for it.

You don’t need to though.

Hongjoong leans closer, his warm, umber eyes scanning your features as he whispers something only for you to hear.

“Happy birthday, Bug.”

You barely register the sentiment before your captain leans forward and gently presses his lips to the crown of your head.

You don’t breathe. Too frightened that any movement will force him to pull away, you stay remarkably still and stare numbly into Hongjoong’s chest.

His lips linger for a long moment against your hairline, and you feel the warmth of his exhale against your scalp. The feeling makes your stomach flutter pleasantly and suddenly your body feels like you’re going to vibrate out of sheer enjoyment. Another shiver tickles its way up your spine and you finally exhale shakily. Reaching a hand upwards, you clutch onto the hand Hongjoong has still cupping your cheek.

Her heart finally throbs with a dull ache.

Your birthday?

You didn’t even think…

Hongjoong exhales softly and bends to drop a second kiss onto your mask, just above where your right eye would be. It throbs suddenly, but not so painfully this time.

Your birthday.

They came all this way for you?

All of this… leaving the camp, walking all this way, spending nights on the road, showing you the sea for the first time… they did this to celebrate your birthday?

Your heart hurts.

No one has ever done that for you before.

You suppose Yunho and Daia tried once… but that didn’t end so well. Salt wells behind your one eye and your lip twitches just once, but it's enough for Hongjoong to catch. Your chest aches with the memory of your mother. It’s a hurt you could never quite soothe.

The Captain’s smile is still bright when he pulls away but there’s a sadness beneath the joy. No, not sadness, you suppose. Something empathetic – something… bittersweet.

Hongjoong knows. They all do.

“My birthday?” Your mouth parts to let out the croaked sound. Your voice has gotten better. The deeper, rough tone of your voice has begun to fade after finally learning to use it again. It’s beginning to return to what it used to be – slow and steadily.

From behind you, Yeosang hums deeply. You recognize the sound without turning to look at him. His voice always carries that undertone of sweet and smooth honey, and you can’t find any other way to describe it.

“Yeah, honey. You told me you’ve never seen the sea, right? We thought it would make a good birthday present.”

The healer is standing behind Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung at his sides and the rest of Ateez just beyond. They’re all here. For you.

You shift on your feet, barely able to restrain the wetness of your one eye as you attempt to face them. Your heart still throbs, but it’s more of a pleasant ache – a good one. A sea breeze rustles your hair. Three silver rings click against your mask; a comforting sound that reminds you of home – of Yunho. The scent of salt in the air fills you with warmth and the silky sand beneath your feet cradles you in the earth’s gentle hands. The world itself seems to wrap around you in its kindness, delicately embracing you as if asking for forgiveness.

It feels like your mother – like the hugs you can barely remember.

The burn of tears returns tenfold.

You’ve never celebrated your birthday before. It was never a day others regarded with joy, so you supposed it was only fair to see it the same way. You don’t even really know what day you were born. Father never told you – he never told anyone.

But… perhaps this day – the day Ateez has chosen for you – can be your birthday. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to be a bad thing anymore.

“We wanted to show you something new. Something good. Do you like it?” Wooyoung whispers as you process your feelings. His voice is apprehensive, as if he isn’t quite sure how you’ll respond to celebrating your birthday. You can barely hear him over the roaring sound of waves colliding with the shoreline and birds peeping in the surf.

You’re already throwing yourself into Wooyoung’s arms before a moment of silence can pass. You crash into his chest with a crooned sound, a desperate cry of joy.

“Yes!” You finally croak, the word sounding more like a sob than an agreement. “Yes, I like it!”

Wooyoung laughs happily as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a joyful sound. His chest vibrates with his laughter and you love the way it feels against your body. One of your hands slides out from between you and you urgently grasp ahold of Yeosang’s shirt and tug him into your pile with a quick movement. San follows soon after, lured in by Wooyoung’s touch and suddenly you’re buried beneath a mountain of Ateez’s warmth.

Another wet sob leaves your lips, but it’s much closer to a laugh this time.

“I love it…”

And we love you.

He doesn’t say it aloud, but Wooyoung hopes you hear it anyway.

Seonghwa lets out a hearty laugh despite it sounding wet with his own tears, and he wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders as he tugs his captain close. The leader’s eyes are watery as he and the archer pile into your embrace. Mingi and Yunho follow quickly after, with the tallest of the two reaching out to snag Jongho’s tunic. The youngest is already moving, sliding beneath Yeosang’s arm to nuzzle into the healer’s side. One of his hands nestles between his lover’s ribs, resting atop your bicep. You push closer into their hands, warm and happy and still softly crying.

You love it.

It cannot possibly get any better than this. Not even the comforting breeze of the ocean air brushing over your skin nor the warmth of any roaring campfire could rival this feeling. There’s no warmth in the world that can surmount the heat of Ateez embracing you. Their hands carefully sweeping over skin leaves trails of pleasant heat in their wake, and the throb of your aching heart is only soothed by a soft coo leaving San’s lips. Wooyoung slides a hand over your head, pulling you closer into his neck, and you feel a bigger hand – Yunho’s, you know – scratch gently over your scalp. Another settles onto your hip, rubbing gentle circles into the bone. They’re Seonghwa’s, you recognize the calluses on his two fingers when they brush over the skin of your bare hip. Mingi’s hand settles across your back, resting between your shoulder blades. His firm touch and big hands are easy to decipher. Jongho’s wrap around your arm, strong and steadfast, just like you know him to be. Your captain’s smaller hand finds your fingers, sliding between them as you grip onto San with a fierce grip.

Hongjoong’s hands tremble when he twists his grip to drag a line down your left ring finger. His gaze finds yours, a watery smile on his lips when your mouth parts in shock and your one eye dilated beyond comprehension. The Captain finishes drawing the line at the tip of your nail, where each of his fingers meets the end of each of yours. Then Hongjoong slides his hand into yours and squeezes three times.

Yunho must have taught him that one.

Because no one else has ever uttered those words to you – least of all meant them.

Your grip tightens fervently, pulling until you can press Hongjoong’s hand into your chest and let him feel the racing pulse of your heart. It slams into your ribs with a thunderous pace, beating in a pattern you hope he can discern. You pull your head from Wooyoung’s neck just slightly. Just enough to lean down and press your lips to Hongjoong’s fingers.

You hope he knows what it means.

He does.

“Happy birthday, tiny,” Yunho murmurs into the shared space between the nine of you. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

You weep.

Ateez spends three nights and four days at the beach.

On the first, you don’t have the courage to venture too far into the shore. The roaring of waves crashing onto the sand is intimidating when you don’t know how to swim. You settle for watching the others splash and wrestle in the shallow sea. Their shouts of glee are enough joy to warm your heart.

You watch Mingi grapple with Hongjoong on the shoreline, huffing softly with a grin when Mingi inevitably gets the upper hand. The guard lifts Hongjoong over his shoulder and laughs deeply as he storms his way towards the sea.

“Put me down!” Hongjoong roars, smacking his hand against Mingi’s back. “Mingi!”

The guard only laughs and spins the two of them in the shallows as he wades deeper into the waves.

“Don’t you dare!”

You watch as Mingi laughs brightly once more, calling out a “too late!” as he unceremoniously dumps his captain into the sea.

Hongjoong dunks beneath the water with a roar, and for a moment you worry he won’t emerge again. He does, however, and lurches from the waves with an undignified shout and lunges towards Mingi as he laughs.

“Get back here!”

You grin and watch the two continue to wrestle in the waves.

Jongho takes you onto the nearby rocks and shows you the wonders of tide pools. He and Yeosang spent years living by the sea, and he murmurs hundreds of little facts about each of the animals he can find. Crouching down by a shallow pool, Jongho reaches into the cool water and ever so carefully lifts a sea star from the water. He cradles it delicately, leaving it half submerged as he pulls you closer with his other hand.

“This is a sea star,” he whispers, looking up at you and gesturing for you to crouch beside him. “You want to feel? You won’t hurt it.”

When you crouch at his side, Jongho pulls your hand towards him with a smile. Bent at the knees, you lean into his side and watch with a bated breath and marvel at the texture of the sea star still carefully held in Jongho’s hands. It’s soft and squishy beneath your delicate touch and you huff a smile as you watch with a mystified expression.

You watch some of the tiny feet of the sea star wiggle in Jongho’s hand and whip your head over to face him with a question on your lips.

Jongho is already looking at you, watching you instead of the sea star in his hands. He’s smiling, softly and sweetly, his eyes fixed on your one eye. They drift from your left one to where your right would be if not hidden behind the mask, then he drops them to your lips. Your breath stutters and you swallow shyly before Jongho lifts his eyes back to your own.

He smiles, as if nothing happened and continues, “See the poky creatures down here? The ones that look like they have needles? Those are urchins. The sea stars will eat those.”

It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to pull your gaze away from Jongho’s face.

At another tidal pool, Jongho points out a creature he calls an anemone. The vibrant teal and green color of its shape mystifies you and you lean closer to investigate it. Listening carefully to Jongho’s explanation of the anemone, you look back up at him with a question in your eyes.

“Yeah, you can touch that one too. Be careful though.”

You don’t understand his warning but carefully drop your hand into the pool to delicately caress the anemone anyway. The chill waters surround your skin and you lean closer to touch the creature, you let out a startled squeal when its sticky tentacles wrap themselves around your finger. Surprised, you lurch away from the pool, confusion in your face and hands braced on the rock beside you.

Jongho laughs so hard you think he might choke.

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows and an upset pout on your lips, a little disgruntled Jongho didn’t tell you that would happen.

The youngest continues to laugh at the utter confusion in your expression, finally bracing himself against you and apologizing.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, Bug. I couldn’t help myself!”

You frown and push gently at his chest, posing a little miffed at Jongho’s teasing. The youngest snorts and pulls you closer to his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I won’t do it again, I promise,” he laughs. “We should wash your hands though, the stingers on those anemones can leave toxins on your skin. I don’t want you to touch your face without cleaning your hands first.”

You huff and nod, letting him lead you away from the rocks and towards the others. When you find San, you race away from Jongho and bury yourself into his chest with a pretend pout. The healer wraps you up in his embrace without question, turning to look at Jongho with a raised brow. Jongho rolls his eyes and laughs.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung take you to collect shells in the afternoon.

Your footprints linger in the sand behind you as you hold the archer’s hand and walk along the shoreline. The sand is packed beneath your feet closer to the shore and you find that there are all sorts of different shells just above the water line.

You recognize some of the larger, smoother shells Yeosang and San use to store medicine sometimes. They’re scallop-shaped and hollow in the middle, and the healers like to use them for creams or other ointments. Seonghwa helps you carry some back to the healers who gratefully pile your collection into one of their packs. They can always use more shells in the medical cavern.

Further down the beach, you find a plethora of smaller shells and drop down into the sand to rummage through them. There’s hundreds of them, some twisting into points and others round at the edges. Some are still split into pieces and others are still whole. Some are closed like a locket. Seonghwa tells you to leave those ones alone – there’s still creatures living in those ones. You gasp and carefully set the shell back down into the sand ever so delicately. The archer smiles fondly at your care for the earth and her creatures.

One of the bigger shells that washes up on the shore catches your attention, and you rush over to the pristine, cream colored object. Yeosang called these conches. When you excitedly turn over the shell, you’re startled to find a spiny looking creature inside. A large claw grazes your hand and your heart lurches.

You shout in surprise, jerking away from the shell with a gasp.

“Bug?!”

Seonghwa is at your side in an instant, hands on your back and pulling you away from the shell. “What happened?”

He doesn’t know why you shouted at first, too worried something has hurt you. His hands slide across your shoulders, turning you to face him and urgently scanning you for injuries. But when he looks down at the crab claw emerging from the shell, Seonghwa feels his chest shake with quiet laughter. Your head jerks back to look at the archer.

“It’s alright, darling. You just startled the crab living inside this one. He won’t hurt you, honey.”

Each shell you turn over for the rest of the day is done carefully and gently, and Seonghea feels his heart tug affectionately at how cute you look doing so. You nudge one with a stick to see if any claws come out and Seonghwa has to bury his smile in Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“She’s so precious,” the warrior murmurs under his breath.

Seonghwa hums in agreement, his head lifting from his partner’s shoulder to find you waving them over excitedly.

“We’re coming, sweetheart!”

Wooyoung settles at your side with a grin and looks down at the smooth stones in your hands. There’s a few rocks mixed in with the more ornate looking shells you’ve gathered, and Wooyoung tilts his head in an attempt to decipher why you’ve called them over.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Seonghwa’s heart stutters at the beaming smile on your lips. You smile more and this is not the first he’s ever seen, but each time you look up at him with that grin on your face, Seonghwa feels his stomach flutter and pride swell from his gut. He almost bites down on his bottom lip to resist sending you back a grin of his own, but Seonghwa doesn’t. And he’s grateful he does, because the way your one eye crinkles with joy when he smiles down at you makes his cheeks burn and his skin tingle.

“Look!” You urgently whisper, swallowing around the word to repress how sore your throat is.

Directing his attention to the dark stones in your hands, Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

You lift the stone beside his face, pulling Wooyoung into your side as you do. The two of you face Seonghwa as the archer grows more confused. The dark brown, near ebony-colored stone is lifted just beside his temple and you watch with a marveled expression as you shift your gaze from the rock to his eyes.

“What is it?” Seonghwa urges.

Wooyoung grins, his teeth flashing as he laughs sweetly. His two-toned hair ruffles in the breeze and Wooyoung turns to face you, squeezing your hip as he slides an arm around you.

“That’s a good find, Bug,” he murmurs, looking back up at Seonghwa with honey in his gaze. “The same shade as his eyes. It matches him perfectly.”

You nearly vibrate with happiness, wiggling a little in Wooyoung’s arms as Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle. “Really?”

You nod fervently, reaching for his hand and dropping the smooth stone into his hand and curling his fingers around it. Seonghwa holds the rock carefully, not looking away from your one eye as he lifts it to press into his heart.

“Thank you, darling.”

You smile again, just a little twitch of your lips and nod. Then you turn to Wooyoung and weasel your way out of his grip to hold another up for him. This stone is a similar shade as Seonghwa’s, but just different enough that Seonghwa can see where you’ve matched this one to the exact hue of Wooyoung’s umber irises.

You hold it out to Wooyoung with a tilt of your head and Wooyoung has to resist the urge to lean forward and squish your cheeks. He’s rarely seen you so excited – so… at ease. It makes every muscle in his body eager with the urge to hold you close and squeeze you tight.

“For me?”

You nod excitedly and Wooyoung accepts the stone with a skip of his pulse. “Thank you, baby.”

He and Seonghwa exchange looks and Wooyoung slips the stone into his pocket, where he knows he’ll keep it safe.

“Help me?” You whisper softly, gesturing to the plethora of stones and shells beneath you. “For the others.”

“Of course.”

The two help you find six more stones, one of each of the other members of Ateez. Each one is the exact shade of their eyes – colors you know by heart.

Wooyoung cannot tell you that after the trip, the rest of the boys gather to look at the stones and shells you collected for them. He doesn’t tell you that Mingi finds some twine and they braid bands for each other, carefully depositing their gifts onto string and binding them to each other’s wrists.

On the first night, the nine of you sleep around a bonfire.

The crackling flames keep you warm from the evening’s cool breeze, but you don’t think you sleep at all. The excitement and pure glee from the day keeps you awake. Adrenaline still roars through your veins and you settle for watching the stars for a moment longer. You find the twinkling shape of Polaris easily, and whisper your thanks up at her, just like you do every night since Jongho pointed her out.

She winks back.

The fire continues to crackle and the smell of wood burning soothes your nerves. Eventually, you pull yourself from your bed roll, carefully maneuvering away from Yunho’s warm chest and wrap your blanket around your shoulders. Quietly, you make your way over to the massive piece of driftwood facing the shore.

Then, you drop silently beside Mingi, who sits and watches the sea. It’s technically his watch, but the guard faces the ocean as if he cannot bring himself to look away.

Mingi does not startle when you find your place at his side, only shifting slightly to allow you to get comfortable. As you settle, you scooch as close as you can towards Mingi’s broad chest. Your side presses into his as you rest your weight against him and Mingi smiles, still looking at the sea. He easily accommodates your weight and wraps an arm around your shoulder, covering both your forms with his blanket. You snuggle close, burying your face into his neck and continue to watch the waves crash against the shore as the moon illuminates their peaks.

You sit there for hours. Though you cannot sleep, excitement still pumping through your body, you find staying awake with Mingi is just as nice. Far more comforting, you’d even say. Mingi’s body heat keeps you pleasantly warm and his big arm stays wrapped around your waist. Soon after you settle, the guard drops his cheek onto your head and he breathes slow and deep.

Even when Yeosang relieves him of his shift, taking over his place for watch, Mingi remains still. The two of you stay there until neither of you can keep your slowly fluttering lids open any longer.

Yunho finds the two of you in the morning, and he kisses Mingi awake with a sweet grin and soft eyes. He brushes a hand through your hair and drops a kiss onto your head, eventually dropping onto your other side where he wraps an arm around both you and Mingi as the three of you watch the sunrise.

The second day, you finally find the courage to venture into the waves with San and Yunho at your sides. Yeosang stands in the waves, waiting for you.

San leads the way, walking backwards into the surf and holding both your hands. Yunho stands beside you, one of his arms reaching out to steady you and reassure you that he’s still there. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he winks at you. The honey-haired healer grew up in the sea. You know that if anything goes wrong, Yeosang will know what to do.

“Let’s go, tiny. You’ve got this,” Yunho encourages, softly nudging you forward as you apprehensively toe the water line.

You can’t swim. And you’ve never ventured into the sea before.

It’s a little daunting, but the dimples on San’s cheeks and the smile on his lips encourages you to keep walking. You clutch his hands with a vice grip and gasp as the cold, salty waves cascade over your toes.

“Sorry, lovebug. It’s a little cold.”

San laughs as you throw him a withering look. That information would have been helpful before you stepped into the sea. Yeosang laughs at your side, rubbing a hand along your waist and watching you shiver at the warmth of his touch.

No matter how many times they touch you, you cannot help the way it makes you feel.

“A little further and we can stop,” San murmurs, squeezing your hand when you stumble in the sand and pulling you closer. “C’mon, baby.”

A few steps further and you stand at Yeosang’s side, digging your toes into the plush sand beneath your feet and marveling at how the waves lap at your knees. It’s cold, but you don’t mind since it’s a reprieve from the midday sun. When you turn your back to the sea, a strong wave pushes you closer to San and he laughs when you stumble into his chest. Water splashes upwards, and you get your first taste of seawater.

“Woah!” San laughs, steadying you by the waist and watching as you stick your tongue out with an indignant sound. He can’t help the way laughter bubbles from his chest. You look positively betrayed by the ocean, as if the taste of salt on your tongue personally offends you.

Yunho and Yeosang dissolve into giggles behind San, leaning onto each other to support themselves. Your one eye narrows and you shoot them an angry look, but San thinks you look more like an angry, wet cat than anything scary. Of course, he would never tell you that.

“I’m sorry, Bug!” Yunho laughs. “You just look so funny!”

San listens to you grumble something under your breath, something that sounds like ‘showing him something funny,’ and then you bend at the waist and splash a mountain of water in his direction.

Yunho guffaws at the betrayal and San dissolves into his own laughter, bending at the waist and bracing a hand on his chest as he cackles. Your grin is positively menacing, Yeosang decides. He wonders if you’ll become as much of a brat as Wooyoung if this continues.

Yunho, now drenched in salt water and wet hair dripping into his eyes, enacts revenge and lunges towards you. San, ever the sweetheart, throws himself in between you and Yunho and the two sink into the waves with smiles.

Eventually, when your skin begins to wrinkle from the time you spend in the waves and the sun begins to set, Yeosang and you step away from the shore to settle against the same piece of driftwood that marks your temporary camp. Yeosang sits atop the log and you lay just below him on the sand. You lean against his leg, just watching the rest of the boys continue to dance and swim in the surf. The sound of their laughter makes your heart happy and their gleaming smiles leave a grin of your own on your lips.

It’s nice – smiling again, you mean. It’s a gift from Ateez they have not realized they’ve given, but you take care to treasure it regardless.

You wrap an arm around Yeosang’s tattooed calf, your fingers occasionally dragging along the pattern of thorns that descend from his thigh. They wind around his leg, ending at the bone of his ankle and you’ve seldom been able to keep your hands away from the obsidian ink since he showed you. This, of course, is much to Yeosang’s delight, and the honey-haired healer can barely resist the way he beams so brightly when your delicate hands skim across his tattoos again. He loves it when you touch him.

Mingi and Seonghwa leave the shoreline after a few minutes. They step away from the water to stoke the bonfire at the center of your makeshift camp. The flickering amber hues dance along burning bark and release a pleasant aroma onto the beach. You inhale deeply and lean further into Yeosang, humming happily when one of his hands reaches out to scratch along your scalp.

Head scratches have become one of your weaknesses, you suppose. All it takes is for one of them to run their nails along your head and you’ll sink into their embrace with a happy sigh and mushy bones.

When Mingi is satisfied with the roar of the campfire, he and Seonghwa press kisses to Yeosang’s hair and brush fingers over your hairline as they pace back towards the shore.

A harmonious shout of glee leaves San’s lips as Jongho tackles him into the shallow surf, and there’s an uproar of laughter from amongst the boys. San shouts something along the lines of being cold and twists in the waves in an attempt to pin Jongho beneath him. Jongho, easily the strongest of the nine of you, maintains his place above San but spits salt water out of his mouth in surprise when his partner douses him with a splash. In revenge, Jongho prepares to dunk San’s head beneath the water, only to be tackled into the sea by Yunho. The youngest lets out a squawk of surprise as he sinks into the water and the laughter begins again.

You turn your head towards Yeosang, resting your cheek against his knee and looking up at him with your one eye. You nudge him gently with your knuckles, drawing his attention to you.

“Are you going to join them?”

The honey-haired healer barely catches your question over the cacophony in the surf, but he smiles at the sound of your voice. He slides a hand deeper into your hair and scratches against the nape of your neck, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when your eye flutters shut briefly.

His eyes, chocolate brown and gleaming with the flicker of flames before you, are warm and strong. They look down at you like you’re the only thing he sees – the only thing he wants to see.

It’s familiar. This moment is too.

Shivering gently from the weight of his gaze and bones feeling mushy and warm, you look up at Yeosang and wait patiently for his answer.

“No, not yet,” he whispers in return, expression soft and eyes tender. “I’m very happy where I am right now.”

You inhale deeply through your nose, recalling when he spoke the same words so long ago. The exhale that shudders through your lungs is accompanied by the sound of Yeosang’s deep, honey-sweet voice.

“I‘m happy here with you.”

He finally has the courage to say it.

You look away from Yeosang so he doesn’t see the water welling in your lone eye. The stroke of thanks you brush across his skin is enough to let him know what you mean. The swell of electricity zinging beneath your skin leaves you breathless and you lean into Yeosang’s legs to combat the shift in emotion.

The healer hums sweetly in response, unable to look away from you. He examines you as you watch his partners, lifting his head when another uproar of laughter erupts when Hongjoong overpowers Wooyoung in whatever game they’re playing in the waves.

But when you glance back at Yeosang shyly, you see it.

You see the way he looks at you now.

With stars in his gaze and affection glimmering in the shine of his irises, you see the way Yeosang’s features melt so sweetly as he watches you. He looks at you the way he looks at them; like he’s staring at his very heart and soul – like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather gaze upon than your face warmed by the flicker of roaring flames and your one eye finally staring back into his. No apprehension, this time. No fear or confusion or worry or an amalgamation of all of them together. You just… look back at him.

Just like how he looks at you.

When Seonghwa and Mingi rejoin the parade, kicking up salt water and spinning through the shallows, the boys cheer gleefully and begin to dance. It’s chaotic and a mess of stumbling and laughter, but it’s dancing nonetheless. The sound of their joy is infectious and spreads along the beach until it reaches you and Yeosang.

But he’s not listening to them. He’s listening to you. His ears are trained on the sound that erupts from his feet, bubbling from your lips in a noise he’s been praying to hear.

Laughter.

You’re laughing.

There’s this bright, heart-stopping smile spread across your lips as you look up at Yeosang and listen to your family dance on the beach. Your shoulders shake softly with the movement of your laughter, and Yeosang can feel the vibrations of your chest pressed against his leg. It starts as a muffled giggle, barely concealed by your smile, but it deepens into a hearty laugh from deep in your belly.

He cannot tear his eyes from you.

You laugh.

You laugh and you look up at him with stars in your eyes and his heart in your hands, and it takes every fiber of his strength not to lean forward and drown himself in the taste of your lips. It’s all he wants – all he needs, he swears it. One taste of your lips would sate him for life, even though he knows he’d never be able to tear himself away again.

When you lean upwards, grabbing ahold of his fingers and pulling them towards you, Yeosang’s mouth parts to suck in a breath.

You kiss his fingers.

By the Gods, maybe that was a lie. One kiss would never be enough to sate him – there would never be enough of your touch or your kisses that could ever appease his soul. Even if he were immortal and your paths intertwined until the last of the stars burned from the sky, not even then would he have enough of you.

You laugh again, grinning up at Yeosang with a toothy smile and the corner of your mouth digging into your mask. If he wasn’t already sitting, he swears he would drop to his knees at your side.

He loves it – the sounds of your laughter. No matter how raw or croaked the sound is, he adores it. The sound of your voice once made his heart race with glee, but this… This is different.

It’s so much more.

This is joy. Unbridled and unashamed and so clearly you. It’s your laughter, your glee, your happiness that sinks beneath his sin and lights his nerves on fire. It’s your smile and your giggles that make his heart swell. Yeosang adores it. He adores you.

He cannot help the way he slides off the driftwood log and into the sand at your side. Yeosang is pulling you into his chest before you can question his actions. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls your head into his neck, pressing you as tight to his chest as he possibly can.

“You’re laughing…” he whispers as he huffs in disbelief. “Bug! You’re laughing!”

The second time Yeosang utters the phrase, it’s shouted cheerfully as he squeezes you tight into his chest. His heart thumps brazenly beneath his ribs, and he can feel the pulse of yours against his own. You giggle again, wiggling to readjust yourself as you sink into the honey of his embrace. Yeosang’s heart trills excitedly again.

Yunho’s head darts upwards from the beach, startled by Yeosang’s call.

“What?”

San hears Yunho’s whispered disbelief and stands from the surf, attention drawn over towards you and Yeosang. “What did he just say?”

“It’s Bug,” Hongjoong answers, standing behind Yunho with his eyes blown wide. His heart stutters once in his chest as he takes in the sight of your shoulders shaking gently with your giggles. He can’t hear the sound of them, but Gods does he wish he could. “Bug’s laughing.”

“Holy shit…”

Yunho takes off from the beach without another word. He doesn’t even hear who curses.

Sand kicks up from his feet as he sprints towards you and Yeosang with his heart in his throat and a watery grin on his lips. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that San is the one on his heels. Yunho knows the sound of San’s muffled sobs just as well as he knows the beat of his heart. Wooyoung is not far behind, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips and a chain missing from his wrist. Nothing binds him to that place anymore. You set him free.

Hongjoong and Mingi chase after the others, and the Captain manages to get some revenge for the day before as he shoves his guard into the surf on the way. Hongjoong’s mirthful chuckles as Mingi shouts are heard when Jongho pulls Seonghwa behind him, urging the archer to move faster.

“Bug!”

Your head pulls from Yeosang’s neck, that toothy grin still on your face just as Yunho collides with you and the honey-haired healer. The two of you sway as Yunho’s weight sinks into your figures, but Yeosang sets an arm down into the sand to support you. The black and white strands of San and Wooyoung’s hair drip with salt water as they throw themselves onto Yunho’s lap with a shout. Mingi follows just after, likely having passed Hongjoong on the beach with the length of his strides. He shakes his wet hair as he clings onto Yunho’s back and Wooyoung complains despite the fact that he’s already soaking wet. The giggly sound of Mingi’s laughter makes you chuckle again.

You laugh, as if it’s as easy as breathing.

Yeosang watches, his eyes welling with happy tears as he continues to cling onto you with one hand. He watches you giggle and the others pile into your space and listens to his new favorite sound.

Gods, he adores you. He adores them – this family.

Yunho is crying, his lip wobbling as he buries his head into your hair. He’s at your back, chest shaking with the sound of his watery sobs.

“Tiny…” he cries, but it’s a happy weep. You reach around to cling onto one of his hands. Yunho squeezes you tight, stealing the air right from your lungs, but you don’t need it. You would happily breathe in the pure euphoria of this moment instead. “Tiny, you’re laughing.”

San buries his wet hair into your lap with a joyful sound and the giggles commence again. The healer’s heart throbs so strongly but so pleasantly he thinks it will burst. You have a laugh that makes others laugh with you. Just like Wooyoung, he realizes.

Your other hand drops from Yeosang’s back to brush through San’s hair once and the healer looks up at you with glimmering half-moon eyes and a dimple poking out of his cheek. You allow your finger to poke the sweet little spot this time. His cheek muscles ache from how big his smile is. San nuzzles closer to your stomach and you let yourself shiver pleasantly, far too happy to deny yourself the joy of this moment.

You’re pretty, San thinks to himself. So pretty. Especially when you laugh.

Wooyoung melts into Hongjoong’s side and the Captain wraps an arm around his shoulder. They stand just behind Yunho, burying their happy tears into each other as Seonghwa pulls them close. Mingi and Jongho sink into the sand behind Yunho and pull each other tight. The taller guard squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips into Jongho’s forehead, desperately hoping all his adoration is conveyed through the kiss. Jongho reaches out to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder and rests his weight against his elder’s back.

“I know,” you finally whisper into the space that separates you and Yunho. “I’m happy.”

One hand lifts to pull the mask away from your face. Without a moment’s hesitation, your nimble fingers detangle the knot from behind you, and you drop the obsidian mask into the sand. A hand wraps around your fingers when you finally let it go. Someone draws a line along the length of your left ring finger and twines their fingers with your own. They squeeze three times.

You repeat the gesture, tracing a finger down the fourth finger on their left hand, right over the thin, dark band you know is tattooed there. You squeeze their hand three times. This sign needs no translation.

You open both eyes.

“I’m so happy.”

bonus:

stranger: so who would you choose; ateez or–

reader: ateez.

stranger: you didn't even let me finish, ateez or–

reader, not missing a beat: ateez. I choose ateez.

a/n: This currently takes place sometime after the main storyline (probably xD) so it accounts for the boys knowing parts of Bug’s past (not revealed but it’s mentioned they know). For now, I won't consider these oneshots canon simply because I won’t know where it fits in the timeline HAHA xD this is essentially just a little bit of fluffy comfort for those who have been missing Bug and the boys! I’m catching up on their story but I hope you enjoy this filler for now <33 ALSO disclaimer, don’t pick stuff out of tide pools! my marine biologist family is screaming at me for including that xD just leave the creatures alone in their habitats!

sorry if bug seems a little ooc here! Loren and I have decided that bug goes from black cat energy to golden retriever after enough time with atz :’))) This is supposed to take place sometime in the future where she’s healed a little more and is a little more curious and open. There are a lot of references to things that have yet to happen in ltm so this is kind of a teaser for those xD

also shoutout to the loml @eightmakesonebraincell for the majority of the ideas in this :D she's a real one xD

taglist: *If you don't see your name on this taglist, you may have been removed if your tag doesn't work :( let me know if you don't see your name and I'll try to see what we can do to fix it :D

@verseoks @smallfrye @istgcyj @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow @kpopnightingale @rielleluvs @queentiti72 @paralumanniluna @chittaphonstar @dear-dreamie @bangtanxberm @havetaeminforbreakfast @knucklesdeepmingi @pingyu-in-wonderland @5sos-wdw @atzcoke @ddeonghwva @sophxom @khjcoo @sunukissed @becauseiloveyunho @atinymonbebestay @goldenstarmermaid @simplyaghostsworld @multifandomizer @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @revehosh @mysticfire0435 @side-angel @taestrwbrry @billboard-singer @jenseok17 @parkthothwa8 @jcngh0-hq @dream-in-progress @dees-writing-corner @frankenstein852 @darkdayelixer @ateezkeepmysoul @maruskz @ahhhhhhhhhghh @honeyhotteoks @simeonswhore @jxxngieteez

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the-midnight-blooms · 3 months ago

Text

from the artist's studio | cs

pairing: painter!choi san x painter!reader AU: historical au, joseon dynasty word count: 10.5k

masterlist

I reach out to my lover, he’s trapped within a painting. The muse of a Renaissance artist- he’s so divine he may have even started the movement.

Her feet pattered down the cold floorboards, pushing through the salmun doors-the fabric of her purple hanbok bunched up in her palms. The midnight bloomed in the depth of the spring, where the cherry blossom trees roared with the wind. A captivating beam from the candle paved the way to the front doors, her heart lurching in her chest as she felt an enchanted soul beckoning her name; her vessel bowed in his essence as if the rapping of the door knocker was to the beat of her name, echoing every syllable. With her hand outstretched for the doors, she hauled it open finding a man whose eyes were squinting as the the coarse rain battered against his supple skin; his teeth chattering with the cold. With a brown leather bag sloped over the shoulder of his light yellow hanbok; hands gripped steely over the handle of his heavy cases. He was tall, with broad shoulders, she quickly discerned but his face almost seemed obscured by the dark clouds and the night slowly filtering into the star studded sky.

"Please, Miss, I'm here to see Mr Yim. I'm a new apprentice at the local government office." His voice was almost mellowed by the crash of thunder against the sky, which had them both flinching at its mercilessness. A surge of relief rested upon him as a slender arm in purple outstretched towards him; the warmth easing the shattering goosebumps bestowed upon his delicate skin. With a contented sigh, the figure in front raised the candle to his face; the soft glow illuminated his crescent eyes which bored into another's burgeoning with curiosity.

"Your name, Sir?" Her honey like voice, slid into his ears; lashes gently fluttering as he breathed in the sight before him the beaming light from the candle forging a halo around this angel. Her tight jaw and deadpan expression was immediately dissolved between the influx of enigma that flooded into her eyes.

"Choi San." Nodding diligently, she gesticulated for him to follow her to her father's study. The hallways of the Yim estate were particularly large, a few candelabras were perched on top of the drawers plastered across the panelled walls-the smoke infiltrating into the empty space. They graced the floor with minimal sound, as if there were ghosts traipsing the corridors rather than real people.

Stood outside the large door, she dipped her head in politeness as he gently caressed the lumber; soft knocks restituting off the walls. With the candle perched within a hand of his own, yet another door opened; the esteemed artist tumbled through the doorway into another life.

Just over two decades ago, on a winter night, where the trees were bare of crisp leaves and the ground was brazen with purest of snow; a couple sat by the fire in their bedroom: a new-born cherub encapsulated within her mother's arms. Mr Yim, the father of the child, was a member of a group of scholars who advocated the need for the government to foster commerce, industry, and technology. He was a part of one of the four schools of thought in Joseon that shifted from speculative theory to attending to more taxing socio-political issues. Therefore, despite being renown for his hard work, and steadfast nature, he was also known for being quite reserved- to put it nicely. There were no 'good mornings' or 'good afternoons' from Mr Yim. Nor were there dirty looks and unwelcoming mannerisms bestowed upon his acquaintances. He liked to keep to himself, Mrs Yim being the only woman in the world capable of seeing that man smile.

"Would you like to hold her, dear?" His wife called, the gentle babbling of his child sending a jolt of fear rushing through him. Eagerly, he dismissed the opportunity, to which Mrs Yim had sighed staring down at her beautiful daughter. "She is your daughter, too. You're going to have to hold her at one point."

"I'll hold her when she is a little older than what she is now."

"Before you know it, she will become a woman and you will reminisce all the opportunities you had to cuddle her when you could." Truthfully, Mr Yim was afraid of fatherhood; he never really understood the notion of it but if having a child would make his darling, Mrs Yim, happy then Mr Yim would give her all the children in the world. How could he raise a child when he was left to raise himself? What could he even teach except say to his daughter after every stumble, every mistake, every stutter, every cry for help but: 'find your way'?

Thus, his aloof nature extended to his daughter, who having been pinned by her mother's side until her unfortunate death, became wholly estranged from her father. He was no longer her mother's husband, but rather just a kind stranger who fed her, clothed her, kept her under his roof and gave her almost anything she wanted.

Miss Yim was rather bizarre.

Or at least, that's what the townspeople thought through her poignant introvertedness; maintaining scant friendships, rejecting all marriage prospects almost immediately preferring the confines of her large quarters-which in themselves were situated in the segregated division of the family home. Her rooms were not bright, but panelled with a dark wood that foremost created a dull atmosphere, there was minimal light other than what streamed in through the open doors and windows that overlooked the vast lawn. A porch ran around the whole building, where Miss Yim frequented, all year round, as she drew.

Oh! The most compelling thing about Miss Yim was that in contrast to her academic father, she had particularly excelled in the arts, often taking on commissions from local noblemen requesting venerated portraits of their wives. As well as the opportunity to put her skills to practise, she saw it as a way of putting a few extra pennies in her pocket. In alignment with her reserved nature, Miss Yim found that she preferred to draw using defined, darker mediums such as charcoal, ink and graphite pencils. There was something so true about the loneliness that could be felt from the intricate brushstrokes as the ink spilled across the page. As if the figurines were her, simply founded to be a mere prop in a large frame.

Smoothing down the hairs on her head, she snapped away her gaze from the mirror to the window overlooking the side of the garden, the silhouette of the hanok roofs, carving elegantly into the sky. The trees rocked and the grass rippled with the pending ferocity of the wind. Indeed, the storm would not subside within the next few days. The door to her bedroom slid open, the older maid stumbled in settling the tray upon her bench.

"Will I not be eating with my father today?" Ina looked up from where she was kneeled on the floor, settling the bowls onto the bench.

"Mr Yim is currently accompanied with Mr Choi. Your father requested that you eat by yourself for the duration of his stay, you know how it is." Nodding, she took her seat opposite Ina patiently awaiting for the maid to stop assembling her dishes in a neat line in front of her. Whilst women typically dined by themselves, her father had allowed her to eat with him almost daily; except when there were guests. Despite his neglect towards his daughter, he still valued her feminine dignity and did not trust the vulturous eyes of men that rested their predatory gaze upon her.

"Who is this, Mr Choi, and how is it that I wasn't aware of his arrival until he was knocking on our door?" She questioned, Ina's careful gaze flickered to her before staring out into the open space in contemplation.

"A new apprentice. He’s appointed here, on request of his father." Leaning forward, Ina's voice dropped an octave. "Apparently his father says he's been 'engaging in sin' so he's been estranged from his parents until he gets his act together." Raising a questioning brow, she looked down at her bowl.

"Is he a homosexual?" Immediately, she was wacked on the back of her head by the older maid who didn't miss a single second in scolding her. Her hand sped to the back, rubbing the jolt of pain that seared through her, a temporary look of irritation glazed over her eyes.

"You insolent girl! How could you say such thing, you know how disgraced that is!"

"You said ‘engaging in sin'. I can't think of anything more sinful other than fraternising with men or women." Ina's dirty look penetrated through her bones, provoking a sense of humiliation that would rattle through her in the depth of the night. Scowling at her mistress, she rolled her eyes before getting up from the floorboard.

“Hurry up and eat your food. You need to go to Mrs Kang’s today." Following Ina's orders she gulfed down her food, drowning out the maid's muttering about her being crude and dishonourable.

The light chatter from the front room fell deaf at her ears as she sauntered to the entrance, which the two kitchen maids scuttled in through. Bowing at their mistress, they made a fowl attempt at suppressing a fit of giggles as they subtly snuck a glance into the room. Following their gazes, she warily traipsed in, catching her father converse with their new guest.

"Ah, speak of the devil! Mr Choi, this is my daughter." He teared his gaze away from his mentor to draw his eyes across the room and find the infamous Miss Yim perched by the doorway, gripping onto her onto the full skirts of her dark blue hanbok.

It was hard to deny that Mr Choi was amiable. He was tall, well-built with a toned torso that was still perceptible through his uncreased peach coloured hanbok, dimples adorned his perfectly structured cheeks. He nodded with such elegant eagerness, at her father's command harbouring the position of an obedient son, almost leaving her wondering what was so 'sinful' about that man in the first place? What could he have possibly done so wrong that he had practically been disowned by his family?

"Miss Yim, it's nice to formally meet you." She gave him a polite nod, choosing to stay silent than say something and be met with her father's harsh stare.

"Mr Kang told me you've been over at his home, a few times." Her father spoke breaking the awkward meeting. A breath became lodged in her throat as she anticipated some sort of wrath, after all Mr Yim was supposed to be oblivious to her going out and painting other women for a light commission. She didn't exactly know how he would react to that. "He appreciates your help with Mrs Kang's pregnancy." Mrs Kang is pregnant? That would explain the engorging belly, the mood swings and the other number of odd behaviours that she was listing off in the past few weeks she had been challenged with drawing the difficult woman. At times, Miss Yim thought she ought to have more empathy, it wasn't that she lacked it, it was that she tended to not gift her empathetic abilities to the prejudiced. It was women like Ina, and the cooks that worked in the kitchen that deserved her compassion. Women who strived to be breadwinners, even if it was due to poor socio-economic circumstances. Because women like Mrs Kang were hypocrites to be preaching the old values, pre-Confucianism, when they neglected their own sex.

"Yes, she's been enjoying my company. I intend to go again to deliver herbs she’s asked from Ina’s garden.” She recalled glancing down the extensively large page, as Mrs Kang moaned and groaned when the servants were too late to serve her namul and kimchi.

"Red raspberry leaf, dandelions, echinacea." Grimacing, she looked over her sheet to give the woman a look. "You can just get this from the market, why do you need this from Ina's garden?" Mrs Kang simply pouted rubbing her belly. Now that she thought about it, how did it not occur to her that she was pregnant? Perhaps it was because they begged to slim down her figure in the painting.

"Fresh herbs are good for babies." Were the herbs from the market not fresh enough for her? “I need them picked before they’re here.”

"Perhaps I should add lemon balm to burn that fat." A discourse of exasperated gasps rippled over the room, Mrs Kang waddled out of the room wailing for her husband. It was ruthless and unkind, keeping the unsympathetic Miss Yim awake at night before she travelled back to the Kang estate to see a very unhappy couple.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Kang. You’re beautiful just the way you are, even more with the little belly.” The pregnant woman’s tight grip around her neck, as they hugged, almost choked her to death.

Mr Yim's eyes outcasted through the doorway, there was a light patter of rain yet the howl of the wind had subsided significantly. He let out a small hum before returning back to the young pair staring, ardently, back at him.

"I say Mr Choi, should be your chaperone. It's a little unsafe to be going out by yourself." Before she could open her mouth and argue, her father held out a hand to silence her thoughts. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she nodded once more, before dashing from the room to have a flustered Mr Choi following her.

Hitching up her skirts, she trudged through the field, the sun had filtered into the sky radiating its essence onto the young souls as they surpassed the reams of houses. Had it not been for the joyous discord of infantile laughter, it would have been quiet; San mustering the courage to initiate a conversation. He cleared his throat, she merely blinked at his futile attempt at grabbing her attention.

"Miss Yim, you must slow down I can't keep up with your pace." He declared, striding faster towards her, the tall grass brushing against his knees.

"I think you can cope, Sir. Your legs are longer than mine." Walking through the grass wasn't difficult but when her hanbok was floor length, lifting up the heavy fabric proved tiresome and not to mention her shoes were sinking into the muddy fields, squelching miserably under her heavy steps. Eventually, San matched her pace as they made their way up the steps to the Kang estate.

A shrill voice eructed into the airs, the domestic staff worked at a proficient speed as they amended the damages inflicted from the storm. As a group of servants raised the logs from the path, San ran to their aid significantly lightening their work load. His charity had left her silent contemplating her initial thoughts on his persona. There must be something impure under all that. Surely? There had to be some reason why his father practically disowned him.

Kang Yeosang stood by his front doors, watching as his staff worked the lawn and through the large home. He sought the enigmatic painter launch up the steps, with an unreadable look painted on her face.

“Good Morning, Miss Yim.”

“Morning, Yeosang.” She greeted, he laughed a little at her dull tone.

“I take it, there’s nothing particularly good about this morning.” He jeered, she huffed at his characteristically exuberant manner.

“Not when my father’s spy is here to be my chaperone.” She turned around on the steps, the pair looking down at San moving the heavy logs from the path, dirtying his robes at that. “He’s the new apprentice at the local office, Choi San, I think he said his name was.”

"Oh, the country boy." Country boy? "He's from Yangdong, have you not heard? His family is amongst the richest, they're both scholars and farmers, now." Across the country, Joseon farming techniques had taken a turn within the last few decades, especially with the establishment of irrigation and rice transplantation methods- bringing Joseon to a state of flourishment. It was safe to say, which farmer wasn't rich now? The admirable farm boy was pushed away by the servants, making his way up the steps. Leaving him with Yeosang, she made her way in the direction of the couples' shared quarters, Mrs Kang draped over her bed, her wrist dramatically resting on her forehead.

"Hello, Mrs Kang." The woman jolted up from her seat, an obnoxious groan emitted from her as she propped her back up against the wall. "I brought you your herbs."

"Thank you, my love. You left your paints, they're just on my dressing table." The herbs were exchanged from her paints, digging into the pockets of her hanbok. The older woman began to natter, the discordant tonality rattling in her ears. Mrs Kang loved to talk. Even if it was about absolutely nothing, that woman talked for the whole of Joseon.

I'm leaving this place with a headache.

She often wondered how it was that Yeosang put up with his insufferable wife. Was it love, or a promise that he had made to Mrs Kang's parents that he would never leave her? The thought made her sigh in pity- to be permanently bound to someone in matrimony seemed like too much effort at times. Perhaps the effort itself is what subdued her mother to misery, the poor Mrs Yim eagerly handing her soul to the Angel of Death. Or maybe Miss Yim had possessed a stone-cold heart frozen over by the neglect of life's intimate essence; overpowered by a sense of maturity held over by her mother's early death. She took it upon herself to make it clear that by the time she was thirty, if there was no proposal that had come around she was going to wholly abandon the idea of marriage and work herself to death.

"That man is so pretty." She spoke, dreamily, Miss Yim's eyes lazily fled in the direction of Mrs Kang's. Her head poked through the doorway where both Yeosang and San were travelling down, engaging in intelligent discourse. "Not Yeo, the other one." The pregnant woman clarified.

"He's ok, I suppose. Not bewitching enough to tempt me."

"That has to be the biggest lie I have ever heard."

"What is Miss Yim lying about now?" Yeosang provoked as both men entered the room. Both women shared a look before the painter slumped onto the dressing table chair. "I suppose you're awaiting your payment."

"Well, my services aren't free." She declared, pompously. Yeosang rolled his eyes before he moved to the opposite end of the room, San had almost drawn his body out of the bedroom, a little embarrassed as the pregnant Mrs Kang ogled her eyes at him. Stretching her limbs, she got up taking the velvet bag. "Thank you, Mr Kang. I'll visit when the baby arrives."

His perfection had her repleted with such distaste for him. Simply put, Miss Yim hated Choi San because he was loved by all. Her father loved him, Ina adored him, the maids were constantly drooling over him it shot her with a sense of annoyance. He quickly became a household name, spoken of when he was at the office with her father and even when he was at home. Everywhere she went it was just him, him and him. The worst thing was, was that he was even trying to be nice to her prevailing through her grim looks and hard words.

“San this, San that. Honestly, he’s not even as esteemed as everyone claims, Ina. He’s just a man, like every other man. And all men are the same. So what if he's good looking, does that suddenly make him god’s greatest gift?” Burying her face into the pillow, an exasperated huff escaped her lips. Ina fell onto her bed, reaching her arms out to stroke her mistress’ back. With a contented sigh, she felt her eyes drooping a little as the maid's soft caresses were gently lulling her to sleep. Her touch felt like that of her mother's, soothing the aches of her heart whilst simultaneously provoking the nostalgia of a mother's love. To have her mother again, to have that woman encircle her into her arms. Rock her back and forth. She longed for her mother's scent again, often chasing the whiff of her familiar saccharine redolence as one chased butterflies in an open field.

“Yet you think of him often. He occupies your thoughts as much as he occupies ours.”

“Hardly, I-,” She stammered in a desperate attempt to recollect her thoughts into a single ambience. “I envy him. How is that he steps into this home for a second and I see my father smile?” Ina’s face dropped, a breath caught in her throat as her mistress spoke aloud the forbidden words she denied her staff to even breathe. The older maid had been rendered silent for too long, giving Miss Yim all of the answers she needed to press forward with her wistful assumptions.

"Perhaps if you grew to understand him, you would know why your father has inhabited such emotions for him. Think of him like a son-in-law. He will love him but not as much as he loves you." The maid reasoned.

"Then that makes him my husband." She grumbled, pulling the duvet over her shoulders.

"Now is that so bad?” Ina teased, before pulling her weight off the bed. With no strength to argue, her eyes fluttered to a close; her soul being dissolved by the night.

The following morning, it was too cold to be even sitting on her porch and with eyes tired of the same dreary scene, she ventured out of her quarters, delving into parts of the home she had missed. By the kitchens, the late Mrs Yim had reserved herself a small room decorated with the tools of all her hobbies in order to enact time alone for herself, away from motherhood and social responsibility. The room was consistently cleaned but usually left empty having it being full of painful memories of the beloved mistress of the household. For the first time in a long time, Miss Yim had felt the drive to find the room again and read her mother's poetry she had spent hours pouring over in the rooms.

Yet it had been almost shot stone-cold dead when the door opened to find San sat by the window hands raised towards the canvas. The anger within her refused to simmer or boil, it was rather the smooth swaying of the soft waves lapping the crust of sand. Her hands feebly reached for the poetry book on the table.

"I didn't know you were a painter, Mr Choi." She proclaimed, her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes sought the intricate details on the canvas. Her eyes glossed over the colours, the succinct shapes, drawing on the brushstrokes herself with the sharp movements of her eyes. It moved her. When was the last time she had been left this breathless?

"You never asked, Miss Yim." Immediately she felt intimidated by his artwork, her own revered drawings felt meek in comparison to his. A mere apprentice in an important official’s presence. To even be this close to him was considered a blessing. "You can sit next to me. I don't bite." Tentatively, she drew closer seating herself on the floorboards next to him; the brush of their fabrics sending a tidal wave of timidness over her. Where was the bold, steadfast Mrs Yim? Long gone, lost to the large expanse of the sea. Drowning under the ocean of his perfection. She didn't even want call for help, allowing herself to be enveloped by his allure. You draw so beautifully, she wanted to say. It's perfect, like something-someone even.

"You should have been a royal painter." The remark was swallowed into a melancholic void within his heart. Sparing a glance, he dipped the tip of the paintbrush into the crevice of the cerulean blue paint before raising to illustrate the canvas.

"Don't say that to my father." She sought the gloom glossed over his brown eyes. Was he, too, held down by social responsibility and expectations? She didn't think it was possible for a man's dreams to be mauled over by society; for she saw it with her father who had the whole world at his feet-picking dreams as if he was picking daisies from a meadow. Dropping her book onto the floor, she rested her head on her knee, solicitude fulfilled the serene atmosphere. Her eyes fell over the fancy metallic pots situated around the easel, which she knew to be various colours of paint pigments. Resting her head on her knee, she tenderly rocked her body from side to side as she watched his hands elegantly work through the canvases.

"Did you ever consider pottery? That's supposed to be quite popular now." Her question breaking through the quiet airs, the delicacy of her voice startling San. It was devoid of boredom, or disinterest like he had always perceived. No lace of judgement like he was silently praying to be diminished from her soul.

"It'll grow out of popularity soon." He stated, resting the paintbrush down to exercise the tense muscles in his hands. "I heard this was the late Mrs Yim's room, I hope you don't mind me being here." It, too, came as a shock to her when she shook her head-with no care in the world that he had colonised the room that she was once sure was hers.

It was sunny for once, which was odd for this time of year-she thought throwing open the door to the porch finding San surrounded by a large number of logs and an axe.

"What's he doing outside?" She pondered, Ina folding up the washed bedsheets before tucking them away into the drawers.

"They stopped properly chopping up the logs so we can use them for the fire, so Mr Choi offered to help." Wandering out through the doors, a smooth current of air tousled her hair, a book held tightly against her chest.

God, he really was toned. Rolling up the sleeves of his hanbok all the way to his bulging biceps, the maids all stopped in their path to rest their elbows on the low garden wall overseeing the vast expanse of grass. Effortlessly he picked up the axe, raising it over his head to slice down the log of wood. She rolled her eyes at her maids, as they watched him with dreamy faces. They nattered in hushed tones, giggling amongst themselves unbeknownst that their mistress was stood behind them. Leaning down to where they were sat on the garden wall, she poked her head in between the sea of charmed maidens.

“What are we looking at?” They squeaked, jumping up from their seats upon sight of their mistress- flapping their hands as some rushed back into the kitchen and others tended to garden duties. “Well? I would like to know too.”

“You wouldn’t understand Miss Yim.” Yes, yes she was the narcissistic Miss Yim who harboured no feelings for men and couldn’t deduce their charming airs. She was the Miss Yim who rejected countless marriage proposals, not based on looks but merely because she found that no man possessed the kind quality in a man that she was seeking. No patience, no loyalty. They were not even ruled by a sense of ambition. So how could she be hypnotised by the sacred beauty of a man, specifically, Choi San.

“Yes, I don’t understand why you’re not doing the job that we’re paying for you to do. All of you, out of the garden, it’s already been tended to!” She shouted, in an instant all of the maids dispersed back into the home. Huffing, she slumped onto the garden wall, glazing her ink pen over the defined lines on the page. Occasionally, she’d peer her eyes over the pages at San, tending to the curve of his body, and the horrific cinching of his waist. When he looked to his side, she hastily returned back to her sketchbook, feeling a blush decorate her cheeks as his steady gaze burned into her skin.

“Very accurate, Miss Yim.” Jumping up from her seat, she screeched the pot of ink spilling onto his face and neck. Whoops.

“Oh goodness, I am so sorry. Ah.” She let out a pained sound, battling with her internal conflict as she grabbed his hand rushing them into the direction of the porch that led to her quarters. Powerfully, she slid the door open darting inside and towards the washroom. Hauling him down to his knees in front of the washing basin, with a soaked rag in hand, she scraped away the ink splashed across his face. “Take this off.” She ordered, signalling to his hanbok.

“W-what?” He stammered, his face heating red.

“Well you’ve got ink and dirt all over it. I can get a new one for you.”

“I can’t just return back to my quarters and change?”

“Well no because then my father will see you and he’ll know I stole his ink again.” An annoyed huff escaped from his lips as she handed him the rag to clean himself. “Here, I’ll go get you a spare set of clothes.” Jumping up from where she was kneeled, her foot slipped over a puddle of water his arms snapped out towards her waist. Gripping his shoulders for stability, a faint blush trickled over her face, their noses barely an inches distance.

"Be careful." Quickly unravelling her hands from his shoulders, Miss Yim ran out of the room towards his quarters. Slipping past the double doors, she rummaged through the drawers for his clothes-picking up a light green set.

"Mr Choi?" A maid's voice called out from behind the closed door. Discerning their shadow moving closer, she made a beeline through the open doors leading into the garden. Scuttling into her washroom, she practically launched the hanbok at him before hiding in her room.

A breath of relief had finally escaped from her when he left from her room, both of their faces burning red in the midst of this shameful meeting. Yet San seemed persistent to know her, feeling that there was still something beneath the stone-cold façade she had constructed; something emotional and raw that he had felt he had to know. And Miss Yim was too becoming more curious, by the day, as to what Choi San’s secret was and why his father perpetually hated him.

Ina had forced them to go on a walk together, she groaned, silently, as they left the home behind making their way down to the meadow. At first an odd tranquillity permeated the air, eventually she grew tired of the jarring dissonance of absolutely nothing.

“A penny for your thoughts?” She inquired.

“I’ll keep the penny. I almost feel you’d judge me for having thoughts.” San bemused, she rolled her eyes, a faint of a smile on her lips. Just the tiniest, but it was practically gone within the same second.

“I don’t judge you, Mr Choi. I do, however, envy you. You’ve taken the place I wanted in my father’s heart.” She confessed, he looked towards her sympathetically, with knowingness that she was indeed right and the Mr Yim, famous for being just as aloof as his daughter, had somehow softened a little upon his arrival. Perhaps it was a son that he had always wanted, not a daughter but the scholar was reserved; San being too terrified to pry.

“Your place is best occupied elsewhere. Somebody else has it, I’m sure. He keeps it safe with love that is too potent that even dreamers can’t feign.” Of course was reading her mother's poetry, she didn't think many could understand the abstract nature of her words; of course it was him out of all who admired her poetry as it was his own.

"I am not pretty enough for that." Miss Yim argued, looking down at her feet. After all, the marriage proposals were not because of her vague good looks, but mainly because Mr Yim claimed an abundance of wealth.

"I disagree with you on that." Her face heated with his affirmation.

"Well, I am no Jang Ok-Jeong."

"There are many beautiful women in Joseon, not all of them have ever been recorded."

"She caught the eye of the King, a man who has a kingdom at his feet, he is supposed to be too superior to even look at his subjects. And he looks at her? Is that not a beautiful woman?" They were both fuelled by this argument, the debate igniting a set of powerful emotions that roared within them. This, was what they both deeply felt conversations were supposed to be. Potent discourse about society, literature and art. Not idle chatter on the weather, marriage and the social laws that subdued them.

"A man is supposed to be ruled by his head, not emotions. I say if any man bestowed more than a single glance, on a woman, and his breath was taken away, then she is more gorgeous than Venus herself."

"Not that wretched painting. It's so...vulgar." San snickered, squeezing his eyes as he let out a melodious laughter. "It says so much about the male gaze." She spat out as they trudged through the fields back in the direction of her home.

“I wonder if you like any art, at all? Other than your own?” He questioned.

“Owon is good. Apart from the vulgarity of Renaissance paintings-,”

“Which I must say is the majority of the whole movement, pray, continue.” He teased, his pestering smirk seemed to stitch wings on her heart, for it fluttered at his amiability, his devoutness to mankind and all of its endearing qualities and his perseverance. Despite her uncompromising attitudes and distasteful demeanour, he seemed compliant with listening to her, talking to her, truly trying to understand her and not just turning a blind eye. Choi San truly wanted to know her, for her; and not follow some false allegation that she was devoid of a heart or soul. He commended she had both and they were wrought with an existentialist quality that he wanted nothing but to huddle in the corner of a library and read away his life until it dissolved under the cover of her persona.

"What about you?" She questioned, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her own ear. At once, San was drawn into the world of virtuosity describing each of his favourite pieces as if it could be encapsulated into a single globe. The sweet dissonance of his voice lugging her into a dreamscape as they gently glissaded through the empty hallways of the Yim estate. They sought their eyes over the panelled wall, following the intricate lines of carved wood. They could almost be called mad people loose from the dreaded ward. For their eyes did not see the same way a normal persons did. He saw the shimmer in the air, the light poring through the crevices, the faint blemishes on a skin unseen with a naked eye-too vague to be called a taint, a mark, a scar. And she would see what he saw, whether it was not there she could reach to the depths of her sanity and pour out the image before her eyes to satisfy him.

It became a wonder to her how they spent several nights, the light patter of her feet as she rushed to his quarters with fulfilling arguments over art pieces, sharing techniques, rifling through each other's sketchbooks. His style was a stark contrast to her own: luminous watercolours, velvety acrylic paints, oily crayons. His muses were full of life and wonder, the strokes brimming with fruition. It was if a single segment of his painting held more hope than what could exist in her whole being.

There was something about him, too. She could see it now, his compassion, his adoration. As the weeks spun by, she became less repulsed by his sincerity and opened up to it more, almost finding herself craving his attention. His affection was much welcomed; she often wondered what it would be like to be so loved by him.

In her mother's old drawing room, she found him again, his large hands drifting over the pages again. Peering over his shoulder, she softly blew into his ear; the warmth tickling him.

"What are you drawing?" Her eyes scanned over the cartridge sheet, its intimacy striking her. It looked like her. Every sketch line, every shade, every little detail, every little blemish on her face.

"You." He answered, he didn't dare tear his eyes away from her for her hair was falling down her face in perfect waves that lured him into uncharted depths.

"You drew me so pretty."

"I only drew what I saw." Her heart wavered in piety, his devotion provoking an arrangement of madness. He was going to drive her insane and she was content with it.

"I wonder, what was it that you were excommunicated for?" Her silence broke through the passionate airs, culminating the objectivity that fulfilled among them as his sins held heavy on his tongue.

"I am not a scholar, a farmer or a devout son. I am an artist, a man who sees the world despite all of its maliciousness. I see the world so raw, it almost disgusts me but I am not terrified by its honesty. I find it so beautiful, it belongs on a page: drawn." Her body swayed towards him, hypnotised by his delicate words drawn his intoxicating tenacity, filling her with such immitigable rage that within that severe moment all she wanted was him. "I was 'excommunicated' because I am not the man my father wants me to be. I return as soon as I am devoid of all the emotions he renders vile." Tentatively, her fingers curled through his hair his eyes fluttering shut under her gentle touch.

"What about you Miss Yim? Why are you so solitary?" He murmured, their quiet voices serenaded the room.

"I am not solitary by choice. It's been enforced upon me and I know nothing and no one else but myself." Her whispers, though full of hurt and pain, were seldom dulcet. He thrived himself upon her words alone, it was enough to send him into delirium but her whole unmatched beauty with her words? He was sure to be sent to the wretched institute.

With an envelope gripped in her hands, she made her way over to his quarters slipping into the warmth, his smile greeting her as she slumped onto the chair in front of him.

"Mrs Choi? Your mother?" She inquired, handing over the envelope. San snickered at her nosiness, rolling her eyes as he took the sheet from her grasp, ripping open the seal to reel his eyes down the page.

"Actually, it's my wife." He announced, sparing her a single glance as he continued to read the words sprawled across the page. A sharp pang penetrated through the barriers in her heart, she felt her feet slipping under the ground, the walls pulverising as they caved in on her. For some reason, the room felt much more smaller than it was. Her heart was beating faster than any poetic declaration he had bestowed upon her, any time he had made her feel as if she was truly a worthy soul of being loved. Her heart palpitated faster than when he made her feel she would not die from a cataclysmic loneliness.

"I didn't know you were married." She breathed out, gripping the sage green silk in hand; feeling almost disgusted with herself for fixating her whole being on a man who never belonged to her in the beginning.

"We'll be officially married when I return back home." With a teasing smile on his lips, he grabbed a clean sheet from his desk and began elegantly carving the characters onto the page. "I'll be sure to send you an invite, if you'll come?"

“Of course, I’ll come. You know, for the food.” She quipped, his dimpled smile shattering the months of pining she had set for this revered soul. “I’ll take your leave, San.”

She fled from the room her bare feet blessing the sweet earth, the velvety wisps of the wind taunting her as tears welled up in her eyes. With a breath hitched in her throat, she fell onto her bed; bottom lip quivering as pearl tears escaped from her eyes dribbling down her cheeks before splattering onto the bedsheets. Her painful howl terrorised the desolate quarters as she had done on several dispassionate nights, the skies mimicked her torment, the light patter of rain hit against the window as if it understood all her wretched emotions. As if it understood her anger, hatred and hurt. As if it understood how disgusting it felt be left vulnerable by a man who could never be hers.

Was it some false delusion that she had been seduced by? That he, who was carved from a sculpturers most wild emotions, by all of his tenacity and his violent rage that he wished to create a being made of light: could truly be hers? By his yearning and pent up sentiment, by his dying wish that this world was not at peace until some divine figure from a concealed land would touch her world? Her hands shook as she sought to remove the tears streaming endlessly down her face. After all it had now made sense to all of the sympathetic souls that had heard her be plunged through such pain, to read her tale and understand the reason for her aloof nature.

Up the walls went back up. Brick by brick.

Curse you, Choi San, for breaking them down in the first place.

San had not seen Miss Yim for the remainder of the week or the subsequent. Granted, he had been flooded with an overwhelming amount of work but such was to be expected with the incredible staff shortage and Mr Yim’s high expectations. Regardless, he missed the snarky comments and unrelenting stares from across the room. He missed her moodiness, how ever infuriating it was at times; he missed the sense of quietude she presented at his feet and its ability to render his mind numb. Overall, he missed her. Yet, she seemed to be nowhere in sight and in fact missing even under the cover of the night.

“Ina, do you know where I can find Miss Yim?” He questioned, the agony rupturing the sutures of his weak heart apart.

"In her room, Mr Choi. She's, specifically, requested not to see anyone." Oh. His mood deflated after that concession, wracking his mind for all the things he had said in their last engagement; anything potentially hurtful or offensive but he didn’t recall anything particularly endangering. His quest to venture into her quarters, despite her ruthless commands which had the servants petrified over her uncharacteristic (but not abnormal) behaviour, had been cut short by Mr Yim’s desire to keep a tightened hold on the apprentice. He thought about bringing it up as he ate dinner with his mentor.

“How is Miss Yim? I heard she’s isolated herself in her quarters?” He raised, tentatively, as Mr Yim’s eyes scoured down the reports. Her father was a little too quick to dismiss her actions.

“Never mind her, that’s not something new. I was surprised she was even roaming around the house when you arrived…” Mr Yim trailed off as a thought infiltrated his mind, shutting the book close, his furrowed brows silenced the questions in San’s mind.

The moonlight spilt in through the window, the luminous shadows dancing with the light breeze. With dried tear tracks staining her puffy cheeks, she circulated her finger around the cotton sheets pulling up the heavy duvet over her shoulders, a trail of heat comforted her. The door to her room, silently, slid open; oblivious to the soft bustling of footsteps she stretched her limbs sitting up in her bed.

“Miss Yim?” Her head snapped up at the deep voice, its familiarity sending an agonising wave of heartache through her being. There he was, the perpetrator himself, settling in front of her with a teacup in his palms as if nothing had happened in the first place. “Are you ok? I know you don’t like echinacea, so I got you lemon and ginger tea.” Placing the tea cup on her night stand, he rested his palm against her forehead.

“What are you doing here, San?” Huffing, she fisted up the hair in her palms before sticking a dry paint brush through it to create a tight knot.

“You’re burning u- were you crying?” His finger lightly smoothed her damp skin, shaking her head she pushed his hand away from her face. God, she felt awful for his wife who had to endure his infidelity. “What’s wrong, jagiya, speak to me?” Biting down on her lower lip, Miss Yim threw her gaze out of her window, she sought the light shimmering as her vision blurred.

“Just leave, please.” There was no more hostility left in her tone, a coarse throat lacerated with the phlegm that built up from endless nights of sobbing herself to sleep. Tiredness gnawed at her, she just wanted to dissolve back into the covers. Pleading, begging she’d do whatever she could to force him to leave because if he didn’t then she would tear down the path to the Angel of Death and beg him to take her dwindling heart. On her knees she would go, for the mere sight of her lover crumbled the steadfast walls she had tried so hard to rebuild.

“Are you upset because I’m going home next week? If that’s the case-,”

“San, are you dense?” She interrupted. He was subjugated to silence, a look of hurt flashing over his face. “Leave means leave.” Adjusting her body so she could slide under the covers, she stridently hauled the fabric over her head, gripping her lips tight shut, so no more pitiful sobs escaped her and she was no more a servant to his cruel love.

The Yim estate was left with a melancholic air as the venerated bachelor made his preparations to leave the home. The maids were forlorn as they’d no longer have the privilege of seeing his striking face to bless their monotone days. Miss Yim had finally mustered the courage to take a stroll through the garden, avoiding San's quarters at that. Lingering by the flowers, she wrapped her arms around herself to manifest a sense of warmth that failed to prevail with the awful weather. She didn't notice her lover tear down the garden to her, his heart leaping within his own chest.

"Miss Yim?" Her body whipped around upon his words, her hands balled up into fists the anger displaced by fear. "Do you know how painful it has been for me to go days without seeing you? I am leaving for Yangdong, today, and god knows if I didn't even so much as see your face I would have gone feral."

"I- why?" She stuttered, at a desperate attempt to collect together her words and form a sentence. How and when did he culminate such passionate feelings for her?

"Why? Isn't it obvious? I am in love with you." He declared, she shook her head, profusely, at him.

"How can you say that?" Her voice raised an octave, parrying against the harsh winds that blew at them.

“If being in love with you is a deadly sin, then I am the greatest sinner there is. I will walk up to the gates of hell and open them myself. Hand over my arms and ask them to bound me to its greatest depths.” His chest heaved up and down, tears brimming at the front of her eyes. “I cannot live without you. I would not even do so much as breathe unless you asked me to. If you asked me to stop breathing, I would!”

“You’re a married man, San. Do you know how god awful that sounds?”

“I’m barely married but engaged. When I go back home, I will once again beg to not be wed off to her. I don’t love her, how can my father expect me to marry her? How can you expect me to marry her?”

“I don’t think you understand, San. I can’t love you.” His arms outstretched for her waist, hauling her towards him, the rain beating down on them both. With the gentle flick of his finger, her head tipped up to peer into his eyes.

“Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t love me, or even feel as much as a small emotion for me. One word from you, would silence me forever.” She bit furiously down on her lip as his vehement fixation tore through the borders of her soul. When did she fall so vulnerable in his conquest for her being?

“I don’t love you the same way you love me. I am incapable of doing so.” His own brown eyes fulfilled with hot tears, pouring soundlessly down his cheeks. Her heart wavered with misery as he ripped away his grip, stumbling backwards upon her untruth.

“I understand. Thank you, Miss Yim. For the first time in my life, someone saw me for who I really am and not who I am meant to be.” Once again, the thunder cracked against the sky as San turned his back on her striding back into the home. The maids ran out to shut the doors, summoning their mistress back in but she sunk to the floor erupting into a fit of sobs; a wave of shock rattling through them. Her heart burned with such pain, even as Ina cooed lifting her up from the floor to guide her back into the home. Melting into the older woman's arms, her ears drowned out the distant sound of her lover ambling far, far away from her to a land in which even its notion would never grace the depths of her mind.

Her father's office was warm, but not the comforting kind as the biting airs of Joseon persisted. It was more suffocating as they sat across from each other in his office, discussing the state of her future now that he had managed to complete some of burdening tasks at work. He had several proposals lined in front of her, some prospects from his workplace, some from Mr Kang and even Ina had managed to find one or two seemingly agreeable men within their social class. A sigh fulfilled her, it would be a lie to say that she didn't look for the smallest hint of San within them all.

"I'm sorry Father, I don't like any of these men." He closed his eyes in indignation, rubbing his face before collecting the sheets from in front of her and throwing them into the fire. The embers cackled in a slow, seething ferocity as he leaned back in his chair.

"I honestly don't know what to do with you anymore. You won't marry, you won't leave your quarters. You've stopped helping around the house. All you want to do is sit in your room all day and stare into space." He scolded, she shook her head before raising from her seat. "You are becoming a burden to me."

"Well if I am such a burden to you, then just get rid of me." She taunted. An animosity truanted through him at her discourtesy.

“What do you think I have been trying to do since your mother left us? It should have not been your mother that had died! It should have been you! I would trade my soul to have your mother in place of you.” He blurted, before quickly slapping the palm of his hand to his mouth, cursing him for the spoiled words that left it.

“I would trade my soul too, to have my mother where you stand. You are a poor excuse of a man and to call you my father is an insult to me.” She hissed through gritted teeth, the shock reverberating at Mr Yim’s core; the severity of her words pulsating through his blood.

“You shouldn’t have been a father if all I was going to be to you was a pretty doll in a picture. The truth was she didn’t die because she was ill, it was the heartbreak of carrying a whole marriage on her back. It was the fact that you didn’t care about her wants, but your own.”

"You are in no position to say that to me. I loved your mother like it was breathing, I loved her as if she was the greatest blessing, as if God had granted me mercy for all the times I had done him wrong." His chest suspired, brittle hands shaking as a heavy tension remained suspended in the air between them; Ina loitering outside afraid to walk into the war zone.

"But you didn't love me! It was my mother who loved me, and I wasn't allowed to have her! I wasn't my mother's daughter, or my father's. I was a daughter of a servant with my name merely attached to you." At the end of the day, she was the figure in those paintings. Trapped within a frame, four equidistant lines on a piece of cartridge paper, bound by brushstrokes, sketch lines, constricted and held down by the artist. Subservient and stuck to a position in which she could not move.

Mr Yim deserved the brutal honesty of those words, no matter how harsh it was, and with a pounding headache, she ran out of his office ignoring her father’s calls for her to return to his side. This was it, there was nothing and no one by her side now and she was now the destitute figure that she had feared she would become.

“What’s wrong my dear? What’s hurt you so much?” Ina’s soft voice dilapidated at her mistress’ gloom, one she had seen prolong within her late madam too. Squeezing her eyes shut, she summoned the courage to spill her heart to her maid. She told her of how much she adored him, how deeply she wanted him and the ways in which he had made her fall in love with him. And how he had hurt her too.

“So call me heartless and apathetic all you want but I couldn’t take another woman’s man from her.”

“My love.” Ina’s weak fingers travelled through her hair. “You are far from heartless and apathetic. A man who you love is your whole life, you gave your life away to another woman.” She looked over to Ina, falling into her motherly embrace, breathing in her scent. There it was. The same scent that her mother had, the scent she was dreaming to come back to her in the midst of the night, and her a fool to dismiss that it was in front of her the whole time.

“What should I do now?” Her weak inquiry, breaking her heart, sinking deeper into the void than she already was.

“Go back to him and tell him you love him. He is a gentleman who accepts despondency like a soldier. So you, his general, must go back and tell him to return home to you.”

“Ina-,”

“Do not deny yourself of what you deserve. Your mother did, I won’t see you walk the same path.”

“I will let time run its cycle. Time will tell if he is meant to be mine.” She declared, to which the maid rested her palm on her cheek.

Mrs Kang’s baby boy, Kang Minho, was indeed a beauty. His bedazzling little eyes stared up at her in wonder, babbling as she lightly drew the tip of her finger over his chubby cheeks. It was astonishing for Mrs Kang to see that it was merely a little baby that would eruct a smile out of the secluded Miss Yim. It had been about four months since San had left the estate, and a while it took for her to leave the confines of her quarters. Once again, she took requests after requests painting and painting until her hands became stiff and sore. And so even more marriage prospects came, and her eyes lingered slightly over a potential husband. Both Ina and her father were pleased when she stayed a little longer at the doorway of their home talking to one of the young apprentice’s at the office. He was tall, handsome and kind; perhaps it was flickers of San she saw within him that had her thinking that spending the rest of her life with this man: wouldn’t be particularly gruesome. Regardless, she made no firm decision but still, for her father this was significant progress.

“He likes you.” Mrs Kang chimed, grinning down at her baby. She hummed carefully, softly tickling his smooth cheeks.

“Maybe I like him too.” Her gaze lightly flickered to the elated mother. “Where is Yeosang? I didn’t see him on my way in?”

“Oh he’s in his office with San.” Her head snapped up from the baby at the sound of his name. Goodness, how long had it been since she had heard that single syllable name, forever it seemed it would merely reverberate inside her head. “Did you not know he was in town? He came to see Minho.” Shaking her head, she got up from the bed consoling herself.

“I- I think I’ll leave now. I’ll come visit another time.” She announced, before awkwardly patting Mrs Kang’s head; a poor endeavour at affection but for Mrs Kang this affection was whole-heartedly appreciated. Her footsteps sped down the hallways, she came to an abrupt halt at the exist of the Kang estate.

There he was, stood there with Yeosang conversing if they were age-old best friends her heart palpitated with anxiety, knowing that she’d have to walk past him again. The sight of him almost triggered her, she gripped onto her deep purple skirts, his own yellow hanbok beaming like the sun.

“Miss Yim! I didn’t know you had arrived, leaving so soon?” Mr Kang chirped from the door. She shook at her head at him.

“I’ve been here for over an hour and a half. I’ll visit another time, especially since Minho is the only tolerable person in this household.”

“Just say you love him.” A grumble erupted from her lips, she rolled her eyes- with a delicate playfulness- before squeezing past the pair of men. A pounding of footsteps travelled after her as she trudged back through the fields in the direction of her home.

“Miss Yim, allow me to accompany you.” San professed, breathlessly. With a diligent nod, she transgressed forwards ignoring his burning gaze into her skin. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine. What about you?” He responded he was great all the same, reporting that the weather in Yangdong was a little warmer than in her hometown.

“When is your wedding date? I’m still awaiting on an invite.” It was a joke, nonetheless, but one that didn't hesitate to puncture holes in her heart.

“We broke off the engagement, it was mutual really. She was in love with someone else.” With a breath lodged in her throat, her stare tore away from the fields piercing straight into his eyes. It was then she had realised how burdened he truly was. Where was the San that always smiled and joked, and was so full of love it seemed inhumane to have so much of it? They didn't need to say anything to each other in that moment, they stopped walking subsided to a silent, paralysed position. "I think I'll just take your leave." His voice quivered, sending a jolt of agony through her.

Hadn't she made him suffer enough? After all he was the same man who loved her as if she was the vessel that kept the blood running through his veins, his heart beating and his feet walking.

Go back to him and tell him you love him.

Tell him to return back home to you.

His body almost disappeared behind the vast expanse of buildings, when she raced down the fields, as fast as her legs could carry her, ignoring the vicious ache gnawing at her muscles and the agitated pounding of her heart against her chest. Tearing down the path towards him, in the chance that if she didn't run any faster she was going to lose her lover to the wind.

"San!" Her shout echoed in the breeze, but reached to his ears anyway, a tug at the weak strings that had barely held down his soul. He turned, so desperate that she would come to him like she had done in the dead of the night. Feeling his lover crawl into his arms, pledging that she would never leave from his side.

"Miss Yim, what's wrong?"

“I lied to you, when I said I didn’t love you. I really, really do, I almost feel disgusted by it. I never thought, that someone as ruthless and as cold as me would be privileged enough to fall in love but when you entered my life I felt like my mother.” She sucked in a deep breath, her lover making gentle steps toward her as the wind whipped their hair. “I felt like her when she said: ‘If he was the muse in a painting, to be an object, a fleck of paint, or even dust on it would be my greatest honour.’” Warm tears forged in his eyes, biting down his bottom lip to prevent them from escaping. She wanted to outstretch her arms towards him but it was too soon.

“So, Choi San, it’s an honour to be loved by you. I came back, because I had to tell you that. I hurt you so much. I was scared that being vulnerable to love would only hurt me but the only person who gave me such torment was myself.” Her confession disturbed her, yet it was the unspoken truth that only he was entitled to. A tense silence suffused the air as she pended his response, but all he could do was try to convince himself that it was not a dream and she really had said all of the words he had spent countless nights praying that she would declare.

“I love you, Miss Yim. I loved you yesterday, I love you today and I will love you for eternity. There is simply nothing that one can do to tear my heart away from yours, not even you.”

"Do you mean that?" It was a stupid question, but she could not help the words be spilled from her mouth. He nodded violently.

"I do. With my whole entity." Choking back on her sobs, her arms reached out for him throwing them around his neck. Nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck, her grip tightened as he ensnared his hands around her waist; breathing in her scent as if it was oxygen. "Come home with me my dear, come home and be mine."

•••

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

'Yim' meaning light

A/N: the long awaited painter!san fic (with a twist 😏) that i've been waiting too long to put out. I hope you liked this one. :))

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tags: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho

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alxtiny · 2 months ago

Text

Ad Astra per Aspera

Episode 2

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: blood, death threats, more head injury (yay), swearing, storms (idk)

Notes: sorry for the late update T.T I had to go for a two week long workshop and I didn’t get any time to write but i hope you like this chapter :>

Playlist : the emptiness machine by linkin park | smells like teen spirit by nirvana | thunder by imagine dragons

Series Masterlist | Episode 3 | Episode 1

The next morning was bright and full of promise, but you surely weren’t. You woke up aching despite the surprisingly comfortable bed. The throbbing in your head had returned, though not as intense as before, and you groaned as you sat up, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the dull pain. “What will it take for me to relax for once?” you muttered under your breath, feeling the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you.

You dragged yourself to the small basin in the corner of the room, splashing cold water on your face to wake up properly. As the water trickled down your skin, you couldn’t help but yearn for the simple comforts of a home—a soft bed, a toothbrush, clean clothes that weren’t scavenged from a pirate’s stash, it had been way too long to say that you could remember what it all felt like. The ship’s water was salty, leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth as you rinsed, and it made you miss the fresh, clean water you’d taken for granted.

Just as you were wiping your face dry, a knock echoed from the door, followed by the sound of the lock clicking open. You tensed, still not accustomed to the idea that you were on a pirate ship with little to no privacy. You walked over cautiously and opened the door, revealing the burly looking man from the previous night.

Now that you could see him clearly in the bright morning light, you noticed things you hadn’t before. His face, though rough around the edges, had a certain charm to it—too nice for a pirate, you thought, especially with the way his face stretched wide into a cutesy, dimpled smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners, disappearing into crescents as he grinned down at you. If he weren’t a pirate, you would’ve been tempted to pinch his cheeks and call him cute.

“Good morning, Ms. Navigator,” he greeted cheerfully, his smooth voice carrying an unexpected warmth. “Here’s some clothes for you—a sort of gift of welcome you may say, they’re sent by our captain. Get dressed; he wants to see you in his room.”

Before you could ask anything, he turned on his heel and started walking away, his movements smooth and almost silent, like a cat. You called after him, your voice trailing off awkwardly. “Thank you, but…I don’t even know your name. Who are you?”

He didn’t respond, just kept walking, the only sound being the soft padding of his boots against the wooden floor. You watched him disappear around the corner, wondering how someone so large could move so quietly. It was a little creepy, to say the least.

Sighing, you closed the door and latched it from the inside, turning your attention to the bundle of clothes he’d handed you. They were surprisingly nice—an off-white shirt, brown leather pants, and a loose navy cardigan. The simplicity of the outfit was appealing, yet the stitching and the quality of the fabric hinted at something much more expensive than you’d expected from pirates. The clothes looked almost brand new, and you couldn’t help but wonder how and where they had gotten women’s clothes that fit so perfectly. You wondered if the previous owner had died at their hands or something.

Despite your unease, you put the clothes on, surprised once again at how well they fit. The shirt was soft against your skin, and the leather pants hugged your legs comfortably without being too tight. The cardigan was a nice touch, and clearly whoever chose it had a good sense of fashion. You had to admit, you were impressed, but that only made you more suspicious. There was no way this was a coincidence.

Dressed and somewhat ready, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in the captain’s quarters. The memory of casual way he’d spoken about tossing you into the ocean still lingered in your mind, making your heart race with anxiety. You knew you had to be on your guard, but you also knew that you had to play along if you wanted to survive.

With a final glance at your reflection in the small cracked mirror by the bed, you straighten your posture and braced yourself for what was to come. The captain wanted to see you, and you had no choice but to face him—whatever that might entail.

You walked out and saw the tall man waiting for you outside. He reminded you of a beanpole at first but seeing him now made your heart flutter for a moment. His eyes were closed, his head tilted up to the sky as if savouring the warmth of the sun. The golden light fell on his face, highlighting the gentle curve of his nose and the soft shape of his lips. It struck you as odd—how all these pirates were so handsome, each one with features that seemed better suited to a noble’s court than a pirate ship. His relaxed demeanour and perpetual smile made you wonder what had him so amused all the time, and how he managed to maintain such a cheerful facade in a life filled with such horrors and chaos.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence, and awkwardly muttered, “Uh..morning.”

Without opening his eyes, he responded in his usual bright tone, “Ah, I see you haven’t tried to kill yourself yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but reply with a hint of sarcasm. “Even if I did, your captain would probably force me back to life just so he could kill me himself.”

He chuckled at that, a genuine laugh that seemed to fill the corridor with warmth. Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned to face you, his expression softening with amusement. With an exaggerated flourish, he bowed deeply. “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm with an air of mock chivalry.

You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm away, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth despite your best efforts to remain serious. “Lead the way,” you said, shaking your head at his antics.

He straightened up, still grinning, and turned to lead you down the corridor. As you followed him, you noticed that his cheerful demeanour didn’t seem forced; it was as if he genuinely found joy in every little thing, a trait you couldn’t quite understand. Life on a pirate ship didn’t exactly lend itself to happiness, yet here he was, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world. You had decided, this man was definitely a puppy in his past life, perhaps a golden retriever.

As you walked, the sounds of the ship began to filter through the wooden walls—the creaking of the hull, the distant shouts of men working above deck, the rhythmic slapping of waves against the hull. You tried to keep your thoughts focused on the task at hand, but the more you walked, the more your mind wandered back to the captain. There was something that seemed off about him, and those stupid sunglasses he wore even in the darkest of rooms annoyed you. You weren’t sure what kind of man you were dealing with, and that uncertainty tormented you.

Your guide, seemingly sensing your tension, kept up a steady stream of chatter as you walked. “You know, the captain’s not so bad once you get to know him,” he said, glancing back at you with a wink. “Sure, he’s a bit…intense, but he’s fair. He doesn’t waste good talent, and from what I’ve heard, you’ve got plenty of that.”

You scoffed lightly. “I’m a navigator, not a pirate, and where could you have possibly heard about me, for all you know I might be lying.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” he said with a grin, completely ignoring the second part. “On this ship, we’re all pirates. Whether you like it or not, you’re part of the crew now. But don’t worry,” he added quickly, seeing the flash of alarm on your face. “We’re not all bad. Some of us are even quite charming, wouldn’t you say?”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “Is that your way of telling me to trust you?”

He shrugged, his grin widening. “Trust is earned, not given. But I like to think I’m off to a good start.”

Before you could respond, he stopped in front of a familiar door—the one you recognized as the captain’s quarters. The cheery man turned to you, his playful expression softening slightly. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “The captain might be intimidating, but he’s not unreasonable. Just don’t lie…he doesn’t like that.”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. The man knocked on the door, then opened it, gesturing for you to step inside. You took a deep breath, composing yourself, and walked through the doorway, feeling the shroud of the heavy atmosphere settle around you. As the door closed behind you, you were once again alone with the captain, who stood by the large window, the morning sun casting long shadows across the room. It must be his respawn point, you thought to yourself.

He turned slowly, that same unsettling smile pulling at his lips, and you felt an involuntary shiver run down your spine. “Good morning, navigator,” he said, his voice feeling sickly sweet at that moment. “Let’s see what you’re really made of, shall we?” Without waiting for a response, he continued, “Come with me. We must make haste; there’s no time to waste. We need to reach the Northern Aurora Islands within the next three days.”

His sudden urgency surprised you. He walked to the door, pausing just before opening it. “I hope you realise,” he said, his tone low and threatening, “that your position here is as good as temporary. If you put me or my crew in unwarranted danger, you will find yourself meeting your maker sooner than expected.” He let the threat linger in the air for a moment before adding, “And of course, any information we discuss in private stays between us. If I hear a word of it from anyone not involved…” He trailed off, the unspoken consequences clear in his dark look .

He opened the door and gestured for you to go ahead, his eyebrow arched in expectation. With a deep breath, you stepped out into the corridor, feeling his gaze burn into your back as he followed. The two of you made your way up onto the main deck, the bright sunlight forcing you to squint. You noticed that the captain had never once removed his sunglasses. You were tempted to ask about them but thought better of it when you saw the serious, impatient look on his face. Instead, you asked the more pressing question. “Where exactly are we now?”

He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. “You were taken from the slaver ship three days ago, near the Light Marshes. We’re nearing the Dark Marshes now.”

His words made your stomach drop. “I was out for two days?” you exclaimed, horrified.

He chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down your spine. “Yes, we reckoned you might not wake up at all.”

You looked at him, mortified by how casually he joked about your near-death experience. But before you could say anything else, you reached a large door at the end of a corridor. The captain pushed it open, revealing a spacious room that seemed to be some sort of meeting chamber. A large table occupied the centre, its surface scattered with maps, compasses, and various instruments—some of which you had never seen before. Your curiosity piqued instantly, your fingers itching to touch the cool metal and figure out the purpose of each tool.

But before you could act on your impulses, the captain’s hand gripped your shoulders roughly, steering you toward the table. “Sit,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. You obeyed, trying to calm the sudden rush of panic that surged through you when he walked back to the door, closing and locking it with a decisive click. Your flight or fight, mostly flight, instincts were thundering. The sound echoed in the room, setting your nerves on edge.

You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. But your mind was racing with questions—the highlighted question among them being the identity of these men. “Excuse me,” you stuttered, your voice trembling slightly. “May I at least know who you are?”

The captain turned back toward you, his usual grin spreading across his face as he walked closer. “Are you familiar with the name ATEEZ?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

The name sent a cold chill down your spine. Of course, you knew of them. ATEEZ is infamous, a name that struck fear into the hearts of the most seasoned of sailors and even the marines.They had surfaced around six years ago and quickly built up a reputation as the most feared and ruthless pirates in all the seas. The tales of their exploits were legendary—and terrifying. Your eyes widened in horror as you processed the realisation, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to confirm, “Is that really you?”

The captain laughed aloud filling the room. “Yes, indeed,” he said, performing a mocking bow. “Captain Kim Hongjoong, at your service.”

You stared at him, your mouth hanging open in shock, unable to form any coherent response. The horror on your face seemed to amuse him even more, and he was about to say something else when another voice suddenly cut through the tension.

“I’m Yunho!” The cheerful voice was jarring, completely out of place in the heavy atmosphere of the room. You turned toward the sound, your eyes landing on the tall man who had been with you earlier. He was standing in the corner of the room, a wide grin on his face, hands on his hips as he proudly declared, “Jeong Yunho, ship’s engineer!”, he had apparently materialised out of nowhere.

You blinked slowly, your brain struggling to keep up with the situation. Before you could fully process what was happening, you let out a scream, which was quickly muffled by Hongjoong’s hand clamping down over your mouth. “Shh,” he hissed, his face dangerously close to yours. “Calm down, or people might get the wrong idea.”

You nodded frantically, and he slowly removed his hand. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you turned your wide-eyed gaze back to Yunho. “Where the hell did you come from?” you whisper-yelled, your voice shaking.

Yunho chuckled, completely unfazed. “Oh, I was always here. You just didn’t notice me. I was fixing up some tools and stuff. Like I said, I’m the engineer.”

You looked at him in disbelief, finally noticing the welding goggles perched atop his head and the smears of grease and paint on his cheeks. “You could have at least told me you were there!” you snapped. “Made your presence known, maybe?”

He just laughed again, the sound light and carefree, as if you weren’t in the middle of the most terrifying situation of your life. Before you could say anything else, Hongjoong cleared his throat impatiently, cutting off Yunho’s laughter and drawing your attention back to him. His expression was serious once more, and the playful banter evaporated from the room.

“Let’s move on now, shall we?” he said, his tone sharp, silencing the room as you steered yourself towards whatever task awaited you.

He crossed his arms, his sunglasses reflecting the faint light filtering through the room’s small window. “As I said, the Northern Aurora Islands are where we must be in the next three days. There is a man I need to see regarding certain… business. Your task right now is to find the safest and quickest route. Even a day late, and I might miss the deadline.” His voice was low, you could barely catch the latter of what he said.

Your expression grew serious as you switched to professional mode. “The Swartz Peninsula could pose a problem around this time,” you began, examining the maps before you. “The marines usually like to patrol that area, especially with the merchant ships docked for the off-season. We need to find a better way out.” You paused, debating whether to ask the next question or not, but decided to take a chance. “May I ask who this man you’re meeting is? And what’s the deal with the deadline?”

Hongjoong’s pointed gaze flicked to you, his expression hardening. “Those details do not concern you… yet.” The emphasis on the word ‘yet’ was a clear warning. You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it, realising it wasn’t worth agitating him.

He nodded slightly, acknowledging your silence. “You’re correct about the peninsula, but that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To solve these kinds of issues.” There was a rising edge to his voice, a simmering anger just beneath the surface. He didn’t have much in the patience department you figured.

“Yes, sir. I’ll get to work right away,” you replied quickly, sensing the urgency.

“Alright then. I’ll leave you to it,” he said, turning towards the door. “We’ll meet again in the evening. If I don’t see significant progress… well, you already know what could happen.” His words were threateningly calm. He glanced over at Yunho. “Yunho, you’re to assist her today since you have nothing better to do anyway.”

Yunho groaned loudly. “Wait a minute! Who said I didn’t? Hyung, you can’t leave me here with her,” his previously cheerful demeanour shifted into frustration. It was the first time you had seen him express an emotion that wasn’t sheer happiness, and you had to be the reason for it.

But Hongjoong ignored his protests and continued toward the door. Yunho followed behind like a lost puppy, his face pleading. Before Yunho could argue further, the captain quickly opened the door and then slammed it shut in Yunho's face, leaving no space for negotiation.

Yunho sighed dramatically, dragging his long legs and pulling up a chair beside you. He plopped down with a loud huff, his shoulders slumping forward as he grabbed a random map from the table and started unfurling and furling it with clear boredom.

“What is wrong with working with me?” you asked, slightly offended by his clear reluctance. “I’m such a nice person. You should be honoured if anything.”

Yunho turned to you with a deadpan look. “Let’s just get this over with. Studying maps isn’t exactly how I imagined spending my day today,” he muttered, tossing the map he had been playing with back onto the table and leaning over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

You scoffed, deciding to be the bigger person and ignore his comment. You grabbed a pencil and began making notes along the margins of the map, your mind already mulling over the possible routes, calculating distances, and marking areas of potential dangers. The hum of the ship’s machinery and the distant calls of seagulls filled the silence between you.

Yunho shifted in his chair, tapping his foot against the floor, very clearly uncomfortable with the silence. He watched you for a moment, his head tilted to the side, before speaking up. “You really know what you’re doing, huh?” His tone was almost begrudgingly impressed.

You didn’t look up from your work. “Of course. I’ve been doing this a long time. And besides, if I don’t do a good job, your dear captain might just make me fish fodder, and it's too bright of a day to swim with the sharks.”

Yunho chuckled softly, his expressions lightening up a little. “Yeah, he’s not big on second chances,” he admitted. Then, leaning closer, he whispered conspiratorially, “But between you and me, you’ve got a better chance than most. He wouldn’t have spared you for even a second if he didn’t think you were useful.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small smile from tugging at your lips. There was something about Yunho’s casual attitude that was oddly comforting. “Alright, if you’re so bored, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me an estimate on the weather conditions?” you suggested, gesturing to a stack of weather charts on the side of the table. “We need to know if we’re going to have to face any storms or unfavourable winds.”

Yunho’s face lit up slightly at the idea of having something to do, even if it was not ideal. “Aye, aye, navigator,” he said with a mock salute, grabbing the charts and flipping through them.

As you continued to study the maps, making annotations and considering various routes, you found yourself feeling a little lighter. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be as unbearable as you thought.

Hours passed as you meticulously combed through various maps and charts. The sun was already making its way towards the west, casting streams of golden light across the room. You remained focused on your task, occasionally glancing up as Yunho wandered around, fiddling with various instruments, and scribbling random notes on rough paper. Despite his earlier complaints, he would sometimes offer surprisingly useful snippets of information about the ship’s capabilities — like its 54-knot speed and the height of its masts and stuff related to air pressure.

But soon, his restlessness began to influence your own mind. You could feel the fatigue weighing down your eyelids, words had started to swim in front of your eyes. At least you had managed to outline a few potential routes. All that remained was the daunting task of presenting your findings to the captain. Hongjoong still unnerved you, but you were becoming used to his constant threats.

Deciding to rest a bit, you leaned back in your chair, glancing over at Yunho, who seemed deeply engrossed in dismantling a peculiar-looking box. He probably wouldn’t mind if you closed your eyes for a moment. You leaned your head back, let your eyelids flutter shut, and welcomed the warm blanket settling over your thoughts.

Just as sleep was about to sweep you away, a loud bang jolted you awake. The door to the room had been flung open with such force that it slammed against the wall, rebounding with a sharp creak, causing you to startle and lose your balance. You fell from your chair, landing hard on your side with a groan. Blinking in surprise, you looked up to see a man standing in the doorway, his appearance dishevelled, his hair blown out at odd angles, and parts of his clothing drenched in seawater.

It was the same man who had suggested selling you off the night before. A flash of anger surged through you as you side-eyed him furiously, but he seemed completely oblivious to your presence. He turned his attention straight to Yunho, his voice urgent and strained.

“Storm flashes,” he panted, catching his breath and putting his hands on his knees. “They shouldn’t be happening right now, but Captain wants you and the navigator. We need to secure the ship. The waters are unpredictable, and we haven’t even hit the big one yet. The lower masts are already wavering,” he pointed behind him.

Your anger melded into confusion and then horror. You had read about storm flashes — violent bursts of wind and icy rain, accompanied by deafening thunder and blinding lightning. The rain felt like tiny blades cutting open your skin, and the wind could be so strong that it could pick people up and blow them away. Though you had never experienced one firsthand, the descriptions you had read were enough to fill you with a sense of dread.

Yunho's face had lost its usual playful expression, replaced with one of concern. He shot up from his place on the floor and nodded sharply. "We don’t have much time,” he muttered before glancing back at you. “You heard him. Let’s go.”

You scrambled to your feet, you were afraid, you couldn’t just die after enduring so much pain and not finishing what was started. You were on a pirate ship in the middle of dangerous waters, and now you were about to face a deadly storm, surely you would make it, just like the other times. Unfortunately, there was no time to dwell on your fears. You nodded, brushing off your clothes, and hurrying after Yunho.

The man at the door, who seemed to have been partially soaked by the storm’s initial onslaught, looked back at you with a calculative gaze, as if he was checking how useful you’d be, before moving out of your way. “Stay close and follow instructions,” he snapped, his voice hard. “We can’t afford mistakes right now.”

You followed Yunho up to the main deck, your heart racing with every step. The wind outside had already begun to pick up, the pressure dropping, and the skies were a deep, foreboding grey. The ship creaked and groaned under the strain of the rising waves, and the air was thick with the smell of salt and you could almost taste the electricity in the air.

Crew members moved frantically around the deck, securing ropes, fastening cargo, and shouting instructions to each other over the deafening roar of the wind. You could see Captain Hongjoong standing near the helm, his face calm but focused, barking orders at his crew.

“Get those sails down! Prepare for the storm flashes!” he yelled. His voice, though firm, seemed almost calm in the face of the chaos, as if he’d done this all before, which he probably must have. He turned his head, spotting you and Yunho. “Navigator, up here!” he called, waving you over to the helm.

You made your way toward him, gripping the railings tightly to keep from being blown off balance by the gusts of wind. Yunho was right behind you, still keeping his eye on parts of the ship that might need securing.

When you reached Hongjoong, he didn’t waste a second. “We need to find shelter, fast. The storm flashes are already upon us, and we haven’t even touched the big one yet. Can we make it past the Swartz Peninsula, or do we need to find another way?” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the wind.

You glanced at the map you had been holding tightly in your hand. Your mind raced as you quickly calculated distances and potential obstacles. “We can try to cut around the peninsula, but it’ll be risky,” you shouted back. “If we can’t make it past before the storm intensifies, we’ll be caught in the worst of it.”

Hongjoong nodded, considering your words carefully. “Then we have no choice but to risk it. Yunho, get down to the engine room and make sure everything is secured. If the engines fail, we’re as good as dead, and raise the reinforcements.”

Yunho nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you a quick, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “We’ll get through this.”

You nodded back, gripping the edge of the helm as the first flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened skies. The ship lurched forward, fighting the rising waves, and your mind raced through every bit of knowledge you had about this treacherous part of the sea. You closed your eyes, mind going faster than light, trying to figure out something- anything that could help. Then it clicked, your eyes shot open.

There was a little passage along the peninsula that most sailors didn’t know about — but you did. Your teacher had spoken of it with a certain fondness, referring to it as one of "her places." She had told you about several of these spots, hidden pathways and secret routes that she seemed to treasure. You never quite understood why she called them hers; she didn’t own them, and it wasn’t as if she had discovered them, but there was always a special gleam in her eyes when she spoke of them.

After she passed, these places remained a mystery, an unfinished guide left behind for you to complete. When you started taking odd jobs as a navigator for small merchant ships, you began to test her secrets. You soon realised that no one seemed to know of these pathways — they weren’t on any maps, and even the most seasoned sailors seemed oblivious to their existence. They were often the easiest routes, bypassing dangerous reefs or cutting through the most anarchic parts of the sea. You kept this knowledge to yourself, claiming that you had stumbled upon them by accident, and surprisingly, no one ever questioned it. Over time, they forgot about these secret ways altogether. But you hadn’t.

And now, one of those secret routes could save all of your lives. This passage was exactly what you needed: a sea cave that ran beneath the peninsula from one end to the other. The best part was its entrance — a narrow opening concealed by a wall of sea stumps, jagged rocks that jutted out from the water and looked like an extension of the land itself. From a distance, it seemed like an impassable barrier, and most sailors wouldn’t even think to venture closer. The only way to reach the cave's entrance was through a slim strip of water, just wide enough for a single ship to slip through. You had only passed through it once before, on a much smaller vessel, and even then, it had been tight.

You glanced back at Hongjoong, who was gripping the wheel with focused determination. The wind whipped his hair around his face, and his eyes, still hidden behind those dark sunglasses, seemed to pierce through the storm ahead. "There might be another way," you yelled, trying to make your voice heard over the howling wind. "There's a passage, a sea cave that cuts right through the peninsula. If we can find the entrance, we can make it through to the other side."

Hongjoong looked at you, his expression incredulous. "A sea cave?" he repeated, his voice half-drowned by the noise of the storm. "And you’re sure it’s real? Not just some sailor’s tale?"

“It’s real,” you insisted. “My teacher told me about it. I’ve used it before. But it’s tricky — the entrance is hidden, and the waters around it are narrow. We have to be precise.”

He studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. “Show me where,” he ordered. You quickly unfurled the map, your fingers tracing along the contours of the peninsula, then pointing to a spot where the line of the land met the sea.

“Here,” you said. “It’s hidden by sea stumps, but there’s a passage through them. If we keep our heading slightly to the east, we should see them soon. The opening will be small, but we have to get through before the storm closes in completely.”

Hongjoong nodded sharply, his jaw tight. “Alright,” he called out to the crew, “adjust the sails! Bring us slightly eastward — keep a sharp eye out for jutting rocks.”

The crew moved quickly to follow his orders, and the ship began to veer slightly to the right. You could feel the sparks in the air, and tension thicker than the storm clouds above. The wind howled louder, and the first drops of rain began to fall, cold and sharp against your skin. You felt sharp crystals of ice scratch your skin. You winced, touching your cheek and feeling the smallest droplets of blood.

Yunho returned from below deck, his face serious. "Engines are secure, but we’re running hot," he reported to Hongjoong. “We don’t have much time.”

“We don’t need time,” Hongjoong shot back, his eyes fixed ahead, for the second time you saw his sunglasses off of his face, and the grey of his eyes fought against the stormy clouds with equal persistence. “We just need luck.”

You leaned forward, squinting through the rain, searching for any sign of the sea stumps. The waves were growing more violent, the ship pitching up and down with increasing force. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the water for a brief moment. And then, you saw them — dark shapes protruding from the sea, just where you expected them to be.

“There!” you shouted, pointing. “There’s the entrance!”

Hongjoong steered the ship toward the stumps, navigating carefully through the narrow waters. The crew held their breath as the ship drew closer to the hidden opening. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your fingers gripping the edge of the helm so tightly your knuckles turned white.

The ship inched forward, titling dangerously and straightening back up, the waves slapping against the hull with a deafening roar. You looked at Hongjoong, veins in his neck protruding from the strain of it all. The narrow strip of water seemed impossibly tight, but the ship kept moving, squeezing through with painstaking slowness. You held your breath, praying silently that you had made the right call, that the cave was deep enough for a ship this size.

And then, with a final heave, the ship slipped through the opening and into the mouth of the sea cave. The walls of the cave rose up around you, sheltering you from the wind and rain. The noise of the storm outside seemed to soften, though the roar of the water echoed loudly against the stone.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the creak of the ship, and the steady drip of water from the cave ceiling. You had made it — for now, at least.

Hongjoong turned to you, a rare grin breaking across his face. "Not bad," he said, his voice echoing off the cave walls. "Now let’s see if we can get through the rest of it alive."

Without missing a beat, he raised his voice to command the crew. “Wooyoung, assess overall damage while we still have light!” he yelled at the man stationed at the lookout post. “Yunho, get on with the minor fixes. Take Mingi and San if you need help.”

You wondered briefly, who the other men were, breaking from your thoughts on hearing a chorus of “Aye, Captain!” behind you. The deck was suddenly alive with a flurry of movement, ropes being secured, and tools being fetched.

"Move aside, miss," a soft voice spoke over your shoulder, startling you. You turned and found yourself face to face with a tall man who looked like he had been resurrected from a shipwreck — dark circles under his eyes and a pallor that suggested he hadn’t slept in days.

"Ahh, who the fuck are you?" you exclaimed impulsively, unable to mask your surprise.

The man remained unfazed. "Park Seonghwa," he replied evenly. "Quartermaster and occasional helmsman, which is what I must do right now if you’d so kindly give me some space."

You blinked, momentarily thrown by his calm manner, before stepping back to allow him access to the helm. He slid smoothly into position beside the captain, his hands deftly taking control of the wheel. Hongjoong moved away, satisfied, and motioned for you to follow him.

You broke away from the spot where you were frozen in place, trailing behind him as he made his way to a small covered area behind the main mast. The rain was still pounding down outside the cave, but inside, it felt almost eerily calm.

"You have proved your worth, Miss Navigator," Hongjoong began, his voice low and thoughtful. "I’d like to keep you around since you are of use. Not that you have a choice, of course." He paused, looking you over with that keen gaze of his. "This is not where our journey ends. According to you, our estimated time of arrival should be…?”

You thought for a moment, running the calculations quickly in your head. “Approximately nine hours until we leave the cave, and then another day or so to reach the eastern port towns of the Northern Aurora Islands.”

He nodded, seeming pleased with your response. “Yes, that’s good. We’re much ahead of schedule, which I must say I appreciate. It means we have time to do just one more thing, which I will brief you on once we’re on the other side. Until then, you can rest or do whatever you need — maybe get your head bandaged again; it seems like the wound has reopened.”

His fingers lightly touched your chin, tilting your face so he could inspect the injury. For a brief second, the world seemed to narrow down to the space between you and him. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumb brushing the edge of the bandage. The moment felt oddly intimate, a flicker of something almost like concern crossing his eyes before he released you.

The second his fingers left your skin, the throbbing in your head returned wanting nothing but revenge. You winced, realising he was right — the wound had indeed reopened. You sighed, resigned to another trip to see the doctor. At least, you thought, the prospect of visiting the surprisingly gentle physician wasn’t so bad. It even made you feel a tiny bit happier.

You nodded at Hongjoong, bidding him a quiet goodnight. “I’ll get it checked out,” you promised, relieved to have some time to rest before he decided to thrust another herculean task upon you.

Hongjoong gave a small, satisfied nod. "Good. We’ll reconvene after we’ve made it to the other side," he said, his expression returning to its usual seriousness. "Rest while you can."

As you made your way below deck, the noise of the crew bustling around, repairing the minor damages and securing the ship, faded into the background. You felt a strange mix of exhaustion and relief settling in.

You found your way back to the makeshift infirmary, knocking lightly before entering. The familiar sight of the doctor — with his soft, steady hands and kind eyes — was a pleasant sight after what you just went through.

"Back again so soon?" he asked with a gentle smile, not phased by the events that transpired outside, his eyes flicking to the reopened wound on your head.

You managed a tired smile in return. "Seems like I just can’t stay out of trouble," you replied.

He chuckled softly, motioning for you to sit down. "Let’s get you patched up again, shall we? I’m starting to think you might be enjoying my company a little too much."

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, finally allowing yourself to loosen up for the first time in hours. “Of course, you’re currently my favourite person—apart from the part where you agreed to throw me off the ship. That was not cool."

He pouted in defence, looking genuinely affronted. “Hey! I never said that. I just said I didn’t revive you just for you to get killed anyway. It took a lot of work, you know!”

You laughed harder at his expression, amused at how his serious attitude melted into a childish pout. "Fine, fine, I’ll let it slide,” you teased, only to yelp softly when he lightly smacked your shoulder. “Sit still and let me work,” he scolded, but there was a teasing lilt in his voice that made it hard to take him seriously.

You apologised, still trying to stifle your laughter, and as the conversation fizzled out into a comfortable silence, you felt the tension ebb away out of your body. His hands were steady, the familiar scent of herbs and clean linen filling the air as he patched you up again. You closed your eyes, the soreness slowly slipped away, as his magic worked wonders on your injury. By the time he finished, the pain had pretty much vanished.

"Thanks," you mumbled, your voice heavy with the sleep that was already threatening to pull you under. A yawn escaped before you could hold it back, and when you blinked your eyes open again, you found Yeosang staring at you intently, a strange emotion flickering in his dark eyes—something that you couldn’t understand yet.

He quickly blinked and turned away, busying himself with packing up his supplies. When he helped you stand, there was a soft smile on his lips, though his eyes avoided yours. Without a word, he walked you to the door. “Goodnight,” he said gently as you stepped out, his voice as soft as the smile still lingering on his face.

But just before he could close the door, you hesitated. "Wait," you called, making him pause. He raised an eyebrow at you. "You never told me your name."

His eyes widened slightly as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Then, his expression softened, eyes crinkling at the corners as his lips stretched into a smile. "Kang Yeosang," he replied, his voice gentle. “How very nice to meet you.”

You smiled back, the name rolling around in your head. “Hmm… Yeosang,” you tested, a soft giggle escaping your lips. “A pretty name fit for a pretty boy.”

For a moment, Yeosang stood frozen, eyes wide as if he didn’t quite process what you’d said. “Y-you think I’m pretty?” he stammered, his cool, calm facade cracking.

The realisation of what you’d just said hit you like a tidal wave, and your cheeks immediately flushed crimson. "Goodnight!" you blurted in a panic, not waiting for his response as you quickly turned on your heel and rushed down the hallway, your heart thundering in your chest.

Behind you, you could hear Yeosang chuckle softly at your antics, but you didn’t dare look back. You practically ran into your room, slamming the door shut behind you. Pressing your cold hands against your burning cheeks, you tried to calm yourself down, heart still racing. Had you really just called a pirate—*that* pirate—pretty? What was wrong with you?

You flopped onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief as the events of the day replayed in your mind. You had somehow managed to make it through a storm, navigated through a secret passage, and now… you’d gone and flirted with the ship’s doctor. Just amazing.

Despite your embarrassment, a small smile tugged at your lips as you thought of Yeosang's flustered reaction, it was kind of cute. You still slapped your cheeks to remove these thoughts from your brain.

Slowly, exhaustion caught up to you, and your racing thoughts began to fade. You drifted off to sleep, your heart finally calming.

Comment under masterlist to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @yandere-stories @passionandsuga @beabatiny @sadtoru @pixie0627 @nagynomi98 @bunnychui

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thelargefrye · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! ~ What do you think how ateez reacts watching EXILE HER kissing/bed scene in her first ever acting project 🤭😂

ATEEZ REACTS TO YOUR KISSING SCENE IN A DRAMA ... reaction ( 18+ )

pairing : idol!ateez x idol!f!reader

genre : bullet-point style, reaction, exile her au, idol au, comedy, fluff, kind of spicy (but nothing really happens, just implied)

word count : 2k

warnings : some language, mentions of making-out / intimate scenes / fake blood (these are all alluded to in the drama)

note : tried to keep the members all at the same length lol. also, i made this her second acting project which i will make a post about at a later date, so just a heads up lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

context on drama: it trended on different platforms for being a number of reasons but one of them is because of the intimate scenes that are in it between you and your co-star, park jihoon. this is ateez's reactions when they watch it and see all those different scenes.

HONGJOONG

hongjoong was caught off-guard immediately with the first scene in the FIRST episode

man was SHOOK with how you and your co-star were making out, camera zooming in on you both as you kiss and then panning as jihoon's hands trailed down your body

he was getting flashbacks to when you make-out and he does the exact same things

so of course he ended up imagining himself in the scene with you

what it would be like to shoot something like this with you

by the end of the scene he was completely jealous of your co-star because he wanted to do something like this with you

like the image of you kissing would be burned into his eyelids and he HATED IT

def didn't help how excited you were to watch your drama with him and others

mainly because you knew these scenes were here and when he turned to look at you at some point during the episode

he found you already staring at him, like you were watching his reactions

and he immediately regrets agreeing to watch it with you because he knows you were enjoying watching him suffer like this

so he tried to hide his jealousy at times but he couldn't help but get absorbed into the story of your character

so then by the end of it, he found himself more intrigued than jealous

but we all know he was still jealous at least on the inside

SEONGHWA

when you told seonghwa that this drama would be more mature he thought it meant something in the sense of gore and action

which it had that but he was completely caught off guard with some of more intense scenes

and not to mention the ones where you and your co-star were a little too intimate for him not to feel at least a little jealous

but seonghwa had to remind himself that it was all fake and that you were cuddled up next to him in his bed

he had promised to watch it with you when him and the others finished their tour and as hard as it was to avoid the drama

he managed to do it, completely avoiding any and everything about it

even when the other members watched it, he would ignore them when they talked about

and honestly, the really intimate scenes didn't get to him as much as the softer moments did

when you would caress and hold jihoon close to you or when you would kiss him

and especially during the "high school flashbacks" would get him the most he would feel both jealous AND emotional because of how heartbreaking they were

at one point you would look over to seonghwa tearing up at some of the softer moments

"its just so heartbreaking" he would say when you ask him what was wrong before fulling crying and having you instantly comfort him

YUNHO

he was immediately interested when he seen your drama trending on different social media

what also caught his eye was clips about one scene floating around on tiktok and twitter

a lot of people calling it "the bathroom scene" which only got him more curious

so when he was doing nothing but laying in bed one night after a concert, he remembered how everyone had been going crazy over the scene

and curiosity got the better of him and he watched just that scene

which... probably wasn't greatest idea but it was whatever he told himself

he would watch this 'infamous' scene now and then the rest of it later with one of the others or even with you

so he watched the scene and immediately felt a swing of different emotions

from how turned on he was because of how you looked extremely hot covered in blood and angry

to feeling uneasy when he watched you caress your co-star like how you would him or one of the others

to jealous when it then lead to you and your co-star making out and jihoon basically grinding against you and how you made those sounds that were only reserved for him and your other lovers

and then finally he came to regret the whole thing having let his curiosity get the better of him

and so when he finally sat down and watched it with mingi, he felt all those emotions come at him once more

YEOSANG

if yeosang felt jealous then he was really good at hiding it

he remembers you telling him and others about how this drama was on the more... mature side

which he didn't mind, he knew that it was something you were excited about and it was an opportunity for you career

so why wouldn't he be supportive of it?

annnnnnnnnnnnd then the drama came out and it was the internet exploded

he was seeing how fans were reacting to it and it only made him curious about it

even atiny were asking him about it and what he thought when he would go live

"have i watched y/nnie's drama? not yet but i've seen people talk about it. is it good?" he would ask and watch the comments flood with mix things

the usual yes and no comments: "watch it! its really good!!" "some scenes are hard to watch ngl..."

and then there were the ones that caught his eye: "you'll get jealous if you watch it."

"why would i be jealous?"

and then they would say: "y/n and jihoon are too sexy in some of it."

which obviously made him more curious about it and so he decided to watch it

and as he watched he couldn't help but feel something as he watched you and co-star kiss repeatedly, each one getting more and more heated than the last one

and then he finished it.

so... if kang yeosang was jealous then he was really really good at hiding it

SAN

san was excited for you when you told him and others about your new drama

so he was prepared to watch it when it came out because he wanted to be a supportive boyfriend

he remembers asking atiny about the drama during a live right after it was released

and like yeosang the comments came in and were mixed with all sorts of things

a lot of atiny telling him it was good but some scenes were very mature and some just outright telling him not to watch because of those mature things

and then he ended up watching it anyways with wooyoung one night while on tour

and he was definitely jealous about jihoon, your co-star

was shocked at how intimate the two of you would be in some scenes

he remembers actually gasping at one scene because your whole back was on display to the camera and while he knew you were actually fully naked – it still took him by surprise

also like seonghwa some of the softer scenes would hit hard and reminded him and you two when he would hold you or when you would hold him

after he finished it, he went on live the next day and brought it up

"i finished y/n's drama last night," he began remembering all the scenes that stood out to him the most

he tried his best to contain his jealousy, not wanting to show it camera

"i liked it a lot, definitely not something i would have imagined y/n in," he adds trying to remain calm as the image of your naked back flashed into his mind "but i think she did a really good job in it"

MINGI

this man was SCANDALIZED

he was so shocked throughout the entire thing as him and yunho watched

yunho even threatened to turn it off at one point if he kept gasping at every scene

"i can't help it! its just so interesting!" he would say, defending himself

and then the bathroom scene happened and he was FLOORED like he was so shocked by the whole thing

mingi was so invested into the story that he didn't even have time to think about being jealous

however when him and yunho were taking a break between episodes that's when he noticed yunho was getting jealous

and of course mingi used that to tease yunho because the rapper knew how much the dancer was whipped for you

and then after they finished the drama mingi was so heartbroken because it was over

he ended up watching it again by himself at a few months later

and it was during the re-watch that he was noticing things happening in the story and how like a lot of the others, your intimate moments reminded him of you two

but again, mingi wouldn't be jealous because he knew that you loved him and the others

and even with fans shipping you and your co-star, mingi knew that he didn't have to worry about your feelings

anyways, mingi best boy

WOOYOUNG

despite how he acts most of the time

wooyoung doesn’t get easily jealous

at least in a serious way

he’s confident in his relationship and knows that he has nothing to ever worry about

especially when it comes to you or the others acting in a drama that involves romance

so when he heard about the intimate scenes in your newest drama, wooyoung was immediately interested in it

and so when him and some of the others watched it together one night... to say he wasn't surprised would be a lie

but to say he wasn't turned on by some of the scenes would also be a lie

he thought you looked hot, plain and simple

and watching you show a bunch of different emotions on camera, well... it kind of turned him on

some of the scenes were definitely more intense than what he was expecting

but then when it got intimate or slightly romantic between you and jihoon then that's when it made his stomach do all sort of flips

like hongjoong he found himself imagining him in your co-star's place and thinking back to all the times you two would be intimate

it honestly kind of made him miss you more than he already did and he would end up calling you so he could see you outside of your drama

after he finished, he would go and brag about how his "best friend was a famous actress" and talking about how he loved the drama

he also kind of just... rubbing it in that he was close to you while others weren't

you know, just wooyoung things

even telling atiny to watch it (if they were old enough)

JONGHO

jongho had heard all about the drama like yunho had

so he was aware of some of the scenes the drama had to offer

but unlike yunho, he didn't watch those specific clips before the whole and instead experienced them all together

and jongho wasn't jealous per say, but he was shocked at some of the scenes

he was honestly glad he decided to watch the drama by himself because he found himself flustered at most if not all the intimate scenes that were shown

just like hongjoong and wooyoung, jongho would also imagine himself in those scenes with you

but not because he was jealous of your co-star

BUT because watching those scenes made him miss you while him and the others were on tour

HOWEVER

seeing how popularly it was and how loved you and jihoon were becoming to the internet

it wasn't the scenes in the drama that would necessarily make him jealous but the interview you and your co-star would do

seeing fans go crazy over the two of you like you were an actual couple... it made him feel weird inside

so you best believe that when he sees you again, you're gonna have the giant teddy bear cuddling up with you

and of course you wouldn't question his sudden need for cuddles and affection, only giving it to him

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

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silver-hwaberry · 4 months ago

Text

TWENTY-ONE: shooting stars

Warnings: anxiety, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, safe word set but not used, spanking, swearing

Word count: 11.3K

Summary: KCON day has arrived and Luna is there for a member who is struggling. While another member has planned a night for just the two of them under the stars in LA.

From the moment Jongho woke up in his hotel room in LA, he felt off. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t figure out what. He presumed at first it was maybe the long flight the day before with a full day at kcon ahead of them. So he did his usual routine for when they were away for work of getting up early and going down to the gym. To his surprise, Luna and Yeosang were in there. Luna was running on the treadmill while Yeosang was doing weight lifting.

"Hey Jongho!" Luna greets with a smile, increasing her pace on the treadmill.

Jongho returns the smile, feeling a bit more awake now that he has seen her. "Morning, Luna." he replies, making his way over to the weights area where Yeosang was focused on his reps.

As Jongho began his workout, he found himself stealing glances at Luna's intense treadmill session. The rhythmic thumping of her strides against the machine echoed in the gym, providing a steady beat to their morning routine. After a while, Luna slows down, her breaths becoming more laboured.

"Oh my god, I am so done now!" she exclaimed, stopping the treadmill and wiping sweat from her face.

“You did well.” Yeosang replies placing the weights down

“That is a lie, but I’ll take the compliment anyway.” she laughs walking over to him

Jongho watches as she wipes some sweat from Yeosangs forehead with her towel before pulling him in for a kiss. As Yeosang wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her back Jongho quickly averts his gaze, feeling like he is intruding on a private moment between them. When they break apart Yeosang goes over to the water machine to refill his water bottle. Luna notices Jonghos quiet demeanor.

"Hey, Jongho, you're awfully quiet over there. Everything okay?" Luna asks softly

Jongho forces a smile. "Yeah, I'm good." he replies nonchalantly, not wanting to burden her with his concerns as he puts the weight he was lifting onto the floor and stretches his arms

"Jjong, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you, if you need anything." she reassures him, her voice soft and comforting.

Feeling her genuine care and support for him, he considers telling her but he couldn’t pinpoint himself exactly why he was feeling this way. “Honestly, I’m just tired. From the flight yesterday and having a full day ahead of us at kcon.” he says, “I’ll be fine once I’ve had my workout and breakfast.” he adds

Luna looks at him, not quite believing him but not wanting to push him either. She reaches over and holds onto one of his hands. “Okay.” she nods, “Remember that I am always here though.”

Feeling the warmth of her hand in his, Jongho laces their fingers and gives her a small smile. “I know, thank you sweetheart.”

Yeosang comes back over to them, gulping down the cool water. He notices their entwined hands and smiles to himself at seeing Jongho allowing himself to be open with someone.

“Anyway, I better go get my stinky ass in the shower. I’ll see you guys later on when we get picked up.” she says giving Jonghos hand a tiny squeeze before kissing Yeosangs cheek and leaving

Jongho and Yeosang continued their workout in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The gym gradually filled up as the morning wore on, the quiet atmosphere replaced by the hum of activity. As they finished their workout, Jongho felt his energy levels have increased but the unease was still there.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you two so early.” Jongho says, “Thought I’d have the gym to myself at such an early hour.”

“Wasn’t planning to come down this early to be honest but I couldn’t really sleep so got up and I found Luna waiting for the elevator.” Yeosang replies, “Wasn’t expecting to see her either.”

“How was she this morning?” Jongho asks

As they all gathered in Hongjoong's room for dinner the night before, not a single one of them spoke of the panic attack that had occurred on the plane. It was an agreement the 8 of them made before Yunho arrived with her, that they would only speak about it if she brought it up first. While mostly everyone was asleep on the plane Luna had spoken to Seonghwa privately, telling him how embarrassed she was by what happened and although he had reassured her she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she said she still felt self-conscious about it. So not wanting to make her uncomfortable, they made the decision not to talk about it.

“Her usual happy and bright self. I think she got a good nights sleep.” Yeosang answers as Jongho nods. Little did they know she didn’t get as much sleep as the others did and neither did Yunho who’s room she’d spent the night in after the dinner.

After Jongho and Yeosang cleaned up they went back to their rooms but the feeling inside of Jongho was still there. He had hoped the workout would have settled it so he continued with his morning routine of having a shower and ordering breakfast to his room before going to the conference room that had been set up for hair and make up.

“Where is Luna?” San asks, scanning the room as he enters

“She’ll be coming down soon.” Hongjoong answers as Chaeyoung runs a brush through his hair

“I don’t get why Luna is always around!” Chaeyoung blurts out.

“Luna is our translator.” Hongjoong answers in a monotone voice, “She’ll always be with us, that’s her job.”

He had picked up on the looks Chaeyoung would give Luna when she was around and how Luna kept her distance from her. It didn’t surprise him though as most of the staff did the exact same because of Chaeyoungs attitude and her little mean girl gang. Hongjoong knew how outspoken Luna was too and had assumed she was keeping herself away so as not to say anything. Either way Hongjoong didn’t like Chaeyoung but he tolerated her because she excelled at her job and in order to keep her away from the other guys after the incident with Yunho, he volunteered himself.

“I get that, Joongie,” she sighs. “But does she really need to be in hair and makeup? Or hanging around when she isn’t needed?”

“Yes, because we’re about to attend a predominantly English-speaking event in 30 minutes. We need to be prepared,” he replies curtly. “And it’s Hongjoong to you,” he adds, feeling a hot sensation of irritation at hearing her use the nickname that made his heart flutter and a reason to smile when Luna said it. From Chaeyoung’s mouth, it made his stomach turn. He felt it to be incredibly unprofessional as well when they were coworkers only, they had no form of friendship outside of her styling his hair.

“I..I’m sorry…I’m..” she stammers, her eyes wide as she looks at him through the mirror

“Lets just focus on work.” he interrupts

She nods and continues styling his hair. At that moment, Luna enters the room and the others greet her politely. Hongjoong notices the eye roll from Chaeyoung through the mirror in front of him.

As Luna takes her seat in the corner of the room, Wooyoung glances over at her and asks, "How are you feeling today, Luna? Did you sleep well?"

Luna smiles warmly and replies, "I'm feeling great, thank you. I slept…. good.” she glances over at Yunho briefly who gives her a discreet smile in return,

“That’s good!” Wooyoung smiles, “Ready for a busy day ahead?”

“I am excited for the event and fully ready to help out however I can."

Hongjoong nods in approval before turning his attention back to Chaeyoung. Sensing a tense atmosphere with Chaeyoung staring at Luna through the mirror, he decides to break the silence by saying, "Let's make sure everything is perfect today. We need to show our best selves at this event."

Chaeyoung, still feeling uneasy after her slip-up earlier, chimes in nervously, "Yeah, of course. I'll make sure everything is ready for you guys. Sorry again for earlier."

“Lets just focus on our individual jobs and not what other people are doing.” he states firmly as she can only nod in response.

Nearly everyone is ready to leave now. The stylists with the outfits had already gone ahead to set up the changing room at the venue. Most of the hair and makeup was done, and cars were arranged for transport. Luna looks around the room, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubble inside her. This was her first English-speaking event with the team—a chance to prove herself to both the company and the guys as the right choice for the job.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

So far the day has gone well, they have done a couple of interviews and handled the English perfectly. Luna hadn’t needed to help translate anything but was there to support them if they needed, and her constant presence nearby them bolstered their confidence.

As the concert's start near, Ateez prepare to open the show. Everyone is gathered in their designated changing area, stylists putting finishing touches to outfits, ensuring micpacks are secure and hidden, etc. Jongho sits in a corner, hands trembling as he mentally rehearses the choreography for the kcon signature song. Luna notices his tense demeanour and shaking hands. She has never seen him this nervous before and felt a pang of worry. Approaching him, she glances at the staff finalising outfits and hair for the others, making sure no one was watching her. "Hey, it's going to be okay," she says soothingly.

Jongho looks up at her with wide eyes, his bottom lip trembling. "But what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?" he whispers, his voice cracking.

Luna takes another look around, she knows they aren’t due on stage for another 20 minutes. “Come with me.” she says

Jongho rises from his seat, following her into a cramped room attached to their preparation area. The space is cluttered with racks of outfits and boxes piled high, but they are alone. She closes the door behind them, shutting out the chatter and bustle of the main room. Turning to face him, she sees his clammy cheeks and her heart clenches. Stepping closer, she takes his hands in hers, offering a gesture of comfort in front of him.

“Talk to me.” she urges softly. Jongho remains silent, his gaze fixed on the ground, “It is just us two here. You can tell me anything you want to and I promise, it won’t leave this room.”

Jongho's eyes flicker nervously as they meet hers. Even though she stands a couple of feet away, he can feel the warmth radiating from her and it instantly calms his racing heart. He hates being vulnerable in front of others, always afraid of judgement or rejection. Throughout his life, he has never known how to respond when people tried to help him, often pushing them away instead.

But standing here with Luna, her small soft hands in his, he feels something shift inside him. As he looks down at her, her full attention solely on him, he feels his walls begin to crumble. It scares him and enthrals him all at once. He takes a deep breath, his bottom lip trembling as he finally voices his fears. "But what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?" he whispers.

Luna smiles softly, one of her hands leaves his and touches his face, her fingers gently touch his cheek. "You won't mess up, and you will never let anyone down."

Jongho's chest rises and falls in rapid breaths as he struggles to control his emotions. Luna knows that words alone wouldn't be enough to ease his anxiety, so without hesitation, she did what she always does when someone she cares about needs comfort – enveloping him in a warm embrace.

She understands the risk of crossing this physical boundary with him, but she can’t see him this way and not try to provide him with a bit of solace. Her arms wrap around his sturdy frame, pulling him close to her, careful not to disturb his hair or make up. She could feel his tense muscles slowly relaxing against her, his head finding a comfortable spot on her shoulder. They stay like this for a few moments, breathing in sync. Jongho's self-doubt and nerves fade away as he holds onto her tightly.

"Thank you," Jongho mumbles into her shoulder, his voice muffled.

Luna pulls away slightly but still keeping him in her arms, looking at him with a soft smile. "Anytime, Jongho."

"I woke up this morning feeling off, and it only got worse as the day went on," he explains.

"I know that feeling," she responds, gazing into his eyes.

"Learning the choreography for the kcon song in just 6 hours and then rehearsing for the tour on top of that...it's all blending together," he continues. "I'm struggling with the new dances for the tour. Yunho is working hard to teach us, Mingi and Wooyoung has been helping him. I've been watching BBT's videos over and over again in my room at night." He sighs. "Normally, I don't have trouble with choreo but this time it's really getting to me and I don't understand why."

Luna nods and lets him express his emotions, hoping it will ease his stress. She understands the power of verbalising worries.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be unloading to you like this.” he says looking away

"It's perfectly fine and you definitely should be," she replies, gently turning his gaze back to her with her hand on his cheek. "If talking helps you, always come to me. I'm a good listener." Her hand moves to his shoulder as she looks into his eyes. "Jjong, you are amazing. You have more talent in your pinkie finger than most of us have in our entire bodies. I know you'll get on that stage and blow everyone away, like you always do!"

Jongho looks down at her as their surroundings fade away, leaving just the two of them in the world. He smiles, enfolding her in another embrace, relief washing over him at her uplifting words of encouragement and support, and also that he has conquered the barrier of hugging Luna. Though she initiated it, and he's thankful she did.

As they gaze into each other's eyes, the world falls silent and time seems to stop. Jongho leans in, gently brushing his lips against Luna's cheek. When she responds favourably, nestling closer to his touch, he continues trailing soft kisses along her face until he reaches her lips. Looking into her eyes once more, he nods almost subtly as if seeking permission to finally do what they've both been longing for. She smiles her consent. Just as they are about to share their first kiss, the sound of the door opening shatters the moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Sans voice says causing Jongho to pull his head back but he keeps a hold of her in his arms, “I didn’t mean to.. interrupt you both.”

“It is fine.” Jongho says looking over at him, Luna feels his hand subtly rub her back and it feels nice, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, um...” Sans stumbles over his words, clearly flustered by catching them in a private moment. “Hongjoong was looking for you. We need to head to the stage area now.” He nervously scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry again!” With that, he closes the door and leaves them alone once more.

Jongho's gaze stays on the door through which San has just left, a hint of frustration crossing his features. "We never seem to get a moment alone," he murmurs, more to himself than to Luna.

Luna tightens her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "We both know that always going to be hectic and chaotic, there will always be someone floating nearby but we'll find our moments together, where it is just us two." she reassures him.

Jongho turns to Luna, placing his forehead against hers. "I'm holding onto that hope," he whispers, his gaze softening as he takes comfort in her presence. “I really want to kiss you... but not like this. Not in a hurry and not when I have to leave for the stage without being able to see you again until much later tonight because we'll both be busy working all day. I'm not foolish enough to expect the perfect first kiss, but I also don't want it to be rushed."

"Jongho," Luna whispers, "our cafe date is just a couple of days away. I can't wait to have you all to myself, to share our first kiss and whenever that may be, it will be perfect because it will be ours." She smiles at him tenderly, her eyes conveying all the affection she feels for him. “Now lets get back before I get into trouble from Hongjoong for stealing you away!”

As Jongho wraps his arms around her waist, he feels a surge of happiness wash over him. “Our first kiss will be magical and perfect, just like you.” He whispers, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. A rosy blush spreads across Luna's cheeks at Jongho's gesture, a wave of warmth coursing through her body. “And I’ll handle Hongjoong, I won’t let him scold my little sweetheart!” he adds

She gazes up at him with a sheepish smile, completely caught up in the moment and loving every second of it, she returns the gesture by kissing the back of his hand so as not to ruin his make up. As they lock eyes, their faces flush with an innocent charm reminiscent of besotted teenagers. Jongho smiles widely at her, his signature gummy smile on show and crescent moon eyes.

“Lets go.” she says finally pulling apart from him

She follows him over to the door, seeing that Jongho is carrying himself more confidently and he has gone from being closed off to open and she finds herself smiling as they walk back into the changing area.

“Luna, there you are!” Wooyoung calls out to her in English, walking towards her as Jongho heads over to a stylist to put on his jacket.

Luna is surprised by Wooyoung's sudden use of English, but also feels proud of him. “Hey, what's going on?” she responds in English.

“We want you to watch us from the side of the stage instead of staying back here.” he says quietly, switching back to Korean

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way or distract anyone.” she asks

“Of course we’re sure. We love having you there when we perform and this is a special show for us. We’re opening the show, performing the signature song and it is also your home country.” he replies, “Plus, you know we always want you by our sides.”

Luna feels her heart swell with emotion as she looks at Wooyoung and the rest of the group making their final preparations.

“So will you come?” Wooyoung asks, his voice soft

"Do you even have to ask? I'll always be there for you guys," Luna responds with a light laugh. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."

“Let’s go!” Myeonjin shouts over the noise, signalling that it’s time to head out.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Their performance was an energetic and seamless display of talent and passion. The audience, already brimming with anticipation, were immediately swept up in the music as soon as the group stepped onto the stage. This only fuelled the band members to give their all, pouring their hearts into each note and dance move. Luna watched from the sidelines, her eyes sparkling with joy as her boyfriends performed. Unable to contain her excitement, she danced and sang along with the music, joined by Hyunshik. The two of them danced freely at the edge of the stage, not caring who could see them as they enjoyed each other's company.

During "Hala Hala," Hongjoong spotted them, his heart swelling at Luna's carefree happiness with her friend. Between songs, Luna watched intently, pride surging as they flawlessly delivered their rehearsed English speeches amidst their hectic schedules. As the music resumed, she and Hyunshik resumed their playful dancing.

After the final note faded, they hurried back to the waiting area to prepare for the meet-and-greet session and other events. Luna stood ready to assist with translations. Though their stage time was over until the grand finale, their day was far from done. The air buzzed with anticipation for what lay ahead.

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After the show concluded, everyone retreated to the hotel. The guys had already arranged to do a live on YouTube while they ate dinner so Luna went back to her room where she immediately got changed into a pair of black sweatpants, a loose fitting cropped t-shirt and an oversized knitted cardigan, ordered her own dinner while she watched the live. Knowing most of the group would either go out to enjoy their rare free time in LA or head straight to bed, she prepared for a quiet night alone.

Once the live session ended and her food trays were placed outside her door, Luna settled on top of her bed with a book she had planned to read on the plane but hadn’t touched. She had spent that flight sleeping and watching a movie with Yeosang, their hands secretly intertwined under blankets.

Ten minutes later, her phone buzzed, pulling her from the pages. Seeing Hongjoong’s name on the screen made her heart flutter.

Luna feels a little bubble of excitement in her tummy as she puts her phone on the bed and jumps off it, quickly makes her way over to the bathroom to freshen up for him. Apart from their lunch in his studio a few weeks ago this was the first time he’s asked to do something with her that wasn’t at the company building. With the long hours Hongjoong works in his studio, they rarely see one another in the apartment either so opportunities to be alone have been slim to zero.

As she brushes her hair she hears a small knock at her hotel room door, she places the brush back on the dressing table and opens the door to see Hongjoong smiling at her. His heart flutters as he sees her; despite being together all day at work, he yearned for time alone with her in private. Away from work.

“Hey Joongie!” she smiles happily

“Are you ready?” he asks

“I just need to grab my phone and put my sneakers on.” she says, “Come in.”

He follows her inside, taking in her surroundings. Her suitcase lays open in a corner, clothes jumbled inside—clearly not planning to unpack. Her work laptop sat on the desk, screen dark. Her usual Kuromi comfort blanket draped over the bed caught his eye, along with an open book beside it.

"Nice book," he remarks, picking it up gently without losing her place. "Have you had much chance to read it?" He glanced at the cover: The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh.

Luna chuckles, finishing tying her shoelaces. "Only just started it. I got it for the plane ride but ended up sleeping most of it. Maybe I'll get to it on the flight home."

“Do you like to read?” he asks

“Oh yeah! My mom is an English teacher, so I grew up with books. If I wasn’t studying languages, I had my nose stuck in a book.” she answers

“And Van Gogh I see, you like reading art books?” he asks carefully putting it back in the exact position he found it

“I love all books! From trashy romance novels to art history.” she laughs standing up from the seat in the corner and fixing the waistband of her sweats. “In my old job at the hotel I didn’t have any time for reading but now I do, which I absolutely love!” she picks up her phone and slides it into her pocket "Shall we go?" she asks, flashing a bright smile.

"Of course," he says returning her smile, holding the door open for her. They leave the room together and instead of heading to the elevator lobby on their floor Hongjoong walks in the opposite direction with Luna following rather clueless.

"So, where are we headed?" Luna asks curiously as they arrive at the end of the corridor at a smaller looking elevator door.

He looks down at her with a playful glint in his eyes. "It's a surprise," he teases as he presses the button.

Entering the elevator Hongjoong presses the button for the top floor before putting a 4 digit code into the keypad. Luna looks at him with a look of intrigue in her eyes. “Well now I am even more curious!” she giggles

With a charming smile, Hongjoong puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her towards him. Luna smiles as she cuddles into the side of his body, her head resting on his shoulder. As the lift carries them upwards to their destination, he holds her close, savouring the feeling of her warmth against the side of his body.

The doors open to reveal a breathtaking sight. As they step out onto the rooftop garden, Luna's breath catches in her throat. The sky is dark, but the stars were shining brightly, twinkling like diamonds in the sky. Her eyes widen, taking in the breathtaking sight before her. There are sun loungers dotted around the space. In the corner of the rooftop stands a cute gazebo adorned with beautiful flowers and delicate fairy lights spiralled around the flowers and pillars. There is also strings of lights hanging around the rooftop too and it makes her heart swell at how romantic it all feels. She wasn’t expecting this from him at all.

Hongjoong keeps his eyes fixed on her, a smile creeping onto his face as he looks at her looking around in complete awe. Her big brown eyes sparking under the fairy lights surrounding them.

“Joongie…” she gasps, “This is so beautiful.”

"I thought you might like it," Hongjoong says, smiling at her.

Luna turns to him, a questioning look in her eyes. "But why did you bring me up here?"

Gently taking her hand, Hongjoong pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist as she snakes hers around his shoulders. "I wanted time alone, just us, away from work and the company. The hotel room didn't seem special enough and I didn’t want to take you out anywhere with other people around. But I remembered how incredible the rooftop was on our last trip here, with complete privacy and I knew it was perfect for us." He presses his lips to hers in a tender kiss. Luna's heart flutters at his gesture, and she couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest.

As they sit on one of the double sun loungers, Hongjoong pulls a small bag that was hidden underneath it. He opens it to reveal some snacks and drinks. “Strawberries!” she giggles as she hands the container to her

“Not just strawberries.” he grins putting his hand back into the bag.

Luna's eyes widen in surprise as Hongjoong shows her the tub of cream. "Oh, you really went all out, didn't you?" she chuckles, playfully nudging him as he pulls out more snacks and drinks for them both.

"I wanted to make sure we have all the essentials for a perfect evening under the stars," he replies smoothly, scooping out a dollop of cream onto a strawberry and offering it to Luna.

She accepts the strawberry, her lips curling into a smile as she takes a bite. "Mmm, delicious," she remarks, enjoying the sweet combination of fruit and cream.

Beneath the glittering night sky, they share an impromptu picnic on the rooftop. All stress and responsibilities fade away as they sink into complete relaxation, alone together. Conversation flows effortlessly, touching on anything and everything, relishing this rare opportunity to connect without distractions.

"This is amazing, Joongie," she murmurs, looking at him with gratitude and affection in her eyes. "Thank you for this special evening."

Hongjoong's expression softens as he meets her gaze. "I'm just happy to see you smile," he says sincerely, reaching over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Come here.”

He gathers their empty food containers and drink bottles, placing them back into the bag before pulling her to sit between his legs, her back against his chest. As she settles happily into his embrace, he pulls out a blanket, covering them both.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much for you.” he whispers in her ear

“You don’t need to apologise.” she replies, “I know you are busy with work.”

“But still, I should be making more time for you.” he adds

“Do I wish you were home more often? Of course I do. Do I hate when you sleep at the studio instead of in your own bed? You bet I do! But it’s because I want to see you taking an actual break and resting. Of course, I want to see you too, but I'm more concerned about your health and well-being.” Luna says

Hongjoong swallows hard, her concern piercing through his defenses. He reflects on the countless hours spent in the studio, unaware of how much she worried for him while he was locked away.

Tightening his hold around her, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I promise to make more time for us, to create moments like this—just you and me, no distractions or worries. And I promise to come home more too."

Luna turns her head to look up at Hongjoong. "I appreciate your promise, Joongie," she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. "But, I also understand your passion for music and how hard you work for it. I just want us all to find that balance where we can support each other fully."

Feeling the sincerity in her words, Hongjoong tightens his arms around her, a soft chuckle escaping him. "I'm grateful to have you by my side, Luna. Your understanding and support means everything to me, to all of us."

As they lay there under the vast expanse of stars, Luna felt blessed. She had found acceptance in the most unexpected place. These 8 men opening her eyes to a new world where intimacy wasn't confined to one person but could take many forms and still be beautiful.

Hongjoong looks down at her, his arms around her waist pulling her closer to him. Luna turns her head slightly and looks back at him. “Are you okay, my love?” he asks softly

Luna's eyes shimmer with emotion as she meets Hongjoong's gaze, feeling a rush of warmth at his term of endearment. "I'm more than okay, Joongie," she nods, reaching her hand back to touch his cheek, "I'm happy... truly happy." she adds leaning her head back against his chest.

“I’m glad.” he replies softly. He tenderly presses his lips against her hand, savouring the intimate moment they are experiencing. It's a rare luxury for them, with their busy schedules and the pressure to maintain a professional demeanour in public. Their physical displays of affection have been limited to quick stolen kisses and brief hugs. But now, he caresses her stomach with gentle strokes while she traces her fingers along his jawline, both basking in the warmth and comfort of one another. Luna leans back into him with a soft happy sigh.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaks across the night sky, drawing gasps from both Luna and Hongjoong. “oh my god, did you just see that?!” Luna asks excitedly looking back at him with big sparkling eyes

“I did!” Hongjoong grins, kissing her cheek before putting his lips to her ear whispering, “Make a wish, my love.”

A smile crosses her face as she closes her eyes tight and make a silent wish deep in her heart. When she opens them again she sees him looking at her with a look of adoration in his face.

“What did you wish for?” he asks softly

“I can’t tell you that,” she replies turning her head to kiss him, “It won’t come true if I do.”

Hongjoong chuckles softly, pulling her closer and placing a kiss on the side of her head. “That’s true.” he says resting his head against hers as they look back up the star strewn across night sky. Hongjoong knew he’d picked the right night to do this with Luna. The sky was clear, the air wasn’t too cold, it was a tranquil night for just the two of them after a hectic couple of weeks for them both.

“Joongie?” Luna’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Yes, my love?” he responds, his tone tender.

Luna’s stomach churns with nerves as she finally voices her fear. “Why... why do you guys want me? You’re idols; you could have anyone. Why me? I’m just... nobody.” Her voice tightens, revealing her anxiety.

Hongjoong can see the insecurity in her eyes and he moves to turn her around, sitting her on his lap so they are facing each other. He cups her cheek gently with his hand causing her to look into his eyes. "Luna," he begins, "you’re far from 'nobody' to us. From the moment we met you, we all felt a strong connection to you. There was something about you that we couldn't quite put into words, or even figure out fully what was drawing us all to you. As we got to know you, it became clear to all of us why." He leans in closer, his warm breath brushing against her skin as he continues, "You bring a light into our lives that we didn't even know was missing. Your kindness, strength, uniqueness - your entire being captivates us in ways we never thought possible. We don't want just anyone, Luna. We want you." His words hang in the air between them, heavy with sincerity and a depth of emotion that leaves Luna speechless.

Luna's big, doe-like brown eyes widen in surprise and a flurry of emotions. She searches his deep, warm gaze for any hint of deceit or insincerity, but all she finds is honesty and adoration reflecting back at her. The way his gaze holds hers makes her heart skip a beat, like they are the only two people in the world at that moment. A soft smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she leans in placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“How are you doing with our situation?” he asks, looking into her eyes seriously

“It’s... good,” she smiles, her hands sliding up his arms to circle his shoulders. “It was strange at first. I second-guessed everything—what I said, did, even wore—wondering what you all thought about me being in a relationship with eight men.” She pauses, recalling moments of doubt and uncertainty.

Hongjoong reads the conflict on her face and gently squeezes her hips reassuringly.

“But then,” she continues “I realised that you guys were just as nervous and unsure about things as I was and it made me relax.” she smiles softly at him, her fingers play with the ends of his fluffy hair

“We definitely were!” he chuckles, his hands holding onto her hips, “A poly relationship is hard to navigate and I understand that it is harder for you than for us. 8 of us and 1 of you, many of us vying for your attention and wanting to spend time with you plus you need your alone time too.”

Luna nods in understanding, feeling gratitude wash over her. She leans closer, resting her head against his chest and taking a deep breath that brings calm.

“You’ve all been so patient with me,” she whispers softly, her voice muffled against his shirt. “And you look after me as well. More than you should have to with your own busy lives.”

Hongjoong wraps his arms around her tightly. “Of course, Luna. We care deeply about your comfort and happiness.”

She looks up at him, her eyes glistening with emotion. “I never imagined I could feel this way about multiple people at once.”

Hongjoong smiles tenderly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. “We’re all learning and growing together, Luna. Your presence in our lives has brought us closer and made us stronger as a unit too.” He leans forward and kisses her.

Luna gasps as Hongjoong’s lips meet hers in a passionate kiss, his hands gripping her hips firmly. Their bodies press together; she feels his arousal growing between them. Her breath hitches as she moans into the kiss, tasting the lingering sweetness of earlier snacks on his lips. His fingers trace slow circles on the bare skin of her lower back beneath her loose cardigan, igniting a fire within them both that has nothing to do with the balmy weather outside—a spark of heat that sends shivers up her spine.

She responds to his gentle ministrations by delicately tracing the contours of his face with her fingertips, each stroke igniting their shared skin with an intense need. Her fingers dance lightly over the faint hint of stubble on his chin, drawing a deep, rumbling groan from some hidden part of him that vibrates pleasantly against her own heated flesh.

Luna’s breath hitches as Hongjoong trails kisses down her neck, following the curve with a slow, languid pace. "Joongie," she moans lightly, dropping her head back as he pulls her hips over his, a spark of pleasure hitting her core as it rubs against his hard on. She clings onto him tighter, her nails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt.

"God, Luna," he breaths against the hollow of her throat, "you're so fucking sexy on top of me like this." Suddenly he grabs her hips and rolls them over so she is lying on the sun-lounger and positions himself above her. His eyes darken with desire as he looks at her sprawled beneath him. He groans, taking her lips in a passionate and deep kiss, tongues dancing as their bodies move against each other. His hands roam her body, feeling every curve and soft places, before running down to cup her ass, pulling her closer to his hardening cock. She moans into the kiss, feeling the heat between them growing stronger as her fingers tug at his hair. Hongjoong can feel himself getting lost in the moment, his hand inching closer and closer to sliding into her sweatpants.

"Fuck, Luna..." he rasps against her mouth, "We...we should stop."

Luna quickly untangles her legs from around his waist and tries to move away. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

"No, no," he pants, dragging her back against him, "I only meant we should retreat somewhere more private if we want to continue this." His hand glides down her taut stomach, toying with the waistband of her sweats. "It's a bit...exposed out here, even if we're alone." He bites his lower lip, voice husky with want.

“Oh shit!” she covers her mouth giggling, “I wasn’t even thinking straight.” Her eyes lock with his again. “So… your room or mine?”

“Mine is closer.” he replies briskly

“Someones a bit impatient.” she teases with a smirk

"Can you blame me?" With a smooth motion, he pushes himself off of her and helps her to stand. Without hesitation, he pulls her towards the elevator door and they move quickly, almost running. Time seems to slow down as they wait for the doors to open, every second feeling like an eternity. But once inside, Hongjoong becomes bold, pressing her firmly against the wall as his hands eagerly explore her body. They are caught up in a frenzy of desire, their lips crashing together in a hungry kiss as the doors close behind them, sealing them in their own private world. Lost in throes of desire, their bodies melt together, hands grasping and caressing.

"Joongie..." Luna mutters, placing her hands on his chest. He stills immediately.

"Am I moving too fast?" he asks, searching her eyes for any signs of hesitation.

"Oh no, not at all!" she giggles. "Just, the cameras..." She nods towards the device in the corner.

"Don't worry, this is a private elevator and our security controls the cameras here tonight, in here and on our floor." he assures her. "No one will ever see the footage. We have complete privacy."

"You really have thought of everything," she marvels.

"I wanted us to be able to be carefree tonight, like a regular couple" he says with a smile. “And no, I didn’t plan for this to be on the cards tonight before you say.” he adds kissing her softly

“I wasn’t going to.” she chuckles kissing him back, “But it is pretty damn perfect.” she adds with a playful grin causing him to blush lightly

The elevator doors glide open with a soft hiss, revealing their floor. Hongjoong reaches for Luna's hand, lacing their fingers as he quickly leads her down the plush carpeted hallway to his room. Giggling, she hurries to match his eager pace until they reach the door. Fingers fumbling in haste, he inserts the keycard and they tumble inside in a fit of playful laughter.

With a soft click, the door swings shut behind them, shutting out the world and leaving Luna and Hongjoong alone in the room. Luna wastes no time, quickly kicking off her sneakers as he does the same, desire in her eyes as she looks at him. His pulse races as she nimbly removes her cardigan, letting it slide down her arms and drop to the floor. Her cropped tee follows suit along with her sweatpants, the clothes falling away to reveal her smooth skin and delicate curves that steal his breath.

"Are you completely certain about this?" he asks softly.

Luna nods emphatically, moving closer until her body is a hairsbreadth from his. Her hands encircle his neck, pulling him into a passionate, spine-tingling kiss as their bodies melt together. A low groan rumbles in his chest and she pushes him against the wall, grinding her hips against his stiff arousal. Lunas hands move down to pull at his sweatpants as he kicks them off. His hands caress her silky skin, tracing her curvy waist before grasping her hips. She tastes of sweet strawberries, inflaming his passion. Scooping her into his arms, he carries her to the expansive bed, their lips still joined in fiery bliss.

Luna gasps as Hongjoong climbs on top of the bed and drops her onto the middle of it, his body hovering over hers. She gazes up at him, her large doe-like eyes full of longing and desire, her lower lip lightly biting into as she tries to contain her emotions. Hands moving to his t-shirt she pulls it over his head revealing his toned chest and abs. Her fingers delicately run over his chest, each touch leaving a lingering trail of fire that spreads throughout his body. Luna wraps her arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer as their lips meet in another passionate kiss.

Hongjoong can't get enough of her, his hands exploring her skin, feeling the softness beneath his touch. He can't get enough of her, can't get close enough. He needs to feel every inch of her, to make her his own for tonight. "You drive me fucking insane!" he moans, his breath hot against her neck. She gasps as he nips at her collarbone, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh.

Hongjoong's lips continue a trail of fiery kisses down Luna's body, starting from her neck and making their way down to her stomach. With practised ease, he unclasps her bra and tosses it onto the floor. His feast upon the sight of her bare breasts, rising and falling with each ragged breath she takes. The intensity of his gaze and the way his eyes darken further, Luna suddenly feels shy. On instinct her hands cover herself causing Hongjoongs features to instantly soften and look at her. He sees the shyness in her face, her eyebrows lowered, the blush on her cheeks forming as she avoids his gaze.

With a gentle touch, Hongjoong caresses Luna's cheek. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, my love," he says softly, his other hand holding her waist gently. "I want to make you feel good," he continues, "but your comfort is more important to me. If anything feels wrong or you want me to slow down, say 'yellow' and I will stop immediately."

Hongjoong's words instantly soothes Luna's nerves as she slowly lowers her hands, allowing him to gaze upon her fully but his eyes stay fixed on hers.

“I just got shy for a second, but I am fine now.” she smiles threading her fingers in his hair

“Still… remember the word and say it if you need to.” he says, Luna nods in response, “Promise me!” he urges gently, wanting to hear her say the words

“I trust you and I promise,” she says pulling his head down to kiss him. Hongjoongs stomach flips at hearing her say she trusts him causing him to smile into the kiss. “Now, can you please continue what you were doing?” she adds with a mischievous grin on her face

As Hongjoong's lips meet her neck once more, Luna gasps, her body arching into his, the sensation of his kiss setting off a shiver down her spine. With a soft moan, Hongjoong takes one pert nipple into his mouth, delicately sucking on it before tracing his tongue in slow circles around it. Luna moans and arches her back, electricity coursing through her at the sensation. His other hand stroking along her side and hip until it reaches the elastic waistband of her underwear. With agonising slowness, he slides them down over her hips and thighs, revealing the delicate skin beneath.

Hongjoong watches, his breath hitching as he sees Luna spread her legs wide, revealing her pink, swollen folds. Groaning at how wet she is for him already, his cock twitches in anticipation, desperate to be inside her. He reaches up and trails kisses down her stomach, exploring the soft skin of her tummy before moving lower to tease her mound.

Without warning, his tongue plunges into her slick folds – eliciting a shocked gasp from Luna as a surge of pleasure courses through her body. Long, slow licks soon follow before Hongjoong's skilled tongue dances over her swollen clit – teasing and tormenting the sensitive bud until soft moans escape her lips. His strong hands clasp onto her hips and guide them downwards, greedily devouring her.

As he continues to lavish attention on Luna's quivering core, Hongjoong feels his own need grow more insistent with each feverish lick and nibble. Her intoxicating taste and aroma fill his senses, driving him to the brink of madness as he sinks deeper into her. Luna's fingers weave through his hair, tugging gently at the strands as his voracious tongue explores her depths – their connection only growing more powerful with each passing moment.

Eager to bring her to the edge of pleasure, Hongjoong delicately pushes 2 fingers into her entrance - curling them upwards in search of that elusive sweet spot. Luna lets out a loud groan, her legs almost clamping shut around his head as Hongjoong feels a soft spongy area inside of her and he knows instantly he’s found it. He pumps his fingers in and out of her, the wet squelching noises only adding to the eroticism of the moment.

"Joongie," she gasps, her fingers tightening in his hair. "Please."

"Please what?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. He knows exactly what she wants, but he wants to hear her say it.

“Please make me come,” Luna whines, her cheeks flushed with desire

Hongjoong smiles against her skin, relishing the feeling of her body responding to his touch. "Beg for it," he murmurs, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh.

Luna's eyes flutter open, and she looks at him with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Please, Hongjoong," she pleads. "I need to come. I need you."

Hongjoong groans at her words, his control slipping. He pumps his fingers into her harder and faster, his tongue continuing to dance over her clit.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Luna cries out, her body shaking as she reaches her peak. Hongjoong feels her muscles clenching around his fingers, and he knows he's brought her to the brink of pleasure. He continues to lavish attention on her quivering core, drawing out her orgasm until she’s limp and satisfied.

As the waves of pleasure subside, Luna opens her eyes to find Hongjoong watching her with an intense gaze. He slowly removes his fingers, sucking them clean before leaning down to capture her lips in a soft and loving kiss. A soft moan escapes Luna as she tastes herself on his lips.

After a moment of basking in the afterglow, Hongjoong pulls back and gently disentangles Luna's fingers that are still gripping onto his hair. He can tell she is still in a haze from her high so shifts his position, moving to lie next to her on the bed. Their bodies are still close, their bare skin touching in a comforting manner. His eyes never leave her face as he watches her slowly return from the euphoric state he had brought her to.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly as she turns her head to look at him

"Joongie," she whispers, letting out a breathy laugh. "That was amazing. You’re really, really good at that!”

Hongjoong smiles shyly at her reaction. "I loved hearing you moan my name like that," he admits, his voice low and filled with desire.

Luna's eyes soften as she gazes at him. "I want you," she whispers, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest. "I can't get enough of you."

A low, guttural sound escapes him as he leans in closer, brushing his lips against hers in a tender yet urgent kiss. "You have me, my love," he murmurs between kisses. "I've wanted you for so long."

Her hands roam over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her palms. "Show me, Joongie," she breathes out, barely audible. "Show me how much you want me."

“I will.” Hongjoong smirks against her lips

His heart races at knowing she wants him just as much as he wants her in this moment. Feeling her fingernails lightly dragging along his back, he pauses for a moment, breaking their kiss. He looks into her eyes, seeing the desire mirrored in his own. But before they go any further, there's something important he needs to address.

Remembering that she sat down with everyone a few nights ago to tell them that she’d had a sexual health check done, her tests had all came back clean. Mentioning to being on birth control as well and giving consent for them to take things further without condoms if they so desired. He couldn't help but admire her openness and trust in their relationship to do this. However he needed to hear her say the words before they go any further.

“Are you 100% sure you are fine without a condom?” he asks, his face going serious, “I have the latex free ones in my bag if you want to use them.”

“You sure you didn’t plan tonight to go this way?” she chuckles lightly, her hands running up his arms

“I swear I didn’t! I’ve just been very prepared,” he laughs back shyly. “For quite a while actually.”

“Well I do like a man who is prepared for any and all situations.” she replies pulling his head down to kiss him, “However, like I said the other day to all of you, I am on birth control. I have been since before I even met you guys to help with my periods and my tests are clean, so whatever you guys want to do is fine with me.”

“I just want to make sure you are definitely okay with it.” he replies

“I am…” she smiles back at him, “Now please Joongie, can you just have sex with me before I combust!”

He chuckles lowly against her skin, a rumble that sends a shiver down her spine before he pulls down the fabric of his black boxer shorts, freeing his painfully erect cock. Luna watches intently as it springs free, biting her lower lip feeling herself grow wetter with anticipation. Hongjoong grins at her reaction and positions himself between her legs. Her eyes move to his face as he licks his lips, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The same one he gets on stage when performing, the one that causes her to get weak in the knees and it hits harder now he is situated between her legs naked, the tip of his cock nudging against her core. "Are you ready for me, Luna?" His husky voice sends a jolt of desire straight through her

She nods eagerly, opening her legs wider for him as he leans down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You are so beautiful, my love." he whispers as he slides into her in one smooth motion, groaning as how tight she feels around him. Luna's breath hitches as she feels him fill her up, her body stretching to accommodate him. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he begins to move inside of her.

“F-feels so good.” Luna whines, her walls tight around him

"You are so tight," he groans. Her hands run over his back and grip tightly onto him as he thrusts into her deeply causing her toes to curl and more loud moans spilling from her mouth. Feeling her body respond to his, Hongjoong quickens his pace, each thrust more powerful than the last.

"Joongie…" she shudders as his teeth gently nip at her skin.

“Yes, my love?” he murmurs

"Turn me over...please!" Luna begs with desperation in her eyes.

Hongjoong captures her lips in a long, deep kiss before nibbling playfully on her earlobe. "As you wish," he whispers against her ear.

In one fluid motion, Hongjoong withdraws and flips Luna onto her stomach, eliciting a sharp gasp. He props a pillow under her hips and positions himself between her legs, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. His hands glide over her backside before entering her again, a tentative slap landing on her ass.

"Oh god," Luna moans loudly as he begins a steady rhythm

“Do you like that?” he smirks, “Does my pretty baby like being spanked?”

Luna gasps, arching her back and burying her face into the bed sheets as he pounds into her from behind. His thrusts are deep and hard, each one sending waves of pleasure through her body. “Y-yes!” Her fingers claw at the sheets, her hips bucking up to meet his forceful strokes with matching urgency. The tight clench of her walls around him draws a growling groan from his throat. His hand collides with her ass again, harder this time, prompting another clench around him.

Hongjoong leans forward, kissing up her back until his lips reach her neck. "You feel so good, Luna," he pants into her ear. "I could stay inside you forever."

"Don't stop, please don't stop," she begs.

Hongjoong chuckles darkly. "Oh trust me, I won't stop until you're completely satisfied, my love."

“Oh fuck! Joongie!” Luna's cry echo around the room as she clutches onto the sheets tighter. "S-sorry, I can’t… hold on."

“Don’t hold back.” he grunts, nibbling at her earlobe while grinding his hips against hers. He feels her body tease with impending pleasure. “Let go, my love,” he whispers, his free hand reaching around to delicately hold her neck.

Luna’s back arches as she surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. She cries out his name as the orgasm washes over her, her inner walls clenching around his length in waves of pleasure.

Hongjoong groans in response, slowing his movements to prevent himself from coming. His hand around her neck squeezing gently while his other arm wraps around her waist, holding her close to him as she trembles uncontrollably, little whimpers coming out her mouth.

“It’s okay, my love.” he whispers softly into her ear, stopping his hips completely “I’ve got you.”

As her tremors subside, Hongjoong gently releases his hold on her neck, his hand now tracing soothing circles on her damp skin. He pulls his upper body back, allowing Luna the space to breathe, his own breaths coming out in ragged pants as he tries hard not to thrust back into her.

“Joongie…” she mumbles as she relaxes, “You didn’t come.” She glances back at him.

He leans down and places a soft kiss on her lips as he pulls out of her.

“Because I wanted to make you come first and then make you come again on my cock.” he smirks adjusting their position

“You better!” she grins back allowing him to pull her body up onto her knees, her back flush with his chest as he lines himself back up with her entrance again

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice has switched to soft and caring as he rubs her hips, “This isn’t sore on your knees, is it?”

“It’s fine, Joongie,” she smiles, reaching back to hold his head before capturing his lips and playfully biting his lower lip. “Please, fuck me again!”

"Whatever my baby want, my baby gets," he whispers, pulling her closer against him and positioning her so they are both sitting up on their knees, her back flush with his chest

Hongjoong's lips tease the side of her neck with tiny kisses and gentle bites as he slowly thrusts into her rhythmically eliciting small moans from Lunas mouth. Luna's body quivers with each thrust that sends new ripples of pleasure through her. His strokes become erratic in response to her rapidly increasing moans; the force behind each thrust rattles the bed frame beneath them. A powerful wave builds within Luna again with each solid pound into her.

Hongjoong's hand slides from her hip to between her legs, fingers finding and circling her sensitive clit in rhythm with his thrusts. The combination sends Luna spiralling toward her third orgasm of the night. His deep voice rumbles in pleasure-laden tones next to her ear. "You like that, don't you, baby?" he moans.

"Yes, Joongie, yes," her voice is higher pitched than usual, “Please, don’t stop!”

Hongjoong's pace quickens, his movements becoming more intense and primal as he edges closer to release. The tension between them builds, and Luna trembles in his firm hold. Her knees and thighs ache, her balance swaying as she clings to his arms for support. Sensing her struggle, he places both arms around her waist, slows his movements and delicately leans forward with her so is lying on her stomach once more.

“Do you want to lie down properly on your back?” Hongjoong asks gently, kissing her cheek

"Yes, please," Luna replies breathlessly, grateful for his care. He pulls out and helps her turn over, positioning her legs on his shoulders. His eyes meet her flushed face as he leans down, kissing her deeply as he pushes back inside.

“Is this more comfortable for you?” he whispers against her lips

"Mhm," she moans, already lost in pleasure. Her fingers run through his sweat soaked hair. "You feel incredible, Joongie," she says, eyes fluttering shut.

Hongjoong responds by increasing his pace, his hips slapping against Luna’s thighs as he drives deeper inside her. “You’re so tight and warm,” he groans.

Luna gasps, eyes as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, her fingers tightening on his arms. "Oh God, Joongie, right there," she pleads.

"Like this?" He adjusts his angle, hitting it again and again.

"Yes, yes, just like that," Luna moans, nails digging into his arms

Hongjoong continues to thrust into her, their bodies moving together in a smooth rhythm. "Luna, I'm getting close," he warns, his voice strained.

"Me too," she whines

"God, you feel incredible," Hongjoong praises as he feels Luna tighten around him. “Can I come inside you?”

Luna's eyes widen at his request, a mix of surprise and desire swirling in them. She nods eagerly, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Joongie!"

Hongjoong's pulse races at her words and the way she is now looking at him. The intensity of their connection grows as he picks up the pace, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge. "Hold onto me," he commands softly, moving her legs from his shoulders to his waist.

Luna complies, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her. “Kiss me, please.”

Hongjoong smiles sweetly before leaning down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together as they move in perfect rhythm. "You drive me crazy, Luna," he mumbles against her lips.

Luna gasps, her nails digging into Hongjoong's back. "Don't stop, Joongie. I'm almost there."

Hongjoong's moans grow deeper as he nears release. He thrusts harder and faster as control slips away. Luna's walls clench around him, urging him on. With a final, desperate groan, he releases inside of her. His cock throbs and pulses, filling her with his hot release. Her walls contract around him, her own climax crashing over her in waves. He relentlessly pounds into her, prolonging their ecstasy, until finally collapsing onto her in a satisfied haze.

Hongjoong feels Lunas heart racing against his chest, her breath hot and heavy against his neck. He delicately holds her head, keeping her close, as they both come down from the high, placing soft kisses on her shoulder. The room is filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and the sweet scent of sweat and sex. Hongjoong's cock twitches inside of her, still hard and throbbing.

Despite being exhausted and sensitive he can’t help but subtly move his hips. Luna lets out a small moan, moving her legs around his waist again, pulling them higher, urging him to continue.

“Again?” he whispers, looking at her through hooded lids

“Please.” she replies softly

He slowly moves his hips, thrusting into her gently as their lips connect. The instant pleasure of the gentle movements contrasts sharply with their previous rough activity but feels more intimate. Luna moans softly against his lips as he intertwines their fingers, continuing with slow yet precise movements.

Their bodies move in a harmonious rhythm, each thrust more languid than the last but still providing an intense pleasure to them both. The room, once filled with their passionate cries and noisy groans, now echoes with soft whispers and quiet moans. Their connection deepens, transcending into an emotional bond that neither of them had anticipated. Hongjoong can already feel himself on the edge but is holding back with all his might. Too embarrassed to admit he is ready to come from this slow encounter.

“Joongie…” she lightly whines, her small fingers grip tightly onto his hand, their intertwined fingers forming a bond that signifies their unity in this moment. “I-i’m close.”

“I’m close too, my love,” he smiles, relieved she is on the edge as well.

Luna arches her back in ecstasy, surrendering herself completely to the pleasure he is giving, her 4th and final orgasm of the night washing over her. “oh god, oh god, oh god.” Her quiet moans become soft cries of pleasure, echoing throughout the room as their passion reaches its climax. Hongjoong empties himself into her again. Once more relishing the sensation and intimacy of having no barrier between them.

In that final moment of utter bliss, they hold onto each other tightly, as if afraid to let go of this intoxicating connection. Their heavy breathing slowly subsides as they come down from the euphoric highs they've reached together.

Hongjoong can feel Luna's body relaxing beneath him, her grip on his body finally loosening. He finally pulls out slowly, wincing at the sensitivity of it all. His eyes catch sight of his cum leaking out of her.

“Shit,” he mumbles, grabbing his discarded boxers from the floor to gently clean the fluid from her.

After cleaning her up he throws his boxers aside and lies back down next to Luna. She instantly curls her body into his as he puts an arm around her. The silence in the room is comfortable, their bodies intertwined. Hongjoong's fingers trace lazy circles on Luna's skin, his touch gentle and soothing. His eyes watch her as she takes a deep breath, starting to come around. Her fingers begin to move gently against his bare chest.

"Wow," Luna finally says, her voice filled with wonder and satisfaction. "That was fucking incredible." a breathy laugh escapes her mouth

Hongjoong smiles down at her. "You're incredible," he corrects her, brushing a sweat soaked lock of hair from her forehead placing an affectionate kiss on her lips, “Was.. it okay for me to come inside you like I did?” he asks nervously

Luna giggles softly, trailing her fingers gently down Hongjoong's damp chest. "It felt amazing, Joongie," she reassures him with twinkling eyes. “Both times!”

“I should have asked beforehand, not in the moment like that.” he says

“If I didn’t want you to I would have said. In the heat of the moment or not, I still know what I want and what I don’t.” she smiles at him “And I knew the second you asked that I wanted you to. I trust you completely Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong exhales a relieved sigh, his concern fading as he gazes into Luna's eyes. "I treasure your trust, Luna. I just want to make sure you're comfortable and happy."

Leaning closer, Luna brushes her lips against his cheek, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses. "I am so happy with you," she whispers sincerely. “And with the others too.”

“I am glad.” he replies kissing her forehead and feeling a joy in his chest he hadn’t felt for a long time.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Hongjoong breaks the quietude with a soft question. "Do you want me to order us some food from room service?"

“I’m not hungry, I ate way too much for dinner plus the snacks on the rooftop.” she answers, “But if you are, go ahead and order something!” she adds

"I'm not hungry either, just thought you might be." He pauses, then adds, "We'll cuddle for a bit longer, but then you're drinking some water. You need to hydrate after all that!"

“You take such good care of me!” Luna smiles nuzzling her head further into his chest.

"Then it's a shower before coming back to bed. We have another full day tomorrow with the fansign and other schedules, so we need a proper sleep together." he says

"You want me to stay the night?" she asks, slightly surprised.

“Of course I do!” Hongjoong says looking down at her, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I guess I took you for a wanting to sleep alone kinda person.” she admits, feelings her cheeks warm

“You are always welcome in my bed anytime you want.” he smiles kissing her forehead

“For cuddling and sleeping… or other stuff?” she grins playfully

“For whatever you want, my love but if you want ‘other stuff’ then I’ll be kicking Seonghwa out!” he laughs “He can bunk with San!”

Luna laughs softly as she cuddles into him again, her heart overflowing with feelings for him, for all of them. She smiles at all the memories she is making and the cherished memories yet to come. But she knows the night she has just spent with Hongjoong, and how insanely intimate it became at the end and the newly formed bond they’ve created will forever be etched into her soul.

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