Eclipse || Seongjoong

By The_Slow_Simp

10.2K 547 2.2K

Hongjoong was a crazy man. Some might call him insane for his ambitious dreams. One of them being to possess... More

Warning Info
Destiny's Crew
Chapter 1: Mother Nature's Wrath
Chapter 2: The Elf Prince
CHAPTER 3: Promise
Chapter 4: Sea Legs
Chapter 5: Bunny
Chapter 6: Kindness
Chapter 7: A Siren's Song
Chapter 8: Jewels of the Soul
Chapter 9: Pearl
Chapter 10: Heaven's Door
Chapter 11: Linking
Chapter 12: Amethyst
Chapter 13: Paradise
Chapter 14: Braids
Chapter 15: Glass
Chapter 16: Kiss
Chapter 17: Luna
Chapter 19: Blue Tears
Chapter 20: Bioluminescent Bites
Chapter 21: Leaving
Chapter 22: Lock and Key

Chapter 18: Guts

358 20 79
By The_Slow_Simp


"There ye are," Chan welcomed Hongjoong back as he opened the door to his bar and locked it back up with Seonghwa. Hongjoong entered. "I am glad you are okay," he said softly to Seonghwa. We were all worried for you."

"I appreciate the concern," Seonghwa bowed, causing Chan to bow back in surprise awkwardly. "Your worry shall turn into blessings. I am Seonghwa, Heir to the Elven Kingdom. It is a pleasure to meet you," Seonghwa then held out his hand for Chan to shake.

If Chan hadn't possessed the insight to discern otherwise, the impression would undeniably have crossed his mind that Seonghwa was deliberately attempting to overshadow him. There was a marked change in Seonghwa's stature; he seemed to tower even taller than previously, casting an imposing figure. The firmness of his handshake bordered on excessive as if he sought to assert dominance through sheer physicality. And then there was the intensity of Seonghwa's gaze, a penetrating stare that seemed to bore into Chan's very being, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable despite his attempt at a nervous smile.

"Chan, nice to meet ya."

"I know," Seonghwa gave him a stiff smile before practically pushing his hand away. "But thank you for offering to help me."

"No...problem," Chan held his hand to his chest and moved out of the way.

"Don' be scared of 'em," Hongjoong said, pulling Seonghwa by his waist and gently putting him behind him. "Bunny is nothin' but a sweetheart."

"Right," Chan stretched his mouth into an awkward smile as Seonghwa continued to give him a slight glare. "Well, come on in... the man is over there," he pointed toward San.

"Seonghwa," San smiled, still holding a blade to the man's neck as he sat on a chair. "Ye healed, mate!"

"How..." The man's eyes grew in fear as Seonghwa slowly approached his. "There be no way."

"There totally is," Seonghwa said, his countenance a portrait of stoic determination. He strode purposefully toward the man who had dared to lay hands upon him. Each movement was a masterclass in poise and grace. His head held high, chin parallel to the ground, exuding an air of unshakable confidence. Despite the stains of violence marring his attire, his bearing remained regal, as though he were clad in the finest silks money could buy.

He seemed to glide across the ground with each step, his gait a fluid dance of controlled power. His arms, folded with a controlled elegance over his waist, bespoke both restraint and readiness. Once pristine, the fabric of his clothing now bore the evidence of his recent altercation – streaks of crimson mingling with the grime of the streets.

Yet, amidst the disarray, there was a certain allure to his presence. His once meticulously braided hair cascaded freely around his shoulders, a tangled veil of silvery strands that whispered of forgotten elegance. The icy hue of his locks, dulled by the dirt and blood that now marred them, lent an otherworldly quality to his appearance.

As he drew nearer, Seonghwa raised a hand to brush aside the tangled curtain of hair, revealing the striking feature hidden beneath. His fingers deftly tucked a lock behind his ear, unveiling the slender, pointed tip that marked him as something more than human – a creature of myth and legend, walking amongst mortals with an ethereal grace that left onlookers spellbound.

The man gasped as his eyes trembled. He looked at the crew, back to Seonghwa, before switching his glances back and forth. "I knew ye weren't no ordinary man, but this be impossible."

"I don't think I gave you permission to speak," Seonghwa's demeanor shifted as he fixed a piercing glare upon the man before him, his lips curling slightly to reveal a set of clenched teeth while his eyes burned with a potent mix of abhorrence and disdain. His dark, icy hair cascaded over his ear like a veil of frost, lending an air of cold intensity to his presence. With a graceful motion, he crossed his arms over his waist; every movement imbued with a sense of elegant defiance as if daring the man to challenge him further.

"I don't believe a monster can speak...right?" Seonghwa, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and intensity, tilted his head slightly, hinting at his intrigue. With a deliberate movement, he extended his hand, palm up, a silent command implicit in the gesture. Hongjoong, his steps purposeful and swift, approached, his demeanor exuding a blend of confidence and arrogance. He carried a gleaming knife in his hand, its blade catching the light in an ominous glint.

As he reached Seonghwa, he placed the knife into his waiting hand with a fluid motion, the weapon's weight a familiar presence. With a derisive snort, Hongjoong glanced disdainfully at the figure kneeling before them, a contemptuous sneer twisting his lips. Once proud and defiant, the man's posture now betrayed a hint of desperation, his form bowed in submission before the two figures who held power over him.

"Aye, Bunny," Hongjoong's expression tightened into a scowl as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, a clear sign of his disdain. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Seonghwa, he projected an aura of unwavering disapproval; his gaze fixated on the man before them with an intensity that spoke volumes of his disdain.

The lines etched into his furrowed brow mirrored the depth of his revulsion, while his narrowed eyes held a glint of barely contained frustration. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense, emphasizing his utter contempt for the individual in their presence. With each passing moment, it became increasingly evident that Hongjoong's displeasure was not merely surface-level but a visceral reaction rooted in profound disgust.

"I don' believe they do...but ye know what happens when monsters act out of line?"

"Oh? And what would that be, Captain Hongjoong?" Seonghwa stood before Hongjoong, twirling the knife between his fingers with practiced finesse. Each rotation was fluid, the blade catching the light as it danced through the air. A mischievous grin played across Seonghwa's lips, his eyes alight with a playful glint.

As Seonghwa spoke the word "Captain," there was a palpable shift in the atmosphere. It was as if a switch had been flipped within Hongjoong's mind. He struggled to maintain his composure, to keep the mask of stoicism firmly in place. But as the words "Captain Hongjoong" slipped from Seonghwa's tongue, a rush of emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

Hongjoong fought to suppress the burgeoning smile that threatened to break free, his features contorting in a battle against his own feelings. Yet, despite his best efforts, the mere mention of his title by Seonghwa stirred something profound within him. It was a mixture of pride, excitement, and perhaps a hint of disbelief that someone as skilled and respected as Seonghwa would bestow such a title upon him.

At that moment, Hongjoong's concentration wavered. His mind became consumed with thoughts of the responsibilities and expectations that came with his role as captain. But amidst the flurry of emotions, one thing remained clear – the undeniable bond of camaraderie and respect between him and Seonghwa, evident in the playful exchange of words and the twinkle in Seonghwa's eyes.

"Captain?" Seonghwa spoke again after a moment had passed, but there was no word from Hongjoong.

"Hmm? Ah! Right," Hongjoong stealthily maneuvered himself behind Seonghwa, his movements silent and calculated. As he approached, he noticed Seonghwa's hand tightly gripping the knife, poised in readiness. With a swift and deft motion, Hongjoong gently intertwined his fingers with Seonghwa's, applying just enough pressure to signal his presence without startling him.

The blade, previously aimed at the pathetic figure standing before them, now felt the subtle guidance of Hongjoong's touch as he redirected it, aligning it with their intended target. His touch was both reassuring and commanding, a silent reassurance of unity and solidarity in their shared mission.

As Hongjoong's hand found its place intertwined with Seonghwa's, he extended his other hand to rest on the Elf's shoulder, his touch light yet firm. Leaning in, he placed his chin on Seonghwa's shoulder, his breath barely brushing against the other's ear. In this intimate moment, amidst the tension and anticipation, Hongjoong conveyed his support and a silent understanding of the gravity of their situation.

"We cut out their tongues and make sure they can never speak out again," Hongjoong smirked, making Seonghwa's hand point the knife to the pathetic man's eye. "Doesn't that sound fun, Bunny?"

"It sounds like a joyous time, indeed," Seonghwa's lips mirrored Hongjoong's, his smirk growing wide as he allowed Hongjoong to take control of his hand.

"Wait, now," The pathetic man scoffed. "Who even are ye, really? He didn't die, and I couldn't even do anything, so I'm an innocent man."

Hongjoong sensed a sudden tension gripping Seonghwa's body like a vice, his muscles tightening and his hands quivering with an ominous fury as the man's words pierced the air. With a swift but gentle movement, Hongjoong instinctively retreated a step, his fingers gliding up the length of Seonghwa's elbow with deliberate caution.

As Seonghwa's hair threatened to obscure his vision in the heat of the moment, Hongjoong reached out, delicately sweeping the strands away from his face, exposing the intensity burning in Seonghwa's eyes. In that charged moment, Hongjoong understood the brewing storm within Seonghwa and recognized the necessity of granting him the space to unleash it.

"Now, Bunny," Hongjoong whispered in Seonghwa's ear, just loud enough for a few to hear. "I thought he needed yer permission to speak, aye?" With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Hongjoong's lips curved into a sly grin as he subtly shifted his position, creating a gap between himself and Seonghwa. His movements were deliberate, a silent cue to his companions, Wooyoung and San, who exchanged a quick glance before comprehending his unspoken directive.

As if choreographed, San and Wooyoung mirrored Hongjoong's actions, discreetly edging away from the trio. Each step they took seemed purposeful, widening the distance between them and the trio until they stood at a respectable distance, effectively granting Seonghwa uninterrupted space with the man before them.

The air was charged with anticipation as Seonghwa now stood alone, facing the enigmatic figure before him. Hongjoong's knowing gaze lingered on the scene, his expression hinting at silent encouragement for Seonghwa to take charge of the moment, while Wooyoung and San observed from a distance, ready to support their friend if needed.

"Aye," Seonghwa nodded, quickly moving the blade to act as if he was going to stab the man but instead cut the rope off his body. "But the man is right...He didn't kill me, nor did he actually get to do his disgusting thoughts upon me."

The man freed his arms and rubbed his wrist, looking up at Seonghwa with pure confusion.

"So, I will free him," Seonghwa's hand cautiously cradled the blade as he placed it at his side, its weight a familiar comfort against his hip. As he adjusted the weapon, a subtle shift in the air caught his attention, and he glanced over to see Wooyoung deftly slipping another blade into his waiting grasp, his movements swift and silent as though guided by an unspoken understanding. It was as if Hongjoong's thoughts had been transmitted to him through some unseen connection.

The sudden movement of the man before them drew Seonghwa's focus back to the present. Rising from his seated position, he straightened his posture, a hint of disdain curling his lip as he folded his arms across his chest in a display of confident defiance. With a pointed gesture, he directed his attention to both Seonghwa and Hongjoong, his eyes narrowing in a silent challenge that crackled with tension.

"And who might ye fuckers be, huh? Ye actin' like all the shit," The pathetic man glared at Hongjoong, who was leaning against the table and using his sword as a pole to lean to the side on.

"Me?" Hongjoong smirked, his eyes filled with sly confidence. "I'm just a man who happens to be a pirate. Him?" With fluid grace, Hongjoong's leg swept up, the muscles in his thigh tensing as he precisely moved. His foot connected with the side of his sword, sending it spiraling into the air in a mesmerizing arc.

As if choreographed by a master dancer, his hand intercepted the weapon mid-flight, fingers wrapping around the hilt with practiced ease. The gleaming blade, forged with care and honed to perfection, seemed to hum with anticipation as it was reunited with its master's touch. With a swift and controlled motion, Hongjoong guided the sword back into its scabbard, the metallic click echoing softly in the air, a testament to his skill and precision.Hongjoong's hip.

"That be the heir to a fuckin' kingdom, ye scumbag. Show him respect," Hongjoong's smile dropped at the end of his sentence, his face stoic and threatening.

"Oh, Captain," Seonghwa smiled, tilting his head to the side, but his eyes never left the pathetic man's movements. "You're making me blush. Now, now, don't be so humbled. You are the Pirate King, are you not?"

As Seonghwa uttered the ominous phrase "Pirate King," a palpable tension suffused the air, electrifying the atmosphere with foreboding. The pitiful man before them seemed to quiver involuntarily, his very being shaken to the core by the weight of those words. Once aimless, now fixated with dread, his gaze gradually shifted towards Hongjoong, who stood like a sentinel of resolve, his features carved in stoicism.

With each passing moment, the man's fear became palpable, manifesting in the clenching of his trembling fists and the pallor that drained from his complexion, leaving him ghostly pale. Hongjoong's unwavering stare bore into him, piercing through the facade of bravado he had attempted to maintain, laying bare the raw vulnerability that lurked beneath.

Anxiety danced in the depths of the man's eyes, a silent plea for mercy betrayed by the tremor in his voice as he struggled to find his footing in the face of overwhelming intimidation. Yet, Hongjoong remained unmoved, his presence a testament to the formidable power he commanded, casting a shadow that engulfed the feeble soul before him in a tempest of fear and uncertainty.

"Yer fuckin' jokin'!" The man scoffed, turning to look at the crew as if he wanted support. "There be no way this scallywag is the Pirate King! I mean, like at 'em!" The man soon started to chuckle nervously when no one showed any proof otherwise.

"Well," Hongjoong's signature "insane" grin slowly crept onto his face; he tilted his head slightly to glare at the man with much hatred. It seems like we have become nonbelievers. Should I prove it?"

"What could ye even do anyway?" The despicable figure sneered with contempt, his demeanor oozing with arrogance as he advanced toward Hongjoong. His strides were deliberate yet laden with a false sense of bravado that barely concealed his underlying trepidation. Each step seemed to reverberate ominously, the floorboards protesting loudly under the burden of his weight, groaning in protest as if forewarning of the impending clash between righteousness and villainy.

Yet, as the wretched man dared to draw closer, his facade of courage crumbling with each passing moment, Hongjoong remained resolute. With a calculated swiftness that belied his calm exterior, he unsheathed his blade, the steel gleaming with a deadly sheen as it sliced through the air with lethal precision.

In an instant, the tension reached its zenith. The air crackled with anticipation as Hongjoong's blade found its mark, severing the man's ear in a single, decisive stroke. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the acrid scent of fear, filling the room with an aura of primal intensity as the pathetic man recoiled in agony, his cries echoing against the unforgiving walls.

It was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the inexorable clash between justice and depravity. Hongjoong stood unwavering amidst the chaos, his resolve unyielding against the forces of darkness that sought to engulf him.

With a jolt of shock, the man's hand shot up to his throbbing head, his palm instantly slick with warm blood where his ear had just been. The metallic tang of his own life force filled his nostrils as he staggered backward, his gaze fixated on the grotesque sight of his severed ear lying in a pool of crimson blood on the polished wooden floor. Each pulse of pain seemed to echo through the room, mingling with the muffled sounds of his gasps for breath.

Hongjoong, his assailant, stood tall and menacing, the glint of his sword catching the dim light as he deftly twirled it in the air. The rhythmic swish of the blade seemed almost hypnotic, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding before the injured man's eyes. The crimson streaks splattered across the floorboards like macabre brushstrokes, a grisly testament to the violence that had erupted in this once-serene space.

As the wounded man struggled to steady himself, his vision blurred with pain and fear; Hongjoong advanced with calculated steps, a predatory grin spreading across his lips. His movements were fluid and precise, betraying a lethal expertise that sent shivers down the victim's spine. The sense of impending doom grew heavier with every inch closer, suffocating the air around them.

Despite his trembling limbs and the overwhelming urge to flee, the man found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze locked onto the figure before him. Hongjoong's smile widened, a chilling glimmer of satisfaction dancing in his eyes as he relished the fear radiating from his prey. It was a twisted dance of predator and prey, played out in the somber shadows of a room stained with blood and betrayal.

"Go...or yer ear won' be the only thing I cut off."

The man's frantic movements were desperate, his hands tightly gripping his throbbing head as he staggered upright, propelled by a primal urge to flee. With unsteady steps, he surged towards the beckoning exit, driven by a mix of fear and determination.

Meanwhile, amidst the chaotic scene, a silent exchange passed between Hongjoong and Seonghwa. In a fleeting moment, Hongjoong's gaze met Seonghwa's, and a subtle wink conveyed an unspoken understanding. With a smirk playing on his lips, Seonghwa swiftly sprang into action.

Seonghwa's hands darted to his sides in a display of seamless agility, retrieving the twin blades that hung sheathed at his hips. With a fluid motion, he propelled both blades forward with remarkable speed and precision. The first blade found its mark, slicing through the air with deadly accuracy to embed itself into the vulnerable flesh just below the man's hairline. Simultaneously, the second blade followed suit, finding its target just below the midpoint of his back.

The effect was immediate and devastating. The man's frantic momentum faltered as the cruel embrace of the twin blades abruptly halted his body. A strangled gasp escaped his lips as searing pain engulfed him, his limbs failing him as he crumpled to the ground in a grotesque heap. Crimson liquid welled from the wounds, staining the floor in a spreading pool of blood, a stark testament to the swift and merciless justice that had been served.

"Well," Wooyoung was the first to speak, slowly standing beside Seonghwa. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting ye to kill 'em."

"Aye," San joined in as he, too, took his stance beside Seonghwa. "But I am glad ye did!" He praised, giving Seonghwa's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Ye are now part of the crew!"

"Huh?" Seonghwa looked at both Wooyoung and San in confusion as he once again laid his hands gracefully over his waist. "What in heavens do you mean?"

"Normally, ye ain't officially part of the crew unless ye took yer first life to defend yerself or another. It be how we all joined," San explained, resting his hands on his hips. "And now that ye have, ye are officially a part of the Destiny Crew!"

"Oh," Seonghwa chuckled, covering his smile with his hand. "I didn't kill him."

"Eh?"

"You see," Seonghwa gracefully walked over toward the pig-like man, moving to harshly quickly him at his side, but the man did not move a muscle. "I punctured him on his neck just where the nerve connects to the spinal cord, and just in case, I also hit him here," he pointed at the knife just below the disgusting man's mid-back. "This is where it gathers information from the brain to move your body, to control your muscle movements. If you...let's say, disconnect the nerves...you become..."

"Ye fuckin' paralyzed him?" Wooyoung asked, stars practically glowing in his eyes as he mentally noted the areas Seoghwa punctured. "That's fuckin' amazin', mate!"

"Okay, yes," San nodded, his eyes also showing his admiration for Seonghwa's actions. "But why?"

"Oh, yes, that reminds me," Seonghwa dusted his hands and turned to Hongjoong. "Where might my lovely...Shark friend, go?"

"Shark friend?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow before adding two and two together. "Oh! Yeosang? He's upstairs. Jongho and Soyeon took them up there to avoid him eating everyone."

"Perfect!" Seonghwa clapped his hands. "Captain, would be a dear and call them-."

"Jongho! Soyeon! Bring ye arses down here!" Hongjoong, his voice echoing through the room's stillness, cupped his hands over his mouth, creating a makeshift megaphone. His call rang out, reverberating off the walls, as he beckoned for his companions to locate him amidst the space.

Seonghwa's expression, betraying a subtle irritation, observed Hongjoong's actions but ultimately chose to ignore the minor disturbance. Instead, he focused on the approaching sound of footsteps, signaling the arrival of their fellow comrades descending the staircase with purposeful strides.

"We're here already," Jongho's voice echoed from the stairway. "We were waiting to see if you needed us or not." As Jongho descended the spiral staircase, Seonghwa's keen eyes caught sight of Yeosang clinging to his lover's side like a shadow. Well, Seonghwa assumed Yeosang considered Jongho his lover.

A slender piece of wood was clenched between his teeth, groaning under the relentless pressure of his powerful jaws. Yeosang's once lively complexion now bore a haunting pallor, his features drained of their former vitality. His eyes gleamed with a predatory intensity, reminiscent of a tiger stalking its prey through the dense undergrowth. Despite the danger in his gaze, his movements were calculated, ensuring that no harm befell Jongho in his presence.

Yeosang's long black locks cascaded down his back, swaying gently with each measured step he took down the staircase. The pointed tips of his Siren ears peeked through the tangled strands of his hair, a subtle reminder of his otherworldly nature. His allure was undeniable, a testament to the ethereal beauty of his kind, yet Seonghwa remained steadfast in his resistance to the Siren's charms.

Though Yeosang possessed the captivating grace of his species, Seonghwa knew that his heart could never succumb to the enchantments of a Siren. Despite that, he remained resolute in his commitment to his own principles, steadfastly refusing to surrender to the allure of Yeosang's siren song.

Seonghwa had standards.

"Ah, perfect," Seonghwa walked over toward Yeosang, watching his sharp eyes never leave the body of the pig-like man. "Prince Yeosang," Seonghwa, with graceful fluidity, executed a deep, reverent bow, each movement meticulously calculated to adhere to the intricate rituals of Siren culture. His spine arched elegantly, his posture impeccable as he dipped low, symboling deference and honor. His hands, adorned with intricate patterns reminiscent of the ancient Siren customs, unfurled slowly, each finger extending with deliberate grace.

As he straightened, the air seemed to ripple around him, his presence commanding attention. With a subtle yet purposeful gesture, he crossed his arms over his chest, the movement deliberate and precise, forming a symbolic crown-like shape above his head. This gesture was steeped in tradition, a silent declaration of his intent to show utmost respect and regard to Yeosang.

Every detail, from the curve of his spine to the arrangement of his fingers, spoke volumes of Seonghwa's reverence and sincerity. Amidst the subtle dance of gestures and postures, the depth of his respect for Yeosang and his adherence to Siren customs was unmistakable.

"I humbly thank you for offering your knowledge to Hongjoong so he could save my life. For that," Seonghwa slowly moved back up and motioned toward the disgusting man still lying paralyzed on the floor. "I hope you like my gift....and I pray you are not picky."

Yeosang's attention was instantly captured, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and anticipation as he turned towards Seonghwa, his expression akin to someone who had just been offered a priceless treasure. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his features as he glanced at Jongho, seeking approval or guidance. However, he found only a nonchalant shrug in response, as if Jongho didn't want to intervene in Yeosang's decision. Encouraged by Jongho's laissez-faire demeanor, Yeosang slowly disentangled himself from Jongho's arm, his movements deliberate and measured.

Returning the gesture of respect, Yeosang reciprocated Seonghwa's bow with one of his own, executed with the grace and precision of an ancient ritual. His bow bore the hallmark of Elven custom, a testament to his heritage and upbringing. With practiced finesse, he placed his right hand over his heart, a gesture symbolizing sincerity and reverence, while extending his left hand outward in a gesture of offering as if presenting his most cherished possession. His eyes remained fixed on Seonghwa, awaiting the reciprocal gesture that would seal their bond.

Seonghwa, with a warm smile adorning his lips, mirrored Yeosang's movements with effortless elegance. His right hand joined Yeosang's over his heart, their palms meeting in a silent pledge of mutual respect and understanding. As their hands touched, a fleeting connection sparked between them, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they were forging.

With the formalities observed, Yeosang slowly withdrew the slender wooden pipe from between his lips, his teeth glinting like polished ivory in the dim light. Each word he spoke emerged with a deliberate cadence, his voice carrying a melodic quality that seemed to resonate with an otherworldly charm. He spoke softly, almost hesitantly, his words laced with a subtle enchantment as if he feared the power of his own voice to weave spells and ensnare unwary souls.

"Are ye offering me the disgusting man behind ye?" Yeosang raised his eyebrow.

"Yes," Seonghwa placed his hands over his waist. "Unless you do not wish to... consume him. Then I will simply get rid of him."

"And waste a perfectly good meal?" Yeosang, his expression twisted with disdain, strode purposefully toward the paralyzed figure lying on the floor. Each step seemed to carry an air of superiority, his posture rigid with confidence.

As he drew closer, he leaned down with deliberate grace, his movements exuding a sense of deliberate mockery. With a contemptuous snort, he extended his hand and prodded the immobilized man, the touch carrying a mixture of derision and amusement.

"Oh! And he is still alive!" Yeosang's gaze ascended to meet Seonghwa's, a potent mix of malice and pleasure dancing in his eyes. In a swift and calculated motion, he thrust his sharp claws into the unsuspecting man's back, the force of his attack unleashing a geyser of crimson from the wound. The sensation of flesh yielding beneath his claws sent a shiver of exhilaration down Yeosang's spine, his senses electrified by the raw intensity of the moment.

With a visceral tug, he withdrew his claws, relishing the sight of blood cascading down his fingers in rivulets. The metallic scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the heady scent of adrenaline. Yeosang brought his hand to his lips, the ruby blood droplets trailing a path down his palm as he indulged in the taste of his conquest. Each drop was a testament to his power, a crimson elixir that fueled the darkness within him.

"Believe it or not," Yeosang grinned as Seonghwa tried his best to hold back any expression of disgust. "The eviler they are, the more flavor they have. That's why we Sirens..feast on pirates," Yeosang grinned, licking his lips before looking at Hongjoong with a smug look. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and made his eyes to stand beside Seonghwa, looking down at Yeosang.

"Perfect," Seonghwa smiled, moving to yank out the knives from the man's back. "My only request is that you make him feel pain, for he can't move, but he can feel every single thing."

"Damn!" Wooyoung cursed, causing everyone to look at him. "My bad, mate. Go on with ye cruel plan."

Seonghwa returned his attention to Yeosang and held out his hands. "Please accept this as a thank you and apology for my biases toward Sirens...towards you."

Yeosang stayed silent for a few seconds before sighing and shaking Seonghwa's hand, which still had blood on it. "I'll half accept it."

"Understandable," Seonghwa's fingers trembled slightly as he reluctantly released his grip, the sensation of their clasped hands lingering for a moment longer before they parted. With a resigned sigh, he observed the crimson stains smeared across his palm, remnants of the altercation that had just transpired. Without a word, he used the fabric of Hongjoong's shirt to blot away the blood, the material absorbing the evidence of their conflict.

Hongjoong, unperturbed by the additional smears of Seonghwa's blood now decorating his attire, watched in silence, his expression a mixture of weariness and understanding. Each stain on his shirt bore witness to their shared struggles, a testament to the trials he had faced just moments before. As Seonghwa finished cleaning his hand, Hongjoong smoothly adjusted his shirt's fabric, tucking it neatly around his waist once more.

"My only request is that you leave his head."

"Why is that?"

"'Cause I wanna use his fuckin' head as a warning to let people know what happens when they mess with us," Hongjoong smiled slightly. "And that includes you, ye know," he pointed at Yeosang. "Stick with us, and I promise ye to feed you with the horrid monsters that dare themselves men."

"And women," Yeosang grinned, picking a piece of flesh from his claw. "I eat anything and anyone. I don't discriminate against my food."

"Trust me," Hongjoong grinned, crossing his arms. "Neither do I."

"We are talkin' about two very different types of eating, but I appreciate the gesture," Yeosang said, standing up and placing his hands on his hips. "I see you are no longer affected by me spell."

"Hmm?"

"Never mind," Yeosang said, shaking it off and nodding his head. "Aye, then, Captain. I'll be sure to chew everything off his fuckin' bones."

"Thank ye."

"Thank you."

Seonghwa and Hogjoong exchanged synchronized utterances, their voices melding into harmony as if choreographed by some unseen force. In a spontaneous moment of perfect timing, they both pivoted to face each other, their eyes locking in mutual surprise before erupting into a chorus of laughter. The air between them crackled with shared amusement, each chuckle resonating with the joy of unexpected coincidence. It was a fleeting yet precious moment, a testament to their unspoken connection as new friends.

"Okay, anyone gonna question how they were just fightin' about who got to sleep in the Captain quarter, and now they are fuckin' each other's arses?"

"Wooyoung!"

"What?" Wooyoung shrugged, looking at everyone in the room. "I'm right!"

"Not the time," Hongjoong said, giving him a warning look that caused him to silence himself. The captain then turned to Yeosang, who was already about to bite into the man's arm. "How long do you think this is gonna take?"

"Lookin' at the size of him," Yeosang flattened his hand and shook it before shrugging. "Like ten minutes."

"Excuse me?" San's mouth dropped. "It takes Mingi twenty minutes to eat a loaf of bread."

"Well, is Mingi a siren?"

"No."

"There is your answer."

"Ah," San nodded.

"Hey, where are Yunho and Mingi?" Seonghwa asked, his once-smiling face now worried and concerned. "I hope they are okay."

"They are fine," Jongho said, causing everyone to turn to find him drinking a beer at a table. "They went back to the Inn. Yunho was perfectly fine, but they were both covered in blood that was not their own. They are planning to go to Diamond Wishes Springs after we return."

"The waterfall?" Wooyoung's eyes started to glow. "Man! I wanna go already! It's been forever since I bathed in hot water."

"Aye, aye, we will all go tonight. Once Yeosang is done, we can stick as a group," Hongjoong offered, moving to sit beside Jongho and snatching the beer from him.

"But it will be near dawn...will you guys not be tired?" Seonghwa asked, watching the pirates move to sit at the table where Jongho and Hongjoong were.

"Sleep? Mate, do ye forget who we are?" Wooyoung playfully teased. "We barely get sleep on the damn ship. Besides, if ye keep us entertained, we can stay awake for days. Right, Cap?"

Seonghw's gaze honed in, his eyes narrowing as he observed the scene unfolding before him with laser-like focus. His heart quickened its pace as Wooyoung leaned in, resting his head tenderly upon Hongjoong's shoulder. The tableau froze Seonghw in his tracks.

Hongjoong, stoic and unwavering, simply nodded in response. His demeanor was composed and unmoving even as Wooyoung's presence pressed upon him. The moment's weight hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken emotions and tangled sentiments.

A tumultuous whirlwind of conflicting sensations churned within Seonghwa's chest, a sensation akin to molasses slowly enveloping his heart. Despite his best efforts to maintain a facade of congeniality, the strange and unsettling sensation refused to be ignored, casting a shadow over his otherwise serene countenance. Each passing moment only exacerbated the uncomfortable knot that had formed within him.

Before Seonghwa could utter a word in response, the atmosphere was abruptly shattered by a bone-crushing crunch that echoed through the air, sending a collective shiver down the spines of all present. The sound, unmistakable in its grisly nature, seemed to freeze the very air, as if time itself had paused to bear witness to the macabre spectacle unfolding.

Every ear in the vicinity strained to catch the squelching, squishing sounds that followed, a grim symphony of flesh rending and tearing. It was the unmistakable sound of a lioness tearing into her prey with savage abandon, each slurp and rip sending shivers down the spine. Seonghwa, his heart pounding in his chest, remained rooted to the spot, a chill coursing through his veins as he resisted the urge to turn and face the source of the ghastly noises.

For he knew all too well what lurked behind him, hidden from view yet vividly imagined in his mind's eye. Yeosang, Siren turned to his original predator form and indulged in the feast of vengeance that Seonghwa had unwittingly unleashed upon his enemy. The mere thought made Seonghwa's stomach churn with revulsion, bile rising in his throat as he struggled to contain the urge to retch.

Around him, the other pirates stood frozen in a tableau of shock and horror, their expressions a twisted medley of disgust, morbid fascination, and primal fear. Some recoiled in revulsion, unable to tear their gaze away from the gruesome spectacle unfolding before them, while others watched with a morbid curiosity that bordered on fascination.

Despite his instinctive desire to shield himself from the grotesque reality behind him, Seonghwa succumbed to the irresistible pull of curiosity. With trembling hands and a sense of trepidation gnawing at his insides, he began to turn slowly, each movement weighted with a sense of impending dread.

As his gaze finally fell upon the scene unfolding behind him, Seonghwa's worst fears were realized in vivid detail. There, bathed in the sickly glow of torchlight, Yeosang stood amidst a carnage of flesh and bone, his features obscured by the crimson mask of his wrath. In his hands, he held the torn remnants of Seonghwa's enemy; his lips curled into a feral snarl as he devoured his prey with unholy fervor.

As the scene unfolded, a grisly ballet of violence, pieces of flesh and crushed bone cascaded to the ground beside Yeosang, mingling with the scarlet pool that formed beneath him. His countenance, once human, was now obscured by a mask of crimson, the lifeblood of his victim painting his features in a grotesque mockery of a smile.

Each tooth within Yeosang's mouth seemed honed to a razor's edge, effortlessly rending through flesh and sinew as though they were naught but tender morsels. With a savage grace, his claws sank into the man's side, carving through layers of tissue and muscle with a sickening squelch, each motion a macabre symphony of destruction. Guts spilled forth, snaking between his fingers like writhing serpents, as he greedily devoured them with voracious hunger.

With a predatory instinct, Yeosang seized the man's arm, his grip unyielding as he tore it from its socket with a cacophony of snaps and pops, the sound of rending flesh accompanied by the sickening squish of severed tendons. Blood erupted in a crimson arc, painting the air in a gruesome tableau, as Yeosang's smirk widened beneath the mask of gore that now obscured his visage, his tongue darting out to taste the coppery tang that coated his lips.

Undeterred by the carnage, he moved with an eerie efficiency, each limb sundered from its host with a ruthless precision that spoke of practiced brutality. In mere moments, he reduced the man to a broken, lifeless husk, his insatiable hunger sated for the time being. And as he stood amidst the wreckage of his victim, a silent sentinel of death, there was no trace of remorse in his eyes, only the cold hunger of a predator on the prowl.

The sight was enough to make Seonghwa's blood run cold, his mind reeling with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Yet, even as he struggled to comprehend the nightmarish tableau before him, a part of him couldn't help but feel a perverse sense of satisfaction at the sight of justice being served, no matter how grotesque its form.

Midway through his meal, Yeosang's jaws paused their relentless descent, and he lifted his gaze, as if drawn by an unseen force, to meet the eyes of the motley crew surrounding him. Their expressions ranged from disbelief to horror, their eyes wide with shock and revulsion. The air was thick with tension, charged with the palpable unease of witnessing such a grisly spectacle.

In the dim light of the tavern, Yeosang's features were cast in shadow, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. His movements, though deliberate, were almost predatory, as if he relished every moment of tearing through the sinew and flesh before him. Each bite seemed calculated, executed with a disturbing precision that spoke volumes of an unhinged mind.

As the crew watched on, a collective sense of dread settled over them like a suffocating blanket. It was as though they were witnessing something beyond comprehension, something primal and deeply unsettling. Yeosang's actions seemed to defy all reason, as if he existed in a realm of his own, disconnected from the norms of civilized society.

And yet, despite the horror unfolding before them, they could not tear their eyes away. It was a morbid fascination, an instinctual urge to witness the macabre spectacle before them. Each crunch of bone, each slurp of gore seemed to echo in the silence, a grotesque symphony of savagery that held them captive in its thrall.

Yeosang was more than just a man devouring his meal; he was a primal force unleashed, a reminder of the darkness that lurked within us all. And as the crew watched on, transfixed by the horror unfolding before them, they couldn't help but wonder what other horrors lay hidden beneath the surface of their seemingly ordinary world.

"What? Did ye think I was gonna use a fuckin' fork and knife?"

"Want a napkin...or something?" Jongho offered, his smile slightly turning downward. "Maybe...a plate?"

"I am good," Yeosang wiped his lips with his forearm before licking the blood off. "This is normally much cleaner in water..."

"My floors," Chan whined, pouting as he saw the flesh and blood mess on his bar's wooden floors. I just cleaned it... ah, man..."

"I do apologize," Seonghwa bowed toward Chan. "I can clean this up for you once my Siren companion is finished."

"It's okay," Chan chuckled, walking to grab the mop off the wall. "It will give me something to do."

"Mates," Yeosang stood up, his features sharp as his claws at his side, and he began to pant. "Imma warn ye all right now," his breath grew heavy, and his neck twitched to the side. "I am goin' to go fuckin' insane..."

"Do whatever ye want, Yeoie," Jongho said, snatching his beer back from a stunned Hongjoong, who was still trying to process the gruesome scene before him. But don' forget to tie your hair back."

"Aye, thanks," Yeosang's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he seized the man by his skull, feeling the delicate bones yield under his grip. He hurled the helpless figure over deftly, relishing in the palpable fear that danced in the man's broad, desperate eyes. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to prolong the terror that gripped his victim's soul.

As the man lay sprawled before him, his body a canvas of agony, Yeosang's gaze remained icy and unyielding. With a flick of his wrist, he secured a small ribbon tied around his wrist, taming the wild tresses that framed his face. The gesture was almost mocking, starkly contrasting to the following brutality.

His sharpened claws, gleaming like obsidian in the dim light, punctured the man's chest with a sickening squelch. A chorus of anguished cries filled the air as Yeosang burrowed deeper, sinking into the soft tissue of the man's lungs. Each tear was precise and methodical as if he were dissecting a specimen in a laboratory of cruelty.

The sound of rending flesh and snapping bone drowned out the man's feeble protests. With a savage flourish, Yeosang tore through sinew and muscle; his hands were painted crimson with the evidence of his savagery. A primal hunger gnawed at his core, driving him to feast upon the very essence of his prey.

With a feral hunger burning in his eyes, Yeosang plucked a few rib bones from the shattered cage of the man's chest, savoring the brittle crunch as he chewed upon them with relish. Each morsel was a symphony of pain and pleasure, a testament to his unbridled power and cruelty.

In the aftermath of his violence, the air hung heavy with the stench of blood and death. Yeosang stood amidst the wreckage of his conquest, his form a silhouette against the flickering shadows. And as he licked the remnants of his feast from his fingers, there was no remorse in his heart, only the insatiable hunger of a predator who knew no mercy.

"Man! It's been so fuckin' long!"

"Ain't he the cutest?" Jongho grinned, nudging Hongjoong with his shoulder. Hongjoong slowly turned toward his boat swain, his face daunting.

"Aye," Hongjoong slightly gagged before turning to look back at the Siren, now chewing on the man's side like a tiger eating a zebra. "Just the cutest."

"Okay," Seonghwa's stomach churned violently, threatened by the acrid stench of rust and blood that saturated the air, assaulting his senses with its metallic tang. With each breath, the nauseating aroma seemed to coil around him like a suffocating shroud, intensifying his dizziness. He clenched his teeth, desperately fighting the urge to retch as his vision blurred, the world tilting dangerously around him.

His legs wobbled beneath him, weakened by the overwhelming onslaught of odors that seemed to permeate every corner of the room. Grasping for stability, he reached out and gripped the edge of a nearby table, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. The cold, hard surface offered scant reassurance as he struggled to regain his composure, his mind reeling from the sickening spectacle before him.

"I need to leave; I can not stand the smell or sight," Seonghwa clutched his stomach, shaking his head. "I do apologize, Prince Yeosang."

"Go on, snowflake," Yeosang said, his words muffled with flesh between his teeth. "I be almost done anyway."

"I can see that," Seonghwa's nod was hesitant. His normally composed expression was now tinged with a flush that crept up from the base of his neck to his cheeks, painting them a subtle shade of crimson. His lips, usually poised in a serene line, now quivered slightly as an unsettling sensation churned within him. It was as if an invisible hand clenched his stomach, twisting and writhing with a nauseating intensity.

As he swallowed back the rising bile, a bitter taste filled his mouth, and he couldn't shake the sensation that his insides were on the verge of revolt. His senses seemed heightened, every sound and scent magnified, overwhelming him as he fought to maintain his composure.

With each passing moment, the urge to vomit grew more insistent, a relentless pressure building behind his temples. His throat constricted, an instinct urging him to expel the contents of his roiling stomach. Yet, he forced himself to maintain a facade of control, though beads of perspiration dotted his brow, betraying the turmoil within.

In that agonizing moment, time seemed to stretch, each heartbeat a thunderous echo in his ears. Seonghwa's world narrowed to the struggle against the rising tide of nausea, his entire being consumed by the desperate battle to keep it at bay.

Yeosang shrugged, returning to chewing on the ma as if he were a piece of steak. Seonghwa only grew more light-headed as he saw his bottom half was basically just bones with whatever flesh Yeosang didn't care to consume. He slightly turned to see the man's...... manhood thrown to the side, and Yeosang signed with his bloody hands, 'I'm saving that to shove into his mouth.'

"Okay, yeah," Seonghwa gagged. "This is too much. Too much for me...I can't-." With a soft breeze, Hongjoong's hand covered Seonghwa's eyes. He blocked the gruesome sight from Seonghwa's sight before stepping in front of him.

"Ye went from zero to a billion in mere moments, Bunny," Hongjoong slowly turned Seonghwa to face away. "How 'bout I let Woo take ye back to the Inn? Hmm? Get ye something to settle yer stomach as I take care of the rest of this for ye?"

Seonghwa's stomach churned with a tumult of emotions, each one vying for dominance as he felt the gentle caress of Hongjoong's hands tracing soothing patterns along his arms. It was as if Hongjoong's touch carried a reassuring warmth, a silent promise of comfort in the midst of uncertainty. With a subtle yet unmistakable nod, Seonghwa acknowledged the gesture, his heart pounding in his chest as he yielded to the desire to draw nearer to him, allowing their proximity to deepen in the shared intimacy of the moment.

Wait.

What was Seonghwa even doing?

He agreed to put aside his biases and try to befriend the pirate.

Not do...whatever this was.

"That sounds nice," Seonghwa took a step away from Hongjoong, pulling his arms away from his touch. "I don't think I can stomach this anymore... No offense to my cannibalistic friend...."

"Not a cannibal if I'm not human," Yeosang said, not looking up from his interesting taste of food.

"Right...."

"Aye," Hongjoong snapped his fingers and pointed at Wooyoung. "Mate, take Bunny back to the Inn and get 'em something to settle his stomach."

"Aye," Wooyoung was fast enough to stand up. He walked over to Seonghwa and took his hands. "Don' worry, mate. Ye get used to it after seeing the tenth rotting body. I mean, hey! I've been cutting men up since I was eight."

"Wait, what?"















--- 


I told y'all I was speed running this shit 

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