atinytokki

[atinytokki]

⚡️Ateez HP AU 1: Jeong Yunho and the Forbidden Flight

This was my first Ateez Harry Potter au! Newly edited, I thought it was a good time to post it here <3 I’m wanting to write additional parts but not sure exactly how to go about it.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think, and what you want to see from this kind of setting, who knows 👀

[atinytokki]

Orbit

Chapter 1: SS Aurora

07:21 Open Space Calibrated Time

They were stranded, stranded in the astral sea.

The spaceship’s auto navigational system spoke into the darkness with a request. “Would you like to set a course?”

“No.”

For now, they would remain adrift.

Untethered. Directionless.

A frail wisp of steam curled upwards from the cup Seonghwa was holding. A calming tea made of rare leaves from his home planet. One that should’ve relaxed him.

It should’ve been a day like any other in between jobs, floating along in their spaceship through the open space that connected distant planets just outside the Aten-Odae Asteroid Belt. A leisurely morning when the residents of SS Aurora took their time rising from their bunks and wandering to the central area.

But this time no one had gotten more than three hours of sleep, and instead of enjoying breakfast together, they were huddled around the table under the lowlight, waiting in an anxious silence.

Because today they were only seven, with their missing leader in the clutches of the Intergalactic Trade Guild, an empire with control over the farthest reaches of the galaxy that waged war on the surrounding systems.

He was gone and for three days now they had heard nothing.

“He’s dead,” Mingi whispered, terrified of his own words as he said them, while Yunho calibrated the holoscreen to tap into the Guild’s most popular news network. “They’ve killed him already, they’d be insane not to.”

“We don’t know that,” Wooyoung scolded, ever the optimist. “Even the Guild has to follow their own rules. He’ll be on trial.”

Seonghwa met his eyes with a wavering smile that quickly died out. He had no encouragement to give when his own breathing was laboured with the stress of the situation. He was a moment away from passing out if he forgot to breathe properly.

Inhale. Exhale.

Relax.

“But do you really think there’s any point in a court proceeding?” Yeosang questioned softly, picking at the food on his plate. “After what he did?”

He was referring, of course, to their Captain’s surrender. Hongjoong had insisted on being captured to allow the rest of the crew to escape the ambush three days ago with their loot and not even Yunho knew why. The credits they had been stealing at the time were not worth Hongjoong’s life.

And, loathe as Seonghwa was to admit it, Yeosang made a good point. They had more than enough evidence against him already, so why not put him to death and be done with it? It didn’t make sense for the Guild to make a judicial spectacle when the price on Hongjoong’s head had been astronomical.

Seonghwa should know, because that price had once been of great interest to him.

The sour taste of bile rose in his throat and he forced it down, focusing on the broadcast when San shushed the discussion and pointed everyone’s attention to it.

“A new case of great interest has taken over the intergalactic networks today due to the figure in custody,” the announcer was saying, his eyes practically devoid of life even as he spoke with an animated voice. “Notorious pirate Kim Hongjoong, whose full identity was revealed upon his arrest, has supposedly been a known public enemy to the Guild for fifteen years, about whom authorities have provided very little information from their investigation.”

A collective outburst of relief swept the room as it sunk in that Hongjoong was indeed alive. “See?” Wooyoung whispered encouragingly, squeezing Seonghwa’s hand from across the table.

Jongho, their mechanic, was shaking with rage. “Fifteen years— are they even hearing themselves?” He barked a mirthless laugh and scanned the room for approval. “That would mean he was branded a traitor when he was just a kid!”

Seonghwa trained his eyes on Yunho, technically their second in command, who had been quiet and singularly focused since setting up the holoscreen. “Did you know about this?” He asked him quietly, unable to keep a hint of betrayal out of his voice in his efforts to restrain the panic overwhelming him. That Hongjoong’s identity had apparently put him at risk since childhood was an unexpected blow on this morning of continuous punches to the gut.

“No,” Yunho responded solemnly, still not looking away from the screen. “But I can’t deny I had my suspicions.”

Seonghwa didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the broadcast tuned back in.

“The proceedings today will be significant in uncovering potential rebel activities, terrorist acts, and connections to other anti-Guild factions,” the second news presenter continued with growing interest even as she read her lines from the prompting screen behind the camera. She glanced at her partner for a moment before returning to her mark. “And we’ll have all the coverage for you right here when we come back from the break.”

Frozen to his seat, Seonghwa tried and failed to wrap his head around what was going on. The botched heist and Hongjoong’s capture three days ago had already sent him reeling, and now their captain was about to be tried in possibly the most biased courtroom in the universe for all the galaxies to see. How could this be real?

How could he have let this happen?

Suddenly needing to busy his hands while the nauseatingly bright advertisements began to play, Seonghwa stood to collect plates. None were empty, most barely picked at, but he couldn’t blame anyone for their lack of appetite when he wasn’t able stomach anything at the moment either.

Alone in the galley, he wasn’t sure now which was worse; waiting to discover Hongjoong’s fate, or watching it be handed to him live.

Light hovered over him while he scrubbed with limp and useless hands. A stain of food still stuck to one of the plates despite his efforts.

When the obnoxious sounds died down, he hurried back from the galley to see the Guild’s high courtroom on the holoscreen.

It was too soon, much too soon.

“What did I miss?” He nearly choked out.

San’s hands were in his hair, tugging at unruly strands while he explained, “They’re expediting the trial process. His entire case is happening today, now.”

Seonghwa forced himself into a chair to quell his shaking legs. It was all so fast, with no chance for anyone to scheme a way out of the situation.

How would Hongjoong even formulate a defence for himself?

“This whole thing is a sham,” Mingi gritted out, getting up to pace the room angrily. “Just a media circus. They won’t even give him a chance.”

“He’ll find a way…” said Yeosang around an audible gulp, glancing at Yunho for confirmation. “Right?”

The second in command and aristocrat-turned-thief merely shook his head and sighed, jaw locked immediately after. He had known Hongjoong the longest by some slim margin, but evidently it wasn’t enough to be privy to some sort of secret emergency measures for this kind of situation.

There had never been a need to appoint an official second in command, a provisional captain of sorts. Not outside of targeted missions.

Seonghwa folded his arms across his chest to mask the way he shuddered and watched on the screen as their captain was led into the courtroom, an amphitheatre-type space with harsh lighting. The judiciary council remained shrouded by their dark robes and headpieces, a stark contrast to the spotless room and the white-clothed prisoner.

The moment he saw him, his eyes blurred with tears.

It was easy to assume Hongjoong had been locked in a holding cell for three days from his dark, unruly hair or the dull pallor of his skin but what really stood out were his eyes. They found the camera immediately and stayed there for just a second too long to be comfortable, betraying nothing about the feelings inside.

Was he afraid?

Was he angry?

“No visible injuries… that’s a good sign…” Wooyoung was muttering his observations in an effort to convince himself of his own words. As the team’s trained medic, he naturally scrutinised their leader’s physical condition first.

“Injuries we can see, anyway,” San pointed out and, despite having the same thought already himself, Seonghwa felt that much more uneasy hearing it voiced aloud. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and kept his eyes fastened on the display.

Hongjoong was ushered into the seat of the accused and the opening remarks were in full swing without any more introduction. He seemed to be listening with a disdainful expression on his face until the head speaker addressed him directly.

“Kim Hongjoong, you stand before this council accused of piracy. How do you plead?”

Guards on either side of the defendant’s seat dragged him to his feet and it boiled Seonghwa’s blood to see his captain manhandled this way.

He shook them off in annoyance and stated his answer clearly for even the drone cameras to hear.

“Guilty.”

Seonghwa’s jaw dropped.

“No!” Yunho burst out, bringing a shaking hand to his mouth in shock. Surely they had all misheard. “Pleading guilty?”

“What else can he do?” Jongho cried with a helpless laugh that quickly became tears and trembling lips. “They’ve already decided his punishment. If they set this up to make a fool of him, he has no reason to play along.”

Wooyoung’s breath hitched in an attempt to protest, “But—”

“Yes, I took those credits,” Hongjoong was continuing to speak, and silence fell in the Aurora while he commanded the stage. “But they never belonged to the Guild in the first place. Those served by cause I donated my share to are the rightful owners. So which one of us is the real thief?”

One flickering moment of silence resounded before shouts broke out from an unseen audience on the broadcast and the holoscreen’s display quickly switched back to the newsroom where the first presenter smoothly formulated an excuse.

“Our apologies for the disruption, but it appears there have been technical difficulties—”

“Censorship,” Yunho muttered, collapsing back into his chair with a shaky sigh. “They’re afraid of what he might say.”

Though he had likely sealed his own fate, he would speak without being silenced. Glancing between Yunho and the screen, San shook his head and added, “If they think they can control him… well, then they’ve lost their minds.”

Individual access to public channels via holoscreen had been a luxury in Seonghwa’s childhood, but even having become acquainted with the intergalactic network in recent years, he had never seen anything quite like this.

There was no question what the Guild was trying to do.

This was a performance. A taunt. A message— to Hongjoong’s friends and supporters, yes, but also to anyone who might even consider questioning the total authority of their government. It was a promise they would be silenced in turn.

It was a threat.

And Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel the guilt coursing through him, because he knew deep down, no matter what the others said, that this was his fault.

___

3 days ago

“Seonghwa, can I talk to you for a second?”

Hearing the captain’s voice behind him, the former bounty hunter glanced up from his weapons store. “Alright,” he agreed, joining Hongjoong in the hall and signalling the armoury door to slide shut behind him. “Something I can help with?”

Hongjoong opened his mouth to respond and suddenly thought better of it, dropping his head and allowing himself another moment to think.

Seonghwa could sense an unusual level of anxiety about the upcoming job and made an attempt to relieve it. “If this is about the plan—”

“It’s not the plan,” Hongjoong cut him off tiredly and finally looked up so Seonghwa could meet his eyes. They were as warm and trusting as ever, but with that calculating shine that hinted at a sharper edge inside. “How sure are you that Yang’s word is good?”

The source of the tip that had led to this job, the crime boss known only as Yang, had multiple systems under his control and the Intergalactic Trade Guild themselves struggling to operate on Venop 4, the planet he and Seonghwa himself hailed from.

He had sent route information about a Guild cargo ship, including the name of the planet where it would be refuelling, and proposed a generous split of the payload it would be carrying should the Aurora crew succeed in robbing it; 5 million credits.

Seonghwa hadn’t intended to have any business with the notorious gangster, but a life of poverty growing up on that world left few options. As a bounty hunter, he had taken what commissions he was given and without complaint. The strength of a client’s word was rarely part of his considerations.

And so Hongjoong’s doubts, while not entirely out of place, weren’t particularly relevant.

“Does it matter?”

“He wants me dead, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong reminded him, quietly but intensely. “Enough to make multiple attempts. I mean, do you really trust him?”

“Not completely,” Seonghwa admitted, because he knew the fact was hard to ignore. He had personally been extremely fortunate that Hongjoong had overlooked this earlier. “But Yang loves money more than anything else and he knows we’re the best crew to get it for him. I don’t think he’d pass up his share of the payload just for the chance to take us out.”

Hongjoong crossed his arms and glanced out the nearest hall window, withdrawn. There was just open space all around, a dark void for them to hide in, dotted with distant star systems. He was still thinking of an excuse. “It might mean more credits for him in the long run if he does, you know.”

This was more nervous behaviour than usual from Hongjoong. If he let his guard down around anyone, it was usually Seonghwa, but after the communal planning stage, the captain typically kept any further worries to himself.

“I realise that,” Seonghwa replied with a lighthearted shrug. “I’m just hoping he hasn’t.”

There was no more time to debate the future, and Yunho was already poking his head around the corner to interrupt them, “Hyungs? Time to space jump.”

“Alright.” With a final cursory glance at Seonghwa, Hongjoong moved past him and headed towards the cockpit. “Fire up the Infinity Drive.”

Cracking a smile, Seonghwa eagerly followed after a brief stop in the armoury to collect the weapons they’d need. He took the arming of his fellow pirates very seriously.

His position on this particular job was to remain onboard the Aurora keeping watch for enemies, providing a quick getaway, and managing communications between the members and, more distantly, with Yang. This was not a task to be taken lightly, and although Seonghwa’s skills usually lay on the battlefield, his personal relationship with the gangster was of greater value today.

“How did the crossbow work for you in practice?” He asked a stoic Yeosang in the seat next to him as the pair strapped in for the space jump.

“It’s excellent,” the mercenary responded, patting the compact weapon where it hung from his belt. “But is there a way to remove the stun feature? It makes that buzzing sound and I’d like it to be quieter.”

“Yes, there’s a switch to activate silent mode,” Seonghwa described and gestured with his hands. “You’ll just have to make sure your aim is perfect because a near-hit won’t take anyone down with the energy field turned off.”

“Not a problem,” Yeosang chuckled. He hadn’t missed a shot any time in recent memory, and both of them knew it. Life as a soldier for hire on a dying planet required a great deal of precision.

“Hyung,” Mingi suddenly gasped, turning around in his seat to face Seonghwa, clearly having just remembered something. “If you use the drones for intelligence, don’t forget to turn on the stealth feature! We do not want a repeat of QD81.”

From the way Yeosang shuddered next to him, Seonghwa could tell bad things had taken place at the aforementioned incident, but it must have been a time from their history together before he knew either of them.

Mingi and Yeosang both hailed from Diistro, a world so badly scorched by its expanding sun that the atmosphere was nearly sucked away by now, the planet itself turned oblong and misshapen from the pull of gravity. They had been born in different countries, but the arbitrary lines of territory became irrelevant in the worsening climate, leaving a wild and lawless place. The pair were not the simple refugees they appeared to be in the years that followed. They did what they must to survive.

“Right, I’ll take care of it,” Seonghwa assured Mingi, patting him on the shoulder and urging him to buckle up properly. The space jump was always a jolting experience.

“Engaging Infinity Drive,” Yunho called out after the final seatbelt clicked, and everyone braced for the coming plunge through bended space-time. “Prepare for a Level 10.”

Hit with all the G-force of hurtling past systems at indescribable speeds, Seonghwa gritted his teeth until the Aurora slowed to a normal pace on arrival and his tension melted away. The entire process lasted only a few seconds.

Travelling so unnaturally fast put a great deal of pressure on the body, making the highest setting—Level 10– only for emergencies. Going a fair bit slower was much more sustainable for the Infinity Drive as well, but today it couldn’t be helped.

“Approaching Eogawa,” Hongjoong announced as he again took manual control of the spacecraft, banking slightly to the left to bring the planet in view. “Prepare for atmospheric entry.”

Being a gas giant, Eogawa was essentially nothing but atmosphere.

Tinted a soft pink hue in the light of its distant sun, the planet’s peaceful appearance was riddled with hidden dangers. Aside from the storms that raged among surface gases, Eogawa was ringed with massive, thick bands of dust and ice. A lesser pilot might run afoul of such a hazardous minefield, but Hongjoong was careful to avoid the rings and zeroed in on the area Aurora’s radar was pointing him to.

“The refuelling station,” San called out, spotting it first through wispy clouds that flew past once they entered the atmosphere and splattered rain droplets on the windows. “It’s huge.”

Seonghwa shared his astonishment when he leaned forward to catch sight of the station and noticed its size. Not merely a lone rig floating in the sky. Much bigger than expected.

Taking in the sight, Hongjoong directed the ship downwards to the lower platform that appeared to be a service entrance. “First team ready?”

Jongho, Yeosang, and San rose from their seats and filed out, weapons in tow, to their starting position for the heist. Their next task would be to steal themselves some uniforms from the locker room to disguise as robot workers.

Yunho rose to follow them out, assigned to lead their team, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a nod to the right where their next objective lay. He would turn the Aurora eastward in search of a different station.

“When is the train coming next?” Hongjoong asked, sounding somewhat distracted while he scanned the layers upon layers of swirling clouds.

Yunho merely had to check the time to provide an answer. “Thirty seven minutes.”

Thanks to his extensive research, the pirates knew Eogawa’s fuel transportation system was fully automated and operated a levitating train which passed through the station every hour. For a ship as big as the Guild freighter they were after, it would take at least thirty minutes to refuel, likely having maintenance performed by the robotic service workers in the meantime.

This system provided both a way in and a way out with the credits.

“We’ll be on it and ready for transport,” the captain encouraged. “Be careful, the Guild ship should be docking any minute.”

“Understood,” Yunho replied with a smile, and he turned to disembark, sharing a glance with Seonghwa who patted him on the back with a measure of nervous excitement.

It was always a bit nerve wracking splitting up to do their various jobs during a heist or a boarding. Seonghwa knew the risk they were taking every time someone was sent off into hostile territory. If a member was caught, it was expected that they disavow any knowledge of the rest of the group and claim to be acting independently.

They may be pirates, but they all served a higher cause. Something a bit more substantial than mere interference in Guild activities.

“Comms operational?” Jongho’s voice crackled through the radio as soon as the Aurora had set off for the levitating train station.

“Loud and clear,” Hongjoong answered to the mechanic’s satisfaction, and soon the train station came into view. It wasn’t intended for humans, so aside from the cleaning droid bustling around, the platform was empty.

Hongjoong, Mingi, and Wooyoung would board the train to clear out a container and pick up the credits and their disguised members, much more discreet there than in the Aurora.

As he handed control of the ship over to Seonghwa, he gave the dashboard a loving pat. “Take care of things while I’m gone,” he instructed, a redundant request for the meticulous bounty hunter.

“She’s safe in my hands,” Seonghwa assured him anyway, saying his farewells and watching the door slide shut behind them.

Suddenly it was very quiet onboard, and put off by the silence, Seonghwa powered up the engines again and directed the Aurora to the waiting point, behind both stations in the direction the train was sure to come when the heist was finished.

Staying with the getaway vehicle made for a bit of a boring job, so for the next half hour there was nothing much to do but fiddle with his weapons and watch the sun set from gold into soft violet.

He listened in on the comms chatter as the teams informed each other of their progress; Yunho’s team securing disguises and Hongjoong’s team successfully entering a train compartment.

And then, fifteen minutes before the train would arrive, the moment he was least looking forward to arrived in the form of a call from Yang.

Schooling his expression into something vaguely neutral and unbothered, he accepted it and watched the hologram materialise on the dashboard.

The crime lord was evidently seated in his sunroom, snacking on a homemade flatbread that made Seonghwa’s stomach grumble just by looking at it. As glad as he was to be offworld, he had missed the tastes of home.

“Mr. Park, do you have a status update for me?” Yang asked him with a monotone voice, brushing crumbs from his shirt in boredom.

“Everything is proceeding on schedule,” Seonghwa answered, slightly reserved, knowing Hongjoong would prefer he keep the details private. “I’ll let you know when we have a count of the credits and—”

“We found the credits,” San’s voice interrupted through the comms, unaware of Seonghwa’s ongoing conversation. “Five million, it’s all here. We’ve been unloading one case at a time, there’s just two left.”

“Ah,” Yang chuckled, overhearing him. “How efficient, just as expected.”

Seonghwa resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the crime lord’s empty flattery. “Before I go, I thought I’d ask,” he regained control of the conversation while subtly muting the comm radio in the middle of Hongjoong’s response to San. “Where do you suggest we rendezvous?”

Yang glanced to the side, probably out his highland window at the marshes below. It was the time of year when Venop 4 enjoyed a brief reprieve from the rainy season and Seonghwa could practically smell it through the holoscreen.

“Surely it isn’t too much trouble for you to bring the money here?” The crime lord posed the question innocently, but his hard gaze was a clear indication of his thoughts on the matter.

“If I recall correctly, we agreed on a rendezvous, not a delivery,” Seonghwa answered him politely but with enough insistence of his own to carry the point across. “Perhaps with one of your currently deployed ships?”

Yang stared back for a moment, but his little blue hologram didn’t intimidate Seonghwa in the slightest. The boss had much less power in this form than he had last time Seonghwa had seen him, at his compound. Even if he was standing there now, there was something about the freedom of becoming a pirate that made him feel indestructible, like everyone else would simply bounce off his invisible shield.

“Halfway then,” Yang relented, flashing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “My ship Nexus is in the orbit of Sarkei. You can dock there and split the payload.”

“I’ll inform you when we’ve left Eogawa,” Seonghwa promised, satisfied with the answer, and moved to end the call. “Until then—”

“And Seonghwa?” Yang interrupted him, and it gave him pause to hear his given name spoken so easily by the criminal overlord. While it didn’t come as a surprise, it put him on edge knowing Yang had much more information than he was comfortable with. He chuckled like he knew something Seonghwa didn’t, “I look forward to working with you again.”

The bounty hunter didn’t plan to. He could get his intelligence on Guild operations elsewhere.

He was lost in thought for a while after ending the call with no further response, until something in the distance caught his eye. It was the levitating train, moving toward the Aurora quickly. A hatch was open in the top of one of the compartments, and Mingi halfway out of it, yelling something into the wind that Seonghwa couldn’t hear.

Jolting upright, he positioned the ship above the train and lowered the ramp from the undercarriage. He had completely forgotten to unmute the comms.

“Load up and go back!” Mingi was saying, bringing a couple of cases of money with him as he climbed up into the suspended Aurora and ran to the cockpit. “We have to go back, hyung!”

“Why?” Seonghwa watched with growing dread as the others quickly began loading the ship. “What’s going on?”

Yunho dropped a case in the cargo area and joined him at the controls while Mingi ran back to fetch another. He was visibly angry, face red and breath heavy, though at what Seonghwa couldn’t be sure until he opened his mouth.

“He stayed— the idiot!— he got out of the compartment and went back into the refuelling station just as the train took off,” Yunho panted with the effort of the words, clearly in disbelief himself.

“Who?” Seonghwa breathed the question out, strangled by it. 

Yunho finally looked him in the eyes.

“Hongjoong.”

Cursing softly, Seonghwa set the Aurora to autopilot, precariously hovering above the moving train, and joined the others in moving the last few cases to their cargo hold.

The next train station was on the horizon when Seonghwa reached down for another case to pass along and was met with San emerging from inside the compartment instead. His instructions were curt, “We’re loaded, turn around.”

Seonghwa helped him into the ship and retracted the ramp, hurrying to the cockpit before being stopped by Yeosang. “Wait!” The mercenary insisted on it and wrapped a hand around Seonghwa’s arm. “The drone. Send in the drone first.”

He was right to be cautious, Seonghwa came to realise when he piloted the drone into the refuelling station from the safety of the cockpit a few minutes later. Guild officials had emerged from the freighter they just robbed and someone was watching them from the secrecy of a connecting hall.

Seonghwa could tell who it was the moment he saw the back of his head.

Lips pursed with worry, he navigated the drone closer. “Let me turn on comms and ask what he’s doing—”

“He already switched off his channel,” Wooyoung broke in before Seonghwa wasted time trying.

“But you can try to patch through to the drone,” Mingi reminded them both, reaching over to turn off the stealth feature he had insisted upon earlier. “There, now the speakers.”

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa called immediately when it was clear the audio was stable. “Hongjoong, answer me.”

The captain turning his head toward the screen was confirmation he had heard him. “You all need to get out of here,” he said under his breath, returning his gaze to the platform. Clearly he knew something they didn’t. “This is an ambush, Yang must have tipped them off.”

Seonghwa’s stomach dropped.

He should’ve known. Yang would never let such a good chance pass him by, even if he had to work with the Guild for compensation. Even if it meant fewer credits. All his teasing had been meant to distract, and it had succeeded easily.

Hongjoong was hurriedly giving out last minute instructions, “Cut off contact and don’t bring him anything, just get the money to Aten-Odae. The Manager will know what to do. I’m counting on you.”

“Why can’t you come with us?” San protested, unable to keep his voice quiet in his distress. “What are you doing in the station? We could be picking you up right now. There’s still time!”

Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered shut with a sigh. “Check your radar,” he murmured, regret in his voice. “There are ten Guild dreadnoughts with hwacha missiles trained on the Aurora right now. We are out of time. You need to leave while I call them off.”

And when Yeosang pulled up the screen, Seonghwa had to catch his breath. Hongjoong was right. Exactly ten of the Guild’s most heavily weaponised spacecraft were advancing on their position silently and undetected until now. It was horrifying.

Wooyoung’s voice stuck in his throat wetly as he fought back tears, begging him, “Please don’t do this, hyung, we can figure out another way, there has to be something—”

“There isn’t another way, Woo.” From the way Hongjoong spoke, it sounded like it was breaking his heart, too. “I wish there was but… I know I have to do this. Don’t come back here, understand? I won’t let them take you.”

And Seonghwa knew he was right, even as he sat frozen in shock and let Jongho and Mingi argue with the increasingly unresponsive captain while he advanced through the hallway toward the Guild officers.

They’d been tricked and there was nothing else but to retreat.

Seonghwa didn’t realise there were tears streaming down his cheeks until he had already said in a haze, “Don’t go. Don’t.”

It was selfish and he should follow orders and be strong for the others but he couldn’t do it. If Hongjoong stayed behind, there was no way out for him. “I won’t forgive you,” he sobbed.

Hongjoong couldn’t see him but he knew.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’ll be alright,” he comforted softly, taking slow steps backwards away from the drone until a doorway separated them.

His hand hovered over the sensor. “I’m sorry.”

And then he hit the switch and the door slid shut, cutting him off from view.

The feed was blank without a subject in view and Yunho took the controls and directed the drone back out of the station, bringing it aboard the Aurora then suddenly tossing it to the floor in a burst of anger and dropping into his seat wordlessly.

For a moment it was still and silent, and then Wooyoung began to sniffle. Seonghwa reached out to comfort him, but it felt like he was underwater.

The world was moving in slow motion and he was drowning in his own despair. A distant beeping surfaced and he noticed the display, bright red with warning symbols and a repeating alert message.

Enemy ships approaching.

Spurred into action, he sent the Aurora upwards, up through waning sunbeams to the higher layer of clouds and then the next layer and then the next.

“You can’t be serious,” Mingi laughed emptily, glancing in disbelief between Seonghwa and the rest of the team. “We’re leaving him?”

Yeosang’s head was in his hands. “They’ve locked targets on us. There’s no choice.”

“Why didn’t he just call it off before we loaded the ship?” San was bargaining with hypotheticals. “We could’ve used that time. We all could’ve escaped together.”

And of course there was no point now in wondering. They might never know.

Rosy pink rays faded to dusk and seven pirates strapped into their seats and shot up past the highest layer of clouds only to be immediately faced with the enemy dreadnoughts.

Silent and hulking, they simply watched the Aurora fly past them, making no move to shoot the smaller ship down.

Wooyoung dried his eyes and craned his neck to look up at the menacing dreadnoughts through the front window. “They’re just… letting us go.”

“Hongjoong hyung. He turned himself in,” Jongho said mournfully and then braced himself for the space jump as soon as they were clear.

Seonghwa’s tears soaked into his collar. 

The stars raced by like a stain on the black canvas and they left their captain behind.

___

18:47 Open Space Calibrated Time

Seonghwa’s light dozing was interrupted by the holoscreen broadcast. After a back and forth of testimonies and cross-examinations by the most incompetent legal representatives the Guild had to offer, a verdict had been reached.

San and Yeosang were called back in to the living area to watch from their various restless activities around the ship.

The head speaker removed her headdress and spoke, unveiled at last, to the accused.

“The council has deliberated at great length to determine an appropriate finding and will vote next on a punishment suitable for the nature of these crimes.” Her beady eyes looked up from the floating wall of text behind the camera she was no doubt reading from and in the direction of the seat of the accused, remorseless. “However, regarding today’s business, it is the decision of this council that on all counts of piracy, assault, corruption, illegal possession of firearms, possession of stolen property, fraudulent or unauthorised access to Intergalactic Trade Guild networks, conspiracy, theft of an Intergalactic Trade Guild spacecraft, and false personation, Kim Hongjoong is found guilty and sentenced to death.”

It was like his throat closed and then was forcefully reopened again as Seonghwa vomited and then blacked out. When he came to, San was rubbing his back. Every eye on him was ringed with red.

He had been expecting it, but the verdict stung like acid in his face.

The broadcast was off now and he hadn’t even been able to see Hongjoong’s face again.

Was he afraid now?

Mingi looked around and finally asked, voice hollow, “What do we do?”

“The Manager told us to split up and lay low,” Yunho scoffed. He was scary like this, stern and sarcastic and so far away from himself.

Hongjoong was their glue. Without him there to hold them together, surely they’d drift off, each going his own way with a heart full of regret and a useless supply of credits in his pocket.

But they hadn’t done so. No one had wandered off yet, ejecting themselves from the Aurora and wishing the rest good luck and goodbye. Even now they huddled together, waiting for something. A sign.

Seonghwa trembled in the cold of realisation washing over him. There was nowhere else to turn. The floor underneath him began to feel firm and he grounded himself in it. He clutched the blanket around his shoulders closer.

More than ever before he pined for Hongjoong’s help, for his guidance.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Seonghwa finally said, shaking his head with some sort of resolution.

He raised his head to see all the others looking at him.

They knew what needed to be done, but no one was ready to speak the words aloud. No one except Seonghwa.

“We break him out. We have to do it ourselves.”

He watched them realise, one by one, that it was up to them now. That they could not go on as a team without their captain. He had brought them together only to abandon them, but he would not be allowed to give his life for theirs so easily.

Jongho nodded and got to his feet, ready to contribute however he could. “All we can hope for now is that his execution is scheduled far in advance.”

Seonghwa did not care what it took. They had to get to Hongjoong first, even if they burned up on entry.

They could not escape the pull of his gravity.

___

A/N: Welcome to my submission for 8 Makes 1 Family Fest Round 2, 2024 version (shh it's not technically revealed yet there so don't tell lol), based on a lovely prompt that grabbed me immediately and is responsible for probably a good chunk of this story's appeal! It will be multi-chaptered and I'll do my best to portray the slice-of-life (the theme of this round) and not go too heavy on the plot but uhh no promises lol. Also if you happen to be a fan of Andor, the randomly insanely good Disney+ Star Wars show (if not, watch it) I think you will also like this! I took some inspiration from it so, while I did make this AU myself, there are things in common.

Thanks for reading and let me know what you thought!! <3

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#tokki writes #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez fic #ateez angst #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez yunho #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #sci fi au #space pirates #space pirate au #heist #prison break #platonic ateez #orbit

[atinytokki]

Orbit

Summary

Notorious space pirate Kim Hongjoong has turned himself over to the authorities in return for clemency for his crew. His execution is set to be an intergalactic spectacle telecast live across the galaxies. ATEEZ are left adrift, but they aren't giving up. This will be their greatest heist yet: stealing their captain back. 

Originally written for the 8 Makes 1 Family Fest and cross-posted to ao3 and wattpad. First chapter here!

Comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters :)

#ateez fanficiton #ateez #ateez au #tokki writes #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez angst #sci fi #space opera #space pirates au #space pirates #heist #prison break #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #kpop fanfic #kpop au #orbit

[atinytokki]

That heist/prison break story set in a space opera I mentioned before? I'm posting the first chapter tomorrow! Let me know if you want in on the taglist 😉

#tokki.txt #tokki writes

[atinytokki]

Do you write romance too??

Also what about prose, lyrics, short stories

None of the fics I have posted here contain romance aside from references to side characters, but my original novel im working on does contain some romance.

Haven’t done much in terms of short stories but I did write a song and the lyrics for it in Dreamer chapter 2 which is posted here haha

I’m not opposed to trying more things but what I’m working on at the moment comes first~

#tokki.txt #tokki answers

[atinytokki]

Do you make a kinda schedule for your writing

I do indeed :) it’s more of a schedule in terms of the order to write things in the cycle, but I do try to get them done in a certain timeframe

#tokki answers #tokki.txt

[atinytokki]

What genre are your stories?

I write a bit of a variety but my signature genres are fantasy, science fiction, and action/adventure drama. I love worldbuilding and putting characters in other worlds!

Work by work, my Treasure series is a pirate fantasy epic, Horizon series is a dystopian science fiction set in space, Illusion Post is a collaborative traditional urban fantasy with folkloric and ghibli-esque magic elements, and Mechanosis is a historical Joseon steampunk universe.

Among planned works are a Viking AU, an Avatar the Last Air Bender AU, a Tron AU, a soft traditional fantasy AU, and my new fest fic (coming next month) will be a heist/prison break story set in a space opera!

#tokki answers #tokki writes #tokki.txt

[atinytokki]

What about your Horizon story, illusion post mechanosis (sorry, of its written wrong)? Are they part of your main story which is unfinished? Or can I already start reading those?

Yes each of those is a different story! You can read any of them at any time, and they all take place in different universes with different characters, no connection to Treasure series. In my pinned masterlist they should all be separated from each other by bold black lines!

They are also unfinished as of right now, but they are all incorporated into my update schedule. For example, I’ll update some works in Treasure and then I’ll add a chapter to Horizon, then a chapter to something else and so on. Illusion Post is a collaborative work with another author so I can’t promise new chapters on that until both of us have finished our bit but hopefully we’ll be able to finish it!

#tokki answers

[atinytokki]

NOOOO HONGJOONG!! DON'T HIRE SEUNGHYUN!! DON'T HIRE HIS ARROGANT GROUP OF FRIENDS!! DON'T BRUSH ASIDE THEIR GROUP'S ODD TENDENCY TO BE SEPARATED FROM THE REST OF THE CREW!! DON'T GO ON THE GHOST SHIP! HONGJOOOONG!!

😂 hindsight is 20/20 isn’t it

#tokki answers #treasure series

[atinytokki]

hii i was thinking about your treasure series a lot recently and by chance i happened to remember what it was called (well, the treasure series) and your ao3 name and ahh i'm so happy!! your writing blew me away again even after a years of reading a lot - when i read more and more as time passes usually things i read previously and regarded to be great don't hold up well because my taste in prose characterization plot etc. changes but yours surprisingly is still enjoyable!! aghhh the ending of one to all still hits like a brick i actually shed tears this time.... also the time taken and the word count for each volume is so funny to me. i downloaded the fics to read on the way to work and the first volume is 84 pages, 3 month, 2nd volume 142 pages, also 3 months, 3rd volume 168 pages, 9 months, and 4th one a whopping 240 pages, 3 whole years lmao but but i love the huge word count cause this series is a delight

Oh man you guys have me blushing again 🥹 !!!!!

I’m so happy you were able to find and rediscover Treasure! I honestly have a similar mindset when it comes to reading stuff that hasn’t held up haha and to me, the earlier volumes and chapters can use some additional tweaking, proofreading, and minor edits but I am glad in hindsight that I left enough room to expand the universe later on without too much retconning :,) Once I (finally) finish the entire series I’ll definitely be going back in to clean it up and make the whole thing a nice lil (big) pirate epic saga 🫶

AND THE PAGE COUNT oh my word I wish I could say I was embarrassed but I just posted a 17k spinoff chapter— and that’s after I split it in half because it was getting too long. I’m so happy you find it delightful and I really hope the 5ish years of writing this series will pay off with a satisfying conclusion and that it won’t continue to take me exponentially longer to finish this thing!!

Thanks as always for being a returning reader and for your kind message anon I’m sooo spoiled and I love hearing how I made you cry hehe <3

#tokki answers #tokki.txt #treasure series

[atinytokki]

Hi! I'm new to your work and so surprised by your many story (arcs) and chapters. Where do I start/how do I continue with spin-offs?

Hellooo ^^ thanks so much for your interest!

I’ve been asked this question a lot and I’m sorry I can’t give a more simple answer yet :,) As you can probably tell, my Treasure series is as of yet unfinished and has been an ongoing project for about 5 years! So as soon as it’s completed, it will be a lot easier to explain, but for now here’s my recommendation:

Most readers try to get through the main series (All to Zero, Zero to One, etc) first. There’s currently only one unfinished volume left while the spin-offs have a lot more to be added. The main series follows all of the members on their adventures, meanwhile the spin-offs provide background information on people and events that come up later in the main volumes, focusing on each individual member. The spin-offs do add important worldbuilding and character development so I’d definitely recommend reading them next.

On my masterlist, they’re organised by member in fanchant/age order, but it’s actually best to read them in a different order that is generally chronological (not considering timeskips and alternate perspective re-tellings, which some of them have) and that order is as follows:

My Way -> The Windy Road -> Across the Night -> Dreamer -> Distant Daylight -> Paradise -> Walking in the Darkness -> Blinded by Desire

As of right now, there’s no wrong way to read them, so thanks for asking and enjoy~ <3

#tokki.txt #tokki answers #tokki writes

[atinytokki]

My Way

viii. The Voyage

The first night in his new bunk was everything Hongjoong imagined it would be.

It could’ve been dirty, crowded, and doused in pungent scent and he wouldn’t have minded. Despite bustling crewmen and the pitch of the Stardust, he was consumed by an overwhelming sense of peace in the chaos. It was his own little corner of heaven.

He’d been hard at work helping the other crewmen to raise anchor and position the sails, and after a hearty supper full of introductions and recounted tales, he had found his way to the berth, guided by candlelight, and climbed into his hammock.

It was his hammock in a way that his four poster bed back in Jangwon Hall wasn’t his. He didn’t just exist in it, it meant something to him. Whether a different sailor took up that hammock a few months hence didn’t matter in the slightest, it was his for the moment and he was going to enjoy it.

For now that simply meant laying back and tracing the ceiling boards with his gaze, listening to the faint echo of the ship’s groaning as it cut through water, and resisting the pull of sleep that threatened to drag him away.

Hongjoong watched the men around him prepare for the night, some reading, some smoking, a couple conversing quietly, and still more shedding their boots and climbing into bed. The deckhand in the hammock closest rolled onto his side and motioned towards the candlestick.

“Best put that light out now, lad,” he instructed, no-nonsense but not unkind. “Or else pass it off to the night shift.”

Satisfied that he wouldn’t miss anything important in the darkness, Hongjoong leaned forward and blew it out, settling in with a blanket. Somewhere, a deckhand was already snoring.

“Goodnight,” Hongjoong whispered, imagining it to be Mingi.

He rolled over and closed his eyes.

The shrill blast of the boatswain’s whistle at the forenoon watch came as quite a shock after such a pleasant night.

Rushing out of bed and into his clothes, Hongjoong joined the others in his shift under the supervision of the Stardust’s boatswain, Minseob.

Commands and manual labour were no stranger to the boy from Jangwon Hall, but he didn’t mind being ordered around here, a place of freedom where he was more than a cog in the machine, where the riches flowed as soon as they were plundered. This was what he had been preparing for.

It was one thing to learn the ropes, it was another entirely to do the work— training the body in life at sea.

Working alongside him were a variety of older men. Some looked the part of a pirate; burly, tattooed and reeking of liquor, but most appeared to be regular sailors.

Even Minseob retained the bearings of a naval officer and, aside from his eclectic accessorising, stuck to his ways where order was concerned.

The break for lunch was sufficient to rest Hongjoong well enough for another shift if he was needed but Maddox found him belowdecks and informed him he had been summoned.

“To the wardroom. Come on now,” he chuckled when Hongjoong hesitated in surprise. “You’re meant to be cabin boy after all.”

The officers were eating together, though some had already finished and were playing a board game of some type with the extra time.

Sailing Master Jihan had spread out some charts on his corner of the table and was engaged in a conversation with Eden that paused upon Hongjoong’s entrance.

The captain looked up from his work at his protégé and pulled out a chair next to him, welcoming the boy to sit.

Obliging, Hongjoong was soon lit up with excitement as a variety of firearms were placed in front of him to chose from by Jonghoon, Master-At-Arms.

“But I’ve already got mine— well, your old one,” Hongjoong reminded Eden shyly.

“A pirate should have a minimum of two loaded pistols on or within reach of his person at all times,” the pirate responded vehemently. “You don’t want to be caught reloading in a close quarters fight.”

It made sense considering how long it could take to reload a gun in his experience.

“Do you think there will be a fight on this journey?” Hongjoong asked, careful not to sound too worried if it was the case. He could handle it, he was sure.

Eden glanced at Jihan again, who spread his hands, admitting uncertainty. “Perhaps,” the captain settled on. “Navy presence near the archipelago has increased lately, and we are headed south first after all.”

Hongjoong nodded and turned back to the selection in front of him. A shiny pistol was calling his name, so he picked it up and inspected it as he had been taught, ensuring all the parts were clean and well functioning. If the other officers had qualms about this strange boy handling their spare weapons so casually, they did not raise them. It seemed the men trusted their captain.

“Combat training isn’t over, though I’ll be busy day in and day out,” Eden went on, after approving Hongjoong’s choice of weapon. “Go with Babylon to help in the galley for now, and I’ll meet you tonight on the quarterdeck to practice.”

Hongjoong followed orders promptly, stowing the gun before collecting any remaining dishes from the crew and bringing them to the galley to wash.

The action was familiar to him, as he’d laboured in the kitchens of Jangwon more than a few times, but the galley window swung open and let in a sea air that made the entire experience a good deal more pleasant than being in that stuffy hall.

The cook himself sidled up to help dry the cleaned bowls and cutlery, looming with his tall stature and keeping a curious eye on their newest recruit.

“I understand you begged to come aboard with us,” Babylon reported. “Did you realise you asked for the worst job on the ship?”

Hongjoong snorted and passed the man a plate. That wasn’t a problem. “I’ll climb the ranks.”

“Oh, are you quite sure?” Babylon let out a chuckle. “You’ll need a ship of your own to go from cabin boy to captain.”

“Then I can build one,” Hongjoong answered, just as sure. He flicked some soap bubbles into the air mindlessly.

“Does Eden teach you that sort of thing?” The surgeon questioned him, watching the bubbles float away. Two of them popped against the wall but one made it out the window.

“Ship anatomy, cartography, astronomy, strategy, knot-tying, self-defense— all kinds of things,” Hongjoong listed, barely brushing the surface.

“Then I do believe you have the makings of a well-rounded pirate,” Babylon complimented indulgently, offering the boy a towel to wipe his hands when the washing was done. “Although you are missing a few things.”

“Like what?” Hongjoong crossed his arms and gave the man a challenging glare.

A twinkle grew in Babylon’s eye. “Have you ever shot a cannon?”

That was how Hongjoong found himself under the tutelage of Master Gunner Soomin for the rest of the day, bearing witness to a demonstration in the power of the Stardust’s cannons.

It was exhilarating and made for his most exciting lesson by far, but his ears were ringing through supper and when he arrived on the quarterdeck for scheduled practice with Eden, he was still fairly disoriented.

Thanks as well to the darkness of the moonless night and the chill wind that was blowing from the north, Hongjoong took more beatings than he handed out during their sparring session, frustrating himself immensely.

“You must become impervious to your environment, Hongjoong,” Eden scolded lightly, scraping him with the sword when he failed to dodge yet again and widening the hole in his blouse. “There are no city lights to help you here at sea. If your night vision is truly this abysmal, you’ll struggle to see an enemy sneak up on you.”

Gritting his teeth, Hongjoong parried the next blow and returned with one of his own, overreaching and struggling to maintain his balance. With a sigh, Eden merely nudged him with his sword hilt and sent him tumbling back over the rail to hit the main deck hard on his tailbone.

Groaning, Hongjoong picked himself up gingerly, observing the way the sailor on watch duty snorted and shook his head in amusement.

“I’m just not at my best today,” he muttered by way of an excuse, holding his head in his hands. It must be the pressure of so many people to impress.

“Then you had better find your best and never lose it again,” Eden’s voice answered, and Hongjoong glanced up to see him descending from the quarterdeck, sword sheathed.

“It’s about consistency,” he went on. “You’ve beaten me before and if you give your all, you can do so again. But the day your form isn’t at its best could be the day the Navy knocks on your door. And then you’d better hope they give you a chance.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, riled up. “Give me his watch,” he demanded, pointing towards the clueless sailor on duty without a glance in his direction.

For his part, Eden looked pleasantly surprised. “What for?”

“I’ll show you I can handle it. Let me take the night shift.”

The pirate tilted his head in thought for a moment before agreeing and dismissing the now gleeful sailor to his berth.

“It’s four hours,” he reminded his apprentice, careful not to let his concern show but giving himself away with his hesitation.

“I know,” Hongjoong countered confidently. “I learned all the protocol. I can even take the wheel so we don’t spend the night anchored.”

“Very well,” Eden turned to head back to his cabin. “I’ll check on you halfway through.”

Hongjoong cracked a knowing smile. If the objective was weathering the elements, that was just what he would do. It was all a mental game anyway, he reasoned, he could stand the discomfort to prove a point.

He deserved to be here and he would earn his place every day if he had to.

The air was clear and the waves quiet in their lapping at the hull, reminding him very much of his family fishing days what felt like long ago now, back when he had been naïve to the dangers of the sea.

He watched the distant cliffs pass by and calculated in his head how far from Panhang they must have sailed by now. Surely his plan to navigate overnight would save them a great deal of time.

Every once in awhile the wind increased from behind, filling the sails until they became taut against their ropes and ruffling Hongjoong’s clothes. He felt the holes poked in his shirt more and more as the temperature dropped.

It was still winter on the northern coast after all, and that ushering wind was likely an arctic one.

Shivering and growing numb but determined not to give in, Hongjoong flexed his hands where they gripped the wheel and forced himself to focus. All he had to do was maintain their course, and if his legs gave out, so be it.

The sound of the door to the captain’s cabin creaking open distracted him for a moment, and the protégé turned to see his master approaching from inside with a blanket, slinging it wordlessly over his shoulders.

Hongjoong gladly accepted it but flashed the pirate a suspicious glance at his timing.

“Hyung, were you watching from inside this whole time?”

“W-What?” Eden coughed out, truly at a loss for words yet again due to this boy and his dropping of formalities. “Of course not, I merely noticed the chill. It looks as if it may snow.”

Hongjoong lifted his gaze to the cloudy sky and hummed in agreement, turning again to the starboard side for his last view of the cliffs. The last view of his old fishing grounds. He wondered what his parents would think if they saw him now. Maybe they were watching from somewhere unreachable.

After a moment of silence, Eden took note of the way he craned his neck for a final glimpse and asked him about it.

“What are you searching for out there?”

Hongjoong bit his lip and lowered his head. It felt stupid to try to explain the feelings of nostalgia bubbling inside but he could only picture his parents with this view, a view he’d had every day for most of his childhood.

“I know they’re gone, I saw their bodies. But part of me held on to the hope that they were still out there somewhere, somehow. That I just hadn’t looked hard enough.” He sighed and faced Eden again, continuing, “I know I won’t find them, but I’m looking for them anyway in a manner of speaking.”

The captain forced down a swallow and trained his eyes ahead on nothing in particular, as if afraid even a flinch would shatter his young apprentice.

“It can be dangerous to imagine ghosts in the places you wish to see them,” he whispered solemnly.

Hongjoong frowned. The pirate seemed as if he spoke from experience, seeing the ghosts he spoke of in a scene unfolding before his eyes.

“But…” Eden cleared his throat and shook himself out of his reverie. “Perhaps they are guiding your travels. Just out of view.”

With a nod Hongjoong told him that was how he pictured them now, leading him on his way from the sky.

“I thought the day they died, I died,” he admitted. “I never would’ve guessed I could come back out here one day. Certainly not like this.”

He smiled in appreciation for the trustworthy Stardust that carried him hence and Eden mirrored it, unable to resist.

“Steady on, Hongjoong,” he encouraged, heading back towards the cabin for bed. “Maddox will take the watch after yours.”

“Yessir,” Hongjoong called back, suppressing a giggle. Captain or no, if he could get away with teasing the Dread Pirate, he’d gladly do so.

As usual, Eden had been right and as the night wore on, Hongjoong’s vision did indeed adjust to the darkness. He wrapped the blanket around him to preserve body heat and stave off the cold, so the next problem was the matter of keeping awake.

He entertained himself with quiet singing and reciting random lines and poems he remembered, passing the time as best he could while confined to the quarterdeck.

Just as his four hours came to an end, the clouds dispersed to share the light of the stars.

They were brilliant already, having adjusted his sight, and Hongjoong could only imagine how much brighter they looked to the east with no light of civilisation to hide them.

Maddox’s teasing voice interrupted his thoughts as he joined him on the quarterdeck. “Look at you, standing at the wheel. It’s almost as big as you are.”

“And yet I did not waver!” Hongjoong shot back, insistent. Still, he couldn’t help but show his relief on letting go of the wheel that he was finally able to stretch away the soreness of standing in one place for so long. “Check the charts, we’re still on course.”

Maddox obliged and kept up idle conversation while he checked. “Not biting off more than we can chew, are we?”

“No, just taking on what I know I’m ready for,” Hongjoong replied with a grin. He was nothing if not ambitious for a first time voyager.

The quartermaster was quiet for a moment more before rolling up his chart again and returning a smile to the young pirate. “Fortunately for you, you’re correct,” he affirmed. “We are very much on track. Should I continue on or drop anchor as usual?”

Hongjoong gave the question a bit of thought. “Well, hyung— I mean Captain— didn’t say. But seeing as I don’t want to be finished with my first voyage too soon, I wouldn’t object to dropping anchor. It would give me a chance to capture these stars.”

“Capture them?” Maddox asked, confused.

In lieu of a proper answer, Hongjoong instructed him to wait while he fetched a plain canvas bag from below to demonstrate with.

Thanks to some helpful timing he also took advantage of Minseob’s presence on deck rousing the men to drop anchor to sneak into the boatswain’s lodgings and swipe his paint pots.

“Whose paints are those?” Maddox snorted, skeptical, when Hongjoong returned with his supplies. “Did you steal them just now?”

Hongjoong pulled up a seat and settled in, pretending to be affronted at the accusation. “Well we’re pirates, aren’t we? I thought stealing was part of the job. And it’s not stealing, it’s borrowing. I’ll give them back when I’m done.”

The quartermaster rolled his eyes fondly at the teen and refocused on the task at hand, still curious what the young apprentice was planning.

It was a bit difficult to distinguish from among similar shades of blue and violet, so Hongjoong opened his mouth to ask for a lantern to be brought only to find Maddox already approaching him with one.

“Thanks,” he chirped, positioning the bag on his lap and beginning to slather it in paint to make the background. “It’ll be just as good as carrying charts when I’m finished.”

“The stars?” Maddox asked for confirmation, realising what the aim of this spontaneous art project was. “You’re painting the stars over Panhang.”

Hongjoong hummed an affirmation, deeply concentrated on the act of placing each individual white dot in the correct location.

It took him a great deal of time to ensure his work was correct and precise and yet more time to bring it up to a visual standard with nicely blended colours to represent the sky.

Satisfied at last, two hours later, he drew his final stroke and hung the canvas bag to dry.

“There,” he said in satisfaction, mostly to himself. “Now they’ll always be with me.”

Overhearing this but unwilling to question him about it, Maddox remained at his post for the watch, waiting for Hongjoong to pack up his supplies before reminding him of the hour and nudging him along to bed.

Hongjoong stuck out his tongue in defiance but obeyed gladly, energy finally spent.

He was a pirate in training now, bedtimes were of no consequence.

He’d regret it in the morning, but his temporary guardian Babylon would have mercy and let him sleep in until noon when dishes needed to be washed again.

It was around lunchtime that Hongjoong emerged from the hold, reporting for duty in the galley and catching up on the washing after a quick meal of his own.

Yesterday had given him the chance to quickly get the hang of where things were located, and some of his free time in the afternoon when Babylon was busy with surgeon duties was spent in the food pantry and storage areas taking stock of what ingredients had been brought along on a trip such as this.

When it was time to get back to work, Hongjoong was deemed a cooking hazard after Babylon witnessed his method of frying eggs and relegated to lesser tasks around the galley.

So he sat atop a barrel shucking oysters instead, listening to the man go on about the delicate art of cooking until he grew bored enough to get lost in his own daydreams.

“And you had better stitch up the holes in that shirt, you know,” Babylon was saying when Hongjoong finally tuned back in. “I’m not sure if Eden will allow you ashore with us when we reach Keunhae to buy another.”

“Oh...” Hongjoong sighed, glancing down at the fabric, peppered with small tears that grew bigger the more he moved. It was nice and warm in the galley thanks to the fireplace, but on deck it would only take a slight breeze to send him shivering. “I would if I knew how.”

“You haven’t tried sewing yet?” The cook tutted disapprovingly. “It’s an under-appreciated but very useful pirate skill. There’s always mending to be done, especially on the sails.”

Hongjoong smiled in embarrassment. “I’ve watched my aunts and cousins embroider cushions before. I take it this is not the same thing.”

“Not exactly, but I’m sure they use a variety of stitches that may be useful to you,” Babylon explained, taking the nearest basket of oysters to add to the stew. “Finish that last batch there and find me in the infirmary after supper. It’s as good a time as any to learn.”

As the sun began to set in a spectacular display of colours and the archipelago appeared on the horizon, Hongjoong watched carefully while the pirate mended his shirt and then practiced stitching some scrap by himself late into the night.

Just as Babylon predicted, Maddox dropped in before bed to inform Hongjoong he was to stay with the ship when they anchored, disguised as a generic merchant ship.

The quartermaster then hurried off to see to the docking process, muttering about having to pay the wharfing fee.

Hongjoong didn’t become jealous until the morning when there was much more to see through the little porthole window by his bunk; activity on the docks and a village market just beyond. A flock of geese flew south in formation.

With Eden and the rest of the officers gone, there was only Minseob left to bother from among his friends, so Hongjoong spent the day playing cards with him.

Babylon returned distracted, toting a new purchase with him to his office; a spellbook of the mystic arts.

Hongjoong could manage chores in the galley just fine without him, but when suppertime rolled around he poked his head in the infirmary to ask what he should do.

“Nothing for now, boy,” Babylon shot over his shoulder, still elbow deep in his new book but pushing it to the side and getting to his feet. “I’ll see to the meal, you can go up on deck until the bell.”

The Stardust was leaving port and he was quickly needed to help weigh anchor.

Babylon’s new studying material took up all his free time in the following days, and Hongjoong only saw him at mealtimes for awhile, performing his duties regularly otherwise.

Running from place to place to bring food and drinks to the officers was the best part of being cabin boy for giving Hongjoong the chance to find out what everyone was up to throughout the day. Sometimes it was rigging the sails, sometimes cleaning the cannons, sometimes plotting their course.

Everything Hongjoong had left to learn, he took upon himself to try.

It was one of those afternoons where he sat reading in his hammock while the old pirate beside him napped away his pesky winter fever when the wind changed.

The Stardust had turned east, prowling the shipping lanes for easy prey, and hadn’t yet gotten a bite, and now it seemed something in the air had changed.

In the hammock next to him, the deckhand sat up with a groan and a hacking cough and peered out the window before shaking his head. “A storm’s coming.”

Hongjoong’s stomach dropped and his hands seemed to freeze on hearing his. “Is it?” His voice was little more than a whisper, and the book in his grip became a lifeline. “Are you sure it’s not the aches and pains of your illness?”

“They don’t call me the Weathervane for nothing,” the old pirate muttered gruffly, leaving the room and going up on deck to ensure the captain knew what was headed for them.

At this time of year, surely it was just a bit of rain. Not a typhoon like the kind that blasted through these waters in late summer. Not one like the storm that killed his parents.

For all his bravery in setting out for the sea once more, Hongjoong hadn’t pushed his luck in a storm since that day. Not since he felt the boat crack underneath him and the crash of the waves swallow him whole.

Distantly he could hear the cries of men readying to face down the tempest and retreated further into his bed. They wouldn’t need him on deck, what could he possibly do to help in this paralysed state?

True to the Weathervane’s word, clouds were gathering and speeding toward them at a rapid pace when Hongjoong finally worked up the nerve to go to the porthole window and look. Already the rocking of the ship was harsher than the rhythm he had become accustomed to.

It didn’t take much longer for the crack of thunder to grow louder as wind battered the Stardust and washed torrents of seawater over the sides and down into the hold.

A group of crewmen hurried down with buckets to bail the pooling water, and when it began to gather around his ankles, Hongjoong jumped in to join them.

It was backbreaking work and more than once Hongjoong found himself knocked backwards by the force of a sudden wave, soaked in the rising bilge water and shaking from the cold.

Minseob’s boatswain whistle sounded from above, the tune that summoned the officers and, wondering what their strategy was for safely exiting the storm, Hongjoong paused and considered going up to join them.

Handing his pail to another crewman and peering up through the grating, he watched the heavy rain, flying sideways through the air, and pushed back his fear.

He could do this.

History would not repeat itself.

Shakily, he climbed to the main deck, noticing the officers dispersing from their quick meeting to various stations around the ship. It appeared that some of them were assigned to oversee the working of the pumps, some to continue in the bailing efforts, and others to secure the rigging which was half done.

Eden himself was at the wheel, carefully navigating a veritable minefield of treacherous high waves. Hongjoong moved to the side and held fast to the bulwark, cowering from the storm but carefully watching the captain’s movements.

A scream from above suddenly captured his attention, the snapping of a rope and then the sickening crack of bones as a pirate in the rigging lost his hold, missed his footing, slipped in the rain, and tumbled down to the main deck.

Hongjoong’s heart jumped into his throat at the sight of the man, dead on impact with his limbs splayed in a most unusual way from the force of the fall.

Fearful eyes traced heavenward at the place where he had been securing the sail, the fore upper topsail yard.

He left behind a corner of the buntline which let the sail flap in the wind, needing to be hauled taut. None of the older riggers were able to do it, not with a broken lift rope and the tapering edge too small for them to perch on.

Babylon was rushing to inspect the body, but Hongjoong found himself walking to the shrouds.

He glanced back at Eden for a moment before ascending them. The captain met his eyes and nodded him on.

He had conquered his fear, now he must conquer the sea.

Scampering up the shrouds, Hongjoong met Youngsaeng in the topsails and followed him to the treacherous beam. He had quickly surmised the boy’s purpose there without any verbal indications.

“Are you sure about this?” The master rigger asked, grasping the boy by the shoulder and levelling him with his eyes, dead serious. He didn’t want yet another sailor’s blood on his hands.

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly and began to move on his own. He could do it.

The feeling of the mast shuddering under his hands was so familiar, but he pushed away the memories and willed his limbs to move.

“Help me now,” he whispered into the sky, hoping his parents could hear him from somewhere.

In the battering of the wind, the yard was very unstable, but Hongjoong clung to it with what strength he had and shimmied and reached forward, peering through sheets of rain to see the lines in front of him.

He knew his running rigging by heart, and it took only a few swift motions to fully lash the sail before he could scramble back to safety. A flash of lightning close to the ship made him startle in panic, but he tangled his arms in the shrouds and steadily made his way back down with Youngsaeng’s thanks.

Being the oldest officer aboard, it was probably not the easiest job for the man to distribute his weight properly on the precarious end of one of the smallest yardarms, rope or no rope.

Eden was busy angling the prow to avoid being beaten down by the waves, but signalled Hongjoong up to the quarterdeck when he noticed his reappearance.

“Well done,” he told him simply, as if he wasn’t also straining to maintain the Stardust’s heading. “You are much more powerful than you know.”

Relieved to hear such praise, Hongjoong’s heartbeat returned to a much closer pace to normal and he bowed in acknowledgement before rejoining the work belowdecks.

Though the next hour was not comfortable by any means, the worst had passed, and Hongjoong was satisfied when at last he could empty his bucket for good and curl up in bed with a warm blanket.

By night, the storm had abated to milder rainfall. The next morning, the Stardust entered a fog bank and continued east for the trade winds.

Hongjoong found himself feverish the next morning with a throat so sore he could barely speak and unable to rise to report for work. Embarrassed when Babylon himself came down to the berth to rouse him, he tried to climb up to the galley, but his head pounded and his vision spun.

Seeing the symptoms, Babylon brought the boy instead to the infirmary for a tonic to soothe the illness, one he’d been treating all week as it spread around the lower decks.

“Here’s an ointment for the cough, rub it on your back and chest and sleep here with your head propped up,” he instructed matter-of-factly, offering a blanket and a small bowl of the ointment.

“But hyung, what about the washing?” Hongjoong protested, not very strong of a protestation from him due to his present inability to stand from the bed Babylon was ushering him into.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” the surgeon reassured him, tucking in the blankets himself. “Your only orders for the rest of the week are to recover. I’ll inform the captain.”

Hongjoong meant to quip about what a great deal of power Babylon must have to be able to tell Eden what the orders would be, but began dozing off into a dreamless sleep before the thought fully formed.

He was awoken by the startling bang of a cannon and jumped into a sitting position, his headache hammering into his skull with every pulse beat. In order to find out what was going on, he crept to the main deck, blanket slung around his shoulders, and watched.

It was the man who had fallen from the mast during the storm, with his canvas hammock sewn into a shroud around him, the final stitch poking through his nose as was tradition, being sent to sea with a salute of the guns.

What possessions he must have brought aboard with him went also to the depths, aside from some valuables divided amongst his friends. Hongjoong hadn’t known the man— could only remember seeing him twice really—but it was a somber affair regardless and it spoke volumes to him that these pirates of all people had done what they could to give a stranger in their service the proper respect as he departed this world.

Silently returning to the infirmary, he took the tonic left there for him, struggled to keep it down, and settled in to sleep again when another patient shot him a dirty look. His thoughts kept him up for awhile, swirling around the fallen pirate’s sudden demise, Eden’s respect for the dead, Mingi fishing back in Panhang, and his parents as they’d gone to a watery grave in their final moments.

His dreams returned him to that fateful day, a little over four years ago now, when storm clouds had gathered and the fierce waves which rocked their boat had done so much more damage than they had to the Stardust.

It had stormed in his path yet again even after that night, as if the ocean kept coming back for him. And it kept failing.

In the days that followed, when Hongjoong was well enough to return to his own hammock, he sometimes wondered what was happening back at Jangwon. Was Yubin growing up well? What were his aunts up to today? Had anything interesting happened to his cousins?

They’d all collapse from the shock if they knew what he was doing now.

It was almost midwinter and the Stardust was presently bearing down upon a supply ship, overtaking it with ease and preparing to finally see some action.

Hongjoong geared up with his new weapons and stood by the rail, scaling a rope to see what was happening on the deck of the other ship over the heads of fellow crewmen in his way.

Again, Maddox was the bearer of bad news with orders from Eden that Hongjoong hang back and only cross to the ship when it was secure to help with loading.

But pirates were made for breaking rules, so he hung back until he saw fit to cross the boards to the supply ship, disarming three men himself (all of whom were immobilised by the shock of his apparent age more than anything) before it was officially taken, very proud despite Eden’s muted irritation.

The captain saved his apprentice the inevitable earful about how interacting with anyone outside the Stardust risked unmasking his identity and jeopardised his secrecy from Jangwon and instead fixed him with a warning glare before seeing to the transfer of pilfered goods.

Hongjoong didn’t really care if it meant he had his share of the fun.

The other officers didn’t quite understand the complicated dynamics of his life in the Hall or what being recognised by a civilian trade ship worker could do to him and so predictably were impressed and offered hearty congratulations on his first raid.

Well after the sun had gone down, Hongjoong was knocking on the door to the captain’s cabin and making his way inside with a request. As mere cabin boy, he shouldn't have such easy access to the area but the officers always let him in anyway.

He liked spending time in there, admiring the decor and the organisation and wondering how it might be improved or better suited to his own style.

Maybe some more colour in the windows or better ceiling storage.

Eden was hard at work apparently drawing on one of his maps, marked with his unmistakable bird symbol in the corner.

“What are you writing?” Hongjoong queried, peeking over his hyung’s shoulder.

Eden didn’t budge and didn’t offer any information.

“Nothing.”

And truly despite his pen strokes, the page appeared to be empty. Perhaps something was there in invisible ink. Hongjoong didn’t stop to dwell on it and shot back a quip, “Ah, I see. Very clever.”

He lingered until Eden sighed and looked up, indulging the boy who so clearly required his attention.

“What is it you want?”

“Join us!” Hongjoong proposed with a cheeky smile. “The officers are breaking out the rum in celebration.”

Scoffing, the captain raised an eyebrow at him, asking, “And when did you become an officer?”

“They invited me!” Hongjoong protested, pulling at his hand to get him up from the desk. “Take it up with them.”

Eden found himself dumbfounded again at the boy’s outstanding ability to charm his way into any relationship.

It seemed his men had gone just as soft as he.

“Very well,” he replied, pulling his hand back but giving in knowingly. If Hongjoong and the officers wished it, he had no choice but to make an appearance. "I'll come down when I've finished this."

Hongjoong was learning some of the more obscure sea shanties from Minseob when Eden finally showed his face in the wardroom.

They sang the raucous tunes together rowdily over the first few rounds of drinks and cards and soon Hongjoong had a plethora of melodies filed away in his memory.

He hadn’t sung like this in a long time, loud and carefree with a chorus of men around him. It was fascinating to hear the pirates’ voices, used in the daytime to keep the rhythm of their work alive but now lifting up in simple amusement.

Eden’s tone was softer than expected, and Maddox could reach the highest notes of anyone at the table, but not without prompting a match to see if anyone could beat him.

When the others piled on to tease Youngsaeng for announcing that he was heading out to read, Hongjoong took the opportunity to ask Eden a personal question.

“Hyung, I’ve been wondering about something.”

Eden blinked at him, curious and slightly wary, but said, “Go on.”

“When the Navy caught you and tortured you…” Hongjoong trailed off, biting his lip and wondering belatedly if it was too sensitive a topic before going on, “How could you stand it?”

The pirate downed another drink before answering the question.

“Torture is about control.”

He leaned forward and clasped his hands, explaining the situation as if giving a warning. “The enemy wants to take it from you, but if you refuse to allow them to break your will, you can emerge, scarred, but with the satisfaction that you’ve drowned their plans in silence.”

Hongjoong swallowed and traced the grain of the table with his eyes. He couldn’t easily imagine such a state.

“It must be difficult to endure,” he muttered.

“Until you learn how to distance yourself from your own pain…” Eden trailed off and then drew a long breath, as if giving bad news. “It is.”

Hongjoong tucked the information away for later, hoping he wouldn’t need it. It sounded like a technique best mastered through practice.

“It doesn’t always need to come to torture, though,” the pirate followed up quickly, an attempt at reassurance. “If you’re dealing with multiple officers, there may be another way out. Learn what you can about them, which you can piss off, which you can flatter, which you can bribe, and which you can threaten. In every situation, do what you can to know your enemy.”

Thinking it over for a moment, Hongjoong considered a different approach.

“What about those which you can recruit to your cause?”

Eden cracked a small smile and shook his head knowingly. It was a highly optimistic proposal from the young apprentice, but he couldn’t dismiss it entirely.

“If it is possible to infiltrate Navy power structures to that extent, I haven’t discovered how to do it,” the captain admitted. “Aside from Minseob I guess, which wasn’t entirely my doing.”

Hearing his name, the boatswain clinked glasses with his captain in salute and the rest of the officers ceased their side conversation to join in.

Sailing Master Jihan leaned over from next to Hongjoong and made a sarcastic aside in his direction. “Must be why he’s the only former naval officer aboard. Captain never makes the same mistake twice.”

Aside from Minseob who rolled his eyes in annoyance, the other officers broke out into a slightly drunken laughter.

Master Gunner Soomin piped up from his end with a remark, “I think our Dread Pirate Eden simply hasn’t been able to relax and relate to the more amenable lower ranked soldiers much yet.”

“One of his many regrets,” Babylon hummed in agreement.

“Forgive me if I only want the finest crewing the best pirate ship the world has ever seen!” Eden scoffed, punctuating his exclamation with a swig of rum.

“You and Admiral Kim, goodness,” Maddox tutted in fond amazement. “Two big egos, head to head.”

Head still pointed down in his drink, Eden balked at the mention of the Admiral, eager to draw a distinction between them. “He’s out for money and fame.”

Interested in the topic of the infamous enemy of pirates, Hongjoong caught his mentor’s attention and dug for more. “So, what, he’s jealous? Because you have both? Why doesn’t he just go dig for buried treasure instead?”

“Oh, maybe because he’s barking mad?” Jihan crowed with a jeering laugh that set off the whole table again.

Eden folded his arms and dignified his apprentice with a serious response. “Despite what you may have heard, we don’t typically bury our treasure. Not on purpose anyway.”

The smile fell from Hongjoong’s face. Where was the fun in that?

“Why save your gold for another day when your life could be over tomorrow?” Eden continued, a perfectly good explanation, before hesitating and downing another drink. “Typically.”

Stars lit up in Hongjoong’s eyes at the implication and he lowered his voice to a near whisper to ask, “Typically as in… you’re the exception?”

Eden sighed and rolled his head back to rest on the chair he sat in, eyes snapped shut in defeat. Hongjoong always managed to wrangle the truth out of him somehow.

“Well, it may yet prove to be lucrative in my case, given the Navy’s pursuit, to keep a hidden stash somewhere for myself and any successors,” he carefully divulged. “That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

By now enough strong drink had been consumed to lower inhibitions and Jihan’s volume was a bit too loud for comfort when he butted in once more asking, “Yonghwan-hyung is it me? Am I the successor—?”

Minseob quickly shot him a glare and a brief scolding for addressing Eden too informally.

“That’s ‘Captain’ to you, Jihan.”

“You let Hongjoong say his name all the time!” The navigator complained just as loudly but sat back in his own chair, yielding.

And it was true, Minseob had been especially lenient on their newest recruit which was entirely out of character.

“Perhaps I trust him more not to go blabbing about it,” the boatswain said with a shrug. “At the very least a codename would be prudent.”

“Oh, please,” Jihan whined, dismissing the idea. “I’m not calling him the Dread Pirate Eden while drinking in the wardroom. You go too far, dear boatswain.”

Hongjoong frowned at this and turned to him in confusion.

“Is that the purpose of a codename?” He asked, slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t known. Like many things the pirates did, he assumed it was just for flair. “I had always thought I’d prefer using my own.”

“Oh, you don’t really have a choice in the matter,” Jihan chuckled. “Pirates attract nicknames. If any old salt has heard of you, you can be sure he’s already nicknamed you. Sailors love to tell stories.”

“Just hope you don’t get something stupid attached to your persona for the rest of your life,” Maddox advised from his side of the table. “Reputation is everything for a pirate.”

“I liked Captain Seongho’s,” Jonghoon interjected brightly, quickly defending his choice when mention of the old disgraced Seongho proved unpopular. “‘The Shark’ is very fitting, his ship was even called the Hammerhead.”

Maddox turned to their captain and sized him up, considering his nickname. “The Dread Pirate is… well, could be worse.”

“Could be better,” Eden mumbled. It was a typical night for him, beset by his joking officers.

The revelry continued until most of the officers had retired for bed and Babylon collected the dishes, leaving them in the galley for tomorrow’s washing.

Before the captain and quartermaster could turn in, however, Hongjoong approached them with a humble request.

“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask, a—” He interrupted himself with a dry cough, the last remnant of his earlier bout of sickness. “A favour.”

And that was how he ended up in the captain's cabin with his ears pierced several times over.

Maddox chuckled as he put away the needle he had used, impressed with Hongjoong’s insistence that it didn’t hurt.

“Now we’ve got to give it enough time to heal before we go to Panhang,” Eden pointed out from the seat at his desk. “Or else your guardians could notice it.”

“Unlikely,” Hongjoong responded, a bitter twinge to his voice even while he busied himself with inspecting his new jewellery in the handheld mirror Maddox had offered him. “I keep telling you, they don’t pay that much attention to me.”

“Regardless, it will be safest to lay low for a while after you get back,” the captain insisted with a tone of finality in his voice, barely glancing up from his maps.

Hongjoong’s mood darkened at the mention of the return journey. He didn’t want to think about that just yet.

“Let me live it up here first,” he argued, a tad petulant. It had always worked on the captain before. “That’s the point of my being here, isn’t it?”

Eden’s distracted grunt from the desk as he poured himself another drink from his private stores was answer enough, and Hongjoong grinned at Maddox in triumph.

It was his chance to experience pirate life, after all.

And as he looked at himself in the mirror, he realised he was beginning to look the part. Aside from the piercings, his hair was tousled and growing past his ears, a far cry from the polished appearance he was expected to have at Jangwon. Freckles sprinkled ruddy cheeks, a sign of all his time in the sun lately, and the mischievous smile he was sporting much better suited him than the bleak expression he was used to wearing at the Hall.

The colonies would be his new playground.

Hongjoong was sitting on the main deck with Minseob and Babylon, helping to repair some equipment, when Coral Harbour came into view. The Stardust had opted to bypass Kibo after receiving a tip that a number of navy ships were gathered there. It seemed they wouldn’t be the only pirates undercover for the midwinter festivities.

The lucky seamen without wanted posters of their faces plastered all over the island were permitted to go and celebrate for the night while they were anchored. It would take a bit more disguising for the officers, however, a fact which Babylon seemed to have forgotten as he got to his feet and turned to climb down to the docks.

“I’ll go and secure lodging,” he offered an explanation and climbed over the rail, stopped by Minseob’s panicked shout.

“They’ll recognise you instantly! Send one of the deckhands to do it instead.”

“No they won’t,” rebutted Babylon with a sly smile. Before their eyes, his form began to change into that of another man. His face was becoming warped and aged, and his height changed, shrinking down as if he had hunched his back. Even the clothing he wore was now grey in colour where it had been blue before.

Hongjoong’s jaw dropped and he and Minseob both went speechless.

This was magic of some kind happening right in front of him. Hongjoong had always presumed it to be possible but never so clear, happening plain as day and so fast you could blink and miss it.

If only Mingi could see this now, then all his superstitions would be confirmed.

“Very handy, isn’t it?” Babylon chuckled through this stranger’s face. Even his voice was different, much more than a mere added gruffness.

Hongjoong approached cautiously and reached out a hand to touch him. This was no illusion, it was like another man in the flesh. “Where did you learn it?”

“The spellbook from that village on Keunhae,” Babylon admitted, conjuring a hat for his head and adjusting it to fit properly. “There are a great deal many useful ideas in there. Not just on changing form but other kinds of magic. I’m working on making things disappear. Image how useful that could be! I mean, even the implications of this medically are astounding…”

“Well, carry on then,” Minseob laughed, amazed. “I didn’t know the gift of sorcery could be… developed… like this. We’ll have to consult the Mystic when we travel southwest from here.”

Hongjoong watched Babylon go with excitement, feeling as if an entirely new world was just unlocked for him.

“Did you know about this?” Minseob asked the cabin boy, a glint of delight in his own eye as well.

“No!” Hongjoong laughed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. “But I guess it makes sense now why he’s been so busy recently.”

And the new sorcerer’s work had paid off, for no one was the wiser when he purchased the officers a hallway full of rooms at the nearest inn to the docks and ushered them in under the innkeeper’s nose.

So dedicated was he that, when the others went out to see fireworks set off and dancers and acrobats in the square, Babylon stayed behind to study some more.

Hongjoong watched the festival show with a giddiness he hadn’t felt since he was a little boy. It felt like he was seeing the world for the first time in every new trick and trinket.

He spent a chunk of the money he’d saved up in the marketplace, trying a variety of street foods and buying some silver jewellery for his newly pierced ears. The atmosphere was a bit more chaotic than Panhang, but it had this vibrant quality to it that intrigued him. It was a colony of Jaecho, not at all autonomous but distant from mainland society and structure. Perhaps the further east you travelled, the more lawless and independent the islands became.

If they were all this colourful and animated, he’d gladly explore every one of them.

The festivities lasted late into the night, and by the time the men returned to their lodging, Hongjoong was fully prepared to sleep away his exhaustion.

In the morning, only boring work remained, like restocking the ship and careening the Stardust for repairs. Barnacles must be shed and leaks must be caulked to ensure she could travel at her swiftest, lest those navy ships lurking near Kibo catch up with them on their way to plot out the uncharted islands in the south.

The Mystic’s Island was supposedly located almost halfway between the colonies and the mainland, back the way they had come but southward, approximate in latitude to the Tae peninsula. Due to the large stretches of open ocean around it, and its measurable distance from trade routes, the area was relatively unexplored, hence Eden’s mission to explore the nearby uninhabited islands.

Despite their efforts, the way was blocked barely a few hours after they set out again by the Seabear, a navy ship directly in their path.

“I can handle this,” Babylon quickly offered when the sighting was called. “I’ll disguise myself as a whaling ship captain and you officers can wait below.”

Thinking quickly, Eden agreed to this plan and ordered for the colours to be changed. They had a number of fake flags to fly.

Hongjoong watched out of the corner of his eye while he brought down the flag as instructed and replaced it with a neutral one. The Seabear hadn’t seen them yet, but the closer they drifted, the more likely they would be noticed.

Babylon had altered his appearance yet again, this time to another strange face Hongjoong had never seen. He wondered if Babylon invented these alter egos entirely or if they were based on someone’s likeness.

Remaining nondescript and in the background, he observed Babylon at the helm taking on another character entirely, down to his manner of gesturing. When the Seabear drew close enough for conversation, he spoke with the navy officers for a few moments and then they were again on their way, two ships passing each other.

Despite how easily they had made it through, there was a dark cloud over the sorcerer when he returned to his regular form and work in the galley.

“That was excellent,” Hongjoong complimented from the table where he chopped vegetables, excited after such a risky encounter. It was just the sort of scheme that made pirate life rewarding. “The Stardust can get away with anything with you on board. How did you learn the ability so quickly?”

Ignoring the question, Babylon put his frustration into seasoning the meat, pounding spices into it and mumbling, “Could get away with more if we finished the job.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong asked, confused. It had gone off without a hitch, it was the perfect escape.

“We should’ve killed them,” Babylon turned and stared at the boy like it was obvious. “They’re just in our way.”

“I-I didn’t think that was the way of things,” Hongjoong stuttered and his hands stilled. Sure, they were pirates but they didn’t pick fights and murder excessively. “We intimidate and take hostages, taking lives is a last resort—”

“And that’s why we keep running into them,” Babylon cut him off, stone cold. It was tensely quiet for a moment before he continued his cooking. “Because we refuse to eliminate our enemies.”

Hongjoong considered the possibility late into the night. He supposed with Babylon’s new skills the Stardust could go on the offensive and strike anyone who might strike them first. But what would that entail?

Combat with trained soldiers, not unsuspecting merchants.

And, as confident as he was growing, Hongjoong wasn’t ready for that level of fighting yet.

He approached Jonghoon the next day to get in some target practice, and the Master-At-Arms easily obliged. Eden had only been able to oversee Hongjoong’s training personally once or twice since beginning their voyage, and they all knew it would be good for the boy to work with the other officers as well.

Long range shooting wasn’t the easiest for Hongjoong, but the encounter with the Seabear had made him restless and so he took the time required to improve his precision and timing.

Jonghoon helped him with little adjustments here and there until he was consistently accurate.

Some mornings, the pirates who shared quarters with him would take their breakfast on the main deck to watch him shoot a row of bottles off the quarterdeck railing from the other side of the ship.

“Good,” Jonghoon coached him. “Now relo—”

He was interrupted by the bang of the pistol going off again as Hongjoong pulled out his second gun and began firing, no reloading necessary.

The final bottle shattered and Babylon laughed from his place on the starboard side, “I think he was paying attention on his first day.”

The squawk of a great frigatebird lighting on the yard above Hongjoong’s head distracted him from readying a teasing retort, and all of a sudden the pirates were cheering him on to shoot the thing down.

Without hesitating for more than a second, he took his aim. The large bird was just perched there on the mast momentarily, not paying any attention to the people down below.

“Go on!” Babylon hissed through his teeth, just in case it spooked and flew off.

Before it knew what hit it, the frigatebird was blasted out of the sky and fell to the deck. Hongjoong remained still, tensed with his gun trained where the bird had been a moment earlier.

He’d shot it down.

The spectating pirates clapped courteously and went back to their business, aside from Babylon who approached with a satisfied smile.

“They’re a lot like us,” he pointed out when he had the large bird by the scruff of its neck, ensuring that it was dead.

“How do you mean?” Hongjoong asked quietly, holstering his pistol. “I thought frigatebirds couldn’t swim.”

“They can’t,” Babylon agreed. “They’re like us because they’re thieves. They steal food from other birds you know.”

Finally Hongjoong exhaled and cracked a small smile at the surgeon’s humour. It was a bit unsettling to watch the bird die by his own hand.

“First kill?” Babylon asked him knowingly.

He nodded. “With the gun anyway. Fish and shellfish aren’t quite the same as shooting a frigatebird out of the sky. Do you think we can eat it? I’d hate to have killed it for no reason.”

Perhaps in Babylon’s eyes it was a little boy’s innocent affection for the bird talking, but especially from a pirate’s perspective Hongjoong knew the creatures of the sea were travellers there just like them. As meaningful a death as he could afford the bird was the proper way of things.

“It’s a clean wound, I don’t see why not,” came the response, and soon enough Babylon was bringing the bird down to the galley. “I’m sure it tastes just like chicken.”

Jonghoon patted the boy on the back as he turned to collect the broken bottles. “Your speed is excellent,” he complimented over his shoulder.

Pirate life, Hongjoong had discovered, required two important things; deception and speed. The deception was easy to understand, but there were many uses for speed aboard a pirate vessel. Sailing fast, quick thinking, the ability to jump into action with very little information— the list ran on and on.

The Stardust herself was a vessel of speed, known for travelling up to 12 knots in record time and routinely chasing down hulking merchant ships and leaving attackers in the dust.

But there was nothing to be done about attackers on the inside.

Halfway to the nearest island, a pirate disappeared.

Just a few minutes after a sailor reported his bunkmate missing, the Weathervane reported a strange stain of blood on the forecastle where someone appeared to have been standing.

The pirates in the berth were buzzing about the news though the officers remained tight-lipped about their investigation.

It seemed most likely that the missing pirate had jumped overboard, but the theory didn’t explain the bloodstain.

Being cabin boy, Hongjoong had more proximity to the officers than the average sailor, so he did his best to find out any new information while washing the dishes for the day. Babylon had scolded him once before for using too much of their limited water supply, so he was careful to finish quickly but took his time mustering the nerve to ask his question.

“What did you make of the bloodstain, hyung?”

If anyone was sure to have a professional opinion on it, it was the surgeon Babylon. He’d inspected the stain immediately after it was discovered but not deigned to announce his findings.

“Oh, terrible thing, that,” he tutted over his reading. Buried in the spellbook again. “But it could just have easily have been an accident.”

Hongjoong took in a breath to raise his objections, but Babylon suddenly fixed him with a gaze, intense but unreadable.

“Accidents are common at sea. You should know.”

Hongjoong’s mouth snapped shut. The pirate’s comment had hit just too close to home.

“What do you mean by that?” He gritted out, trying not to give himself away by his heavy breathing. A nerve had just been struck and the pirate had no right to be talking about this.

Sighing in annoyance, Babylon clasped his hands. “Very well, I’ll spell it out.”

He enunciated every word in a patronising tone, like Hongjoong should be grateful he was dumbing it down for him. “If he died due to his own stupidity, it’s no one’s fault but his own. Yes, it’s regrettable but that’s what the ocean does. Your parents were no exception.”

Immediately Hongjoong’s eyes filled with tears. What a callous thing to say, even from a pirate.

“What, so it’s normal to just tumble overboard with no explanation?” Hongjoong choked out, anger building inside. “You’re saying he deserved to drown?”

“Not everyone is cut out for it,” Babylon sneered, hardly bothered by the growing tension. “You respect the natural forces of this world or you die. So don’t waste your time being scared.”

Fists clenched until bloody crescent moons broke the skin.

“And if you’re going to cry, do it somewhere else,” Babylon waved a hand dismissively. “I haven’t the patience.”

Hongjoong was already gone, storming outside and climbing up into the sails, finally perching on the very same yard he had carefully traversed during the storm. A fall from that height would kill him, he knew, but he didn’t care at the moment. He just needed somewhere to be alone, somewhere the wind could dry the tears on his face before they were seen.

Here he had thought that after four years of feeling so alone, he had found a home.

But there it was; the tragedy that had ruined his life being used to define him, as a victim. Suddenly he didn’t belong.

How did Babylon even know about his parents? Hongjoong wondered about it as he angrily scrubbed his face. Could Eden have told him? Had it come out over a night like the one they’d had on the way to the colonies, with the officers drunk and carefree? Had everyone laughed? Had they joked about Hongjoong’s fear of the sea?

Babylon’s words seemed like a thinly veiled threat. That the ocean would not hesitate to take the weakest of those who set out on it. The missing pirate, his parents… even Hongjoong.

But he was no weakling, he was a pirate now. He wasn’t afraid of the ocean, he didn’t need to run away, and he wouldn’t cry in front of the men.

Babylon had been so kind and patient before. He’d nursed him back to health himself. He knew firsthand how Hongjoong had grown tougher. Closing his eyes and sighing, he wondered if he really was being too sensitive.

Few things annoyed him like that condescending tone of voice. Hongjoong hated being spoken to like a child.

He wasn’t one anymore. He hadn’t been for years now.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to trust the pirates. What a ridiculous notion, that he could trust thieves and killers. And yet he still wished to be part of their world, their community. To throw away the rules and go with the tides. The Stardust was where he came to chase his dreams.

Looking out at the boundless blue before him, Hongjoong wondered if this had been the frigatebird’s last view, in the seconds before he had shot it down.

It was dangerous but it was also peaceful. An untouchable refuge close to the clouds. From here, he could float away wherever he wished, an escape on the wind.

Still, he couldn’t hide up there forever and as much as he wanted to stay upset when he reappeared for suppertime, Babylon’s changed demeanour calmed him down considerably.

He looked apologetic as he placed a dinner plate in front of Hongjoong for his meal. The portion was a bit bigger than usual.

“Look, I’m sorry I upset you,” the pirate sighed, sitting across from him with his own untouched plate. He’d waited for the cabin boy to come back before starting. “But if you want to live out here—”

“I’ve gotten over it,” Hongjoong interrupted, avoiding eye contact and eating his food with renewed purpose. “Doesn’t matter anyway.”

After a moment of silence, Babylon nodded and began to eat, clearly still lost in thought. “Eden will be tightening his leash on you I suspect. But if he’s trained you well enough… well, you’ll have nothing to fear from falling overboard like that man.”

If that was really what had happened to him.

And as it turned out, three days later, that theory was beginning to look very unlikely. Another pirate went missing. Another stain of blood appeared.

Only this one was splattered over much wider a distance.

“It must have happened in the night,” the Weathervane whispered from his hammock while Hongjoong lay awake listening, unsettled. “Can’t have been an accident or a suicide. It looks like a struggle took place, like the body was dragged up to the forecastle.”

“But who would do such a thing?” Another pirate asked, fear seeping into his voice.

No one could answer.

Candlelit nights of stories, games, and laughter among the men became silent and tense, each one wondering if he would be next. Every time the Stardust creaked, it felt like the sound of a prowling killer.

More murders followed, each with the same evidence but a seemingly random victim, and the investigation quietly continued. Rules were instituted about where and when the pirates could go and a curfew confined them to their berth by dark. The officers rotated the night watches by themselves.

Babylon continued to be irritable, and to work late nights in the infirmary by the light of a single candle. He must’ve been lashing out from the stress of the murder case, Hongjoong reasoned. The surgeon had never looked this busy before, with pages from his books littering the room and shelves stacked with jars of blood he kept for some sort of experiment.

They were one day out from the nearest potential landfall when Hongjoong discovered the truth. It was late afternoon and he was supposed to stay belowdecks while he wasn’t needed in the galley, but he was bored and needed Babylon’s help sewing up a hole in his wool sock.

In accordance with the new regulations, he had to report his whereabouts, so he went up to the main deck first where Maddox was on watch and announced his intentions to find Babylon in the infirmary.

“You want to leave your berth? Not to scare you, Hongjoong, but a killer is at large,” Maddox reminded him sombrely.

“I’m not scared,” Hongjoong defended himself quickly, hoping he sounded more convinced than he felt.

The quartermaster sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “If something were to happen to you—”

Hongjoong jumped in to reassure him, “I can handle myself, hyung. Eden taught me for a reason.”

Maddox shook his head and smiled fondly. The boy just didn’t understand.

“Yonghwan doesn’t take apprentices, he doesn’t train pirates. He’s rarely so open, even with his inner circle,” he explained, placing a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “But you… you’re special, Hongjoong. You changed everything. So don’t do anything rash, please, he’d lose his mind if you got hurt.”

Removing Maddox’s hand and giving it a confident pat, Hongjoong carried on with his business. “I’m flattered, really, but I’ll be fine. It won’t even be long, I’m just asking a question.”

“Straight back to your hammock when you’re done, no detours!” Maddox commanded him, clearly still nervous. The Stardust was bigger than she looked from the outside, and there were plenty of hallways to be trapped in with an unidentified murderer.

The infirmary was dark and quiet when he entered, with a strangely metallic scent that smelled faint, like something had been burning but was now extinguished.

Babylon was at his desk as usual, whispering foreign words to himself that lilted like an incantation. He didn’t look up as Hongjoong entered, so he approached and spoke up to catch his attention.

“I was hoping you could help me with my stockings—”

“Run along,” Babylon cut him off distractedly, glancing at the cabin boy and the socks dangling from his hands before returning to his reading. “I have work to do, ask someone else to babysit you.”

Gritting his teeth, Hongjoong put aside his indignation to bargain with the pirate. “It’s just this one section, hyung. I’ll try to do it myself but if I could show you when I’m done, maybe you can correct it?”

Babylon didn’t answer, but Hongjoong wouldn’t give up that easily, so he took up a seat on an empty examination table and threaded his needle, getting to work on the difficult corner he was stitching.

Irritated after a few minutes that the seam didn’t look right, Hongjoong huffed and sat back, flinching when he pricked himself with the needle by accident.

Sighing at his own clumsiness, he watched the dot of blood begin to collect on the end of his finger.

Babylon was suddenly out of his seat and catching his arm before he could wipe it away. “Don’t,” he said simply, cradling Hongjoong’s finger and watching the blood begin to stain the grooves of his skin red.

Babylon appeared almost fascinated by it.

“Something wrong?” Hongjoong smirked, amused at the surgeon’s weird behaviour, until Babylon neglected a response and turned to rummage around in his supplies.

“What are you doing?” He asked him, the smile dropping from his face. The pirate was looking at a set of knives now and stopped moving to stare at him intently, still entranced.

He looked like he was weighing unknown options in his head, engrossed in some secret Hongjoong didn’t know about.

Uneasiness spread in the pit of his stomach and he rose from the table, slowly moving toward the door. Something was seriously wrong here.

“A necessary evil,” Babylon finally answered, resigned to whatever the voices in his head had told him to do.

Just as Hongjoong tried to make a break for it, he found himself pinned to the wall by the tall sorcerer with lightning speed, both of his hands wrapped around his throat.

Unable even to gasp at the shock of it while his air supply was slowly being cut off, Hongjoong made a number of failed attempts at squirming away, tears building in his eyes as he tried to understand what was happening.

His eyes landed on something on the shelf above the desk, and he realised what had been right in front of him the whole time.

The jars of blood.

It was Babylon.

He intended to bleed him to death and then throw his body overboard to erase the evidence. He was never investigating the murders, it was him all along.

The blood stains all made sense now. He had ambushed his unsuspecting victims, collected their blood, and disposed of them like they were less than human.

“Why?” Hongjoong croaked out through his raw throat. The pressure just kept increasing and suddenly he was fighting for his life, kicking uselessly with his legs while Babylon laughed an empty chuckle and shook his head.

“You couldn’t possibly understand.”

The moment he removed a hand and turned to grab a knife from the set, when his attention was split between his captive and the weapon, Hongjoong ran for it. Pushing Babylon’s arm away, he sprinted through the room and out the door, opening his mouth to scream for help.

Arms were quickly there tackling him to the floor, knocking the wind out of him and restraining his movements.

Footsteps sounded from down the hallway and Hongjoong struggled harder. Someone was coming, someone who could save him.

A kick to the face stopped him from trying to call out again and bought Babylon enough time to open the hatch above and stick his head out.

His only escape was up.

“Maddox!” He called to the quartermaster on duty. “Let me take the watch, I’ve been neglecting mine.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened and he fought tooth and nail to pry Babylon’s hand from his mouth. Maddox was right there, if only he could get his attention before Babylon sent him away.

“Are you sure?” Maddox called back, completely unaware of the situation just out of view. Hongjoong was trapped right below his eye level, in the corridor. And Babylon’s grip on him was iron.

“Yes, of course,” he suavely reassured the quartermaster, without a hint in his voice of the effort he was expending to conceal his prisoner. “Sorry I’ve been cooped up in the infirmary lately.”

Without argument, Maddox left the deck for the wardroom, and the moment he was gone, Babylon hauled Hongjoong up to the forecastle.

But he needed both hands to drag the boy behind him, finally leaving his mouth uncovered. As he pulled the boy up the steps toward the bowsprit, Hongjoong took his only chance.

“Help!” He yelled hoarsely, praying his voice would reach the other side of the ship where Maddox had been moments earlier. He had to hear, he had to do something or that was it. Retribution would be swift and Hongjoong would be dead.

Dead on a pirate ship without a proper goodbye to anyone.

Mingi would be shattered.

The scream didn’t travel far before Babylon intervened. Receiving a slap to the face for his disobedience, Hongjoong didn’t hear the steps approaching until Maddox’s shout startled him.

“What’s going on here?” He demanded, making his way down from the quarterdeck to investigate.

He had never heard the man so angry.

“Maddox—” Hongjoong cried in relief, trying to crawl back across the ship, but the knife was at his neck in an instant.

It was obvious now who the enemy was. There was no hiding it. Babylon didn’t contrive any excuse, he didn’t change form into the appearance of someone else, he didn’t speak at all. He was caught red handed and there was no explanation good enough for such a betrayal.

The quartermaster shook with rage, unable to come to Hongjoong’s defence.

“Please…” the boy whispered, trembling now as Babylon pulled him up and backed the two of them all the way to the rail. He could slice his throat and spill all the blood he wanted in an instant.

“Captain!” Maddox called sharply, and Eden was outside on the quarterdeck in an instant, followed by the officers who had been with him in his quarters, Jihan and Youngsaeng, who hurried to gather the others when it became clear what was going on.

“Babylon, whatever you’re thinking,” Eden warned darkly, a hand on his holster. He looked straight at the surgeon after a cursory glance at Hongjoong. “Don’t try it.”

“Come any closer and I’ll kill him. It won’t take much,” Babylon delivered the last line haughtily, lifting Hongjoong by the collar of his shirt and shaking him before repositioning the dagger at his throat.

“We can talk about this, Jongmin,” the captain insisted. “Put down the knife.”

He sounded so earnest, so pained to be facing down his own officer. Clearly he thought he could diffuse the situation still, and his eyes pleaded with Babylon to stand down.

“You think I’m bluffing, Captain?” He spat, digging the knife in just above Hongjoong’s collarbone where it began to collect blood. He tried not to whimper but fear had clouded his senses. Distantly, he heard the footsteps of officers climbing up to the main deck. Soomin’s voice gasped from somewhere.

No one could come closer while the knife touched him, slicing a little deeper the more he shook.

Eden whipped out a pistol and trained it on his former friend. “This isn’t you,” he gritted out, fuming.

“You don’t know me!” Babylon roared back, and his voice was loud in Hongjoong’s ears. He screwed his eyes shut and focused on his own shallow breaths. Blood was leaking down in a single stream and soaking his clothes, warm against his icy skin.

“I have a higher purpose now,” Babylon was saying. “And if you stand in my way, you’ll be the first to regret it.”

Eden pursed his lips and flicked off the safety on his gun. His arm continued to hover there, frozen with the inability to finish the job.

Babylon adjusted his grip on the dagger, sticky blood making it harder to grasp, but didn’t move again.

They were at a standstill.

So Hongjoong swung.

Finally he had managed to throw a punch of his own, landing the blow on the side of Babylon’s temple and knocking him back just the right distance to create enough room between his neck and the knife.

There was only one place to go. The very place Babylon had tried to send him.

Overboard.

Before Babylon could recover him, Hongjoong leaned back and somersaulted off the railing, kicking away from the ship and trying to position his feet downwards before he hit the water.

The ocean swallowed him whole without question, and he didn’t fight it at first while he sunk from the momentum of his fall.

Bubbles were foaming up from where he had entered the water, and when finally he could kick his legs and paddle up, they parted so he could meet the surface.

Gasping for air, Hongjoong propelled himself back toward the Stardust, towering above him and moving on at a steady pace.

With a grunt of effort, he followed after, feeling the resistance in the water as the ship’s wake washed him back.

He was being pushed away faster than he could recover his ground, and frustrated sobs punctuated his strokes while he fought back.

It wasn’t working, he was falling behind.

The salty water stung at his neck, but he ignored the pain and swam forward with all the energy he had left, looking up when a shout from the deck drifted down to him.

Minseob was there, and he threw a long rope down that Hongjoong eagerly snatched up, letting himself be pulled along behind and tucking his face down into his shoulder, shielding it from the water that splashed him along the way.

When he drew up to the side and was close enough to climb, he reached a foot out to take his first step, clinging to the rope and walking up the side. Portholes and gunports provided helpful footholds, and soon the officers were pulling him up and helping him over the rail, soaked and shivering from terror.

“Oh, Hongjoong,” Minseob cried in relief, enveloping him in a blanket. He was exhausted, the adrenaline finally starting to wear off, and so he let himself be hugged and cried into the boatswain’s shoulder.

“Yonghwan hyung…” he asked for the captain through hitched breaths, feeling vulnerable even with no sign of Babylon on deck.

“He’s locking Jongmin in the brig,” Youngsaeng explained, a calming hand rubbing the boy’s back.

Where had pirates learned to be soft and comforting like this?

Hongjoong nodded and reached up to rub the tears from his face, meeting eyes with Maddox who dropped to his knees beside him and wiped away the hair that stuck to his forehead.

“Thank you for hearing me,” Hongjoong whispered as loudly as he could through his sore throat, and he let out a sniffle when Maddox rested a hand on his shoulder. It felt so different than it had the first time.

“Thank you for calling,” the quartermaster said gravely. “Honestly, you saved yourself.”

It was frightening but true, Hongjoong realised with a hollow sobriety. His life had almost ended, just like that.

But he had taken a risk and propelled himself to safety. He had proven himself, and Babylon never saw it coming for a second.

The excitement had fizzled out and, when Minseob pulled him to his feet, a tiredness seeped into Hongjoong’s limbs. He was ready for his hammock again.

“Let’s clean you up first,” Eden’s voice broke through the haze and then he was there, carrying Hongjoong to the captain’s cabin and setting him down on the bed, officers trailing behind.

He sent them all out with a quiet command before helping Hongjoong into a change of clothes and bandaging his neck.

The wound had bled considerably but the cut wasn’t too deep, and to his great relief, hadn’t severed any important veins or arteries.

“You did well,” Eden told him when he was dry and safely nestled in the blankets. He said nothing more for awhile, burdened by the knowledge that a man he trusted was a traitor.

Hongjoong could see how much it took for a pirate to trust another. This betrayal was more painful than he could imagine.

“Stay here,” the captain instructed from his desk when the sun began to set and Hongjoong’s restless dozing had still not produced a peaceful sleep. “I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

With that, Eden left the room, likely to question Babylon, and Hongjoong was alone with his thoughts. A shadow by the door told him one of the officers was guarding the room while at the helm, and it was enough security to slowly relax the tension from his shoulders.

It was warmer in the captain’s cabin, which in these tropical waters would typically be stifling, but the chill of his near miss with death clung to him, so Hongjoong clutched the blankets close to him and wiped at the tip of his cold nose.

The golden sunlight began to fade to pink and angled through the windows, playing on the floor in a kaleidoscope of little rainbows projected through the glass.

Hongjoong watched dust particles dance in the sunbeam and let his eyes close when they grew too heavy to stay open.

It was night when he awoke.

Adjusting the blankets, he had rolled over to try to fall asleep again when voices reached his ears from the level below.

“Clearly it was premeditated!” Someone was arguing, Soomin from the sounds of it, and growing more agitated by the second. “The murders took place over more than a single week, Eden. Something like this doesn’t just happen repeatedly.”

They must have been arguing about Babylon, Hongjoong realised. Sitting up from the bed, he considered whether to go down and listen more closely to the officers’ meeting or try to block the conversation out.

It wasn’t his business what happened to Babylon. He just wanted to be far away from the man.

“And I don’t deny that,” Eden admitted, voice somewhat muffled but evidently trying to placate the Master Gunner. “But we all know he started dabbling in magic, why can’t we stop and think for a second what sort of spiritual forces might have been involved in this?”

“Because whatever they may be, he did this himself,” Jonghoon said, insistent. “He made a choice to take blood at the expense of lives. That’s enough information for me.”

Still Eden wasn’t so sure. “There’s something we aren’t understanding here…”

As he trailed off, Hongjoong sighed and slipped out from under the blankets. It wasn’t his business, but he had to know what they would decide concerning Babylon’s fate.

It was too large a question in his mind.

“He was acting strange recently, after he started the shapeshifting,” Youngsaeng was saying before Hongjoong tiptoed from the captain’s cabin and down to the door of the wardroom, listening outside in a crouching position should anyone glance out the window and see him.

Jihan was speaking when he rejoined the conversation.

“I never liked him.”

Minseob groaned and stepped in before the navigator could continue. “No one asked you Jihan. Keep it to yourself for once.”

“You saw his eyes when he had Hongjoong,” Jonghoon reminded the room, voice seemingly directed at Eden. “No regret, no remorse. He knew what he was doing and he meant to do it. To Hongjoong of all people.”

“To think what could have happened,” Youngsaeng shuddered as he considered it aloud. “He was alone with him any number of times.”

Maddox sighed and finally spoke up. “I’m sorry. That… that was my fault, I sent him in there during the lockdown.”

Hongjoong bit his lip anxiously. It really hadn’t been Maddox’s fault. He had insisted he leave the berth himself.

“Don’t put this on yourself, Kyungmoon,” Eden protested. “We both know this is my fault. Hongjoong wouldn’t even be here in the first place if—”

“It’s no one’s fault but Babylon’s,” Minseob broke in firmly. “What’s done is done. The only question is what to do with him now.”

A silence stretched on while the officers thought about the all important question.

“I say we keelhaul the blackguard,” Jihan volunteered an idea and Eden immediately shot it down.

“This is Jongmin we’re talking about! He fought by your side in countless battles against the navy and you won’t even afford him a trial?”

“A traitor who confesses to seven murders and is caught in the act of attempting to commit one more does not require a trial,” Jihan shot back, disgust evident in his voice.  “What would that accomplish?”

Maddox chimed in to remind the captain of his own rules for the ship. “Eden, the penalty here for murdering a crew member has always been death. Jongmin is no exception.”

“I say firing squad,” Soomin suggested. “More dignified than keelhauling but death is what he deserves.”

The sound of Eden collapsing into a chair startled Hongjoong momentarily. His lack of a response spoke volumes. It was just too difficult to sentence someone who had once been your brother to a merciless death, even knowing what he had done.

“Soomin, bring him in here. I’d like to speak with him.”

Hongjoong scrambled out of the way and hid behind the opening door as Soomin followed orders with a sigh.

He could only cling to the shadows when the pirate returned with the prisoner, walking with a blank expression on his face and not bothering to struggle.

There was the sound of a pistol clicking when he entered the room, someone holding a gun to his head while the captain questioned him.

“What were you doing?” He asked harshly, sharp words raising gooseflesh on Hongjoong’s arms as he eavesdropped.

Babylon sounded almost bored with his simple response, “A blood ritual.”

“Why?”

“As preparation for the entrance of the rightful rulers of this world,” Babylon answered, voice rising in volume along with his annoyance. “To expand my powers. To summon my allies.”

“The dark arts have no place on this ship,” Eden replied, his voice still strong but with a hint of fatigue. “You understand the consequences of killing seven men?”

He was still trying to get through to him, reasoning with a madman who knew full well what he had done.

“A mere foretaste of what’s coming. Worthy sacrifices in the name of progress.”

Eden’s sigh betrayed his agony. He longed to show the sorcerer mercy.

“That’s all the proof we need,” Soomin scoffed from his side of the room. “He’s not even trying to make up a decent excuse.”

“And when he escapes with his magic and we find Hongjoong dead in the captain’s cabin next, what then?” Youngsaeng postulated. “We’ll be wishing we’d ended him now. Right now.”

Hongjoong clamped a hand over his mouth to suppress the sharp gasp he’d made from reaching the officer’s ears.

Perhaps he’d been sleeping too soundly after the attempt on his life.

Jihan sounded just as panicked. “He can get out of the cell with his magic?”

“He’s a sorcerer,” Minseob answered him dryly. “We don’t know what he can’t do, so we have to assume he can. It’s a slaughter waiting to happen. He’s a liability we can’t afford.”

Babylon was laughing at their division, their fear over what he could do.

After a moment, the sound died down.

Eden must have been grimly staring the pirate down to shut him up.

Maddox’s voice sounded nearest the door as he begged his captain in a quiet petition, “Yonghwan. Please.”

Hongjoong found himself quietly echoing the plea.

“Jongmin, we will shortly be sighting land. It will be isolated and uninhabited,” Eden announced before finally proclaiming his judgment. “We will maroon you there with no provisions or weapons. I hope you realise you’ve chosen this yourself.”

It was certain death, but not by Eden’s hand. Death by the elements. By the natural forces Babylon so revered.

“Indeed I have,” Babylon responded, and he sounded as if he spoke the words through a wide smile. Arrogantly he went on, “Drop me wherever you like, Captain. But if you won’t provide means to survive, at least let me have my spellbook. A man needs his reading.”

And with no strong objections from the officers, Eden agreed.

What harm could he do, alone on a southern island devoid of resources? Even with the book, he wouldn’t last a week.

Questions more or less answered, Hongjoong crept back to the captain’s cabin and dove under the covers once more.

It was creepy how unapologetic Babylon sounded, how aware and uncaring of his own evil. When he had suggested to kill the soldiers of the Seabear, at least his violence had been directed elsewhere. But now he spoke of sailors on his own ship, under his command, like they were nothing. A means to an end.

Pushing dark forces and otherworldly evils from his mind, Hongjoong tried to sleep again. His stomach was unsettled for a long time and his heart pounded in his ears until at last, he drifted off into dreams.

Morning filtered in through the windows quietly.

Hongjoong was hungry after missing the evening meal yesterday, and the smell of porridge left for him on Eden’s desk was inviting. He wasn’t sure who had made breakfast, but it tasted just about the same as usual and soothed the pain in his throat.

The small hand mirror was there in its drawer, so Hongjoong took it out to inspect the damage Babylon had done.

His cheek was bruised red from the force of the slap, and a small gash scratched the bridge of his nose where he’d been kicked, but most of the damage was concentrated to his neck where a blue handprint wrapped around his throat and the bandage over the knife gash was beginning to leak.

Lacing up his boots, he ventured out onto the deck where business seemed to be going on as usual until Youngsaeng noticed him from the helm.

“Hongjoong, can I get you anything?”

His voice was stronger than it had been before, so clearing his throat, he asked for water and a new bandage.

He insisted on dressing the wound himself and went to keep a lookout in the crow’s nest while the Master Rigger was at the helm for his forenoon watch, winning over Youngsaeng’s protests. He had rested long enough and he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep than he had.

It was windy up in the rigging, and clouds blew overhead, crossing the sun and occasionally casting shadows down on Hongjoong’s perch.

It was the same sky he and Mingi often admired from the beach at Panhang, but so much wider and full of possibilities. Every horizon promised adventure, some thrilling and some dangerous, and he was still in search of it, despite yesterday’s sour taste.

A sound from below alerted him to Eden climbing up to the crow’s nest from beneath, and Hongjoong wondered where he had been for the remainder of the night.

Perhaps in Babylon’s bunk while its owner enjoyed the hospitality of a prison cell.

He didn’t prod the captain with questions when he settled in beside him, gaze pointed ahead while they travelled southwest.

“We’re going to maroon him at the first opportunity,” Eden finally said quietly, informing Hongjoong of the decided punishment he already knew about.

“That doesn’t happen very often, does it?” He replied, hugging his legs and watching Eden’s face for a reaction.

“Typically only in a mutiny. But nothing about this week has been typical.” He glanced at his apprentice with his eyes shining full of regret. “I’m sure this has been a pretty poor trial of pirate life. I’ve always told you I can’t guarantee your safety, but for the threat to come from inside… that was a surprise to me too.”

Hongjoong smiled to assure him and pointed out softly, “It wasn’t all bad. Just this past week, really. And I’m already on the mend.”

He pointed to the bruises on his neck, already a shade lighter than they’d been before bed.

The tension in Eden’s jaw gave away his anger at the sight of pain Babylon had caused.

It was easy to see that he felt guilty over ever allowing his apprentice to become involved in the first place.

“Will you quit?”

Hongjoong immediately shook his head.

“No. I’m committed to this path.” He knew Eden wished more than ever now that he would quit. But the captain didn’t seem surprised when he refused to give up.

Things had gone wrong, but he had never expected life to become perfect. “There’s so much left to do and see,” he reminded Eden, who nodded reluctantly.

“Following the original plan, I would’ve stopped at the Mystic’s island,” he explained when Hongjoong clearly wanted to know about their future travels. “I’d still like to speak with her to learn more about this magic of Babylon’s, but I think it’s time to end this voyage and get you home. That’s the priority.”

Hongjoong sat back with a frown but didn’t protest. He knew there was no arguing with him about it. He’d simply have to enjoy the time he had left.

“I won’t stay there forever, you know.”

Eden glanced at him with a question in his eyes.

“Jangwon Hall, even Panhang,” Hongjoong clarified. “If Babylon escapes somehow, he might come looking for me. He made some comments before that led me to believe he knows a bit too much about my background. He’ll easily figure out where to look.”

Face growing red, and not from the heat of the sun but a tinge of embarrassment, the pirate rubbed the back of his neck and acknowledged his wrongs. As usual, the boy was able to get under his skin with very little noticeable effort.

“I’m sure he conducted some research of his own, but yes, I’ll admit I told the officers a bit about you. Bringing an apprentice on is highly unusual for me, and the circumstances were important to understand. I wouldn’t have said a thing if I hadn’t trusted them all completely. That’s a mistake I won’t make again.”

Hongjoong accepted this and squeezed Eden’s hand for encouragement. He was the Dread Pirate and he probably didn’t need it but what comfort he could give, Hongjoong was compelled to try.

“But you’ll need to replace him,” he remarked, voice soft from the roughness in his throat but also from his own hesitation to bring it up. “Won’t you hire a new surgeon and cook?”

Eden snorted and gave the boy a sideways glance. “You’re thinking of putting your name forward for consideration?”

Exaggerating his act of false modesty, Hongjoong suppressed a smile and said, “Well, I don’t think I have much skill in either of those positions, aside from emergency situations.” The captain barked out a laugh at this and, giggling, Hongjoong continued, “So no, I’ll have to go for something else instead.”

“Good, because you won’t be hired!” Eden exclaimed, yet again in awe of his apprentice. “I know you can’t cook.”

Hongjoong punched him lightly in the arm for the joke and faked a bruised ego for a minute before seeing something on the horizon.

“Is that… land?”

He squinted at the distant shadow, snatching the spyglass out of Eden’s hands before he could use it himself. “It is!” He gasped with excitement. He had sighted land himself, yet another rite of passage. “Land—”

Coughing though his sore throat, Hongjoong realised maybe he’d have to let Eden have this one. “You should probably call it,” he rasped, offering back the spyglass.

Eden took it back with a raised eyebrow and leaned over the side of the crow’s nest, yelling, “Land ho!”

He motioned for Hongjoong to follow him, and together the two descended to the main deck, ready to get on with the business of the day, however grim it may be.

Youngsaeng had heard his captain’s call and quickly sent for Jonghoon and Soomin, who conversed with Eden for a moment and, when they had approached the desert island to an acceptable distance, escorted Babylon to the deck.

Hongjoong avoided the sorcerer’s eyes, loitering near the mainmast and trying to blend in with the crowd. He didn’t want the traitor’s attention on him any longer than it already had been.

Silence fell over the seamen as they witnessed their officer being led outside, restrained.

Confirming their suspicions, Eden positioned himself on the steps to the quarterdeck and gave a speech of explanation.

“Here on the Stardust, we hold to the standards of the pirate code. Each and every one of the officers who serve on this ship, myself included, do so at the pleasure of her crew.”

Hongjoong caught a questioning glance from the Weathervane and returned it with a weak smile. He’d understand soon enough why Eden was emphasising the democratic nature of pirate government.

“As such, the act of murdering seven members of this crew, those we have sworn to protect, is an especially grievous crime,” the captain was going on to say. “After fruitless investigations, officer Lee Jongmin, cook and surgeon whom you all know well as Babylon, was caught in an attempt to kill an eighth victim and confessed to his crimes.”

Gasps went up all around at this revelation, something most of the men hadn’t known about until this moment. One of their own officers, a man whose hands they regularly put their lives in, had betrayed them all in cold blood. And from the looks of his smug face, had done so without remorse.

“Therefore in accordance with our laws at sea and in keeping with the severity of the crime, to respect the lives lost, Babylon is hereby sentenced to death by marooning without provisions,” Eden announced, turning to face the accused and adding quietly, “May your end be swift.”

With no further ceremony, he selected a group of men to help with the longboat and loaded the condemned for his final journey, with nothing more than a spellbook and the shirt on his back. They hurled curses at him as they did so on behalf of their fallen crew members.

Eden rowed by himself, quickly closing the distance between the Stardust and the island, and Babylon turned his back to him, facing the bit of land that would be his resting place.

Hongjoong wandered to the rail with the other curious pirates to get a measure of the area. The terrain was somewhat jagged, with cliffs jutting out above the beach and most of the vegetation growing much higher than the longboat’s landing point.

“He’ll die there,” Jihan said solemnly from beside him, eyes trained on Babylon’s distant figure as he stepped out of the boat and onto the sand. Eden neglected to hand him the customary pistol with a single bullet that was traditionally offered to all marooned pirates and instead gave him his book and set out once more to pull for the Stardust. “But we won’t get to watch.”

“Avast with that sort of talk, the boy is listening,” Minseob scolded the navigator, disapprovingly.

“He’s no ordinary boy,” Jihan defended, smiling brightly at Hongjoong despite the circumstances. “He’s a pirate now.”

Relief flowing through him, Hongjoong beamed back. The officers and the men around them were in agreement.

He belonged.

Over the next few weeks of travel northwest, back to Panhang by way of the archipelago, Hongjoong tried his best to adjust to working with the different crewmen who rotated cooking meals.

Eden had also been keeping a closer eye on him, and Hongjoong didn’t mind his increased presence. It made up for the lack of Babylon, a once regular staple of his typical day aboard.

Mostly thanks to the traitor’s actions, a net loss of nine men over the course of the journey— including the pirate who had fallen in the storm— necessitated a stop in the archipelago to recruit.

Sitting in the infirmary, a room which still sent chills down his spine, and letting the captain remove his bandages, Hongjoong wondered why Eden was also hiring a new cabin boy.

“Do you think I’m a bad pirate?” He asked, downcast despite how excellently his body had healed so far. The bruises were mostly faded and the scar from the dagger wound was a subtly pale pink that blended in, easily concealed by his shirt collar.

“I know you’ll be an excellent one,” Eden admitted patiently, inspecting the boy’s neck and deeming it cured. “That’s what scares me.”

Hongjoong sighed restlessly and kicked his feet back and forth where they hung off the edge of the table. “Then when will I be ready? For another voyage?”

His first expedition was ending too soon, and the thought of getting by without his new friends for however many months until they reappeared was not a happy one.

“You know the answer to that,” Eden chided casually while he went about his business, tidying up the mess he’d made of bandages and ointments. The sickbay area had essentially become communal in the weeks since Babylon’s departure.

“When I’m old enough to leave the Hall?” Hongjoong responded, deadpan. “That’s still a few years away. You’d best hope I don’t forget everything you’ve taught me by then… otherwise you’ll have to keep on that new cabin boy.”

Unable to resist ruffling his apprentice’s hair, Eden opened the door to show him out and quipped back, “Somehow I don’t think that’s possible.”

And so despite his protestations, after many days of high seas and many nights of lively singing, the shore of Panhang became visible once more on a mild night in early spring.

Hongjoong said his goodbyes to the other pirates in his berth and to the officers who had welcomed him so gently, promising to see them again.

Eden insisted they row a significant distance to keep the Stardust out of view, should anyone recognise it.

To Hongjoong it simply meant more time to take in the coastline and chat with Maddox.

“There they are,” he said, gesturing upwards with his head. His hands were busy holding the lantern that lit their way. “The stars I painted when we left the coast.”

“An excellent likeness,” Maddox praised, comparing the painted bag to the patch of sky they could see through sparse clouds.

Hongjoong shook his head in wonderment as he watched them come in and out of view. “So much has happened since I was here last.”

How could the time have flown by?

Eden finally spoke up between grunts as he pulled on the oars, “I’ll admit, I worried for you. The storm, encountering the Navy, Babylon’s betrayal… But you persevered and you’ll do just fine.”

Grinning at this admission, Hongjoong perked up.

“You think I can be a pirate captain myself?”

“Hold on now!” Eden protested, amused. “I mean you’ll do just fine as my cabin boy, don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

Hongjoong childishly put up a hand to halt the pirate’s excuses. “Can’t take it back now.”

Maddox laughed softly and gave his captain a light kick to the shins. “Well done, now you’ve put the idea in his head,” he teased.

Eden returned swiftly with a sarcastic remark, “Oh, it was in his head long before—”

Smile dropping from his face, Maddox shushed him and the mood suddenly darkened. “Hold on, stop the boat,” he cautioned. “Someone’s on the beach.”

A figure stood on the sand, jumping and waving his arms, having just run down from the lighthouse.

“Mingi…”

Maddox was confused.

“Who?”

“Song Mingi,” Hongjoong hurriedly explained. “I know him, he—he’s my friend.”

Captain and quartermaster glanced at each other in some sort of unspoken conversation, a serious air between them.

“He’s seen us,” Eden stated the obvious with a frown.

That was a problem.

Brows furrowed in thought, Hongjoong set the lantern down beside him and interjected, “Wait, let me handle this. I’ll think of something.”

When they’d pulled up almost to the breakers, he said a reluctant goodbye and shouldered his bag, diving into the water and immediately regretting it as the cold waves washed him towards shore.

He had done the best he could, so Hongjoong smiled awkwardly through chattering teeth and waded through shallower water to meet his friend.

Mingi was standoffish in his confusion, and it was all Hongjoong could do to reassure him and swear him to secrecy after letting slip in his indignation that Yonghwan was the one who encouraged him to go back on the water again.

Thankfully, when the pirates in their longboat set out for the Stardust again, he managed to procure a secret from Mingi about his nightly studying, making them even.

The pair sealed their deal with a handshake and invited some levity in the form of more mundane topics of conversation.

Hongjoong had missed Mingi, a fact he couldn’t deny even when it confronted him with their diverging paths.

When they reached the fork in the road, the younger boy would skip away in the direction of his home, the seaside cottage of Hongjoong’s childhood memories, and he would be left to trudge further up the hill to Jangwon Hall and pretend none of this had ever happened.

He’d just have to manage it, he decided while he took a detour to the top of the bluff to watch the Stardust fade into the night.

It had been terrifying at times, but it was an adventure, a peek into another world that offered him a brand new life.

The beauty of every day out there on the sea was so alluring. Brilliant sunsets on the Stardust, colourful fireworks over Coral Harbour, the gentle spray from the deep blue ocean.

What was life without some risk?

He knew firsthand that he had what it took to be a part of it all. So now he was left to bide his time, to close his current chapter. He would lead a secret life with expert duplicity.

The ocean was calling, and he intended to answer.

...

A/N: Wow when I tell you I cried?? I MEAN THAT! I last updated this work in 2021 I think which is inSANE... So much has happened, I finally got over my writer's block and ended my hiatus, you guys got back to back updates here on tumblr, and it was not a fluke guys. This chapter is not a fluke!! I'm not going to disappear because I've been planning this for years and there's so much more to come even in the last 4 chapters of this spinoff, let alone the rest of the series 😭 This chapter is, what, 17.5k??? And that's AFTER I split it??!! That should tell you all you need to know lol

A few quick notes: As always, I will recommend you read or re-read The Windy Road (Mingi's backstory) Chapter viii: Alone in conjunction with this and the next chapter of My Way, it'll make everything hit different, trust me. And if you want another punch to the feels, go read One to All Chapter 3: I Love My Desire and thereabouts for a refresher on that Babylon storyline if you've read the main series before coming here~

ANyway thanks so much if you're a reader who has stuck around and returned to this Treasure universe with me, it means sooo much more than you know, and if you're new, welcome aboard!! and I hope you decide to stay :) Don't forget to comment, reblog, all that good stuff to let me know what you thought and come scream with me about this story on twitter (I refuse to call it x) I know I have more to say, maybe you do too :,D

Thanks crew!!! See you soon <3

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#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #tokki writes #ateez au #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong #atiny writer #atiny author #writiny #hongjoong fanfic #ateez pirate king #ateez pirate au #ateez pirate fic #hongjoong #hongjoong fic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez theory #treasure series

[atinytokki]

hi, i hope you've been doing well! i'm just here again to say that i'm finally up to date on all of the treasure series and the spin-offs and ugh.... you still have yet to cease to amaze me. this entire world that you've created and the depth of the details of the story still stuns me to this day. i mean you've literally thought of everything. but anyways to keep my rambling to a minimum because i could literally go on and on for forever about Treasure.... it made me come up with an idea (that you totally don't have to do if you don't want to and i totally understand that you're very busy and the last thing i want to do is pressure you or make you feel inclined to do stuff) but because of the significance and importance that location and geography holds in this story i thought it would be SOO cool if you could like draw or make a map following the world that the story takes place in? or even a post with the names of the locations and their significance? i'm trying to stay up-to-date on what's happening geographic-wise but i'm slightly failing at doing so. but i hope you're healthy and happy and i'm so excited for the updates in the future no matter when they arrive, what's most important is your well-being. <3

(p.s. don't forget to take breaks, eat, and take care of yourself! :))

🐰: AHHH OMG I don’t know when this came in but I hope it wasn’t too long ago. So thrilled to hear you’re caught up with Treasure because I have indeed been doing well— especially creatively— and have an approximately 15k word My Way chapter to dump on all you lovely Treasure readers :DD

Funny you should mention maps and geographical information because I actually do have (and have had for some time) a rough draft version of the map that I occasionally add to but I don’t trust my art skills and so haven’t posted it anywhere lol but I am looking for a good website or digital mapmaking program of some kind that I can use to get it to look like I want and then hopefully get that up to help you guys out! I know you can only take so many “they sailed southwest” “the town was north” “the river flowed east through this and that town” before losing your sense of direction lol.

However! I do have something that will absolutely help and probably entail more reading (sorry not sorry) and that is linked here. It’s my admittedly work-in-progress Treasure encyclopaedia on carrd with locations, characters, and nautical terms that appear over the course of the 13 volumes and provide a lot of helpful context about the world that accidentally grew into this massive universe :) I wasn’t going to post it yet because it’s not quite finished but I don’t want to withhold it when so much is there. Just expect a few minor edits over time and possibly some bugs (most can be solved by refreshing the page I’ve found).

Let me know if you have any more suggestions and thanks so much for your dedication and support!!! MWAH <3!

#submission

[atinytokki]

Mechanosis

Chapter 2: 불 (fire)

불

fire

Music drifted through Gyeongseong Station at four in the morning.

Usually, San was awoken by the chiming clock, and would ready himself for work then sit and watch the sunrise while Hongjoong slept in, tired from a late night before.

Today, they were both roused earlier than expected by the sweet melody of a flute in the station below.

Separating himself from a grumbling Hongjoong, San peeked down towards the tracks to find the mysterious flute player.

A woman stood there with a basket in front of her to collect coins from passing strangers, and from the looks of it had amassed a small amount already in the business of the morning commute to various factories across Hanseong.

People were resilient in the face of new problems, and San watched her play with a soft smile on his face, even though he had nothing to share with her.

The click of boots on the tile floor drew his attention away, and at the end of the corridor he saw the station inspector, making a beeline for the musician.

Disappointed, San watched him approach her and confiscate both her instrument and her money basket, claiming in a loud voice that such public performances were illegal as ordered by the Ministry of Technological Advancement.

She was sent away, dejected, with a warning and San retreated to his hiding place, where Hongjoong had dressed for work and was waiting for him.

They didn’t speak on the walk to Namsan, keeping their heads down and moving at as quick a pace as they could with Hongjoong only having half his vision and trying not to be run over by any of the steam-powered palanquins, wooden carts, and sundry vehicles taking to the roads in the morning.

Namsan factory was strangely abuzz with chatter when they arrived, and the pair nudged their way to the front of the crowd to attempt to find out what they were all staring at.

As he glanced up at the massive overhead sign meant to display a comparison of their daily quota with the currently produced number of machine parts to track their progress, San began to understand why.

The number was over twice as high as usual. It was outrageous.

Never in a single day could he produce so much, let alone Hongjoong who struggled to use his peripheral vision.

As his gaze swept the room, San noticed a few additions to the machines they typically worked with. Finally, a supervisor came forward to demonstrate the usage of a number of brand new saw-type machines added to the assembly line since yesterday.

“You may have noticed your daily quota has increased,” he stated redundantly. No one dared answer him. “This is due to our great Innovator’s newest design— an automatic blade that drops by itself every thirty seconds. You must work faster to keep up, so as a result our production will increase exponentially.”

“There are no guards or tethers,” Hongjoong muttered to San as he inspected it from afar. “Nothing to prevent it from chopping your fingers clean off if you aren’t quick enough.”

San forced down a gulp at the prospect. He knew he’d have to handle the metal monster soon enough, as the blade did not retract automatically, but would need to be pushed back up into its natural position after each usage.

He spent the work day getting acquainted with it as quickly as possible to avoid being punished by the supervisors. Their demands were especially high today, and a salary cut or even being laid off was too dangerous for someone in his position.

“Hurry up, you idiot!” A man suddenly yelled from farther down the line.

It took a moment, but San realised it was the worker on the left side of Hongjoong, yelling at him for being too slow again. Thankfully, they’d been placed a little behind the automatic saw contraption and were busy labelling metal sheets, but a few had congregated in Hongjoong’s space and clogged up the line as he struggled to see the new materials San was handing over from his right unless he turned his head constantly.

Attempting to placate the man, Hongjoong gave a small bow of apology and explained, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know more had come, I couldn’t see—”

The worker didn’t care to hear his excuses.

“You can see fine!” He argued in an irritated tone of voice. “Why do you wear that bandage still anyway? It’s been years!”

Without any sort of permission or cause, the man pushed himself into Hongjoong’s space and ripped the bandage from his head aggressively to prove his point.

Anger spiking inside him, San put himself between the two, first checking that Hongjoong was alright where he curled in on himself and pressed his hands to the burn scar on his face in rigid embarrassment.

When he saw the moisture in his hyung’s eyes, both tear ducts still intact, San wasn’t afraid to get in the worker’s face to fight back.

“How dare you? You know nothing about him, you should back off—”

“What’s going on there?”

A supervisor’s sharp scolding interrupted and all three participants bowed their heads in apology, none answering.

“Who is responsible for this?” The man asked, annoyed. Before either could get a word in edgewise, the other worker pointed at Hongjoong, who was now on the floor feeling around for his bandage, wherever it had fallen.

“Come here,” the supervisor ordered him, giving only seconds to act before he hauled Hongjoong up, taking his face in a tight grip and turning it back and forth after wrenching his protective hands away.

San clenched a fist at his side but forced himself not to act. They could still make it out of this with a warning.

Still, he saw the way Hongjoong’s face burned with crimson shame. It didn’t matter whether his eye was “healed” or not, he clearly couldn’t see out of it and the wounded appearance being viewed by others was something upsetting to Hongjoong. Even San had only seen his eye a number of times, mostly accidental.

“You’re fine,” the supervisor announced curtly before dishing out punishment. “Leave this factory. You will be paid nothing for the day, return tomorrow and do not slack off again. If you cause another incident, you’ll be dismissed on the spot. Now you’ve been forewarned.”

Stiffly, Hongjoong bowed his thanks and removed his work apron, head down so his hair would cover his face from view. The room was so quiet, San could swear he could hear his hyung’s heartbeat.

As soon as the supervisor’s back was turned, San snatched up the bandage and reapplied it on Hongjoong’s face, walking him to the entrance where they could share a few brief words.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry, I wish I could do something,” he told him sincerely.

Even with his eye covered, Hongjoong still wouldn’t look at him.

“Everyone was watching, the whole factory,” he whispered through tightness in his throat. “It was humiliating.”

“Hyung—”

“And now you’ll have to work alone!” Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle. “I’m sorry I’m so useless, I promise I’ll use the time to buy you food or something.”

“You’re not useless,” San insisted, maintaining eye contact for as long as he could until Hongjoong shook his head and glanced away.

“I’ll pick you up after work?” The older changed the subject, clearing his throat to remove any building emotion. San sighed in response, as always.

“Yes, I’ll see you then.”

“Be safe,” Hongjoong warned. “Take breaks if they let you.”

And that was it. San didn’t see him for the rest of the work day.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t be paid double, he worked twice as hard to cover Hongjoong’s absence anyway, wary of the worker next to him causing another incident.

At the end of the day, they were all trying to collect their pay and make it home. This man was no different.

Famished and hacking up what felt like all the moisture in his lungs, San didn’t even realise when closing time came without a single break for rest or water and he had labelled hundreds of products until the line stopped running and the workers began to clock out.

Blinking his bleary eyes, he glanced at the exit to see Hongjoong waiting for him. San’s feet moved towards his hyung of their own accord and his body practically melted into him.

“I’ve got you,” Hongjoong whispered so only he could hear, and San put his arms around the older man’s neck and climbed onto his back for the walk home. His legs could hardly carry him anymore.

“‘M hungry,” he whined, knowing he sounded like that fourteen year old child he’d been when they met those years ago. “Did you get food?”

“It’s waiting back at the hideout, Sannie,” Hongjoong consoled him with a pat to the knee as he navigated the crowded evening streets in the direction of the station. Home. “Just hang in there a little longer.”

Even when he had been laid down on his sleeping mat and food had been spooned into his mouth, the constant harsh cough wouldn’t let him sleep.

Whimpering from the pain in his throat, San curled up and let Hongjoong pet him, pushing sweaty hair off his forehead and placing a wet cloth on it.

“Does that feel better, Sannie?”

Sannie.

Hongjoong only used the nickname when San wasn’t doing well. Tonight was one of those nights. Perhaps worse than it had ever been before.

“Mhm,” he hummed in agreement, trying to coax a smile from his anxious hyung, but it wasn’t enough.

He was still in pain and his body felt like it was on fire.

For what seemed like hours, he squirmed in bed, throwing the blankets on when a chill overtook him and then off again when the fever spiked and the blankets were suffocating.

“So hot,” he cried, knowing he sounded pathetic and not caring about it. Everything hurt so bad, and there was no end in sight.

“I know you are, Sannie,” Hongjoong murmured, chewing on his lip nervously. “I’m going to go fetch some medicine, alright? Is it okay if I go do that?”

“What?” San whispered hoarsely, trying to rise from the bed in a panic. “N-No, don’t leave me alone, hyung, please.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Hongjoong told him softly, gently removing his hand from where San was clutching him like a lifeline. “But I need to get something to bring your fever down and treat that horrible cough of yours. Don’t you want to sleep peacefully tonight?”

Tears filled San’s eyes. He did want to.

Peaceful sleep, uninterrupted by his torturous cough, sounded like a dream too good to be true. But he was afraid of closing his eyes and drifting away all alone. What if he couldn’t open them again? What if he died in his sleep right there and Hongjoong didn’t make it back in time?

Was he being abandoned right now?

“No, no, please,” San sobbed, outright crying now despite the spikes of pain in his throat every time he made noise. “You can’t leave me, we can’t afford medicine, I don’t want to die—”

Hongjoong shushed him reassuringly, hugging him close before laying him down again, leaving water and blankets in close reach. “You won’t die, San. You’re going to be fine, alright? I promise you.”

Lower lip trembling with the urge to sob aloud again, San nodded in acceptance of his promise.

If Hongjoong was promising, he meant it.

___

Yeosang tapped his fingernails against the counter idly. He was wrapping up his evening at the apothecary shop and neither Yunho nor his friend had made an appearance yet the entire day.

In fact, only a handful of people had made appearances at all and they were ministry officers, people Yeosang was wary of— and certainly not hoping to run into again.

There were days in his highly illegal career of ferrying traitors away from Joseon that had passed with much more thrill and exhilaration. Despite knowing those moments when he let his guard down were the most dangerous, Yeosang’s boredom couldn’t keep him awake, and he caught himself dozing off behind the desk three times before a customer entered and the chimes by the door alerted him.

“Hello? Could you help me?”

The raspy voice of the customer sounded, somewhat panicked, so Yeosang straightened his apron and flashed a reassuring smile. Years of pretending to be friendly for the yangban made it an easy habit to fall back on.

“Yes, what can I get for you?”

The man turned his head around and gave him a once-over, Yeosang returning the favour and taking stock of his visitor.

He looked to be about the same age, height on the shorter side, with dark, disheveled hair, and a curious bandage wrapped around his head, covering his right eye.

“Perhaps an ointment or optical treatment—” Yeosang commented, already reaching for the nearest shelf with eye cream.

“No, no, for my friend,” the customer panted, regaining his breath as he clearly must have run there. “His lungs are weak from the smoke and he’s worked himself to the point of sickness again.”

There was desperation written all over him, though he tried to rationally explain the symptoms.

“His cough is worse than usual, and he’s burning up with a terrible fever and these chills— he hasn’t been able to rest at all, he’s too uncomfortable— and I’m worried, please, tell me you have something for him.”

While Yeosang did have medicines stocked and was glad to sell them, he was painfully aware as he rifled through the supplies that he was no licensed apothecary and that his forays into chemistry didn’t typically involve experiments of a medical nature.

Most days, the shop was managed by an actual physician, one who would gladly step aside and take a day or two off when Yeosang needed access to his favourite central hub to keep an eye on someone.

“Well, there are a number of tonics here that could potentially bring down a fever,” he noted, trying to sound professional. Another chime from the door drew his gaze and immediately distracted him.

It was Yunho’s friend— the man who had reportedly been his servant before— entering the shop and idling near the skin treatments.

“Which is best?” The anxious customer asked, leaning over the front desk as if to see the vials Yeosang had in front of him. “I don’t care how expensive. I’ll give you everything I have, the clothes off my back if I have to.”

“Here,” Yeosang picked one at random and handed it to the man, not even glancing at the label. “Take this one. Go.”

“B-But how much is it?” He stuttered in surprise, turning the small bottle to find a price tag. From the way he blanched, it must have been expensive. “Won’t you ask me to pay?”

“No,” Yeosang practically hissed, eyes darting back and forth as he tracked the mysterious stranger across the room. He needed to speak with him, privately, and the interaction with this customer had gone on for too long. “It’s on the house, just take it for free. I trust you can see yourself out?”

“Yes, of course!” The man’s face brightened with gratitude and he pocketed the vial before heading for the exit, calling over his shoulder, “Thank you so much!”

Yeosang didn’t respond, eyes still on the tall stranger while the other customer left. Regardless of the number of times he had made contact with the important targets he spent so much time spying on, it was always slightly nerve wracking to initiate dangerous discussions with someone whom he may have misjudged.

Just as he was about to approach him and begin his investigation, the man moved towards the door and stopped in front of it suddenly.

The telltale sound of the lock clicking followed a moment later.

It seemed this man also desired a conversation alone with Yeosang. From the way his back tensed, it looked like he was poised to strike, and Yeosang found his fingers subconsciously moving towards the knives hidden under the desk.

Just as his hand wrapped around the handle, the stranger turned and launched himself over the desk, pinning Yeosang to the wall with a clockwork pistol to the forehead.

The knife in Yeosang’s hand was poised against the man’s neck, having been raised just in time to lock the two in an impasse.

“Who are you?” The stranger growled in a sonorously imposing voice.

Finally able to get a look at him now that he was so close, Yeosang noticed the intense glint in his small eyes, his sharp nose and the way his full lips were pressed together as he gritted his teeth. He looked seconds off from murder, and capable of it, too.

Yeosang decided to provoke him.

“What, you aren’t going to introduce yourself first? It seems only proper, seeing as you started the conversation.”

“Song Mingi,” he barked before leaning in closer, ever so subtly insecure that his intimidation wasn’t working.

“Jeong Yunho’s friend?” Yeosang confirmed, watching Mingi’s face tighten nearly imperceptibly at the name. “I’m Kang Yeosang. I only want to talk.”

“You’re a spy, aren’t you?” Mingi snapped back quickly, tilting his head almost mockingly. “Master Jeong put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Confusion clouded Yeosang’s mind for a moment before he realised what was going on, and answered calmly, “No, I don’t work for his father.”

The presence of the gun made itself known again, pushed harder into his temple as Mingi growled, “Then who?”

“Listen,” Yeosang huffed, lowering the knife and trying to squirm away. “If you’d let go of me, maybe I’ll explai—”

“Tell me who hired you!”

Yeosang froze as Mingi’s yell shook the apothecary shop. For a moment it was just  the sound of their breathing until Mingi realised he’d lost control of himself and took a small step back so Yeosang had room to lift his hands, palms out, between them.

“No one,” he explained slowly. “I work with a man they call the Mechanist. Not for him, with him.”

Mingi’s brow was furrowed in thought as he stared into space contemplatively. Clearly he hadn’t considered this as a possibility.

It gave Yeosang the space to slide out of his grip and return to his place behind the desk, hand falling on the knife again even while he faced the attacker standing behind him. Just in case.

“That’s why I needed to catch you alone in the shop,” he went on, as unthreateningly as possible. “So the spies tailing you wouldn’t be alerted.”

“Funny,” Mingi scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s why we kept returning to the shop. Because we thought you were one of them, and thought to smoke you out.”

“Well!” Yeosang laughed awkwardly, hoping it would loosen Mingi up. “What a coincidence.”

When finally the man holstered his weapon, Yeosang allowed himself a moment of jealousy.

Seonghwa always insisted they operate on a no-technology fighting style. No clockwork, no steam engines, just good old fashioned household items. And crossbows.

“That’s a nice pistol you’ve got there,” he commented dryly. “Where’d you get it?”

Mingi responded with a deadpan, “Where do you think? My former master was an entrepreneur.” He cut straight to the point a moment later, “What is it you want with us then?”

Just as eager to drop the small talk and finish business before real customers began to wonder why the door was locked, Yeosang passed over a letter he’d written and sealed with Seonghwa’s stamp.

“To beg the help of your friend, Yunho. We believe he may be aligned with our cause and serve as a great asset to it.”

“And what would he receive in return?” Mingi snorted, taking the paper and turning it over in his hands as if to inspect its exterior.

“He’s a detective, isn’t he?” Yeosang asked rhetorically with a growing smile. “Perhaps I have some useful information for him.”

___

The day San’s fever broke, Hongjoong wasn’t home.

All week since giving him the medicine, he worked in the factory by day and tended to his friend by night.

There was no time for sleep, and rarely any time for finding food.

Still, San’s health would not improve without it, so he stole away from his bedside when he got the chance and traded his wages for groceries.

It was one such evening that San opened his misty eyes to see the crisscrossing metal beams of the station ceiling, no longer delirious but alone, and realised his life had been saved.

Nonetheless, he was in a panic when Hongjoong returned with his arms full of supplies that night, only to be tackled in a hug that he couldn’t pry himself out of.

“I thought you had left me,” San whispered when finally Hongjoong dropped his things and hugged him properly, no longer too stunned to react.

“Never,” Hongjoong insisted just as fiercely.

“Did you heal me?” San hesitantly asked over their late evening meal, much more shyly than Hongjoong was used to from him.

“The medicine healed you,” scoffed Hongjoong, shaking his head in joyous disbelief. “I just kept you comfortable as best as I could.”

“Thank you,” San replied softly, with a wide smile. His dimples were on full display, and he ate his food so vigorously, it put Hongjoong’s mind at ease that he must have done well indeed.

“You feel better?”

“Much better!” San chirped with his mouth full. “I can come with you to the factory tomorrow, so you won’t have to work alone anymore. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“But that’s what got us into this mess,” Hongjoong pointed out in warning, shifting where he sat with his legs crossed to relieve some of the soreness of constant motion. “I don’t want… I don’t want to lose you again.”

It was vulnerable, much more vulnerable than he usually was, and San knew what it took for him to say such a thing.

“You won’t,” he promised, reaching out to squeeze his hyung’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

True to his word, the next day he departed for the factory alongside Hongjoong, and together they manned the new machines, positioning sheets of metal to be sliced in half by them.

The danger of operating such an invention was heightened by the lack of sleep, but Hongjoong did his best to keep his eyes open and trained on San when he could.

He hid it well, but he was still weak from the intense illness he had recently overcome. And he was always wearing those shirts that were too big for him.

Twice before the lunch break, he nearly got part of his sleeve chopped off, giving Hongjoong a near heart attack, but scolding him was no use. He didn’t have anything else to change into, and it was too cold to remove any clothing anyway.

At the end of the day, it finally happened.

The cuff of San’s dopo caught on the edge of the slicing area after he had reached across and then moved to pull his hand back.

He tried to wrench it free, but from his side of the machine it couldn’t be done without ripping the fabric.

“Hyung!” He cried, knowing the blade would descend any moment now. His dominant hand frustratingly gloved at the moment, Hongjoong quickly reached across with his left hand and attempted to wriggle it free, panic building in both of them as it ever so slowly gave way. It was taking too long.

Only seconds remained before the scheduled chopping, and feeling like he was moving in slow motion, Hongjoong finally freed the sleeve and pushed it back out the other side to remove San from harm’s way.

The blade dropped automatically just before he pulled his own hand clear, and a sickening crunch echoed through the factory.

Hongjoong’s heart stopped.

All around him, there was stillness. Like the entire world had frozen in place, with a great gasp going up from the other workers.

San rushed to force the blade up, and almost completely numb, Hongjoong tried to flex his fingers. He couldn’t move them. He couldn’t even feel them. There was no sense of anything below the wrist until the shock was overcome by pain.

Consuming, overwhelming pain.

“Oh, oh no…”

His throat was closing in on itself from the panic as he watched blood pour continuously out of his hand. Where his hand used to be.

It was like a fountain spurting red in pulses with every heartbeat, and he watched in morbid fascination, slowly becoming nauseated by it.

“Sannie, I can’t… my hand…” he muttered through the haze in his brain, weightlessness descending on him. It was so hot, he was choking on the fire that spread from his wrist to the rest of his body.

Hongjoong blinked and suddenly he was on the floor. His legs had given out, and there was a wetness on his face.

Tears. He was crying.

“San?”

Where was San? He was too dizzy to recognise anyone in the surrounding crowd, everyone’s face a blur.

All over again, Hongjoong felt like a child.

Scared and alone on a factory floor, and his parents were dead and no one would help him, and blood was everywhere and it was so much, so much blood—

“Hyung! Hyung, I’m here, please stay awake.”

San’s voice.

Hongjoong wrenched his eye open, unsure when it had closed, and turned his head until San came into view.

He looked scared, more scared than Hongjoong had ever seen him even when he was deathly ill, and it caused chilling dread to take root in his stomach.

“Is it bad?” He whispered, though he wasn’t sure if the words came out.

San seemed to tell from the movement of his lips and checked the stump of flesh that remained of Hongjoong’s hand, pressing his own shirt to it tightly. Immediately, it was soaked through with deep red.

“It’s… I don’t want to lie to you, hyung, it looks bad, but I’m sure you’ll be alright!” San forced a smile, but he was crying now too, and turned to yell at the gathered crowd of factory workers, continuing to add fabrics to cover the wound, from his own dopo to Hongjoong’s durumagi.

“Don’t just stand there, all of you! Someone help, please! Call the authorities or a doctor or something, someone—”

No one moved an inch.

“What’s going on over there?” A supervisor barked from behind the mass of faces. “Get back to work!”

Hongjoong tried to obey, he’d already been issued a warning once, but couldn’t bring himself to stand. His life was draining at the site of his severed hand and he knew he didn’t have long from the way his breaths were quickening.

“He’ll die, I’m begging you!“ San sobbed, more terrified than Hongjoong had ever seen him.

He was the cause of that panic.

“I’m sorry.”

He wouldn’t be there to take care of San anymore. This was all because he wanted to keep San safe from harm, but he’d been too slow yet again and now he was paying for it with his life and San would be alone after everything he’d done to bring Hongjoong in, abandoned by the only family he’d ever found.

San faced him again with a tear-streaked face and shook his head. “No, don’t say that, you’re going to be fine, you’ll see!” He was clutching the wounded wrist to the sopping material of his jeogori now in one hand and stroking Hongjoong’s wet face with the other, bloodstained hand. He could feel it smear over his cheek and the scent of it became overwhelming. “Don’t… don’t leave me now, alright? Promise?”

Exhaustion was washing over Hongjoong in the wake of white hot pain. He knew he would die soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight it.

His eye was growing increasingly vacant. He wanted to answer, but his lips didn’t move. The words worked their way up.

“I tried.”

He didn’t promise.

___

The air outside smelled like rain. It drifted in through an open window, distracting Hongjoong where he sat with his bags in the main room.

He frowned in worry as his parents handed him scroll after scroll to pack up. “Why are you giving me this?”

“In case something happens and we…” Mother stumbled over the words as she rolled the blueprints tightly and bundled them together. “…and we get separated. You can wait for us with the designs.”

Hongjoong protested weakly, “But, hyung—”

“Only has the key,” Father broke in, his voice extremely calm despite the way his hands fidgeted. It was the nervous sort of fidgeting, not the idle kind. “Hongjoong, your bag.”

Obediently, Hongjoong handed it over and tried to swallow down the uneasiness in his throat.

His parents were stuffing it full of blueprints of their designs, and although they didn’t explain why they were packing up their life’s work, the torches on the horizon were enough for Hongjoong to put two and two together.

He remembered the day, months before, when Beomjoong had put his own things into a sack and boarded a ferry that took him out of Joseon, never to return. Hongjoong had cried and clung to him the entire time on the wagon ride to the port, begging him not to go.

The entire thing had never been his choice but their parents’ decision, and Hongjoong resented them for it a little even now as they all prepared to follow him out of the country. To where, he had no idea.

He was fifteen now, and he understood why they couldn’t stay here any longer. He also understood why they had tried.

The Kims were a uniquely creative family of geniuses. The methods of harnessing steam power which they had devised were especially attractive to government ministries, and no matter how many times they said no, no matter how many times Hongjoong answered the door and politely informed the gentlemen that his parents weren’t interested in selling them, the officials returned and insisted.

It had led to their sending Beomjoong somewhere safer with the key to their most important design, an invention never built but often dreamed of, a key that could be used one day if such a machine was ever constructed.

But it could not be taken by the Ministry. In their hands, it would be a most fearsome weapon.

Knowing the key was safely elsewhere only took some of the load off their minds, with many designs still strewn about the house and an entire company of soldiers on their way.

“Quickly, son, your durumagi,” Mother fussed, fastening the coat as tightly as she could, worrying her lip between her teeth the entire time.

There was no reason for Hongjoong’s parents to hide their anxiety from him when he was old enough to know what was headed for their family.

The future was quite literally knocking on their door, and it would stop for no one.

“Head through the back and we’ll meet you near the wagons, alright?” Father instructed, helping him shoulder his bag properly before peeking through the paper blinds to see a large congregation of torch bearers outside.

“Please come soon,” Hongjoong whispered from the threshold, ashamed of his own fear when his parents turned to the door with such bravery. “You won’t leave me alone, right?”

They turned to look at him and smiled, shooing him out the back door.

Mother sounded so sure of herself.

“We’ll be right behind you.”

Hongjoong only made it down to the end of the road before seeing the smoke go up from his house.

His parents hadn’t followed as they said they would, and he knew the odds were greatly against them.

The waiting wagons were another ten minutes away, and he was still the only one on the road.

Mother and Father weren’t coming. They were stuck in a burning house, Hongjoong just knew it, and he knew they were throwing their lives away for no reason.

The remote possibility flashed across his mind as he stood there, frozen in the middle of the road, that this was all a trap. That the ministers wanted him to charge in and save them, so they could get the blueprints in their clutches again.

But Hongjoong wasn’t a child anymore. He could sneak in and save his parents without anyone knowing, he was sure of it.

And so he sprinted impulsively for home, one last time, thinking he could make a difference with his newfound bravery.

The smoke was billowing at a tremendous speed into the evening air, and the heat was so intense that Hongjoong could feel it from the other side of the stone wall, but he scaled it as easily as he had since he was a little boy and crawled into the house silently, holding his breath with practiced ease.

It was a nightmare.

Furniture was knocked over, trinkets and models were strewn across the floor, and the wooden frame of the house itself was on fire, consumed with a roaring blaze that climbed up curtains and licked away at the ceiling.

“Mother! Father!” Hongjoong cried out over the noise of the destruction. They were nowhere to be seen.

Hoping he could find them in another room and free them in time, he dragged himself along the floor, avoiding burning papers and dishes and making a beeline for the side rooms.

Tears pricked at his eyes from the thickness of the smoke, but he tried to remain calm while holding his breath, knowing if he inhaled it, he was as good as dead.

Suddenly, hands were wrapping around his midsection, lifting him upwards as if he weighed nothing and wrenching the bag from him.

“No!” He screamed, kicking blindly at his attacker, who dropped him face first to the ground and disappeared.

Hongjoong never even saw his face.

Feeling the flames encroaching, he realised his options were few. His parents may yet be somewhere inside, though the chances were growing slim by the second, and now he had to recover the designs from the man who had grabbed him, a man much bigger and stronger than he.

“Please…” he couldn’t keep a sniffle from escaping him as the terror of his situation descended on him.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly and utterly alone.

“Someone help!”

He knew there was no use in yelling. Any neighbours who cared to assist them would have done so by now, or else retreated to somewhere safer with their own valuable belongings.

Managing to stumble again to the back door, Hongjoong called out again, a yell that hardly sounded intelligible, and reached for the small patch of sky he could see through the haze of smoke.

At that moment, the doorframe collapsed, sparks went flying, and all Hongjoong knew was a searing pain in his eye before he was writhing on the ground.

His hands were pressed to his face, blood dripped through his fingers, and he was trapped now with no way out.

Elsewhere in the burning house, his parents breathed their last.

They had died so Hongjoong could escape. And he had brought their designs right into the lap of the Ministry.

Guilt that stung more than the pain of his wound burned through him and Hongjoong surrendered, a sobbing mess on the floor, to whatever fate had next for him.

He did not expect to wake.

___

Taglist: @p4rk-junhee

A/N: Things are ramping up now! Hopefully you’ll stick around as our characters continue to be slowly introduced :D let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist and what you thought of this chapter in the comments! And stay tuned for more updates on various works because it's starting to look like I've finally killed my writer's block!!!

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#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #tokki writes #ateez au #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #mechanosis #joseon era #steampunk au

[atinytokki]

Mechanosis

Chapter 1: 구름 (cloud)

구름

cloud

The future looked different through a cracked glass pane. Only two people in the entirety of Gyeongseong Station knew there was a crack on the inside pane of the seven metre clock face that adorned the iconic tower, and Hongjoong was one of them.

He spent most nights alone with a view of the city far below, twinkling lights almost seeming magical through the blanket of haze that coated everything east of Incheon. And most nights, he knew better than to dream.

The past, too, had a strange new colour streaked across it, and the filter of glass clock face windows, like thin hanji mulberry paper, revealed things Hongjoong hadn’t seen five years ago. Things he couldn’t have known.

Accompanied by the constant whirring and clicking of gears, he watched rain trail down the glass with his single working eye, following a drop and tracing it with his finger until it slid off the clock face and out of view.

He had put his tinkering away an hour ago, but too many things were keeping him awake. The constant thoughts, plans, and anxiety. The rain. San’s coughing.

The pair of them worked sunrise to sunset in the Namsan metal factory every day, retreating for the night to their secret hideaway in the clock tower, and these late hours were the only moments he could steal for himself.

If Hongjoong turned to look out the eastern facing windows in the tower, he’d see the factory there; carved into the side of the mountain and constantly belching a steady stream of smoke into the surrounding forest.

It was good money— as good as pay could be these days— but it was also the culprit of San’s cough. Both of them knew it.

For now, it was mercifully raining. In a matter of weeks, it would be snowing. And when the snows came, their days would be difficult again. San always grew sicker when winter arrived.

Five years ago, Hongjoong would’ve looked forward to the snow, and the way it gathered on bare tree branches outside in his courtyard in perfect little snow walls that stood upright until he ran a mittened hand across their surface and knocked them down. Now, the snow should be a gift— freedom from the curse of ash that had befallen Hanseong— but all it did was signal the upcoming darkness and the increased chance of death.

He closed his eyes, the burned right one with more difficulty, and inhaled deeply before his thoughts could spiral, pulling his legs close to his chest. The bottom edges of each pant leg of his baji were fraying, so he picked at them mindlessly and waited for exhaustion to set in.

A mumble sounded from the direction of the sleeping mats, set in the middle of the uppermost terrace with the best view below to catch any intruder who should attempt to sneak up the stairs.

San’s sleep-talking no doubt.

“Come to bed.”

Hongjoong turned his head to the left to see him. So, the younger man was coherent after all.

He was sitting up with the blanket draped over him, hair ruffled from tossing and turning.

Hongjoong hesitated and it brought a childish pout to San’s face.

“Please? I want to snuggle.”

Watching him bat his eyelashes, Hongjoong would never have guessed San had spent nearly all of his nineteen years growing up on the streets, wondering where the next meal would come from and inventing creative ways to get by on his own.

Even around a complete stranger, his softness and innocence had always remained.

Hongjoong remembered the day he met him, on a rainy night at Mount Inwang when he opened his single eye to see the ceiling of a shrine room.

A shaman had appeared above him weeks before and softly explained that he was the sole survivor of the fire, that he had been brought to the temple in secret to hide from the new authorities, that his eye was bandaged but would likely not heal, and that he was free to go where he pleased or remain in Suseongdong Valley if he wished.

The news had been beyond devastating. His entire life had burned down around him and he had no desire to go on. He had lost everything.

The shaman’s kindness never wavered, even when he would not rise from his mat on the floor to thank her. Others came and went, their shadows moving across the floor, turning like the sun through each long and lonely day. Sometimes the surrounding sleeping mats filled with other patients, more and more growing sickly as the chill of winter moved through the mountain peaks.

“I’ve brought you supper,” a voice broke into his spiralling thoughts that evening at the moment when the smell of samgyetang reached him. “You have a neighbour for tonight, his name is San.” It was one of the monks informing Hongjoong, as if he would care, and though he didn’t turn his head to see, the noise of a boy being guided to the mat next to his went on for a few minutes after.

Some time went by in silence. How much time, Hongjoong didn’t know, but night had fallen at least an hour ago and after dozing, he was hungry, despite himself.

Turning his head all the way to the right so he could see through his left eye, he was met with the shocked face of his neighbour, cheeks full of Hongjoong’s food.

“O-Oh!” The boy choked out, hurriedly swallowing and placing the bowl back on the floor. “I didn’t realise you were awake. Your eye bandage…”

When Hongjoong didn’t reply, the boy— San— shamelessly picked up the food again before hesitating.

“You weren’t planning on eating this, right?”

Taken aback, Hongjoong blinked a few times before shaking his head in agreement. It didn’t matter if his stomach was grumbling now, he had lost his chance.

“It’s good!” The boy exclaimed through another bite as he spooned the last vegetables into his mouth, much louder than he should be considering the late hour and the other sleeping patients. “Even though it’s cold.”

With that, he flashed a dimpled smile, downed the last of the broth and set the bowl back on the floor before standing from his bed and heading for the exit.

“Wh—” Hoarse from disuse, Hongjoong’s voice didn’t reach the patient, so he sat up and called more loudly, head spinning from the sudden adjustment, and tried to recall the name, “San? San!”

The mountain, who he met in the valley.

Surprised, the boy turned, bright eyes landing on Hongjoong’s form, and cocked his head to the side like a cat. “That’s me. What is it?”

“You…” Hongjoong sighed and cleared his throat, and San moved closer to hear what he had to say. “You’re leaving already? Are you even sick or did just you come for the food?”

At this observation, San smirked and gave a half shrug before continuing on his way.

Hongjoong didn’t see him again until two days later.

Again, the boy was given the sleeping mat next to his, and again he waited until Hongjoong drifted to sleep to eat both his own meal and the food designated for Hongjoong as if it belonged to him.

“Come on, you should eat some of this,” San tutted at him, the sound of him clicking his tongue just barely audible over the wind that whipped through Suseongdong. It was the seventh night now that he had appeared and helped himself to the shamans’ cooking, occasionally starting conversations that rarely went anywhere, as if determined to heal Hongjoong with his words even while he took his food every evening. “Look at you, you’re wasting away. Why do you refuse to eat? Do you think it will bring back whatever it is you lost?”

Biting his lip anxiously, Hongjoong merely shook his head.

He was still in mourning. And he had no appetite.

A growling stomach gave him away and, frustrated, he couldn’t stop a tear from escaping.

San noticed and placed down the bowl, regarding him seriously with no trace of his usual teasing.

“Would you like a hug?”

Sighing through his nose and squeezing his eye shut, Hongjoong tried to say no, but San was too fast and it only took a moment for him to be encased in his arms, squeezed gently but reassuringly, and then released again so the other boy could finish his kimchi.

It felt… nice.

And it was the sign he needed that life would go on, whether he wanted it to at the moment or not.

The season continued on, with snows blowing in from the west, and the mysterious boy continued his occasional visits.

Hongjoong always let him eat the second bowl or dip into to his banchan, because he knew San’s hunger must be severe for him to take food from another. He needed it more than Hongjoong did, when he could survive off of luncheon and this single meal was likely the only one of the day— or week— for San.

And, as expected, San always cleaned the plate.

The day he didn’t, Hongjoong knew something was wrong.

“You’re sick this time, aren’t you?” He whispered.

He didn’t lay on his back anymore, facing the patterned ceiling and letting tears wind down the sides of his cheeks. Instead, he faced San’s bed, watching him closely with his left eye.

San frowned from where he sat by Hongjoong’s mat, cross-legged.

“I do get sick, but this—”

Interrupted by his own cough, the harsh fit went on for a moment before he nodded, fully laying on his mat this time, turned in Hongjoong’s direction.

“This is worse than usual. I think it’s that factory they’re building next to my hideout.”

“Wh-What?” Hongjoong was surprised to hear those words. A factory so close to the city was strange, when most large mills were located in the countryside.

Unless…

“It’s this new steam-powered factory,” San explained slowly in his rasp, as if it was obvious and Hongjoong should’ve known despite not leaving the shrine in weeks. “They’re popping up all over Hanseong, burning ore to heat water and run the steam through this… machinery. That’s what they call it.”

Hongjoong’s head was reeling. It was as if the world had changed overnight. In a matter of weeks, things he had only seen on paper by candlelight existed. And they were multiplying.

“How?”

“A Mr. Shin is responsible, Minister of Technological Advancement he calls himself,” San sniffed in derision, not appearing to like the man, or at least what he knew of him. “The very night he was appointed, he had the plans set in motion, workers conscripted, and new authorities established. It’s all his design.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The words escaped Hongjoong so quickly, even he was surprised.

But it was true.

He had been there when the concept of steam-powered machinery was dreamt up in a crowded kitchen while the smoke trailed up to the sky on a starry summer’s night years ago. He knew whose design it was first scribbled on corners of worn parchment, ink staining the clothes and hands of the one who made it.

San was staring at him like he’d grown a second head, and patiently waiting for the right moment to ask a question he must have been meaning to ask for a long time.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name,” San whispered urgently. “What is it? Who are you?”

He seemed sincere, and the cavernous pit of loneliness inside made Hongjoong yearn for companionship, but his name was all he had left now.

Could he really give it up so easily?

“I—” Hongjoong’s mouth ran dry. He simply needed to know San’s intentions first.

“I’ve decided I like you,” San supplied soon enough. “You’re kindhearted, and I want to keep you.”

Hongjoong furrowed his brows. “But I haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly,” San smiled sweetly but with some sadness under those innocent dimples. “You let me take without question. Most others would’ve accused me of stealing.”

So San had interpreted his indifference as kindness.

“You don’t want me,” Hongjoong shook his head, trying his best to sound sure of himself. “I have nothing else to give you.”

He knew he was about to give up the last thing he did have, he could feel himself losing the inner battle.

“I just want your name for now,” San assured him softly. “And then let me give you something for a change.”

He said it was just a name, but the truth was that it was so much more. What he had experienced and what San was experiencing were both tied up in that identity and to give it away would not help San. In fact, it may condemn him.

Eyes watering embarrassingly, the half-blinded boy squirmed in place before giving up.

“I’m Kim Hongjoong. I’m fifteen years old. I’m here because the Ministry of Technological Advancement set a fire two months ago that killed my parents and burned my eye. I know it was them because it was my family who created those designs— the ones for the machines— and now that the Ministry murdered the creators and stole the research, they perverted it. In a way, due to my inability to stop them, I am the one responsible for your sickness, San.” He paused to let the truth sink in.

Hongjoong could scarcely believe it himself, but this was the new world he’d woken up to.

“Are you sure you still want me?”

___

San had not hesitated even a moment, and from that day on, the two were brothers.

A tower was under construction at Gyeongseong Station, and quickly adorned with a massive clock face, run on the interlocking mechanism conceptualised by Hongjoong’s own mother and based on the tiny test models Hongjoong’s father had constructed himself.

It was San’s hiding place when he didn’t trek up the mountain to receive medicine at the shrine. He had always been a poor orphan for as long as he could remember, but the cost of living was unbearable now, and so he taught himself how to escape the notice of the station guards, and then taught Hongjoong in turn.

They lived there together now, five years later, and worked at the nearby factory begrudgingly, knowing there were very few options to get by, no matter how much former education Hongjoong had. Machinery was the way of the world now, and if they didn’t offer themselves up to be cogs in the machine, they’d end up playing that role one way or another.

Hongjoong had his habits, San admitted, such as getting in trouble at the factory for working too slowly and staying up late at night to tinker with the strange metal pieces he sourced from who knows where, but he was already dear to San. San’s heart had made the decision for him.

And he was never more sure of his decision than during times like these, when he lay coughing until blood came up in crimson specks on his handkerchief, and the pain in his chest kept him from sleeping.

Hongjoong acquiesced to San’s pleas for cuddles, and pulled the younger boy close with the hopes of lulling him to sleep. Instead, both lay awake for a while longer, unable to escape from the crossroads they knew they were approaching the sicker San became.

“The factory hurts you,” Hongjoong sighed into San’s hair.

San didn’t answer. Tears pricked at his eyes, watering from the force of his cough and partially from the frustration.

“I don’t want you to work there anymore,” Hongjoong told him softly. He’d said as much many times before, but both of them knew there was no turning away from the factory. Not in these times.

Again, San remained silent, shaking his head resolutely but remaining securely tucked in between Hongjoong’s arms.

“Please, San,” Hongjoong whined. San had never heard him beg like this before. “You’re scaring me.”

“Hyung, you—” a coughing fit interrupted him, and the force of his cough jolted them both. Hongjoong clung on anyway. “You know I can’t quit. It’s good money.”

“But you can find somewhere better to work,” Hongjoong insisted immediately, voice dripping with desperation. No matter how many times he thought it through, the situation was unbearable. “And if the money’s so good, I can pick up extra shifts instead since I won’t be busy nursing you back to health every winter.”

But it ended the way it always did. Ultimately, San persevered as he always had.

“No.” It came out harsher than he intended it to. “I’m going and there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Hongjoong went quiet for just long enough that San could tell he was angry.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, rubbing Hongjoong’s arm appreciatively. “Please, hyung, I really am. I love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

Hongjoong’s voice was softly admonishing.

A pout found San’s face again. “Why not?”

He used the words all the time, relishing in the opportunity to direct them at someone after all those years alone.

The silence stretched on between them and San tilted his head up to see tears in his hyung’s eye.

“You love too easily,” he finally answered, so quietly that San almost missed it.

He bristled at the accusation, regardless of how gently it had been delivered.

“But I mean it, Hongjoong,” San insisted, shifting to encourage the older boy to look at him. He spoke with as much conviction as he could despite the stabs of pain in his throat with every word he said. “I love you and I’m not leaving you. So you can’t leave me either.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond, but San knew he had heard him from the way he squeezed his eye shut. The right one was still covered in bandages. Whether he ever took them off to inspect the burned eye or not, San didn’t know.

San had seen from the beginning that Hongjoong didn’t think himself worthy of a second chance at family.

But family was the one thing San never had yet truly wanted. He needed to do everything in his power to secure a family for himself, one he truly loved regardless of their flaws.

“Did someone leave you behind?” He found himself conjecturing aloud. “Is that why…”

San’s words trailed off but his question hung in the air.

Hongjoong knew what he meant to ask.

Is that why you’re like this?

Another silence settled over them, not uncomfortable this time. San had tried and failed to wheedle the details out many times, but he understood the defences Hongjoong kept around his story.

He had the same walls around his own, no matter how talkative he could be about other things.

Finally, Hongjoong opened his mouth, closed it again, and then acquiesced and released a small key to the past.

“I had a brother.”

San stared at him for a moment, directly into his eye, before asking for clarification.

“Had?”

“He got out before the fire.”

San could feel Hongjoong’s shrug as it shifted their position on the floor mat. “I think my parents knew what was coming— there were whispers. They gave him the key to some of their designs and got him out of the country. I never saw him again. And it was all for naught, because the Ministry of Technological Advancement got hold of the plans anyway.”

Stunned, San worked through the information inside his own head for a moment.

“You think he’s alive?”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong whispered. “I hope so… but he’s never returned for me. Perhaps he thinks I died in the fire, too.”

Suddenly it all made sense to San and he needed to gulp back tears at the memory it sparked inside him. He understood the fear of abandonment. He knew abandonment all too well.

“Leaving me before I leave you won’t make things any better,” San reminded him fiercely. They both knew that whether he said so or not, Hongjoong had grown attached.

That was what San was counting on.

“And besides, I’m not leaving you anyway.”

___

The wind that rustled bamboo leaves was colder than it had been last week.

Seonghwa could see the stalks swaying in the breeze from his table, and hurried to close the window and warm himself with some soybean jochi stew.

Most days, he got what he came to Ahopsan forest for; peace, quiet, and stillness.

But today the wind blew his wooden shutters open again and again, until he fetched his dopo and went outside to reinforce the latch.

The shadows on the surrounding forest floor came and went with the flickering light as it filtered through the canopy. Two layers of clouds blew quickly overhead, large puffy cumulus clouds with dark grey undersides, indicating a growing storm, and the wispy remnants of smog from Busan’s factories encroaching on his territory.

Its shape was always changing, morphing with every twist and turn as it was pushed onwards, pushed like the rest of Joseon when progress drove people away from their lives.

People like Seonghwa.

He had run as far as he was able, and still the smoke of the city chased him and interrupted his peace.

It wouldn’t be long before he needed to flee yet again.

Washing the dishes with a close watch on the sky, Seonghwa almost didn’t notice the footsteps leading up to his door.

Jolted from his reverie, he instinctively grabbed the crossbow by the entryway before bracing himself against the door, peeking through a gap in the paper cover to see who was calling in such a remote place at an hour like this.

“Hyung, it’s me,” Yeosang’s voice resonated deeply but with a light tone to it, and Seonghwa released his weapon and opened the door, shoulders still tense.

The two need not exchange words, and together they ventured into the main room and settled on the floor. Seonghwa poured his guest some tea and merely stared at his own, too anxious about the report he was waiting for to actually drink any.

“Will he get us out?”

Finally he couldn’t keep his anticipation inside anymore.

Yeosang snorted into his tea before composing himself and lowering the cup. “Seonghwa, I haven’t even spoken to him yet.”

“Right, right,” Seonghwa trailed off, wiping sweaty hands on his baji. “But you observed him these past few days?”

Yeosang rooted around in his bag for a moment before procuring a paper. “I drew this sketch when he visited the apothecary shop earlier in the week.”

Seonghwa took it promptly with both hands and gave the drawing a careful once over.

Jeong Yunho.

His cheekbones and nose were wide and striking, his mouth naturally rested in a smile, and his eyes were kind even if his face seemed tense. The clothes Yeosang had drawn him in were undoubtedly that of the yangban.

He was the son of Joseon’s foremost steam engine railway entrepreneur, and just so happened to do detective work.

Ever since he and Seonghwa had left their posts with the government, it was Yeosang’s job while he worked undercover in Hanseong to connect powerful people like Yunho to causes that weren’t exactly supported by the Ministry of Technological Advancement.

Seonghwa’s escape from Joseon was one of them.

The Jeong family were known supporters of the Ministry’s new order, but Yeosang was confident this Yunho would willingly help them if approached anyway.

“And there’s something else important,” Yeosang pulled his attention away from the illustration and related his latest report. “He came in again yesterday and brought another man with him. I recognised him from the festivals I’ve been tailing Yunho at. He’s one of the Jeong family servants— or, he was. He walks with Yunho-ssi now… as an equal.”

Seonghwa sat back slowly, deep in thought.

This was unprecedented.

That a rich nobleman would allow his servant the dress and status of a fellow noble wasn’t only unheard of, it was laughable. It was fantasy.

But if this Yunho diverged so sharply from his family’s views on servitude, there was a high chance he diverged from their views on the Ministry as well.

And that was the kind of person Seonghwa needed.

“How soon can you approach him?”

Yeosang went for another sip of tea while he thought things through.

“It wouldn’t be wise to arrange a meeting. He’s watched very closely by his father and the Ministry. Those moments in the apothecary shop are the only ones I have.”

“You must speak with him, Yeosang. If the smog has reached the forest, the machines won’t be far behind. We have to get out before they hunt us down.”

He knew he sounded desperate, but Seonghwa couldn’t help himself. If he relaxed, even for a moment, he could find himself trapped under the Ministry’s again, run over by the very steam-powered train engines he had planned and met with manufacturers for.

Biting his lip and avoiding Seonghwa’s eyes, Yeosang carefully voiced his reservations.

“Hyung, I don’t know.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but frown. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

This was a matter of life and death, after all.

“I don’t think I should come with you,” Yeosang sighed, tension in his forehead and worry in his eyes. “There’s still work to be done here, others to help escape.”

The regret in his voice tugged at Seonghwa’s heartstrings.

He wasn’t attached, he told himself. No, he wasn’t bound to Yeosang despite fleeing the Ministry together and he wasn’t lonely in his tiny cabin while he waited for a boat ride away from this country.

But no matter how much he repeated it to himself, he knew in his heart that he couldn’t leave if Yeosang was staying.

“Oh.”

Suddenly his mouth was dry.

“Well, what do you think you’ll do here?”

An easy smile grew on Yeosang’s face, and Seonghwa found himself releasing his breath at the sight of it.

“I already see what’s happening throughout Hanseong from the apothecary shop,” he pointed out, chattering away like he only did when it was a subject he cared about immensely. “And it would be an excellent outpost to hide and then transport others who may be hunted by the new authorities for labor violations or association with the underground.”

“You’re saying… you want to become part of the underground yourself?” Seonghwa followed the logic to its natural conclusion.

Ever since the Ministry of Technological Advancement had absorbed the other main offices at the palace and instituted strict rules and insufferable working conditions, an underground network of rebellious citizens had quietly begun to form.

Seonghwa had heard whispers of them once or twice, but as far as he knew had never been involved with them.

They were a shadowy group with eyes everywhere, so it was difficult to know whether he’d encountered their members or not.

“Well,” Yeosang scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I don’t intend to join a revolution, but times are hard. So many people are barred from escaping. If I can make a difference in saving lives and making one less machine operate, I’ll gladly do so.”

Seonghwa found his eyes to be welling up and glanced away.

It wasn’t that he was sad to be sent away alone. It wasn’t even that he might be separating from a colleague he’d known since their university days. It was his pride in Yeosang, that he’d found a perfect way to serve a cause that was important to him, honestly to them both.

“Are you alright, hyung?” Yeosang sounded surprised, so Seonghwa wiped his eyes quickly and shot him a reassuring smile.

“Just happy for you,” the older admitted, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “You should consider joining me one day when it’s your turn to escape the Ministry. Any suspicious activity will put a sure target on your back, and you don’t want to end up in a factory.”

Seonghwa didn’t mean it lightly.

For years he had studied obliviously, thrilled to be a part of the technology team helping to bring Joseon to the future with better, more efficient steam-powered devices.

Until one day when he had witnessed the horror of the factories himself, had seen what his creations, untethered, could do to people.

Seonghwa bit back the memory and tasted blood on his tongue.

During his reminiscing, his colleague had packed his things and fetched his shoes.

“Yeosang, won’t you stay?” Seonghwa got to his feet suddenly, chiding himself mentally for being a bad host. “A storm is rolling in, I can bring your sleeping mats out—”

But the younger man simply shook his head with a smile and stepped outside, breathing in the slightly citrusy aroma of bamboo in late fall. It was as fresh as it had been the day he found this little hideaway and ushered Seonghwa into it.

“I hope one of these days you consider putting your skills to use,” Yeosang teased on the way out, his tone light but his words serious. “The people could use a Mechanist.”

___

A/N: Welcome to Mechanosis!! It was born from a prompt in 2022's platonic fic fest on ao3 and I'm planning on expanding and finishing it, so if you like the late Joseon period/steampunk pirate vibes or are intrigued by the story thus far, please do stick around and let me know what you think :) I may be slow to update considering my many other works and crazy schedule but hearing from readers always helps with motivation so don't forget to leave some in the comments/reblogs! 

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#ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez au #tokki writes #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez fic #ateez angst #joseon era #steampunk au #mechanosis #ateez

[atinytokki]

Mechanosis

Summary

When an injury at work forces Hongjoong to hunt down the elusive mechanist capable of outfitting him with a new limb and— unbeknownst to both of them— unlocking the secrets to a treasured design of his own, a series of undercover meetings in the dark becomes a quest to unite eight boys with a single dream. Or, Joseon’s new Ministry of Technology pushes the nation relentlessly into a steam-powered future. It’s adapt or face the consequences, but being left behind costs far more than even Hongjoong could have predicted.

Originally written for the 8 Makes 1 Family Fest and cross-posted to ao3 and wattpad.

Comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters :)

#ateez fanfiction #ateez #ateez au #tokki writes #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #joseon era #steampunk #ateez fantasy au #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #kpop fanfic #kpop au #mechanosis

[atinytokki]

Hi!!! I'm so happy to see you're back! I hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself 🩷

I'm so excited to see what new stories and new chapters you'll be releasing! I'm really looking forward to reading them!!

Happy New Years 🥳🎉🎆

Thanks so much dear anon ☺️ It’s good motivation to know there is someone waiting! Have a Happy New Year yourself~ 🥂

#tokki answers #anon ask