Gods of the Sea (BTS Vocal Line X Reader)

Chapter 6 - Suffering

"Oh, Miss Hostage," Jungkook sang, waving his hand back and forth as if it were a bell. "My soup is a bit cold."

You sighed, going back to the table and putting a hand on your hip. Jungkook only smiled, ignoring the annoyance you were trying to communicate nonverbally.

"And a moment ago it was too salty, and a few moments before that it was too soggy," you replied. "You're a sailor. Not a king. Just shove it down."

He gave a fake pout. "Ahh, but how can I be a captain if I have no strength? I need a hot meal to keep myself going."

"Then don't be captain," you replied over your shoulder, starting off to get more soup for the others. "See if I care."

His tone dropped an octave lower, suddenly serious. "Maybe I wasn't clear when I said that I was Captain."

You turned to meet his eyes. Even though he leaned back in his seat like a man of leisure and grace, he gazed at you like a man who would love to slit your throat open just to watch you bleed.

Which may have been the case at the full moon.

For the sake of your father, you clenched your teeth and nodded.

"As you wish, Captain," you said, adding quickly under your breath, "Captain Jackass."

You went back down to the kitchen. Taehyung was still over the stove, humming to himself with glee. He winked as you walked in and leaned against the counter.

"His Royal Highness would like hotter soup now," you said flatly.

Taehyung growled, his glow suddenly doused. "Is he trying to punish you or me at this point? I don't appreciate the extra work, you know."

"You think I'm enjoying it? This is the first day of my first job, after being kidnapped and sentenced to the kitchen before having my body sliced open to find some - what? - magical stone that controls fish. Do you want to trade places with me?"

You huffed, nearly sprawling across the counter in exhaustion. You could feel Taehyung's eyes on you as he stirred the soup.

"You don't believe in the powers of the spirit realm," he commented, not a question.

You gave a half-hearted shrug. "I always enjoyed the myths and fairy tales my mother told me. My father always talked about his life on the sea as if it were a ride on a magic carpet. But..."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "But?"

"...But then Mother died. Slowly. Painfully. None of those stories could save her, and none of them could put together the pieces of my father's heart."

There was a pause. "It's not your responsibility, you know."

"What?"

"To keep your father together."

You turned to him, swallowing your frustration back down your throat.

"Your father grieves because it's part of life," he continued, his eyes - deep as the sea - looking straight through you as he spoke. "But in his grief, he also remembers beautiful things that he wouldn't change for the world. His strength comes from that. He's broken, yes. But he's not fragile, my dove. And there's nothing you can do to put the broken pieces together. That's his own journey."

You clasped your shaking hands into fists.

"What do you know about my father?" you threw back. "Or my family? He's lost everything."

"At some point, we all do."

"You don't know the way he's suffered --"

"Life is full of suffering," he said far too apathetically. "The objective is to accept it and become stronger."

You rolled your eyes with a bitter laugh. "Is that it then? It's as easy as just picking up your knees and marching on?"

"The alternative is sinking to the bottom and suffocating."

You saw red, the nerves in your body suddenly vibrating in frustration.

"How can you say such things without any idea of what we've been through?" you asked. "My family has suffered far more in the last few years than some have suffered in their entire lifetimes. You shouldn't speak of moving on so casually to someone who has suffered deeply. It's far too cruel."

Taehyung dropped his spoon, stepping forward and dropping his hands on each side of you, caging you between himself and the kitchen counter. He towered over you, getting your full attention with his deep, swirling eyes. There was a powerful energy coming from him that commanded you still.

"Would you like to hear a story about suffering?" he asked. "I know a good one."

Your jaw clamped shut, irritated and curious. He continued.

"I know a bittersweet tale of a boy who grew up as an orphan in the capital city," Taehyung said. "He had no family of any sort, and the headmaster of the orphanage beat him so hard that he often blacked out from the pain. He ran away from the orphanage as a teenager, hoping to find a new life. And he did."

He leaned in more, the silk of his robe dancing across your feet as the soup beside you on the stove simmered.

"He found a girl of his own age, beautiful and kind," he continued. "Her family took him in, feeding him and hiding him away from the authorities that wished to drag him back to the wretched hellhole he grew up in.

"That girl grew up to be a woman with dreams and aspirations like his, and in his obsessive love, he asked her to marry him. She agreed. A week before their wedding, he came home to find out that she had been killed in an accident."