#however it is the first romance to make me go “just fucking die already” about a character

[bloodtwin]

puck is so funny to me. he doesnt get jealous in romantic relationships at all. the only time he might get jealous is if his affection is unrequited, and the object of his affection is already with someone else. but tbh, i think that's more him being envious than really jealous.

other than that, any potential aggression he might display towards someone flirting with his partner(s) is always going to be in cases where he thinks his partner is being mistreated or disrespected in some way. or perhaps he simply does not like the person flirting with them. but he's not jealous. he wants his partner(s) to be & feel loved by ppl who really care about them / treat them right.

. . . IAGO, HOWEVER!!!!!!!!! he's very unhealthily attached to his twin lol. so sorry to any potential iago suitors, you are going to have to get through their rabid guard dog first. you breathe next to iago, and suddenly puck is breathing down your neck & growling. he is VERY PROTECTIVE of them. he's probably a bit possessive.

there's a lot of projection going on with his perception of literally anyone who interacts with iago. it is . . . so, so, so complicated for him. objectively, in his right mind & outside of bhaal's influence, he wants nothing more than for iago to be happy. he wants them to live. to experience all the good things life has to offer. and he wants them to be safe! protected & loved! he wants them to find someone who can do that for them!!! because he loves them so, so much. at his core, puck just wants what's best for iago.

the PROBLEM is that he knows that is not him. he is not the best for them. they are NOT safe around him, and they never will be because he is supposed to kill them. it's literally written in their blood; they are meant to die at his hand. and oh, how many times he's tried to do it against his will. a few times, he almost tried on purpose- to kill them quickly & painlessly because he knew that wouldn't be how they died if he wasn't in control. but he could never do it because all he really wants to do is protect them.

puck is always very alert & on guard in general, but when it comes to iago those instincts skyrocket. especially about himself, but he takes it out on others. someone makes so much as a mildly snide remark to iago, and they're dead on the ground within seconds. puck just cannot handle the idea of someone else hurting iago because he already puts them through so much. (there's also the subconscious predator instinct. y'know, that's his prey, but he suppresses that as much as he possibly can because oh my god.)

there's also, of course, the insecurity. oh my god the insecurity. puck feels so much shame & guilt. he knows iago would be far better off without him, but that's his sibling. his TWIN. they've literally always been there for him & vice versa. no matter what happened he always knew they'd be right next to him, so he can never bring himself to push them away. he doesn't want to push them away. furthermore, they're also kind of . . . all each other even has? he's iago's only friend, and they're his. so he's afraid of them running off with someone else & never coming back home because they realized they're safer that way. i don't think he does this intentionally; it's definitely subconscious. if you asked him, he'd tell you that he & iago would never abandon each other & of course they can be with whoever they want! he doesn't mind! really!!! haha but what are your intentions with my sibling tho i will murder you if you even touch a hair on their head

^ IN THEORY. puck has very high standards for them. their partner had better be the BEST of the BEST. he can & will try to give their partner rabies or perhaps kill them if they don't meet the mark. this is why it was actually a fucking miracle that iago's canon romance is wyll because puck would have become the joker had it been literally anyone else.

basically . . . if puck can't protect iago from himself, he's going to do everythinggg he can to protect them from everyone else. he WILL protect them from everyone else. so. i am sorry for all the iago romancers out there. there is a dog barking outside your window, and he is about to start crawling into your walls with like. a Chainsaw.

[firstkanaphans]

Hey there! Just wondering, besides Khaotung, who do you think has the best chemistry with First? And if you're feeling chatty, could you list all the pairing couples with First from your most to least favorite and let me know what makes them stand out for you? Thanks😊"

So, I guess this is as good a time as any to come out as a fake First stan because I haven’t actually watched his full filmography 🙈—mostly because I have a super low tolerance for het stuff. But I am always happy to chat about First, so here are my power rankings for the couples I have seen.

Khaotung

What can I say? I’m obsessed with these two. Although I think their physical chemistry could still use some work, no one is going to top them in emotional scenes. You don’t get the “You can be weak—at least with me” scene in The Eclipse if it’s not First and Khaotung. You don’t get that raw emotional connection. There are only three branded pairs working right now that I truly believe make each other better actors and FK is one of them. 

Mix

5 minutes. That’s how long we got to see these two happy and in love. 5 fucking minutes. I kind of alluded to this above, but one of the things I think FK are still learning is how to make their intimate scenes more realistic. Their touches are very…polite. Mix is not polite. He plays sultry really well and is a natural flirt. The fact that First and Mix were able to sell this relationship (and make us root for it) with only five minutes of screen time is truly impressive. I’m looking forward to seeing them work together again in Only Friends.

Gawin

I need slutty First back, you guys. I miss him so much. Him and Gawin both have a very wide range and I would love to see them work together again. A lot of Dan and Yok's interactions are awkward, but they’re supposed to be. For two young actors who had never worked together before, I think First and Gawin did a fantastic job. I mean, they had me shipping my fave with a cop, so they must have done something right.

Ohm

Listen, I will be a The Shipper apologist until the day I die and the PanKhet romance is simply top tier. I’m still amazed at what First was able to do here as a relatively young actor playing two different characters sharing one body and somehow still managing to keep his chemistry with each of the pairs consistent throughout (i.e. First as Kim’s chemistry with Ohm is different than First as Pan’s chemistry with Ohm.) I do have to deduct points, however, for the fact that all of this delicious romantic chemistry was taking place between brothers, but hey. You can’t win them all.

Fluke

Fluke should not be so low on this list and I think if him and First were to work together now it would be an entirely different story, but what makes his chemistry with First a bit more difficult to judge is that for most of their intimate scenes, First and Prigkhing are splitting the lines between them (since they are, you know, sharing a body and all). It’d be interesting to see them work together now, though. I think they would kill it.

Up

LISTEN. Go watch this commercial if you haven’t already. It’s fantastic. And honestly, if I had more material to judge them on, these two might jump all the way up to 4th. You wonder if they even remember filming this? They should make it into an actual BL.

That's everything I've seen, but feel free to let me know in the comments if I need to watch more of First's het stuff. I'll suffer through it for him. Maybe.

And, as a bonus, I would sell a kidney to see him in a BL with Tay Tawan. I know it'll never happen, but a girl can dream.

[tealfling]

1) Amaranth Purpleheart (she/her), (currently) Tiefling (born: Half/Elf), Cleric of the Raven Queen, Chaotic Good

Background: Amaranth has a Noble background by birth. She was born to a human father and an Elven mother that ran a huge merchant empire outside the Gate. As her father's first child, she was the apple of his eye, her mother had 3 older adult children from previous relationships, and was pregnant at the time of Amaranth's disappearance and presumed death. It's Amaranth's father that couldn't handle the death of his child and squandered his human life looking for a way to bring her back. He eventually found someone capable of Reincarnation and had a lock of her hair, and thus Amaranth the tiefling came to be. She's deeply bothered by the parallels between her death and Isobel's and is hugely thankful her father wasn't a dick like Ketheric.

2) Amaranth was in Rivington working in the service of a family that was preparing for the death of their father when she was taken by the Nautiloid. She worried about them constantly until she got to the city to explain things, she feels horrible for abandoning them, and like she's failed them, but is so thankful the kept her stuff. She can't wait to show the group her bag of Memento Mori. A vampire boyfriend and a necromancy book wrapped in human skin is not even on the list of strangest undead things in her collection.

3) She romanced Astarion. It's all fun and games until the player gets played. Especially when they're both too stupid to see it. She immediately saw through his lines, however she mental gymnastics their train of "got to get the other person to trust me" until they were getting a green gown. She also really likes his sense of humor and thinks his bratty side is kind of cute. She doesn't drink tea, but they both spill it, server it hot and fresh as they gossip about everyone. The both like to read, and sew. At first, of course he hated how she had to stop and help every gods forsaken soul that asked for it and she didn't like his selfish overly violent ways. The arguing gave way to bantering, and clap backs and eventfully turned into the "you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid game." And considering how all the others kept propositioning her at camp, Astarion was the safer choice, right? He didn't actually have feelings for her, so there was no risk in breaking his heart like there was with the others. She liked him enough, so it'd be better to break one heart instead of two, right?

4) Camp bestie? Karlach. Hands down. We're talking instant friends. No relationship building here. Immediate Ride or Die. If Amaranth isn't with Astarion, she's with Karlach. Probably causing trouble. Oh, yeah they're workshopping a nickname: Chaos Tieflings, Tiefling Trouble, Demonic Duo, Fiendships. For someone so eager to name things, they can't seem to get Wyll on board with this one. (That's why he's not invited). The only hiccup in their relationship was the night Karlach thought she wanted something more. Amaranth hadn't been expecting that, and it flustered her in a way Lae'zel's proposition hadn't. Amaranth came really close to saying yes, like really close just to make Karlach happy, she deserved to have something go her way for once, but Amaranth just couldn't lead Karlach on like that, when she wasn't sure. Not when Karlach's heart was already so broken. Amaranth almost died of embarrassment later when Astarion popped in for their previously agreed upon feeding she had completely forgotten about, and admitted he saw what happened. Speaking of hearts, Amaranth takes every opportunity to get Karlach to Dammon's forge.

Amaranth: "Kar~lach, let's go flirt with Dammon. Let's go flirt with Dammon. Come on, he's so dreamy. And almost as hot as you. Com'on. He want's to fix you're heart, that's so fucking romantic, please, let's go flirt with Dammon. My gold is burning a hole in my pocket faster than your heart is your chest. Please." Karlach: ugh, I don't know solider, he probably doesn't see me that way. Astarion make her stop. Astarion: Oh, no Darling. I'm completely on board. Let's go flirt with Dammon.

5) Admittedly I haven't finished a playthrough (I'm so close too), but so far everyone has lived (The Doctor would be proud).

6) She plans on continuing to Adventure, hopefully staying with Astarion, because her goal is to cure his vampirism, which she'll be able to do when she can cast True Res. In the mean time, she'll hunt down something that allows him to walk in the sunlight, even if she has to hunt down her mother to do it.

7) Amaranth's father's human life, though longer than it should have been, ended long ago. Though technically, she knows her elven mother and siblings still live, she doesn't consider them family in a close sense since her mother didn't want anything to do with her after her resurrection as a tiefling.

8) [whispering so Astarion doesn't hear] Destroy Undead.

[milesmentis]

What would they think about each other’s love interests (if they romanced someone of course)

Would your warden or Hawke have actually accepted the role of inquisitor if Cassandra had located them as she’d planned to? Would they have been a good leader for the Inquisition?

What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

4) What would they think about each other’s love interests (if they romanced someone of course) 

For the most part, I think that all of my OCs and their LI's would get on well in a group! Individually:

Daren would lay eyes on Merrill and immediately die for her (tiny autistic elf mage is like ... his personal catnip), he'd love Harding (a nice refreshing chat with a sensible Ferelden at last), and he and Bull have ... a lot in common. Like ... a lot. (*cough cough*). He is also the most extroverted and conversant of the group by a pretty wide margin TBH. Very big "friend who wants to meet everyone's boyfriend" energy.

Gil and Zevran did meet, as did Gil and Leliana, and she liked them both though in a polite friend-of-a-friend kind of way. She meets Harding briefly in Skyhold and REALLY likes her, but Bull makes her ... very uncomfortable. However, if she stuck around long enough to get to know more than his mask, she would really enjoy his company.

Hallapan thinks that Leliana is nice, but weird ... honestly she might have tried to rekindle something between her and Daren, if either had been interested, just to give her something to obsess over aside from the Chantry. If she ever met Zevran, the world might literally explode, because they would be instant besties and probably banging within 6 hours. She would think that Merrill was freaky at first, but the second she started talking about Lost Knowledge, Hallapan's eyes would go just as wide as Merrill's and they would be off and RUNNING. Canonically she does know Harding, loves her, loves how Magnus turns into a doe-eyed sap everytime he sees her, number 1 shipper.

Magnus would find Zevran incredibly off-putting from the word go: he's a very direct person, but if he could antagonize his way past Zev's deflection tactics, they could get to a place of mutual respect. Zevran would also be the only person who would say to his face that he wants to bang the Commander so bad it makes him look stupid(er) and honestly, he needs to hear it. He already believes that Leliana is legitimately insane, though ... easy to talk to, but Merrill he would be genuinely afraid of. With Bull he is openly antagonistic and suspicious of him until after Demands of the Qun (his one and only moment of insight was seeing through Bull's shit from Day 1) especially because he sees how Hallapan looks at him. Big "hurt her and I'll bury you or die trying" energy which ... honestly ... Bull respects the fuck out of.

5) Would your warden or Hawke have actually accepted the role of inquisitor if Cassandra had located them as she’d planned to? Would they have been a good leader for the Inquisition? 

So, my Wardenquisitor AU says that Daren would do a decent job over all (though the greater powers of Thedas might disagree because he makes a decent number of allies, but pisses off a lot of traditional power holders at the same time). If it was King-Consort Daren, he absolutely would not have accepted for the same reason that canonically (to me) Cassandra didn't ask: too much unilateral authority. Balancing being a Warden and a monarch is hard enough and he would never take a position that would jeopardize his Queen and country. Gil ... might have accepted if Cass and Leliana had been able to find her, because she is crushingly guilty about Anders and feels a (Carver would say, pathological) need to help people who no one else is looking out for. A chance to try and fix what she viewed as her greatest failures ... yeah, she'd have tried ... and it would have crushed her. Shouldering Kirkwall was suicidal enough, but holding up the sky ... ?

18) What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

Answering this one on another ask (bc this one is already huge jfc)

[transsexualhamlet]

I’ve never been part of an ask game before and cannot currently remember what any I’ve seen looked like — probably because that information would be useful rn, do I just type the emojis out like this? Can I do multiple? Idk, but uh — thank you for this, I like your questions they’re really nice, and also here

💔👁️🏛️👋

Thank you again, sorry if I’m doing it wrong, or if this was for a specific group of people and I missed that (I’m just gonna stop typing now, bye ^^ thanks again)

No worries at all! Ask games are for anyone who wants to participate. If you want to receive asks about these as well as asking them, all you have to do is reblog the post so people know you're interested.

tma ask game !!

💔- I have already answered this one, but my answer as to which fear would create the most datable avatars I would say either the vast or the buried, depending on if you prefer heights or small spaces. They don't have any traits that would immediately make them immediately unbearable and I sort of see the romance in both. Maybe I am a little bonkers but yk...

👋- What characters that don't meet in canon would you like to see interact?

Obviously Jon and Gerry did technically meet, but not while Gerry was alive. I've seen people say this before of course but it's such a shame, I think they could have been a really good really supportive duo for each other.

In seriousness though, Alice and Tim. This is the answer for me, because the problem is neither Tim nor Alice have anyone in the office that can match their freak to the slightest. My god they would have gotten on so well. They would have been insufferably catty besties, why do they have to live in different universes...

🏛️- How do you think you would fare as the Archivist?

I honestly think I'm more qualified for the position than Jon, at least I have job, volunteer, and college experience with libraries and archival. However the problem is that it has very little bearing on the actual job because your actual job is trying not to die hardcore all the time.

I think I would make... similar decisions to Jon for the most part, other than not being as much of an asshole to Martin. Jon's not much less of a wimp than me, so at least I wouldn't do *worse* physically. However because of the fact that I am largely tiny and powerless, I would... hesitate a lot less to take on avatarhood, because to me the moral quandry just goes out the window when the other option is "people are trying to kill me and everyone else painfully". So what if I get a little nosy. Admittedly I would also think it's cool as fuck.

👁️- Do you have any experiences you'd like to make a statement about?

I've had several low-key encounters that have baffled me over time, and if I had to place them into TMA categories most of them would have been spiral aligned, but the one that comes to mind first is... weird?

This was back last year, either during Thanksgiving or Winter break, I was out on a walk in the woods with my brother on a vacation up north and we kept hearing these extremely faint repeating strings of circus like music. I know, I know, however this occured before I had listened to TMA or had any associations with circus music. Looking back on it, though, if I had to correlate it, it felt almost more in tune with music related to the slaughter than the stranger. But so at first, only I could hear it and my brother was like... you're crazy, and then it sort of trickled away after a little bit and I was like yeah I must have just imagined it because we were in the MIDDLE of the WOODS. But then it came back again and it was the exact same like, four measure sequence but slightly different? That time my brother did hear it, but it disappeared again. We continued to walk quite a ways thru the woods on the path we had already planned on going, and we forgot about it for a while, but eventually it came back, no easier or harder to hear despite the fact that we were quite far away from where we had originally heard it. It came back a couple more times, always just slightly fucking Wrong in a really weird way, never exactly the same but never part of any like, real conceivable song, just a string of notes that most definitely came from instruments and not natural phenomena, and as soon as we left the woods we didn't hear it again. The only thing we could think it might have been was like, the college band practicing, since we were like... kind of closeish to a state school campus, but it was during a holiday when college was most definitely not in session, and the only part of campus we were even remotely close to was the science and medical sector which would obviously not have a band practicing, not to mention outside and loud enough to be heard a mile away. Even if for some reason there was a band practicing there, there were unreasonably long periods of silence in between the repeating music (I know how band practices go, they don't sound like that) and neither does it explain why the music couldn't be tracked to any location and sounded the same nearly a mile apart.

Not terribly *frightening*, really, especially since I was not alone and it was like, 4 PM, so it wouldn't make very good Archivist food, but certainly something that I keep thinking about.

Thank you for asking again!!

[wellofdean]

So... CONTEXT. Lots of yelling about it in the last episode of The Winchesters, which I am going to keep referring to as Deanception: Into the Deanverse.

For my money, Dean (and his vessel, the adorably shameless fanfic producer better known as Jankles, long may he reign) is recontextualising the end of Supernatural to reveal/create a version of events that makes more sense and more importantly, is more meaningful. I don't remember where I read it, but Jankles himself is not a finale DENIER per se -- he accepts that Dean's stupid death is part of the story -- but he is a finale HATER. He acknowledges that it happened, but he hates it and (100% rightly) thinks it was a shitty, ignominious end to 15 years of story, to which I can only say…

U THINK??????

Like, my theory is that either there was some shit going on on the DL that we did not know about and which would recalibrate what happened, or Dean is time-travelling to retcon the whole thing to recreate his fate, which is apparently a thing I've heard you can do, if the millions of times someone who was a narrative mirror for Dean said it on The Winchesters last week is to be believed. So basically, either we have all been missing a bit of vital context, or Dean needed to make some contextual adjustments to transform it into less of a shit sandwich... or maybe both: there are things we don't know that happened AND Dean is time-travelling from heaven to retcon his life and change his fate.

And seriously, I don't need to tell anyone hereabouts that there are just a lot of things that just simply DO NOT COMPUTE about the end of Supernatch, which make me think there is some missing context -- like, a plan or an existing romance, or some things that happened that we were not privvy to that Jankles is simply shoving into the cracks. I mean... for example:

First and foremost, why was every minute of the finale as fucking terrible as it is humanly possible to make a thing? Did ANYONE involved in that actually think it was acceptable? I doubt it.

Why was everyone's fate like, THE OPPOSITE of what they wanted and deserved? Why did every single character's fate simply ERASE their road so far?

Am I really expected to believe that Dean never did anything to get Cas back? That Jack never asked about it? That Dean told Jack and Sam "He's gone" and they were like... Cool. Whatevs, man. I mean... we already know that Jack CAN (and DID!) bring Cas back from the Empty.

Are you telling me seriously that Dean gets to heaven, and Heavenly Bobby is all, "Yeah, so Cas helped Jack renovate heaven" and like, he just found that out? How does Dean die on a piece of rebar however long after the end of Chuck not knowing Cas is not rotting in the Empty???

Am I supposed to believe that when heavenly Dean supposedly finds out Cas is not in the empty, that he just nods and goes for a fucking drive listening to Kansas on a loop until Sam arrives??? BECAUSE IF SO, FUCK YOU. SERIOUSLY. AND YOUR HORSE.

I feel like there's a lot to work with, and a lot of cracks to patch up. I am looking forward A LOT to how The Winchesters eradicates the dishevelment of literally the worst finale in the history of television. And, I have this delightful, thrilling feeling that it's not about going BACK for Dean, but going forward from wherever he is now, as whatever he is now, into a fate of his own making, and really, can that even begin to happen without Cas?

OMG, SO EXCITING.

BTW, if you want to talk yell about this to another person, ME TOO!! PLEASE INTERACT!! Let's hear all your theories!!

[hellcatinnc]

Bungo Stray Dogs Season 1 Anime Review

Does Include Spoilers....

Ok so I started watching Bungo Stray Dogs and like most I started because of Dazai. He was sexy and even with his wish for suicide he just got to me. Then I watched the first season and was so happy I did it pulled me in fast. Dazai quickly lost the main reason for the show for me it honestly became my favorite character in first season being Atsushi Nakajima. He had so much heart and compassion that the rest lost so long ago. He made me feel as he learned who he was and who he could help. I grew a strong liking to the character and even shipped him with Kyōka Izumi the way he saved her and even the fact he took her on a date they were just too adorable not to love. Ranpo Edogawa caught my interest mainly cause the voice actor Hiroshi Kamiya who played Baldr Hringhorni in Kamigami No Asobi. I was really surprised that Doppo Kunikida even grew on me and his comedian side to him of how he was with Dazai and always knocking the crap out of him but I could tell he was a good man. Anyways Kunikida's power is pretty cool "The Matchless Poet". I love how he can throw the cards out and whatever it is appears. I also think him and Dazai work so great together.

Now don't get me wrong Osamu Dazai is still a big part of the show and I found it funny how he was about the whole suicide with a beautiful woman. It left me wondering why he wanted to die so much but I know its shown as the seasons go on cause I started season 2 already and already starting to understand but I will leave that in season 2 review of it. So the relationship between Jun'ichirō Tanizaki & Naomi Tanizaki was so weird at first but fuck it I didn't even care they were siblings because not only do you easily forget but they don't look alike at all I feel like maybe there is like an adoption kinda story to them maybe. Anyways you know early on their is not only a relationship with them but its also sexual. However when she almost gets killed the way he responds to losing her and later as well he doesn't get even as a brother he gets even as a lover so I'm gonna treat them just as that fuck it, its not like sibling loves bother me much in anime/otome world. Plus not gonna lie Jun'ichiro his power "Light Snow" is pretty damn neat.

Yukichi Fukuzawa seems like a stickler in the beginning but you find he truly believes in his team and he grew on me. I felt like he cares about each and everyone of them and will fight for them at any cost. He is practically Daddy to them all and I think they would fall apart sometimes if he wasn't the lead of it all. Chūya Nakahara seems to be a cool character but of course I feel like he isn't really a main in the first season however I find him actually pretty attractive as well but I swear its how he dresses more than anything its so damn sharp looking. He gives me that true mafia/yakuza feel to how he looks and dresses. He seems to have anger issues but I love his banter between him and Dazai however I don't see this romance so many want and like. I will pass for now both men are hot and I would gladly be in between these men could make a very interesting smut story thats for sure... lol.

Michizō Tachihara seems like a crazy fuck but still pretty cool character so far based on the first season at least, look forward to seeing him more later he has my attention at least. Even though Ryūnosuke Akutagawa is an asshole in the first season he has one of the coolest powers by far his Rashōmon power like a dragon like creature that he can cut people down easily with. I feel bad for Ichiyō Higuchi because you find fast she is so damn in love with that man and he treats her like pure crap however doesn't stop her from taking on the enemies to bring him back when he is captured. The one sentimental moment where he grabs her hand after she saves him I really wanted after he told her he was sorry I wanted her to tell him she loved him I wonder if it would have changed. I feel like his issue is he doesn't even see her following to him is because she loves him. However its a very toxic relationship at least first season, I just hope it gets better because I think they would be good together plus bad guy or not he is fuckin hot too. Speaking of Ichiyō Higuchi honestly girl has some balls and she will do anything even die for that man I can respect her because she probably could have gotten out from what you get from her but she refuses to leave his side. Gin Akutagawa I still don't know much about him but still seems mysterious and attractive cause of that.

After breaking down the people that all made it interesting for me, yes I know there is more these just happen to be my list of favorites. Still amazes me a show with alot of hot bad guys kinda reminds me of Piofiore in that sense. Anyways I feel like it brings a decent amount of action however every part doesn't have to have it which I really like since I normally don't watch ones that are too heavy on it. I love Dazai's power and how he can hush any of the others with his power practically neutralizing even some of the worst bad guys. I still don't see anyone being gay and I will stand by that and I'm ok because seriously too many hot guys for me to even think about them together I would rather think about them being straight makes it easier to fantasize about them then. Overall I would gladly recommend this to anyone whether your into otome and shoujo the most I think you could still like this if nothing but the comedy side of things. I look forward to the next upcoming seasons as I catch up I will write my review on each season.

[bijoumikhawal]

Okay I've read the main body of SVSSS. I think it's really good as a meta parody and gives some interesting insight into MXTX's mind- I think some of the criticism of her work is unfair and this book is a pretty good example in parts (the running commentary about misogyny in stallion novels is a lot more unambiguous than her accurately depicting misogyny in others wirks like MDZS, though I don't understand why the latter gets read as an indication of her as a person).

However I don't think it works well as a romance story. There are main two problems; one,that while all of MXTX's main characters are people that have gone through the wringer and lashed out on others because of it, sometimes in really grusome and reprehensible ways, we get to see who they are not just before it goes to shit, but after they've acted in a such a way and either by intentional choice or just the passing of time, behave in a kinder and more upright manner. SVSSS's main story ends right after LBH isn't being an antagonistic force driven to the pits. Additionally, LBH is (understandably) a very misanthropic character which makes the way you'd show him learning how to be a person not driven by grief, fear, and anger different.

The other point is SY/SQQ's internalized homophobia is handled in a way that distracts somewhat from his feelings for LBH, and this combines with a lot of the things taken as romantic by other characters being misinterpretions of his internal world. Some of the latter seems to be him bullshitting himself though- "I'm not crying because I'm facing down my beloved student who I've failed horribly and hates me before I off myself without knowing for sure if my contingency plan will work, the sun's just in my eyes", sure Jan. Given how WWX acts its clear that MXTX now knows how to balance internalized homophobia with the character falling in love even if he doesn't realize it, and TGCF doesn't really have internalized homophobia on the protagonists part as far as I've read, he's just a sworn virgin. (However one could argue HC had some issues when he was human depending on how you read the Land of the tender scene).

SVSSS is short compared to her other works, and while I'm not sure how one would do it, having us spend some time with LBH and SQQ after they've gotten rid of his evil sword and SQQ is helping him work through his misanthropy, desire for control, and abandonment issues would improve their relationship from a story perspective, especially because of how obsessive and unhealthy LBH has spent... 8 years of his life regarding SQQ. There's already a foundation with LBH taking SQQ back to his home peak to be taken care of after his near death experience and leaving alone when he gets chased off, and SQQ choosing to go with him with no pressure on him to do so other than LBH's wellbeing (which is no longer tied to things like the apocalypse). I just think there needs to be a bit more between that and what I'm reading in the extras so far.

And it is needed because of how much LBH's dark behavior was directed at SQQ. WWX's dark behavior wasn't so targeted, LWJ's had an instance of targeting but a large part of the novel has been about him doing his best to respect WWX's boundaries and not repeat his parents relationship. I'm not up to snuff on what happened after XL's first banishment yet so I'll keep quiet on that. LBH is so desperate for this one person's affection that he almost destroys the world to ensure he has no other choice but him (and they have terrible fuck or die sex that no one enjoys about it). Evil sword possession making him decide this was a good idea or no, to work as a satisfying romance story, you need to after of all that. Especially because the evil sword had the ability to push him that far because of how chaotic and wrecked his mental and spiritual state were. They're still wrecked.

[dragonsareawesome123]

2, 5, 8, 19 & 25 for the end of year tv shows asks!

2. Favorite TV show you’ve watched/discovered this year.

-I'm gonna exclude Bad Buddy from this bc only the last few eps aired this year and say A Tale of Thousand Stars and Triage. I actually put off watching ATOTS for a bit bc the plot synopsis on MyDramaList didn't really interest me but boy was I wrong about that initial first impression bc it's now my number 2 fav BL, closely after Bad Buddy. Rich college boy almost dies, gains a new perspective on life, and decides to go teach in a poor village and meets and falls in love with another guy there. Lots of pining, staring and fated romance ensues and creates a story so romantic and emotionally moving, helped by Earthmix's incredible chemistry. It's the BL to me that feels most like reading a really good romance novel. What's not to love? Triage is now my number 3 fav BL (topping WOH, which surprised me bc I didn't think that I'd be moving WOH from that spot for a good while). Resident doctor gets trapped in a time loop and can't get out until he saves the life of a rich college boy, and in the process, falls in love with him of course. However while trying to do so, the resident doctor discovers that this may not be that simple as he begins to uncover a whole conspiracy that's been happening right under his nose. I've been hyperfixating on this show for months now and still am (although I think Never Let Me Go coming out in a little over a week might pull me out of that bc I'm already going feral over that show). It's time loop medical drama romance with murder and corrupt higher ups and it's also basically a spinoff of Manner of Death since they take place in the same universe and this show sets up the plot of Manner of Death's sequel, Transplant. Tin and Tol are my blorbos who I would die for and I'm so happy that they got to have their happy ending after the hell they went through to get it (They better have a cameo in Transplant where they're just vibing like Tanbun's cameo in Triage). Honestly I've already said so much about this show these past few months so I'll just leave it at that before I start writing a dissertation about how much I love this show. Am just gonna add that I'm very mad about AIS Play for making this show basically impossible for international fans to watch legally. I hope they make this show more accessible to international fans sometime in the near future especially since it's gonna be necessary to watch this before watching Transplant.

5. Favorite ship you discovered this year.

-Tian and Phupha from A Tale of Thousand Stars and Tin and Tol from Triage. Village gays and time loop gays my beloveds <3 (Also thank you P'Aof for giving Phutian back to me next year even if it's just for an ep!!! ATOTS special ep let's go!!!!!)

8. A ship that finally got (back) together this year.

-Erin and James from Derry Girls!!! I'm so happy that Season 3 confirmed that they were each other's endgame romances. Oh, and also while this hasn't aired yet, it's gonna start and finish airing by the end of the month, so also Lyra and Will from His Dark Materials. I know their romance doesn't really last that long because I've read the book but it's still going to be incredibly sweet and heartbreaking while it lasts.

19. A TV show that shouldn’t have been cancelled this year.

-First Kill. FUCK Netflix for cancelling this show when it literally had the views! Netflix hates sapphics and it shows.

25. Rec me a TV show I should watch next year!

-Hm, well I'd obviously recommend Triage to everyone bc it's truly one of the best BLs of the year and it's criminally underrated. I'd also recommend GMMTV's The Gifted and The Gifted: Graduation bc they're just so good. It's a series about a school with a program where they basically train kids with superpowers. Nanon Korapat plays the main protagonist and he's absolutely INCREDIBLE in it. It's not a BL but there is definitely something gay going on between Nanon and Chimon's characters, especially in The Gifted: Graduation.

Ask me about TV shows I watched this year

[halalgirlmeg]

Me doing a lot of incoherent rambling under the cut, something something Grey's and Bridgerton sucks

They should've let me write the series and tell Julia Quinn that her material is garbage and we're changing everything and she's lucky our first choice Ms. Beverly Jenkins was unavailable:

And you know not to defend Owen or anything (although this is more about writing i guess) but I remember I saw a Grey's clip and it was about that one episode where like there was a gas explosion and this kid his Mom had passed and his Dad was in a coma and basically Owen became close with him but obviously bc it Grey's they pulled the bait and switch the Dad wakes up and all is well yay happy ending but then I saw people saying 'this is why Owen is horrible, he wanted the kids Dad to die so he could take him' like do me a favor and please take a step back because I've noticed more than when shows do things write there's like an overarching message that's tends to be built up from little things whether we're talking like in one episode or over the arc of a season.

And that is a way too simple of a way of looking at the plot right because this is season 9 so cristina is leaving in season 10 so I think they needed to really hint at them breaking up for good. And wanting and not wanting kids is like this dark cloud that hangs over Cristina and Owen and really brings out the ugliest parts of Owen imo. But that whole thing with like Ethan its like now Owen realizes he can't just sacrifice wanting kids for Cristina, like obviously Cristina is worthy of every single good thing however irl, which is like what this is trying to mimic. Having kids is not something you compromise on, not if you aren't willing to accept a major change of how you wanted things to go. That's why I love the Do You Know? episode because it shows what each character will sacrifice and jts not am easy one and either way, it ends up ending badly for them.

And I say all that to say like it kind of makes me think of Bridgerton because I hate Season 1 and The Book its based off of (ironically enough I stopped at the same parts in both mediums because I was digusted) because Simon lies about shooting blanks and not being able to have kids because he doesn't want to, because it's very clear in the show and book that his father is a vile man who treated him like shit and he refuses to give that man the satisfaction of having an heir, and Daphne ol evil ass was like omg he lied let's (redacted cause you already know) like WHAT??? Again was worse enough in the book, 10x worse in the show because now they added the racial implications cause you got dumbasses who think colorblind casting fixes every problem (but I digress, cause that's another point in a different post). And it also makes me mad cause why must he have a baby in either genre cause naive white woman wants it WHY? And it really makes me mad too because obviously someone thought bridgerton was good enough to get a TV adaption and people eat it up every season because it's such good romance but bitch no tf its not. Romance is about the journey, it is about the people within. Daphne couldn't have sat down and talked to Simon maybe learn more about his Dad? No, she just needed to have her way and because white women girl boss feminism, she right even when she's dead ass mf wrong. Julia Quinn is hailed as a romance novelist to be liked when she fucking sucks (and she didn't write Black people until it was money in it for her) but because bridgerton has plenty of sex in it its so revolutionary (omg shall throw a party?). Like where am I going with this??? IDK I'm just talking but I keep thinking about how Bridgerton fumbled so bad, even worse than the book series that already sucked, and how like TV Simon (who i care about first) was subjected to assault because he lied about being infertile (???) and book Simon too?? And so called writers want to like, just make it his fault, and then make us be on Daphne's side (bullshit) like where was the actual romance? No we just get no thought into what actually makes these characters who they are and have them be real actual adults and I keep seeing people act like bridgerton is the best romance ever when its vilely antiblack because almost all the Black male characters are vilified as partners (except for the one guy, but they're not main characters so) but even when Simon is vilified he's good enough to get the white women's rocks off so like they can stare at him while also shit talking rege jean page.

Again lost my point but TLDR:

Was rewatching Grey's s9 and s10 and was thinking

Bridgerton sucks as a romance series all around as a show and literature

White women suck as a whole

I hate Owen hunt always but that one episode made sense and the writing hits me each time very ah ha moment

[unfortunate-arrow]

Hey, I know you read HR so I was wondering if you could give me recs that are not Julia Quinn and Lisa Kleypas,

Love by Numbers series, Sarah MacLean

This one might be mentioned more often, but I absolutely loved the first book. Follows identical twin brothers and their newly discovered half-sister as they fall in love. Can be read out of order. Three books.

Ella Quinn

I’ve read and enjoyed almost her whole catalogue of books. Series are The Worthingtons, The Marriage Game, The Lords of London, and a few novellas. Can be read out of order.

Rouges to Riches series, Grace Burrowes

This was an enjoyable series and I’ve read all but the one published this year. Follows the Wentworth family as they go from poverty to riches. One book features the depiction of a hero who most likely has epilepsy. Another book includes a hero who uses a wheelchair and cane. Can be read out of order. Seven books and a handful of novellas.

Hellions of Halstead Hall series, Sabrina Jeffries

I really liked this series. Follows the five wild Sharpe siblings after their grandmother gives them an ultimatum to marry or be cut-off and as they decide to investigate their parents’ mysterious deaths. Should be read in order. Five books + one that leads into another series.

Swanlea Spinsters series, Sabrina Jeffries

I enjoyed this series. Follows the daughters of the earl of Swanlea plus two others. Should probably be read in order. Five books.

Anna Harrington

I really like all of her work. I’ve read almost all of them and they’re quite enjoyable. Her series are: The Secret Life of Scoundrels, Capturing the Carlisles, and The Lords of The Armory. (The Lords of The Armory should be read in order.) One of her novellas features one of my favorite heroes, Hugh Whitby.

Sons of Sin series, Anna Campbell

I enjoyed this series. Follows three friends who are all illegitimate, even if they aren’t technically illegitimate. (It’s complicated.) Four books + a novella. Probably could be read out of order.

The Survivors series, Shana Galen

I absolutely loved this series. Follows the twelve surviving members of a suicide troop and their lieutenant colonel as they fall in love after the Napoleonic wars. Features a varied cast of heroes and heroines. Not all heroines are virgins and most of the heroes suffer from PTSD. Some heroes also bear physical reminders: a burned face, crushed legs, and near blindness. Most of the heroes also aren’t rakes and there’s at least one virgin hero! Twelve books + three novellas. Should be read in order, or at least leave book 12 for last as everyone prior makes an appearance. *Also, one novella focuses on a black character & a dark-skinned mixed race character. Other novels include characters of color being given side plots.*

Honorable Mentions: Jewels of the Ton, Shana Galen ; The Rogues of Regent Street, Julia London ; Rogues’ Dynasty, Amelia Grey

Note: Some of the books include sensitive topics, including heroines being raped prior to the book’s events in two books.

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH1 TEASER] RING, RING, RING

[★]; YOU'VE ALL HEARD THIS STORY BEFORE. The brothers best friend, the little sister, the googly, starry-eyed crush for the one guy she can never have. In the movies, her years of emotional turmoil are always rewarded with the romance to end all romances— spur of the moment declarations of love, whirlwind 'i've loved you all along's... but for you, your crush on Lee Jeno more or less fizzled out like the aftershocks of a seltzer in milk. When you don't talk to someone for a few years that's bound to happen, you guess; it only makes sense that those feelings dissipated into nothing but an embarrassing memory the moment you grew up a little. But old habits apparently die pretty damn hard. And as you're about to learn, one accidental misdial is going to remind you just how long a first love can last.

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au (somewhat? not a lot of learning is going on lol)

slight slow burn

aiming for lengthy one-shot, but it's already at 11k so... possibly 1-3 parts

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, eventual smut, yn is a menace to society

warnings for this trailer; uncomfy incident with a creepy guy at a bar, talk of injury/reader punches somebody

teaser wc; 3k / est fic wc; 20k-ish / comment on this post for taglist!

[a/n: jeno luvrs, this is for u &lt;;3]

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.

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CALLING YONGBOK THE LAST OPTION YOU HAVE BEFORE YOU HAVE TO BRING OUT THE BIG GUNS. In any younger sister’s arsenal, tattling to ‘big bro’ is truly only a choice to be made in dire straits— when you’re past bargaining, past praying, past any hope to come out of a situation with your dignity intact. It’s the true, red button, no-going-back, final card in the deck of tricks. 

(Well... at least to you it is. But maybe you shouldn’t assume the less than stellar relationship you have with your older brother is universal; because maybe other siblings actually aren’t like you and Mark. Maybe other older brothers aren’t over-protective, soul sucking, total wet-blankets about everything that’s actually fun, like going to parties and experiencing life and staying out later than 11PM. Maybe other younger sisters can actually talk to their older brothers about their problems without the disappointment hammer being dropped on their heads. But you and Mark aren’t other siblings.)

Even in the humid brick of August, the mere thought of calling him right now is enough to bring goosebumps to your skin.

But. But! However. There’s no need to get all doomsday just yet. Because like you said, you've got one last chance. Your saving grace. The magnum opus of ass savings, if he’s not already dead to the rest of the world and his ‘Pika Pika’ ringtone at this hour: Lee Yongbok. (The type of kid your parents definitely wish they had.)

You pull your phone out and find the contacts through dry, bleary eyes, and scroll down to the L's.

It rings once.

Twice.

Please. 

Three times.

Please pick up. Outer Gods, or singular God, whatever, please let this slide once. Just this once. And if you’re taking requests, make him answer the phone while you’re at it. I swear I’ll listen to my friends from now on. Or, the more sensible ones, rather, and I’ll… I’ll shred the fake ID, too. Is that what you want? Come on, Come on, Come on—

"H'lo?"

Your eyes fly open. "Lix? God, Yong, I think I fucked up. You’re not busy, are you?"

The relief you feel is nearly palpable. There's shuffling on the line, staticky and loud, an exhale, and then—

“Not quite, Rockstar."

Huh? Rock…what? You scowl at the nickname, but more so in confusion. Yongbok knew better than to call you that stupid name if he didn’t want to get ribbed— and is his voice usually so rough?

“And for someone who just woke me up at…” the voice continues, an almost comically long yawn interrupting their sentence, “One in the morning, you think a greeting would be commonplace.”

You whip the phone back in front of your face. The screen is as bright as the morning sun in the dim streetlight behind the bar, and someone who is definitely not Lee Yongbok is staring back at you through the pixels. The CallerID picture is more than a little blurry, grainy with age, but the history behind the image is not important— What's important is that the contact on the screen is not Lee Yongbok.

That is Lee Jeno. 

Dread becomes a physical weight in your chest as you stop breathing, frozen in disbelief as you realize what exactly your slippery fucking fingers have just done.

Lee… Jeno. 

One of your brother’s best friends, Lee Jeno.

"Oh, shit."

"Oh shit indeed," he rumbles, quiet from how far you’re holding the phone from your face, and when you gingerly slide the receiver back up towards your ear all you hear is shuffling. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! 

"I’m guessing you meant to call someone else?"

“Yeah!” you bark. Then you realize how desperately it spills out, and quickly correct your tone. Acting suspicious won't get him off the phone any faster. “Yeah I, uh. Yep. I did, I was… I need— Listen, I’m sorry I woke you up, but I really wasn’t trying to—”

Someone inside the bar screams. You whirl around to face the backdoor you’d squeezed through to get to the smoking deck, sure that someone is about to come barreling out to make your already shitty night just that much worse, but it thankfully stays shut. The muffled sound still echoes around the alley though, a high pitched caw melting into the night, and you freeze when you realize the shuffling on Jeno’s end has stopped.

Okay. Theres… there’s a chance he didn’t hear that, right? He’s not saying anything, so maybe—

"What was that?"

Fuck!

“Nothing! Haha, I’m so sorry I woke you up, goodnight—”

“Hold on. Are you okay?”

Silently, you stomp your foot out of frustration, leering up and down the alley like you’re expecting him to pop out from behind a trash can or something and scold you for your bad decisions. Damn your tipsy, heavy fingers; Of everyone on earth, it had to be him you misdialed?

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine!” you warble, “I just… It’s... not—”

"You don’t seem fine," he observes slowly, and you almost go to commend him for his brilliant skills in deduction before you remember that you’re not actually irritated with him. You’re just... irritated. Whatever. Either way, he is the last person you need knowing about your whereabouts if you’re trying to keep your brother out of this.

You swipe at your hair, suddenly bothered by the prospect of a single thing touching your forehead in this heat, and begin to pace the deck. “I’m just waiting for my friends outside of this… place, downtown. It got super hot, so I’m taking a breather outside. I was trying to call a friend to tell him something super, incredibly important, before I accidentally called you instead so… if you don’t… mind…”

“Anybody ever told you that you ramble when you’re upset?”

You stop walking. “What?”

“You do. You ramble and you speak too fast and you pace back and forth like one of those little wound up robot toys. You’re stressed about something. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Throughout the years, even with the few full conversations you've had with the guy, you’ve come to know that Jeno’s tone is often indistinguishable. He sounds bored when he’s having fun. He talks slowly when he’s excited, and his face stays pleasant even when he’s not in the best mood. In highschool you once saw a girl confess to him in front of what must have been half the student population— and all he’d done was blink at her, take the envelope, and continue on his way to class. If being hard to read was a competitive sport, Lee Jeno would be the reigning champ.

Which is why you’re really not expecting to hear the worry in his voice. It’s slight, probably closer to suspicion than anything, but it still instantly makes you feel bad for getting annoyed at him. If one of your best friend’s little sisters was being super vague and cagey, you’d probably ask a few questions too. Ugh.

“Jeno, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m not in danger or anything, I’m just…. I’m just having trouble finding my friends, is all.”

“Your friends?”

“Try not to sound so surprised.”

His eye roll is almost audible, the long sigh very much so. “You know that’s not what I meant. What do you mean you can’t find your friends?”

“I mean I can’t find them? I told you it was packed in there, they left to get something to drink and then just… disappeared.”

“Have you tried calling them?”

“Oh, no, I thought coming out here to scream into the alley would help me find them faster. Yes, I called them, probably about a hundred times each. Nothing. I think it has something to do with the signal, or—”

“How would it be the signal if you’re calling me?”

You hesitate in your tirade.

...Huh. That’s a good point. One you hadn’t thought of, during the general hail of stress you’d been under since you’d lost them ten… probably closer to twenty minutes ago now. (Twenty minutes is practically a year in a bar when you’re alone and an entire lifetime when you’re being chatted up by a guy with no sense of self-awareness; the reason you were itching to find them and get the hell out of here in the first place.)

The signal thing does bring up the only two realistic options, though. One, that both their phones have miraculously died in the span of time it took them to get to the bar. Or two— that they’re dodging your calls. One of them is much more realistic than the other, knowing them, but you don’t want to think about that right now. 

“I don't know then.”

“Well, how did you get to wherever you are?”

“We… Soyeon drove.”

“Jeon Soyeon?”

“Uh, yeah. You know her?”

“Not really. Do you remember where she parked?”

No. You do not. A last minute text from one of Yuqi’s friends promising a good time and free drinks was the catalyst for your twist-and-turn-y trek through the side streets of Gangnam. Soyeon’s car's location was absolutely unbeknownst to you. A physical tiredness settles on your shoulders at the realization of this, at the idea of being essentially stranded if you don’t find them soon, and you almost go to start pacing again— until you remember what Jeno said.

You pace when you’re stressed. 

“No,” you mumble quickly, very much ready to end this… whatever it is. “I don’t know where her car is. And listen, I appreciate the help, and I’m sorry I woke you up, but I really should get going.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Probably look for my friends again.” You shoot another glance back inside the bar, whether hopeful to catch a glimpse of said ‘friends’ or just give your eyes something else to look at besides the black asphalt of the back alley, you’re not sure. “Or something.”

“...Alright. If—”

Someone calls your name, loudly, and Jeno must hear it through the receiver because he stops talking. Yoojin (or Yeojin, or something, he’d half slurred his name when he introduced himself and you hadn’t been interested enough to ask for clarification) is who greets you when you turn. Your frown stiffens the moment you see him.

He wanders out onto the deck, a funny little smile on his lips and positively pink in the face, trapezing down the bar steps until he's parked right next to you on the deck. Great. 

“What are you doing out here?" he murmurs. "I was lookin' for you for like... ten minutes."

What? There’s no way it’s been ten minutes. You only just managed to get away from him in there and that was after he went to get more drinks. He must be sloshed to the point of time travel. "I, uh. I was calling my friend. You're wasted, huh?"

"And you're not,” Yoo/Yeojin whines, “What's the point of getting all cute for the bar if you're not gonna have fuuun, hotstuff?"

"I did have fun," you tell him politely, lowering the phone to your chest so as to not speak right into Jeno’s ear, "But it's getting late. I gotta be home soon."

"Awwww, what? Your parents don't know you're here or something?" And he laughs like it's a joke, but when he sees the look on your face he seems to realize that he’s at least a little bit right. His smile widens.

"What is it then, a boyfriend? You don't wanna have a little more fun, babe? We were really hitting it off."

Um. Alright. You're not sure what part of turning down drinks and ditching him on the dancefloor screams 'really hitting it off', but this dude is obviously gone. He's probably just having a hard time taking no for an answer, so there’s no need to bust out the big guns of... well. You're not quite sure. Telling him to fuck off, maybe. But you're sure it won't get that far. 

"Sorry. I think it's time to call it a night."

The guy's face falls a little, and you think he's finally gotten the hint so you put your phone back up to your ear— but a hand latching onto your other wrist startles you into dropping it. You can only watch your phone skitter on the pavement, stunned, before you turn back to stare at Yoo/Yeojin. "What are you doing?"

"At least let me take you home or something, so I can repay your friendliness. Where're you headed?"

Your stomach rolls a little. "I... Someone's coming to get me, so there's no need for that. Can you let me go?"

It's only now that you realize just how desolate the backstreet of the bar is. The only people you can see are stumbling up the street nearly a block away, and you look back to your phone. You can’t tell if the call is still on because the screen is face down, and you panic a little at the thought. 

All that clattering probably didn’t sound great... Will Jeno think you just got murdered? What if he thinks you just got murdered?

And then an even worse intrusion. Maybe even worse than being murdered. 

What if he calls Mark? 

With a frantic tug, you attempt to pull your arm from his grip but he doesn't let up. Instead, Yoo/Yeojin just coos at you. "So nice. Why are you being so nice then, if there's 'no need'? Come on, I can show you just how fast I can get you home. Where do you live, cutie?"

Too nice? What the fuck? Your stomach is no longer just rolling but now doing full somersaults, and his hold on your arm is only tightening. Whatever drinks you'd had earlier melt out of your system like runoff and you're acutely aware of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, right behind the distant traffic and muffled music coming from inside the bar— but it feels like all you can comprehend is this creep's hand on your skin.

"Seriously,” you start, and you try to shout, but your voice isn't quite cooperating with the anxiety thumping in your lungs. It comes out more like a squawk along with your next words. “Can you let me go?"

Yoo/Yeojin just laughs again. Still smiling, he pulls something out of his pocket.

You just watch in disbelief as he fiddles with it, rotating the object once, twice, before he presses something on it and you hear a honk. His head turns to the sound.

Car keys. He’s just pulled out car keys.

Oh fuck. 

You're freezing up. It's like every PSA, every warning from Mark and your parents, every story you've ever heard about things like this is scattering out of your brain like a line of spooked birds and you don't know what to do. What do you do?

"Hard to get doesn't work on me—"

You're not sure what happens. All you know is that you blink and all your muscles tense up, there’s this horrible crunching sound, and then Yoo/Yeojin is flat on his ass on the pavement and holding his face with both hands. It’s so quick that you don’t know what to do once he’s not on you anymore, and you’re just staring— watching stupidly how his eyes peel open, teary and furious— until those eyes train on you.

“What the fuck!” he screams.

That’s your cue. You bolt. 

You don't care if you look crazy, and you completely forget about your friends who are probably still in the bar. You scramble to snatch up your phone, and you run. 

You can’t hear anything but your own heartbeat over the sound of your feet hitting the ground. Is that normal? What’s normal after punching a guy and running away? Oh god, you just punched a guy. Is that illegal? What if he’s coming after you? People’s eyes trail you as you pass, but you don’t dare turn around after that last thought— too busy with flying across streets, crossing corners until everything looks different and your lungs begin to seize in protest.

It’s not until you’re about three blocks up and one block over, hidden and crouching behind the dumpster of a 7-11 with an aching hand and two missing shoes do you realize your face is wet and your phone is ringing.

“Hell— Hello?”

“Where are you?”

Jeno? You look down at the LCD again, and yeah. That’s him. And, damn it, your screen is totally fucked too. You can barely even see his face through the shattered glass, stupid and smiley and bright and—

“I don’t know. I— I ran, I don’t—”

“Landmarks. Street names, storefronts, anything. Give me anything.”

He sounds wide awake now. A modicum of reality drips into your adrenaline fueled world. Give him anything? Why would he need to know where you are? It wasn’t like he was going to… 

“Are you going to tell Mark?” you blurt.

An incredibly heavy beat of silence, before Jeno is muttering through the speaker, voice uncharacteristically stern, “Is that really what you’re worried about right now?”

Yes. Yes it is. And for good reason; that’s not a no. You’re right. He’s totally going to tell your brother.

You swallow hard. “You have to promise not to tell him Jeno, I’m serious. You can’t. He already thinks… you can’t—”

“Where are you, Y/N?”

The edge in his voice is so unfamiliar that your defense crumbles pretty much instantly. So Mark’s going to find out anyway. Great. You’re sure that’s in some best friend code somewhere, ‘thou should always snitch on thine buddies siblings, when thine siblings are being dumb as fuck’, but your stomach sinks anyway.

God.

Peeking around the dumpster you search for a sign, any sign, and catch a glimpse of a green placard tilting on top of a post across the street.

“Some place called Yeoksam road. I’m… I’m hiding behind a 7/11.”

“Okay,” Jeno says finally, exhaling, and there’s a few more shuffles before you hear the sound of an engine starting, and you freeze. “Stay there, and don’t hang up.”

“Wait— you’re coming?”

“What else would I do? Call you an uber?”

“No,” you blurt, “I didn’t— I thought you were going to make Mark do it.”

“...You told me not to. Would you rather I call him and—”

“No!”

“Then stop asking questions. I’m ten minutes away.”

♥︎ [thats all for now, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed, it'll definitely give me the motivation to work on this faster! thank you for reading &lt;;3]

[thefanficmonster]

hello doll! can u do headcanons for sidney prescott x reader where the reader gets majorly injured at stu’s in the first movie and sidneh worries that she’ll never get to confess her feelings, so the two confess to each other at the hospital?? if that’s too confusing i am so so so sorry. have a great day, love!

Hi darling! Thank you so much for the wonderful request it's a pleasure to fulfill it! Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Sidney Prescott x Reader (Gender Neutral) [Scream 1996]

Warnings: SPOILERS for the first Scream movie (1996), Injuries, Blood, Knives, Guns, Swearing, Near death experience

Genre: Angst, Romance

- "We've got a surprise for you, Sid!"

- You barely register Stu's voice as you fight to stay conscious despite the blood loss you're currently experiencing slipping you into darkness

- "Y/N! What did you do to them?!" Sidney's scream forces your eyelids open as your hazy blurred vision attempts to capture what's going on around you

- Wait....Stu? Billy? They.....

- You had wandered off to find Tatum earlier that night after she went to fetch Stu beer

- You went into the kitchen then to the garage where you found her dead body

- The shriek you let out was silenced by a gloved hand

- The killer had found you, his next soon-to-be dead body

- That was his intention, to turn you into a lifeless corpse on the ground, when the steel blade of his knife stabbed through your gut

- The excruciating pain had you biting down on his fingers, causing him to let go of you, your body dropping to the floor, too weak as a result of the pain

- The kick to your head was what knocked you out completely, leading him to think this was a case-closed situation, leaving him with another kill to his count

- Little did he know, you had survived

- You fell in a way that had your wound pressed into the ground, applying the needed pressure to slow down the bleeding

- But no you find yourself in the kitchen with three of your closest friends

- You're tied up but still held in place by Stu who probably dragged you there from the garage

- "If I were you, Sid, I wouldn't be worried about Y/N. The bitch just won't fucking die." Billy says, crouching down to press the handle of the knife he's holding into your open wound, causing you scream and kick him

- "Not at your hands, I won't." You spit at him, the blood coating his already red shirt

- "Oh, you sure about that?" Asks Stu, the downright manic tone of his voice sending chills down your spine

- Within the bling of an eye, Billy hands him the knife which he wastes no time using to make a twin wound to the one you already have, just a little to the left of it

- The pain numbs you, threatening to shred you out of existence to the point where you can't even let out a single sound

- This time, the darkness takes over, the last sound you hear being Sidney's screams and cries for you to stay alive, cursing the two maniacs for their doing

- And the last thought you have is reserved for her

- I love you, Sidney. I love you but you'll never know....

- Little did you know in those last moments that she would know

- And that those wouldn't be your actual last moments

- Billy was right about one thing, you just wouldn't fucking die

- You're the last to find this out, however, considering you were still out of it after the surgery when Sidney, Dewey, Gale and Randy were told you'd be making it even if just barely

- You also missed out on Sidney's complaints and protests to the doctor and nurses not allowing her in your room - a resolve no one could shake

- Which is exactly why she did end up getting inside and was the first to witness your eyes opening

- With a gasp she tightens her hold on your hand

- "Y/N, oh my God, hey, ok....you're ok, we're safe. Let me go call the doctor."

- She gets up to her feet and just as she's about to let go of your hand, you stop her, refusing to let the contact go

- "Wait, please, wait." You weakly manage to murmur, "Just...just ten minutes. Give me ten minutes and then you can call whoever you want."

- Although hesitant, she obeys, sitting back down in the chair, "Ok, but just ten minutes.....God, Y/N, you had us all so worried."

- You chuckle, "You should've listened to that fucker, I'm not keen on dying as you can tell." You pause for a second, letting out a shaky breath as the weight of the situation comes down on you yet again, this time heavier and sitting directly atop your wounds the scars of which will forever serve as a painful reminder of this night

- "What the fuck happened?" You find it in you to ask despite being unsure whether you really wanna know the answer or not

- "I'll need more than ten minutes to tell you." Sidney sighs, running her free hand through her hair which is still stained with blood

- You nod, "We'll rain check that one." You pause for a moment before assessing the sight of her

- Of the Sidney Prescott you've known since kindergarten

- The Sidney Prescott you've spent 20 out of 24 hours of every day with since you started attending the same school

- The girl you've been inseparable with for more than a decade

- The girl you see every day but still manage to find something new about every next day

- The girl who knows you better than anyone else

- She just doesn't know one detail....

- You see how hurt she is, it's written in her gaze

- You see how broken she is, it's projected in her posture

- You see the destruction that Billy and Stu brought upon her

- And you realize you've never before hated someone so much

- All you wanna do is hug her, let her cry in the crook of your neck and tell her that, eventually, she'll be alright

- You want to hold her in your arms and protect her from anything and everything

- But your wounds would disagree

- "Shouldn't you be in a hospital bed too?" You ask her, seeing as how she only has a few bandages here and there for minor injuries

- She's also wearing a new set of clothes which lack the red tint of blood

- You're grateful for that

- "Most of the blood on me wasn't mine." She replies, pausing for a brief moment before forcing out a small smile, "And most of it wasn't even blood. It was corn syrup..."

- For one reason or another, you aren't surprised. You've gotten to the point where very few things can surprise you

- That's probably to be expected after two of your best friends ended up being the ones making an attempt at your life

- "Yummy" you mutter

- A moment of silence falls over the hospital room, brightly white but still oddly dingy and dark

- And then you both cackle, reassuring each other that your brains are equally as exhausted and malfunctioning

- "Ok, ok, what else can you tell me in the remaining minutes?" You ask her, tilting your head to the side to relax your stiffened neck

- That's when the hurt in Sidney's eyes is replaced with something else

- Something softer

- Thoughtfulness

- She looks away

- What you don't know is that, in your 'last' moments, what she thought was a lot similar to what you did

- Y/N, stay with me! Don't you fucking die! I have so many things I need to tell you...just one more chance, give me one more chance and I won't waste it. I'll tell you all I never could before. I promise....

- It's a promise she just now realizes she may not be courageous enough to keep

- But then she's reminded of how fragile a human life is

- How much it actually resembles the flame of a candle

- How easily hers and how close yours was to getting snuffed out

- And that's all the push she needs to start singing

- “I can tell you plenty of stuff....but I have one specific thing in mind....” She trails off, chewing on her lip and letting go of your hand so you won’t notice her palms getting sweaty

- You carefully analyze her behavior, “Go on.”

- That’s when Sidney realizes she hadn’t thought this far through

- “I-...I hope you know I see you as one of my best friends, Y/N. I hope you know that and not the full truth because that would mean Tatum ratted me out and I really want to be the first person you’re hearing this from so...here goes nothing...”

- Sidney is not one to stall like this, you know it, which is why you’re more than a little concerned about the final blow

- “I...I may or may not be in love with you, Y/N. And I know it sounds extreme and I know it’s completely out of left field and I know you might think this is because of the tragedy we just survived but what I need you to know is that none of that is true. Ok, yeah it’s out of left field and a little extreme but it’s true and has resided within me for ages now. I mean that literally, actual years. I just...”

- “Sid, five minutes aren’t enough for your rambling and for me to squeeze in my own confession as well so I’m sorry, but I’ll have to cut you off.” You put an end to her verbal waterfall with a slight wave of your hand that’s meant to keep your cool exterior intact despite the tears in your eyes

- Sidney is visibly taken aback and startled, “Your confession?”

- “Hun, no offense, but boy, can you be dense sometimes. A literal brick wall.” You laugh, getting a playful scoff out of her, “Jokes aside, yes, I have a confession of my own. I, before bound to this hospital bed and connected to these machines right here right now, confess to my immense and downright embarrassing crush on you, Sidney Prescott. Truth be told, it was a crush, now it’s just....love. Extreme, as you said, but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I’m so in love with you, Sid, to the point where it’s a literal problem.”

- Sidney wipes a tear off her cheek, a product of your words, as she smiles at you, “God, you always have to be so dramatic, don’t you. No wonder you’re the theater kid.”

- You gasp, ‘offended’, “It wasn’t dramatic, it was poetic!”

- “I suck at words, I do better with actions, personally.” She says smugly

- “Perfect, then show me.”

- She doesn’t need to be told twice not that you can tell her anything when her lips are on yours

- The contact creates a bubble of safety around the two of you, excluding you from the world, from the past and from the future, sealing this memory in a single fragment of time that’ll only ever belong to you and Sidney

- A memory that will live with you and longer than you

[iiraven]

Odyssey

Pairing: Poseidon!Armin x Reader

Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: slow-burn, minor character death, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, Yandere behaviour, puppy play, piss play, body worship, throne sex, implied age-gap, oral(male receiving), hair pulling, collaring (without consent)

Word count: 9.8K

Synopsis: Armin’s quest for revenge leads him to you, daughter of a merchant and object of his infatuation.

Author’s note: thank you @bubbleteaimagines​ for hosting this collab and allowing me to join <3 Also, thank you @onyxoverride​ for teaching me how to write about pee!

Attack on Titan Masterlist

Present day:

If the river could speak, you wonder what it would say.

In the silence that surrounds the rushing of the water, you’re sure you would hear it. Sometimes, you’re sure you can hear it, but then you remember the dangers of trusting unfamiliar voices. Especially unfamiliar voices in a place like this.

No one goes near the river Shiganshina. And you forget the reasons why much too often.

It’s rocky, slippery, there’s no path to walk on, and the nymphs grow sharp teeth when men approach them, hissing and eyes glowing red. But that’s what makes it perfect for you.

Sasha first mentioned the river months ago, recalling the places on the island that her and her father avoided whenever they went hunting. You hadn’t paid much attention to it until days later, when Connie recounted with round eyes how Floch’s body was found beside the river Shiganshina, mouth full of water and eyes gouged out. You knew you needed to go there yourself.

A pearl necklace is what you stole. And under the guise of going to wash clothes at the well, you made your way south of your small island with only Sasha’s vague instructions and your intuition guiding you.

You could hear the ocean as you walked through the untouched woods, your heart hammering in your chest every time the waves crashed against the island’s cliffs. You weren’t allowed to see the ocean- you weren’t allowed to be around any large body of water, for that matter- but you still knew your island well enough to know that a step in the wrong place could lead you tumbling down the cliff.

You would die before you got to feel the water on your skin and that, you thought, would be the most tragic part.

As your feet began to sink into the muddy ground, you could smell the salty water, and a slight metallic scent behind it that only drew you in closer until you reached a clearing. It was small, crowded with foliage with only a few dead plants on the ground where you could only assume people had attempted to step foot.

And there was the river. It was small, its water emerging from underground before the tide pushed it to the edge of the island- to a waterfall. So loud that it could drown out any noise, any screams. You shivered. For a moment, you just stood back and watched. The water was was green, but so clear that you could still see the fish swimming beside the floating objects. Coins, silver, small statues, and whatever else hopefuls had tried to offer. You pulled out your own offering and whispered a short prayer before throwing the necklace in.

It could have been your imagination, but the water calmed. It was quieter. And, like that, you felt as if the river had opened up its arms to you. Strong arms that you have to be cautious not to spend too long within lest you get trapped.

Thankfully, you’ve learned to read the signs. You know when the river wants you to leave, when it wants you to keep your distance, when it wants to keep you close, and even when it wants you to bathe. Those are the special moments. It’s rare the river is calm enough for you to dip your naked body into, but surrounded by the cool water, you feel like you could stay their forever.

If the river could speak now, however, you’re sure it would tell you to fuck off.

Either that or it would tell you to come back when you have something more to offer its god than a single golden bead from your grandmother’s necklace. Only three are left on the thin string, though you think you might keep the last one to honour her death. After that, you’ll have to go back to offering coins and whatever other trinkets that will keep the god of this river sedated long enough for you to dip your feet into the cool water, maybe take a sip, and then return home before your father realises where you’ve been, much less where you’ve been unchaperoned.

The latter is hardly your fault. Sasha and Connie are too scared to step foot in the Shiganshina forest, let alone the river itself. And you can’t trust anyone else to accompany you, especially the servants whose tongue could slip at the drop of a golden coin. Your father would never forgive you for spending time in the territory of the God of the Ocean or- as he liked to call Armin- the destroyer of seas. And thus, being left alone seems to be the only way.

Well, that’s unless Mr Arlert decides to join you.

The owner of the stable who appeared on the island out of nowhere is the last person anyone would expect to be brave enough to spend time at the river Shiganshina. He mostly keeps to himself, only ever seen tending to his horses or immersed in scrolls of literature and poetry. And yet, he’s here almost as often as you are, almost as vulnerable as you are.

Despite his solitary nature, Mr Arlert has been quick to make himself adored. Mothers swoon over his charm, scholars constantly indulge in his curiosity, and sailors are fascinated by his knowledge of the world and its oceans. He’s no warrior, and already in his late twenties, but he’s still without a doubt one of the most eligible bachelors on Paradis. And, yet, to any marriage proposal sent his way, he declines with a polite “A husband is not what I am fated to become”. Even Annie Leonhardt- whose father Mr Arlert would constantly visit- had her heart broken. But no one blames Mr Arlert, of course, who was there to comfort Annie, to make her realise that she just needs to be a better person, that’s all. It’s not his fault her heart broke, Mr Arlert reassured.

Thinking about it now, you’re amongst the handful of women who haven’t been offered to the tall blond. And with that comes a sigh of relief as you drag your fingers through the water.

It’s not like you dislike him- the opposite, actually- but being with Mr Arlert is like taking the hand of an invisible man in the dark and letting him guide you.

His words constantly have your thoughts spiralling in directions that they shouldn’t be. Thoughts about leaving the island, thoughts about going to the ocean, thoughts about becoming a priestess. Thoughts you aren’t allowed to have.

You fate is bound to the home you were born in, a thick rope tied to your ankle, only letting you go as far as this very river. And Mr Arlert sits beside that rope, a knife in his hand, blue eyes staring into your soul, waiting. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. But what you’re sure of is that to be taken away from the life you know of is an inconceivable fantasy. The unknown is a dangerous thing, after all.

The small island of Paradis may lie far away from the rest of the world, but their core values remain the same. A woman must grow up to either serve her father or her husband. Your fate has already been decided for you. And, frankly, if it means not having to share a bed with an old man who marries you for your dowry, you’re very happy with taking care of your father until the day that he’ll be put into the ground.

But then there’s always the third option. A woman who serves neither her father nor her husband will serve her god. 

You had never been given that option by your god-hating kin. Simply suggesting a future as priestess would earn you at least five lashes, so why… why can’t you stop thinking about it? Your instincts have you blame Mr Arlert, but you know that your fixation began before he arrived on the island; all he’s done is vocalise your thoughts.

As a gust of wind blows the leaves and the salt from the sea gently caresses your cheek, you wonder who your god would be. Do you resonate with Pieck’s beauty, or Zeke’s creativity? Maybe. But as you look into your reflection, you know that your god is no other than Armin, the god of the ocean. The fates must think this is hilarious, but you just want to scream.

“It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your father worrying about you.”

You jump at the sudden voice, turning around at the familiar face, leaning against a tree with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Mr Arlert.”

His footsteps are so gentle, as are his apologies.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve come to invade your space, after all.”

“It’s not my space, it’s Armin’s. The god is only letting me stay here.”

He smiles a knowing smile, one that you would usually find patronising on any other man. But Armin is charming, too charming for you ever to think that of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

He comes to sit down beside you, taking his usual place at your right- the voice of reason. It’s quiet for a moment, before you remember.

“Lemnos,” you say.

The blond smiles. “I’m not named after a place.”

And you roll your eyes, as you’ve done every time he’s given you a useless hint. “That hardly narrows it down.”

“Well, I can’t make it too easy of a game.”

“You can’t make it impossible either!”

“It seems like I already have.” And you’re not sure if you want to wipe the smirk off his face or just stare at it.

“What about Tree?”

Arlert laughs. “No, but you have one guess left.”

“What?!” You sit up straight, eyes wide. Now you really want to wipe the smirk off his face.

“You have seven guesses, and in the eleven months we’ve known each other, you’ve used up six.” His explanation is calm and rational enough for you to almost convince yourself that the rule has been there from the start.

“Wait- wait. I never knew about this!”

“I thought everyone did. It’s traditional wager rules.” Mr Arlert’s tone is sorry, but you know he’s everything but. So, you cross your arms and pout, hoping that staring him down might at least give you the smallest chance of winning your wager.

He leans forward, mirthful and you feel a shiver go down your spine. “What is it, little puppy, sulking because you’re afraid you can’t win?”

You flush at the implication of your loss- “No- no not at all- no”- before registering his actual words are and only then can you feel the heat rise and you’re sure it’s doing you no service. “I know I can win!”

“I know you can too,” he assures you.

You frown. “Are you being sarcastic?”

It’s his turn to flush. “No, not at all! You can win- the water god favours you, after all.”

And although you shrug, his words stick. They always do.

Before you go home, you pass by Armin’s temple and place at the foot of his statue the remainder of your grandmother’s necklace.

A year ago:

Amrin knew how fickle the gods were and he thought that this knowledge made him impervious to those feelings. He watched how Eren jumped from woman to woman daily, how Reiner picked and chose his battles without a care, how every single fixation a deity would have never lasted more than a year. He thought of how stupid it was to spend a life of immortality indulging in such temporary pleasures. And he looked down on his kin for that very reason.

It was only after one argument too many that Armin finally let it slip. The god of the sea was usually quiet, offering soft smiles, casual conversation, and minimal conflict. That was his only rule: keeps quiet before the gods of the pantheon as he takes his anger out on the humans below. But that day, he forgot about his rule.

Maybe it was the years of silence that caused the Eathshaker’s outburst, or maybe it was just Eren’s bored expression as he talked about his mistresses in front of Mikasa. Armin couldn’t take it. Gathered at a marble table beside all the Olympians, he scowled and told them how stupid they all were.

“Don’t you realise? You’re all wasting your immortality by being so idiotic, so fickle! Everything you touch becomes a temporary pleasure, ruined by your inability to act like real gods.”

He should have stopped; he really should have stopped. But the crack in the glass bridge had been there for years, and now the shards of glass were dropping down into the sea. “You might as well be human!”

The room went silent. Eyes went wide, and mouths gaped, but the gods opted for silence. Every deity wanted to speak up, maybe even draw their swords, but they were more intelligent than Armin was in that moment, which was more unusual than one might think. He had never snapped so violently before. Armin may have been aggressive, but he knew his place. Knew when to be docile. Now, he felt like he could crumble Olympus itself with his rage and bury the Olympians with their dead parents.

The king of the gods, however, leaned forward. His emerald eyes were unmoving, devoid of emotion though his lips tilted into a monstrous grin.

“You’re just as fickle as the rest of us, brother,” was all Eren said.

When Armin lunged at him, knocking the fine glass off the table, it was Mikasa who pinned him down. Arms locked behind his back, all Armin could do was watch as mirth flooded Eren’s face, and the god of the sky laughed. The bastard laughed and laughed and licked the small wound on his hand from a shard of glass. It healed immediately. Even their pain was temporary.

And like he had been doing for the past millennia, Armin found solice in his only rule: if he couldn’t take out his rage on his brother, Armin would take out his frustration elsewhere.

His first instinct was to find a woman, but the thought of seeking out temporary pleasure, from a mistress no less, reminded him too much of Eren. So, he descended to earth, trident in one hand as the other gripped the reigns of his horse and they rode for three days and three nights. That’s all it took for the god of the sea to find what he was looking for- someone deserving of his hatred.

There are many humans like the merchant. But most of their hatred is silent. And when it’s not, blasphemy often falls upon deaf ears. The merchant just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time when his drunk rambles led him up on the deck screaming out Armin’s name like it was venom in his throat, until he could scream no more. He was drunk, but the merchant’s hatred for the god of the sea did not cease when he was sober.

And when Armin heard his name, the god wasted no time calling forth a storm to sink the merchant’s ship. He took care to ensure that the arrogant man watched each and every one of his men be swallowed whole, their bodies only resurfacing lifeless, before the storm calmed.

It took five days for the merchant to swim back to his island.

He never returned to the sea.

As the weeks passed, he relocated his home to help him stay away from any body of water and made sure that his family followed suit.

But Armin followed, and the merchant’s father died weeks later with saltwater water found in his lungs.  

Unfortunately, that was not enough to sedate the god of the sea’s need for vengeance. Fortunately, it was not enough to sedate the merchant’s hatred either. The hubris didn’t leave him. Instead, it just grew and grew and grew until the merchant considered himself more of a god than Armin would ever be.

“Oh, oh.” Armin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the man urinate before his temple. “This is perfect, so perfect.”

Armin was going to show his uncaring brother how different he was from the rest of the miserable Olympians. As he stood above the island of Paradis, golden hair blowing in the ocean wind, the god vowed to begin his Odyssey. An eternal Odyssey. A journey that would last longer than the ten fleeting years he had with the Greek hero- a journey that would last longer than the universe itself.

And he knew exactly where to begin. A man’s most valuable possession: his child.

It was only after your grandfather’s death that Armin noticed you. When he first began watching the merchant’s household, under the guise of either a guest or a bird, he had been surprised to learn that the blasphemous man had no wife, nor children. Armin only realised his mistake one night, when you came to lay a blanket on the drunk man’s barely conscious body. The merchant had pulled you towards him, muttering apologies and you had wrinkled your nose before offering him a soft smile. “It’s okay, papa”.

A daughter sheltered from the world, it seemed.

The god had initially thought you were one of the servants. There were only two in the house, and your tasks were all similar. But as Armin began to watch you closer, he saw how you did have a life outside your home with friends, interests, men- a life your father was blissfully unaware of.

The merchant hardly left home- playing the part of the sick man- and you took care of him- playing the part of your dead mother- in a happy sort of agreement.

You didn’t speak about it to your friends, but you detested your doting role. Armin could tell. The way you wrinkled your nose every time your father walked through the door, the eye-roll when you were given a load of laundry. The god couldn’t help by laugh at how pathetic the merchant was that not even his only daughter- his lifeline- cared for him. The merchant didn’t know, of course. Your fake smiles and gentle hands were enough to deceive him, keep him sane. But Armin was going to break that pattern.

The merchant didn’t deserve the care of a woman. He didn’t deserve anything. So, Armin was going to take you away from him.

His initial plan was to kill you. Simple, efficient, quick. And then he thought of dumping your body somewhere far so that the search for you would break your father’s spirit even more. He hesitated, though, he wasn’t sure why, but he did. And then, you changed your routine.

After meeting up with the two individuals you called your friends at the Sunday market- instead of going back home- you carried on walking. Through the houses on the outskirts and into the dense trees, you almost stung your sandal-clad feet twice before reaching a river. The river had no god of itself, but you still threw in an offering and muttered. Stupid human. And then you sat beside the river and- nothing. Your routine was boring, obviously a ritual to let you escape from reality. Yet, he couldn’t tear away from you. The woman at the river Shiganshina was a different one than the woman who served her father. The one here relaxed her shoulders, cursed at the world around her, smiled- albeit randomly but it was real. He decided there that he would kill you tomorrow.

But when, the next day, you led him back to the river, Armin was lost in you again. Lost in your honestly, lost in your need to escape. He wanted to see more, he needed to see more. Metaphorically, of course. But when you began undressing, the pleated robes dropping to reveal soft skin and tender curves, the god of the sea realised that he wouldn’t mind literally seeing more of you. Armin had been with goddesses and nymphs and, hell, even Aphrodite herself, but never had he been this awestruck. He had to hold himself back. Even though the way you were bathing made it seem like you were worshipping him, water dripping from your body, wet hair hiding the swell of your breasts. Armin’s breath stuttered. He couldn’t reveal himself. He couldn’t.

So, he watched, and watched. Trying desperately to take in everything you were from a distance. Armin didn’t count the number of times he visited you before finally decided that killing you was no longer an option. He told himself that his change of mind was progressive. A practical choice to draw out his revenge into the most painful and convoluted Odyssey. To do that, he couldn’t kill you. No. He was going to take you for himself. Armin was going to turn the daughter of the merchant into a servant of the one God he detested.

Putting the thought into your mind was pathetically easy. As you walked past his temple on your way home, an echo of laughter emerged from the marble building. You paused for only a moment, but it was enough for Armin to catch the look in your eyes. It was one of longing, mixed with a curiosity that threatened to pull you in. But you seemed to catch yourself in the act and hastened yourself home.

And so, Armin’s true Odyssey began. 

For his journey to progress, he had to meet you. Not as a bird or a horse or through glances as a guest. He had to meet you properly. This was the only way to draw you in, he told himself. The only way for you to submit completely and willingly.

Armin could have forced you too your knees, but he had to ensure that your father watched has his daughter chose Armin over him. And chose Armin you would. Every piece was in perfect place. The fates seemed to have woven a beautiful cloth of gold for the god of the sea.

What he failed to realise was that the cloth was in fact a snare- a trap which he will never be able to escape from.

Eleven months ago:

A short gust of wind had the pears in your thin basket tumbling down onto the rocky ground. You rushed after the fruit, crouching down to pick it up when a shadow appeared, and a hand reached out to pick it up for you. The sandal-clad feet were pale- paler than anyone living on this warm island and the robes a fine, ironed white. He somehow seemed to glow brighter than his clothes, and you purposefully let your fingers graze his as you picked up the fruit.

“Thank you,” you said, standing up.

You were hoping that he wouldn’t catch your staring. But even if he did, you couldn’t tear your eyes off him. He was lean, taller than you but not intimidatingly so and his eyes were like oceans that you found yourself staring into as he introduced himself as Mr Arlert. Just Mr Arlert. The new owner of the stables with a voice so soft, it took a moment before you remembered to introduce yourself.

“Y/N. And thank you, again.” It isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to be talking to a man on her own, but you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you have a first name Mr Arlert?”

His smile was contagious. “I do. But names are a powerful thing. I’m afraid I can’t give mine up freely.”

“Oh.” You scrunched your nose. “Can I pay for it then?”

You were dead serious, but the blond man laughed. How can someone look so pretty when they laugh? You wondered.

“I’m serious! I can pay you; name your price.”

Mr Arlert looked down at you, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, is that a no?”

“It’s a no, for now. One day I’ll tell you my name.”

He was sweet, so sweet, but you still gave him a sceptical frown, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing. Mr Arlert in turn gave you a sorry look before his eyes lit up and he pulled out from his brown satchel a small book of yellowed pages and a dusty blue cover, the gold embossing hardly visible. You nose only scrunched further.

“My name is in this story. It’s mentioned few times, but it’s an important one,” he said to you.

You took the book and flipped through the worn pages, immediately recognising the tale of Aphrodite and Ares. The lovers.

Why the challenge? You wanted to ask Mr Arlert but you knew the answer you your get would be too cryptic. Besides, you think, I like a challenge.

“How long do I have?” You asked instead.

“A year and a day.”

“And what will I get if I figure it out?”

At this, he pondered. But it seemed feigned, and you wondered, just for a split second, if the man had planned this from the beginning. But why? This was another one of your questions that went unanswered that day. Because before you could say anything more, Mr Arlert leaned forward and said, “Your reward will be divine”. And he walked away.

Nine months ago:

Life was well after Armin arrived. There was no other way to put it. Your father was confining himself to his room more often than before, and you were finding more opportunities to visit the river, leave the house and, eventually, you met the handsome baker’s son. Jean was kind, a gentleman, but not the arrogant type like most the men your age. You didn’t even feel too much guilt when you thought that spending a future with Jean- taking care of him and his home- wouldn’t be too bad. It’s quite pathetic that your life had been reduced to not being “too bad”, but the idea of marrying Jean sat on the comfortable line between reality and fantasy. Safety.

And then you were visited at the river.

Mr Arlert wasn’t even surprised to find you there, he had just smiled and sat beside you as you clenched your fists and forced yourself to smile back at him. You had always enjoyed him, his company, his challenges, but now it was like he was provoking you. The river Shiganshina was your river, your special place away from the hellscape that was the town. And now Mr Arlert had brought himself and his ordinary life into it.

You pulled your sandals back on, the crease in your brow evident. He clearly couldn’t get the hint. But before you could stand up, he spoke, and you paused.

“I wish I could jump in and swim away,” he said.

Curiosity got the best of you, as it often did with the man.

“The waterfall would kill you.”

The awkward laugh again. It had an effect on you so that your jaw couldn’t help but unclench. “If it means that I get to touch a waterfall, I wouldn’t mind, you know?”

You knew. You knew exactly what he meant. But you didn’t tell him.

“Didn’t take you as the suicidal type,” you said.

“I might get saved, who knows.”

“If you’re counting on me to jump after you, I’m letting you know I won’t.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I was thinking of more of a divine rescue.”

You finally looked at him, and- unsurprisingly- his blue eyes were glued to yours. What was surprising was his unwavering tone, his straight face. Mr Arlert was being serious. Why was he opening up to you this suddenly? So far, your interactions had consisted of him staring, you trying to guess his name, and him continuing to stare. In that order. You knew there was more to him, but it’s only now that you found yourself wanting to seek that out.

“You think Armin would save you?” You didn’t miss Arlert’s smile.

“I’m hoping I’ve gained his favour- done enough for him to allow me freedom via waterfall.”

It was your turn to smile. “You probably have, You’re at the temple often.”

“Thank you.” He blushed and you quickly pushed down the thought of how cute he looked. Sitting beside you, trousers rolled up and feet in the water, Mr Arlert looked more than cute. He looked like he belonged. You weren’t sure how that made you feel but, in that moment, you didn’t mind him entering your world.

“I think you would also be saved if you jumped into the waterfall,” Mr Arlert said.

You laughed. “Is that your way of saying I’m a nice person?”

“Something like that.” He paused. “I think Armin would appreciate your- uh- honesty. You’re like a priestess.” He laughs nervously at your expression. “You know, they have this personal affinity with the water and such.”

You knew exactly what he meant. How a stranger could read you so perfectly, you weren’t sure. But as you hid your smile between your hands, you wondered whether you were prepared to face the fear of the unknown. Maybe, with Mr Arlert, it would be a bit less unknown.

A few days later, Jean was announced missing. A search party was sent out and even Mr Arlert, on his recently acquired brown horse, couldn’t find him.

Present day:

Armin isn’t sure if he likes playing the part of the nice boy or not. Humans are simple creatures who praise him continuously and, without divine responsibilities, there is no need to take his rage out anywhere. But a god is who he is, and every day, he yearns to be seen as one. To be seen as one by you. He watches as you worship him, but you never look at him- not like you do the statues, or even the small river which you think is your only true connection to the god of the ocean.

You both want more, and you both know that, but you only ever admit it to each other when you sit beside that very river. There, in those moments, Armin feels a bit more like a god. Whenever he’s around you, he feels a bit more like a god.  

He’s told you before, but your perfect honesty has made it easy for him to unravel around you. He wants to unravel around you in other ways, too, and he wants you to unravel around him. Armin can’t count the number of times he’s sat beside you at the riverside and wanted to do nothing more than to kiss those lips of yours, to press the hard cock that he hides inside of you and watch as your eyes roll back, and you call out his name.  

But the God of the Sea is not Eren. Armin will earn you. And he’s very close to doing so. Not Mr Arlert. You have no interest in human men, that much is clear. You yearn for something more powerful. And you’re right. Only a god is worthy enough to stand beside you, lay between your legs, be in your arms. Mr Arlert is simply a means to push you to realising that the god in question is Armin.

In the meantime, he’s been nothing but patient.

It’s only when you come to his door one night, eyes puffy and red, that he lays his hands on you for the first time. He rubs your back as you cry and cry, fat tears refusing stop falling. You tell him about bout your father. About how, since he got better, he’s been refusing to let you out of the house, snapping at every moment and accusing you of being a filthy god-worshipper.

“He s-sai-d- he said we’re ‘gonna move away- said we’re gonna get as far away from the s-sea as possible.” You can hardly speak, though the tears have stopped, your voice still shakes violently. But Armin listens, he holds you close to him and repeats that everything is going to be fine.

You can’t stop thanking him as you leave, and he promises that his door is always open for you. “Whenever you call for me, I’m here,” Armin tells you. “Right beside you, always,” he adds as he watches you walk away.

He’s reached a new chapter of this Odyssey.

Present day:

You suppose your father’s death should have been expected. He was an old man, obviously depressed, and his only lifeline was his daughter who hated him.

You also suppose you should feel guilty. You don’t.

Familiar faces give their condolences and whisper questions of what is to happen to you now. You only pay heed to Sasha and Connie, though, who give you a soft hug before Sasha tells you that her family would be happy to take you in. You reassure her and everyone else that you have a plan, though your best friends are the only ones who seem to believe you.

“I heard Marie has a son who’s single, maybe they can-“

“You’re not actually talking about marriage here are you?”

“Well, the girl is all alone in the world, now! She needs a man to lead her on the right path.”

The old women are wrong, so very wrong. You don’t need a man. You’re fucking sick of men- sick of them all- everything they’ve created and everything they stand for.

What you need is a god.

The head priestess of Armin’s temple in unsurprised when you knock on her door with nothing but a bag and the clothes on your body. Those clothes are burned soon after, along with many of your other things, leaving your old life behind.

She tells you that you’re lucky there’s a place for you. The last priestess left running off with a man, “Which is a cardinal sin”, she makes sure to repeat every-so-often. The head priestess seems to hate men more than you do, sneering whenever Connie comes by.

Sasha and Connie are unsurprisingly shocked at your choice of work and even if they visit almost every day, they always tell you that they miss you. They think you’ve come the temple out of desperation- everyone does- and you let them believe. Because despite cleaning the marble floors or whatever other arduous duty you’ve been given, a smile is never far as you realise that you’re free from man. Indeed, explaining the truth to anyone would be far too difficult.

Well, except one person.

You’ve never missed anyone before. Not with your father keeping you so sheltered for most of your life. But as you push through the Head Priestess’ relentless schedule, you can’t help but miss Mr Arlert. He disappears after your father’s funeral, so you leave him a note at the empty stable with your final guess. You like to think he decided to follow his own path, you also like to think that he too wishes you were beside him, a guide in the unknown.

Present day:

The room is a box of marble, with a throne sat upon a dais at the centre and one fountain at every corner, each one sculped into a horse. The object of your interests, however, is the large bowl of water on the floor in front of the throne.

This is your initiation. You will emerge from this room not as an apprentice, but a Priestess.

You kneel down and lift the pot of clay to your lips. The head priestess kept on repeating how important it is to not put it down until you’re finished. So, you gulp the water down until you can see the image of Armin. You’re the one who selected the pot, with its faded paint depicting Armin and Hange’s fight for patronage of Sina. It’s a powerful image, but when you put the pot down, you come face to face with something very different. Armin is standing in a room-this room, you realise- and crouched down before him is a young woman, looking up in awe. It takes bit longer of a moment for you to realise that the woman is you.

Looking up slowly from the pot, the first thing you see is sandal-clad feet. Golden sandals, just as fine as the robes he wears, draped in perfect waves. The first word you think of to describe him is divine and it’s indeed accurate because-

“Mr Arlert.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

But you know that’s not correct. The man- no, not a man- before you is taller than Mr Arlert, by a foot and a half at least. His muscles are more prominent that the stable boy’s ever were, strong legs visible through the large slit between the layers of fabric draped over the god’s figure. Half of his shoulder-length hair is tied back using a golden pin whilst the rest frames his perfect, perfect face. You can’t help but think that Armin looks nothing like his statues- no medium of art could capture the ocean within his eyes, glowing in the dull light of the room. Then again, the stories didn’t capture the way the god acts either.

“Armin,” you say, this time your voice louder.

Now, you know.

His sad smile is familiar, but there’s something there that never was. “Oh dear,” he says. “I’m afraid you’ve lost out wager.”

Armin can’t help but compare you to a puppy, with large eyes staring up at him from your crouched position and an expression a perfect mix of excitement, curiosity, and shock.

You reach out a hand tentatively, but it hovers in the air between the two of you once you notice Armin’s raised brow. But he doesn’t rebuke you for it. After all, it’s only your first encounter with the god. He can’t expect you to behave perfectly, to adopt the right etiquette- no, he’ll have to train you first. Like he would a baby mutt. The thought makes him smile.

“I’ll accept any consequences, my god,” you say. Your voice sounds so sure of itself, so unlike your usual ramblings, those that Armin could and would listen to for hours. Right now, though, the certainty, it’s laced with desire that sends blood rushing south. You don’t notice. You’re too lost in his eyes to notice anything.

When he places his hand on your chin to hold it up, he can feel you shiver. “Such a perfect little worshipper,” he says. “I couldn’t possibly punish you.”

Armin can swear he sees disappointment in your eyes before he turns around and walks up the dais. The marble of the throne is cold beneath him, but the sight of you looking up at him with such longing is enough to warm him up. Now, Armin is sure you’ve noticed his growing erection because you crawl towards the dais, not yet climbing it, but close enough to see and lick your lips.

“Let me thank you at least, Armin.” He almost groans at the sound of his name. God, he wants to hear you say it over and over.

“Come here.”

And you climb up the dais only to pause before Armin leans forward and grabs your hips. Two lips, as if led by an invisible string, meet. You kiss like you’ve been waiting years for Armin and, in a way, you have. His tongue is inside your mouth quickly and he’s kissing, sucking, letting his teeth gently graze your lips as he revels in the feeling of you. As your bodies lean against each other, you can feel his heart hammering against your own. His chest is stone, but his lips are so soft and your hands find his golden hair. It’s also softer than it looks, and Armin can’t help but let out a moan as you gently tug.

When you pull back, his pupils are blown. “Thank me, then,” Armin says, breathless.

Sitting between his legs, your hand is tiny compared to his cock, and you can’t stop staring at it. Long and somewhat slender, but veiny with a flushed red top- he can see you gulp before you take an experimental lick at him. Armin’s hold on your hair only tightens and you look up at him, doe eyed and seemingly innocent.

“Put it in your mouth, pretty girl,” he says, guiding your head gently. “So obedient- Yes, exactly, just like-ah- just like that.”

But he doesn’t need to push down- no- he lets you set your own pace only because you do it so perfectly, almost as perfect as the wet noises you make. Armin doesn’t have time to be surprised, he’s just able to react fast enough to suppress his own moans so he can hear your wet tongue caress the base of his cock, as your lips create the perfect o-shape to accommodate him. Your drool is everywhere in a matter of seconds- his balls are coated with it, and so is your lap, where the spit seeps through the thin white fabric you call a robe.

“Like a puppy,” he murmurs. And you look up quizzically. “You’re drooling over me like a desperate puppy- a puppy in heat,” he grunts. “You just want to please me, don’t you? ‘S alright, puppy, I’ll let you do that.”

If you could nod your head, you would. Instead, your cheeks burn, and Armin is so lost in the way that you look- not even able to take his entire cock in his mouth- that his hips begin to buck unconsciously. He hits the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden impact, but he hisses and murmurs “What a good, wet hole. So good, good-”

The earthshaker is afraid that if he speaks any louder, his voice will slur into incomprehensible sultry sounds. But as you struggle to take his cock even deeper into his mouth, he lets out groans that go straight between your own legs. You moan around him, and the reverberations make his head roll back. God, you could stare at him forever. And he would let you.

“Look at me,” he says whenever your eyes go astray. “Look at your god.”

As his hips buck more violently, Armin can feel the pressure in his lower stomach, the impending orgasm and he wants to stop- wants to hold out the way he always has. But he can’t, it’s too much and he just cannot pull out of you. He simply pushes further and further into your tight throat, repeating your name like it’s a blessing. “fuck, puppy, ‘m going to- I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that, do you you’re your god’s cum- ah, fuck, ahhh”-

Pushing your head down to the base, both of his hands at the back of your head, Armin cries out you name and you can feel the warm liquid go down your throat, thick ropes filling up your mouth, some of it dribbling out. Armin reflexively pushes it back in your mouth, ordering you to swallow it all, to show how grateful you are. Of course, you oblige. But before you can even regain your breath, Armin suddenly pulls you off his cock. His pupils are dilated, and he wears an expression- anger? Shock?

“You’re not a virgin,” he hisses, teeth gritting against each other. His breath is frantic, uneven. It’s not a question and you begin to recognise his expression. Rage. “You’ve done this before.”

Fuck.

The God of the sea has his fair share of consorts and mistresses. Some of them virgins- though he never chases them the way Eren does- some of them not, but none have made him cum so fast. He would like to blame it on the year of pining, of restraint, but he knows better. It’s you. You do this him. You make him so wild, so willing, so pliant even. 

In that moment, as he looks your worried face, so desperate to please, he thinks that he’ll never be able to let it go. You’ve consumed Armin and he wants to do nothing more than burn eternally. You must understand that- that you exist as his beacon, that’s where you’ll be your happiest, but those thoughts are too complex for a human. You, in your fragile state, can’t understand. It’s alright, he’ll just have to show you bit by bit that you’re his. But to do so, he must first take on the role he’s familiar with. That of the punisher.

“Who is he?” Armin snaps.

“It was only-“

“Who is he?”

You pause. Memories of nights spent together, huddled close and trying to keep quiet already fading. “Berthrolt Hoover.”

Armin’s shoulders relax, “I see.”

His breathing slowly goes back to normal, and, at the back of your mind, you know you’ve signed the young warrior’s death. But your worry is fleeting as Armin grabs you by the neck and hoists you over his knees, laying you down on your stomach effortlessly. “A priestess who isn’t a virgin?”

You look up as see Armin’s familiar sweet smile, but it’s laced with mirth that makes you forget the Mr Arlert he was before. You cry out at the first slap of his hand on your ass, more out of surprise than pain.

“I don’t think the people of Paradis will be very happy to hear that,” he says. “An unmarried woman giving herself away to a pathetic boy.”

Slap!

“I’m sorry!” you cry out. “It was a mis-”

He slaps you thrice.

“No excuses, dumb little puppy. I’m afraid you’ll have to endure this punishment.” His voice is deceptively soft, as if he is actually sorry. And when you look back up at Armin, his face betrays no malice. But it doesn’t show any cruelty either. Instead, there’s a fascination.

Armin has you sprawled across his lap, at his mercy and he is discovering you bit by bit. As a god. His cock twitches and then suddenly he tugs off the fabric of your robes and they disappear.

The way you squirm is half- hearted, and Armin has to laugh. “Embarrassed? Now of all times? I didn’t know you were such a prude. Or is this all just to compensate for the fact that you’re a whore in my temple?”

You shake your head, “I swear, I’ve never belonged to any man!”

Fingers trace the expanse of your naked body, soft enough to send shivers down your spine. “Oh? Really?”

“Yes yes, I swear, ah!” His fingers find your naked ass and they grab onto the flesh, massaging, groping, feeling you. Armin’s other hand rests on top of your head, stroking it gently and you’re so lost in his touch that you almost forget to speak.

“I belong to no man, I never have. Only you. It’s always been you, Armin.”

The god’s eyes widen, and he gently pulls you up from his lap only to seat you on it, upright and, this time, there’s so much more to admire. “You’re right,” he says. Armin captures your lips and this time, it’s longer, rougher. He doesn’t want to pull back, doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your soft lips against his, but his hands have already found your breasts and soon, his tongue joins them. You moan as he begins to lap at your breasts, leaving hickeys and spit in his wake as his finally finds your nipples and begins sucking them like a child as you whine and lean into him.

“You do belong to me,” he finally says, his voice partially muffled as he loses himself in the worship your breasts. “You’ve always belonged to me.”

And you can do nothing more than nod your head as your fingers tangle in Armin’s hair and you’re pulled into another kiss. His hand goes down your body, squeezing every single mound of flesh as if it needs to be touched so that when he finds your cunt, Armin can’t help but smile at how wet you are.

“Already, but I’ve hardly done anything to you?”

What a liar, but you don’t have a chance to tell him before he plunges a finger inside of you. “Oh, puppy, my puppy,” he groans at the contact the same time you moan, pushing your hips against his digits. “You like my fingers like that inside of you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, I really love them- it feels, oh my god, it feels too good!” you grip his shoulders, unable to do anything but desperately buck your hips at the smiling Armin. He knows what he’s doing, he knows that his fingers are giving you just that satisfaction, but it’s still not enough to bring you over the edge.

“Please Armin, please.” You squeeze his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, tell me, I’ll give it to you- I swear.”

“I want to feel you, all- ah- all of you. I need to feel you inside of me!”

You’re not sure at which moment Armin removes his robes, but as he moves both of your legs so that you’re straddling him, your hands are on his bare, lean chest. The god’s nipples are flushed pink and pert, practically calling to you and you respond by brushing your fingers over them and watching him twitch ever-so-slightly in response. You withhold the urge to take them into your mouth, even as Armin rubs his cock against your cunt, releasing the sweetest of sounds.

He’s already leaking precum and it mixes with your juices so perfectly, his cock being dragged back and forth, only making you gush even more. “So messy,” he mumbles as he uses his tip to spreads your juices across your thighs. At this point, you can practically feel it throbbing, ready to be sheathed inside of you and the whimpers of your desperation echo against the temple walls.

When Armin slips inside of you, simultaneous gasps escape your lips. The god pulls your body closer to his as you throw your head back, stars in your eyes.

“Look,” he whispers. “Look how easily I slip in- it’s- it’s like your cunt is made for me.”

“Armin,” you whisper back. “Armin, Armin- ah- Armin.”

He sinks you down slowly, the stretch hitting every single spot that leaves your legs practically limp. The god is holding you up, whispering his own mantra that you can’t hear over your bliss. Once inside, your eyes look lock with Armin’s and he’s staring at you in a way he’s never done before. You’ve never seen pupils so dilated and the two of you stay like that as if making up for the moments when you should have been connected in this way. An eternity, it seems, the two of you have needed each other.

“I’m your god,” Armin finally says. “I’m your god and- hng ah-” He begins moving you up and down his shaft. “And I’m going to make you cum all over this cock- okay? All over your god’s cock.”

You nod your head pathetically as he lifts your hips and slams them down against his own. He is strong, ruthless in the way he bucks his hips up every time he lifts you from his cock, as if he can’t bare the empty feeling of not having your tight pussy clamped around him. At this relentless pace, you’re sure that the sound of your connecting bodies could penetrate even these marble walls. And yet, you don’t hold back. Thanks and praises spill from your swollen lips and Armin can’t help but lean forward and push his tongue between your mouth, as if he can absorb all of your word. “So good, so good, it’s- uah- I just want more, more of your cock, you fill me up so good!”

Armin can’t deny you. He pushes your thighs to your chest and picks up your entire body to fuck himself. He manoeuvres your body like a toy and as your tongue rolls out and your eyes become glassy, you begin to look like one too. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are incomprehensible, even as Armin attaches his mouth to one of your bouncing tits, you can only squeal.

“Such a good puppy,” he says between kisses. “Letting me use her holes like this. A god using a puppy’s holes- you should be- you should be grateful! Tell me, tell me you’re grateful!”

“I am!” you cry out. “I am grateful!”

“Good girl, good puppygirl.”

When Armin flips you over, you’re sat on his throne and he fucks into you harder, harder than he was doing before, and you swear his moans are louder too. He’s looking down at the movement of your stomach as if hypnotized by the way his cock disappears into you. And, in a way, he is. The fascination of being inside of you- just the idea even- is enough to make him want to cum.

The sudden position has him hitting new spots and the build-up is so fast, you hardly have the time to warn him. “Armin, Armin I’m cum-“

He grabs your face as you release around his cock, body spasming but unable to look away as Armin’s gaze burns through you. “Good girl,” he says. “Show me, show me how you cum. Just like that, just like that.”

He continues to plough his hips into yours and the spasms of your pussy leave him unable to hold back. “Inside of you,” he practically growls. “I’m going to cum inside of you- yes, yes, yes I am puppy. I’m going to cum inside of you and you’re going to show me how you take it yeah?”

You’re too far gone to even register the implications of what he’s saying, but he buries his cock in your warm walls and releases his cum inside of you with a heavy groan. “Just like that, just like that- I’m going to fill you up with my seed, puppy, my puppy.”

Armin feels like he’s emptied his balls- two powerful orgasms which leave his legs shaking violently. And yet, he pulls out of you slowly and stands back up to his full height, cock in front of your face. Almost instinctively, you rub your cheek against it, giving Armin soft kitten licks and he coos at you, stroking your hair. But he doesn’t push, he just holds his cock there and pumps softly as he stares at your fucked out face. Messy, covered in his spit, his hickeys, his bites, his cum- you look perfect, divine. Only one thing is missing. “I’m going to give you everything I have, puppy. And you’re going to take it, okay?” You nod and open your mouth for him and, immediately, a strong stream of pee emerges.

At the bitter taste on your tongue, your eyes roll back, and you spread your legs even wider, a welcome to the mess he is about to make. Armin accepts and angles his cock to release his pee over your chest, then your stomach, and then your already-throbbing cunt. He lifts a foot to rest on the throne and Armin doesn’t think he’s even seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

As if guided by an implicit will, Armin’s foot hovers on top of you and suddenly, he presses against your lower stomach. Your eyes snap back into focus as you whine out for him to wait, wait just a moment “I just had water,” you cry out. “It’s gonna- It’s gonna come out!”

But Armin simply grins. “Let it come out,” he says and presses his foot down harder. “Pee yourself dumb little mutt, be a good puppy for your owner.” The trickle that emerges is involuntary, but Armin’s grin is wider. “Yes, good girl, just like that. Let me see more, let me see more of you.”

The pressure that was holding the bowl of water back broke and you felt the warm liquid against your thighs before you realise what’s happening. Armin practically moans as he watches you whimper and struggle to hold your pee back as it spreads over the throne, the dais, and even Armin himself. He doesn’t stop until you’ve given it all to him.

You expect Armin to disappear. 

You’ve given him everything. His goal is complete, you think, he has nothing more to do with you. But, as he has done many times before, the god surprises you. Armin’s body is heavy against yours when he collapses on top of you, but the weight is comforting. Despite the malaise of urine and cum rubbing against both of your bodies, you wrap your arms around the god of the ocean and hold him close. 

Even as you close your eyes and lean your head back on the marble throne, Armin doesn’t leave you. Even as you open your eyes back up and see blue ones staring back at you, the look he gives you is so familiar and long hair in such unfamiliar disarray that you can’t help but smile.

He doesn’t ask why. Instead, Armin calls forth a stream of warm water from the adjacent fountain to clean the both of you. It feels like a fever dream the way floating droplets caress your bodies, and when Armin stands you up, his hands not leaving you, the perfume that suddenly envelops you is heavenly.

“Can I give you a last kiss, please?” you ask when your robe appears once again. And Armin leans forward to capture your lips, dragging his tongue on your bottom lip as if to taste you.

It doesn’t feel like a final kiss. You’ve had many of them- Jean, Sasha, Berthrold, your father, and even your mother, though you can’t remember it. This kiss is different. It feels less like a kiss and more like a promise, a vow. a shiver runs down your spine. 

“I am your god,” he says and lifts his both of his hands slowly to wrap around your neck. “And you’re my worshipper.” You gasp as a cold sensation spreads around your neck, just below Armin’s fingers. It’s sudden, and heavy and when he removes his hands, yours fly to your neck and there’s a metal band there where there was none before.

“It’s sculpted from Hephaestus’ gold,” Armin says as he strokes his fingers along the metal. But he’s not looking at his gift, instead he looks at you. 

“Armin- I- this is. But why?”

For the first time, he can’t read your expression. But it doesn’t matter. You belong to him. You always have, but now you know. And if it takes time for you to understand, Armin can wait. He’ll wait right beside you, always, always there to guide you.

“This is not the end of my Odyssey. My Odyssey is eternal,” he says before giving you another short kiss and disappearing, the warmth of his lips still present.

The gods might not all be fickle, you think, so you just smile sadly. But the gods are all selfish, so you touch the collar around your neck.

A/N: This is my first ever collab and I was- as still am- a bit insecure about how this story turned out so I appreciate all of your support ❤️. I would also like to apologise to my fellow history nerds for the historical inaccuracies. 

[kookieskiwi]

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader x Suguru Niragi

Summary: The borderlands were already dark, they made you numb to death so long as you survived. When you become the object of desire for two psychopathic and sociopathic men, one of which is your ex lover, you find it harder to drown out the emotions you’re feeling and demons you're facing. Do you give into the dark desires and madness? But...aren’t we all already mad here?

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual situations, murder, death, manipulation, psychoanalyses, drugs, alcohol, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, more to be added as I write.

Genre: Alice in Borderland, very dark romance, angst, smut, a little fluff if you squint

Rating: Whoever is mature enough to handle the warnings above but recommended to ages 15 and older. DO NOT read if you are triggered by any of the things listed above.

Word Count: 5k

[Taglist] @bonnyskies @mylifeisafxingmess @kasaikawa @mercipourleslivres @dragoneye01 @bubb1ee-gum@nocturne181 @somegirl29 @pajerita19 @ddaenysus @imagine-t-h-a-ttt @queentorresstuff @rebirth-of-destruction @celestiacq @ryreads @beeissleepy

A note from your author — I’m so sorry this took so long, I just got out for summer vacation after an extremely stressful year so I’ll be way more active now. I have decided (with much hype from @imagine-t-h-a-ttt ) to post this in parts so I could give y’all something in appreciation for dealing with me. Expect more soon!! (It might not be AiB exclusively but I will be writing more)

The borderlands was a place where anyone and everyone was alone for themselves when it came to survival. “It’s every man for themselves,” you’d often tell yourself after a game since you walked away, sometimes alone, and others didn’t. After participating in your first heart’s game you learned that, and it was forever engraved into your mind. When you were cruelly taken from the real world you were alone in your room after your nightly shift as an SDF officer. All of a sudden the lights went out whilst you were changing out of your uniform before a shower which you never got to take. Deciding to investigate the outage, you threw your uniform back on and unbuttoned the jacket revealing your black sleeveless undershirt while keeping your green cargo style uniform pants and combat boots on. After grabbing your knife and placing it into your thigh holster, you explored your neighborhood to find that everyone was gone, cars were randomly in the street as if they had been stopped out of nowhere, and you were in fact alone.

“What the fuck is this?” You whispered to yourself as you were pulling out your phone to contact your friends only to see that it was dead. “Fantastic,” you grumbled, rolling your neck to the side to crack it and relieve the tension. Venturing back to your home you thought over what this could possibly be; an evacuation drill? Maybe a nightmare? Were you daydreaming again? No, this was too real and too strange to be any of those things. You needed to get out of this area, inspect and observe other parts of Tokyo to see what was going on. You thought you could find answers before it turned dark since it was only morning so you rushed home to pack a few things before heading out.

While at home, you grabbed your backpack and in it you put; a change of clothes, three water bottles, pain pills and a few snacks as well as your phone and charger in case you could figure out a way for it to work. In a haste you also threw on your side holster which held your nine millimeter handgun and two packs of ammo for extra precautions. After that, you set out on your search of the city. The first thing you thought of was to get in one of those abandoned vehicles however even though they were full of fuel, they wouldn’t start. “So phones and vehicles don’t work, neither does anything powered by electricity. Great.”

With that newly found information, you stepped out of the vehicle and began the long walk across Tokyo. Along the way you inspected stores, homes and even government buildings but found no trace of anyone but yourself. Where did everyone go? It looked so desolate without the constant buzz of people around walking, the tourists, the neon billboards. Everything was...dead. You spent the entire day walking further into the abandoned city which was once lively yet found nothing other than a restaurant with food which you took the liberty to eat at.

Upon nightfall, you were looking for a place to stay when a billboard lit up drawing your attention to it immediately. “This way to the game arena,” it read with an arrow pointing to the left. Turning your head in that direction you saw an area in the distance brightened by lights while everything else was still surrounded in darkness. “Game arena?” You whispered in confusion. Looking around at your surroundings you didn’t see any other lights other than that building which looked to be about three blocks away. You followed the arrows leading you to the designated arena which looked to be a botanical tea garden from a distance. You slowly approached the building while keeping your hand close to the blade strapped on your thigh in case someone or something appeared. As soon as you stepped across the final set of stairs leading up to the entrance, a line of red lasers appeared and quickly turned blue when a sound similar to that of a confirmation resonated in the area. “What is this?”

“It’s the threshold of the arena.” Turning in the direction of the voice, you saw a familiar face step next to you with the same sound chiming at her entry. “Holyn? How did you get here? Are you okay?” You asked quickly before hugging her out of relife, you were more than happy to see a familiar face in this apocalyptic place. She was your childhood best friend, the only reason you hadn’t seen or heard from her in a while was because of both of your working lives.She hugged you back even tighter as she was feeling the same way you were, scared, alone and confused. When the two of you released each other she began explaining everything she knew to you as the both of you started walking into the garden.

“I got here a few days ago and since then, I’ve asked around to see what others know about whatever the hell is going on. No one knows how we got here or what exactly this place is but everyone is made to participate in games of survival. You must participate or you’ll die. After winning a game, you keep the phone you had and you’ll be supplied with a visa. The visa tells you how long you have until you’re out of time here which is why you have to participate in games to renew it before it runs out. You must win each game, there is no other way to survive if you don’t. Do everything it takes so you live and move on. Anything with an electric circuit board or IC chip does not work whereas analog equipment like radios work and so do older vehicles.” She explained quickly as more people came into view. Your mind fogged with all of the new information, it was so much to take in. Then you realized you were just thrown into a game of survival and like she said; you HAD to win to survive. “But-” you had just begun when she silenced you, “pretend you’ve been here and done this. I know you’re confused and probably scared shitless but just pretend.” She instructed as you both entered the arena and quickly added one thing, “I don’t want to continue playing after this, I killed someone Y/n.” But before you could respond she shook her head and you did as she said, silencing yourself and putting on the facade you had mastered over the years.

Upon entry, you almost immediately noticed the two groups of people to the right each containing about six people and consisting of both males and females and the other group of six men. Gauging their distance to and from each other you could conclude the individuals in each group had played together previously and probably had strategies to compete with. As you and Holyn approached the area the others stood around, you glanced down to the table in front of all of you. ‘One per person’ the sign read with approximately twenty phones laid out beside it. Each of you grabbed a random phone and stepped away from the table into your own spaces, you and Holyn sticking closely together. If everything with a circuit board was destroyed, then why did these phones work? In the middle of your questioning the phone screen lit up with the text ‘facial recognition in progress’ before switching to another screen as you looked at the others subtly to see they were looking around as well.

“Registration has closed,” the phone chimed causing each of you to glance down at the small screen. “There are twenty participants. Game: Queen of cards.”

“Rules,” the automated voice said, “After putting on the designated collars you will be divided into two teams, one team will be the Jacks while the other is the Queen of Hearts. Find the Queen of Hearts, take her phone and find the safe zone. If the Queen is not found, it is game over for the Jacks. If the Queen is found, it is game over for her.”

“Does this mean it’s one girl against the rest of us?” Holyn asked with a small crack in her voice, making hit her as a sign to be quiet and do exactly what she told you to do. The two of you grabbed the collars they had laid out on the table, placing them on your neck after close inspection. You needed to seem like you had done this before, the last thing you needed was to be seen as the weaklings or newbies. “It’s a Hearts game, of course that’s what it means. We are supposed to turn on each other and play with others minds. It makes sense.” A male with his arms crossed over his chest said. He had played before, you could tell. The group of men he came with looked like they had been here for a while based on their appearance and calmness towards the situation.

“What do you mean ‘It’s a heart's game’?” A girl who looked to be about seventeen asked. It was obvious she was new to this like you, however, you weren’t letting anyone know that. “When you see the game card, you know the type of game and the difficulty of it. Heart games are those of psychological torture and betrayal where you mess with your opponents or friends minds and emotions. Diamond games are ones of minds and intelligence, often including solving riddles or puzzles. Clubs are by far the safest there is given they are teamwork and unity games. Spade games are physical, they test your stamina and endurance. The number of the cards tell you the difficulty levels; one being the easiest and ten being the hardest.” Another man explained to the girls. You listened attentively while looking down at your phone noticing this was a six of hearts game. Hearts. There had to be a way to do this without betrayal. But before you could think of anything further you were interrupted by the phone which spoke once more.

“The Queen will have one minute to hide before Jack's time starts, but she wont know she is the Queen until Jack's time begins.” The feminine AI voice instructed once more. The girls were to be hunted by the boys and even if they weren’t the Queen the males wouldn’t know. Even if it was a best friend. You noticed when the others came to the same realization as you as one guy started profusely apologizing to a girl who was shaking. This is a game of survival. “So that means-”

“You girls better run.” It came from one of the men and said with a sinister smirk. All the guys had to do to ensure survival was take our phones and get to the undisclosed safezone. However this was more than that. You saw the weapons on a board in the distance and you knew you weren’t the only one who did. Without a second thought, you grabbed Holyn’s hand and ran as fast as you could to get the farthest from any other person, vividly aware of the knife you still had on your thigh. She quickly followed behind although she didn’t have much of a choice with your iron-like grip on her wrist. After running a sufficient distance from the others you ducked into the shrubbery and crawled towards a dark corner to hide from anyone’s sight. She sat across from you as you both tried to calm your breathing while keeping yourselves hidden from anyone who might pass by. The phone chimed again, “Hiding time is up,” the voice said while a new timer appeared on your phone. “Ten minutes,” it read. An alarm sounded throughout the arena echoing off the walls of the indoor tea garden. “The game will now commence,” you heard just before seeing your screen turn balck temporarily with your role on it.

“Thank goodness, I’m a Jack. You are too right?” Holyn asked as you turned off your phone and looked at her with a smile as her voice echoed in your mind, “you must win each game, there’s no other way to survive,” so you pushed away the dread in your chest and replied “me too.”

No. You were the Queen.

The two of you sat still for about five minutes listening to the shouts and screams of the others until you heard sets of footsteps coming in your direction causing the two of you to duck down onto your stomachs out of fear. In the distance you heard a feminine scream echo off the glass walls followed by shattering sounds and more screams of “I’m not her” or “It’s not me” followed by the sounds of struggles. “Come out come out wherever you are,” one of the men closer to you called. You could tell he was near and if you two didn’t move, he'd find you.”We found the safe zone but none of the girls were queens,” you heard one say, “damnit, if they were still alive they could help us,’ the other commented making your stomach drop. “We need to run,” who whispered to Holyn knowing those men would have no issue killing you to survive. “Three minutes remaining,” the time was announced but you could hardly hear it due to your pulse thudding in your ears.

“Now,” you called quietly queuing the both of you to jump up and run, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the men. “There they are!” One shouted followed by the heavy stomps of footsteps behind you as they set in on the chase. “It’s only the two of you, just give us the phone and you’ll live.” You ignored him and kept sprinting towards the place you knew there were weapons. Without another thought you grabbed two weapons and handed one to Holyn to defend yourselves with until she came to the realization you loathed. “You’ve been the queen this entire time!?” She shouted at you as the stomping sound got closer and closer. “I’m sorry! You said to do anything it takes to survive.” You responded with tears clouding your vision. Never in your life would you have thought you’d be choosing your life over your best friend’s, not when the two of you had gone through everything together. “Two minutes remaining,” the voice announced reminding you of your impending fate. Holyn looked at you with emotions you couldn’t decipher, but you saw the way she relaxed even if it was slight. Why was she glad you chose yourself over her?

“Come on, let’s hide.” She said grabbing your hand and this time, she was the one dragging you along. She veered off to the right pulling you behind a fountain and kept running until the two of you collapsed onto the ground. “Remember when you turned fifteen and we decided to sneak out?” she reminisced laying between your legs against your chest. “Yeah, our parents almost killed us, we were grounded for months.” you giggled despite the tears falling from your eyes. As memories of you both flooded your mind you acted without control and shouted, “Over he--” to let the men know your location but you were interrupted by her hand clasping over your mouth tightly to silence you as she yanked you backwards into the shadows. “Shh,” she whispered, calming you while you sobbed into her hand, “I want you to live on for me, okay? Beat this game, we both know you are the only one who can. I know you can. I’ll be helping you from above if I can.” She soothed laying her head on top of yours.

“One minute remaining”

The tears wouldn’t stop as you moved to hug her tightly, never wanting to let go. “I’m so sorry.” you choked out in between gasps for air. Everything was too much, too loud, time was moving too quickly, you heard the men rapidly shouting and searching for you two as you clung to your best friend. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly, the seconds flew by while you were holding the only person you had left before she was to die. “I’m not. Thank you Y/n, I wouldn’t have made it any further anyways, I’m glad I can help you move forward. Don’t let me die in vain.” She told you kissing the top of your head before roughly pushing you off to get you away from her. “Holyn!” You shouted trying to latch back onto her when suddenly the collar around her neck exploded and her blood splattered everywhere. Your eyes and mouth opened wide in shock at what you had just seen. You could feel the specks of blood all over your face and body while you stared at her now decapitated one lying in front of you. She had just died, and it was because of you, because you were selfish and confused all while being scared.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there in total silence until you just collapsed onto the cold, hard floor beneath your feet. The silence was interrupted by your blood curdling scream of pure agony that echoed throughout the enclosed building. Your head came into contact with the ground when you curled over your knees and screamed once again while grabbing at your hair and banging your forehead against the cement. Tears flowed out of both your eyes as you cried out in horror, unable to rid your mind of the events that just occurred. You screamed until your throat was raw and your voice hoarse, you could feel the clumps of hair you pulled out of your scalp as your fingers dug deeper into your skull and worst of all, you knew you were alone now.

For days, you were numb. Five days to be exact. You didn’t do much but sleep, cry, eat, walk aimlessly to a new location and then repeat it all again the next day. You couldn’t shake the immense feeling of guilt you felt when you woke each morning knowing Holyn wouldn’t because of you. It wasn’t until you played your next game, an eight of spades, that you snapped out of the haze your emotions put you in. During the game, you had to climb a tree fast enough to avoid the arrows being shot at you from below as the height the arrows were shot increased each minute as you ascended the tree. You were ahead of the others until one man decided to start pulling at your ankles to hold you back which eventually turned into him trying to make you lose your grip and fall. In the moment he yanked your body down, you almost completely lost your grip on the branch keeping you from falling. It was then that you realized you weren’t going to let Holyn die in vain, you’d survive and push through everything to honor her memory.

After that, the “acquaintances” you made between or during games never meant much to you because in the end, you could only count on and rely on yourself to ensure your survival. You stopped moping around and became the version of yourself you had always wanted to become, the one that allowed you to turn off your emotions and step away from your chaotic thoughts. You now lived for yourself and yourself only, but even then, you never killed anyone intentionally.

A few days passed by but you couldn’t tell exactly how long you had been in this hell hole. You only played games when it was necessary which was only about two days before your visa expired. After overhearing someone in a two of Spades game talk about a place called “the Beach” and the people there “knowing how to get out here,” you started observing those who played games when you didn’t. It only took a few nights to see the connection between the group of people who entered games with tag numbers on their wrists being the ones who walked out. After you played a couple games with people with the tags on their wrists, you were convinced they knew something about the strategy of the games. Lingering in the shadows, you watched the participants of the game walk out of the arena and head down the street while you quietly followed behind. You must’ve walked for five minutes before you noticed where exactly the group was headed; a vehicle. “But I thought..” you whispered to yourself in confusion seeing them jump into the four seater 1970 cadillac while you stood still in your hidden position wondering what they were doing. Upon hearing the ignition of the engine you remembered Holyn telling you only older modeled vehicles were able to work here, but where did they find fuel? Not once had you seen an operable fuel station. “There must be fuel at the beach, there has to be,” you thought to yourself, watching as they drove off which only made you more determined to find this place and get the answers to your questions. And with that thought in mind, you set out on a journey to find this so-called “beach.”

As the vehicle drove further from your sight, you started jogging in order to tail them to their location while still keeping yourself out of sight. You ran for around fifteen minutes before you saw a building in the distance, a building which had power unlike everything else in the city. Seeing the destination, you stopped running and took a while to slow your breathing and regain your energy. “So this is the Beach,” you sighed observing the structure and its surroundings. The building itself seemed to be four stories tall and included a large pool in front where people partied as if they weren’t fighting for their lives everyday. You approached a fence which seemed to outline the perimeter of the area and carefully leaned over it as if you were watching a child’s game. You saw the vast amounts of people give into the pleasures of ignorance while deafening music thrummed in the background, even from the great distance you were, you could slightly feel the vibrations of the bass in your chest.

“Ah who's this?” you heard a cynical voice ask rhetorically from behind you. At the sudden and unexpected presence you jumped, turning around and swinging your fist to punch whoever it was out of instinct. When your right hand came in contact with a face your left twisted to grab the knife you still carried on your thigh in a holster. Just as you grasped ahold of the handle one of the two people delivered a knockout-blow to the side of your head just behind your temple which caused you to instantly lose consciousness.

When you awoke you were sitting in a chair with your hands tied loosely behind your back onto the chair with what felt like a burlap bag over your head. You let out a small groan of discomfort feeling your head pulse due to your new injury, one you would have to repay later on. Upon hearing your groan, the bag was swiftly removed from your head allowing the bright lights of the room to flood your vision which hadn’t adjusted making you shut your eyes with a silent wince. After blinking a few times you get adjusted, you were finally able to scan your surroundings. In front of you stood a man with shoulder-length hair, blsck sunglasses, an open kimono and red swim trunks, to his left stood a man with buzzed hair, a black muscle shirt and green military pants who you instantly recognized.

“Aguni?” You asked with confusion seeing the man you used to work with. He was here too? You weren’t surprised he was still alive, the man was invincible when you worked with him. And just like back then, he was silent, he only gave a small nod of his head to you as a response before reassuming his statue-like stance. To his right was a man with silver hair, a white Nike hoodie and blue swim shorts who looked at you in an inquisitive manner with tired yet sharp eyes. Two women who had black hair were standing to his right and a man covered in tattoos stood further off to the side holding a sword long in length, possibly a katana. A few other people were staggered around the room but none of them seemed to be as ‘important’ as the few that you noticed immediately.

“Aguni-san? You know her?” The man in the kimono asked the latter with creased brows showing obvious confusion. “We worked at the SDF together. She was my partner before we were assigned to different segments, she’d be a good addition to the executives or militants.” He responded while putting in a good word for you. “Someone like her? An SDF officer? If you hadn’t told me, Aguni-san, I would have never known.” The man remarked crossing his arms over his chest while walking over to a desk which he leaned on. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned with a scowl in his direction as your fingers fiddled with the ropes binding your wrists. You would be able to get out of them in a matter of minutes if no one noticed what you were trying to do, but it seemed the man in the white hoodie already noticed as he raised his brow in your direction with an impressed smirk on his stoic face. “A pretty, small woman like yourself...I would’ve thought you’d be tagging along with someone and not alone. Actually I would’ve thought you’d be dead by now, much less an SDF officer.” He commented with a wry smile fanning out all your cards which contradicted his statement.

“If my cards tell you anything, you should know you’re wrong,” you hummed, resuming your attempt to loosen the ropes. “Ah yes your cards,” he began while pushing himself off the desk and slowly pacing around the room, “we want you to become a resident at the Beach after seeing the cards you’ve gathered. And after learning of your pastime, you would be a great addition to the team either way.” Of course he would want you once he saw the games you had played, you were good at surviving meaning you’d also be efficient in getting him the rest of the cards. “And if I don’t want to become a resident?” You questioned poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue out of habit. You were doing just fine on your own and definitely did not need this place, however, it seemed like they needed you. Or they needed your cards more so than yourself.

“Well if you choose to stay, you’ll be able to get out of this game quicker. We have a theory that once we collect all the playing cards, one person will be able to go back to the normal world. And if you choose not to stay, well, you can walk away from here but we will keep your cards. We have gathered all the weapons in the city, we regularly gather rain water and food which the game makers seem to replenish once a week, you’ll be taken care of here.” He explained pausing directly in front of you waiting for a response. Did no one else see the problem with him? How he was manipulating everyone to get the cards under the false security that they’d get to leave too? Or was everyone here really THAT ignorant? “It seems like you take my cards either way hm?” You suggested in a hum cocking your head to the right slightly in question. “You’re correct. However, now you would be higher in the rankings and an executive after making such a great contribution and having the skill set you supposedly possess.” He told you in an attempt to persuade you into staying while adding a bit of sweetness to the word ‘contribution’. When you simply looked at him with a bored gaze, he sighed and continued speaking.

“If you decide to stay there are only three rules. 1) "always wear a bathing suit". This is to be sure no one is hiding any weapons which is why our militants don’t have to wear them if chosen to do so. Rule 2) "be free to live your life exactly as you wish including alcohol, drugs and sex" and the third and last rule: "death to traitors".” He enlightened you on the standards they lived by to help you make your decision. It didn’t seem like it would be a bad choice if you chose to stay here, you’d have food, shelter, and people you didn’t know in case you had to play another game of hearts.

“I’ll stay but I want my knife back, if I have to wear a bathing suit you’ll be able to see it anytime since I wear it on my thigh.” You compromised whilst completely freeing your hands from their bound position but still holding the rope to hide suspicions. You hated the fact you’d have to wear a swimsuit because your scars would be visible but if it meant you could have your knife, you’d be more than willing. Hearing a few chuckles resonate around the room at your demand you brought your attention to one of the men in the back of the room who had a bandage on his cheek and a black eye. It was easy to come to the conclusion that he was the one you punched earlier, and the thought of that made you smile with pride while looking at him.

“You are in no position to make demands, sweetheart,” he practically snarled at you. You hated being called sweetheart, it not only made you cringe but it infuriated you beyond measure. With a deadly glare, you let go of the rope and stood from the chair in a swift motion and threw the ropes at him without a word which said everything you needed to. However, just as he caught the ropes you could hear the door being slammed open followed by a voice which was all too familiar.

“The traitors are dead,” the unknown man announced in a tone of pride, kicking the door closed behind him. His voice instantly brought back memory after memory causing you to turn your head in shock in order to make sure you were hearing things correctly. The man you were looking at looked nothing like the one you once knew. This one had piercings on his nose and eyebrow while he sported an automatic rifle on his shoulder and a psychotic smile on his face. “Niragi?” You whispered in shock, still unable to believe your eyes. Was this the same boy you stood up for in high school? He looked so....different. What exactly happened to the sweet, shy boy you once fell in love with? “Y/N?” He questioned letting his mouth fall open the slightest but before he regained his composure. It was him, Suguru Niragi, the first and only man you’ve ever truly fallen in love with, but also the man who disappeared without a trace three years ago. You knew he had left you, it wasn’t hard to figure that much out, but you never knew why and quite frankly, you didn’t care anymore. You had moved on.

“Fantastic! Another one of our own knows this charming young woman, this will make things a lot easier. Niragi, you may take her to the locker rooms so she can change into some fitting attire then you can get her an ID bracelet and take her to her room.” The man who you noticed had a bracelet tagged 001, exclaimed with a clap of his hands as he was instructing Niragi to get you settled in. “She can do it on her own,” Niragi scoffed with a roll of his eyes which had you throwing your head back in a sarcastic chuckle. “I’ll take her,” someone insisted from the side. Glancing in the direction the voice resounded you noticed the short pale man with the silver hair stepping out towards you. He seemed oddly familiar as well but you couldn’t quite place it.

“That’s settled then. Now, my knife?” You quipped raising a brow at the ‘leader’ in the kimono just before someone came from behind you pressing a cold piece of metal to your throat while their other arm was holding your arms in place by your waist. The room went silent as everyone watched what was about to unfold in front of them, Aguni simply rolled his eyes with a sigh knowing what was about to happen. “You mean this knife?” The man teased, his voice was one you recognized from one of the two men that brought you to this place and all you wanted in that moment was to stab him for that. So, naturally, you settled for the next best thing. Pushing your head forward a little while trying not to move your neck, you watched Niragi’s expression as you threw your head backwards with all your force resulting in hitting the unknown man’s nose.

When the back of your skull came into contact with his face he immediately lessened his grip on you which allowed you to slip out of his grasp and take your knife from his hand. With your knife in hand, you grabbed his wrist, twisting it and bending his arm behind his back while your other arm placed him in a chokehold. You leaned in close to his ear as he was fighting your hold before pulling him back harshly, putting pressure on his windpipe, “Never, and I mean NEVER, touch my knife again. Got it?” You growled and if you were being honest, you would’ve intimidated yourself. You didn’t wait for a response as you pushed him forward only to watch him fall onto the ground with a soft thud. “Now,” you sighed looking up with a smile which could’ve been seen as both innocent or sinister, “let’s go,” you said slipping your knife into the holster on your thigh. The man with the white hair stepped forward with his hands in his pockets and came to your side, briefly looking at Niragi before turning his attention to you. “Let’s go, shall we?”

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.